𝟑𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚

𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒙𝒂, 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒅 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑, - 𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐦 - 𝐣𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐝

[strawbbylino]

Love Across the Pages

By leeknowcantswim

cross posted on ao3 + ska amino

Summary: everyday you fall even more in love with the main character of your favourite book - unaware they're falling in love with you too.

Ship: Y/N x any member of skz

- Written for Stray Kids, but can be read for any fandom

You couldn't put the book down, your fingers inkstained from constant page turning.

You knew you had other things to do, things that should take precedence than reading the same book over and over again -- but you couldn’t resist the temptation to read just a little longer. 

Your eyes scanned the pages like you were searching for answers to a question, a smile decorating your face as you laughed softly. You already knew what was going to happen -- you knew ten pages ahead. But that didn't stop you from reading the story as if discovering it for the first time. 

The book was worn and well-read, its pages crinkled yet cared for. You knew the markings on the pages like the back of your hand, mouth forming the words written on the pages before you even read them. 

It wasn't the story itself that captivated you -- no the story, while good, was rather boring after the third read -- but the main character. 

It was a boy around your age with the kindest smile and the most addicting laugh. A boy that you had slowly, but surely fallen in love with over time. 

From the beginning, you had been captivated by him. He made your heart flutter, your smile grow and above all else -- he made you happy. 

But he wasn't real. He was a made up character in a book. 

Or so you thought. 

The dreams began like any other, with you waking up in seemingly another world. This world was his, and together, you explored it. You travelled all over, never ending up in the same place twice. 

You would wake up to a beautiful sky, look around and find him. He would always be there waiting for you, a kind smile curled his lips as his eyes met yours. 

A hand would reach out to you, gentle and warm as his fingers intertwined with your own, fitting perfectly. 

“Come on, y/n, let’s go on an adventure!” his voice would echo, smooth and sliverly as it met your ears. 

You would smile back, squeezing his hand in your own before letting yourself be lead away, complete trust in the path he had chosen for the day. 

You began to count the minutes in your world until you could close your eyes to visit his. You began to lose yourself in the dreams, comparing your life to the one you lived with him. 

You would spend hours together, falling deeper and deeper in love. You went on outlings that made your heart flutter. They almost always ended with you laying your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat as he pointed out the stars in the sky. 

You both already knew all the constellations but hearing him speak, his voice calm and soft, made you feel safe and content. 

As shooting stars passed, he would squeeze your hand before softly kissing you on the cheek, forehead, chin -- everywhere but your lips. 

He would smile softy, head tilting before he whispered into your ear. “Y/N, you are my brightest star. Without you, I would be lost.” 

And you would whisper back, “You are my will, my soul and my passion. Without you, I would not be lit.” 

He would hug you then, tightly to him as if he never wanted to let you go, hands brushing through your hair before resting on the back of your head lightly. 

Almost always, you would fall asleep in this position with him, head resting under his chin and listening to the lullaby that was his heartbeat. 

The last thing you would hear was his voice, whispering softly, “I love you, my heart.”

And you would reply, softly and breathlessly, “And I love you, my soul.”

You wished for it to be real with your entire being. Your heart ached when your mind reminded you that these were just dreams, a figment of your imagination. 

Your family and friends noticed your sadness, wondering aloud if you were ok. You could do nothing more than smile and say “I’m fine,” because who would believe you if you said that you had fallen in love with a boy you could never truly meet?

Your sadness carried over into your dreams, your love asking you what made his heart look so sorrowful. 

“I just wish for this to be real more than anything else,” you replied, lip trembling. “My heart aches when I leave you.” 

He took you carefully into his arms, wrapping you into a hug, “My heart, this is more real than the moon in the sky. It pains me to see you leave everyday -- but you must leave. You have others that love you in your own world.” 

“But--”

“Everyday I see you leave me and I ache. But I know I will see you again when your eyes close and the moon calls you to me. Please my heart, do not give up on our love so soon. It is as real as you and me.” 

“I refuse to give up,” you said, voice trembling as you looked towards him with determination, “We will be together someday, everyday. I swear it.” 

He smiled towards you softly, thumbs tracing circles on your cheeks before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “And I will wait for you everyday until then. I swear it.” 

The day for your love would not come soon, but as you both promised, you never gave up. Your hearts still beating for one another only, but your lives moving on. 

You grew older, more mature. But you never fell out of love with him. You realized early on he was the one for you. 

You welcomed every day with a smile and a laugh, his voice guiding you through life and softly encouraging you throughout the day. 

Sometimes you could feel his arm's wrapping around you, his presence beside you for the briefest of moments. 

You spent the rest of your days helping others, heart aching until you fell asleep only to wake up wrapped up in his arms once more, young as you were when you first fell. 

You both had accepted to wait forever how long it took for the day you woke in his arms and stayed. 

The day your eyes finally closed in your world and opened in his felt like a breath of fresh air filling your lungs after being submerged in water. 

You woke to him beside him, as always, eyes kind and soft as he smiled towards you. 

He reached a hand towards you, pulling you up and into his arms before whispering to you softly, “Hello my heart. It’s time to spend our dusks and dawns together.”

“Forever?” you asked, hand coming to rest on his cheek as you smiled back softly, feeling more alive than you had in years of living. 

“And always.” he replied before leaning closer, finally pressing his lips to yours in the sweetest of kisses, pulling you closer to him until there was no space left between your beating hearts. 

You both pulled away, soft smiles and eyes of love before a soft giggle of happiness escaped your lips, “I like the sound of that.” 

He grinned widely before pressing his lips to yours once more, the falling sun highlighting your forms as it faded into dusk. 

Your love was one of dreams; a love across the pages of a book. 

[strawbbylino]

not even the greatest artworks compare to you - leeknowcantswim

Cross posted to my ao3 & insta by same name.

Minsung, 1419 words, fluff

Jisung goes to an art show and accidentally rambles about his love of the art pieces to the artist - a very handsome boy who finds his rambles endearing

Jisung carefully pushed his glasses up on his nose, shivering against the cold wind that bit at his cheeks, turning them red as he grinned widely towards the huge building in front of him. 

Silently he squealed, nearly squishing the ticket in his hand as his eyes landed on the beautiful stained glass windows that cast rainbows on the sidewalk in front of him. He beamed, ignoring the strange looks he received from those around him, understandable confusion on their faces as they watched a young adult nearly wet his pants in excitement to go into a museum. 

But it wasn't just any museum. It was an art museum. And Han Jisung was nothing but an art glutton even though he was a music student. 

Besides, The Reflection, the newest art exhibit that had caught his eye, was currently in the museum. He didn’t know much about the artist apart from the fact he was some prodigy painter that created only masterpieces, his works hung in all the great art museums of the world. 

He had seen photos of their art online and Jisung will admit that he might have cried a few times looking at the beautiful pieces, scaring his roommates and friends who simply just didn’t understand the pure emotion that the artist depicted through his paint strokes. 

It was like Jisung was looking into the artist’s deepest thoughts and feelings - and that was reflected through a screen. 

He quickly walked inside the museum, looking around in awe at everything as he joined the lineup of people waiting to get inside the exhibits.  

Jisung bit this lip, shifting uncomfortably as he stood behind the ground of, well, snooty, people that stood in front of him. They all looked classy and rich like they fit in and here Jisung stood in his faded jeans and black hoodie, blue hair messy and falling over his eyes. He looked down at his dirty converse, a fine blush covering his cheeks as he handed the attendant his ticket. 

But all feelings of discomfort faded as soon as he stepped inside the actual exhibit. 

His heart pounded, jaw-dropping as he took in the beautiful paintings all around him. He barely noticed as he stumbled closer to one that caught his eye. 

His eyes raked over the smooth strokes painted in watercolour and ink. He took in the painting and saw it for what it was - desperation, fear, longing - and was left in amazement. 

How could it be so simple for someone to paint something so beautiful with such emotions attached? The artist was incredibly gifted Jisung had to admit, wanting to reach out and trace the paint strokes but holding himself back. 

“It’s quite nice, isn’t it?” A soft voice startled him, Jisung shooting back from the painting to look to the side, a very handsome boy around his age standing next to him with a soft smile. 

Jisung blushed, “It‘s...it’s wonderful.” The boy smiled again, not saying anything in favour of straightening his back, hands clasped behind his back as he looked at the artwork in front of him carefully. 

Jisung couldn’t help himself, softly speaking to the boy next to him, “The pure emotion that the artist manages to pull from simple paint strokes is outstanding - it’s like I’m with them at the moment, watching as they painted it. I’ve never seen anything like it before, the combo of black ink against the soft colours, it’s so eye-catching, yet so pleasing.”

The boy hummed in agreement, eyes looking over the painting before he let his gaze fall onto Jisung, who blushed again. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I rambled-” Jisung fumbled with his words, cursing himself and wanting nothing more than to bury his face in his scarf and die. 

Death would be so much preferable compared to the pain of embarrassing himself in front of someone attractive. 

The boy giggled softly and Jisung nearly swooned. Was that a giggle from the heavens? Or was he hearing things? 

“No no, I quite enjoyed your thoughts on it,” the boy replied before gesturing towards the next one. “What about this one?” 

Jisung swallowed, cautiously letting his eyes wander over the painting. This one held a different emotion. Deep reds and blues mixed together highlighted in pink ink that dripped down the canvas - love, loss, confusion - the ends of the ink trailing together to create a rose petal, “This one's emotions are different but I still feel as though they are a reflection of the artist themself in the moment they created it.” 

He stopped, glancing at the boy beside him who looked interested in what Jisung had to say, glancing from the framed canvas to Jisung and back with a tilt of his head and a smile. 

So Jisung continued. He rambled over and over again on the topic of every painting to the boy next to him, slowly opening up as he cracked soft jokes now and then, eyes always on Jisung with a look of pride as he made the other laugh.  

Was he flirting with Jisung? Yes, Jisung decided as the boy sent a cheeky smile towards him, Yes he was flirting with him. And Jisung was flirting back. 

He blushed at the thought, the two coming to stand in front of the final painting in the exhibit. 

But before Jisung could start his ramble, an older male with greying hair and bright eyes came striding over, a bright smile on his face as he stood in front of them. 

At first, Jisung was confused, but then the man spoke and horror filled him. 

“Ah, Mr. Lee! You did make it in to see the show after all!” The man reached out a hand towards the boy next to him, smiling even wider as the other took it, “Enjoying the placement of your pieces?”

The boy, Mr. Lee, smiled back, “The show is wonderful Mr. Seo. I’m glad I came, after all, you did an amazing job with the placements.” 

“I’m happy you think that way,” Mr. Seo grinned widely, pride in his eyes as he stepped away, “I do hope you consider us for future exhibits.” 

“Your gallery is on the top of my list,” Mr. Lee replied, bowing in goodbye towards the older man as he bid them both a quick farewell, already darting towards a high-class looking lady wearing a fur coat. 

They both were silent for second, realization hitting Jisung like a train as he looked towards the boy next to him with growing horror. He had been ranting about the artwork to their artist for three hours. He had been flirting with him! 

“I am so sorry-” Jisung started, eyes wide as he faced the boy, “Mr. Lee, I hope I didn’t offend you or-” 

The boy waved him off, “Please, Mr. Lee is my father. Call me Minho.” 

Minho. “Minho I’m so sorry for ranting and everything-” Jisung felt his ears turn red. 

But Minho just smiled at him softly, gesturing towards the last painting behind them, “Please, tell me about this one? It’s my favourite.” 

Jisung took a deep breath, refusing to look at Minho as he spoke. The painting itself was to put it simply, beautiful. It was bright, highlighted in white and gold. The image itself was of a boy without a face, it blocked out by larger paint strokes in brilliant reds and oranges, “Hope. The emotion I get the most from this one is hope. The colours...the paint strokes...the image itself depicts hope in its rawest form. Its hope for the unknown.” 

Minho was silent for a second, eyes looking over his own work before he turned to Jisung, “Would you like to go get a cup of coffee with me ...?” 

Jisung blushed when he realized he had never even mentioned his own name, “Jisung. Han Jisung.” 

Minho beamed, bright and brilliant and Jisungs breath caught in his throat, “Would you like to you go get some coffee with me Jisung? It’s on me this time.” 

Jisung laughed softly, “This time? Confident in the ‘next time’ aren't we?” 

Minho smirked cockily, holding out his arm for Jisung to take, “Shall we go?” 

“We shall.” Jisung giggled, in awe of the man beside him as the sun from a nearby window caught in the other’s eyes, making them glow. 

And even surrounded by some of the most beautiful art pieces Jisung had ever seen, at that moment, Minho was the most beautiful thing Jisung had ever seen. 

[thereal3racha-blog]

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