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THE WHITE VEIL 🎻 𓄹 ı 𝓞𝟐 ⧽ i just want to live and die with you.

──── ၇͜ᩘ 𔒌 ﹔ pairing — violinist!kth x married!reader

SYNOPSIS ⧽ you wore a white veil in your head in order to resemble the purity and innocence he demanded you wear, as well as to conceal your face from other men. you weren’t someone, you were something to be owned. that was until you met the weirdly observant violinist while traveling on a ship to america.

WARNINGS MDNI (this gets really mature and it has descriptive smut, with that, please don’t skip the warnings) titanic!au, lower-class!taehyun, upper-class!reader, physical (domestic + written out) abuse, arranged marriage, cheating from both parties (not on tyun), nude painting and public (? The room is practically empty tho lol) sex, all things referenced are from searches (i haven’t watched the titanic yet..), alcoholism, major character deaths, suicide attempts, suicide, general age gaps, misogyny, set in 1912 (obviously), gender roles, idols used as ocs (keep in mind they probably will not be accurate to their personalities), yearning, manipulation, slowburn, this is not how i actually picture idols!! they’re just muses, straight up doom, strangers to lovers. read at your own risk.

ᜆ wc ﹔ 42.8k

THE YEARS HAD EASILY and drastically taken the fight off of your face, weariness was no longer something that graced your expression after arduous years of being tied to a man by a golden wedding band that was so light, but so heavy with its promise.

You had not married by choice, not by the love that so many people claimed to be fulfilling and overwhelming. Marriage had been a cold, blind plunge into something you hadn’t picked for yourself. To marry, your mother would explain with warm hands combing through the tangles of your hair, was to be dutiful. You were set apart since your youth, not like ordinary children. A golden spoon has been in your mouth since birth, heavy, yes. But never as heavy as what the years brought. You expected to marry, lived your life surrounded by it, but the dull throb of emptiness never left.

The ship of dreams, unsinkable and full of life and innovations rowed beneath your feet. Aboard, people from different classes stood. Some paid without hesitating, others paid by selling their things just to board towards a land of opportunities, as your husband called it. In your honest opinion, the said ship of dreams wasn’t as dreamy as many made it out to be.

Long before it had been allowed public boarding, your father would go on and on about ships. How they were gracious and big, but all ships had a grandeur to them, didn’t they? The Mauretania, the Lusitania. Each year, a new ship would come forth and be deemed the biggest ship, and each year, they faded as a new model appeared forth, and so on.

But to people, mainly men, not any kind of them—often wealthy ones, they were always breathtaking. Boarding a ship as huge as the Mauretania when you were a little girl was an honor, something to boast about. The Titanic, as it had been called, was what came to take the title off of the other ships many used to talk about whilst you were still young.

"Y/N?" The grip of your husband, Mingyu, jolted you back to reality. "Were you listening to what I was saying, darling?"

Your throat swallowed barely any moisture, the strained tone of his voice was only audible to you, something you had learned to pick up as the years went by. Yet, you forced your breath to remain calm. Too much harsh breathing rustled the veil covering your features, a symbol of possession that kept you caged. Anyone would notice a subtle change in breathing.

Would have it been any better had you run away as pleaded by your older brother years ago?

"What were you saying?" You questioned sweetly, a tone you mastered in front of others. "I was admiring the details the ship has, you weren’t wrong, ships have intricate designs."

Even though it was barely any bigger than the Mauretania, you wouldn’t dare say anything that could ‘embarrass’ him.

"The arrangements for the party, remember?" Commemorating. That’s what you were doing, or what Mingyu intended to do. You were leaving England, it was deemed that New York was a better place, fresher opportunity in a fertile land for business where your husband would land more sales with fresher ideas ‘America hadn’t seen before.’ "You agreed to settle for the arrangement and types of flowers, you know I’m not good with that."

You didn’t have many hobbies aside from staying at home, it was all you did. While most girls your age, the golden age of eighteen, were out there bathing in laughter and fun, you stayed at home. Your duties included remaining pretty, cooking, dusting every now and then. According to Mingyu, women who followed traditional roles and allowed a man to provide for them were more attractive. Yet, there was rarely anything to fix up around the house.

Mingyu often left before the crack of dawn and returned late at night, each time you cleaned, it was as if the things hadn’t been touched at all. It was why so many things in your previous house remained with a look of new, they were barely used. The food often had gone cold atop the counter, you learned that making smaller portions saved your time, since Mingyu rarely ate.

Flowers behind your garden and a shelf of books about gardening became your new interest, assorting flowers together until they kept you a fresh company day by day during spring and summer. Winters and autumns were far more lonely, during those seasons, you retreated to a rocking chair near the flickering fire as the soft clinks of wood and the various textures brushed your fingers to crochet or knit.

You brushed down the long sleeves of the carefully tailored dress, elaborate details of light blue a striking detail, but not outshining, to the navy coloring of it.

"Perchance poppies and daisies?" You muffled the gasp leaving your lips by holding it back before it was fully out, shaking your head.

"What was your name again?" You questioned despite all incredulity, stilling at a squeeze on your arm, you relaxed further.

"Remain composed," Mingyu had whispered with an exasperated voice that was partly drowned out by the waves crashing against the borders of the ship before stepping on the Titanic. "Dramatic women are no good."

"Huening Kai, ma’am." The valet who had been hastily jotting down each demand on paper with a subtle tremble of hands blurted out, though you weren’t sure you would pronounce the first part of it correctly, as it was spoken too quickly.

Kai it is.

"Well, Kai." You started, shaking your head. "Poppies with any other types of flowers are no good at all. They don’t last long, and wouldn’t make it halfway through the party. They affect the water quality, too. And arrangements made solely of poppies are too boring."

The older—or younger, you couldn’t quite place it anymore. You couldn’t distinguish people properly through the blurriness of the veil already soiled from use since your wedding day affected part of your vision. Many turned out to be older, though. "What would you prefer, then?"

"We’re going for something sophisticated, white roses and blue chrysanthemums will be striking together, if you could get.. them to arrange this." You weren’t all too sure who arranged these, but you were well aware of these meanings, since your words and speech were limited, you spoke through the language of flowers people seldom understood. "Baby blue ribbons tied around their vases would be a nice finishing touch, as well."

"I’ll see it to be done, ma’am." Kai then smiled at you, the lines of it lifting his face visible through the veil. It used to be suffocating at first, now, it was merely a nuisance that you tried to ignore. "Your wife has an exquisite taste, sir. You’re a lucky man."

"She’s lovely indeed." Mingyu cleared his throat, gloved hand sliding to grasp your own, wrapped in silken white fabric. "How long until this is accomplished? The invitations have already been sent out, correct?"

You eyed the empty room, you had yet to see your suite, but Mingyu insisted on keeping you standing in heels that made your feet throb until it was all you could focus on every five minutes. On the highest floor, you stood in the dining salon that had been rented before you had even boarded. Soon, people you didn’t know but would force conversation with would be here all night, all to celebrate a new beginning.

"Yes, the musicians have been arranged, too. They should arrive here shortly. We’ll have everything decorated in an hour or so." Kai said, voice tuning to a more professional tone as he read over the arrangements that fell like blurring gibberish in your ears as you allowed yourself to zone out once again.

A minute or five had passed, you weren’t counting anymore, as your eyes caught the motions of brown and polished shoes tapping against the ground rhythmically, huge cases pressing down against the floor as the hinges opened to showcase cellos, trumpets, violins, and everything in-between. A grand piano already stood next to where they were setting up carefully, wearing matching suits and ties but the shoes for sure were different kinds.

"You wanted to go to our suite, didn’t you, darling?" Your head snapped back towards Mingyu at the sound of his bored, sighing voice. "Take the keys, I’ll be there soon. I have matters to talk about with Jungwon."

Surprise colored you whole, still, you opened your hands to receive the key. Moments where you were allowed to travel and walk alone were rare, you cherished them. In the back of your head, you thanked Jungwon, even though you had barely any knowledge of him. You knew his wife, though. Winter was a gentle-spoken woman you often talked with during events Mingyu dragged you towards, even though you started new topics far too much to the point you knew each other’s entire life—considering the both of you were too awkward to hold a conversation on a single topic.

"Your maid should be there already to see you dressed for the event, if I arrive late to our suite, don’t bother. No one minds if a host is late if he has power." Without so much as guidance, you were left standing with the cold keys against your palm. Not necessarily complaining, your eyes scanned over the room, flickering towards the door where the musicians had just come through.

You would have told Mingyu it was you being lost, but you knew it was curiosity. You wouldn’t be questioned, not when the well-worn gown and ornaments you wore spoke of class and status. The musicians nearby paused for a half second, then pretended you weren’t there as your feet crossed the door.

The smell of salt and the crash of the waves against the ship was immediate, the wind fresh, brushing against your clothes and the veil as they rustled. You had to hold it from it to not fling back and expose your face.

The freedom of the birds that cawed above your head stole air from your lungs momentarily. You wished for that kind of freedom with each heavy footstep against the polished wood beneath your heels, watching the flock of wings flap against the wind without a single care in the world.

A nudge, maybe a motion too jerky to be a nudge, snapped your eyes away from the aimlessly flying birds, a suitcase thudding heavy against the floor as your balance found itself slipping—stupidly enough, thanks to your heels. You hadn’t collided with the floor, somehow. Your arms remained extended, bracing for a fall, but all you could feel was one arm below your torso, holding you up. "You should pay close attention to where you’re walking when in a ship as crowded as this one, ma’am."

You would have taken it personal, often, English people were snobbish, especially those from London, where people whose pockets were full of money they didn’t even need but carried anyways came from. But the tone was careful, almost gentle. Your body was still above the firmness of the arm for a heartbeat too long before you regained footing, meeting the eyes of the man who prevented your fall.

He certainly wasn’t English, but perhaps he was, judging by his accent. But his traces were foreign, unfamiliar to you. Wide, almost captivating eyes. His lips curled into a small smile out of practiced politeness, as he was in a suit similar to the musicians you had just seen. Perchance he was one of the workers, it was why he smiled rather than causing a scene. Still, you couldn’t deny the beauty of his face. "Are you okay?" He still asked, staring straight into you in a mobilizing way.

A further analysis of his face reminded you of a missing piece, a clear vision meant your veil probably was brushed by the wind and motion. "Sorry—yes, I probably should pay more attention, truly, I apologize." Your hands and eyes scrambled to find a single piece of cloth that held so much meaning, grasped by your own desperate hands as you fixed it above your head. Mingyu didn’t like it when people saw you without it, deeming there wasn’t much use for your face to be exposed to attract mainly men to chat with you. A means of protection, he said. But you knew better than that.

"Just pay more attention to your step, miss." The man whose name you hadn’t caught yet replied without a change in tone, like this was a normal daily occurrence to him. His fingers, reverent and brushing against any possible impurities against the case he now held again, wrapped around its handle as he landed you one last almost apologetic gaze. "Not many people would be as considerate or calm as I am being."

As striking as he was, there was little time for the man to properly engage in a chatter with you. Not that you would have tried to entertain it further, anyway. As disappointing as it was, you had to get ready for the evening—had to be adorned in a ball gown your husband had arranged for you according to his preferences, even if they were quite tacky.

Minutes of listening to the water slosh against the ship were muted by the door to your accommodations peering open, located in the Parlor Suite—that’s what they called it, but they didn’t fit the requirements, some of them, at least. However, they were grand. Almost to your taste even, though you didn’t think you were quite picky. The space was wide, allowed you to take a breather and scatter pieces of chess around when you didn’t understand some parts of the game against your arranged maids that Mingyu would often fetch you.

Still, even though the requirements didn’t meet completely, it was really well crafted. They even had promenade, the bathrooms and bedrooms had everything provided for, everything anyone could ask for in a luxury trip of a few days.

You wandered shortly, almost lazily across the expanse of the provided luxury. The decoration wasn’t the most elaborate, you supposed. Some details were outdated, way more tacky than the dress your husband had picked out for you, yet still, you couldn’t have much of an opinion. All knowledge you had of fashion came from a minimal course your parents had allowed you to shortly pursue before being handed off in marriage, and even despite the money thrown around, you never completed it. However, you couldn’t help the grimace your face expressed at the forced attempt of charm on the spread design of the wall that clashed with the beddings. Yet, there weren’t any blemishes to complain about alongside the poor choice of design you would appreciate with an undertone that screamed fake.

The Titanic—a ship never meant to sink, a dreamy ship many fawned about, hadn’t been stepped on by too many people. The objects hadn’t been used, barely touched with the lightest grazes of fingertips, you were technically the first to set foot in this suite. Still, despite it being new, the design seemed to want to convince people that it was old rather than modern.

The choice wasn’t yours when it came to designs, so you decided it was merely you being petty.

Maybe because you didn’t wish to be here at all.

London wasn’t as convenient as tourists deemed it to be. On rainy, grainy days where the clouds reigned the skies more often than not, thick smokes that came in hues of white coughed on your face by older people or young men who tried to get someone to sleep with during noon. The metropolis was often busy, the lights barely ceased, not when so many souls were pent up. Moonlit nights were strangely empty, especially on the reeking streets of the Trafalgar square.

Yet, despite the fact you’d have to yell to get your point across above the booming voices of people and merchants, London was still London. It was still home, even if you were always meant to leave eventually. It was busy and dirty, but alive. However, the dull fading semblance your husband held because of his preference for tidier places and quieter streets stripped you from your favored home.

There wasn’t time to cry over spilled milk, not quite.

"The purple-grey dress is it, Miss Kim?"

The preparations for nonstop standing had already started, your hair was tied upwards with loose rivulets of hair that caught under the warm light of the vanity in front of you. Somehow, your maid Mingyu had picked for you and managed to make your makeup not crease. It was impressive, really. You were pretty capable of dressing and leaving your face polished off with unnecessary products that ‘enhanced’ your beauty. It was preferred by others, not by your own liking. Still, Mingyu insisted that a lady such as you, married to a powerful man like he is, shouldn’t worry herself too much about beauty when others could tend to it.

"Yes, Miyeon." You stopped gawking at her through the mirror, past your shoulder, once she silently recoiled into herself by the second—afraid of messing up and perchance leaving your carefully pampered face with a frown. But you had nothing but thankfulness to express, especially considering she made your makeup not seem like it had divorced the color scheme of your dress. "Your hands do wonders, you know? You have talent."

The blush on her cheeks was brushed off by waves of her dismissive hands that settled everywhere on your body as she tied buttons, zipped things, and wrapped with careful fingers bows in intertwines of lace. "It’s more passion than talent. Passion—obsession, these two always outdo talent."

Ambition was something you admired, it was something that lingered more than the materialistic meaning of money. A long drawn hum left your lips, part of it dragged as your ribs constricted in the corset tied around your waist to shrink it impossibly smaller. "I suppose you’re right." The acknowledgement left unfinished, ‘miss’ felt far too wrong when the woman taking care of your appearance was older than you. It was a mere title coming from respect, the status you now withheld but hated. You didn’t know much about intimacy between acquainted people, you didn’t have many acquaintances aside from Winter. But you did know a lot about status and hierarchies. Still, this felt wrong. "You’re older than me, feel free to call me just Y/N."

"If my lady insists." The room fell into another deep silence as you noted every detail of your appearance altered in front of the mirror, your presence becoming a little less like yourself and more like the Kim Y/N those present at the party expected. It was suffocating as it was beautiful. "You look gorgeous. It must be nice to have it as your only job. You’re good at looking pretty because you’re born pretty."

It was true, your only job was to sit still as the world and the people in it ushered to do their own things. Nothing seemed to faze you anymore, or impress you at all. Crazy days became shifts in your days, boredom was an old friend, an older friend than Winter. You stared at the glimmering diamonds above your head, reminiscing times where your passion for smearing paints in larger canvas surfaced. They were nothing but ashes in a bigger fire now, because a lady should be a muse, never the painter. "That’s the point of your job, no? To be excellent at it." You sighed as you loosened one of the tightly wound curls nearby your ear, shaking your head with following clinks of jewelry colliding against one another. "It’s quite pointless when it’s all covered by a veil."

With another practiced smile, the one you’d have to wear all evening long with frequency, you slipped out of the room right after the makeover, chasing the comfort of the lounge you had walked past on the way to your so-called fancy quarters. Eyes seemed to burn holes into your glimmering skin, some sort of newly released perfume with particles of shimmer—but never on your face.

The lounge closest to the arrangements you were staying in was one of the agreed spots Mingyu could find you inside, the opulent style mirrored something older—finally something neatly done, not rushed. The room was barely crowded, couples chatted, women laughed with pitches as expensive as the champagne inside their glasses. The oak paneling contrasted and yet sharpened the sconces made out of bronze, warping high towards the hanging ceiling. The green of the spread out couches were clearly of high quality, all the best for higher boarding passengers. the higher the quality of your furniture.

It wasn’t a surprise Mingyu hadn’t come to find you yet, you supposed. You knew things about Mingyu your parents didn’t, however, even if they did know, they’d pay little to no mind. Women in this ship were gorgeous, you’d caught him with women less flamboyant than the ones presenting themselves seductively in bed. You wouldn’t need to feel colored by shock if he was out there with another woman.

It was one less thing to worry about. You’d rather he be the problem of another woman than to have the sticking stench of cigarettes fawning close to your unblemished cheek, becoming agony to your ears each time Mingyu leaned his face over your shoulders, kissing above purple blotches and red hues spread on your skin like he wasn’t the one that’d left them there.

"Lovely room, don’t you think?" The confidence in the voice of a man caught your ears, your eyes darting from one side of the room towards the man who had just caught your attention. "For a lovely lady."

"I must say the same towards yourself, sir." A curt smile you weren’t sure he could see plastered your lips, you did it anyways just in case. "Although I’d say many rooms are more pleasing to look at rather than a veil."

"You look fascinated. Ever been on a ship?" The couch sunk next to you as he sat, never overstepping—not quite. "Some would agree, but the passengers are always a breath of fresh air in a ship whereas the ship remains the same."

You supposed he had a point. Still, The Titanic wasn’t quite lived in yet.

"The Mauretania, but only once. They’re not that different, I’d say it’s an exaggeration to call this ship the ship of dreams." You allowed boredom to spill past your lips alongside your words, twisting your wrist to ease the cramp of leaning against your palm too much. "Arguably, it isn’t as innovative as they claim it to be."

"Strong opinion, I like that." The man laughed, legs crossing as his hand extended towards you. "Choi Yeonjun, and you are?"

The warm press of lips to your clothed knuckles weren’t unfamiliar, still, you remained guarded even if the motion had no meaning. Mingyu was strict when it came to other men, too. "Kim Y/N."

"Kim? Ah, married to Kim Mingyu?" Everyone knew Kim Mingyu, but even if they didn’t, anyone would expect you to have a husband. Women didn’t board ships alone, either they were too poor, or couldn’t provide for themselves if they ran away. You wouldn’t escape the shackles of marriage ever again, Mingyu made sure you knew it. "I received an invitation, too. Though, I didn’t expect to meet his wife before the man himself. You don’t look around his age, though?"

"I like my men wiser." You replaced older for wiser, despite the fact Mingyu was well around his late twenties, and you were barely onto your early ones, he insisted he didn’t like the emphasis of the gap you two had. You avoided topics about it. "Mingyu is one of them."

"Of course. You have opinion, that’s good to see in young ladies." Yeonjun’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, wandering eyes judging every laughing lady that glanced his way every now and then. Sometimes, he spared them a wink just so they would fan themselves dramatically with their hand held, overly decorated fans.

"Do you have one yourself?" You questioned absentmindedly, though you were half sure you knew the answer to your own question.

"No. Not really." You forced your spine straighter at the answer, even as the strain from your outfit begged you to relax. "I hope I’ll leave with one for myself, though."

"Maybe you won’t be so out of luck, there are plenty of women inside this ship." Maybe the reference had once been towards you, but all hope was lost to the biding band on your finger. "Especially tonight."

"Well, you’re quite right." Yeonjun agreed, clearing his throat as his hands tapped against his thighs, smacking them in a sign of departure. "I hope to see you soon, then. Mrs. Kim."

"You will, surely you will. Until then, Choi Yeonjun." You waved, but only until he turned around enough that you could stop. The stiffness of your position maneuvered you to stand, once again being met with the cooling breeze outside as you wandered on the vast expanse of the ocean. Your feet clinked in soft tap, tap, tap patterns against the unblemished wood. Without Mingyu searching for you as usual, you allowed yourself the freedom of exploring places you hadn’t seen yet. The verandah, for example, was exquisite.

The view wasn’t so bad, either. Below, you could catch moving bodies whose backs were turned towards you. Middle and lower class passengers walked down, some were limping in crutches, others walking in exhaustion. You liked to picture how life seemed so simple for them, free from the hard pressure of luxury. With luxury and comfort came pressure and expectations, you liked to think a simpler life would be easier despite the hardships.

Yet, people watching never gave you enough context to know whether life was good to them, either. Quite frankly, you’d never talked with someone even a mere inch below your status, everything you knew was provided by your imagination that could only go forward so much with ideas.

Faintly, you recalled days like these back in London. Days where you’d throw your scarf and leave it forgotten atop the coffee table, rustling the already messy newspapers you would never read but would pretend to whenever you didn’t want to talk to anyone. Instead, you’d people watch. You weren’t sure when daydreaming about other people’s lives became such an important detail of your day, but you told yourself you liked it, hence why you did it many times when you were still unmarried.

Lush, green hanging plants kept your company until the clock struck the time for the party you dreaded. Mingyu would eventually scatter away from you after catching another woman’s eye within an hour or two of forcing you into social interactions, leaving you to stand and admire things your eyes would grow tired of. Albeit knowing it, you still went.

You assumed the violinists and musicians the ship provided to play for the arrangement weren’t bad. Songe d’Automne and tunes alike were played perfectly to a notch down to Hymns such as ‘Nearer, My God, To Thee.’

You swayed around with Mingyu, feet aching and numbing in a way you became familiar with years ago but never comfortable with. Men allowed their eyes to fall on your figure where the dress hugged everywhere it should hug, shamelessly. They seldom tried to look past the veil, prying past a barrier was harder than to look at what was already offered on a platter. You couldn’t find Winter, Jungwon mentioned her being sick. You knew what sick was code for, most of the time. While Jungwon smiled fondly at you, the gentleness of his smile often wasn’t the same as the heaviness of his hand. You only hoped she was okay.

People from everywhere who deemed to know you greeted you, you shook hands and stood nodding and partially dozing off, only to be slightly jolted back to consciousness at sharp laughter that were so painfully fake, directed towards dull jokes and fake stories no one believes but listen to anyway.

You soaked up the noise and beats of the songs as they repeated and looped, all because a party lasting too long and carried without being timed couldn’t have new songs played every moment by tired musicians. Yet, the sharp ring of champagne glasses and politics and the smell of dizzying cigarettes barely allowed anyone to notice. That is, unless they felt as miserable as you felt.

You managed to find Yeonjun soon after Mingyu left you as predicted. It was almost immediate, you liked the idea of having a friend for a short term. You felt at ease, aimlessly talking about fading dreams with him, and Yeonjun talked about rumors around his coworker’s life. You never deemed yourself a big gossiper, but the mess of other’s lives was so attractive to your ears, especially when your life felt so stationary.

"Have you ever crossed before?" Drowned out by the voice, you leaned in a tad closer to Yeonjun—communication was difficult in an agglomerated space, but it didn’t make it any less intriguing to learn about him.

"What? I can’t hear you!" A small laughter shook your chest, Yeonjun’s expression a mix of frustration blended with the thin line of a smile that was barely there. "Too much noise."

"Have you ever crossed before?!" He repeated, this time louder. "You said you’re from London, I’m just guessing you haven’t."

"I thought I told you I’ve been to the Mauretania before?" The comical look or realization on Yeonjun’s face was laughable—truly, he wasn’t a bad companion, even if he did look like he wasn’t the best of influences. "Did you forget already?"

"Well, I’ll be damned. It completely slipped my mind." Yeonjun shrugged, glimmering eyes as he shrugged, all initial awkwardness melting. "A lot to do out in London, huh? You still never managed to convince Mingyu to not go to New York?"

"New York, London. What’s the difference between them? They’re similar, just in different places." You mused, tasting the burning champagne fizz down your throat. "Surprisingly, I didn’t do much in London. Not much aside from painting every three weeks and gardening."

"A woman as beautiful as you wouldn’t come across as having a big knowledge on flowers and their meanings, you know." Yeonjun had slipped to you before Mingyu appeared in the picture, his face flushed from alcohol. You had allowed Yeonjun to brush his hands against the veil you never once allowed to budge in front of other men, even if you were sober. Perhaps, you yearned for someone to see you whole, too. "You’re a box full of surprises, huh?"

"It’s no use being bored and alone inside your house everyday, Yeonjun." Your laughter died down to something softer, warmer as you allowed yourself to relax for the first time in a long while. Even when you told yourself you shouldn’t, the taste of freedom that came with consequences was always a forbidden fruit you’d reach for. "Well, where are you from?"

"Florida, specifically upstate Florida, if you want to know where I’ve lived for most of my life. But I was born in Korea, though I have little memory of living there." Shakily, he laughed halfway before tipping over his glass and downing the bubbly liquid—men like Yeonjun, wealthy, liked to drink aimlessly. He reached for another glass as soon as another Valet passed by, however his eyes didn’t leave your covered face for too long.

"Not much to do out in Florida out of all places, is there?" You sipped your own champagne, carefully maneuvering it beneath the veil. Your lipstick, red and bold and still somehow lingering thanks to your lady maid, stained the rim of the cup. Though it smudged as you tried to wipe it off to save the trouble of a kitchen staff having to clean it. "Is that why you cross so often?"

"Precisely. Florida doesn’t have much ambition, if you think about it. It’s a great place to settle down, but I don’t think I’m done living my life yet." Even as Yeonjun talked about himself, his eyes still held a simple question, one you’d been trying to avoid. Still, he reached for the bottom of the veil.

Your saliva had stuck like bricks down your throat, heat creeping up your neck as your veil flung upwards (even as you told yourself it was because of all of the champagne you have consumed so far tonight), exposing your face under the dim lighting. "It’s no use being beautiful if you have nothing useful inside your brain to talk about, don’t you think?"

"Well, beauty isn’t everything." It was a lie and you knew it. Privileged women were often extremely well looking, and those who weren’t had the money to ensure they were eternally beautiful. The perks of being pretty were well known to you, but you just refused to acknowledge them—wanting to be seen past what is beneath anyone can see behind the veil. "What would I be if not beautiful? Botanic knowledge and the basics of painting wouldn’t save me out there."

Yeonjun was very nice to the eyes, that you had to admit. You would’ve felt shameful for thinking so, especially when you had a husband. But you didn’t feel ashamed. Mingyu had done far worse, what was allowing a man seeing your face compared to taking other women in a bed your wife slept in next to you?

"You still would be a nice listener." Yeonjun shrugged, setting the glass down only for his hand to hover near your jaw. You stiffened, but you didn’t move away. Torn between the craving for another human touch, gentle instead of rough, and the stomping footsteps you heard right after Yeonjun’s hand barely grazed your jaw.

"It’s about time we go, sorry." The veil was hastily arranged back over your face by Mingyu. You felt something bitter and ugly twist in your gut, not because he gripped your arm too tight to be missing you, but because of the red lipstick stains beneath his jaw that were concealed by the dim light and sharp movements he made. It was unfair.

The implication burned like fire on your throat, it burned worse than the spume of the champagne you had hastily finished drinking. You knew what ‘it’s about time we go’ meant, but you also knew better than to retort.

"I’ll see you around, Choi Yeonjun." You hurriedly managed before being dragged off of your stool. You didn’t need words to know Mingyu was fuming, his breath came in clouds in front of him due to the significantly cooling air.

The last glimpse within the party room you had caught were the same captivating eyes that held you patiently earlier this morning.

You didn’t do what most couples did, in love couples. When the door slammed shut, your body had already locked into place to receive painting marks on your skin. You had enjoyed the art of painting and creating new things, Mingyu enjoyed the art of making you his canvas and his knuckles and palms paint and brush.

The door slamming was sharp like bullets firing, you liked the assimilation each time Mingyu forced it shut with more force than necessary. "Mingyu, we were just talking—"

A pained gasp left you before you could finish speaking, without proper balance of your feet wholly on the floor and instead having your feet balanced on the thin heel you wore, your body hit the edge of the bed. Wood hitting your back in a way you felt your breath momentarily stop.

Every bit of gracefulness and radiance left you during these moments, fear flashed in your eyes, a sign of submission.

Mingyu had never dared to leave a bruise on your face, though. It was the only place he refused to soil with his dirty hands. This time, however, under a further influence and seeing someone else—another man, seeing your face that was protected by the innocent white of the fabric he forced you to have hovering above it snapped something in him.

"You want to run off with him, huh? After everything I gave you?" Mingyu was slurring, you doubted he was processing things clearly let alone analyzing situations clearly. Even if he had, you were sure he’d be worse. "You think I didn’t see how you looked at him? I’m crossing with you for a better opportunity, not for you to slut yourself out to other men."

Your ears rang. A hand collided against your face and it burned, tears sprung to your eyes. "I wasn’t, I swear I wasn’t, please!" You hadn’t been slapped much in your life, your dad would say he felt too bad to leave a harsh imprint of his hand on your face. It was why the shock buzzed through you alongside the dread that made bile rise up your stomach.

Your screams and crashes against furniture you had earlier thought of not lived in were drowned out by the waves below, and by the loud voices outside of the suite. Pulled by the hair as your body jerked, only to land against something harder, hard enough to make your breath falter on your bruised ribs.

Nights like these usually felt more like full of terror, Mingyu left before you could break. You tried to not break, breaking meant extending whatever he called this pleasurable moment for him.

He still kissed you before leaving towards his room—maybe it was paranoia, maybe it wasn’t. But you swore you heard a feminine voice in the distance, and it was what stung so much. "Don’t overstep." Was all he said, shoving you against the floor, harder this time.

He had muttered a goodnight so soft it belied his actions, then left before a sob tore out of your chest. His lips were wrong, unpleasant and possessive and far too hot against yours. Sloppy and too uncaring for a man who claimed to care so much about his wife’s ‘delicate’ features. Almost as if he had been trying to remind you rather than love you—it made you realize how truly powerless and unhappy you would be in this marriage for the rest of your life.

You were stiff, walking wrong on your heels as you retreated towards your own room. You masked the glisten of tears when Miyeon fussed over your smudged makeup and stained veil, but upon your request to be left alone, she had no choice but to leave to wash the veil in delicate hands only a maid had. You undressed by yourself this time, undoing the buttons your nimble hands weren’t meant to be unbuttoning. Hands a lady of status should keep next to her sides while being taken care of.

Your skin felt scrubbed raw by your own hands, but the bruises wouldn’t fade back to your natural skin color. They were ugly, would be imprinted into your skin and reassuring no other man would take this aside from Mingyu himself. Your makeup, once pristine, was smudged as you further smudged it with soap. The woman beneath the mirror wasn’t nearly as pretty as the woman who smiled and waved, you looked beaten down. In a literal sense, you were.

Sleep didn’t come easily no matter how much you chased after it. Your body could finally breathe, now lying down in a silken satin robe. Still, the comfort felt suffocating. The duvet covering your body itched, your head didn’t feel right no matter how much you twisted and turned. You kept replaying that same voice calling Mingyu over.

Women had no say against their husbands in society, it was a fact most women accepted when they married. But still, it was unfair. All you had done was allow a man you found solace in momentarily to see your face, Mingyu could have other women as much as he pleased and yet no one would bat an eye.

When you first set foot on the Titanic, you had hopes of getting out of it. A new life awaited you in America, a land to which they called the land of opportunity. Now, you weren’t so sure if you wanted to leave this ship.

Your breath burned sharply, puncturing your lungs as the cold breeze slipped through the thinness of the robe you wore, tightly wrapped around your waist.

Not many people will be as considerate and calm as I am being.

The words leaving the lips of the man from earlier rang in your ears, and still, you pushed past couples holding hands as they muttered about you. You bumped shoulders with older men, younger women who were leaving the still bustling party. Your body moved forward with urgency, with a thirst to leave what you were forever tied to. Moving barefoot against the gelid foot that hurt your skin, you crossed one end of the ship to the other, gliding down short steps with a blurry vision.

This was it, really. Miyeon barely knew you even though she was your maid, your husband, Mingyu, barely acknowledged you unless it was to have you wrapped pretty around his arm for him to boast about. If you fell down the depths of the ocean, the following days all there would be left of you would be a mere vague memory of a beautiful woman with a veil covering her face. And yet, no one would be able to speak for you in a funeral without anyone buried beneath the soil.

Each thump, thump, thump, of your feet were accompanied by ragged breaths of your lungs that begged for more air. You didn’t falter, champagne haze flushing your brain and numbing most of the fear even though you wanted to numb it all. Running like you could outrun every bit of abuse you would have to face as long as you or Mingyu lived.

The ocean was vast, swallowing darkness whole and not reflecting it back. The only thing it reflected was the soft glimmer of the moonlight across the expanse of crashing waves, your body crashed against the metal railing, white and matching your whitening knuckles as you gripped it with a chest that felt too tight. It could easily swallow you too, you didn’t know how to swim.

The tears made your lips wobble, alcohol made your thoughts far more emotional than you wanted them to be.

You looked behind only once.

The waves were intimidating, the drop was deafening as your ears rang with the intensity of them. Your bare skin, foot—you stepped on the railing, grasping the metal pole holding a hanging, orange light that solely illuminated your frame. You climbed over it easily, breath suddenly taken away as your arms held tight onto the cold metal.

The wind rustled your hair, you almost felt peace. The kind of peace one would feel when serene snow hit the ground outside their window on a particular heavy day. You would’ve felt wholly at peace, had melancholy not been drowning you. Time seemed to hold its breath, stopping as your eyes reflected the bright waves below you. You stood perched there, staring. The decision you would take rested solely on letting go or not.

You weren’t a person, not quite. You were something to be wrapped around your husband’s arm and paraded around. A wife, eventually and with no doubts a mother. All of your dreams would for sure be buried beneath the sole of your shoe deep into the soil, and even if you put off everything and divorced, they still would be cast aside as society looked at you with newer eyes for being a divorced woman.

You leaned further forward.

"You won’t die if you jump, not instantly." A voice made your heart jump as your head snapped back, breath quick and brows pinched. You recognized him.

The man from before, ironically. The one whose eyes you found adoringly captivating. He was meant to be playing in the party you were sure was still ongoing, you had caught a flash of him on the violin. Fingers long and loose on the strings as his hands vibrated, he was far more captivating beneath glimmering chandeliers and surrounded by loud, snobby English people.

"How would you know?" Your voice was breathless, barely audible. He stepped forward. "Stay back." You hissed.

"It’s going to hurt, that’s for sure." He shrugged off his coat, leaving him in a plain, white button up and a crooked tie he probably had attempted to loosen but failed miserably. "I’m guessing a fifty or sixty foot drop, don’t you think? Now, I’m no suicidal man, I value my life. But I’m sure the fall wouldn’t be enough to kill you, especially since you’re falling inside the water. You’d die a gruesome death."

Your breath hitched at how casually he talked, yet his eyes never left yours. Time stood still when your eyes tore from the glimmering, thrashing waves to meet his eyes. The lights seemed to make them shine brighter, almost vulnerable. Arguably, he had the prettiest eyes you’d seen. At least, the prettiest eyes you’d seen in a man.

"It won’t?" The cold bit further into your cheeks, he chucked a cigarette forward into the water. "It’s intimidating enough to look like it would kill me."

"You won’t jump, even then. You wouldn’t have listened to my explanation and jumped before I even got this close." You watched with gaped lips as his hands started to undo the knots in his boots. "However, you got me involved. If you jump, I might have to jump too."

That alone made your heart stutter.

"That’s absurd, you won’t—you’ll die." You stammered out, yet, you made no moves to try to get back onboard. A gruesome death was better than feeling pain for the rest of your life.

"I already told you, we wouldn’t necessarily die. It’d hurt, that’s for sure. But I’m a good swimmer." He paused, glancing over the railing and below. "But I guess swimming would be useless. We’d crack a few bones or crack our skulls open on the curve of the hull. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’d be able to swim."

"Stop saying ‘we’ like you mean to jump after me!" You nearly shouted, frustration rising with each pitch. "And I can’t swim, I’ll die either way."

"Well, I’ll tell you something, miss. A lady as beautiful as you, even if you have that—" he gestured with an index finger towards your face, the veil. "Thing on your face, won’t be able to handle the coolness of the water. If you jump, I bet you’d want me to jump right after you before you drown or ask me to get you help."

You swallowed hard. The surfaces of the ship in their own wakes were freezing, the air felt like it was brushing your skin raw way more than your hands had scrubbed your skin raw beneath the scalding shower moments ago.

"How cold?" You mumbled, slowly, somehow changing your mind. Was it even worth it?

But the water didn’t even look like anything. Just a shapeless, vast form that could kill you.

"Freezing." Taehyun noted as if talking about the weather, too busy pulling his boots and socks off to properly look at you. "Many degrees below what a lady like you can handle, I’ll give you that."

You stared at his scuffed boots, they were horrid with the suit he was wearing, but no one paid attention to a musician’s shoes, they paid attention to the melody they conveyed, rarely they paid attention to them, too.

"Have you ever been to America?" He straightened up, hands inside his pockets, he wasn’t intending to leave you alone. Deep in the background, you could see his violin case set atop one of the benches nearing the edge. He could’ve left you alone, but still chose to chase after you. "That’s where we’re going."

"What?" His presence was palpable next to you, but he didn’t try to drag you back. He was giving you a choice followed by a convincing monologue.

"Some places in America have one of the coldest winters around, I’ve been to some colder states before. Mainly Wisconsin." The man continued, leaning over the railing as his eyes too, caught the waves. "They get a lot of snow, the lakes freeze over."

"I know what the cold does— can you leave me alone?!" You snapped, still undecided, but he didn’t budge.

"My cousin fell into a frozen lake when I was a kid while ice fishing over in Wisconsin. Long story short, dying in cold water isn’t peaceful. They only make drowning peaceful in movies, but it steals all of your air until you’re agonized while being stabbed by a thousand, agonizingly sharp knives." He scoffed, his gaze darted everywhere, trying to find words to convince you. "You won’t be able to breathe or think about anything aside from pain."

Your eyes stung further, the tears brimming your eyes and staying at bay. You bit your lip to keep them back, but it felt highly futile. Your arms strained by now, it was a matter of time until you let go and fell against the water to experience what the man was so vividly detailing to you right now.

"I hope you won’t make me jump in after you, but you know. If you do jump, I’ll have to jump." The world felt hazy under the influence of the alcohol you drank, but your rational side seemed to be louder, willing to listen to him.

"You’re crazy." You managed out, choked almost like a wounded animal. Partly from the strain, partly from so much frustration and emotional scars. "You’ll jump after someone who wants it to hurt at the end of the day."

"With all due respect, I’m not the woman with a veil over her face hanging off of the back of a ship." Slowly, almost shakily, his hand came into view next to you. His voice softened from matter-of-factly to worried—it was why he was here. "You don’t want to do this, trust me. Just give me your hand."

The cold strain on your arm had slowly become unbearable, the water that once seemed so peaceful became intimidating as you looked towards the slope of the hull where you could break bones but not die instantly. It made your stomach twist. The idea of it was enough for you to grab his hand, shakily and hesitantly. He was patient, silent with clinical eyes as you carefully turned around to face him for the second time today.

"See? You’re going to be okay." You sucked in a breath at the slow smile he held, the terror of the fall falling away. His hands weren’t warm by any means, at least not now, with the cold breeze still blowing strands of his hair back. "This doesn’t have to hurt. If you wanted something quicker, you could’ve gotten a gun or maybe even pills."

You grimaced at the snot running down your nose, the one time you were grateful for the veil finally arrived. You surely weren’t in your most attractive state, not with puffy eyes and a reddened face. "You’re stopping me from killing myself while talking to me about suicide options?"

"How else would I get you to listen?" He said, gripping your hand a bit tighter for a sense of security. "I don’t want to see you die, let alone die a painful death."

"You don’t know me." You sniffled, shaking your head as your eyes locked on your bare feet digging against the metal railing. "Why would you threaten to jump after me?"

"Why wouldn’t I jump? Would you also let someone commit suicide without trying to help?" The night didn’t seem so full of terror anymore, even if your eyes still were filled with overflowing, hot tears. The clouds darkened the sky, covering the sparkling stars that seemed like they found home in the warm orbs of this man’s eyes.

You supposed he was right, partly. Some part of you still wanted to jump, to feel at peace even if a thousand knives stabbed your lungs and punctured them until all air left you, for your body to sink low into the ocean so you could become a vague memory. This was an opportunity wasted, a perfect one.

But maybe it wasn’t your time, not yet.

No one wanted to die, you didn’t want to die. You wanted to chase your dreams with the same ambition a man was allowed to have, you wanted to marry for love, to find freedom of expression in endless expanses of blank canvas begging to be filled with the creativity inside your mind.

The wind rustled your robe. His eyes stayed still, locked onto yours and steadying you wordlessly. "I’m Taehyun, Kang Taehyun. Can I help you over the railing?"

The name somehow, impossibly fit him. It felt warm to your ears, intriguing and captivating all at once just like the haze of his dark brown eyes.

"It’s nice to meet you, Taehyun." You whispered shakily, allowing a smile to paint your face.

One of his hands let go of yours, you pressed your front closer to the railing as it whisked away the veil. The wind did the rest of the job, carrying the drifting veil across the wind. In another case scenario, you would have panicked. Mingyu would not take it lightly, but he wasn’t anywhere in your mind.

A weight slid off of your shoulders alongside the veil.

"You shouldn’t keep your face hidden with that, beauty is meant to be seen, not hidden." His hands hovered, only to be settled back against yours. "Come on, I won’t let you fall."

"Promise? And if I fall, will you still jump in after me?" Your feet were already moving before Taehyun even replied, you trusted his words. Maybe you were either too naive, or you were undeniably starved for the slightest of human connection and understanding.

"I promise."

Your eyes refused to separate from his, paying more attention to how they glimmered than to the fabric of your robe moving alongside you. It was a matter of a split second momentum, the hem of your robe catching beneath your feet, stuck to the railing. The next thing you knew, his eyes were a mere blur as you slipped.

A shriek, louder than any shriek you’d ever let out, left you. Your body was falling back against the ocean, the waves thrashing and threatening to swallow you whole. Your heart started beating quickly, but the water never swallowed you. You didn’t feel your skull crack against the metal of the curved hull, you were hanging.

You felt lightheaded, weak. The salt you felt on your lips was the flood of tears, not the saltwater beneath you. Still, Taehyun kept his promise. A grunt jerked out of his body as he leaned a bit too further over the railing, hands shaking as he tried to keep a steady grip onto you. The waves were so loud, but not louder than your blood rushing through your ears. Adrenaline swallowed you whole as your legs kicked beneath you, trying to find invisible footing. You couldn’t stop screaming, not with all the terror. Your throat felt raw, every nerve alight with panic.

"You need to let go of one of my hands—" Taehyun’s voice was like a muffled whisper, as if you were already underwater.

"Taehyun, don’t let go! Please don’t let go!" You pleaded, he wasn’t intending to. He held on tighter, the only reason he let go was to slide his hands, one by one, beneath your armpits. Momentarily, it seemed to hurt. But maybe it was your brain being too slow and weak to process you weren’t being let go of, just maneuvered to be pulled back on board.

Your bodies hit the wood with a dull thud, your skin buzzed, your mind still struggled to grapple with the fact you were aboard again. A tangle of limbs, Taehyun’s breath was heavy on your shoulder. It felt safe, safer than you’d felt in years. You weren’t falling anymore, just held by someone who cared.

He moved first. Not to walk away after doing something heroic, Taehyun reached for his coat and draped it over your shoulders. "You’re shaking. It’s probably from nerves, but you’re also not properly bundled up."

"Thank you." You sniffled, wobbly legs holding you up. You stood in front of him once again, this time, there wasn’t a railing that separated you both. "I didn’t mean to slip, I’m sorry."

"I know you didn’t." Taehyun reassured, strain replaced by his usual gentle tone. "You’re welcome."

A shudder ran up your spine, prickling your skin as the waves kept moving beneath. His hands never left your shoulders, a beat of silence filled with contemplation of a huge ‘what if’. "I never caught your name."

"Y/N, Kim Y/N." You replied, gripping the coat tight between your fingers. The fabric was cheap, you could tell. Still, it provided better warmth than the expensive fabric that had nearly taken your life. Warmer.

"I mean your name, miss." He insisted.

Breathlessly, something clogged inside your throat. Nothing came out, not at first. "Y/N L/N."

Your voice hitched, Taehyun didn’t get another chance to reply. The sobs left you, years of pain and yearning to be seen beneath the forgotten veil unraveling with a single question. It wasn’t loud, not an outburst, some parts of you still bent to the demand of being quiet and unnoticeable. But silently, each part of you that had been taped together feebly by your hands snapped towards different sides in shards. It was a small, silent shattering.

His arms were around you next.

You didn’t pull away, Taehyun’s body was inviting and a solid comfort against you. One that Mingyu would seldom offer you, and only did if he was particularly rough with you. Kang Taehyun was a complete stranger, but he was a stranger who allowed you to sob on his chest, to wet the fabric of his button up after saving you from your own mind. Instead of pulling away, Taehyun’s hands settled on your back. He didn’t flinch, nor did he intend to shame you. The sobs that left you wrecked your whole body, jerking it, leaving you raw before his eyes. You were sure his shirt would be soiled, creased beneath your white knuckled grip, and maybe Taehyun knew it too. He didn’t care, neither of you did.

Minutes felt like endless hours of stinging eyes and your throat feeling like it was brushed raw each time your chest forced out another wrenching sob, things you couldn’t control and even things you tried to glue to the sides of your heart to ignore surfaced, forcing their way upwards with each tear that fell onto Taehyun’s chest.

Eventually, you were left with a dull throb that pounded into your head as your shaking subsided. Sobs that were once audible only to Taehyun’s ears and your own became teary, wet sniffles. Exhaustion curled deep into your bones, eyes stinging like you were sure the biting water below would sting all over your broken body had you fallen.

"Aren’t you supposed to be inside playing?" Was the first thing you asked. There wasn’t anything else to ask, in your opinion. A bell rang in the background, dinnertime. You had eaten and drank before Mingyu had dragged you off, but it wasn’t certain that Taehyun had eaten. Musicians often ate last, and in events like this, scraps because no one bothered for those who entertained the rich. "Or eating? Goodness, did I ruin your dinner?"

"I already packed up my dinner before coming out here." Taehyun pointed towards the bench where his lonely violin case sat, beneath it, a black bag stood solitary. Food. Thinking back about it, before Mingyu had started to drag you to meet guests you didn’t want to waste your time with, you stopped by the buffet. Some of the food seemed out of place, in lesser portions. Cutlery that stood next to each pot of food meant to be clean were blurry, someone must have hastily wiped it off but didn’t bother to make it perfect because who would even care?

Clearly, the culprit was here.

You couldn’t blame him, though. Even if your expression shifted to something a bit incredulous. "You took food from the buffet before it was announced ready to be eaten?"

"I’m from the lower class, but that doesn’t mean I’ll eat scraps." Taehyun shrugged, unbothered by the momentary shock painting your features. "You didn’t ruin anything, I’m going to eat one way or another."

You blinked, letting go of his clothes as you stepped back. Still, you followed into rhythm next to him with ease. "Well, what about playing?"

"I suppose slipping away when there are seven musicians left is fine." A way past the fresh point bread roll was pulled out the bag, without hesitation, he extended the first piece towards you. "Plus, eventually your fingers start to numb and hurt. Everyone is drunk and laughing, no one would bat an eye to a missing violinist."

"Unless they were watching." You suggested, despite not being all that hungry—the night had snatched away your appetite enough, you still reached for the roll. It wasn’t soft when you bit into it, not as soft as it had been when you first had them. But it was edible enough. "Then they would notice, don’t you think?"

"Who would be?" Taehyun mused, sitting down with a tired sigh as he languidly stretched before settling back against the bench. "Rich people come to boast about what they own to others, not to pay attention to musicians." He paused, suddenly all too aware you would be included in the circle of rich people. "Unless they’re someone like you."

"How would you know I’d be watching you?" You sat next to him, but you didn’t gaze ahead as he did. You took notice of how he looked, this time properly for the first time today. Further apart from the high slope of his nose and curve of his lips, you noticed now just how angular Taehyun’s face truly is. His cheekbones were high, his face sharp even as he relaxed, it easily made him come across as intense within everything he did. He didn’t look like he belonged in the world full of lower-classes, you could easily mistake him for an upper-class man. He was beautiful without trying, almost like a doll sitting on a shelf.

"You’re not necessarily discreet in the way you stare. I could feel you burn holes in me for at least ten minutes." His voice was teasing, though there wasn’t any real bite to it. Taehyun focused on chewing rather than staring at you—eyes locked upwards towards the stars.

You looked at them too so you wouldn’t give him a further reason to say you stared too much.

"Well, your talent is admirable. It’s only fair I stare, no?" You received a hum as a response, another roll of bread placed on your lap. This was his dinner, and he was offering you it. Everything was almost crazy, the mere fact you stayed was undoubtedly absurd. You sparked his curiosity with laughter that burst into giggles that followed.

"If you’re going to compliment me, try to not laugh right after. I can’t tell if you’re being serious." You didn’t catch the way he deadpanned, you could hear it either way. But despite it all, there was an undercurrent of curiosity. "What’s so funny, huh?"

"You’re crazy." You noted simply, even though you were the one who nearly plunged into bone freezing water temperature not long ago. "You barely know me, saved my life, talked me out of suicide using suicide methods, and now you’re giving me your dinner. Plus—you’re talking about stealing food from the buffet to the wife of the man who organized the event."

"You won’t tell on me, though." Taehyun’s voice sounded easy, and through your peripheral vision, you could catch the way he sounded sure, like he trusted you. "I saved your life, and like you said, I’m sharing my dinner with you. It’s only fair you pay me back by not snitching on me to your husband, or to a valet, isn’t it?"

Well. There was the fact you were now indebted to him, too.

Suddenly, you weren’t all so sure on how to reply. Thank you for saving my life, I don’t know any better way to pay you back so I’ll keep the fact you took well deserved food a secret? Well, no. You stayed quiet as you took another bite of the bread roll, gazing onto the vast expanse of the sky.

"I’m kidding." Taehyun murmured, the rustle of the bag being put away audible to your ears. "You don’t owe me anything, I shouldn’t have overstepped."

"How long have you been playing for?" Avoiding awkwardness in conversation, thankfully, has become a skill you acquired. Often, you had to carry on conversations you didn’t understand. Right questions led onto longer conversations, it dampened the spark of an awkward flame. "Again, you’re rather skilled."

"Since I was four." There was a brief moment where you could see a flicker of a flashback in his eyes, only for it to vanish once he shook his head. "There wasn’t much to do at home, but there was my grandpa’s old violin. It was what I’d do after school, I guess it stuck."

"So you decided to pursue it as a career? Didn’t you want to.. I don’t know, aim for something more stable? You could have studied." You questioned, but you weren’t all too aware of how bad the study system was towards poorer individuals.

"Even if I did study, I wouldn’t have the financial resources to keep going. I just took some lessons a guy in the neighborhood offered, I learnt the rest by myself." You hummed along, letting it drag before it died off entirely. You couldn’t imagine having an instrument as your only means of making money in the future. All of a sudden, every pinch you received by your mother’s lady maids felt worth it.

Well, almost your entire life would be worth it. If you were a man.

You wondered if maybe, in another universe, Taehyun would be the wealthy one. Someone as smart as he looks would have plenty of options to explore, plenty of things to do.

"Would you do it all again?" You proposed, too deep in the ideas of what could’ve been.

"What?"

"Chase after being a violinist, I mean. Is it the only thing you do?" You didn’t need to look in order to know what he was doing, the strong scent of cigarettes that clung to your husband on a daily basis reached your nose and made your face wrinkle, even as you didn’t mention it. Sometimes you weren’t too good at hiding your expressions. "Do you have any other hobbies?"

"I painted for a vast majority of my life." Taehyun blew off the smoke, had the cigarette been put away, anyone could mistake it for the fog leaving your own mouth due to the temperature. "I don’t know if I’d chase after music. Maybe I’d like to explore making art by splashing paint around, but then again, I didn’t have enough resources."

"You paint?" You couldn’t help but gape at him, unable to hide the breaching excitement. "It’s such a shame you weren’t able to pursue it—how much do you know?"

"Well," he started, pointing towards the otherwise dull colored sky. "I know that if you mix dark blue with black, you get that shade."

You snorted, it wasn’t much knowledge, then. Anyone knew the dark vast openness of the sky could be made by that. "You’re about as wise with paint as I am with instruments."

"Color me impressed, Miss L/N." Taehyun teased with a wave of coloring sarcasm, a snort leaving you despite the flush finding your cheeks again.

Not Miss Kim. Miss L/N. You weren’t sure what Taehyun knew about you and Mingyu, but maybe along the way he wondered why you would want to jump off.

It felt like someone saw you, and it softened something in you slowly—something you tried to get rid of.

"Do you not believe me?" You scolded, more carefree than you’d ever been in a conversation. "See, I’m not just good in botanics."

"I never said I doubted you. You’re young, younger and unoccupied minds learn when they want to." You hesitated, biting your bottom lip. Despite all your seeming freedom, deep down you knew who held your strings. You teased, but your knowledge with smearing paint was almost as good as your knowledge on how to achieve a perfect vibrato on the violin.

"Don’t say that as if you’re that much older than me." You replied instead, a note of curiosity in your voice. Taehyun didn’t look that old, especially considering he barely had any wrinkles. A prodigy, that was for sure. Most violinists and musicians you noted already had greying hair and a temper that came with age. And then there was Taehyun, and another musician that seemed to be his friend.. a tall guy whose name you didn’t fully recall.

"What if I am?"

"Well, how old are you, then?" Cheekily, momentarily you looked down on him just slightly, meant to be playful. Though you didn’t keep it up for long, considering people must do this to him everyday.

"Twenty one." He had a tilt to his lips, pleased or amused, you couldn’t tell. Maybe both. It appeared from the gasp that left your lips unprompted. "Don’t tell me you’re older than me? You don’t look the part, if you are."

"Don’t you know it is impolite to ask a lady her age?" You swatted his arm playfully, each passing moment allowing you a pleasant taste of freedom. It had been long since you interacted normally with someone. "Did no one teach you manners, Mr. Kang?"

"Well, I told you my age and how I reached the conclusion I wanted to become a violinist. Isn’t it a fair enough exchange?" The irony wasn’t lost on you, but technically, you didn’t owe Taehyun anything. You could walk away from him, leave the curiosity written all over his face as he inched closer as if you’d whisper.

"You play your cards well." You noted, allowing it to sound more breathless each time he inched closer.

"You learn a lot when you interact with people every so often for a living." His eyes—the ones you’ve been enraptured by, flickered down to your lips in a way that made your heart beat, and your lips quiver up in a smile. "So, pray tell. What is your age, Miss L/N?"

You’ve seen the world, have seen all kinds of people and men. But Taehyun seemed otherworldly, if you’ve seen it all.

"I’m eighteen, you’re correct. I am younger than you." You hesitated, his lips looked unbearably warm despite the cold wind making them cracked.

Maybe, in another universe where you were allowed more freedom, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him.

"You’re married at eighteen?" Despite his knowledge and momentary flicker towards your wedding band, he didn’t move to pull away. "Well, aren’t you the ever responsible one?"

"It’s not uncommon, is it? You can see girls younger than me getting married." You argued, nudging his foot with your own, playfully.

"But you’re not any girl, are you? You’re free spirited, most girls aren’t, that's why they marry young." His words punched you harder than Mingyu had punched your ribs, you opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Like it was being suffocated by your processing brain. "Marriage is a waste when you’re unhappy."

You hesitated, leaning away from him this time. You didn’t miss the beat of disappointment painting his face, but still, you didn’t take back your actions. "I—"

Behind you, you heard the dinner bell ringing again. Maybe by now Mingyu was done wrecking his new mistress for the trip, maybe he got dressed and went down to dinner again and requested Miyeon to have you sent down.

Something about leaving Taehyun stung.

But the realization you weren’t free enough as he is to be so freely talking to him stung harder.

"I should go." You scrambled to your feet, wincing at the biting cold beneath the sole of your feet. You still kept moving.

He didn’t follow.

"You still have my coat, miss. I think I’m going to need that, they overprice them around here." He didn’t sound as amused now, the faint line of a smile that his lips held faded into that same indifferent look he carried earlier this morning.

"Right, sorry.. one second." You shrugged off the coat, all of a sudden the cold bit harder against your arms, still, you folded it neatly and handed it to his extended hands.

When your eyes met again, you swore you could see hesitation.

You turned around without another word, footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

"Y/N?" Softer this time, his voice breached the still silence. It was the only reason you stopped one last time. Looking back, Taehyun was already putting on his coat.

He has been enduring the cold this whole entire time, preferring you to be warm than himself.

"Yeah?"

"You won’t try to do that again, right?" You seriously considered his question—would you? You weren’t sure anymore.

"No." You settled for, even if it felt uncertain on your lips.

"Good." He paused, the curiosity that warred within you blurred with frustration at every hesitant motion of his. Like he didn’t want to overstep, but you wished he would already. "If you need anyone to talk to, or if you need to be just Y/N L/N, this part of the ship rarely has visitors. It’s often warm enough for someone like you during the daytime. And I work mainly evening shifts, though I usually retreat at ten."

His voice was gentle, though his eyes were far more tender. Your breath hitched, your heart skipped a beat unprompted. He was unbearably compassionate with you, and even if it was perchance prohibited, you wanted to keep coming here. If your husband could have any mistress he wanted, what harm there is to come and be consolidated by another man?

"Thank you, Kang Taehyun." You whispered, barely audible, so much so that you doubted he even heard your words. The only confirmation you got was his widening, simple smile.

"Goodnight, Miss Kim."

You were just Y/N L/N to Kang Taehyun, but each time you parted ways, you were Miss Kim again. Because you couldn’t be anyone else without being with him, hence why your soul easily crawled out of hiding near him.

The walk back towards your quarters was far more peaceful than your exit. Whereas you had been running and uncaring, now you were acutely aware of every stare towards you. It made you want to shrink on yourself due to embarrassment—you could easily come across as a drunken, careless woman. You needed no mirror to easily tell you looked wrecked, with reddened, blotchy cheeks and bloodshot eyes, you looked simply terrible. No one would assimilate you to the woman who had been prettily wrapped around Mingyu’s arm for part of the night.

Miyeon wasn’t anywhere to be found, you assumed she had already retreated to bed judging by the fact her uniform was neatly arranged in the corner next to the bathroom where she changed. The silence enveloped you as the rustle of the blankets of your bed being pulled back filled the air, a silence that more than oftentimes felt too eerie for you to handle, but now felt peaceful.

Being able to plunge in the softness of your bed rather than being enveloped by the wild sea felt peaceful, even if your body still felt incredibly sore. Adrenaline dampened the feeling, talking with Taehyun gave you an escape, but now, even as you couldn’t help but focus on the ache—it was bearable.

Though tonight, you finally slept. However, this time, it was not with more tears down your face. You weren’t untouchable to pain by any means, just freed from it for a singular night. And so, when you slept, you slept dreamlessly but deeper and better than you’ve ever had in years.

WHEN YOU WERE LITTLE, you thought of marriage feeling like home. A warm morning hug wrapped around endless, seamless promises that rushed out with croaked voices and raw, patchy throats that morning often greeted many with. Home, you thought, would be living warmly with your parents.

Home to you was the early mornings where you would sit with conjoined hands whispering soft prayers for the thankfulness for the grand meal that wafted scents that made your mouth water. Your parents’ marriage felt like home because they laughed, because whenever you went on vacations, your father loved your mother thoroughly.

The first time you went on vacation with them, you went over to a beautiful beach in Rio de Janeiro. The warm splash of water beneath the summer sun as you laughed loudly, as your father lifted your mother warmly into his arms and jumped in the water with her still in his arms despite all of her protesting. You could some days still hear the echo of the shells you pressed in your ears, or the blur of the unfamiliar language all around you as you drank from the freshly plucked coconuts with a plastic straw.

The beach house was hot, Brazil had a terrible tropical weather that you loved despite the sweat constantly dripping down your neck. The houses were structured beautifully, almost rurally, but they always fit in with its timeline—Though most English people would turn their noses towards the simplicity, you enjoyed the way the lounge outside was floored with dry bricks that felt raspy against your feet. Sitting outside with the smell of tropical trees while having a book in your hands as you swung with the fleeting, warm bursts of air against your face was something you still yearned to see again.

You had spent a month or so over there after your father had taken off from work. You missed the way your mother looked cooking breakfast as sunlight spilled across the horizon and breached every nook and cranny of the place, you still remembered how cranky she sounded after fighting with locals over the price of strawberries with a rusty Portuguese that came off messily like the loop of a cursive writing each time she couldn’t roll her r sounds or the strong accent of the tilde above the a.

The warmth of marriage was in the way your father looped his arms around your mother’s waist and kissed her neck while calling her ‘Querida’ in the early mornings as she poured juice from the jug into three cups above the neatly arranged breakfast table.

Home to you was your father scaring away the monsters that hid under your bed when you were afraid of the dark, kissing your damp forehead as he wiped your teary eyes. It was in the lingering notes of a song his own mother would sing to him to soothe his terrors, now passed down onto you.

Next morning, the curtains were flapping about due to the open window that allowed rushes of cool air with the smell of sea salt that you dreamed about. The same sea salt from the laughing, sometimes scorching and too loud with life on Brazilian beaches. Your body felt boneless against the mattress, you shifted, groaned, and still forced your eyes open to stretch.

Your parents weren’t here to coddle you anymore. Now, the monsters your dad would spook away from beneath your bed were your own to carry and face. Ones you should be ‘strong enough’ to face.

You wish you ended up as lucky as your mother had.

So, you acted as you normally would. You felt queasy at the absence of the veil as you woke your muscles with cold water. Mingyu would surely ask, no excuses would be able to undo your mistake. He was most of the time, unpredictable whenever he was infuriated.

Whatever. You tossed it into many of the other piles of whatevers you built up along your life.

Upon your descent to meet Mingyu, the cold flash on his face upon the lack of the veil covering your face was barely visible to anyone. Anyone but you. You still sat down with a light, polished and practiced smile. Almost as if you hadn’t attempted suicide last night. When he leaned over to press his lips against yours, it was far too rough. You internally cringed at the overpowering, strong smell of the cologne he always opted for.

"Miyeon couldn’t find you last night." He noted, settling back into place as his fingers flickered over the breakfast menu. "Where were you? Must’ve been somewhere vivid if you lost something important."

Something important. The wedding veil.

“I felt seasick last night, so I went out to take a breather. I must let you know it was terribly windy." The emphasis on the windy was a hopeful prayer that, somehow, Mingyu would let you off the hook. Especially considering his recent foul mood towards you. "I thought I was going to throw up, I needed some fresh air."

"Is that so?" He hummed, long drawn as his finger traced over the lines of the menu, though you were sure he was just trying to make you anxious because from afar you could see a waitress coming towards your table with a bright smile, holding a cup of coffee and a plate with a pastry. "Well, you shouldn’t be all that careless. Now Eunwoo will have to go through a big trouble to find you a new one."

Your hands were trembling as you reached for the menu yourself, flipping through pages as the soft and yet impossibly sharp clang of the glass plate hit the wooden table, followed by Mingyu’s polite appreciating noise. "You’re not mad?"

"The veil is replaceable, what is one day?" You paused for a moment, gaze snapping upwards. Maybe it was the atmosphere in the verandah, where the birds cawed outside and the wealthy talked about business or aimless things, but Mingyu was actually in a great mood. He didn’t look deceiving, like he intended to lay a hand at you further tonight behind closed doors.

You really hoped that was the case.

You remembered this exact moment a couple of months ago. You had left your veil folded and forgotten on the lady’s bathroom sink, too engrossed helping a retching woman while you searched for her husband outside. The desperation and frustration whenever someone uttered an ‘I don’t know’ despite the man being the host of the party, as the woman who had one of her arms thrown around your neck claimed, no one seemed to know him. It was truly absurd.

Mingyu didn’t like your face being shown off for so long.

Arriving home, stepping through the door meant more bruises. They littered down your ribs, purple hues that made anyone ever doubt your skin was ever perfectly fair. Sometimes, the shapes of his knuckles branded themselves against your skin whenever they were firm enough to want to break your ribs. So you wouldn’t ever leave him.

You had every right to be skeptical of him right now.

"You’re in a good mood." To his credit, Mingyu smiled. It took you back to last night, a feminine voice whining his name, calling for him. The rustle of sheets that was muted by your rushing blood that roared in your ears. The bed had been creaking, he reeked of alcohol and a strong feminine perfume. When you came back, you hadn’t found him waiting to apologize with senseless and meaningless slurred apologies. The main room within the suite was empty, furniture still deranged, and the slight creak of wood beneath your feet made itself present followed by the eerie silence when you came back.

What also came back to you was the cold, merciless slosh of water. The curve of the hull. Taehyun’s rumpled shirt, his eyes and the set of his jaw as he tried to haul you back over the rail. You remembered how warm his hands had been due to the sweat that broke across his whole body when you slipped, how you felt goosebumps break across your whole skin and being faintly aware (or just unwilling to recognize) that it wasn’t because of the cold, northern air.

You specifically remembered how his eyes looked beneath the stars.

Bright, shining. You still wondered if he would be a big shot had he been born in your shoes.

"I made some connections." Connections, you mused. Connections often meant lipstick that didn’t even match your shade underneath the bed. It happened too many times for you to properly count how much money in those tubes you had thrown out already in a fit of rage. "There are a lot of things to do on this ship, I take? You’ve been wandering around a lot."

You didn’t feel angry anymore, at least not as much as you did before.

"Indeed." Your eyes locked onto the paper, but you weren’t particularly hungry. Your appetite made sure to make itself inexistent since your first bruise bloomed across your skin. "Did you find anything to your liking?"

There was a certain normalcy to the conversation despite the unspoken, invisible line of the power balance between the two of you. Sometimes, moments like these almost made you feel normal, like deep down you two weren’t playing roles, like this wasn’t a facade.

Moments like these undeniably needed picture-perfect facades, ones that glimmered and made others stare and envy beneath your heel, ones that glimmered as much as the sun beaming and reflecting across the waves of the settled down ocean. It was the etiquette of a prolific society, one that required a perfect performance each day.

"They have gambling. A smoking room, too. Turns out they’re very thoughtful. I’d say they feature far more entertainment than the one in the Mauretania." His face had no enjoyment, just a bland, ignorant lack of attention towards the conversation. Dismissive. "I have found where to spend my time while lounging."

"I found a library." It was a lie, you hadn’t found any libraries—let alone passed by one. You’d merely heard women rushing in their high heels and fancy dresses whispering about it in fits of giggles, women who were clearly highly educated. But that would do. "They have thousands of books."

"A library, you say? I thought you didn’t read." Your throat itched, nearly, you had choked on your saliva hadn’t you held it back. Mingyu’s lips were paused on a sip he wasn’t taking of coffee with narrowed eyes. "Whatever, it’s good you’re getting some useful information inside that brain of yours." He resumed, his rather loud habits of drinking with slightly loud slurps showing.

You hadn’t realized you were lacking air until you slowly released it through your nose. "It’s nice to engage in new things. New country, new habits."

Mingyu hadn’t replied, but only because the sweet voice of a waitress cut the conversation neither of you wanted to have. "What will you have today, miss?"

"I’ll have some porridge, please." You nodded, though your smile didn’t reach your eyes.

"Anything to drink?"

"Not in particular, no." With a nod, the waitress left. The silence was awkward, heavy. Mingyu rather decided to not acknowledge you as the crumbs of the pastries flew out of his mouth with each bite. Boredom took hold of you, allowing your eyes to linger outside the open window.

Being bored was better than being scared, or reprimanded, you supposed.

"So, yesterday." Mingyu started, the cup setting down against the table with a minor sound as his index finger trailed the rim of the cup. "That man, who was he?"

"The one I was talking to?" You forced yourself to remain relaxed, carefully looking away from the window. "Choi Yeonjun, don’t you know him? I thought you personally invited everyone."

"Seriously?" Mingyu laughed, not the kind of warm laugh that becomes contagious, a dry laugh. "Woman, do you seriously expect me to remember the name of every single person in that party? Maybe those books will really do you good."

"Right." You swallowed down the flicker of humiliation, even though it was swallowed heavily. Warm porridge was placed in front of you by the soft looking hands of the waiter, she didn’t talk—merely looked over at your slightly frowning face, and took it as a cue to leave and not speak. "Either way, he told me he works with the financial department of the company."

"Is that so? That oughta make him a really smart man." His words came across as mocking, less appreciative than they should be. "Clearly not enough to not touch a woman he shouldn’t be touching."

"It was an honest mistake, can you blame him?" You forced out, bringing a spoonful of porridge to your mouth. The taste was warm, rich as it coated your tongue. It smelled amazingly, wafting around the bubble atmosphere around the table. Though, it lacked flavor balance. Maybe they forgot to use some salt, after all. "We were just talking."

"And what use does a married woman have talking to a single man? He had his eyes all over you." He hissed, you forced another spoonful down. Careful, despite the barely concealed tremor of your hands. "Women should be with women, especially ones who have a clear wedding band on their finger. We’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?"

"Mingyu, can we not do this here? It’s nine in the morning—" You glanced around nervously, the hushed whispers gaining the looks and glances of curious people from the same financial class who had nothing to do with their lives. Your focus towards them was snapped with the scratching sound of the chair in front of you, spoon clattering down on the table as porridge spilled over from the spoon, all over the material of the cloth and some on your wrist and dress. His grip was firm, like he was attempting to crush your wrist, somehow, he managed to make it look like he was watching out for you.

Your face twisted in slight pain, though it snapped back in place with a glare. Disgust plastered all over your body, swallowing you whole. Mingyu’s breath was hot, brimming with something dangerous you hated to acknowledge. You were beneath him, always would be, and he’d make sure you knew it. "Talk to these men all you want, but don’t you dare taint my reputation. You know what’ll happen to you." He paused, lips curling into a grin. "You’re nothing without me, and you know it. These men don’t have half of what I can provide for you, so you better behave instead of whoring around because you’re stuck with me."

"Is everything okay around here?" You never thought you’d feel so grateful at the sound of a waiter speaking. The chilly air blew on your face after Mingyu pulled away, giving one last look that felt like a warning.

"She’s okay, just spilled her porridge. Have to make sure my wife hasn’t burned herself, shouldn’t I?" You smiled with a nod towards the woman with wide, slightly suspicious eyes. "What are you looking at? Go get some napkins, for God’s sake."

While domestic violence was something common, it wasn’t normalized in public. It was something where everyone saw the evidence, the bruises that never left because new ones kept blooming. The woman scurried away with a knowing look of pity towards you that made something sting in you, because no one could do anything once you were owned by a powerful man.

You thought you had gotten used to the eyes of people who sighed and shook their heads when they got a glimpse of your battered skin, turns out you didn’t. Still, even now, you felt powerless and brimming with resentment.

"Behave." Was all Mingyu lastly gritted out, straightening his slightly rumpled suit and adjusting his tie.

THROUGH THE BRIMMING HAZE of the warm sun in the nearing afternoon-ish, lunch was announced by the ring of a bell. Beforehand, you were parading around, wrapped up around Mingyu’s arm like you usually would be. Despite your slight nods and acknowledgments as your husband exchanged words with men with higher intellect in words you couldn’t bother to decipher at the moment, you weren’t quite in the moment.

You truly admired the freedom men were allowed, sometimes you envied it so much you thought that the way they enjoyed it wasn’t enough. Maybe if they had felt an ounce of what it was like to be wearing your heels, they would take further enjoyment in boasting and laughing so loudly other people stared in annoyance.

You weren’t having it.

It was something about a project for the company that they would launch in America, something they called revolutionary with the expansion. You were lost in the translation, their words becoming gibberish. Had you been in a better mood, then perhaps you would chide in here and there to offer the little intel you had that could ‘better’ the company. Either way, they never took you seriously. Even if they did, the credits would go under the name of one of the men (mainly Mingyu) in the company.

It just made you more acutely aware of how much people valued you, and only acknowledged you whenever it came to something a woman is traditionally meant to do—like if the house has one speck of dust more than it’s meant to have.

"You look quite bored, Mrs.Kim." The man in front of you, Kangta, was it? You couldn’t quite recall it, maybe something along those lines. Carefully, he remarked as he finally noticed your far away look, looking at something but not quite looking at it.

You snapped quickly out of your trance, coughing after slightly choking on your own saliva. "Me? Oh, no. What were you saying, again?"

"You know, one of the men in the party had a terrible cold, are you sure she’s well, Mingyu?" He ignored your reassurance, moreover focusing on Mingyu.

It was truly laughable, how people expected Mingyu to know everything about you like he could tell what was or wasn’t wrong with you or your body. Or your mental health, not like he cared—it was why it made it deeply more ironic.

"She’s fine, again, it’s not like she would understand everything with the flow and use of words we’re using." Mingyu shrugged, you wished you had the option so physically seethe at that. But you couldn’t. You were expected not to.

"Well, pray tell, then. What was it you were talking about?" Nevertheless, you kept smiling. It was all you could follow along with, as deep down you wanted to leave this place.

"We’re considering partnering up with another business, launch a product together. We’ve been discussing the market segment, discussing direct and indirect competition and value proposition—" Kangta paused, a frown deeper than the other one appearing on his face. "Sorry, is that too hard for you to understand?"

You understood it fine, fine enough because of the books you skimmed through at home when you found them on Mingyu’s nightstand on his side of the bed.

"Well, if it isn’t Mrs.Kim and the man of the hour, Kim Mingyu!" A voice nearly startled you, but it was familiar, too familiar for your liking. As your head whipped around too fast for anyone’s liking, you caught Yeonjun walking over with a smile and a polished wave.

You felt partially relieved.

But not as much as you’d wish to be, considering Mingyu looked like he had a bone to pick with him.

Yeonjun’s eyes raked you, particularly lingering on your face as if trying to place something different—something off he couldn’t quite pinpoint until it finally clicked, had this been somewhat similar to a cartoon, you were sure an exclamation point of realization for some exaggerated emphasis could pop up near his head.

"Respectfully, I might say you look particularly stunning without anything covering your beauty." He lifted his glass, with more champagne in it. You wondered how someone could drink so much and seem so unaffected, but maybe he did this more than you have done in a single day. "I take it you considered my advice?"

But also who the hell drinks champagne all day long?

Well, apparently Choi Yeonjun.

"I guess you could say that." You smiled, not fully agreeing, but not fully denying it, either. Because the wind was the one that took the veil away from you.

"You must be Choi Yeonjun." Mingyu cleared his throat, extending his hand towards Yeonjun in a smile that felt too tight. "It’s nice to meet you."

"Oh, we’ve met before." You glanced at how their hands held each other’s, too tight to possibly be friendly. "Aren’t men in such high power supposed to have good memories?"

"Well, I do have one. I just don’t remember employees who aren’t as.. involved." The strain in his voice was audible, almost palpable. Mingyu had always been a short tempered man.

"Really? I’ve been set to become the manager of the financial team when we go to America. Maybe being someone so.. major requires having a lot of stuff inside your head, huh?" Yeonjun noted, flickering his eyes towards you once more.

"You should stay without that veil more often." And then, he was back to Mingyu. "And you should come along to the smoking room, are you really going to miss all the fun there?"

"Being important means I have things to do." Without even seeming like he meant to look like he was boasting, Mingyu still managed to look insufferably arrogant.

"Well, you should take this time to have fun instead of being loaded with work." Yeonjun shrugged, something you couldn’t decipher gleaming in his eyes. "Come on, it’ll be fun. You can be back after loosening up."

"Well, I couldn’t possibly leave my dear wife—"

"I’ll go to the library." You blurted out quickly, recomposing yourself when all eyes fell on you. "You can go, I’ll have a little something for lunch and go."

"Aren’t you hungry? You should have a proper meal, miss." Kangta cautiously mentioned, eyeing the buffet already being set. "A lot of delicacies and dishes are being set."

"I’m not really hungry." You reassured with a slight shake of your head—in a way, Yeonjun was taking Mingyu away from you. It made you wonder if he knew something, but Yeonjun did have the kind of look that came across as he knew everything. Or like he knew more than he let on. "Plus, I’m feeling a bit seasick. I wouldn’t want to end up.. sick to my stomach and you know."

"Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?" Mingyu chided, so carefully you would’ve believed it if you weren’t aware of how he is.

"I’ll be fine." You repeated, growing increasingly antsy in your own mind. "Feel free to go, enjoy your time, darling."

Before Mingyu could protest further, you already unlinked your arms as Kangta started talking plans with him, taking him away alongside Yeonjun’s constant insistence. Yeonjun’s wink when he turned his head back just slightly towards you wasn’t hard to miss—your eyes following to where he looked before turning back at you while mouthing a ‘go do what you have to do’ to you before disappearing right around the crowded corner.

Taehyun.

He was walking past, not quite staying, but lingering without meaning. You could tell he was talking with someone, a guy around his height with a mullet, wispy bangs concealing part of his face. It wasn’t the same guy from yesterday, the tall one with eyes you noted were rather wide and expressive, you wondered if all of them were friends—you doubted all of them came from the same place, anyway.

They wore similar clothes, albeit both likely being musicians, it was all they could afford. Their clothes were surely once white and new, but now they have yellowed with what you guessed was time and way too much use.

Coming from a wealthy perspective, such as yours, it was something made to look down upon. Dirty clothes, rumpled and untidy, and yet, he still managed to make himself look unbelievably good despite the stains.

Better than in a suit, too. He felt more real, more than just a violinist.

Without Mingyu in sight, you allowed your voice to cut through the air followed by the rushed, short and sharp taps of your shoes against the floor. "Taehyun!—"

Your voice was unmistakable as you stepped past the door into the open air, Taehyun’s eyes found you immediately, whatever he was saying to the guy next to him was completely cut short. You didn’t have something to say, you realized halfway through the distance. You didn’t have a reason to reach out to Taehyun, not at all. But it was better than being alone.

It was what you initially told yourself instead of acknowledging you sought being next to him.

"Are you feeling better?" Was the first thing he asked when you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. "Since yesterday, I mean."

You blinked, slightly taken aback by the straightforwardness. "Yeah, I’m better."

"That’s good." Taehyun smiled ever-so-slightly, the silence that was about to take over would be almost awkward had the guy next to Taehyun not jumped into the conversation.

"You’re Miss L/N?" Curiously, he questioned. Though it was with less enthusiasm than he seemed he could portray. Because he knew he and Taehyun were beneath you.

But most of all, something squeezed in your heart. Not only because Taehyun had already talked to someone about you, but also because he introduced you as you. Not as Mingyu’s wife, or just someone Mingyu owned.

"Yeah." You nodded a split second too late, forcing down the sudden wave of emotion down your throat, movements slightly tremulous. "And you are?"

"Beomgyu, Choi Beomgyu. It’s nice to meet you—Taehyun told me about you." His hand extended towards you warmly, you could only accept it and shake it. Like Taehyun’s fingers, his were calloused and bumpy from years of vibrating and jumping across the strings. "You do live up to his descriptions."

From what you recalled, Beomgyu played cello. Though you weren’t sure if you were mistaking him for the tall man, your memories are still a bit fuzzy from so much champagne and alcohol.

"You’re too kind." You humbly replied. "You’re also one of the musicians, right? Cello?"

"Striking memory you have also, huh?" Beomgyu mused, hands sliding into his pockets. "Yeah, I play the cello. Me and Taehyun have been playing together for a while now."

So most of them did know each other well. It was one question answered for you, but there was one clearly forming at the tip of Beomgyu’s tongue as he let out an awkward sound akin to a laugh, eyes flickering to Taehyun, and then to you.

"Taehyun wouldn’t tell me how you two met, why don’t you enlighten me? I doubt he had the courage to approach you firsthand." You paused, words choking inside your throat as you recalled exactly how you two met. Beomgyu would probably be colored surprised to find out Taehyun was the one who approached you.

"We met last night after the party." Taehyun cut in before you could reply, still sure it was a sensitive topic for you. "She.. slipped. Right on the deck, I helped her up."

That was better than what you were going to probably blurt out, at least.

"Very gentlemanly of you, Taehyun. Helping fallen ladies on the deck instead of working." Beomgyu teased, but you could still see the flicker of surprise within his eyes, eyebrows shooting up quickly in an almost comical way. "Is that why you disappeared before the last three pieces and never came in for dinner?"

Were all of them this expressive with their facial expressions?

"You know I refuse to stoop down as to eating the scraps of what the rich eat, Beomgyu." Taehyun practically deadpanned, only for him to seemingly hesitate before speaking as he looked at you. "Not that I mean to disrespect you, I mean—"

"Is that any way to speak to a lady?" Beomgyu scolded, whacking Taehyun on the back with enough force Taehyun lost his footing for a moment, at least slightly.

"I already said I didn’t mean to offend her and she knows what I mean, Christ."

"Still, she’s an upper class lady. You ought to watch your words near her."

"It’s fine." You cut in, a bit awkward to stand there between Beomgyu scolding and correcting Taehyun and Taehyun retorting back. "It’s nothing, especially considering Taehyun was a huge help for me yesterday."

You put a slight emphasis on the ‘huge’, watching Beomgyu nod and clear his throat, only to whirl his head around at the sound of his name being called.

"Choi Beomgyu!" Loud footsteps reached your eyes before the guy, well, you guessed the person was a guy, appeared in vision. You were (or not weren’t that) surprised to see the tall man from yesterday. The one who was sitting by the piano, playing it in quick motions your eyes could barely follow. "Did your mother not teach you how to put your things away properly? I nearly stepped on your bow!"

"You what?!" You could have laughed at how Beomgyu nearly paled in front of you, shaking it off but barely, he was already running off and pushing past grumbling and scornful first class passengers. "Emergency! Sorry, I’ll see you around, Miss L/N!"

"Are they always like this? Are all of you—I mean." Your eyes lingered on the spot where Beomgyu had just run through, smiling. He was so carefree, expressing himself so openly.

You wished you had that kind of freedom.

"Sometimes. It depends." Taehyun shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant about it, but he was amused with a curve of his lips that he hadn’t registered. "That was Soobin, Choi Soobin. Him and Beomgyu are practically inseparable."

It came so naturally to him— almost painfully so. It fascinated you almost as much as it intrigued you.

"I can see that." You shifted from one foot to another, suddenly all too aware of the slight ache on one of them for putting too much of your balance on one leg. "It must be nice to not be so alone all the time."

"I’d be rich if I had a penny for every moment I’m not alone." Taehyun shrugged, chuckling lightly. "Metaphorically."

"You’d be someone great if you were." You finally allowed the thought that has been plaguing your mind all along to slip out, momentarily regretting it once you saw the flicker of something in Taehyun’s expression—something that said he didn’t expect this from you, but once it was out, you could only continue. "If you were in my social class, you’d probably make something work. You would be able to follow what you wanted."

His brows pinched together, contemplating. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"How are you so sure I’d make it big out in your world?" Taehyun tilted his head to the side, but he wasn’t teasing you by any means. He seemed genuinely curious. "All you know is that I play violin."

"You mentioned you wanted to pursue another form of art." Tentatively, you whispered. Almost as if you shouldn’t. "You’d be a great artist. Maybe a big one, you have passion."

"You haven’t even seen me paint or draw before, though?"

You felt your heart miss a beat at how he seemed taken aback that you even remembered such a small detail.

"I just can tell."

For a split moment, you lost Taehyun’s form as two couples walked past the gap between you. Uncaring to apologize, considering Taehyun was clearly a lower-class man. They didn’t acknowledge you, either. But because your husband wasn’t with you, a secret, unspoken code for ‘without a man, you don’t matter.’

"Docks?" The single word came to you in a question you understood all too well. Last night, his offer for comfort and a promise to talk to you if you ever needed it.

"If people won’t walk between us when we talk over there, then lead the way."

Wordlessly, you followed Taehyun. Closely behind, though not too much. Everyone knew you were married to Mingyu, so you didn’t want to somehow offend him publicly or cause a scandal.

Though it was almost open how much he cheated on you.

Pure hypocrisy, you often mused.

You could almost taste the sea from the beach next to the house in the Tropical Country that was Brazil as you gazed out at the glimmering ocean. Right now, it didn’t seem as intimidating as the swallowing void had been yesterday. The rush of the waves splattering and creating splash sounds across the metal side of the ship was comforting, but it did little to erase the memory from yesterday’s events, so you snapped your gaze away from it quickly.

"So," you started as the crowd began to thin out, the further up you went along the ship, the fewer the audience. "You don’t have much to do today?"

"Not really. I do have a performance later tonight for a few hours, though." Taehyun affirmed, steps slower than usual to accommodate your speed as you walked with the thin heels. "Shouldn’t you be with your husband?"

"He’s busy. Found out there was a smoking room and went there with a man called Choi Yeonjun."

"Yeonjun?" Taehyun blinked, shaking his head with a smile. "Of course he’d be the one to do that."

"Do you know each other?"

"Yeah. We’re not necessarily.. best friends. But he isn’t a snobbish upper-class man, he hangs around the third and second class areas sometimes, it’s how we met." Finding one of the not so damp benches from the constant flicker of water from the sea onto the docks, Taehyun sat down.

You found yourself sitting within a respectable distance from him, jaw hanging open ever so slightly. "I knew he was a bit.. wild, but a man with a good reputation like him? Wandering in the lower classes?"

"Everyone knows him down there."

"Everyone?" You questioned in an almost dumbfounded way, you never expected Yeonjun to be that.. free spirited.

"He brings the parties to life sometimes."

"Well, that does sound like him." From this angle, the sun seemed to partially shade Taehyun’s face. The rays making his hair lighter, almost a shade of hazel as one of his eyes shaded into molten gold.

Beautiful.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Well, you’re going to ask me one anyway, aren’t you?" You pulled your compact mirror out, just to avoid how intensely Taehyun was staring at you.

"Why did you try to commit suicide yesterday?"

You paused halfway through pretending you were touching up your lipstick, compact mirror held up in the air. It truly wasn’t about makeup, Miyeon did wonders and a marvelous job when it came to tiny details and tricks that wouldn’t let your makeup crease or become cracky. It was about something else cracking, like the facade that was slowly but surely slipping, melting like the molten gold that emanated in careful gentleness from Taehyun’s eyes.

When you first stepped on the titanic, it had always been just a game to you. A facade you had to play was a personalized character you had to play as, something you had to parade pretending you were even if it killed you bit by bit mercilessly, and slowly.

You couldn’t hold that same facade up anymore.

"Why does it matter?" You mumbled out, forcing every bit of sheer regret, anger—despair you felt while being stuck in this marriage down your throat. Like you’ve had all these years. "I’m here now, and I won’t try to die again."

"You’re unhappy." It was what he had meant to press on yesterday before you cut him off, saved by the last ringing tune of the dinner bell. But now, there wasn’t much escape. "It’s not that hard to see."

"It doesn’t matter if I am, it's my duty."

"But it isn’t love."

You knew it wasn’t love, the gods out there if they even existed—never particularly being religious, knew how much you knew. But it wasn’t a choice that was yours to take. It was about making your parents proud, fulfilling a legacy, duty and ties. Cruel as Mingyu was, it wasn’t in your place to choose for yourself.

"You’re taking this too far, you know." You gritted out, not because you were mad at Taehyun, you weren’t. Not at all. But speaking up about being unhappy when it was all you had felt blossoming for years alongside the ugly bruises was almost impossible. "You should leave."

"I should leave?" Taehyun scoffed, shaking his head. But he was already on his feet when you stood up yourself. "Come on, Y/N. You’re good at a lot of things, but you’re terrible at hiding things when people jab at them."

"What do you know about me? Nothing! You don’t get to just say these things—"

"I know that you clearly don’t want to be anywhere with that man." Taehyun’s shoulders slumped, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked away almost painstakingly slowly. "I won’t tell anyone, but stop forcing yourself to tell everyone you’re happy. Anyone can tell by looking closely enough."

You scoffed, partially from disbelief and because he was right. You hated he was right. "You’ve been watching me?"

"At the party. No husband who loves his wife treats her like that, at least not from where I come from."

Silence seemed to stretch amongst you, behind you, chatter was still loud because of the midday events and lunch being served. You hesitated, faltered even.

Because no one had dared to ask you how you felt since getting married, everyone just marveled at how seemingly perfect you and Mingyu were, how you were a privileged woman.

Apparently, Taehyun wasn’t a man like many others.

"Fine." You breathed out, slowly descending back onto the bench, posture almost rigid. "How does that change anything? Just satisfies whatever curiosity you had?"

"It doesn’t change anything." Taehyun admitted, you didn’t move. "But admitting you’re unhappy makes you true to yourself."

You tailored all of that facade you wore around everyone, the spark and glimmer and all of the elegance down to something more simple. Just you. Not Mrs.Kim. "Why are you like this?"

Slowly, almost as if testing if you’d move away, Taehyun sat down next to you in a palpable distance. "Have you ever been to France?"

Taehyun changing topics or tying them into a deeper meaning stopped fazing you, you shook your head in slow motion, focusing on your hands as if they were interested, like the fabric of the glove was something to only now be appreciated. "No. What’s your point?"

"Well, I have."

"What for?"

"When I was younger—after Wisconsin, all those things. My dad got a job opportunity all the way in France, Annecy, precisely.” Taehyun started, glancing at you sideways only to find you slowly losing to your curiosity. "I was what? Maybe nearing eighteen? And I had no clue what to do with my life."

"Are you making this a life lesson?" You nearly complained, only to be shot a glance. You hated life lessons.

"Will you let me finish or do you want to stay curious?"

You weren’t supposed to stay, not really. Not when Mingyu had a personal valet, that Eunwoo guy whose stare brought chills down your spine, but you did anyway. Taehyun took your silence as a sign to continue.

"Well, I got more into sketching while I was in France since it’s cheaper than painting, considering they’re very.. passionate about it there. Anyway— most of the women I painted were kind of.." He trailed off, almost like searching for the right word.

"Unwanted relationship?" You added, nodding on.

"Unwanted relationship." He repeated, agreeing. "They’d always voice it to me, uncomfortable and sad as it was. I felt bad, but couldn’t do anything. At least I would listen—well, somewhat, sometimes I’d be too caught up sketching."

"You sketched women before becoming a violinist? Like—nude?" Your eyes widened without you even meaning them to, earning a snort from Taehyun.

"Do I look like I don’t do that? I don’t paint landscapes, Y/N."

"No, it’s not that!— well, kind of? When you said you liked to paint I didn’t think that you sketched naked women!" You retorted, heat tingling up your cheeks, but that just seemed to deepen the smug look on Taehyun’s face as pressed his lips in a thin line to suppress laughter.

"Told you I knew a lot of things." And he wasn’t wrong. Well, from what you gathered until now, Taehyun has almost never been wrong when talking to you. But nude women were something you did not expect from his portfolio.

"Like how to tell women are miserable in their marriages?" You added jokingly after slightly regaining your composure after a moment, eyebrows arched.

"That too." He paused, settling back fully against the bench as he gazed into the open ocean. "I also do know that the people here only have enough boats for half the quantity of passengers."

You frowned, something queasy twisting on your stomach slowly at his words, but you brushed it off. A ship like this crashing or sinking had low probabilities. "That’s not.. the most comforting thing to hear when you’re in the middle of the sea. How do you even know that?”

Taehyun shook his head. "It isn’t. Guess it’s a good thing this ship is unsinkable." Taehyun considered something for a moment—probably telling you where he got some of his ship intel from, if no one could know then Taehyun shouldn’t either. "You overhear a lot of things when you work around here."

"We better hope it’s unsinkable."

"Yeah." Taehyun cleared his throat, fingers drumming against his thigh.

"You should come to dinner tonight. First class." You finally blurted out, because frankly, you were about to thank him when you realized simple words just wouldn’t do when he saved your life. Though you hadn’t planned it beforehand, you couldn’t take it back.

"In the first-class dining hall?" Taehyun questioned carefully, watching how you chewed on your lip and nodded. It was almost cute, and Taehyun would give in if it wasn’t the fact it’s the first-class being discussed. "Yeah, no. Absolutely not."

"What? Why?" You exasperated, sounding defeated even if you wouldn’t give up.

"First of all, I have to work." He lifted one finger up, which was a fair reason alone, but he had more. "Secondly, your husband wouldn’t necessarily be thrilled with you bringing another man to dinner without context, and third of all, I don’t have clothes aside from my work suit."

"Mingyu will be out in the smoking room gambling, I’m sure of it. And you can wear the suit, you said it yourself—no one cares, who’ll see you again once the ship halts?" You insisted, forcing your face to not fall like it always did. At least, it fell when you were younger and you were told no to something. "I’ll have someone, anyone to hold him back there in the room."

Old habits die hard.

"I still have to work, some of us have to work to get paid, Miss L/N. And who would that someone even be?"

"Well, Mr.Kang." You pinched your brows together, trying your best to seem like you had it all under control. "My lady maid happens to know a very nice Valet. Kai, I think. My husband is very fond of him. Now, how much are you paid during your shifts?"

"Pardon me?" Taehyun let out a laugh, though mostly to brush your comment off. Not quite believing your question.

"How much are you paid?" You repeated firmly, arms crossed.

"Four pounds, why does it matter?"

"Four?!" You gasped, for a musician as talented as Taehyun seemed like, he was very underpaid. "Isn’t that underpaying?"

"Yeah, but I manage. Tips also help."

"I’ll pay you. And more if that means you’ll come to dinner. Take it as an extra token for my gratitude." You declared, almost triumphant for having a ‘solution’ per se.

"I don’t want your money, Y/N." Taehyun frowned, politely refusing your request. "Seriously."

"Then come to dinner with me! It’s just one night. Plus, I doubt I’ll be free to have dinner like this again." You pressed.

"Fine, but no money. I don’t need your money." Taehyun sighed in reluctance, almost worn down. "You won’t take a no for an answer either way, will you?"

"Absolutely not." You grinned victoriously, checking your watch carefully. You had a little bit to get ready—and you should probably start too. Though you were unsure why you wanted to look so good, you shoved it aside as mere proper etiquette. "I’ll go get ready, then."

"Already? But it’s so early.." He trailed off, trying to answer his own question.

"It’s almost as if you haven’t talked to any ladies at all." You huffed out, already whirling around on your feet. "I’ll see you in a few, Taehyun."

"Well I—" Taehyun cut himself off, deciding against saying something he probably wouldn’t speak up about even if you insisted. "I’ll see you then, Y/N."

"I DON’T THINK THIS IS REALLY SAFE." Miyeon’s voice was a warning with a breach of curiosity all at once as she curled rivulets into your hair until the strands bounced and swirled into themselves. "Y/N, you know how Mr.Kim is. You could’ve just given him money."

"I know." There was a tinge of uneasiness beneath all of that excitement you showed up front, you were happy to treat Taehyun to dinner, but your stomach was still tied in queasy knots. "But I want to live for once. He saved me."

"You never told me how you met him." She hummed, flicking one warm, already done lock of hair above your shoulder carefully.

Moments like these seemed to solemnly remind you of your mother. While she was never a big fan of getting you all ready like this when you were little, she never quite seemed able to refuse your wide-eyed pleading look, always ending up getting you ‘looking like a princess’. Though, she had always been more fond of your natural, bare face. Deeming it was already beautiful enough.

You wondered what she would think about all of the events going on. Not only the heavy layers of makeup that made you almost not look like yourself, but also the fact you were going around with another man that wasn’t Mingyu. She was a rather free spirited woman from what you remembered about her own lady maids telling you as a kid, she either would be proud or have a heart attack. As the years flew by, she seemed to somewhat harden beneath expectations and reality within each birthday candle you blew.

"Have you ever felt like the only option in life was to vanish completely?" You questioned instead, posture now a bit too rigid.

"I do."

"Have you ever wanted to?"

"Plenty of times, more than you’d ever imagine." Miyeon agreed, her fingers still tender and careful. Nothing had changed—you were sure her fondness for you would still remain despite everything. "Your point being?"

"He saved me." Your mind couldn’t help but flicker back to that moment. Tender eyes and a careful, insistent and infuriatingly convincing voice. His hands, warm and shaky once he finally pulled you back up on the ship. "I wouldn’t be here had it not been for him. Isn’t that a reason enough to treat him to dinner?"

"I think you’re fond of him." Carefully, Miyeon laid it out. While you two seemed comfortable enough to share momentary secrets that would die on this ship, she was careful enough to not want to overstep on her part. "You could still have paid him a generous amount. If I may know, who is the man?"

She wasn’t wrong. Not really. You were married to Mingyu for a long while, knew his routine like the back of your hand and exactly how he liked his breakfast that he sometimes skipped because he was too much in a rush, even while he didn’t even know how you liked your coffee. Still, after all these years, you never felt like this towards him. Maybe in the beginning when you were still a bit naive, but that blossoming feeling wilted not long after your wedding vows.

You were never taught much about love, love to you was what your parents did and how they acted towards each other. They never bothered to really preach about love towards you aside from how it was duty, and the package of a sustainable and secure life would come along as a gift.

They were as unsure as you were when they promised your hand in marriage, a shot in the dark, if you will.

Mingyu wasn’t ideal, but he was everything the said ‘American Dream’ represented. Materialistic and full of gleaming jewels and twirling gowns at night, but it was hollow. A dream even people from outside of America chased, but you thought it wasn’t so worth it, after all.

"A violinist, he’s quite talented. His name is Taehyun." A smile that felt almost unprompted breached your lips, fingers reaching up to twirl around a curled piece of your hair. "But I’m just trying to repay his kindness, that is all."

"There isn’t anything wrong with it, you know." The words drifted into silence, but you still considered them. All of the bruises that marred your skin, every jewelry you were gifted as a mean for ‘forgiveness’

"I’ll never see him again after the ship docks." You agreed, but even if you started to acknowledge said fondness—you and Taehyun would go parted ways, that was a fact.

"Then enjoy yourself tonight, Y/N." Miyeon smiled—though genuine, there was pity. Pity, because you’d never be free, and pity because you were tied to Mingyu forever.

"Could I ask you one last favor?" As she finally finished curling your hair and applying the last touches of your makeup, carefully as always, you asked. You still needed someone to distract Mingyu if anything happened. "I need someone to.. distract Mingyu in case anything happens. You don’t happen to know a valet called Kai, do you?"

"I’ll talk to him. You don’t have to worry about anything else." The way Miyeon looked at you was almost motherly, in a way. The same way your mother looked at you when you were little, tucking your hair behind your ears. Her hands were careful, not only to not mess up your hair, but also to show tenderness. She cared for you, and for now, as your only confidant—Miyeon was all you had. "Go have fun, Y/N. Don’t hold back."

"Thank you." You choked out despite the slight sting of tears, head hanging low until Miyeon lifted it up by your chin and dabbed the brimming drops from your eyes. "Don’t cry, it’ll ruin your makeup. Now go, you have someone to meet up with."

You gave her one last glance of sheer thankfulness, then slipped through the door. There was a fluttering feeling on your stomach with each echoing clinking sound of your heels, dress now a little more simple than the gowns you wore slightly flapping around you in more loose parts. The first bell for dinner started to ring, you pushed the door open. Through crowds and clumps of people, you looked for him until you sat on a table by the bar you sat at last night while talking with Yeonjun.

You didn’t have to wait much, nor scan your eyes further along the sea of people inside the dining hall to catch his eyes. Taehyun stood there in a suit, the one he wore while playing. His hair neatly parted in the middle, a smile that was still slightly nervous on his lips as he slowly pushed through people to sit down next to you.

"You look.." Taehyun seemed to not really be able to find any words, none of them seemed fitting as he looked at you up and down.

"You too." You pursed your lips in a thin line of a smile, though the silence was heavy, you didn’t seem to mind it much.

"Not as much as you."

"You really do know how to compliment someone, don’t you?" You were slow to respond, lingering too much on the details of his face.

"I only say it because it’s true." Hiding the redness of your cheeks, you quickly reached for a glass of champagne, the bubbles and fizz tingling your tongue in a way that felt funny, yet still warm and familiar.

"First time being here? As just a passenger, I mean." Quickly changing the subject, you leaned further into your palm. People started settling further now, arrays of messy people now neatly organized into tables coated in fancy cutlery and sparkling glasses that were half empty. "Assuming you’re not allowed to really eat like an upper class man despite playing here."

"Yeah, but it doesn’t really faze me anymore. I’ve played enough to not be surprised by the grandeur. Everything is too much.. alike." He shrugged, when Taehyun’s eyes swept over the crowd and the room again, they were bored and unimpressed. You couldn’t blame him, though. The Titanic wasn’t all that dreamy as many people gushed and bragged about. Still, there was always many things to see.

"I don’t think so. I think there’s always something to see." Your finger then pointed towards a piece of furniture at the corner of the room. It was old, vintage and expensive, that was for sure. But it didn’t match the wallpaper on the wall nor did it match the design of the pillars that stood in the corner of the rooms. "The furniture doesn't always match, some details are really.. queer compared to others, you know?"

"Do you really pay attention to these things?" Taehyun blinked, more taken aback than weirded out.

"Who doesn’t?" A scoff that mingled with a laugh left you, shaking your head. "Anyone would."

"I didn’t. Though I’m not a man that pays much attention to details like these.. but I’ll give it to you, it’s impressive you have the eye for that."

"You really think so?"

"I do." In the background, the bell chimed once again. Dinner was served soon after, you went through two other glasses along your first one, the conversation never seemed to die. You asked Taehyun about all the ships he played in, the paintings and drawings he put so much effort in while he was younger. He smiled through all of the questions and replied to them curtly, allowing more room for your questions. He told you about all the drama he heard while aboard—how a woman had been proposed to while onboard and she found her husband in bed with another woman that same night.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to feel. Gasps left you without you stopping them, laughter with disbelief barely audible through the other voices that felt almost overstimulating. Taehyun was moreover focused on watching how you looked when you tipped your head back and laughed, or the shape your lips made when you dramatically gasped. You hadn’t really noticed despite being someone so keen with your eyes, even though he seemed completely enraptured by.. everything you were. How your posture eased from rigid to more relaxed, your accent that he once was tired of but now seemed to make your voice so pleasing, how you were easily excited.

By the time you reached your fourth glass of the drink, the alcohol seemed to press down on you. You felt a bit more funny than usual, but along with that, you felt a bit funny. A sigh of satisfaction left you as you took your last bite of dessert, but your questions also seemed to end.

"You look like you need some fresh air." Taehyun suggested carefully, already putting down his spoon.

"Well, it is a bit hot." You nodded mindlessly, chair scraping back as you stood once again. "I do hope you enjoyed your dinner."

"I did." Taehyun offered you a gentle smile, already by your side as you fell into a rhythm you two knew all too well by now. "Definitely better than sneaking food away."

"Had I known you did that, I’d have done this earlier." The cold air enveloped you upon stepping outside, it wasn’t this bad when you first arrived—but then again, the weather was always colder as the hours ticked by and as the moon hovered further up in the sky.

"That’s really kind of you, really." Taehyun mused as his words trailed into a slight hum, never missing the way you seemed to shiver on the spot at the cold wind hitting the bare skin of your arms. "Aren’t you cold?"

"Me? No, not at all. I’m completely fine." Despite your gritted teeth, you lied and forced a smile. "Unaffected."

Even then, Taehyun shrugged off his coat in a swift motion, draping it over your shoulders like he did yesterday. You pinched your brows together, surely, he had to be somewhat cold. "I don’t need it— won’t you be cold?"

"You’re a terrible liar, you know that?"

"I didn’t want to bother."

"You’re never a bother."

The silence that fell over was neither uncomfortable nor comfortable, just.. charged. Almost electrifying. The stars were far more visible now, high and twinkling in the sky. "You know, I was never really able to see the stars so well as I do now back in London."

"Really?" Though there was no surprise in his voice, Taehyun still made sure to sound interested. Not because he was forcing, but because truly he was interested in what you had to say. "They’re always bright around here."

It was different, almost weird. But not bad.

It felt warming to know someone cared.

"Do you know why?" You didn’t have an answer—you weren’t asking because you had one, but because you felt curious. Maybe he’d know.

"Less light pollution makes it easier to be seen. It’s why rural areas have so many stars." Soon enough, you two were nearing the dock. You stood near the railing, though this time you didn’t feel any urges to jump. Your fingers gripped the cold metal, skin rising with goosebumps in an almost numbing way. The water thrashed as aggressively as it did yesterday beneath you, but it didn’t feel intimidating anymore. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you really that unhappy being married to Mingyu?" The question had been hovering at the tip of Taehyun’s tongue for a while now. You stiffened for a moment, but Taehyun already knew so much.. What was the harm in opening up, at this point?

"Mother dear always taught me that marriage was about security and duty. I wasn’t that unhappy at first, but.." you swallowed hard, hands lingering and rubbing above where you were sure a bruise formed from the previous night.

"There you are!" A squeak left you at the booming voice, shattering the fragility of the moment as you and Taehyun turned around to find Beomgyu. You hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed, Beomgyu was already grinning stupid, probably drunk. The air sobered you up a little, but it did little to aid Beomgyu’s condition. "The prettiest lady of the moment and the best violinist, I’ve been looking for you two all over!"

You weren’t very upset about being interrupted, the bruises that littered your skin were still a topic that felt like salt rubbed on an open wound, so you took this opportunity and ran with it.

"And what’s the ship’s worst influence doing out here looking for us? Shouldn’t you be playing?"

"It’s past ten already, plus most of the others stayed. I’m not staying past my shift and missing the party." Beomgyu’s smile stretched wider, full of bad ideas. "I was wondering if you two would like to accompany me."

"Absolutely not—"

"We’d love to." You cut Taehyun off, glancing at him once almost pleadingly.

Taehyun’s head immediately snapped towards you, almost shocked rather than upset. "Have you even partied before?"

"No, but I’d love to." Your smile soon matched Beomgyu’s, who was already flushed from drinking. "Are you drunk?"

"Yeah, but if you’re not, you’ll want to be. This is a real party—not some fancy bullshit." Quickly, almost excitedly, Beomgyu pulled out a flask from within his pocket, handing it to you.

"Upper class parties aren’t that bad." You faked a frown, opening the flask and allowing the liquid to burn down your throat as you tipped your head back in a quick motion. You didn’t drink all of it—not being the biggest fan of whiskey, but it did its job.

Beomgyu snorted. "Sure, they’re not."

You answered him with a shrug, then, you extended the flask towards Taehyun, eyebrows raised in a challenge. "Are you coming?"

Taehyun, albeit not really unpleased, shook his head and took the flask—swallowing the rest of the drink and wrinkling his nose right after. "God, this is awful."

"It’s expensive! Got it from the bar, some guy lost it, I’m guessing." Beomgyu shrugged, full of protest. "Costs more than what we’re paid."

"Being expensive doesn’t make it any better." Taehyun’s downturned lips brought a giggle to your own, still, Taehyun pocketed the flask.

"Well, then let’s get going!" Beomgyu chirped, turning around and taking the lead.

You didn’t move, at least not immediately. Taehyun’s hand extended towards you, inviting. His eyes were as warm as they were when you first stumbled onto him, making your heart miss a beat. "Shall we?"

Wordlessly, your hand enveloped around his. Warm, slightly shaky, but still careful. You allowed yourself to savor the moment one beat longer, staring at your hands before trailing your eyes up to his. "Yes."

The sound ricocheted off of the walls before you even managed to reach the third class section, chaos and life felt completely overbearing and heavy within every changing detail of the room. The rhythm and beats were a sharp contrast to classical tunes, faster and enough to get excitement flushing your face than any kind of alcohol you could drink.

There was a stark, clear and notable difference in the care put into each section of the ship. With a glance you could easily tell that the furniture was more second hand and cheap, things you would never find in the upper sections.

There wasn’t any expensive clink of glass nor the expensive talk, but there was a loud sound of laughter and sloshing of beer in plastic, glass looking cups. Beomgyu and Taehyun moved around in steps that felt confident and familiar, yet Taehyun’s hand never let go of yours.

"You really meant it when you said this is a real party!" You exclaimed in sheer wonder, these parties weren’t bad per se, they felt completely freeing and far more exciting than the average one.

"Told you so." Beomgyu said cheekily, suddenly wrapping his arm around the neck of a taller man who was sitting down playing poker. It was the man from earlier today, Soobin. The one who had run off with Beomgyu. "I brought them!"

Soobin’s eyebrows shot up quickly, giving you an unashamed glance up and down. "She doesn’t look like she belongs here."

"Belonging isn’t anything in a party that welcomes all." Beomgyu shrugged, finally turning towards you and Taehyun. "Anyway, this is Soobin. Choi Soobin. You saw him earlier today, I’m sure?"

"Yeah, I remember him." You extended your hand politely, to which he shook. "Pleased to meet you."

"Enchantée." The words were smooth, followed by an up-tilt of his lips. The French didn’t fail to take you by surprise at all, though this party did welcome people from many cultures.

"You speak French?" Though your question never reached Soobin’s ear because of how loud everyone was being and because he turned back to the game, Taehyun cut in and answered you instead—his breath warm against your skin in a way goosebumps broke across it.

"He doesn’t, he just picks up whatever from the people he gambles with." Then he pointed towards a table Beomgyu had already claimed by plopping into a chair. "Come on."

Cards soon were spread across the table after being shuffled by skilled fingers, you weren’t too sure how to play because you were never necessarily taught. Your worries were always housework or things deemed feminine, not.. cards.

Still, Taehyun taught you. Cards faced down were slid to each player’s direction, each player taking turns to flip their first cards facing upwards. A lot of yelling made your ears ring and your veins buzz with excitement, the thrill of playing with so many people making you feel more alive than the burn of alcohol down your throat—though you were still drinking.

"Snap pot!—" left you competitively, a spirit you weren’t aware you had. The cards were finally all acquired, a victorious grin on your lips.

"There’s no way she wasn’t cheating!" Beomgyu complained, hand slamming down against the table.

"Maybe you just suck." Taehyun debated, raising his hand for you to give him a high five—he definitely looked proud.

Instead of a high five, your arms wrapped around him firmly. His heartbeat was strong and racing against your own chest, a stammer leaving his lips, but he still hugged you back. "Good job."

"Can you two stop being love birds and will you come dance?" Soobin shot as he dragged Beomgyu by the hand, who stumbled and knocked a glass of beer over.

"I don’t dance." Taehyun murmured, but just like Soobin had dragged Beomgyu, you took him by the hand and dragged him to dance.

It wasn’t like he was resisting much, anyway.

"Don’t knock it until you haven’t tried it." You insisted, it was already hot enough that beads of sweat started to break across your skin—running down the nape of your neck. You danced because Mingyu insisted you learn how to, even though you weren’t the best, it came in handy.

You allowed yourself to be lost in the rhythm of beats and ruffles and twirls of skirts, once tamed hair becoming wild with each pin flying out as you turned and breathlessly laughed. The room buzzed, and so did your body each time your hand held Taehyun’s. This dance had no true precision, it was a form of self expression. His eyes were bright with laughter, hands firm against your waist each time a twirl brought your front towards his chest. The heat of your conjoined bodies and the crowd all built up to a dizzying, intense feeling. But you couldn’t have been happier.

"I thought you didn’t dance?" You panted, hands raised in a clapping motion to the beat.

"I don’t, I mean—I’m trying." Taehyun’s shrug was quick, curt before he took your hand and used the impulse to spin you before pulling you in. Once up close again, the world seemed to freeze. Your eyes trailed to his lips, looking so soft and plump as he licked them. You wondered if Taehyun had ever kissed anyone. You hadn’t bothered to think about a person’s lips but your own before, you would be worried about lipstick shades more than anything really often. You wondered if they were as soft as they looked—

"You’re overheating, should we go outside?" Taehyun’s concerned inquiry cuts through your haze, making you slightly shake your head to snap out of it.

"Sorry, yeah, please let’s go." You answered quickly, already grabbing Taehyun’s poor, damp coat from alcohol that someone spilled from atop the chair it rested on, and following him outside. The once chilling wind was a comforting gust against your face, still, it was a bit uncomfortable.

"It should be nearly midnight." You panted, breathless as your breath stabilized.

Taehyun checked his watch, "You’re spot on."

For once, the world seemed to slow down to a moment meant to be yours for once. Every worry or burden you had previously carried seemed to fade away, disappearing from your mind within every conjoined step. The deck of the ship became a safe haven, even though it meant your death at first. Instead of leaning over the railing, this time you sat next to Taehyun on one of the benches. Tonight, the stars were hiding behind thick clouds that would indicate heavy rain throughout the night, maybe giving way to a sunny day tomorrow, a horrendously humid one, perhaps.

“You don’t need to be bound to him.” Taehyun hesitantly slipped, this time without any sort of hesitation. It was like he had given up as soon as he grasped your uncertainty. “You should be free. You could live and experience so much more, and yet you’re still choosing to stay bound to him.”

“Where else would I go?” The question sat heavy, because the truth was that Taehyun wouldn’t be able to provide for you as much as he’d like to. He played in ships, was constantly moving, and staying onboard alone was sort of a struggle for survival– eating scraps of food that the rich deemed decent enough for them to eat. “I don’t have anyone. My parents won’t take me back in, I don’t have any attributes of a worker, Taehyun.”

“You could stay with me. We could travel, see the world. I’ll play, you can stay in the parties beneath and I’ll join you.” You weren’t so sure about it, nor was Taehyun. He knew you weren’t made for this, you were made for greatness. You deserved more than the life he lived, but you didn’t deserve luxury and violence.

You were very familiar with being and feeling conflicted, growing up out of childhood opened your eyes up slowly. You remembered your neighbor, she had stayed for a long time. Maybe until you were eleven. She was a noble of sorts, a very rich woman who lived adorned and swimming in pearls that cost bruises no one saw. Your parents told you to avoid the windows at night, but as you grew, so did your curiosity. One night, you had seen her husband beating her. Your heart stopped right there and then, watching blood seep down her nose and tainting the purity of the once pristine pearls, only for her husband to hand her flowers as an apology. It was sickening, the look of fear and sheer dread in her eyes.

Her name, you recalled faintly, was Melody. One of the nights where you waited by the window, you could see her silhouette moving, carrying a suitcase that dragged silently behind her as she stepped out on the street, scarves covering her face and clothes a heavy contrast to what she would normally wear. She caught your eye properly for once, one of them a shade of red that bordered on purple, bloodshot and swollen. She shook her head and brought a finger to her lips, you couldn’t understand it well back then. She had asked you to not tell anyone about her running away, but she was leaving all of her money and belongings behind–or at least most of them.

Mother dear would always explain to you how no matter what, wealth and stability came first. She had shown you before how the third life class or life below third class was dirty. The older you grew, the harsher her words became. Lazy, dirty civilians who did this to themselves. She had looked at you with hopefulness and a smile as she tucked your hair behind your ear despite your wet cheeks and teary eyes. “But you won’t do this, will you? you will grow and live a life full of wealth, just like mommy is living.”

Back then, you couldn’t see anything beyond the promise of stability and a well-made future. Why she was running away, or why she had looked at you so pleadingly. However, now you understood.

“He won’t let me go.” You shook your head in denial, you knew Mingyu didn’t care. He just treated you like this because you were his to possess. He could easily toss you away if you wanted to leave and find someone else, but you were scared to leave. “He’ll ruin everything for you, and for me. It’s better not to.”

“Are you just saying that because you’re scared of what you’ll find out of your comfort zone?” The words were testing, whenever this topic came around, they always seemed to be. Especially because you were so easy to recoil whenever it came. You tensed, closed your eyes in slight resignation, and Taehyun knew he hit the bullseye. But he didn’t push.

He wanted to hear it from you.

“I haven’t seen anything out of my own world, Taehyun. I don’t belong anywhere else, I can’t. I can barely understand certain topics or do certain things–”

“Then I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you how to live, and not just survive, live intensely. Whatever you want to learn, I’ll try my best. What is worth all of your wealth if every diamond costs a tear?” Taehyun’s eyes were frantic, his gesturing hands slowly smacking softly against his thighs after the words stopped tumbling out. “Y/N, you deserve great things, I’m not saying you don’t. But is your life something you’ll look back at in the future and be happy about?”

Your head was shaking before fully processing his words, because deep down, you knew it was true. Since Melody had given you those pleading eyes, since Winter first appeared in front of you with a bleeding lip and red lipstick that barely concealed it but you pretended not to notice because your own skin was bruised. There was much more to life than whatever sickening illusion of safety you were living.

“Then get off with me. When this ship boards, get off with me.” A plea, not even a forcing question. This wasn’t about what Taehyun wanted, because he was giving you the choice to leave or stay.

You really wanted to leave. But there was still the lingering doubt in the back of your mind, that one what-if that always nagged you each time a chance to escape towards a better life showed up. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“I’ll make it work.”

“Taehyun, I–”

You couldn’t miss the firmness of his hands as each of them ended up on either side of your face, this time, he refused to look away. Your heart picked up the pace without permission, barely realizing your lips parting as Taehyun’s eyes momentarily dipped down to look at them, only to look back up. “You don’t have to be scared. Not of leaving him, nor of leaving. I’m not forcing you, but if you want to really live, then come with me.”

If you want to. It had been a long while since you were given options, you rarely had the luxury of being offered those. He’s watching you with an intensity enough to make you squirm, but not the intimidating or overbearing kind. It was a soft and pleading kind, one that slowly crumbled your resolve even as he fell silent and asked you to come with him with the glimmer in the eyes you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by.

You were always a bit of a coward when it came to escaping.

“I can’t. I have to go.” You stood quickly, already shrugging off his jacket with a tight throat. Taehyun never tried to stop you, but this time, his fingers wrapped firmly around your wrist before you could dart off.

The plan, Taehyun’s plan, was to pull you against him. The Titanic, however, seemed to have other plans. The tug and sway of the ship made you lose your footing, next came the plush, somewhat cracked warmth of Taehyun’s lips. Yet, neither of you seemed to want to move away. You didn’t particularly want to pull away from this, the fear you felt before was almost.. subsided.

The initial shock wore off in a matter of seconds, Taehyun’s hands moved hesitantly to pull you closer. Despite how hard your heart was beating, you still wrapped your arms around his neck. It felt like sparks–a tiny one that ignited, but it also felt like fireworks. Leaving a humming, strong buzz throughout your veins. And you didn’t feel fear, at least for a fraction of time where safety felt like his lips moving against yours.

Still, it kept going. It felt as if it had been hours rather than seconds, a mere illusion of your brain trying to cling onto the moment. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to stay aware merely of the fact you really wanted to leave this ship hand in hand with the man who played beautifully and in exchange acquired calloused yet gentle fingertips.

When you two finally pulled away, your breath caught before releasing. Taehyun was smiling at you, hand running through your hair before cupping and lingering on your jaw. “There’s no pressure, I promise you. You only come with me if you want to.”

You nodded, hands trembling as they moved to grasp onto his shoulders, to finally let go. “Goodnight, Taehyun.”

Your heart was still beating hard, your throat was dry, but you felt alive and aching.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You could still see Taehyun smiling rather dumbly by the time you turned around, he lingered as your footsteps faded. Each movement forward despite your protesting heart welcomed you towards the rich laughter of the people of your class.

Your eyebrows pinched together, trying to place together your feelings like cracks of a missing puzzle–initially, you were rather uncaring, almost curious and a little apathetic about Taehyun. But maybe, deep down, that curiosity was just your heart begging for a key towards freedom.

Your lips tingled, you sighed at the loss of Taehyun’s lips against yours. Your skin was still alive and humming like the strings of the violin he played where his hands had been.

The ship drowned into silence and wuthering waves as you reached your suite, the click of the door opening and silently creaking shattering the illusion of the moment you wanted to drown in forever. You were still a little tipsy from all the alcohol that coursed from your system, eyes searching for Miyeon who should still be waiting for you, like you had requested.

“You seem very happy.” Normally, you would smile and agree with Miyeon. But it wasn’t Miyeon, the voice was masculine and raspy, neutral. It made you pause, shaking you to the core.

Miyeon was in the room, just wide eyed and terrified with what looked like a red mark across her face. You didn’t look at her, nor did you blame her. Miyeon had always been cautious and willing to help, this couldn’t have been her fault.

“I was having a good time with my friend.” You forced the words out, trying to, for once, stand up for yourself. Despite the hollow, aching sense of unease, you stepped forward. You had learned to push it all down each time strong knuckles met your skin and bones, but never once to look back into Mingyu’s eyes and retort–to debate like you were a man.

“I’m not stupid.” Mingyu laid out, cracking the silence pressed between the two of you. The clink of ice against the class of what looked like vodka was louder than your breathing. “Is that what you think I am, Y/N?”

“No–I don’t–” You stuttered, breath going shallow.

“You’re treating me though as I am.” His words were sharper, far more dangerous as he circled you. “You’re a big piece of work, aren’t you? Sneaking around behind my back, having that man.. who was it again? Choi Yeonjun? Play a good old friend?”

Your throat seized, you shook your head because you couldn’t get anything else out. “Listen, I can explain–”

Your scalp burned before you could finish speaking, hands tugging at the strands, you swore Mingyu was about to rip your scalp out. Tears blurred the corners of your eyes, your eyes meeting his as he pressed the back of your head to his shoulder. Your expression was pained, his was angry. Not the one he often showed, but fury. It was a dangerous cocktail, and his emotions were bordering on animalistic. “Throwing yourself around with that–peasant.” He spat.

You knew who he meant. A peasant to him, was a man like Taehyun. But Taehyun was an honest man, far kinder than Mingyu had ever been to you. “He’s not a peasant.”

“I don’t care what you think, have I ever said I did?” With a quick motion, he slammed your shoulder against the bed as he shoved you down. “Clearly you don’t know that enough. Is it fun for you to whore around and taint my name?”

Your shoulder ached, but what seemed to burn more inside of you were your urges to run. To be wrapped around Taehyun’s arms and get away from this. The edge of Mingyu’s shoe collided with your side, then on your stomach. A groan of pain left you, body twisting while you tried to find a position good enough to receive less of a blow. But you knew this was only the beginning of it.

“You’re mine.” He spat, literally and not literally. It was wet, humiliating against the skin of your cheek. You felt more like an insect than his wife. You pressed your nails into your palms, nails digging so sharp you felt something warm trickle down your skin. Blood, you didn’t need to see or smell to know. “When your parents sold you to me, you knew what this meant. What do you think people will think of me? That I have a slut for a wife?”

The way he kneeled down next to you felt slightly merciful, gripping your chin harshly despite the action seeming tender. You shook your head, the tears you were trying so hard to hold breaking across your cheeks. “If you want to stay, which you will, I expect obedience from you.”

His knuckles inflicted quick, hot pain on your skin. You were sure your eye was going to bruise, leaving you lightheaded and forcing air too quickly out of your lungs. You couldn’t hold it back anymore, not with the repeated pain that appeared in more places than just one. “I’m doing this for your own good.”

Maybe it had been a long time, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t hear the clock ticking seconds and minutes anymore, nor Miyeon’s muffled cries. Your hearing was as if you had drowned to begin with, maybe this was what the sharp curved gull of the ship felt like.

You couldn’t move by the time Mingyu grabbed his glass and left the room. A picture rattling on the wall and shattering on the ground as sharp as the weight of your choices as the door slammed shut behind the man. Miyeon accessed you as soon as she could, her hands shaky and quick as she tried to wipe blood away from your face.

“I’m so sorry, Kai lost him when he left the room–Mr.Choi was drunk out of his mind to keep Mr.Kim away.” Miyeon spluttered out, already reaching for iodine and cloth to soothe the throb of your open wounds.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” You managed a smile out despite it all, sitting up despite the great effort that it took to move your heaving limbs. “You tried your best.”

“Y/N.” Miyeon murmured, wiping her tears as she started to dab the cloth on your most serious wounds, making you wince. “You have to get out.”

“I can’t. He’ll kill me.” Taehyun had offered you an escape, the ship would dock the day after tomorrow, but you were sure Mingyu would find you again. You couldn’t escape him.

“He’ll kill you one way or another.” Miyeon’s voice raised, not out of rage but out of desperation. It made you pause, try to open one of your swollen eyes to look at her. “Damn it, Y/N. Do you want him to kill you while you’re trying to taste freedom or while being stuck like a porcelain doll for him to bruise and mistreat? Go live–fall in love, go with that musician if you want to. Just live somehow. This isn’t living, it’s surviving.”

Miyeon’s words landed a blow on you harsher than Mingyu’s punches, your words died on your tongue because you knew she was right. It wasn’t like anything had changed, you knew what choices were, and you knew the cost of each one. You sat stiffly, but you knew this choice wasn’t something you could avoid anymore. If you didn’t leave now, with the choice presented to you, you would never leave.

“I’ll cover for you. Just–leave tomorrow.”

“He’ll hurt you.” You gestured towards her bruised cheek. “More than he did today.”

“I know. But he won’t kill me, I’m not his property like he says you are.” Miyeon smiled.

For the rest of the time, she was tending to your wounds. You had nothing else to speak about, at least not with the impending plan you had to look forward to. When she was done, she ran you a bath and left a folded, comfortable pair of pajamas for you to change into. When the water stopped running and it drowned inside the bathtub, you changed and fell into the duvet of the bed that spoke of stability and comfort. But now, stability and comfort was nothing if it came with a split lip and bloody nose. You didn’t try to enjoy it one last time because you didn’t want to have any more possible ties with this world, you wanted to have a taste of the life Taehyun led.

So then, for the second night, your eyes fluttered shut. No more dread of waking up followed you, rather, you looked forward to leaving as soon as you woke up. Not to smile at men and women you rarely knew.

YOU HAD ALWAYS KNOWN that leaving was easier than leaving everything behind, the enveloping comfort of your layering blankets were the first thing you felt as you woke up. You didn’t immediately open your eyes, instead, you stayed unmoving in bed.

This time, waking up felt more liberating than tiring. Ever since you set foot on the Titanic, keeping up your act with Mingyu started to feel more of a burden than just being scared of not being the perfect wife. Before, things had been easier. Acting was easier. Mingyu would be busy closing up affairs and being in meetings, you would be busy waltzing around with the suffocating veil covering your face as you spent his money to convince yourself you could handle his treatment further. The time you two spent together was always curt, something you could easily tolerate. But now, it was so much that it felt suffocated.

You couldn’t exactly just escape, not unless he was smoking and gambling with his friends. Mornings and meals where husband and wife normally chatted about life were tense and unbearable, the more you were in his presence, your distaste for him grew. Just as much as the urge to run was.

Plus, Mingyu had to be the most boring, simple rich man you had ever known. He followed conformity like it was his religion, used you like his life depended on it.

You were sure you knew Taehyun for less than three days–maybe around two and a couple of hours.

But you wanted him.

You wanted to wake up next to Taehyun, to bask in his warmth and watch his lips curve in a smile as his sleep-filled eyes lingered onto yours. You wouldn’t be rich, not rich enough to parade in gowns and expensive heels and layers upon layers of makeup, obviously. But having hands that touched you with love rather than with rage made you richer than Mingyu was. There is no use of being rich if your heart is rotten and dull.

And the worse part is that you didn’t kiss Taehyun because you were drunk or desperate, because even with no alcohol buzzing through every fiber of your being until your cheeks flushed, you wanted your lips to clash again. You wanted for your kisses to last just a little longer.

It wasn’t just a kiss, nor was it something that stemmed from your loneliness, it was overwhelming and enough to make your feet move to their own accord.

Miyeon didn’t wake you up despite the fact that it was past nine, she just stood there and waited as you changed. You barely glanced at the new veil on the nightstand, nor did you hesitate near the vanity to get yourself pampered and ready. Your dress was simple, your shoes were flats with socks you didn’t bother to take off.

Running down the ship, a door from the hallway of fancy bedrooms swung open. You had only a moment to catch a glimpse of the silhouette stepping out, and though you didn’t stop frantically running, the person called out after you anyways. “Y/N! Why the rush?”

You hadn’t seen Yeonjun for a little while now, weirdly enough, the man wasn’t even at the lower class party last night. Yeonjun was certainly a widely known man by everyone aboard, charismatic and always looking for a thrill. He wasn’t the kind of person you’d be awkward to socialize with, plus–you couldn’t lie, he was particularly handsome and single. Sometimes, whenever you gave yourself the luxury to walk alone without anyone interrupting your peace or whenever you weren’t with Taehyun, you would hear the giggles and dreamy whispers of girls talking about the man.

This morning, however, things were completely different. It wasn’t just by how Yeonjun’s voice sounded rougher than usual. Well, you would guess it’s the amount of screaming and alcohol he’d done while gambling, but turning around, Yeonjun looked almost like a completely different man from the charming guy with a cunning glint in his eyes. His hair was disheveled, a contrast to the carefully gel-styled hairstyles he wore. Bright eyes were dulled and shadowed with fatigue, the worse part is that without any makeup to conceal it, purple blotches and bruises marred his face. One on his left eye matched the one that you also had. You wouldn’t take someone like Yeonjun for a fighter, he had a way with words that could talk him out of most situations.

You weren’t sure if he was grimacing or fuming at the way your face was bruised as well, something in his face shifted, his jaw seemed to clench further. It was enough to make you stop in your tracks, to listen to anything he might have to say. But nothing came out, nothing but the mere uncomfortable silence. “What happened to you?” Was all you managed out, eyebrows pinched together in a motion that spoke of not only concern but curiosity. Why would a man so loved by everyone get into a fight?

“Wanna take a wild guess?” Yeonjun snorted, hands motioning for you to walk closer as he glanced around with wary eyes, as if he was waiting for someone or something to leap out of hiding at any moment. Then, he welcomed you into his suite.

Stepping inside made you realize how bland the creativity of the designers of the Titanic were, it was disappointing to find that Yeonjun’s own quarters were the same as yours. The same queer mismatch of patterns that most would consider chic, duvets everywhere, same furniture.. Though it was slightly bigger, you really would’ve guessed that maybe the rooms would have some diversity.

Seems like they don’t. The ship was designed to rip off money from everyone, and ironically those who put in the work for the ship refused to spend more to design bedrooms differently. It was laughable, really.

“Your husband is a piece of work, Y/N.” Yeonjun’s hand shot up to the bridge of his nose, pinching in annoyance. His eyes belied his actions, pity mixing with undeniable frustration. “Seems he didn’t let you off easily either.”

“He hit you?” The idea was almost unbelievable to you. Yeonjun probably had done nothing wrong to Mingyu in the first place, plus, Yeonjun worked under the same company as him. Though he was technically beneath Mingyu, you had never seen him step over the line of getting into a physical array with someone who meant to be his coworker. “Why? What happened?”

“His valet had his eyes set on you, that’s what happened.”

“You mean Eunwoo?”

“Whatever his name is, yeah. We were.. doing just fine. Gambling, drinking.” Yeonjun released a tense breath, clearly displeased at having to recall the events. “His valet came up to him and mentioned something about Taehyun and you and a party, then–another valet, Kai? Tried to play it off and say it was a misunderstanding. Obviously, I knew it wasn’t.”

“You did? How did you–”

“Listen, Kai was hovering nearby all the time. And you and Taehyun aren’t particularly sneaky or secret about walking around together to just ‘talk’. Either way, that obviously made Mr. Kim snap, and he was getting ready to go after you. I tried to stop him, that’s all.”

“You didn’t have to do all that–I mean, look at you now, Yeonjun!” You protested, eyes glancing over at every bruise that covered the expanse of his skin. “Why would you do all of that? I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly, you can’t. You’re no better than me right now, are you?” Despite the sharpness in his voice, his question was still poised lightly. “Someone will love you better than this, Y/N.”

You didn’t meet his eyes, because you knew that he was right and you knew what he was doing. Yeonjun wasn’t stupid, if anything, he was stupidly analytical, too much for your own liking.

Now looking back into last night, something that you hadn’t realized finally dawned upon you. Yeonjun and most of the people you knew were really trying to just.. get you out. Last night, you hadn’t processed in the haze of horror and dim lights that Mingyu’s face was equally just as bruised as Yeonjun’s face. Maybe that was why he was extra spiteful when it came to dealing with you.

Mingyu never really liked losing, you had seen it from when he was gambling down to when he lost a very important deal that would have taken him from rich to even richer. He was a proud man, one that protected his ego far more than he protected his own wife. Now, him talking about you meeting other men never made more sense to you. It was more than you just being property, it was his reputation and his wounded ego. You found someone better than him.

“I’m leaving.” You spun towards the door, heart hammering in your eardrums as you reached out for the doorhandle.

“Wait.” Yeonjun called out after you, reaching for your arm and holding you in place as gently as he could. He didn’t know the extent of your bruises, after all. “Just.. hear me out.”

With a burning heart and equally burning cheeks and eyes, you turned around with coiled shoulders, voice strained. “What?”

Yeonjun smiled at you, shaking his head. “If you love Taehyun, go with it. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something better for yourself.” Then a pause, he let go of your arm. “Don’t let a man like Mingyu conceal your beauty and freedom with a veil ever again.”

The tears fell silently, quite frankly, you were already tired of crying. But the tears felt freeing, tears that were suppressed for years over ovens and polished smiles. Tears that you hid beneath the carpet of being a perfectly happy wife.

“Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.” You managed out despite the lump forming in your throat, which you successfully swallowed down. “Just.. thank you.”

“Of course.” Yeonjun gave you one last lingering smile, then, he was back to his usual self. Plopping down on the bed with his hand motioning for you to get out. “Always happy to help a friend. Now go, I’m not the right man you should be with.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, knuckles from your indicator finger wiping away the tears that fell still. You nodded quickly, messy curls from last night bouncing everywhere before you shut the door and left.

The morning was hazy still, people were still rousing from their slumber in sighs and already irritated chatters in some cabins. You would guess it was around eight in the morning, ten would already be full of bustling people and then you wouldn’t be able to catch Taehyun. You recalled faintly about him saying his morning shifts started around ten in the morning, it was why you quickened your pace, steps hitting and thudding against your feet as you flew down the stairs towards the third class. Some people were already awake here, too. Most of them were, considering the third class passengers were fed earlier on in the day.

“Excuse me,” Your hand wrapped around a woman’s shoulder, who didn’t turn around at first. “Have you seen a man called Taehyun?” “I’m sorry, I–” The voice was weirdly familiar, but your curiosity was sated as soon as the woman turned around. It was Winter, a healing black bruise beneath her eye, slightly faded and taken care of. Your lips parted in a gasp, letting go of her as if her skin burned. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

She looked startled–but your face mirrored hers in an equally startled way. It explained the way you hadn’t seen Winter in a good while, not even after Mingyu’s party. Had she been hiding away here all this time? Despite the initial shock, you stuttered to get your words to finally leave you properly. There wasn’t a reason to lie to Winter, she understood your world better than anyone would because she lived in it, just with a different man. “I’m leaving. What are you doing here? Have you been here all this time?”

Winter nodded, looking embarrassed until she heard you. You and Winter understood each other well, but not only that, you both longed for the same thing. Freedom. Actual love. “I have. At least for a while–they’ve been keeping me hidden here.”

“You’re leaving too?”

“Yes.” She nodded, now more firmly. “So are you.”

You nodded silently, allowing yourself to hope for an answer now that she knew. “Have you seen him?”

“Taehyun the violinist? He normally stays in the smoking room before leaving.” Winter pointed towards the end of the hallway, a door peered slightly open with freckles of sunlight floating out of it. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” You lingered for a moment once Winter gave you a smile, the familiarity of it would soon be forgotten. It was very likely it was now that you both went a separate pathway, and equally just as likely that you would never see her ever again. You wished her the best, but something about not seeing her ever again tugged at your heart. But freedom came with a cost. “Good luck to you too.”

One last solemn nod was all it took before she left, and you resumed your path towards the smoking room. The door opened with a creak louder than the ones from the upper class rooms, and like expected, Taehyun was there. Cigarette between his lips, the sunlight caressed his features while some parts remained obscured. His eyes flickered towards you wordlessly, but with expectancy.

“I want to get out of this ship with you.” You drew a breath in, looking down at the ground as if trying to find strength from anywhere but Taehyun’s face. Yet, that didn’t last long. You stepped forward, facing your own discomfort at the thought of leaving. “Tomorrow when it docks, I want to leave with you. Not with Mingyu. Show me the world, your art–teach me things. Just get me out.”

“You’re not joking?” Taehyun looked almost as if he was daring himself to ask, a woman from a world so far away from his own coming with him by her own will was almost unheard of, and yet, here you were.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

“You know you won’t change your mind no matter what I say.” Taehyun shrugged, tugging a smile out of you that urged you to wrap your arms around him in a hug.

“Probably won’t.” You agreed airily.

The next moment, you pulled away from him. Hands on either side of his cheeks, you pulled him in for a hasty, desperate kiss. The desperate collision of his lips against yours that you had been craving since you two parted last night coiled hot on your gut, sparks flying like fireworks inside your brain. Taehyun was no less desperate, hands roaming everywhere until they could finally settle on your hips, keeping a white-knuckled grip. It was unsure who wanted to eat each other, both on the same intensity.

When you pulled away, your chest heaved with the lack of air. Erratic, your heartbeat thrummed heavily between your ears. You didn’t give yourself nor Taehyun much time to breathe, already pulling him in for another kiss. This is how you wanted to go–you thought. Safe and in Taehyun’s arms, a groan rumbling from the back of his throat only to be muffled against your lips. The cheap couch behind you creaked once Taehyun pushed you against it, lips hastily moving from your lips down to your jaw, sucking marks on the expanse of your neck. Breathy noises left you, attempting to stay as quiet as you could. “They’ll hear us.” “Everyone’s busy having breakfast.” Taehyun reassured, teeth grazing your skin before he pulled back with his chest rapidly falling and rising, even though he was struggling to take a proper breath in, he didn’t seem to want to pull away.

“Aren’t you going to eat? You’ll end up missing breakfast and all..” You trailed off, eyes lingering on the door before his hand turned your face towards him once more.

“I think I’m perfectly fine over here.” Taehyun murmured, fingers trailing details on your face like you were art to be appreciated. The bruises he hadn’t addressed earlier, but undoubtedly had seen, now had his full attention. His tongue met the roof of his mouth, a displeased sound leaving him alongside a frown. “A man like him should know better than to taint perfection.”

“I’m not perfect–these will fade with time.” You debated, yet even then, Taehyun’s words shot a warm feeling down your core. You weren’t sure when was the last time someone called you things like this while meaning it, not just out of pure flattery.

Taehyun looked like he meant all of this and more.

“Yes, you are.” Taehyun protested, making your doubt die on your lips as his lips met yours again. You allowed yourself to go boneless with every movement of Taehyun’s hands on your body, unzipping your dress from the side, thin straps sliding down your shoulders–only breaking away to pull the dress above your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor of the vast room. Your hands were trembling, and Taehyun’s pupils practically blew once his eyes landed on you. Bare aside from your underwear, pliant and his without a doubt.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” Taehyun was almost focused, a little too much, as his hesitating hands hovered above your body like he wanted to touch but couldn’t.

“You’ve seen plenty of naked women, I’m sure there are more gorgeous ones.” You squirmed beneath his heated gaze, Taehyun shook his head. “You can touch me, you know..”

You really tried to make yourself seem less desperate than you actually were, but you were sure Taehyun could easily catch a glimpse of your wet panties from where he was on top of you. Granted, one of his hands went towards one of your boobs, warm against your skin as you took in a sharp breath. Taehyun wanted to memorize this, and it looked like he wanted to seal this moment into his mind over and over again. “No. Out of all the women I’ve painted, you’re the most gorgeous one I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah?” You bit your lip, eyes looking up at him all wide and almost innocent–it did something to him, and you knew it. But at this rate, you really just wanted him to touch you. “Taehyun, I want you to paint me like I’m one of your French girls.” You batted your eyelashes, lips parted in audible breathing.

How could Taehyun say no to this? to you?

“You don’t know what the hell you’re doing to me.” Taehyun rasped out, hands stilling on your body. “Fuck, are you sure?”

“You’re an artist, aren’t you?” You tilted your head, eyes pleading. “I’m serious.”

“Can you wait here?” Taehyun was already hastily standing up, throat dry and hands jittery as he walked towards the door. You nodded jerkily, the clock ticking on the wall only serving to rile up your nervousness. Anyone could walk in on you naked, that would definitely be embarrasing–but for once, you allowed yourself to fully trust someone. To trust Taehyun, too. Soon enough, he was walking through the door and pushing a chair against the handle, holding a worn out bag with charcoal stains and a scroll of paper. There was a notebook, presumably the one where he took the sheet from, resting beneath the paper for support. Then he sat down right in front of you, glancing upwards. “Ready?”

You nodded, shifting into a proper position. Your hand rested near your forehead, free arm bent above your head and grabbing the top of the couch, fingers wrapped against the curved wood. The room fell into comfortable silence, save for Taehyun’s fingers brushing charcoal against paper within every glance he gave to your naked body. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, tongue poking between his lips and a sheen layer of slight sweat forming on his brow. Your body numbed down, eventually. But you stayed put, giving Taehyun time to work.

You hadn’t ever seen the particular liking towards nude painting, not until you had the man you fell in love with in such a short time giving you heated glances as he captured your features on paper. Every glance made your heart beat quicker, the heat between your legs pulsing. Taehyun wasn’t any better, from where you rested, you could see the strain on his pants. He was hard–incredibly so. You really wanted for him to just take you, but you were more patient than most people gave you credit for.

“I thought nude artists didn’t get.. hard painting their clients.” You hummed out, glancing at the obvious bulge. Taehyun didn’t avert his gaze, he was never the type to do so. “Or is that just because it’s me you’re painting?”

“Just you.” Taehyun confirmed, biting down his bottom lip. “Wish you were in my shoes to see how you look right now.”

“And how do I look, Tyun?”

Something was slowly cracking inside Taehyun, you could tell. He huffed out an amused laughter, gripping the charcoal tighter between his fingers as he forced himself to keep painting. “Like pure sin. You don’t want to know the things I want to do to you right now.”

“Then why don’t you tell me?”

“I’ve always been more of a show not tell kind of guy.” Taehyun murmured, fingers trailing off into soft sketching sounds until he set the charcoal down and didn’t pick it up again. It was when you gave yourself the freedom of standing and stretching your sore, numb body. Footsteps silent on the cold floor as you appeared behind him. Taehyun wasn’t joking. He really could paint. The shock was visible on your face, eyes wide as you saw a perfect, drawn out replica of yourself stare right back at you. He didn’t just capture your face–no, he captured your essence. From the haziness and want in your eyes down to every curve of your body.

“Jesus Christ, Taehyun.” You breathed out, reaching out to map the lines of charcoal.

“Do you like it?” Taehyun tilted his head, meeting your glance sideways. His voice was expectant, like he thought he wasn’t good at this at all when he was. You both weren’t sure when you started to make each other nervous.

“If I like it?” You laughed in disbelief, never being able to take your eyes off of the drawing. “Taehyun, I don’t like it. I love it. You–captured me down to the bone.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled, setting the paper scroll down on a table. Then, he turned towards you with a question full of need, one you couldn’t possibly deny him of. “Can I have you now?”

You replied wordlessly, a hum halfway cut down as you leaned in for another kiss. This time, there was no hesitation. No fear, no feeling in the back of your head telling you that Eunwoo or Mingyu would catch you and give you a fresh new layer of hell marred across your skin. It was all about Taehyun’s hands, now dirty but no longer hesitant, settling on your ass, pulling you down on his lap.

A moan left your lips, your front directly placed above the bulge on Taehyun’s pants. He was big, you could tell he was. Even then, you couldn’t care less about size when every bit of you wanted Taehyun. He bit down on your bottom lip, enough to make your lips part, seizing the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth. He was driving you insane, especially with his hands that wouldn’t settle down in just one place anymore.

You rolled your hips down, so needy and already needing his touch more and more. A whimper left you at the friction, the fabric of his pants rubbing deliciously against your soaked panties. A grunt left him at the same time a whimper left your own lips. His lips detached from yours to trail down to your chest, peppering the skin in kisses before his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Your head tipped back, eyes screwing close in pleasure. Again, you rolled down your hips, chasing some kind of pleasure.

His breath on your skin made goosebumps break across it, your hands almost moving with mind of their own as they got rid of Taehyun’s blazer, clothes being strewn everywhere on the floor shamelessly.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Taehyun panted out, eyes still worshipful each time they raked over your body.

“No,” You shook your head even if you were acutely aware, but you wanted to hear it from him–No, you wanted him to show it. “But you said you’re more of a show rather than tell guy.”

You were back on the same couch Taehyun had you posing in for so long while painting you, this time, not to pose. His hands were on the waistband of your panties, sliding them down with something almost like impatience. He was out of his own pants and boxers right after, kneeling between your legs. From where you were lying down, you could finally catch a glimpse of his dick. It nearly knocked air from your lungs–he was big, probably bigger than Mingyu, whom you didn’t have much sex with despite being married to him.

“Taehyun I don’t think–” You started, the question cut halfway by his lips momentarily pressed against your lips. Taehyun was almost reverent with how he was moving, careful as to not hurt you in any way.

“I’ll go slow. Do you trust me?”

You nodded despite the initial nervousness, lip caught between your teeth.

“Good.” He hummed, watching your half-lidded gaze trail down alongside his hands, fingertips brushing against your pussy, tracing the lines of the lips in a way that had you squirming underneath him, and granted, his other hand gripped your hip to settle you down in place. Before you could complain in frustration, Taehyun’s thumb finally met your clit, pressing down before rubbing it in slow circles, watching your face morph from frustrated to contorting with pleasure. “Shit.. you’re this wet for me already, sweetheart?”

The numb ache between your legs became more noticeable, moans slipping past your lips in a sweet harmony with each rub of his thumb, then, he slid in a finger–followed by a second one. Pleasure spiraled inside your brain, because truly, you hadn’t ever gotten this wet before, at least with Mingyu. Every time you made the unfortunate decision of accepting having sex with him, it was unpleasant and awkward. He complained outwardly your face while grabbing his coat, probably to go find another woman to fuck, while you debated on your life decisions.

The nickname did little to your frayed nerves, alight with pleasure. You clenched around his fingers, eyes rolling back before they closed once again.

Not this time, though. The pleasure was overwhelming in the best way, crashing over you as your arm gripped one of Taehyun’s biceps, soft gasps and moans leaving you unashamedly, the sounds of footsteps above your head drowning out your own noises partially as people chatted and rose to life.

“Taehyun–oh, fuck,” You whined, head thrown back as his fingers rammed a specific spot in front of you that made you quiver, legs closing around his hand, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.

And Taehyun? He was dumbfounded. Eyes set on every flicker of reaction, each time your lips parted to chant his name like a prayer, the squelch of your pussy fluttering around his fingers bouncing off of the walls deliciously. You weren’t aware that sex could feel this good–but Taehyun looked like he could really just get off easily to your reactions.

“Yeah? Feels good, pretty?” His voice was shaky and breathy, thumb moving quickly as it swept over your clit, his other hand sliding from your hip down to one of your thighs, pushing it apart from the other one. “Are you close? C’mon, let me make you cum.”

You finally let go of his biceps just to grip his face and bring it down in a messy kiss, the noise of surprise drowned out by the desire that was about to consume the two of you. When your orgasm crashed over you, it was warm, warm and comfortable and a little overwhelming like the crashing and roaring bright waves at the beach during summer, each wave of pleasure crashing over your body, moans muffled against Taehyun’s lips. He slowed down his movements, though never fully ceasing until you came down from it.

Sweat broke across your skin like it had on his, you weren’t quite sure what was happening to your body once it stopped jerking, pleasure subsiding into a comforting bliss as you panted, but still, you wanted him. You wanted more–all of him, just like you had given yourself wholly to Taehyun.

“I want you.” You murmured, low and lazy. It was unlike anything you had felt before, the way that despite your satisfaction with your orgasm solely from Taehyun’s fingers, you were still pulsing for him. You only saw some of these things in books you sometimes would get your hands on and could only dream about, but now, you really could say for yourself that it was true. Everything in those books was true.

“Are you sure?” Taehyun questioned despite already moving to fully settle between your thighs, body towering above yours. Your eyes peered open to a sight that you would easily take as your last glance. Taehyun’s lips were parted, his brow was furrowed, he was sweating almost as much as you were. The lines of his body above yours were enough to make a new wave of arousal crash over you, lines that seemed to be so carefully carved out, ones that looked like they had gotten undivided attention and care. If this wasn’t heaven, you weren’t sure what it was. You swallowed hard, nodding frantically.

“I need you in me before I go insane.” You admitted. Normally, you’d be ashamed of admitting such things. But now it felt right, every filthy thing that you could muster up in your brain wasn’t something you wanted to hide anymore. “Please.”

“You make me feel like I’m losing my mind, you know?” Taehyun groaned, low and rumbling on his throat as his hand pumped his cock a few times before he pressed the tip to your fluttering entrance, hissing softly. “Keep saying shit like that and I’ll cum soon.”

You would’ve laughed at that, normally. But with the way Taehyun looked dead serious, it served to make you impossibly wetter. Especially knowing how much control you held over Taehyun. “I’m sorry–just please–”

Your plea morphed into a moan, barely able to finish what you were going to say before the tip of Taehyun’s dick breached your entrance, pushing forward little by little. The stretch was almost unreal, burning and so, so good. Taehyun wasn’t any better, hisses and low moans leaving his lips along with lines of profanity each time he sank a bit deeper. “Fuck–you feel so fucking good,” he managed out, his grip that he had acquired on your hips tightening. “I don’t know how I went this long without being in you.”

Heat flushed up your face as you covered your face with your hands in slight embarrassment, only to be pulled away by one of Taehyun’s own hands. “No, don’t do that. Just.. let me look at you.”

You nodded, heart skipping a beat at the sheer note of desperation clinging to Taehyun’s voice. The moment he bottomed out, you were both a mess of moans and heavy breaths. Your vision was a mixture of dark and bright mingling all at once, the fullness just enough to have you satisfied. “You’re in so deep.”

Taehyun bit down on his lip at your whine, searching your face for any source of discomfort before pulling out almost fully and pushing all the way back in. He settled for a deep, moderate pace. Noises pulled out of the both of you, Taehyun’s lips found your neck again. Biting, sucking–enough to make your back arch against his chest.

The familiar coil of pleasure built up in your gut once again, this time almost overstimulating considering your first orgasm wasn’t too long ago. “Tyun–Tae, I’m so close!–” You sobbed out, tears sliding down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure that overtook your whole body.

“Shit–me too, just hold on a bit longer, okay?” Taehyun’s moments quickly became erratic, moving quickly and almost a bit sloppy. Your moans mixed with his own, loud and echoing inside the room.

His thumb met your clit in firm circles, your hips jerking and twitching at his touch. You completely fell apart beneath him, nails digging into his back. Taehyun moved to pull out, but your legs fully wrapped around his waist, ankles locking onto his lower back.

“Y/N–baby, I have to pull out.” Taehyun panicked, but you shook your head, firm on your decision.

“I’ll be fine, cum inside–please.”

And how could Taehyun possibly say no to you? He found that he couldn’t, not when your eyes were teary as they peered open to look at him through your lashes, your face pleading and lip jutting out in a pout. It was all it took for him to explode, ropes of cum spilling inside of you with quick and eventually slowing jerks of his hips.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, Taehyun slumped forward against you, but in order to not crush you, he managed to move both of your bodies to lie side by side. His arm, strong and yet gentle, wrapped around your side as he pulled out with a hiss, a noise of complaint due to overstimulation pulled out of you.

“Are you okay?”

“More than I have been in years.” You smiled dumbly, face pressing further against his shoulder. Taehyun’s skin was warm enough to make you more boneless than you already were against him, a sigh of satisfaction leaving you. “You’re perfect.”

“It’s a bit ironic for you to say that considering you denied it when I called you perfect.” Taehyun snorted, soon melting into a warm laughter that shook his chest. Exhaustion slowly crept in for you, slowly feeling like it was pulling you under a haze of well-deserved sleep.

“You should sleep, Y/N.” Taehyun murmured, frowning at how your head shook. “You’re really stubborn, you know that? Aren’t you tired?”

“I want to stay with you a little longer.” You insisted, opening your mouth for another protest to come out only for you to yawn instead. “I’ll be fine..”

“We’ll have all the time in the world to be together now. I’ll come wake you up or come find you once my shift ends, okay?” Taehyun stroked a hand over your back, the other on your hair, twirling the loose curls.

“As soon as it ends?” You questioned again, finally satisfied once Taehyun hummed in agreement. Then, only then, did you fall asleep.

WHEN YOU WOKE UP AGAIN, moonlight was seeping in through the window. You were groggy, turning to face the cheap clock on the nightstand marking 11:40 in the evening was the first thing that didn’t quite sit right with you. You were drowned out in Taehyun’s shirt and a piece of underwear, boxers, since your panties were completely soaked hours ago. You managed to pull yourself to your feet, funnily enough not finding your dress, so you opted for one of Taehyun’s pants that you fastened with a belt. Then, you felt a jolt. Lost in a slight haze of sleep, you almost lost your balance, nearly tripping on your own feet.

You needed to find Taehyun.

You opened the door, now finding yourself to be a bit more alert. Not because you forced yourself out of it, but because flurries of screaming passengers were leaping past you up the stairs towards the deck. Mothers holding their children, men dragging their wives without luggage. Your heart sank, only to realize something had to be terribly wrong. You followed the motion while barefoot, leaping up the steps and past crowding passengers with a struggle, everything in you insisting that you had to find Taehyun. You had to see if he was okay–was he hurt? Was anyone hurt at all?

The cold air started biting onto your skin the moment you stepped outside, you could hear it distinctly. Orders were being barked, lifeboats were being thrown onto the water with fumbling hands alongside ropes, people with thick coats outside, and you were freezing. You didn’t care about the cold, you kept searching. And while at it, you were trying to find answers.

You found Kai first. The valet that was close to Miyeon, you grabbed his shoulder as he finished assessing a mother and her child, his eyes blown wide with fear. “Kai? Can you tell me what happened? Why is everyone so scared?”

“We hit an iceberg.” Kai didn’t bother sugarcoating it, only pointing towards a lifeboat and attempting to drag you towards it. You freed yourself from his grip, shaking your head.

“What the hell do you mean we hit an iceberg? Where is Taehyun? How big is the iceberg that it’s damn near stopping the whole ship?” Your voice was trembling and stiff, the cold of the wood beneath your feet making your whole body quiver.

“Ma’am. The ship is sinking.”

“What? But it can’t sink! We were told it wouldn’t, and I know the watertight compartments and–” You were in disbelief, word after word being blurted out from what Mingyu had told you. Kai only nodded solemnly, shaking his head.

“I heard it from our captain himself.” Kai sighed, despite his fear, he offered you a smile. “He said that the ship will be at the bottom of the ocean before we get to see the sun rise on the horizon, Mrs. Kim.”

Your blood became almost as cold as the chilled air out here, before you could ask anything else, you heard it. Faint, but above the rising and panicked voices, the sound of violins playing together in one last symphony tugged at your heart. “Kai, for God’s sake, don’t let one of these lifeboats not have enough slots.”

Without waiting for an answer, you pushed through crowds up and further towards the deck of the ship where the sound of strings grew louder, your breath coming in pained gasps as the air made your face, hands, feet and lungs numb and burn painfully. You pushed everyone aside, but not everyone cared, considering everyone was busy trying to survive. “Taehyun!” You shouted, eyes desperate, and finally, you found him there.

Taehyun had always been a rather brave man.

He didn’t show an ounce of fear, yet, his jaw was tight. Beomgyu was on the cello next to him, Soobin was next to them despite the piano not being there for him to accompany them. They were trying to calm the people down despite deep down, also being terrified. Playing their duties until the last moment.

“Taehyun!” You called out again, this time catching his eye. The way he faltered on the violin was evident, torn between duty and you. He stopped playing after a hesitating moment, rushing towards you and gripping your shoulders. “Why are you here? You have to get out! You all have to!”

“You have to leave, it’s not safe.” Taehyun’s brow furrowed, eyes sweeping over the crowd as if to find anyone he could trust to take you away.

“What? You’re not planning on staying, are you?” You laughed in disbelief, sniffling as your nose started to run due to the bitter cold that was unforgivable despite all of your feelings blossoming at the surface.

“It’s my job, I’ll leave right after.” Taehyun insisted, looking back at Beomgyu and Soobin. “I can’t leave my colleagues here, alone. Especially not Beomgyu and Soobin. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Then I’m staying with you!” You screamed, tears burning hot in your eyes as you held onto Taehyun’s hands tightly. “Don’t leave me.”

“I can’t let you do that.” Taehyun shook his head, both hands gripping your face. They were cold, his fingers were shaking and red and most certainly numb. It pained you, making your heart ache with fear and with so many things you wanted to say. You couldn’t say anything else before Yeonjun walked over, meeting Taehyun’s desperate gaze.

“I need you to take her to safety.” Taehyun said as he handed you towards Yeonjun, who despite holding pity inside his eyes, nodded. “Make sure she gets to a lifeboat and stay with her.”

“Taehyun! I can’t let you do this! Let me stay with you!” You protested, but Yeonjun was way stronger than you were, and already turned to drag you towards a lifeboat.

“I promise it’ll all be okay, I’ll see you soon, my pretty girl.” Taehyun reassured with one last smile, already turning to grab his violin in order to return to his duty. You choked on a sob, pitiful and loud. You weren’t special, you weren’t the only one crying. “This isn’t fair! Let me go!”

“They don’t have enough lifeboats, Y/N.” Yeonjun finally snapped out of panic and fear, holding you in place by your shoulders once you got into line to get into the boats. The words made your heart sink–not everyone would leave the Titanic alive, most people would sink here. Taehyun would probably be one of them.

"He’ll die out there, Yeonjun!" You sobbed, trying to shake yourself free, but Yeonjun kept pushing you forward. "How can you do this?!"

"You’ll die too if you don’t stop!" Yeonjun shouted above your own shouts, shaking his head. "Listen. He’s doing this because he wants to, it’s his job, Y/N. But that doesn’t mean you have to die with him."

"I can’t leave him alone." You sniffled, sobs heaving into hiccups. Yeonjun got inside first, then he helped you inside the wobbly lifeboat. You sat on the bench, burying your face in your hands as your shoulders shook. With closed eyes, you could almost recall Taehyun’s memory of the water in Wisconsin, the way he spoke to you about how dying in freezing water was like. Freezing. A brutal death that replaced quick breaths for gallons of icy water inside one’s lungs. That would be Taehyun.

You were safe on the lifeboat, and even though it screamed safety, it was surely momentary. Safety, to you, was his arms. Even if they would be the last thing you would feel before succumbing to the waters.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with the stars glimmering above the pitch dark expanse of the ocean. Two things flickered in your mind once your world slowed down, one was that you promised Taehyun to leave this damned ship with him.

Yet, you were on a lifeboat. You were sitting down about to be sent off to safety while the man you loved in such a short time drowned to death. You had chosen him over Mingyu—your happiness over wealth, you forced yourself out of your unhappy and abusive marriage for him. Taehyun was slipping through your fingers like thin sand, and you were just letting him.

The second thing was that you hadn’t even said I love you.

The realization stung deep inside your chest, causing you to stand up quickly. Because why the hell were you leaving to safety while Taehyun sunk?

Screw it.

You said you’d leave this ship with Taehyun. You were supposed to.

And you would keep your word.

You turned towards Yeonjun, suddenly grabbing his hand as a final act of goodbye. "I’m sorry." Was all the context you gave before taking off, leaping off of the lifeboat with a strength you didn’t know you had, ribs colliding against the metal railing edge of the ship, your hands were numb, almost falling into the icy water. Everything burned and ached, your nose started to run from the cold. You swore you would be swallowed down by the ocean.

But then the people on the ship were pulling you up. Hands that pulled you up by the shoulders, from beneath your armpits, your hands—they hauled you up with shared effort, even the strongest were weak under the cold breeze. You didn’t get to thank them properly, already in too much of a rush. The second your feet collided with the cold wood of the ship, you were leaping upwards and rushing forward.

You pushed through panicked crowds, crying mothers and screaming valets. People were pressing too closely together, making you squeeze between men and women until you managed to find the considerably empty part of the ship where Taehyun was playing.

His eyes didn’t miss you. They never did.

This time, he dropped the violin. Almost shocked—for a moment scared, angry, and almost frustrated before it all melted into exasperation. "Are you insane?!" Taehyun surged forward with a sharp accusation, hands on either side of your face. "You were safe!—You were meant to get to safety and.. what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I told you I’d leave with you." You stood your ground, eyes so full and unbearably warm with love that it caught him off guard. So what if people or Taehyun thought you were crazy? "I meant what I said. Every single bit."

"But this is insanity! You could die! Why would you—"

"Because I love you, damn it!" You blurted out, quickly shutting off any possible questions Taehyun might have. "Taehyun, I love you."

Taehyun was looking at you as if you had dropped a bomb on him, which quite frankly—you had. His chest was heaving, lips gaped in sharp intakes of breath despite only being standing so far.

Words you were afraid of saying spilled out of your lips with ease, you weren’t quite sure how come it left easily. These words had been stuck inside of you since your faked vows to Mingyu, every single I love you before Taehyun was a struggle, something you had to force out. A real string of words involving love has been stuck inside of you, and yet, looking at Taehyun so panicked because you weren’t inside the lifeboat with Yeonjun, they slipped out way easier than they ever had gotten out.

"I love you." You pressed on more firmly, stepping closer to him. "Do you get that in any—"

You weren’t able to finish your sentence once his lips met yours. For a split second, the world faded away. You allowed yourself to pretend that, maybe, just maybe, the ship wasn’t sinking. The panic drowned out from your ears, tuned out. Everything but Taehyun became a mere nothing, the screams that carried through the open air no longer audible as your lips moved against his in a longing dance. You kissed Taehyun feverishly, like you would die if you ever pulled away from his lips. Like he was the only thing in your world.

Which really, it was reality. The ship would sink at any moment now, and people pushed and rushed forward, bumping into you two. Uncaring of romance despite the fact you were sweetly drowning in it. But it couldn’t last long, not if you two wanted to survive. Because drowning in freezing cold and drowning in love were two different things, and one of them would actually end up killing the two of you and many more people.

All because they didn’t bring more lifeboats.

Once you two pulled back, Taehyun shook his head. This time, he was the one to cry. Tears slid down his face, sparkly eyes teary and full of emotion.

He grabbed your arm and led you partially away from the screaming crowd, glancing at the darkness around that didn’t even seem like water. Just darkness. There was no possible way to survive this unless you boarded on a lifeboat, that was Taehyun's biggest fear. “You have to get back to the boat.”

You shook your head, refusing to let go of Taehyun. “I’ll get on the boat when you get on the boat too.”

"I don’t want you to die because of me."

"No one is going to die." You reassured firmly, looking around. "Do you trust me?"

Taehyun nodded. Hesitant, and for once allowing the fear, adrenaline, and will to not die here take over. If he had to survive so you would too, then so be it.

"We have to get out of here. We have to find a way, let’s Soobin and Beomgyu." You assessed, fully focused now. You had to snap your fingers in front of Beomgyu’s face to get him back to reality, you could tell he was disassociating to ignore how scared he was. And it pained you. Soobin looked no better, his eyes wide and terrified, but he made no moves to get anywhere away from Beomgyu.

"We have to leave. Now. I don’t think they’ll have enough lifeboats soon enough." You explained quickly, hoping Beomgyu would understand the extent of the problem, but all you got was a jerky shake of his head. "You can’t be serious, Beomgyu."

"I’m dying doing what I love." Beomgyu pressed on. "If I’m dying, I want people to feel a sliver of peace."

There was no changing Beomgyu’s mind, nor Soobin’s. You glanced at him desperately, Soobin gave you a look that already conveyed his answer and then looked at Taehyun. This was the closest look to betrayal you had ever seen Taehyun have on his face, but the two didn’t budge.

"I’m not leaving Beomgyu alone." Soobin declared, stepping closer to the shorter guy who was focused on the piece he was playing on the cello. The other musicians nearby kept playing, almost like nothing was wrong. Taehyun was the only one not playing. "You two have to leave."

You drew in another shaky back, grimacing as you squeezed Taehyun’s hand–holding the freezing palm against yours for reassurance. “Beomgyu, you can also leave. There has to be a way.”

“Even if there isn’t, we’ll find one.” Taehyun insisted, stepping forward. This was more important to Taehyun than it was to you, because they’ve all known each other for a long time. Having to pick between dying with your best friends and other musicians in honor or leaving with someone you learned to love in such a short amount of time was an extremely hard decision.

“Taehyun, I’m not leaving. You heard what they said, didn’t you? Not everyone will survive this, I don’t want these people to die with their own screams in their throats. I want them to know a bit of peace before dying like this.” There was no changing Beomgyu’s mind, if Beomgyu stayed–the problem was that so would Soobin. They’ve always kind of been stuck to one another, good friends before Taehyun even joined the picture. Still, it burned. It ached, because even if life was hard in every single aspect, even if the road got tough, they somehow managed to pull through things together in bursts of laughter so the tears wouldn’t fall, worries downed down by shots of alcohol and puffed out by cigarettes. Taehyun looked like he wanted to scream at them, but nothing would change their decision. Or maybe to scream and cry at the world for how unfair this was.

“You can go. We’re not holding anything against you, you hear me? You deserve to have someone.” Soobin smiled solemnly, and in your opinion, Beomgyu and Soobin had to be one of the bravest men you’ve ever met. “You’re the youngest between us, Taehyun. You have so much to live for, so take that opportunity and run with it. Live life greatly, and get out of here alive. Plus, you can’t swim. It’ll be harder for you to hold on in case any ships come by to help. So just go, okay?”

“Taehyun, we have to go.” You forced the words out, because even if you hadn’t spent much moments with the two other men, it was easy to feel emotional over this. Stress reeked over the atmosphere, but with reluctance, Taehyun nodded and moved. He didn’t try to convince Soobin and Beomgyu anymore, just grimly accepted that they wouldn’t be here anymore. At least not in his life in a matter of moments. The last words lingered in your mind, though. Two nights ago, Taehyun convinced you he was a good swimmer. Turns out he couldn’t swim at all, and had bluffed to get you to not kill yourself.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t want it to be like this.

You were supposed to leave this ship tomorrow with Taehyun, maybe with Soobin and Beomgyu behind you cracking jokes. You were supposed to confess your love to Taehyun without any ounce of fear or panic, maybe wrapped around his arms after Taehyun woke you up and slid in bed next to you with one arm slung over your waist. You were supposed to maybe go to Wisconsin where some of Taehyun’s family resided, to swim on lakes on days where the sun is abusing your skins and the heat is making sweat trickle down nonstop after you taught him how to swim properly and learnt to yourself. You were supposed to kiss, you were supposed to enjoy your last moments in the Titanic running from Eunwoo and sneaking around places together, to maybe steal food from the banquet of the upper class dining hall. Maybe even confess it on the very end of the docks, over the railing, with Taehyun’s arms wrapped around your waist as the sun started to fall before docking. With your arms extended in freedom, maybe then you would have properly kissed Taehyun and told him you loved him. Loved him with all your heart and that you meant it more than you ever had since your fake vows.

But fear always crept into your life, whether it was Mingyu or feverish, drowning circumstances. It was your fate.

You wished you could blame someone for stealing all this magic from you, but maybe it was your own fault for not having spoken up earlier.

“Y/N I love–” Taehyun started once you dragged him away from Soobin and Beomgyu and the other musicians who remained stuck to the ground like trees. Taehyun looked like maybe he was just accepting fate, the dying one.

“No. Save it.” You said, trying to hide all your desperation. You wanted to believe you and Taehyun would have many great moments once you boarded out of this ship one way or another, and that was the hope you wanted to cling onto. “Nothing is going to happen, okay? Save it for once we’re safe together, but we need to get out.”

“MIYEON!” A voice from far reached both of your ears before anything else could happen, you faintly recognized the voice.

You have always been one to forget little things, sometimes. They were mostly minor assumptions that you would make that would turn out to be completely wrong. Whether it was a book out of place or the towels folded the wrong way inside the bathroom, you never really made much of an effort to change that part of yourself. Mingyu was one to complain about it, too. The way things were out of place than he remembered, or didn’t hold a familiar pattern. He would stomp onto the living room connected to the lavish greatness of the kitchen and complain in time with each collision of the knife you held against the chopping board as you cut up potatoes to make soup.

You couldn’t have seen how small assumptions like this could evolve into a much bigger problem. But the name–the name of your ladymaid, being screamed out in so much desperation, made something inside of you freeze. Your heart clenched–where was Miyeon? Surely, Mingyu should have taken Miyeon with her, right? He paid her, technically, in a way, he was the one to be responsible for her until the ship docked. But then there was the fact Miyeon ‘betrayed him’, and Eunwoo was a rather misogynistic individual, anyway. There was a small chance that Miyeon wasn’t even on the deck.

“Shit,” You hissed, letting go of Taehyun’s hand to push through the crowd towards the screaming man, Taehyun’s screams of your name being drowned out by shuffling clothes.

You were shaking with cold, but you found Kai and his wide, panicked eyes. “Mrs. Kim! Have you seen Miyeon? I can’t find her anywhere, I swear I looked everywhere and inside every lifeboat, is she with you?”

You shook your head frantically, Taehyun made it behind you with grunting noises and much struggle. Everyone on the ship probably became aware of how serious the situation was, because with each bustling wave of new passengers, it was harder to move around. “No, she isn’t! Do you think she’s inside?”

Kai managed to choke something out–you weren’t quite aware of the connection Kai might have to Miyeon, but it was probably out of your field of imagination considering he was so frustrated. “I can’t go back in there, they won’t let me.”

Because Kai was still working. It was pure bullshit.

“I’ll find her, okay? You just wait here and try to hold space inside a lifeboat.” You glanced around, five boats had already moved far away from the titanic. Around you, couples desperately kissed and women held their children before sending them off. Multiple goodbyes happened every five seconds, lips to lips, tears mixing with more tears. You reached for Taehyun’s hand once again, men were screaming towards children and their wives that they loved them, and that one day over the rainbow they’ll meet again. Soon enough.

Beneath the glimmering stars, these lifeboats set off with ease, abandoning the wrecking ship. Still, you found that the waters you were so afraid of before, the ones that wrecked and roared against the sides of the ship were still. It was intimidating, and it should have been scary, but it wasn’t. Not really.

Once Kai moved away, Taehyun was immediately disagreeing with you. “You can’t go back in there, it’s basically suicide! The water is freezing, there’s no way we’ll have time.” But the thought of losing Miyeon hurt as much as the thought of Taehyun losing Soobin and Beomgyu.

“I wouldn’t be here with you if it wasn’t for her, Taehyun.” You revealed, too cold and even a little exhausted to produce tears. “She helped me more than anyone has on this ship, I can’t leave her behind.”

Taehyun’s jaw clenched, smokes of cold air leaving his parted lips. The chillness in the air was making it far harder to breathe, it was torture. Going down there would just heighten it. But just like how there was no changing his best friends’ mind, there was no changing yours, too.

“Please. Let’s just look, and if we can’t find her, we come back up here and we leave, alright?” That made Taehyun look somewhat relieved, relieved enough to get him to agree, anyway.

“Okay. But if we don’t find anything, we leave.” You nodded, not wasting another moment before you burst through the doors of the main salon. Everything was abandoned, completely thrown over. Suddenly, luxury items didn’t have any meaning. You swallowed hard, venturing deeper into the room to find the door that led to the inner part of the ship where the back doors to the upper class suites were.

“I think she could be in there. That–bastard probably didn’t get Miyeon out.” You hissed, rounding the staircase. You paused just short of the first step, the water stared at you mockingly. All the way down where the hallway extended towards the rooms, water was easily knees-deep.

“Oh, dear God.” Taehyun wasn’t much of a religious man, you guessed. But it was in the harder moments that you plead for God despite not being a believer. Swallowing down every bit of discomfort you were already feeling, you flew down the steps keeping your hold onto Taehyun’s hand.

“Oh–holy shit,” You breathed out, eyes screened shut. The water was indeed freezing cold. Like little needles that prickled your skin and numbed your legs further. Taehyun gripped your hand tighter, you couldn’t take too long. Not unless you wanted to freeze to death or potentially drown considering Taehyun didn’t know how to swim–something that made the situation far worse. You almost jolted, but you pushed past still. The fabric of Taehyun’s pants clung to your legs, the water swishing loudly around you despite every protest of your nerves with each step.

“Y/N–”

“It's fine. We’ll be fine.” You forced yourself to breathe, it was indeed far too cold, way too cold for someone like you to handle. Turns out that drowning indeed would not have been the best option to go. “It’s just so–” Your voice wavered as you moved quicker, the water rising up to above your knees.

“Cold? Yeah. It’s fucking freezing in here.” Taehyun hissed, finishing your sentence because you were far too busy looking for the right number carved on the door. “Are you sure she could be here? Wouldn’t she be screaming if that was the case?”

“I don’t know. The main problem is that I don’t know what Mingyu could have done to her, he’s really hellbent on getting revenge.” Your vision blurred, you forced it back and put it to work each time you glanced over the doors. Your room had to be probably at the very end of the hall, and if Miyeon wasn’t there, then there was a very high chance that she was already gone.

You didn’t like that idea one single bit.

“You can go back upstairs if you want to, I’ll look for her alone and–” You took a step further, only to be stopped. This time, Taehyun was staring at you with such firmness inside his eyes that it took you aback. Despite not knowing how to swim and putting himself through numbing, burning pain, he looked determined. You sacrificed your own safety for him, it was his turn to do it for you.

“No.” Taehyun shook his head. “I don’t want to lose you too, not you.”

It was stupid of you to even have asked Taehyun to leave–of course. You knew the risks, if this part of this ship fell apart, you’d be drowned by all the debris and pieces falling apart. And then Taehyun would lose you, Soobin, and Beomgyu all at once. “You won’t.”

Swallowing hard, you pulled him in for a kiss that might as well be your last, though you didn’t want it to be. Both of your lips were trembling, his skin was cold to your touch, so cold that even goosebumps couldn’t rise across it. Once you broke apart, you tried to keep every feature of his–committing it to memory, but once the ship groaned, reminding you that this wasn’t a nightmare but reality, you got ready to move once again.

“But now we need to keep looking if we want to survive this.” You said quietly, hating how you instinctively used ‘if’ instead of ‘for us to survive this.’ Alas, without much time to dwell on your choice of water, you moved deeper. Deeper into the sloshing liquid. By now, you could barely feel your legs. It didn’t hurt as much, but it felt weird to move. You were sure the skin beneath the pants you were wearing was pale, nearly frozen. Your skin felt stretched, your fingers already pruning from staying so long within the water.

“Y/N, wait.” Taehyun stopped you barely six steps in, eyes squinting as his head whipped around. “Can you hear that?”

You shook your head, suddenly going quiet as you began to look around, too. Quick tapping, frantic sloshing, then finally, your ears caught onto the sound of a rusty doorhandle being twisted nonstop. No one else would be here besides Miyeon, you glanced a few doors down, the water would maybe be up to your hipbones going down there, but she had to be there.

“Miyeon?!” You called out, moving as quickly as you could through the water. “Are you in there?!”

“Y/N? Dear, is that you?” Her voice was frail, raspy and even weak. There was no doubt she was freezing more than you were, but there was more to it. She sounded like she could barely hold herself up, you wanted to curse Mingyu for doing this. “The door is locked.”

“What happened?” You asked, finally reaching the door. You twisted the knob, and it was indeed locked.

“He found out–I don’t remember much, my head hurts and I’m so cold.” She was probably crying, no doubt terrified. You guessed Eunwoo or Mingyu knocked her out before locking her in here.

“Did he leave the key inside the room? Somewhere inside, maybe?”

“There’s nothing here, just furniture–and most things are already underwater.”

You shared a desperate glance with Taehyun, who also tried to twist the doorknob open. “Y/N, there’s no way this will open.” Taehyun whispered, trying to not bring any more reasons to panic to the woman who was already freaking out enough. You bit down on your lip almost hard enough to draw blood, looking around the hallway for anything that could help–then, you looked at your own nails. The manicure was delicate and the polish was worn out, still, your nails were long and shaped in sharp ovals. This would have to somehow work. “I’ll try something, keep your hands on the doorknob and once you–hear it clink wrench it open.”

One of the biggest complications would be the fact that there was a lot of water pressure on both sides of the door, high enough to cause complications for it to not open. But you and Taehyun were desperate, and with no other choice out and speaking becoming a struggle followed by Miyeon’s heavy sobs, this would have to do.

You tried to slide one of your nails inside the keyhole, fitting easily. It was hard to hold your hand in place, it shook in protest and each twist of your nail brought a sharp, bursting pain through your nerves. “Come on.. this has to work.” You whispered under your breath, twisting the keyhole as firmly and precisely as you could. It felt like an eternity, a tense one full of uncertainty. But due to fate having a little bit of mercy on the predicament the three of you found yourselves in, the door opened in a sharp clink that came as a standard of the Titanic’s doors.

“Step back, I’ll try to open it now!” Taehyun ordered firmly, you stepped away from the door, back hitting the wall as he tried to wrench the door open. The water caused great resistance, Taehyun’s knuckles were going white with each pull and sounds of struggle that he was letting out. The door opened a moment later with more sloshing water, Miyeon tipped forward, lips blue that blended into a deep shade of purple, skin paling and irritated. She looked almost unconscious, soaked from head to toe as if she had dived under the water to find a key before you and Taehyun had found her.

“Miyeon!” You cried out, reaching for one of her arms to steady one above one of your shoulders, Taehyun doing the same with her other one. You didn’t waste any more time, already moving upwards.

“Are t-there enough lifeboats up there?” Miyeon’s teeth chattered, forcing herself to move forward, though she was being dragged rather than walking by her own will, what mattered was her wishes to survive.

“Probably. I told Kai to try to hold spots for us–you’ll be safe, okay? He was scared, he tried looking for you but they wouldn’t let him.” You crossed a turn, towards the stairs that spiraled up into the chaos.

“You didn’t have to come all the way down here for me, Y/N.” Miyeon said with a tone of pity, she knew that everyone would be too desperate to listen to a valet begging for four vacant spots.

“It’s fine. Don’t speak, okay? Save your energy, you’re freezing.” You gave her a smile after a great deal of effort, then turned to look at Taehyun.

“Do you think they have life vests? They should, shouldn’t they?”

“They should, well, probably do. That’s our next option after the lifeboats.” Taehyun nodded, already hauling Miyeon up the stairs with your help.

The ship was still chaotic, you could see it from the salon. The water was only up to your knees from this part of the ship, giving your thighs and some parts of your body that had been swallowed by water some well deserved relief. You pushed yourselves through the door, looking for Kai before attempting to find a spot in the single remaining lifeboat.

“I’m sorry, I can’t give you this spot!” You heard his voice, then a sound of a pained groan alongside cracking.

“I’ll go check it out, come on, take her.” Taehyun let go of Miyeon, you held her side this time, pushing forward a bit slower than how quickly Taehyun was moving. You pushed through people once again, only to find Kai on the ground with a bleeding nose with a man with wild eyes above him. His wife was crying next to him, Taehyun made quick work to try to pull the man off, but it was hard, considering he was so resistant.

“Let him go!” You screamed, enough to catch Kai’s attention. His eyes didn’t linger on him, but on Miyeon. His bloodied up face softened and washed over with sadness at her state. He remained unmoving, you were sure the man had broken his nose, especially since he looked like he was struggling to take a single breath. He pointed to where a man waited to load people onto the lifeboat as he glanced at you once again, blood, sticky and warm as a contrast to the chill in the air dripping inside his mouth as he mouthed a please.

You nodded, understanding the assessment. While Taehyun busied himself with pulling the man away from Kai, you moved with as much strength as you could to drag Miyeon towards the man, your limbs straining and begging for a break. “How many spots?” You breathed out, glancing at the boat.

“One. I’m sorry, ma’am. The boat will sink otherwise.” The man glanced between the two of you, you pursed your lips and held back tears. Miyeon was exhausted, probably freezing over. If she didn’t get on this boat for help ships to find her, she would catch some sort of hypothermia.

“Take her.” You swallowed, already handing Miyeon towards the man. She was too weak to protest, but still tried to cling to your hand. You shook your head, smiling solemnly at her as a final act of goodbye and sheer thankfulness for everything she had done for you. The man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as if he had expected you to choose yourself over her, but didn’t question your choice. As soon as Miyeon was loaded into the boat, the man cut the ropes, and the last lifeboat sailed away into the pitch black of the ocean that reflected the stars above like a mirror.

Turning around, the man that had clearly broken Kai’s nose was already comforting his weeping wife. Taehyun had ripped part of his shirt to serve it as a cloth to cover Kai’s nose, you kneeled down next to the two, tipping Kai’s head back to further access the bleeding. “They don’t have more lifeboats.” You said through gritted teeth, biting your lip.

“Y/N. I can’t swim.” Taehyun whispered as a reminder, you tried to keep yourself steady–but everything in you was panicking. You were terrified, you didn’t want to die. But panicking would do little to help you.

“I know you can’t.” You swallowed down hard, wiping another wave of blood from Kai’s nose as he groaned in pain. “We need to find the life vests.”

“They’re all the way up on the very end of the deck, you can find them behind the ventilator–” Kai managed out, though he didn’t manage to finish his sentence before Taehyun was already springing to his feet.

You glanced at Kai’s watch, cheap and simple. It was around two in the morning, two fifteen, to be precise. Three hours had easily flown by, but the cruel irony still managed to press down within every passing second.

You remembered how, exactly two nights ago, you were on the other side of the rail, holding your breath and readying yourself to jump and take your life. You thought it would be peaceful and freeing, only then to be told and shown by a total stranger that played the violin that the water would only make you suffer before your demise. Then, you found safety in his arms.

It was really ironic that, despite not jumping, your end would be aboard on the Titanic as it sunk. In the exact same place where Taehyun saved your life, dying for the same exact reason Taehyun tried to save you from.

Once Taehyun came back, you fastened your life vest around yourself, pressing yourself closer to him while still keeping a distance close to Kai. You were shaking all over, cold taking over your body and bullying your senses as you rested your head on Taehyun’s shoulder. Everyone was crying nearby, but you three remained seated. From the far distance, you could hear the soft violin strings playing alongside the rumble of Beomgyu’s cello, Soobin wasn’t playing, but now he was singing. His voice drifted like honey through the air, above the heavy sobs and goodbyes between husbands and wives.

You allowed your eyes to flutter shut, accepting that maybe you would leave this ship with Taehyun one way or another. Just maybe not alive. Taehyun’s stiff fingers reached for your hair, resembling how he was stroking the strands hours before after making you his for the first time. You tuned out the pleas for help, the heart shattering screams and the prayers. You didn’t want to be saved, not anymore. You just wanted this to end quickly. For death to be quick and merciful, just for it to welcome you warmly.

Throughout your whole life, destiny was never merciful towards you, not once. Whether it had been because you were sold to a man who would abuse you for life, or the way that your skin would be bruised and your lips silenced. Now, you just wanted a sliver of pity.

You never liked the idea of being pitied, and yet, you hoped that’s what fate would have in store for you and everyone else here. Pity to let all of you go quickly rather than slowly, pity to not let all of you feel this kind of death.

“I love you.” Taehyun whispered to you, resting his head against your own. “I love you so much, Y/N. I always will.”

You didn’t cry. You just nodded weakly and reached for his hand. You opened your eyes to face the open sky, the way it was so pretty and scattered in gleaming stars. For a moment, it was peaceful.

The screams died right after. On the final moment where the ship gave way for everyone to say final goodbyes, it creaked and groaned, then came the snap. Everything completely fell apart right after. The weight of the passengers dug the ship down quicker, wood splintering and things collapsing against one another, everything else was quiet as the Titanic started to sink, a scream ripping from your weak throat unprompted followed by many, but each scream was swallowed by the louder sound of breaking that you just wanted to end. Fast and hungry, the ocean swallowed every bit of the ship, first the bottom part that had been tipping, which led to you trying to scoot further up the deck to grip the railing–people were tumbling down into the water, you were shaking, whether from fear or cold you weren’t sure.

Above the moans of pain beneath, the ocean took by right the other half of the ship. Your whole body shuddered once it came into full contact with the water. Your teeth began chattering instantly, but you weren’t holding Taehyun’s hand anymore.

He couldn’t swim. Sure, he had a life vest–but he had to be freaking out. Maybe as much as you were.

“Taehyun?” You whimpered, looking around, and yet–you could only see black. It frustrated you as it scared you. “Kang Taehyun!” You called out louder this time with a breaking voice.

The water was frenzied, turbulent around you. Then came a sharp breath next to you. “I’m here.”

You moved your legs, kicking to find Taehyun’s hand, or what you thought was his hand. “Is that you?”

“Yeah.” Taehyun agreed curtly, his hands were as stiff as yours.

“It’s okay, you’re not alone. I’m here.” You reassured, squeezing his hand weakly. “The vest won’t let you drown, just try to keep your head up, okay? Kick your feet as much as you can to keep yourself upwards.”

The silence that came in a beat finally allowed for you to feel everything. The water, now enveloping your whole body and soaking your hair, burned your whole body. You wanted to cry, even though your body was numb, everything hurt. Each rivulet and swish of water made your own body tense up, only then did you realize how truly hard it was to kick your legs in a situation like this. Though the water was freezing, your body felt like it was being set on fire. It was hard to breathe, especially with the water covering every inch of your body.

A minute had barely passed by, and yet you couldn’t feel Taehyun’s hand anymore. You weren’t even sure if you were holding it anymore, you had to try to move it against his skin to be sure he was still here.

You sucked in a few deep breaths. “I think we need to try to swim, Taehyun.”

“Where would we even swim to?” Taehyun asked, voice coated in despair as if he had already accepted death.

“I don’t know–we could try to find something to float on, the water is too cold.” You stuttered out, swallowing hard. “Just keep kicking, don’t let go of my hand.”

Taehyun nodded stiffly next to you, but you couldn’t even see him, so you took his silence as agreement. You started to swim through the cold water with grunts, trying to find something–anything, to stay on top of.

You had to push through a lot of things, bodies that floated on top of the water that made bile rise up your throat, acidic and quick, but you swallowed it down. You were sure that many people were dead by now, and then you had to push through floating luggages and more bodies.

Then your hand met something thick and solid. You lifted your hand above the expanse, wood. This had to be a door of some sorts. The debris and some floating, detached lights allowed you to finally recognize it as a door indeed. You looked back, finding Taehyun looking at the water, trying to find his feet uselessly as if to make sure they were still kicking.

“I found a door.” Your voice was full of hope, Taehyun met your eyes once again and you had never been happier to meet his eyes again. He smiled, and despite the fact that he was freezing, his smile and eyes couldn’t have been warmer.

“I’ll help you get on top of it.” Taehyun shakily replied, you were too tired to argue–so you nodded. Taehyun’s arms wrapped around your hips as he pulled you up, the door sinking for a moment before floating.

“Come on, your turn.” You reached for his hands, but Taehyun shook his head. It almost felt like a personal betrayal, frustration quickly rising up in full flare. “Come on, I’ll get off if you don’t get on this door with me.”

“It’ll sink. I’m way heavier than you.” Taehyun said almost matter of factly, gripping the edge of the door.

“I don’t care! just get on top of it!”

“You’ll freeze and catch some sort of hypothermia!–”

“So will you!”

“I can’t let you die, god damn it!” Taehyun screamed hoarsely, your tears started to fall–but you couldn’t feel them anymore.

“Then just rest on top of it, okay? I’ll hold your hand, and we float together.” Hesitatingly, Taehyun grumbled a ‘fine’ under his breath, reaching for his hands and hauled his upper body–or at least part of it, on top of the door.

Taehyun nodded, head finally limp against his arms. You rested your head next to his, every resistance from both you and the other passengers dying, swallowed by the sloshing water.

“You should t-take a rest.” Taehyun mumbled, glancing at you.

“I can’t, what if you slip?” You sniffled, shaking your head despite your conscience slipping.

“I’ll stay awake and keep holding your hand, okay? Just.. trust me again, pretty girl.”

͟✿֔ ͟ຼ ꯭ ░ ׄ my heart will always be with the boy made in Korea.

──── ၇͜ᩘ 𔒌 ﹔ BRUUUU IM FINALLY DONE!!! Tumblr is a little bitch so I had to post the ending separately ok? sorry y’all,,, anywho. hope you all enjoyed this and cry reading this as much as i have 🤍

ᦔ◟ ͜ ◞ও 𝐓 𝐀 𝐆 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 . 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓂 ◠ @soullesslien @buttersoob @dawngyu

𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍. 𝗌𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 : @seomichd @tyunningism @taebatu @middstape