“But as a neglected blade grows dull with rust, so too do men forget their purpose. Amidst waning memories of the old ways, a determined few hold fast to their convictions, hands by katana grips, awaiting the moment for steel to sing.”
BTS - Reaction to You Crying After They Surprise You
Seokjin: Jin was his normal handsome and smiley self when you first walked into your shared apartment and saw him sitting on the couch. However, when you started sobbing after seeing him he rushed forward to comfort you. “It is okay Jagi, I missed you too.” He said wrapping his arms around you while you cried into his chest.
Yoongi: When Yoongi texted you and asked you to make sure that he didn’t leave his favorite hoodie at the studio, you did not expect him to be standing outside. You saw his gummy smile as you pulled up and ran into his arms when you got out of the car. It had only been three weeks but you missed him so much. “Did I surprise you Jagi?” he said softly into your ear. You responded by nodding since you couldn’t say anything due to the fact that you broke out in tears. “I love you Min Yoongi!” You mumbled. He pulled back and kissed your forehead softly. “I love you too Y/N.”
Hoseok: When you woke up, the smell of food greeted your nose. That is odd. You walked out into the kitchen and saw Hobi standing over the stove. “Jagi!” You said excitedly and ran over to hug him as he was turning to respond to you. “Ta da!” He said wrapping his arms around you. “I had the chance to visit for a few days so I thought that I would make you breakfast in bed to wake you up, it looks like you beat me to it though.” You were so overwhelmed that you started crying “Hobi.. this is too sweet.” He giggled and tightened his hold on you as he stroked your head. “Don’t cry Y/N, we have to eat.”
Namjoon: You returned home from a long day of work earlier than usual. You planned on eating dinner by yourself and watching a few episodes of a drama before going to bed at a decent time. That all changed when you notice Namjoon’s shoes to the side of the front door. Excitement filled your chest as you looked around the house for him. You finally made your way to your bedroom and found him unpacking some things. “Joonie!” You exclaimed as you hugged him from behind. “I’m home for a bit baby,” he said moving so that he could hug you from the front. As you looked up to meet his eyes you noticed that you were crying. He wiped the tears from your cheeks as he kissed you softly. “Don’t cry Y/N,” he said as he pulled you into his chest. “I got you.”
Jimin: It was the middle of the night when you were woken up by being spooned in Jimin’s arms. “Hi Jagi, do you mind?” You turned so you could face his smiling face. Still not fully awake you asked, “Are you really here? I’m not dreaming.” He gave you a sweet kiss and then said, “did that feel real.” As he noticed that you were crying he pulled you closer. “Awe Y/N, don’t cry. I’ll sing you back to sleep.”
Taehyung: You were sitting in your desk at work waiting for your coworker to bring you coffee from their daily coffee run. Someone placed a cup of coffee on your desk and you heard a familiar voice saying, “Delivery for a miss Y/L/N.” You immediately looked up and were greeted by your boyfriend Taehyung’s dorky smirk. “Tae! What are you doing here?” You exclaimed as you got up and hugged him tightly. “I got a few days off and I wanted to surprise my lovely Jagi at work and join her for lunch.” You tried to talk through the tears that were now streaming down your face. “I love you Taehyung.” He pulled your chin up so he could wipe the tears off your face. “Awe babe, I love me too.” You gave him a small punch and he pulled you closer as he laughed. “I just wanted to lighten the mood. I love you too. Now you need to stop crying and smile.”
Jungkook: As you walked into the little café that your best friend and you were supposed to grab lunch at you noticed she wasn’t there. Instead you saw your boyfriend Jeon Jungkook sitting at a table smiling at you. Him trying to be his ‘cool’ self nonchalantly waved, “Hey Jagi, funny seeing you here.” You just stood there looking at him as you began to get emotional. He noticed that you were crying and immediately stood up and beckoned you into his arms. “I’m sorry that I made you cry Y/N.” You let him hold you till you calmed down.
Adults like to say it doesn’t mean anything. Not for sure, anyway. All the double-blind studies with twins, and still nobody really knows what it means when you press your palms together, breathe into the little gap, cup your hands–and see stars floating between your fingers.
Nobody knows. But the story is, each star is for somebody you’re going to meet and love. Boyfriend or best friend or baby: any kind of love will make a star for you.
When I was in middle-school, the other girls loved sitting together and cupping their hands, giggling over the new constellations they saw each time. I’d watch them from the corner of my eye as I sat at my end of the cafeteria table, pretending to read. I was three feet five inches away from them–just far enough that it didn’t look like I was trying to sit with them. Just close enough that I could imagine they might talk to me.
They never did. And the worst thing was, I was pretty sure I knew why.
All my life, I’ve only ever seen one star in my palms.
When I was sixteen, I met Katya, and everything changed.
I’d met her before, technically–we’d both been at St. Clare’s since freshman year–but we’d never really talked until fate or dumb luck got us assigned to the same group project, and while we were waiting for Elsa McBride to show up, I started doodling in my notebook.
“Is that an elf?” Katya asked, leaning over my shoulder.
“Um,” I said, trying to hide under my wrist without looking like I was hiding it.
“That is so cool,” she said, and grinned at me. “I mean it. You’re really good. I can’t draw at all.” She bit her lip, hesitating, then went on, “I like to write.”
By the end of the week, Katya had given me a stack of her favorite detective novels, and I had given her a stack of my favorite fantasy novels, and we were plotting to create a comic about Isfandelius the Elf-Detective. I had hopes and dreams I’d never imagined. I wasn’t just Maria anymore, I was one half of the Maria-and-Katya, and the world would never be the same.
By the end of the week, I knew for an absolute fact that my star was for Katya. And I didn’t care that she had a hundred stars between her palms. I didn’t care if I ever found anyone else to love. I had a friend, and if you don’t know how much that means, you’ve never spent your whole life on the outside looking in.
We went to the same college. It was like a dream come true.
By then, I wasn’t so worried about stars. I was practically an adult, and adults aren’t supposed to care about middle-school fortune-telling. I wasn’t so worried about making friends, either, because I’d managed to befriend Katya, hadn’t I? And I could always talk to the people that she talked to. It was going to work.
It worked. Everything went fine. We forged a gang of friends together, we fought in the epic Popcorn Popper Theft Wars, we both changed our majors three times in the first year.
Katya was a girl with a hundred stars in her hands. She had five best friends, six if you count frenemies. She fell in love twice, broke her heart twice, and now the third time seemed to be working out.
I had Katya. And I got to hang out with Katya’s friends.
Sometimes I told myself that I did have more than one friend. That nobody was the same as Katya only because I wasn’t alone anymore, so nobody else could be the one who saved me. That just because I didn’t want to share my secrets with Katya’s friends, didn’t mean they weren’t important to me.
Sometimes I told myself that any day now, I would find friends of my own, friends I hadn’t just mooched off Katya. Or that I would fall in love, because isn’t that supposed to fill up the gap in your chest? Isn’t that what finally makes you whole?
Sometimes I dug out the half-finished pages I’d drawn of the adventures of Isfandelius. Katya was still writing, but she’d moved on to other projects. She had a thousand ideas, as many as the stars in her palms, and she had to try them all.
Sometimes I just cupped my hands, and stared at my single star.
I don’t have an ending to this story.
I want to say that one day, I woke up and realized the stars in our hands have nothing to do with love or fate, and I stopped being afraid of being alone. Or that I realized my single star wasn’t Katya but somebody else, some perfect person who finally made me whole.
I want to say I’m sure that one day, no matter how it happens, there will be nothing inside my chest but the sunshine glow of being loved.
Here’s what I know: I have one friend, as precious as the sun itself. Katya was my miracle, and if I never get another, I can never be thankful enough.
Here’s what else I know: my heart is as greedy as a black hole. I could have all the love in the world, and I’m not sure it would satisfy me.
That’s all, but also this: when I cup my hands, and breathe, and look at the single star between my palms … it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.