Anyone ready for chapter 2? Writer’s Block will be out tomorrow, and then I’ll be focusing solely on this new story. Hopefully that means weekly updates! I can’t wait for you all to see where this one is going. ;) Oh, and happy Halloween! Talk to me! Pbg
The Hob is bustling when Katniss arrives. She’s
thirty minutes late, but she kept her promise to show up. She scans the area,
eyes quickly roaming over the shiny, black-topped bar with it’s mirrored
background that makes this small bar look twice its size. There’s a second room
with a few pool tables and a jukebox off the back, and Katniss makes her way
there when she doesn’t spot her coworkers.
Sure enough, a handful of them are there. Her
eyes find Peeta immediately with his light blonde hair and easy smile. He’s
standing next to Becky, who’s holding a wobbling pool stick in the wrong
position and bending over the table. It’s so obvious to Katniss that she’s
faking it - no one is that bad.
She watches with thinly veiled interest as Peeta
gives Becky pointers on how to hold the stick, leaning down beside her with his
own in hand. He’s not touching her, and Katniss knows he’s friendly and helpful
with everyone, but after Becky’s trip to her office earlier in the day, Katniss
isn’t fond of Becky’s usual display. It seems more… personal.
Requested by Anon: “Haii!~♥ Can I request where Reader is like Joker’s girl. Despite being bad-***, he'is really over protective of her (Kinda like yandere, but Reader loves him). Cause of this, Harley gets a lil’ jelly and tries to get Reader dead, but gets caught?”
Warning: Violence, Reader Abuse
Harley’s blue eyes were focused on you as you straddled the Jokers lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you laughed, the smirk on your lips managing to make her even more jealous. He had thrown her aside and she wasn’t handling it well. Throwing herself into a spiral of drunken nights where she wanted nothing more then to go to him and beg him to take her back. It was killing her to see you with him.
||| Anon asked:
Could you do a reaction where BTS meets a homeless girl singing on the streets For money and one keeps visiting her because he slowly fell for her? |||
Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Fluff, angst
Word count: 813
He will never forget the first time he saw her. He was
heading to the dorm after a dance practice when he heard somebody singing. It
was pretty late but he still looked around to see if any of the fans were
following him. Good. Tonight was quiet. He pulled his mask on and headed in the
direction of the park. There was hardly anyone around, except for her. She was
sitting on the bench. The first thing Taehyung thought was that her voice
sounded like out of this world. He leaned on one of the trees and closed his
eyes. Somehow her singing calmed him down. He was standing there for a few
minutes when the singing ceased. He opened his eyes and noticed that she was
staring in his direction. He looked around to see if anybody was behind him but
to his surprise she was looking at him and smiled. This made him blush and he
quickly left the park. Good thing he was wearing a mask or she would have
noticed how red he became.
A few nights later he couldn’t resist to go check out if she
would be there again. He heard her voice from a distance and was once again
drawn to it. It was starting to get warmer and this time she had a crowd around
her. They all clapped loudly after each song, sometimes throwing some money
into the bucket placed besides her.
“So she’s a street performer.” he thought. He waited there
and listened to her till he was the only one left standing.
“It’s you.” she spoke.
“You know me?” Taehyung asked.
“Not yet. But I remember those eyes.” she smiled giving him
a hand. “My name is Y/N.”
Her smile made him feel warm and he took and shaked her hand
taking his mask off at the same time. He waited for some kind of reaction but
she showed no signs of knowing him.
“What?” she asked.
“It’s strange. You really don’t know who I am?”
“Should I?” she chuckled.
“Ah no no, it’s just that-“ he started stuttering,
embarrassed of his own question. “Of course. Not everyone is going to know
about you.” he thought.
“I didn’t quite catch your name.”
“Oh it’s Taehyung, nice to meet you.” and just now he
noticed that he was holding her hand the whole time. “I’m sorry.” he said
quickly letting go of it.
“It’s okay.” she smiled again. “Do you like music?”
“Yeah! I love music! I’m a singer myself.” he blurted and
then realized what he said. Somehow he didn’t yet want her to know that he
belonged in a group. “But I just sing to myself and such, not like I’m a pro or
anything, you know.” he tried to explain.
“That’s amazing!! We should definitely try singing together
“That would be great.” he said as he checked the time. “Oh
shoot. I was supposed to be back 2 hours ago.” he thought.
“In a hurry?”
“Kind of. Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Where else.” she said but Taehyung didn’t take it into
consideration that time and just quickly waved her goodbye and rushed back.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her but their schedules
became so packed that he couldn’t go see her for almost 2 weeks. Sad that he
probably missed his chance, he still wandered into the park. Maybe. Just maybe
she will be there.
He was more surprised not by the fact that she was there but
because she was actually sleeping on the same bench he always saw her singing
on. He then noticed she was wearing the same clothes from their last meeting.
Concerned he approached. He took his jacket off and put it on her but as he was
looking at her face she woke up.
“Taehyung!?” she gasped. “Oh gosh, this is embarrassing.”
“Y/N, are you okay? Why are you sleeping here? It’s already
really late outside.”
“Because I don’t have where to go.” she said averting her
gaze to the ground. She held onto Taehyung’s jacket and started crying.
Only then did he realize that the owner of this angelic
voice was actually homeless. He had so many questions as to what happened
because she looked about his age but decided to leave them for later and just
sat down and took her in his arms.
“I’m sorry.” was all he could say but that was enough as she
hugged him back and cried till there was nothing left. Her breathing slowed
down and Taehyung noticed that she fell asleep.
“How cute.” he thought wiping the tears away from her face.
“I can’t leave her here.” he told himself as he picked her up and put her on
his back. “She can stay with me for as long as she wants.” he decided, heading
in the direction of the dorm.
Formalities precede them , they always had , they always will . A lifetime lead by knowing who you are , and what it meant played an equal part in how it defines them . A bastard , now King in the North , a beggar Queen , now rode the backs of dragons while men in droves , bent the knee. It wasn’t meant to be poetic , necessarily , their ascension ; but it had been, hadn’t it ? Daenerys felt the cold cut of winter sifting through the salt in the ocean’s breeze , it would have been soothing – which was why’d she sought it out at all, standing on the stone hewn balcony with her face turned into the wind — only that it’s not , it serves solely as a sobering reminder of what their cause now faced .
From the promt, number 12 "You need to stop.." With Connverse please<3
“Okay,” Steven said, picking up another flashcard, “what
are the four lobes of the brain - ”
“Frontal, parietal, occipital, and temporal,” Connie answered before
she even took a second to breathe. Meanwhile, her fingers rested on her temple.
She was leaning against her bed’s headboard while he rested by
her feet, on his stomach. They were comfortable, relaxed in each other’s
presence. It was hot for a spring day, and the Maheswaran household had a rule
about using the AC before the summer months, so the pair wore their summer
clothes: she wore running shorts and a tank top, while he still wore his iconic
star shirt and shorts.
“That’s correct!” Steven said, thrilled and impressed, as he
flipped over the flashcard.
Connie smiled as she watched him. “Thanks for helping me
study for my final.” She took her AP Psychology final and her junior year of
high school very seriously.
“You’re very welcome!” He said, straightening the cards in his
hand. He looked up at her, smirking, “Though it doesn’t seem
like you need my help.”
She smiled at his compliment but shook her head. “No,
you’re really helping.”
“Okay, next question,” he looked down at the flashcard then back
up at Connie to see if she was ready. She was holding both her temples.
“You okay?” He asked.
She looked surprised that he noticed, then she waved out her
hand. “Just a headache. I’m fine.”
He set down the cards and propped up his body with his
arms. “Maybe we should take a break.”
“No! Seriously, I’m fine.”
He pursed his lips. He propped himself to sit up. “I could
She raised her eyebrows.
He pointed at his lips. “Healing spit.”
“Oh,” she said. She looked hesitant for a moment before
He got on all fours. He moved quickly, too quickly to think or
plan the most comfortable option; he set his arm by her hip to steady himself,
then he leaned over her body to reach her forehead. But just as quickly as he
moved in, he licked his lips, kissed her forehead, then moved back to sit on
Immediately, her head felt better. She put her hand to her forehead. “Thanks,
She chuckled as a question popped into her head. “Are all
your kisses magical?”
He looked up, pondering. “I’m not sure.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “What if you kissed places that
didn’t need healing? Would nothing happen, or would like some super-healing
thing happen? Would they be invincible for like a week?”
He laughed. “I don’t know. I figure out the magical stuff on
kind of a case-by-case basis.”
Her face felt hot before she even spoke up. She thought about
how close he had just been, leaning over her, and how soft his kiss was. She
dared herself to whisper, “We could find out.”
His body tensed. He spoke slowly. “What do you mean?”
She tried to choose her words carefully. Her eyes darted from
his face to looking up as she weighed each word. “We could see what
happens when you kiss places that aren’t necessarily hurt.”
He was still frozen, so she said, “An experiment. For science.”
“Right,” he said, blinking his eyes. “For science. Maybe -
we fight some monsters someday, and I need to know if I can use my healing spit
as armor for my comrades.”
“Or! If your healing spit can work like a vaccine that can keep
people from getting sick before they even get in contact with any germs?”
“Yeah,” he said, licking his lips again, “for science,
As she moved down from the headboard and down to rest her head
on her pillow, she said back, “For science.”
After a pause, he fidgeted with his hands. “I…I guess I
can start with your toes.”
She felt a slight panic go through her core. She felt this panic
whenever she couldn’t predict an outcome - this felt like a gamble, a million
dollar bet on the underdog, as she wasn’t sure what to expect - or what could
happen to her friendship with Steven.
But if her training had taught her anything, it was courage,
confidence, that she could make a decision and follow through with it. Her
panic subsided, and his lips pressed against her big toe.
She closed her eyes and felt
his kisses move from her foot to her ankle. He moved up slowly, following a
straight line up her left leg.
He took a breath at her knee,
his nose touching her lower thigh.
She inhaled through her nose.
She wondered what would happen now that he was moving to more sensitive skin,
and his pause seemed to show he was wondering the same thing.
As he kissed up her thigh,
the straight line curved: he found her inner thigh.
She breathed out. His kisses
tickled her skin as his lips moved up her inner thigh.
He kissed at her lower
stomach, just the visible skin where her shirt had ridden up. She pulled
her shirt up a little, just enough to show her belly button, to give him more
skin to kiss.
He moved from her stomach to
her fingers that still rested on her shirt. He kissed up her wrist, up her forearm,
her upperarm, and her shoulder.
He kissed her collar bone. “How
does it feel?”
“Good,” she replied, nearly
forgetting the hypothesis they were testing. She let out another breath as his
lips moved up the side of her neck.
“Do you feel better? Any
different?” He asked, sitting up.
She sat up, too, remembering
the purpose now that she was out of the moment. “Oh. Well, honestly, I don’t feel
much different. I mean,” she examined her fingers, “I did have this tiny scar
on my thumb, and it looks like it might be gone. But, otherwise, I kinda just
feel the same.”
“Oh,” he said then pursed his
lips. “Well, I guess now we know, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said. Her eyes noticed
his forearm, and she wondered what he felt like. She said quickly, before she
could think of any consequences, “Or maybe we need a control.”
“Control?” He asked.
She leaned her weight on her
arm, trying to look relaxed. “In an experiment, you need a control to show what
something would look like normally, and then you have something to compare the
When he still didn’t look
like he got where she was going with it, she said, “Maybe you could be the
control. You know, just to see if maybe my kisses feel different from yours.”
He froze for a moment as his
eyes widened. He then said, “Okay,” and flopped down on the bed.
She giggled, red rising in
her cheeks, as she told him to move to the pillows. And when he was laying
where she had laid during her turn, she kissed his ankle.
She moved quicker than he had, kissing the main parts of his body first: his shin, his knee,
his lower thigh. She kissed his fingers, his hand, his forearm and upperarm,
but she was more focused on moving upward.
She made sure to kiss every
inch of his neck. He breathed out, and he put his hands on her back.
But as she continued, he
began to giggle.
“You need to stop,” he
“What?” She asked as she
moved away from his neck. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he said, rubbing her
back, “it’s just tickling me.”
“Oh,” she said, blushing. “Well,
before the tickling…how did it feel?”
“It felt good,” he said, then chuckled, “I
mean, it doesn’t feel like gem magic or healing spit, so, uh, I think this
experiment might have been a failure.”
“Not a complete failure,” she
said. She stayed close to his face, ready to kiss him again if needed. “Now we
“Minseok, I need you to get dressed in your best tux and get down to the Ivy Club Hotel - asap.”
Word count: 1,3K
“So,” Your mother’s voice sounds loudly into the room as you are in the midle of slipping on your short, nude cocktail dress. You yelp, your head turning quickly in her direction as she looks weirdly at you.
“Mom, privacy,” You laugh nervously. “you know - it’s a thing.”
She doesn’t laugh. “have you invited your boyfriend to the wedding? I would really love to meet him.”
Plot: Part two of ‘What’s My Name?’ where the reader is scared because of the wizarding war, and Sirius is comforting her.
Word count: 1555 Disclaimer: I don’t own anything recognisable. Warning: Swearing
The book in her lap felt heavy against her skin, but it was nothing compared to the eyes following her; crushing her. She tried to focus on the people in front of her. James Potter and Sirius Black had officially become her friends one month ago, because of an accidental run in with the dark and mysterious boy from the house of Black. Not that he’s that mysterious once one gets to know him – way to talkative.
(Y/N) looked at the boys arguing over what colour a shrinking solution turns.
“I brewed one with Remus in fourth year, and it turned red,” Sirius claimed.
“Nah, that was a laugh-inducing potion, you wanker, shrinking solutions is blue,” James protested.
“Oh, shut up, Prongs, I know my potions,” Sirius laughed.
“If you did, you would know the answer is blue and not bloody red,” James closed the book, and the sound of the pages smacking together caused Madam Pince to eye them with care.
(Y/N) licked her lips, smiling amused at the Gryffindors, “Actually the right answer is green,” (Y/N) pointed out.
“Really?” Sirius asked.
“No, it’s blue.”
“No, it’s green.”
“I think she might be right, Jamesy,” Sirius took her side quickly, he usually did.
“Fine, I don’t really care, just never call me that again,” James pretended to shiver with disgust.
As she began to laugh at the ridiculous act, a small piece of paper shaped like a bird landed in front of her. She unfolded it cautiously. When she read the note, her head turned quickly. A pair of sixth-year students sat facing her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; they were just sending her short, seemingly innocent glances now and then. The note, on the other hand, told another story.
Mudblood. The word stung.
Mudblood. She’d heard it before. Of course, she had, it’s what she was after all, but she’d imagined her last year at Hogwarts to be different. Less judgemental.
“What’s that?” Sirius asked her once he noticed the paper in her hand.
“Nothing, just a reminder to hand in the potions book before eight tonight, you know how Madam Pince gets if a book goes missing,” (Y/N) lied. It was easier if they didn’t know, they had enough on their plates already.
“Yeah, she’s a bit off her trolly, right?” James snickered.
“Once, she hunted me down in the infirmary because I hadn’t handed in a book I borrowed,” Sirius told them.
“Padfoot..” James shook his head, “First of all, Peter was the one lying in the infirmary bed, and second, you stole the book from the forbidden section,” James rolled his eyes, exposing his best friend.
“Restricted section, there’s a difference. And I know that, Prongs, but (Y/N) over her, she didn’t know that, and now my story is not so exciting anymore.”
“Wasn’t that exciting to begin with, Sirius,” (Y/N) winked at him as his face turned into a pained expression.
“No,” the red-haired girl exclaimed angry, “No, they did not!”
(Y/N) hushed her, looking around the hallway to see if anyone heard them.
“Don’t talk so loud, Lily,” she didn’t mean for the words to come out as harsh as they did, but her anxiety took hold of her emotions.
“Nobody’s here, (Y/N),” Lily tried to reassure the Hufflepuff girl, but it didn’t work.
“This is Hogwarts, Lily; the walls could have ears for all we know,” she used her fingers to straighten out her hair as she spoke.
“Okay, sorry,” Lily said, but the apology was obviously quite half-hearted.
(Y/N) had a feeling Lily acted courageously because that was the only way her friends had ever seen her. She played pretend whenever the topic of rising muggleborn deaths was brought up, or when Voldemort covered the first page of The Daily Prophet. She couldn’t bring herself to be scared because it didn’t fit her strong image.
“I believe you’re overreacting, (Y/N), as you said, this is Hogwarts, nothing bad is going to happen to us here,” Lily touched the girl’s shoulder, squeezing tight.
(Y/N) shook her head, “But there’s a world outside of Hogwarts, Lily, and I want to live in it.”
She moved quickly across the corridor. Blending into the shadows of the many lights that flickered beautifully, illuminating her skin. She passed a paper flowing magically through the hallway; it had names written in black ink on its white surface. (Y/N)’s name was the third name on the list. A list of all the muggleborn students at the school. Funny.
The professors had tried to take down the horrible list that some of the pureblood-supremacist students had hung up all over the school two weeks ago, but each time one disappeared, another paper replaced it.
When (Y/N) started her last year at Hogwarts, she had not been optimistic, rather the opposite, but nothing could prepare the muggleborn girl for a year like this. She was a decease trapped within the walls of this magical castle. And no one understood her constant fear.
After the war broke out it had been insufferable to be what (Y/N) was. Born with the wrong blood.
She tried her best to hide her fear, but the truth was that every day felt like it might be her last. Evil eyes followed her every move. The note she’d gotten was nothing compared to the constant feeling of being hunted.
“(Y/L/N)!” A boy with green robes stopped her in her tracks.
“Malfoy,” (Y/N) greeted him coldly.
“Where’s your Gryffindork gang when you need them, Mudblood?” the girl behind him asked, laughing in a high pitch.
“I don’t need anyone.”
“Ahh, you sure about that?” Bellatrix asked, drawing her wand from inside her robes. Quickly, a jet of red light blasted towards the Hufflepuff girl, and she barely managed to dodge the spell.
“Are you out of your mind?” She yelled at the Slytherin.
(Y/N) fished out her wand from her back pocket, casting a spell that hit the white-haired boy in the chest. He started to move uncontrollably around the corridor, a shocked expression on his face, turning angry.
Another jet of light zoomed towards her, and this time it hit her leg.
“(Y/N)!” someone yelled behind her as she tripped, crashing towards the floor.
The Slytherin students turned, running away as fast as the voices of (Y/N)’s friends could be heard behind the girl.
“I’m fine,” (Y/N) snapped at James as he tried to help her up.
“I can’t believe those cunts,” Sirius called out.
“They’re not getting away with this,” Peter looked at the girl, his voice upset.
“I said, I’m fine!” (Y/N) cut their banter off.
“(Y/N),” Sirius mumbled, his hand touching hers. She stepped back.
“It’s okay to be upset, but don’t take it out on the boys, they are only trying to help,” Sirius told her, trying to calm her down. Unfortunately, it did the opposite.
“You know what? Fuck James, and fuck you!”
“Um, what?” James looked confused at the girl.
“You both think you know what it’s like, because of what? You’re blood traitors? Is that it? You think you understand how it is to walk down the halls of this bloody awful school, people spitting at you because you’re different. Because you don’t share the same fucking blood as them?”
“We never meant to hurt you, (Y/N), but we’ve all got something you know, something that makes us targets in this war,” James began.
“No, you don’t get to play the victim card here, because it’s too fucking easy for you- you were both born with a safety net wrapped around you.” (Y/N) bit her lip frustrated.
None of the boys said anything; she didn’t know if it was out of anger, or because they understood what she meant through her heated shouting.
“Do you know what it feels like to have people be too afraid to look you in the eyes anymore? Because they are so scared for their lives, of what might happen to them if someone thinks they’ve picked a side?” She asked, looking into the eyes of the boy who’d been there for her for months now.
“I- I..” he tried to find the right words, but nothing came out.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N), but what do you want me to do about it?”
“I want you to..” (Y/N) started her sentence, but there was nothing she could say, nothing he could do.
As Sirius stepped closer to her, touching her upper arm, she rested her forehead against his hand.
“It’s unfair of me to want anything from you,” she confessed, “I’m just so scared, Sirius.”
“Me too,” he nodded, “and before you say anything, I know my situation isn’t anywhere near yours, my blood status is an advantage, but don’t you think for a second we’re not gonna fight for the right cause – the winning cause.”
“Always,” she agreed, “but, I think I should get back, it’s getting late,” it really wasn’t that late, but if (Y/N) stayed for one more second, she would burst out crying.
“I’ll follow you back,” Sirius said, “You know, just in case those arsehole Slytherins come back.”
“I don’t need you to defend me, Sirius,” she smiled.
“I never said you did, I just want to punch Malfoy in the face,” he laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist.
Yuuko was having the best night of her life. Yuuko’s parents were babysitting so she and her husband could party with all the best figure skaters who were in town for her childhood friend and his fiancé who was only her childhood idol and all because said idol was hosting an event at her ice rink.
Her life was beyond great.
And judging by the way Seung Gil was eyeing her husband it was about to get even better.
Synopsis: Was it fate or chance that brought them together? Soonyoung had no idea, but whatever it was, he hoped that it would allow them to meet again.
“Wait here,” Soonyoung muttered, shoving his bag into Jun’s arms. Ignoring his friend’s complaints, he waited for the crossing light to turn green and dashed across the street, pushing through clusters of people. His friends watched in confusion as his black hair bobbed up and down on the crowded sidewalk.
“Excuse me,” Soonyoung said as confidently as he could, tapping the girl on the shoulder. He tried not to let his expression drop when she turned around as he realized it wasn’t the girl he was looking for. She gave him a questioning look and his hand rose to the back of his neck. “Sorry, I uh…I thought you were an old friend of mine,” he explained, fingernails nervously scraping at his skin. “Sorry to disappoint,” she smiled. “Oh, no, you didn’t! I just-” “I’m only kidding. My name’s Jamie, by the way.” “Soonyoung. Nice to meet you.”
He took note of how pretty she was. She was around his age and had hair like Berry, but looked completely different, otherwise. “Same to you. You from around here?” “Nah, I just moved here. Well, that’s what I’m doing now. I’m actually looking for my new apartment.” “Need some help?” He nodded and rattled off the address, hoping she could give him some directions that were easy to follow. “Ah, that place…Just go down this block and make a left. Renovations are going on on the right side of the building, so use the back entrance.” “Thank you,” he grinned. “No problem! But I have to get going. I’m sure I’ll see you around. I do know where you live now, after all,” she joked with a charming smile, causing him to laugh lightly.
“Well, she was cute,” Jun smirked as Soonyoung approached. “Yeah, I guess. She was really nice. Even gave me directions to the apartment.” “That’s all she said? Why’d you rush over there in the first place?,” Minghao inquired. “Because she looked like Berry from behind,” Jun answered knowingly. Soonyoung rolled his eyes and snatched his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. “She looked like someone I knew. It was just a misunderstanding.” “Well, did you at least get her name this time?,” the youngest asked as they continued their trek to Soonyoung’s new home.
“This place is a shit hole,” Jun bluntly stated, looking up at the building. Jamie was right about the renovations going on. This place sure as hell needed it. “Yeah, it’s pretty sus,” Minghao added, glancing at the tagging on the boarded up windows. “What? No, it’s…It’s got character, that’s all,” Soonyoung tried to stay positive. “Maybe it looks better inside.”
Not quite. The three boys headed up the creaky stairs to Soonyoung’s apartment on the third floor. He pulled out his key and unlocked the door, only to have the knob fall off into his hand. “I can fix that.”
Taking a look around, they noticed how bare it was. A single wooden chair with a matching table. A tiny, dusty couch. A noisy fridge and kitchen sink. Dirt covered the floor and the paint was chipped on the walls. “Okay, so it’s a shit hole. But it’s my shit hole.” Minghao and Jun snorted, knowing he didn’t realize what he just said.
“I’ll just give it a new paint job, replace the furniture, and do some minor repair work.” “Your mother would freak out if she knew you were living here,” Minghao noted. “Which is why you’re not going to tell her. As far as she knows, I’m staying at a five star place.” “And she believed that? On your budget?” “Old people don’t understand property value and inflation,” he shrugged. “Well, do you think you can manage surviving like this until we come back this weekend to help you fix this place up?,” Jun asked. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. You guys should probably get going before the train leaves. Thanks for helping me get all this stuff here.”
Soonyoung walked into the restaurant with an eager smile and a bag slung over his shoulder. “You must be Soonyoung!,” a male voice called out to him from the kitchen. “Yes, Sir. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.” “Likewise,” the older man replied, coming out to shake his hand. Soonyoung winced a bit at his firm grip, causing him to chuckle in amusement. “We’ll work on that shake. It’s a bit weak.” “Sorry, Sir.”
Soonyoung’s eyes scanned over the older male’s appearance. He seemed just as intimidating in person as he looked in pictures and sounded over the phone. Tall, burly, dressed in dark clothing, and with a stoic neutral expression.
“Ooh, is this the new one?!,” a feminine voice exclaimed. “Well, isn’t he a cutie? He’ll have the place packed with young girls in no time!” A woman about half the size of the man standing before him emerged from the kitchen. Soonyoung noticed the stark contrast between the two. Her clothing was almost as bright as her warm smile.
“I’m flattered, Ma’am,” he blushed. “You can call me Linda. And I’m sure you already know Mason, here,” she said, gesturing to the man beside her. “Soonyoung, this is my wife and business partner,” Mason said with a faint smile. “Pleased to meet you, Ma-Linda,” he quickly corrected himself. “Pleased to meet you, too, Sweetie. Now how about we give you a tour of the place before we get started with your training?” Soonyoung smiled and nodded, allowing her to lead the way.
“Thank you again for this job, Mason.” “You can call me Sir,” he said politely, but sternly. “Gotcha.”
Three days later, Soonyoung felt that he was finally well adjusted to his new job. Then again, he had only gotten through the easy part. Training went smoothly, but opening night was still about a week away.
“Soonyoung, clean that counter-top! The photographer will be here any minute and I can’t have health inspectors shut down my restaurant before it even opens!,” Mason yelled. Soonyoung grabbed a cloth and some cleaning solution before hopping to it, understanding that Mason was stressed rather than angry. He had gotten used to the yelling, so he really didn’t mind it anymore.
As he wiped down the marble, he heard Mason greeting a woman at the door. “Oh, no, thank you. It’s an honor to be able to cover your restaurant’s opening.” Soonyoung’s head shot up at the sound of a familiar voice. ‘Holy shit…’ He quickly crouched down behind the counter, trying to make sense of what he just saw. ‘Berry. Like right there. After three years….Holy shit,’ he thought, feeling his heart rate speed up.
“Hey, Soonyoung, why are we hiding?.” Linda asked, startling him. “That girl over there. You see her, too, right?,” he asked, just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “Who, the photographer? Yeah, why?” “What the hell are you two doing down there?,” Mason muttered above them as he looked over the counter. “We were just uh…inspecting the floor,” Soonyoung almost stuttered out. Mason looked at his wife with a raised eyebrow. “Yup. Inspecting the floor,” she nodded in agreement. “Alright, whatever,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I want you to come meet _____. She’ll be documenting our preparation for opening night and the event, itself.”
Soonyoung and Linda popped up and dusted themselves off before following Mason to the entrance. The dark haired boy wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, hoping to dry them off a little, but to no avail. “_____, this is Linda, my wife and co-owner.” They exchanged pleasantries and he inwardly swooned at her familiar smile. She hadn’t changed a bit. “And this is Soonyoung, our newest chef. The other workers are all in the back. you’ll meet them soon, as well.” She looked at him and her eyes widened a bit before she recovered. Despite the smile on her face, an arrow shot straight through Soonyoung’s heart when he noticed her eyes reflect a hint of sadness. Was she not happy to see him?
“It’s nice seeing you again, Soonyoung,” she said calmly, extending her hand for him to shake. “You, too, _____,” he smiled, accepting the gesture as his other hand went to the back of his neck. “You two know each other?,” Linda asked. “We’re from the same hometown,” she replied. “Oh, well Soonyoung just moved here. Maybe you could help him out every now and then. He gets lost all the time,” the older woman laughed, causing Soonyoung’s face to turn bright red. “Honey, I think there’s something we need to take care of in the kitchen,” Mason said, grabbing her hand and tugging her with him and ignoring her protesting. “Soonyoung, go on your break,” he added as the couple disappeared into the back. The young boy sighed, making a mental note to thank Mason later.
“I showed up that day,” Soonyoung said quietly. “Soonyoung, we really shouldn’t be discussing this while we’re both working.” “We’re not. I’m on break and you technically haven’t started yet. Just please let me explain,” he pleaded, taking her hand. He noticed her eyes shift to look behind him. “We have an audience,” she mumbled. Turning around, he saw four heads quickly turn in different directions, leaving only Linda still staring at them.
With a sigh, he let her hand go. “Five o’clock; coffee shop down the street,” he suggested. “Fine.”
“And I looked for you and asked around but nobody had seen you…So I figured you just changed your mind,” _____ said, circling her finger over the rim of her cup. “This was all just a huge mistake. I overslept and drooled on the gate number.” “Wait, what?,” she finally cracked a smile. Soonyoung’s heart fluttered at the giggle that escaped her lips. “I…I stayed up for hours thinking about you and ended up oversleeping. Then I woke up with ink on my face. When I got to the station, I tried to find you, but it was too late. I even tried contacting you a few times after that, but it just never seemed to work out. Not to mention I didn’t even know your real name.” “I didn’t know yours either! Why didn’t you have your real name on your name tag?” “Mom’s catering business; Mom’s nickname. So everyone just called me Hoshi.” “What does that mean?” “It means ‘tiger’s gaze’ in Korean. It’s because of my eye shape.” “Oh, I see. It’s odd, but fitting.” “My nickname is odd? Yours is Berry!,” he laughed. “Oh my gosh; only Mina calls me that,” she laughed. “Explain,” Soonyoung sat back in his chair, clearly amused as he took a sip of his coffee.
“When I was in first grade, I went on this class trip where we got to pick strawberries. Mina and I ate them until we got sick and that was the day I found out I was mildly allergic.” “No way,” Soonyoung chortled. “Yeah, they gave me the hives. Mina went and told the teacher I ate so many strawberries that I turned into one and that became my nickname.” “I’m sorry but that is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
The two sat under the dim lighting of the coffee shop and talked until it became dark outside. Soonyoung knew there were a million other things he should have been doing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Because if he did, he would have to return to reality and that was the last thing he wanted.
“Oh yeah, Jun definitely sounds like Mina’s type,” _____ said. Just then, her phone buzzed and she excused herself from the conversation to answer it. And there it was. Reality.
“Sorry, I have to go. My boss needs some prints developed and delivered by midnight,” she explained with a sad smile. “Oh, well, could I…Could I possibly get your number?,” Soonyoung asked nervously. “You got a sharpie?,” she smirked. “How about you just put it in my phone this time?,” he laughed, pulling the device out of his pocket.
Relationship: Dean x OFC Rating: Brief smut Warnings: Mentions of canon events A/N: This is for @pixikinz’s 100 Follower Celebration Challenge. [It was literally months ago and the deadline is tomorrow but I don’t know how to do anything but procrastinate so here it is!]
Summary: Dean meets a girl in a bar and their damaged parts seem to match.
Scar tissue that I wish you saw Sarcastic mister know it all Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you ‘cause With the birds I’ll share With the birds I’ll share This lonely view With the birds I’ll share This lonely view
Dean saw her as soon as he got to the bar, but in the way he saw everyone. He scoped out all the patrons, by habit, the same way his eyes found all the exits, like they did when he entered any given room.
Two hours later, he’d hustled enough pool to set Sam and him up for two weeks which Sam thought was his cue to head out. He’d humoured Dean by having an impressive not one but two beers, so he told him he’d see him back at the motel. Dean wanted to insist for Sam to stay. He wanted to ask him why he’d rather go back to a bed where all he’d do is have nightmares about Jess, instead of having some fun with his brother, or better yet, havingsome fun with any number of pretty young things.
Dean didn’t say any of that. He just watched his brother step outside and when Dean turned his attention back to the bar he saw her again.
She looked pretty and young enough, sitting on a stool and nursing a glass of brown liquor. That’s what drew Dean to her. There were plenty of good looking women in the bar, some that were hotter and looked easier than her, but their drinks were fruity and colourful and like they shouldn’t be served in a run-down place like this. There was nothing wrong with that, but tonight Dean didn’t want to hear anyone giggling in his ear, he didn’t feel like playing a role for them.
The concentrated frown of her brows, the stiffness in her back and, yeah, the way Dean just saw her knock back her drink suddenly only to order another had him thinking that she wasn’t much of a giggler and that she didn’t make it a habit of keeping an eye out for Mr. Right. Which was good, it was perfect, because Dean wasn’t interested in pretending to be anything he knew he would never become.
He made his way over to her unhurriedly, the wood of the floorboards creaking beneath his boots every couple of steps. This joint had seen better days, even for the type of place it was, but it served booze and it was in between the last case they had worked and the next case they’ll work so Dean didn’t have a complaint.
“Hey,” he greeted her, not bothering with his usual, manufactured, charming smile, opting instead for a kind nod.
It didn’t matter either way, she didn’t bother looking up. She just sighed. It wasn’t annoyed or exasperated like she couldn’t be bothered with a guy hitting on her, but it was tired. A tired sigh that Dean recognised himself in.
“Listen,” she started, her voice rougher than he’d expected, but her tone gentle. She sounded like the whiskey in her glass. “I’m not looking to go home with anyone, tonight,” she let him down.
“Yeah okay,” Dean accepted, because maybe he wasn’t looking to go home with anyone tonight anymore either. “Think I can still buy you a drink? Knowing full well that it’ll lead to nothing and nowhere, especially not anyone’s home,” he offered.
Sometimes they just watch each other, exchanging small smiles and unspoken statements, and it’s just desperately, beautifully, blissfully quiet. He can’t remember the last time he had that. She doesn’t think she ever has.
i. The team calls him Barnes and they skitter around him with weary smiles and tense shoulders. The team calls him Barnes and it feels just as unfamiliar and impersonal and harsh as Soldier - a gruff bark buried somewhere in the mess of his memories, an accented greeting of good morning and a steady reply
Good morning, soldier
Ready to comply
Most of the time, Soldier feels more comfortable than Barnes, but he doesn’t want to say so - that would just disappoint Steve, and Steve tries so hard. He reads newspapers with him and calls him Bucky and tries to remind him of their childhood but it all washes over him, like a dream he can’t remember upon waking.
Wanda, though. The girl. The pale shadow in the corner.
She looks at him and she knows.
She looks at him and sees right through him, and he wonders how that could be when he doesn’t even know who he is.
ii. He catches her eye in the field one day. That’s really the extent of their overall interaction. Of course, he’s seen her around the compound, but Wanda’s quiet like him, and they don’t really let her go out, whereas he prefers to walk around New York City, aimlessly, as if trying to find something, anything, to give him some kind of meaning.
But when they do cross each other, they catalogue looks, exchange glances, watch each other with this semblance of earnestness that neither knew they were still capable of. Sometimes they’ll smile once in a while, but he always feels awkward doing it: he doesn’t remember how these conversations - or lack of thereof - are supposed to go. Bucky Barnes was all manners and boyish charm, but then, he’s not really Bucky Barnes anymore.
He knows about her, her power, her abilities, but he can’t say he’s ever felt her sifting through his mind. Of course, he probably wouldn’t know - he knows so little about not only her but the extent of her powers. She could have scrambled his brains and he’d never know the difference, but her eyes are kind and her scarlet dances softly and somehow he doubts she would ever have intruded as such. Besides, there seems somehow more than just knowingness whenever he turns to her and catches her already looking. Sympathy. No. Empathy. Understanding.
So he catches her eye in the field one day, and she’s standing on a building out of the action as she usually is, manipulating from the outskirts. She’s watching him with something like curiosity.
He turns his gaze away.
iii. She finds him hunched over a bowl of cereal at three in the morning one night.
Can’t sleep? She asks lightly, sliding opposite him, and he shakes his head. He doesn’t elaborate more than that, but she recognizes that look in his eyes, as she has for the past few months. It’s a look she’s seen so many times in her own reflection. Worn, darkened, stamped with black and blue.
They sit there in comfortable silence, until finally, Wanda, do you ever go inside my head?
Not if I can help it. I try not to intrude with anyone. It’s just… some thoughts are louder than others. And yours… they howl.
He sucks in a breath sharply, thinks about this a few seconds. I don’t mind if you look. If it’s easier to listen in than… block it out. You can. I just… He chuckles dryly. My memories scare me. I wouldn’t wish to inflict them upon anyone.It might… it’s not… I don’t sleep, It’s… I can’t… it’s so dark in there and I don’t know if maybe you’re right to not want to…
She smiles sadly, Do not think me frail, Sergeant Barnes. I grew up in a third world country ripped apart by civil war, you forget, and he swallows hard. The Winter Soldier was in Sokovia, and he remembers. He remembers everything. And Sokovia was probably the most brutal, violent place he’d ever seen. A fragment flashes through his brains of small children running through the wartorn ghettos, scavenging and begging with wide, sunken eyes, offering anything for a scrap of food. Work. Possessions. Their bodies. He feels ill to think that was how Wanda grew up. He feels ill to think of her as a HYDRA pet, just like him. He notices how her hands shake, the violence of the tremors pulsing out tiny strands of scarlet. He lays his arm out on the table - the one of flesh - so they she may see how they too tremble.
She is quiet a moment before continuing. It’s all mostly images, you know, dreamscapes. Not exact thoughts or memories or… I’m still working on that. I’m not… it’s still so new to me.I don’t know how to do that yet. I’m… I’m never in control. They’re right, what they all say about me, out there. I’m unstable.
She looks so small right then it stirs something inside him he doesn’t recognize, this fierce, protective instinct that feels so foreign to him that his eyes just fix on her, searching. Of course he knows she’s beautiful, objectively. Maybe she was the type of girl he would have once asked on a date. But that was another lifetime.
Why are you looking at me like that? She mumbles, and he reminds himself to look away. It’s rude to stare, a woman’s voice echoes from the shadows of his mind. His mother, maybe. No. Bucky Barnes’ mother.
Nothing. I just… know what you mean. To feel like that. Uh. Unstable.
Her mouth twitches. Yes. I suppose you do.
iv. They mirror each other almost unconsciously. He speaks softly, as she does. She walks with her shoulders hunched, as he does. They sit beside each other, perfectly still, only moving when the other does. He starts spending more time in the compound, feeling a little more tethered. He enjoys her company. Sometimes they sit in silence, and sometimes he tells knock knock jokes and sometimes she reads him her favorite poets and sometimes, when he feels himself slipping into old protocol, she’ll be awake and join him as he patrols the tower, checks for bugs, cleans the guns. The Winter Soldier has no commands, after all.
Sometimes they just watch each other, exchanging small smiles and unspoken statements, and it’s just desperately, beautifully, blissfully quiet. He can’t remember the last time he had that. She doesn’t think she ever has.
v. Steve teased him about it once, the strange tie they shared, the way they moved in perfect synchrony, accompanied one another everywhere, sat shoulder to shoulder, two souls out of time. He shakes his head, says they’re just friends, but the word feels wrong in his mouth. Friend. It didn’t fit. She wasn’t his friend.She wasn’t exactly more, she wasn’t exactly less, but she… she looked a lot like forgiveness. He could use some help with that.
Steve didn’t bring it up again, and he didn’t really think about it again. Friends, more than friends, not friends… the two of them didn’t fit into such moulds. They just…. were.
vi. Their late night conversations are almost routine, and she’s surprised to find him one day lying on the couch, asleep, watching an old black and white film. She watches him, filled with something almost joyful to see him, calm, features unlined and unstrained and peaceful and it’s so rare and so vulnerable that she almost wants to cry, but then he starts to twitch and shake and quiver, his hands curling into fists and she wakes him, shaking him. It’s not real. None of it is real. It’s not real.
His eyes widen, his whole body poised for attack. It is. It is all real.
No. No. You’re safe. You are safe here. You are safe. They don’t own you anymore.
He is quiet. Who are you?
She grasps his hand tightly. It takes him about an hour to come back fully, fragments reappearing fuzzily and slowly, but when it’s all still just a disjointed puzzle he can’t put together, all he knows is this girl who is all sincerity and softness and slim wrists, eyes filled with such concern, speaking as much as they see. Wanda, he says eventually.
Bucky, she echoes.
I’m not him. Bucky Barnes.
He was a hero.
I can’t be.
In the end, it is just a name. You may choose whichever one you wish. You do not have to be the Bucky Barnes to just be… Bucky.
Yes, he relents. He likes the way she says it. She says it without expectation. She says it like it’s a gift she has given him. She says it like he deserves a name, one that does not objectify him.
They remain quiet a little while longer, before she glances up, searching his face. He understands what she’s saying. He doesn’t object.
So she slips into his mind.
Wanda sees everything. She sees it all, in half-cast shadows and nightmarish abstractions of his mind. She sees cruelty in labcoats, heavy chains and blood, maniacal smiles and sharp teeth and pain, just pain, searing and burning and neverending and the tiny, broken animal, wounded and crying and reaching for a light, any light, any relief, make it end please god make it stop make it stop, and faces, so many faces, faces of all the people he has killed screaming and screaming and Bucky keeps shrinking and shrinking and it’s all a mess, it doesn’t make sense, and Wanda’s trying so hard to tame them, make them go away, but she can’t. She’s not there yet. She relents, come back to herself, unaware that she’s left her fingerprints on every memory, every corner of his mind, every stone she has thus far turned over.
Shame colours his cheeks. She doesn’t say anything.
Sleep takes them both eventually. The nightmares come, scalpels and orders and electricity for him and bombs and gunfire and corpses for her, but there is something new in each of their dreams – something in their subconscious, an unseen figure, standing watchful and calm, a guardian. Lithe and graceful and kind for him and sturdy and hunched and tentative for her.
They lie, side by side, in the light of the black and white film, not touching except for the tips of their fingers.
When the sun comes up, they’re both covered in sweat, and they’re both shaking and they’re both terrified of having to face another day carrying around what they carry. But she’s next to him and he’s next to her and they understand and he asks her what she wants for breakfast.
vii. She watches from overhead, as another Winter Soldier grabs Bucky, twisting him and crushing him into the ground, over and over and over and spitting in words in a language she doesn’t recognize, but she’s overcome by such ferocity and fear of losing him and fear of anyone hurting him any more than he’s already been hurt that she finds herself surging forward, through the city and through the people and the rest of the team and she’s rolling the scarlet between her palms, pulling it and tearing as the Winter Soldier, suspended above ground, screeches in pain as she rips the very limbs from his body.
Go, he splutters, rubbing the blood and spit from his mouth. Get out of here. Get out of here now.
But he squeezes her hand roughly, eyes burning.
viii. She puts on Billie Holliday one night after dinner, and there are noises of complaint and objection but he just sits in silence, and something tight and sad twinges in his chest at the familiar croon, the trumpets, and when everyone leaves he says flatly I used to dance to this song. She looks at him, even if he doesn’t meet her eyes, Is that an invitation? It wasn’t - but his lips twinge slightly and he makes his way to her and takes her hand – such a familiar gesture to them both – and takes her in his arms. He’s not sure he remember how to dance and she never has, so they just hold each other, swaying gently.
ix. He loves her. He loves the way she tilts her head, he loves her self-conscious snark and the way she pulls on her sleeves, her terrible guitar playing and the way she understands. Everything about her is hesitant and gentle, her laugh is just like windchimes and he wishes she’d do it more often, and sometimes she floats away and disconnects from reality and she’s so weird and she’s so thrilling and he’s so in love with her and he’s probably always known. He just didn’t realize it until now. It’s not that he hides it from her – but she’s his favorite thing about himself and he doesn’t want to taint it by all the years had stolen from him. He doesn’t tell her.
x. She knocks on the door twice at the sound of the first thump. Bucky? There’s merely a groan in response, and she feels the pull in her chest and pushes the door open tentatively. He’s in the corner, curled up with his head in his hands, rocking back and forth mumbling incoherently too fast in too many languages. His head snaps around, eyes wild and desperate and darkened, but there’s a flash of recognition and he chokes out get out of here, girl but she remains planted. Every instinct within her lurches, telling her to run, get out, he doesn’t know her really, and she’s afraid. She’s so afraid, afraid like she was all those years ago in her apartment with her brother waiting to die, waiting for the bomb reading Stark Industries to blow up and kill them. She was waiting for it to explode. And she is waiting for Bucky to explode. A time-bomb.
She sits next to him as he trembles. He keeps telling her to leave, begging her, and at some point he starts spluttering the same sound over and over, the same sound and she can’t make it out but it gets louder and louder and she realizes he’s saying wandawandawandawandawanda and he’s crying and she’s crying and she reaches out to touch him but he can’t stop flinching and she lets herself in his head, pushes through the thorns and glass and barbed wire, all the faces of the dead and the living and the cruel all rushing towards him, replays all the people he killed over and over again, and she tries to take some of the burden, tries to change it, but again, she can’t. She never can.
The tremors stop eventually.
You don’t have to go in my head, Wanda, he tells her. He can feel her when she’s there now. I know it makes you sad.
She’s quiet for a moment. I’m sorry.
I don’t mind. But you carry around so much pain with you already, I don’t need you to carry mine.
I can’t help it. Even if I didn’t, I still carry your pain, she tells him pointedly. As you carry mine.
He grunts in agreement.
But, she begins, tears springing to her eyes, What I meant was… I’m sorry I can never fix it.
xi. They are just blood and bones and shrapnel, having used the remaining strength in their battered bodies to save each other one last time. The sky splinters through the cloud of dust, and he clasps her hand with such fierceness it almost makes the pain from her wounds go away. Almost. He tries to splutter some kind of goodbye, something that will have made this all mean something, how it had been she, the girl with the trembling hands that contained so much power, she, the patient gardener and protector of dreams, she who had been the only one to have seen his ruined, bloody heart and still look at it the same way in the morning. But the air is getting thicker and the blood in his throat holds him choked and all that comes out are a series of desperate, indecipherable whimpers. Bombs are falling. There’s fire everywhere. And she’s crying and telling him “I was practising. I was practising. I was going to get better with my powers… I was going to try and take away the nightmares… I…. I just wanted for you… to sleep.” And then he’s crying, because maybe they are all just blood and bones and shrapnel and maybe none of this meant anything, they never meant anything, and right before she goes under he says, “I love you,” and everything goes quiet, the same kind of quiet that being near him always bought her, that blissful, impossible silence that he never got to hold onto until her, and it’s precious and it’s kind and it’s finite and she turns her head and says, “I know,” and the last thing Bucky hears before the blackness comes is Wanda’s voice over and over, “Whatever comes next, whatever happens, I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you, I lov-”
Akaashi likes to watch Bokuto carrying Kenji (cause he does that thing dads do when carrying kids when they only use one hand and it makes him look really strong and Akaashi doesn’t really understand why he likes it but damn!!)
“I know you’ll do great,” she smiled, resurring him.
She reach forward and brushing a piece of grass off of from his shoulder.
He grinned down at her, watching her as she glanced around.
“Front row,” she answered affirmatively. “You’ll see me. Cheering for you, even if I don’t wear any of your colours. You’ll see that t later.”
“Good.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead before pulling away with a smile.
“I’ll see you.”
She nodded, a small smile on her lips. “Later.”
As he jogged away to warm up with the rest of the team, she stayed by the sidelines, watching. After a moment, a member of the other team approached her, and she turned to greet him.
“Hi,” he grinned through his helmet, flashing white teeth.
she smiled politely. “Hi… Ron, you didn’t need to greet me I’m your friend.” she looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to get to the point.
He tossed his lacrosse stick from hand to hand absently as he watched her. “I just noticed you over here and decided to come say hi.”
“Well hello, you just ignored what I just said and start to lamely flirt with me huh?” she replied, turning her body away. She thought about a way to push him away gracefully, who thought having Draco looking her way and see her best friend flirt.
“Good luck in the game, I look forward to seeing my boyfriend beat you.” Her voice was light, joking, but there was an undertone of seriousness.
He laughed, adjusting his helmet. “No offense, but his team is not going to beat us.”
She raised your eyebrows, turning back to face him straight on. “I don’t think so.”
He mimicked her, raising one eyebrow as he tilted his head to the side. He took a small step forward, moving closer to her slowly. He stopped when the front of his helmet was about an inch from her nose. She could see his eyes in detail now, the way they held a kind of confidence, like they never had before.
“I think so,” he replied softly, meeting her eyes.
It was as if she were locked into staring at him; there was something about him that made it so that she couldn’t look away, couldn’t move. Although she wanted to. Because she’s with Draco, not this cocky friend she knew from first year and in the other team, she was supposed to cheer for.
“No, I know he’ll win.” she mumbled, still searing into his eyes.
“Excuse me,” a voice came from behind her, and she immediately recognized it as Draco’s. “Can we help you with something?”
Ron leaned back in surprise, slightly startled by the sudden appearance. Draco’s arm snaked around her waist and tugged her back towards him, and she willingly melted into his side, wrapping an arm around his torso and letting her cheek rest on his green covered chest.
“We?” Ron asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Yes, we,” Draco answered, his voice cold and unappreciative. “She’s with me. Remember Weasley? You do remember right, you know in that tiny space of a brain you call in your head, that she’s going out with me, not you, me.”
She looked up at Ron with a small nod. She could tell that he was annoyed, having been turned away by her and called out by her boyfriend. He let out a small snort.
“Have something you want to say?” Draco asked, cocking his head at the red head.
She glanced up at him, shaking her head with a small motion as herr fingers tightened around his shirt.
“Draco, no,” she whispered.
Ron raised his eyebrows, leaning on his broom. “Oh, nothing, just wondering why a girl like her, in Gryffindor, smart and not a Pureblood would pick and date a guy like you.”
She could feel the way Draco bristled with anger, instinctively shifting forward. Her grip on his shirt tightened, and she let herself slide slightly more in front of him. She knew that if the redhead kept egging him on, this wasn’t going to end well.
“It’s because you let a beautiful, smart and kind woman go and slept with that flower girl, and I was there to pick up the pieces. Not you, but me. I would never treat her like what you did. And I don’t care if she’s Pureblood or not, I like her the way she is.”
“Aw and stop it,” she hissed at her boyfriend not wanting a fight between her friend and boyfriend start before the game, she then looked to Ron as he opened his mouth wanting to say something, but she interrupted him. “Get out of here.”
He shook his head with another cocky laugh before meandering back to his team. Draco’s shoulders heaved with angry breath, his cheeks pink on his pale face, she turned back to him, resting her palms on his chest as she rolled up onto her tiptoes so that she was eye level with him.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Look at me.”
He shifted his eyes from Ron back to her, and she nodded. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m staying right here.”
“He was all up on you,” he huffed with irritation.
“I know, I know. But I’m all up on you,” she answered, moving closer until their chests touched.
Draco’s eyes flickered down before meeting her eyes once more.
“I’m yours. And a dick of a Weasel isn’t going to change that. Even though he’s one of my best friends.” With that, she leaned forward, letting their lips brush over each others.
A low hum came from his chest and he tilted his chin up, connecting her lips. His hands slid to her waist as he kissed her with a claiming vengeance. When he pulled away, they were both smiling, and as he went back to the field, he knew her words had been true; she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
At the other side of the green field, the dark haired boy, with round glasses talked with his friend as the redhead walked arrogantly to his teammates. “What were you doing, Ron?”
“Trying to get her back.”
“Can’t you see how happy she is?”
“Are you saying she wasn’t happy when we were going out?”
“She was. But you cheated on her with Lavender. You don’t deserve Hermione anymore, I don’t care if you’re my friend Ron. But Hermione is too, and I think Draco is perfect for her. She’s happy, and I’m happy for her.”
Ron huffed and walked out the field to the locker rooms, glaring at the couple on the right of him, as Draco Malfoy lets go of Hermione Granger to his team mates.
A/n: Part six is up lovely readers! I’ll admit, Luke’s part is longer than the others, I don’t know man, I started with his so I got carried away. what can I do hehe. enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated, and if you have any suggestions for the next parts then hit me up!
Spotting the tall figure at the end of the
hall, (y/n) ran with a smile tugging on her lips. She hadn’t seen Luke all
morning, although the two walked to school that same day. He had disappeared
right after they entered school, and had not attended their shared classes.
Running towards him, she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, whilst
he was taking out his books from his locker.
“Hey! Where’ve you been?” she
chirped, unwrapping her arms from his, failing however to notice how frigid his
stature was. “Nevermind, I have so much
to tell you! You literally missed the best thing ever!”
started pouring out how their Maths teacher pranked Jace, a fellow classmate who
was sleeping in through the class, and then resulted into chewing him out. Her
fast talking and overly excited attitude, which he usually found very
up-lifting, was rather irritating at the moment.
“Will you just shut it?” he
growled at her, his words coming out harsher than anything he has ever said to
her. Her words got stuck in her throat upon hearing his cold dismissal, her
eyes blinking at him in perplexity.
“Excuse me?” her voice came out weaker than
she hoped, her whisper barely audible to him. She didn’t know what could’ve
possibly triggered that reaction from him, only aware of how much it stung.
“Look, I’m not in the fucking mood to listen to this, so fucking drop it!” Luke
turned to face her, the harsh slam of his locker mimicking the weight of his
words. But whilst his first outburst had left her bewildered, his next words
made her burn with fury.
“Don’t you dare swear at me like that! Especially
since I haven’t done anything wrong to you!” she pointed her index finger at
him, her eyes staring at him with so much ferocity he almost stumbled back.
Bumping his shoulder, she walked past him, rage laced with hurt radiating from
her. The previous fire that burned with frustration was put out by her words,
leaving behind ashes of distress and guilt as soon as he realised that he had
lashed out on the wrong person. He had in no way intended to utter those words;
he’d actually hoped that they’d both get to hang out during lunch, that being
the only appealing thought that got him through the dreadful morning.
Taking a seat in the crowded cafeteria, she
struggled to swallow her food. Her mind kept drifting to Luke, her mind quickly
noting how he was no where to be seen although his friends were sat at their
usual table. She knew for a fact that he didn’t get at chance to have breakfast
because he slept in; being aware of that, she couldn’t eat in peace without
feeling guilty that he wasn’t. Not that it was any of her fault, she reminded
herself, yet the thought of him starving somewhere and feeling pissy didn’t
really appeal to her. Gradually, culpability washed over her once she began
questionning the whole situation, quickly understanding that there was something
that bothered him enough to make him act the way he did. How could she not
realize it as soon as she saw him? He had never let her suffer from the aftermath
of his problems; so him doing that for the first time alarmed her in a way.
A few grumbled curses escaped Luke’s mouth
as his stomach grumbled for the upteenth time. He mentally scolded himself for
skipping lunch, but he knew that had he attended, he would’ve definitely taken
his frustration either on his friends or on some innocent freshmen. And since
he had already let it affect (y/n) that morning, he didn’t really want to add
another one to that list.
Lying on the grass with closed eyes, Luke only looked
up once he felt someone sit next to him. A smiling (y/n) was definitely not
what he expected.
“Hey, grumpy neighbour!” she saluted him, earning a weary
glance from him. Why was she being nice?
He was sure that she was very pissed last time he saw her. Before he could
mutter any words, she handed him a plastic plate. He just then noticed that she
was holding one in her hand as well. He looked down at the crap school burger
she handed him, yet in his hungry state, it seemed like the best gift ever.
Luke took a huge bite of out the burger, the lump forming in the back of his
throat making it harder for him to chew or swallow. He was overwhelmed by waves
of emotion; the simple yet meaningful gesture making his heart swell as tears
he refused to show stung his tired eyes. He wanted to scream out a thank you to her,
he wanted to not only apologize for being a dickhead, but also because he knew
just how much she endured for him. It wasn’t fair.
Instead, he diverted the
subject once he was done with his food; “I can’t walk you home today, I’m not
going home.” He sent her an apologetic look, even though it wasn’t the first
time and surely not the last she’d be walking home on her own.
“Do you want me
to tell your mom? In case she worries or…” (y/n) trailed off once she saw how
Luke bit his lip and turned his face away, the actions declaring that she might
have hit a nerve.
“No. Don’t worry though; I’ll be at Calum’s.” His response
was simple, limited, brief. He hadn’t really informed Calum yet, but he knew
that his house was always welcoming. He didn’t want to stay at Ashton’s to not
bother his younger siblings, and quite frankly Michael’s mother scared him
He saw the look in (y/n)’s eyes; he saw the concern and the
uneasiness, he saw her desire to ask him more, he noticed how she held herself
back instead of doing as she wished. It wasn’t fair. Luke knew how much of
a burden he was, the realisation flooding him with shame; he was conscious of
the fact that he continuously drags her into his own issues yet never really
tells her anything about it. And he was no doubtedly, exceptionally thankful for
her sole presence in his life. She was the blinding sunshine to his rainy days.
He didn’t want to leave her hanging without an explication; he didn’t want to
cause her any more distress, but he didn’t really know where to start. Where do
you begin telling a story with neither beginning nor an ending?
He ran a rough
hand through his blond locks, an exasperate sigh leaving his parted lips. “I
got held back by the principal this morning.” He confessed, and it was quite
puzzling for (y/n). Not in the ‘Oh my god!” way, but rather in the “That’s it?”
way. In all honesty, Luke getting in trouble with the principal wasn’t a first,
why would it make him that pissed?
“That shithead called my mom in.” he added
with a shake on his head, the story slowly becoming clearer to her. Luke
carried on, a dark glare prominently showing in his ctystal blues “Some dumbass
crashed Coach’s car, and somehow blaming me seemed easier than looking for the
one who did it!”
Luke wanted to carry on, tell her how his mother believed that
he was responsible for that, how he didn’t even fight to justify himself, how
he refused to show his heartbreak as he slowly started to believe that he’d
never stop making his mom feel disappointed.
“I don’t believe her though,” (y/n) broke him out of his self-pitying
thoughts; her words making him raise a questionning eyebrow at her. Chuckling at
the look he was giving her, “I know for a fact that if it were you, you’d
proudly take the blame for it! I mean, crashing a car! You’d probably show it
off in front of everyone!” Luke finally cracked a smile at her words; she was a
Having accomplished her goal, (y/n)
lightly ruffled his hair with a fond smile, her very instincts ushering her to
protect the boy at all costs. She wanted to take away all of the frustration
she knew he felt, she wanted to provide the same comfort he provided for her, if
not more. But at the moment, she could only feel grateful that, for the first
time, Luke had opened up to her in a way she hadn’t expected. Maybe that meant
“Babe, come on, just a second.” Calum whined
like a child, lying on his stomach next to (y/n) on her bed. He had visited her
in the unfortunate time she called doing homework, which by default meant she
was not getting distracted by him. But it wasn’t just any homework; it was that
stupid Litterature paper she had kept postponing until last minute.
she was, struggling to get it done as well as prepare for the next exam in that
class. She had never hated a class that much, and it was draining her out.
was definitely not helping, his sole presence too much of a distraction for
her, his touch and words making her lose concentration. The puppy eyes he kept
giving her almost made her give in, his fingers playing with the ends of her
hair momentarily making her stop working. “You can’t ignore me forever darling,
just take a little break for me?”
This time, he had gone further, lying on top
of her papers in order to gain her attention. That last straw finally earning
him a reaction; just not the one he had hoped for.
“Fucking hell Calum! You’re
being a royal pain right now so cut it!” she hissed at him, eyes closed in
rage, not noticing how she was releasing her stress on him. Calum calmly got up
from the bed, exiting her room in utter silence.
Trying to get back to work,
she was thankful for the new found silence, yet couldn’t think of anything
besides the guilt that was filling up her edges. She couldn’t help overthinking
about his slience; overall, his whole composure scared her. “Focus!” She yelled at herself, growing more and more
exasperate due to her lack of concentration. She knew that she wouldn’t be able
to get any work done, not as long as Calum was mad at her, not as long as she
didn’t know where he was.
Hopping off her bed with a thud, she ran out of room determined
to chase after him, to apologize for her unfairness. What she didn’t expect was
to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, eyes fixed on the TV. Slumping
her shoulders in relief, she walked towards him, plopping next to him.
she whispered to him, her eyes scanning over his face. No response. (y/n)
looked down at her lap, her heart sinking once she didn’t get an answer from
“I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m struggling with homework, and you were
distracting me, and I know it’s not an excu-“
“I’m not mad cause you snapped at
me.” Calum stopped her rambling, his head whipping around to face her, his
“Why are you mad then?” she looked up to meet his eyes,
a frown etched upon her face. Calum reached out to lace his fingers with hers,
his eyes diverting towards their intertwined hands.
“You’re supposed to come to
me if something’s bothering you. I know nothing about this whole relationship
thing, but I do know that a good boyfriend should do that much.” (y/n)’s heart
fluttered at his nervous words, the boy in front of her never ceasing to amaze
“Cal, you are a good boyfriend.” She cooed at him, the word ‘boyfriend’
still making her giddy as she spoke it. They were still new to the whole thing,
both of them caring deeply about eachother enough to want it to work. “I should’ve
told you, I’m sorry” she smiled sheepishly at him, him mimicking her instantly.
“How about I let you study in peace, but once you’re done I get to have your
undevided attention?” he bargained, his face leaning in. Dodging his lips and
pecking his nose instead, (y/n) nodded her head, chuckling at his adorable pout.
Surely, he had let her work her homework in peace, before dragging her back to
the couch in order to watch some random movie he picked.
“I worked really hard for that stupid test!
It’s not fair for her to grade it that way!”
(y/n) sat next to Michael by her locker, she couldn’t stop complaining
about the latest test they took. She reeked of disappointment and anger, their
English teacher being the subject of her threats. She had worked hard through
her endless chifts at the Café and managed to prepare for it despite the amount
of schoolwork she was drowning in, so no, getting a C+ wasn’t satisfying enough
for her, not when she was aware of her hard work.
Michael rolled his eyes at
her, his eyes turning dangerously dark as he faced her. “Oh, for fuck’s sake
(y/n)! You messed up a test, you’ll be able to make it up later on so will you
stop it with your complaining? It’s been hours!” he blurted out, his hand
throwing his backpack over his shoulder as he turned around to leave.
her locker, she was left with her mouth wide open, heart beating against her
ribcage in the most painful way ever. Michael. Michael had never said such a
thing to her, not after they became friends, not after she opened up to him.
True, she has been complaining for a while, but Michael seemed to listen.
Besides, he has never really stopped her when she was talking, knowing how that
made her feel.
Michael’s mood was making him more
aggravated than usual, even the simplest thing managed to get him off. But only
upon hearing the shaky breath (y/n) took in had he realized what he had done.
How could he have said those things to her? It wasn’t right to make her a
victim of his low mood, nor was it acceptable to tell her that when he had
witenessed just how hard she worked.
Abrubtly turning on his heels, he turned
back towards her choking out his words “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying
what I did, I honestly didn’t mean it. But my mind’s a bloody mess right now,
and things are just not right…” Michael rambled, his eyes betraying the inner
hurricane he was trying to supress.
(y/n) gingerly took Michael’s hand in her,
offering him a little smile before pulling him towards the exit. But she hadn’t
even taken two steps before he abruptly planted his feet on the groud, stopping
her from moving. He tugged he back, his eyes silently questionning her. She
sighed, moving closer to him; “You’re in a bad mood. Being in school will only
make it worse, so… Why don’t we just get out?” she hinted with a sly smile on
“You? Are asking me? To skip?” Michael’s smirk grew wider, the
thought her skipping with him making him a little surprised since she had
declined the offer every single time he mentionned it. (y/n) hummed in
response, her hands tugging his, urging him to start moving.
And he almost
does. He almost allows himself to follow her until his mind brings up the one
thing he was scared shitless of; he didn’t to add her to the list of things his
Admittedly, he had asked her himself to do so before, but having
her actually say yes to the offer wasn’t as satisfying as he thought it’d be;
he wouldn’t bare the thought of corrupting her, fearing that he’d turn her into
the Fuckup he somehow convinced himself he was.
“Wait! Wait… Why are you doing
this? You never skip; I’m not letting you skip because of me.” Michael did not
however miss the exaggerated eye roll he received from her “Mikey, you’re not
making me do anything. I want to do it, ok? So are you coming or what?”
she raised a daring eyebrow at Michael, walking backwards away from him, a
tempting smile on her face. Chuckling to himself, Michael finally obliged.
“You don’t even know what’s wrong.” Michael
broke the silence they were walking in, the question he wanted to ask her ever
since they walked out of school coming out.
(y/n) shrugged, her teeth biting
down on her lower lip, “I don’t. But I can guess.” She mumbled, second guessing
whether she should’ve said it. Did she want him to know that she noticed? That she
noticed more things about him than she let out on.
Michael was quiet for a while,
wondering if it’s safe to open up the already ajar door. “What might that guess
be?” he spoke at last, taking a seat at a bench. Joining him, (y/n) looked at
him cautiously before answering him.
“Trouble at home?” Michael let out a
breathy laugh, but to her ears it sounded like his loudest cry. “It’s suffocating.”
Were the only words he spoke, his eyes never looking up from the ground.
as he spoke, he felt (y/n) drape her arms around him, her head resting on his
shoulder. It was the only consolation she was able to offer him at the moment,
her previous doubts coming to life. And maybe that wasn’t enough to solve all
of his problems or fix a thing, but it was enough to make him feel better; her hand
tightly clasping his anchoring him, her arms around him sheltering him in a
Running a hand roughly through her hair,
(y/n) groaned at the agonizing headache she was trying so hard to forget about.
Chemistry class was dragging slower than usual, the minutes left til the bell
rang getting longer and longer. She silently cursed at the drumming on the
table, caused by none other than her lab partner.
“Ash, can you stop please?”
she asked him through closed eyes, her head resting against her forearm. Humming
as a response, Ashton’s hands stopped banging on the table only to start a
couple minutes after on his thighs. Sighing loudly for him to hear, (y/n) put
her hand on top of his, silently shushing him. She felt bad for stopping him,
especially since she knew how boring the class was, but the pounding in her
head was only getting worse due to the noise.
Just as the turbulence decreased,
making her pain more bearable, the drumming started once more. Ashton wasn’t
even aware of his fingers mindlessly tapping the table to the beat stuck in his
head, not until his partner lifted her head up with so much force he was
“Would you freaking stop that! I asked you twice already, so please! Knock
it off.” Ashton only then noticed the dark half moons resting beneath her eyes.
The silent following her outburst was getting suffocating, not only because
Ashton had instantly diverted his eyes from her, but also because it alarmed
her that the whole class had seen it. Everyone was holding their breath,
waiting for the idiotic girl to receive what she was looking for by playing
with the big bad wolf. With eyes wide open, they all followed the scene,
curiosity bubbling inside. How could she be brave enough to yell at him? Wasn’t
she aware of who he was? Maybe they all knew that she was different than the
rest, that she was an exception for him, that they’d never witness the downfall they
were all waiting for; nonetheless, they still waited.
“Ashton, please stop!” (y/n) tried to catch
up with the long-legged giant. The remorse becoming insupportable as he didn’t
even bother her during class as he used to, he didn’t even attempt to crack any
jokes. She chased after him right after they exited the classroom, knowing that
an explanation was needed.
“Asht-“ She stopped as she almost bumped into him
due to his abrupt stop. Exhaling a finally, she eyed him as he stood
cross-armed in front of her as if asking her what?
“I’m sorry for
yelling at you during class, I have this terrible headache and you were being
noisy and I just couldn-“ (y/n) closed her mouth once she felt Ashton’s cold
hand making contact with her forehead, a sigh leaving his lips.
“You also have
a fever.” He concluded, stepping back to examine her face furthermore. “Why did
you come to school in this state? And why didn’t you tell me that you were
sick?” he scolded her, his hazel eyes however showing the utmost concern.
suppost to tell you when I’m feeling sick?” she chuckled lightly, the buzzing
in her head still not dissipating.
Ashton however did not laugh, still feeling
uneasy about her state, “Yes! You’re supposed to tell me so I don’t end up
being a complete dumbass and make it worse!” (y/n) instanly smiled at his
words, his obvious concern for her making her feel blissful.
Wrapping her arms
around his torso, (y/n) rested her head against his chest, enjoying the warmth
and the security his embrace provided, giving her something else to think about
beside her pounding head.
“Come on, baby girl, I’ll drive you home.” Ashton
mumbled into her ear, mindful to keep his voice as low as possible, not wanting
to aggravate her state even more.
His eyes fluttered open, remembering the white ceiling he’s gotten used to. His hyung, he still called his professor to bring him to school and he would only go to her class but found himself talking to that girl again. Why was she around him? She was like him in a way, mysterious and teasing but even more interesting. It was a cat and mouse game, the same one he played with you but it was player against player. He was going to win, no matter what it took.
He went to the kitchen, scratching his hair and yawning while he rummaged through the fridge. It was surprisingly full, settling on an apple and sitting at the table. He heard his hyung coming out, the girl he saw the other day ran out crying in her own clothes. His hyung sighed as he opened the fridge, grabbing instant coffee and heating up a kettle.
“Did you sleep well?”
“You’re not funny, you little shit.”
“Then, why am I laughing? Seriously, hyung, are you alright?”
“No, I’m not, Gukkie.”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter; she won’t come back to someone like me.”
“Hyung, you two were so in love with each other. You would see on the couch, cuddling and kissing each other. She made you smile which is rare. You looked so much better with her, you looked happier. All those chicks, they make you look like you’ve hit rock bottom.”
“Are you giving me a pep talk or trying to insult me?”
“Can’t it be both? She misses you, hyung.”
“Stick to eating apples, kid. Don’t you have class today?”
“If I say no, will you let me stay home?”
“No way, kid.” His hyung ruffled his hair, taking a sip of his coffee and sitting in front of him. He scoffed at him, taking a generous bite of his apple and looked at the clock.
“When do you do groceries?”
“I hope you realize I don’t live off coffee, Jeongguk. Hyun… she was worried about you and brought them.”
“She was worried about me or you?”
“Knock it off, kid.”
“She still likes you, why can’t you see it?”
“Even if she did, she won’t be okay with me and what I’ve done.”
“It’s not like you cheated on her.”
“I haven’t. I couldn’t.”
“Hyung.” He was interrupted by knocking; his hyung went to open the door as he finished the rest of his apple. He got up, tossing away the core and walking towards the door to see his hyung uncomfortably trying to talk to his professor with his hand scratching the back of his neck. He laughed at the two of them standing there with their hand behind their backs and he went to change his clothes. He wore his usual black beanie, a white shirt, blue jeans and his timberlands. He grabbed his earbuds, still listening to your favourite songs and saved the both of them from this strange standoff.
“I’m ready, Noona.”
“Jeongguk, she’s your professor. Show some respect.”
“It’s alright… Come on, Jeongguk.” She took a sigh of relief as did his hyung and he smiled to himself, moving past his hyung into the hallway with her
“Bye, Gukkie and um… Hyun..”
“God, this is so unbearable. Let’s go.” He pulled his professor along to her car, sitting in the passenger seat and she straightened out before sitting down. She cleared her throat and he smiled again, noticing how nervous she was.
“Can’t you just drop me off at the mall or something? It’salongthe same way to the university.”
“I know you don’t go to first period, Mr. Han gives me so much crap about it. Why aren’t you going to class, Jeongguk?”
“It’s boring. He has nothing to tell me and you’ll tell hyung if I didn’t go to your class.”
“This kid, you’re so much trouble. Go to class.” She hit the back of his head, her bracelet hurting him more than her fist did.
“Noona, focus on driving, please. Ow.”
“So, you do feel pain.” He deadpanned; does everyone think that he’s emotionless? He scoffed, watching her park and hoping that Professor jackass won’t catch him his time. Hyun tried to call him back, he just kept walking and he felt a presence right next to him.
“Hey, stray cat. Running from Professor Kang, I see?”
“Why do you seem to know everything about me?”
“I told you, you’re more of an open book than you think you are, Jeongguk.”
“So, Ms. Know-it-all, do you at least have a name?”
“A name is an identity. Something that shapes a person. You don’t know me well enough.”
“I know you frustrate me to no end.”
“At least, you’re honest about your feelings to me. Why can’t you do the same for Y/N?”
“What are you?”
“I am you.”
“You’re so.” She had the same grin that he had when he tricked you or frustrated you. Why does everything about her remind him of you? He saw you coming down the hallway, talking with squid ink again. With his height and attitude, he was fit to be your purse dog and it made him sick. He gritted his teeth, feeling her hand holding his just as you noticed him. What’s the possibility that mystery girl always knew where and when Y/N was? He looked at her, she looked cute and innocent but she had so much underneath her.
He needs to know her.
“Oh, hey. Oh, and Jeongguk. How are you?”
“Great, Gukkie’s been pretty antsy this morning. Did you forget your morning coffee, darling?” How the hell did she know that?
“Oh, Jimin’s going to be late. I’ll talk to you later, bye you two.” She looked happier, Jimin kissing her cheek as they went. He balled his fist and let go of mystery girl’s hand, why was she smiling?
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Maybe you should ask that question to yourself?” He grabbed her wrist, this runaround game was fun for a while but he didn’t even play with you for that long. She followed him outside; sat with him without any resistance all while she wore that smug grin proudly.
“Ever since you decide to pop into my life, you’ve managed to make everything worse. You made Y/N think we’re dating; you chat with her as if you’re good friends while you play me as if I’m some stupid fiddle. Why the hell did you come into my life? Why the hell can’t I kick you out? Why the fuck are you still smiling at me?”
“You. You’re the only one that hasn’t noticed. I was always there, Jeongguk. Don’t you see it, you arrogant asshole? I’m one of you and I have been waiting for you to notice me.”
“One of me? You’re a girl.”
“Wow, you have a blockhead. Look at my ears.” She moved them. Like he could. She was in public with her eyes uncovered and he didn’t notice.