For Reasons Wretched And Divine:

for reasons wretched and divine:

act i ↠ part ix

↠ pairing: bang chan x fem reader (afab)

↠ genre: wolf demon au, greek mythology au, demon!stray kids

↠ word count: 7.1k

↠ includes: fluff, angst, eventual smut

↠ rating: mature/18+

↠ warnings: language, violence, torture, smut, more warnings to be added

↠ summary: You’ve heard stories about the Lykos clan for your entire life. You know the rules about dealing with demons - never look them in the eye, never trespass on a shrine without an offering, and never walk in their territory alone.

When did you forget to listen?

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You’ve been awake for hours by the time you finally hear the council stirring around you.

It’s Minho’s voice that you hear first—low and gravelly from sleep. “Oh, gods—we’re bathing again before we leave today. No debate.”

“The hell? What for?” Jisung.

Minho sits up from his blankets and stares at Jisung across from him. “Getting pulled a few feet into the ground didn’t do anyone any favors. Everyone’s covered in about as much dirt and grime as before, if not more. You look like death.”

“Minho, stop,” Jisung says, pretending to hide a blush. “I’m flattered.”

Keep reading

Are you ready, angel? | CH1

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: It all begins when Somi declares that she's on a sex ban for three months. You remind her of this when your life is turned upside down. And when everything finds its place again, you reconnect with him in a way you never would have expected.

You're new to this avenue of pleasure, Hyunjin isn't. Who can be better to guide you through this journey of self-discovery? And maybe Hyunjin has a few things to learn about himself.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Hyunjin x Reader (female)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5K

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Strong language, hints of angst, nothing much really

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @justoutfromdead @ameliastree @aerastus @purehyunida @danxythirstae01 @moasworld @c-atitos @hyunee1 @bangtanskz @jisungsleftcheek @uwusforateez @keehoslove (let me know if you want to be added to the tag list)

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Alright. Enough of this. It’s time to put your big girl pants on. You’re doing this.

The one thing you consider yourself to be good at is overthinking, and while your "wiser" side does agree that this decision is hard to come at, you're tired of searching up the same questions and hesitations.

You found the information a while back on a munch that occurred regularly at a diner up the road from you, the same information you read about while buying Hyunah onesies. It immediately caught your attention and you checked it out, genuinely impressed by its approach. It took you a month to actually work up the courage to attend one.

You were beyond nervous as you walked through the parking lot. You didn't know what to expect, what you were supposed to do or say. A breath later, you tell yourself that it's okay, that this is a public place. They probably won't be dressed in assless chaps or dragging each other around on leashes. You don't think so. Shit. Just normal people, like you.

By now, you are buzzing with nervous energy as you walk toward the glass doors of the restaurant. As you place your fingers on the door handle, you have a sudden surge of anxiety and you let go of the door. It almost feels like you're a shaken soda bottle, bubbling up with nervous energy and ready to explode anytime. You can't fucking do this. You turn on your heel and walk back to your car. You open up your car door and lean on the frame while taking a deep breath.

What is your problem? Stop being a wimp. You're not someone who gets scared of shit like this. It's a bunch of strangers who are inherently as open minded as they come. Time to woman-up and do this. No more fucking around. You want this. You need this, and it's not going to happen unless you turn yourself around and walk your ass back in there.

With a new resolve, you walk back to the restaurant. As you step into the lobby, you notice an approachable brunette with a warm, knowing smile on her face. "I remember changing my mind fifty times – do I go in or go home?"

You sheepishly return her smile, "It was that obvious, huh?"

"Maybe just to a kindred spirit. I'm Madeline, feel free to call me Maddy." She smiles again, which immediately sets you at ease.

"You're here for the munch?" She motions toward the group of a dozen or so – very normal-looking – people gathered around several pushed-together tables at the back of the restaurant. One man is animatedly telling some sort of story to the rest of the group. An outburst of laughter indicates that he must have reached the punch line.

You look back at Maddy, "I'm Y/n. I'm ridiculously nervous.” You make some sort of a noise between a huff and a chuckle.

Her face brightens as she tells you, “Don't worry about it. Come with me.”

You walk behind her toward the group. 

She greets everyone and introduces you. “Everyone, this is Y/n. She's new, so let's not scare her.” The group laughs and welcomes you in. Maddy offers you a chair next to hers, and you take a seat as people introduce themselves. After some non-specific chatting, people begin to chat amongst themselves in smaller groups. You end up in a group with Maddy and two other people, who appear to be a couple. One of them, Dahlia, asks you to tell a little about yourself.

“Well, I'm not sure where I'm supposed to begin. As Maddy told you, my name is Y/n, and this is all new to me, in terms of experience. I'm not really sure what you want to know.” You were honestly unsure how to answer this simple but vague prompt – did they want your life story? Were you supposed to give them a fake name? Were you supposed to tell them your darkest fantasies or something?

You smile nervously and glance around until you meet the gaze of a late twenty-something man who speaks up with a warm smile. You recognize him as the story-teller from earlier. “Y/n. I 'm Jisung. I'm glad you're here. Let's start with how you found us, and maybe what brought you here today. Are you interested in the lifestyle on a personal level? Doing research for a class? Start there.”

“Okay, that's easy enough,” you laughed. “I learned about this munch on a website, on the community calendar link, I think. It seemed casual enough, and I had availability in my own schedule, so I figured I'd come and check it out. I'm 'interested' on a personal level, I guess. I'm not practically experienced with BDSM. I mean, I know the basics from my own reading and research, like what the letters stand for, and what some of the terms are. I understand some of the psychology behind the lifestyle, from a class I took in college. I guess that class is probably what piqued my interest years ago, but this is the first time I'm pursuing this, like, in real life..."

You have unconsciously started to fidget, unaware that you are tapping your fingers loudly until you see Jisung glance at your hands. 

You stop abruptly, embarrassed. “Okay, I'm sorry, I'm rambling...”

Jisung shakes his head, giving you a reassuring smile. “No reason to be sorry.”

You huff out another laugh, “Okay. I'm still nervous as fuck right now!”

“What makes you nervous?” he asks.

“I guess everything?” You shrug your shoulders. “I grew up a 'good girl' who was basically told that sex is for dirty girls. You know, 'if it feels good, stop?' That sort of thing. So, sex and pleasure are things that I don't really talk a lot about. Out loud, anyway. Yes, I’ve had ‘flings’ but they were very, um, vanilla? Yeah, that sounds about right. I'm nervous that I'll be laughed out of the room because of my inexperience.” You blink away tears that have welled up beyond your eyes before you continue, “This is all so overwhelming. I feel like I'm on the verge of experiencing a sexual awakening or something... Fuck, why am I about to fucking cry about this?!"

You laugh while wiping away a few escaped tears.

Dahlia tilts her head thoughtfully as she speaks up, "Why not? You're opening up and letting yourself feel things, maybe for the first time. Crying is okay, sweetheart." Maddy puts a hand on your arm and agrees.

You learn a little about the individuals at the table. Jisung and Dahlia are in an exclusive Dom/Sub relationship. Jisung is the dominant, Dahlia is the submissive. Maddy describes herself as a “switch.” She is currently unattached, and is somewhat vague about whether she's looking for a play partner.

Jisung speaks again, “What is it you're looking for?”

You take a deep breath, pausing to think of your answer. “Guidance, really. I mean, the online forums answer a lot of questions, but I need more. More than I can get from just clicking from page to page. Does that make any sense?”

“It does,” Jisung replies with a warm laugh. “So, you've done some research. What do you know about your own tastes and preferences?”

“Well, I really feel like I just have theoretical preferences. I know what I fantasise about, and I know enough about myself to have an idea of what I am interested in exploring further.”

“Okay, then let's start there. Theoretically, are you a dominant or a submissive? Or have you thought about that?”

“Submissive. Which is something that surprised me, because I never considered myself to be a 'submissive' person by nature. I learned that being submissive in the BDSM context is not the same as having a doormat for a personality. I used to think of myself as a controlling person, actually. I think that has been more circumstantial. A lot of things in my life require me to maintain tight control, make decisions based on my judgement.

"I realised that I feel suffocated by the constant responsibility. My sex life has been unfulfilled, because I haven't been able to just let go. Trying to be "in control" during sex takes the pleasure out of it for me. That much I've known since before I knew what BDSM even was. Unfortunately, my past sexual partners have had no clue what to do with that.”

You feel like you are rambling again, which you probably are.

You hear Dahlia say to Jisung and Maddy, “We should introduce her to Sam.”

Jisung clears his throat. “I want to clarify, these meetings aren't really for matchmaking purposes, so I'm not trying to set you up with this person.” He studies your face for a few seconds before continuing. “That being said, I think there is someone you should meet. Just as another contact in our community. No pressure. He was actually living in the US for a while and he recently came back. Currently, he’s out of town for some personal work, but he'll be back for the next meeting.”

Maddy adds, “Yeah, and Sam is a great guy. He's got a lot of experience, and he likes to teach. I think he'd like you.”

You ask, “Like, Sam Smith?”

She laughs, “No, not Sam Smith!”

Just then your phone buzzes. It is your reminder to leave for the case management meeting for one of your patients.

"Shit, I have to get going – it’s work. But I'd really like to continue this conversation!” You start gathering your things. You exchange contact info with the three of them before leaving the restaurant.

You feel like a weight has been lifted off your soul…

***

The afternoon of your first actual break from work in ages, you get a text from Claudia.

You’re busy running the last check-up before the new parents checkout, something easy and fun to celebrate getting through another successful surgery, searching for any colouration, bumps or inflammation that the baby may have — and thankfully, finding none — which means you don’t manage to read it until the end of the day. When you do, it’s a surprise: Claudia asking if you’re available to come in for a chat, because she’s looking for someone to run the studio for a month over the summer break.

It’s something that immediately piques your interest – a little extra cash, and something to occupy what you know will be a boring break if your other plans don't work.

You let Claudia know you will come past once you have wrapped up with the hospital, making sure you will have enough time to pick up Hyunah from day-care afterwards, and are greeted with a grateful smile and a quick hug.

“I was hoping you’d bring Hyunah by, too,” she says, a little sheepishly.

You laugh. “Don’t worry, most of my friends are disappointed when I rock up to things by myself, too. But I’d have to double back, and I’m not risking another hour in the car.”

“Very understandable here. Now, what did you think of my offer?”

You chat for the next half hour or so, hashing out Claudia’s proposal. She’s heading to Europe in about a week’s time, and the person who was going to help run the studio in her absence has backed out unexpectedly. It won’t be a huge amount of work, as she still has other employees, but she just needs someone with more experience, who’ll make sure everything runs smoothly.

Even without the flattery, you're pretty keen on the idea, and you manage to work out a schedule that has you working a few shifts a week, allowing you enough time to still get time for a proper break, both to recharge and to spend time with Hyunah.

It’s just as you are wrapping up that you get three separate texts. The first is from the day-care, telling you Hyunah has developed a fever, which you respond to quickly, telling them you will be over right away. The second is from Dahlia, informing you that Sam is back and would like to meet you, and you send her a few random emoticons as you are unsure what to say. In the past two weeks you have learned that Sam is what you describe as a tall, handsome and well-spoken man. You redirect your thoughts to focus on the third message from Felix, which is somehow more alarming.

Felix: Need to speak with you asap. Can you come over tonight?

Y/n: Everything okay? I need to pick up Hyunah and Somi was going to come over for dinner.

You may have to cancel the plan now, Hyunah being sick and all.

Felix: Tell Somi to come by instead, and can you bring Hyunah over?

Y/n: If it’s that important? But you’re kinda freaking me out, here. You sure everything’s okay?

Felix: Sorry! It is. All is fine, but just get here asap. Without speeding of course

 Y/n: Of course

Relaying the message to Somi, you still feel a little anxious about the whole exchange, but don’t let yourself think too much into it. Hyunah needs more of your focus, so you wrap things up with Claudia quickly, promising you will sort everything else out soon, and you make your way out of the studio.

Only to bump into someone you were definitely not expecting to see.

“Seonghwa!” you exclaim, surprised. You had no idea he was back in general, let alone back at the studio.

“Hey, Y/n,” he greets, smiling just as warmly as you remember. “How are you? I didn’t realise you were still working here.”

“I’m good,” you say with a small laugh. “And, maybe. Kind of a long story. But, anyway, how are you? When did you get back?”

You had not exactly kept up with him these past three years; you really have no clue what he’s been up to since he left.

“It’s been a little while, actually. I got back at the beginning of the year. I was meaning to drop by earlier, but the year’s just gotten away from me.”

You laugh. “I know how it can be. So, what are you doing here now?”

“I’m here to see Claudia. I’m back at the community centre, and we’re wanting to organise some more class times.”

“Oh, that’s great! I guess I’ll probably see you around a bit, then.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. It’d be good to catch up.”

“Of course,” you agree. “How about we exchange numbers? I actually have to rush off right now, but I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to while you’re away.”

“Sounds good,” Seonghwa says, taking out his phone and handing it to you. “So, where’re you heading off to?” He asks as you type your number. “Big Friday plans?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Unfortunately, no. My friend has bombarded me with mildly alarming messages, so I’m heading over to his place to see what it’s all about. But I have to pick up Hyunah first – she’s got a fever – so I’m trying to be quick about it.”

“Hyunah?”

“My daughter,” you say, smiling. “Sorry, sometimes I forget people don’t know.”

“Oh, wow,” he laughs, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t realise you had a baby.”

“Yeah, it was after you left. She was a shock, but she’s incredible.”

“That’s amazing, Y/n. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Saving your name and number, you quickly text yourself before handing Seonghwa’s phone back. “Sorry, I’d love to stay and chat, but—”

“Hyunah,” he supplies, smiling kindly. “Your daughter definitely takes priority, don’t worry. I was meaning to tell you something, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, we actually have a mutual friend. Well, friend of friend to be exact.”

You frown in confusion. “Who?”

Seonghwa chuckles. “I, uh, I met someone while I was away, another Korean,” he says, and then, with very little fanfare: “Her name’s Yeji.” You’re not sure how your smile doesn’t falter when everything inside of you drops, but somehow, you manage to keep it in place. Seonghwa continues, seemingly oblivious. “Her friend mentioned a Y/n when I told him I used to work in an art store here.”

“Hyunjin?” You ask, voice coming out quiet. Your heart is lodged in your throat.

Seonghwa’s brow creases. “Yeah,” he says. “I didn’t know whether you’d remember or not. He said you met a few years ago.”

You clear your throat, manage a smile and hope that it looks as wrecked as it feels. 

“Small world,” you joke, but it sounds wrong. “I’ll, um, I’ll keep in touch, okay?”

Seonghwa nods, looking over you for a moment before he smiles again; it’s not as though you know each other well enough that he can press you on the oddness of your behaviour. “Yeah, sounds great, Y/n.”

You nod, manage one last smile, before turning on your heels and heading out of the studio. Your throat tightens and your stomach tangles into sickening knots. Shit. Holy fucking shit. Tears quickly sting the backs of your eyes, but you blink them back, reminding yourself to breathe.

In. Out. In. Out.

All you need to do right now is pick up some medicine for your daughter, and then collect her from the day-care.

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s at least enough to get you into the car and drive to the day-care. There’s a drugstore only a few blocks away, so you stop in to grab something for Hyunah quickly, your hands shaking as you hop out of the car, pulling your phone out to call Somi.

You don’t let her get a single word in once she picks up. “Somi, I’m seriously freaking the fuck out right now,” you whisper into the phone as you find the medication aisle.

“What’s wrong?” Somi asks, alarmed. “Is it Hyunah?”

You shake your head. “No. I can’t even – fuck, I can’t even say it.” You take a deep breath, find the children’s Advil you’re looking for. “I’m just grabbing some tablets for Hyunah before I pick her up, so I’ll be there in half an hour, okay? I just – I need to talk to someone for a moment.”

“Okay, that’s – of course, babe. Do you need me to come pick you up?”

You swallow, clearing your throat slightly. 

“No,” you say, honestly. “I’ll be fine for the next thirty minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll have some tea waiting for you when you get in. Now, what do you want me to distract you with in the meantime?”

Such intense fondness for Somi fills your chest, even as your inner freak out intensifies. “What’s that new show you’ve been banging on about?”

“That’s too vague a question,” Somi jokes, and you smile as you turn to go to the checkout. “Which show haven’t I been banging on about?”

Your laugh is weak, but it’s real, and you’re about to respond with some easy snark before you’re stopped in your place by a familiar voice.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You know that voice. You would know it anywhere. The voice that makes your chest tighten and your throat once again close up.

That voice, the one that broke your young heart when he told you "I don’t do relationships." 

The voice which left you because he had to move on with his life. "I'll see you around, angel."

What the ever living fuck is he doing here?

“Y/n?” You hear from behind you, that same, deep, warmth that you still remember, despite the three years that have passed.

“Fuck, Raven, I’ve gotta go,” you say into your phone, quick and quiet. “I promise I’m okay, but I have to go. Bye.”

You end the call before you can hear your friend’s response. Then you take a breath.

It’s still a shock when you turn around, for all you knew exactly who it was from the first sound of your name. Still a shock to see him standing before you after all these years, all broad and handsome like you remember, a mess of blonde curls and brown boba eyes that are exactly like Hyunah’s.

You smile, hope it doesn’t waver.

“Hyunjin.”

***

Three years back

Somi’s looking at you like you’re a fucking idiot.

You are not sure if you have ever been on the receiving end of a look quite like that, or such steadfast persistence, and you have got to hand it to your friend: it would make most crumble and concede quickly. But you're probably as stubborn as Somi is persistent, and despite the half hour she’s been ranting about the opportunity that’s presented itself – the opportunity being the phone number of a one night stand you gushed about for at least two hours this morning – you think you are doing an exceptional job in holding strong.

“I can’t believe you,” Somi’s saying, already having worked herself into something of a huff at your refusal to budge on the matter. It’s a little fun to watch, honestly. “You’re being crazy right now, Y/n. Crazy, do you know that?”

“I’m not being crazy, Somi,” you say, rolling your eyes at your friend’s dramatics. “I'm being practical.”

“Practically an idiot,” Somi mutters, a comment you ignore. “I just don’t get why you aren’t taking this guy up on his offer.”

“I’ve already explained this.” Your friend’s gaze is sharp on you, and you look down to avoid it, frowning at the ever-growing pile of crap in your basket. You were wandering through the aisles of your local drugstore when you — stupidly — admitted to having saved your one night stand’s number in your phone, and you think Somi’s frustrations with you has translated into angry shopping because there are a lot of things in there you probably don’t need.

“He’s leaving in a week,” you lay out your defence; reasonable, you think. “There’s no point in starting something that’s over barely before it’s begun.”

“No, no, no. You’re thinking about this in an entire fucking wrong way. It doesn’t have to be starting something, or anything. It can just be – just a weeklong holiday. A break from the same old bore.”

“Maybe I just don’t want a break from the same old bore...?”

“You’re the one who told me all about the night you spent together,” Somi says. “And that he gave you his number. I think you just secretly want accountability. You know, not to be chicken shit.”

“I do not.”

Somi snorts, sending you a look that tells you just how transparent you are. “So you’re telling me that you met a hot guy, hit it off straight away, and had awesome sex—” she points out on her fingers “—and him leaving his number doesn’t make you want to call at all?”

“Yes, despite all of that, I don’t want to call.” 

The words don’t ring quite as true as they did ten minutes ago.

“You’re such a terrible liar.”

“And you’re such a terrible bully.”

Somi rolls her eyes, biting back a much too sly grin. “You know, in our entire time living together, you’ve not once gone home with someone else?”

You frown, partly from the statement and partly from Somi’s change in tactics. “What? That’s definitely not true.”

“It is,” she insists. “You bring people home; you don’t go home with them. And now, in a time where I’m in a desperate need of seeing hot people, you can’t even pull through with that. Seriously, Y/n, you’re forgetting that I’m living vicariously through your sex life at the moment.”

“It’s not my fault you’re on a weird sex ban,” you say. “And anyway, my original point still stands. He’s leaving in a week and there’s no point starting something that will be over as soon as it begins.”

“And my original counter-point still stands. You’re thinking about it in the wrong way.” 

Before you can protest, Somi puts her hands on your shoulders, soldiers on. “You may have been the debate club president, babe, best speaker even, but trust me, I’ve got you on this. Look, nobody’s saying you have to fall in love with this guy. And if I really thought you didn’t want to call him, I wouldn’t push it. But I think you do, and I think that makes you nervous, so you’re talking yourself out of something you want: a week of fun with a hot guy before you start the last, crazy term of your undergrad.”

You worry your lip, feeling yourself faltering. “It just feels... weird, you know, dragging out a one night stand.”

“He left his freaking number; he obviously still wants to see you.”

“Okay, point. But what if I don’t like him without alcohol and I have already agreed to hang out with him for a week? Or, what if I like him a lot, and then I'm heartbroken when he leaves?”

“You already know that you like him, alcohol just makes you worry less,” Somi says. “And it’s a week, Y/n. You’re not going to be heartbroken.”

“A lot can happen in a week,” you mutter under your breath, petulant.

Somi laughs, shaking her head a little. “You're ridiculous.”

“Shut up.” You screw your nose up at her. “You’re not gonna drop this, are you?” You ask, mostly just to delay the inevitable. You know Somi won’t, and as much as you hate to admit it, your friend is right. There is a part of you that wanted — wants to call him, and just requires encouragement.

“Not a chance.”

“Fine,” you relent, and stupidly, your heart quickens with the decision. “I'll text him.”

Somi’s face splits into a mischievous grin. “Good. I’m expecting a very satisfied Y/F/N for next week.”

“You’re the worst. You know that, right?”

Somi’s smile is entirely self-congratulatory. “I do.”

In actual fact, Somi is far from the worst. You met three years ago, as co-workers at a part time job you had and you never liked each other. But after you both let off some steam, you and Somi became fast and best friends, keeping each other after dealing with your perverted employer.

Friends became roommates about a year ago, and between further shitty relationships, an accident that led to months of physical therapy and an almost broken leg, and general bonding over alcohol and takeout and shitty TV, Somi’s easily one of your favourite people now.

Still, while she’s one of your favourites, that doesn’t mean she isn’t annoying. Even if she’s convincing you to do something you wanted to do anyway. Somi may have a point about you being chicken shit.

Y/n: Still looking for a tour guide for the next week?

He replies quickly, and that has you smiling in mild worry.

Hyunjin: Hey. Yeah I am still looking for a tour guide. You offering, or is this a general inquiry?

Y/n: I may have some free time on my hands. Are you free tonight?

Hyunjin: After six, yeah. Want to get drinks? I can come out your way this time.

Y/n: Yeah, sounds great.

You hash out plans to meet tonight at eight, and with Hyunjin’s final ‘See you then, angel', you are pretty sure it was the right decision.

“Alright, I’m getting drinks with him tonight. Happy?”

Somi smirks. “Ecstatic, queen. Now here, you’ll be needing these.” She hands over a box of condoms and a lube, having apparently picked them up while you were busy texting. “You can never be too careful, babe. The pill doesn’t protect you from everything.”

“It’s not fair that you can hide your teasing beneath genuine concern for my wellbeing,” you say, dropping the box and lube in the basket. She is right, after all.

You pay for your stuff before making the walk back to your apartment, chatting easily along the way. Somi mentions texting the gang to come out tonight, back up for you in case you need it, which is how Somi shows that she cares. Still, it’s kind of startling how sure you are that she won’t actually call them to only be your "bodyguards".

Your memory of the other night is a little hazy, but you did get along really well, and Hyunjin was definitely a good guy.

“Just to make sure he isn’t an axe murderer,” Somi insists, as you make your way up to the second storey of your building. Elevator maintenance has been going on for a month now, and even with Somi’s almost healed leg after slipping on cocktail, the climb is still slow. She extends her arm up the last flight so that you can help her up and when you flick her forehead, she gives you her typical puppy how-can-you-do-this-to-me eyes.

“Now you’re worried he might be an axe murderer?” You ask, amused.

“Well, if he’s a hot axe murderer, I might let it slide.”

“So either you're just thirsty or you have nothing better to do but to judge my taste in guys.”

“Exactly,” Somi says, unlocking the door to your place and pushing her way in. “I think you’re forgetting the whole ‘I’m living vicariously through you’ aspect to this.”

“Yeah, I’m really not.” You flop down onto the couch and turn on the TV. “You’ve mentioned it about forty times today.”

“But it worked,” Somi points out, stealing the remote to switch on, like you weren’t about to do the exact same thing. “When you get laid multiple times this week, you’ll thank me.”

“Promise,” you say, knocking your shoulder against Somi’s. “Thanks for letting your sex-ban convince me.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

“Apparently for convincing me that I deserve a ton of string-free sex.”

“Apparently, precisely, a yes.”

You laugh, turning back to the TV even as excitement begins to simmer beneath your skin.

Yeah, a week of meaningless fun sounds pretty damn good.

***

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Masterlist | Next

[2] MY ONLY FRIEND

warnings: none.

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✿↠ WELCOME, SOMETHING DIFFERENT.

synopsis: pollyana x grumpy (fem!y/n x han jisung)

han jisung has always been content with living life as the resident "lone wolf". but after meeting you, perhaps he'd be more open for a change of heart.

taglist: @pikapikapikaachuu

mastertag: @geniejunn @leagreenly @90s-belladonna @fuzzylard @loveliebri @chimmybaek7 @todorokiskitten @lilacdreams-00 @ethereallino @ninjaleeknow @trials--error @hey-i-really-miss-you @multifandomizer @aerastus

thoughts and feedback pls 🤲

Get well soon Changbin!!

h.hj. — descent to hell.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn reader, former bang chan x gn reader genre: fallen angel au, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers au warnings: blood, injuries, cheating, food, slight themes of jealousy, mild swearing summary: someone like minho would have told you to keep your distance from hyunjin; that he is something inhumane— dangerous and flammable. but you are already waist-deep in those dark pools of liquid glass that he has for eyes. length: oneshot word count: 13.6k+ a/n: this actually took forever so i'm just so glad that i finished it. hope you enjoy!!

When you find him, he is sprawled across the sand, unconscious. There is salt crusted over his bare collarbones and a thin stream of blood trickling down the pale column of his throat.

Even so, his beauty takes your breath away.

It takes you the rest of the morning to drag him to the lighthouse. The rest of the evening to coax his body onto the lumpy pull-out couch bed in the living room and dress the two gaping wounds slit along the length of his back.

His wounds heal as you work over them, the skin stitching back together in front of your very eyes, bloody tissue fading into smooth muscle.

You let out a small exhale of awe, wondering what this creature is, if not human. And yet, even then, despite his apparent supernatural properties, something about him leaves you unwilling to push him away.

Instead, you tend to his cuts and bruises— although there isn't much need to, seeing that his body is already healing on its own. You rinse the dried salt out of his black locks of hair and pull a thick blanket over him in attempt to warm him up.

It is already late at night by the time you've finished with him. You leave him on the couch and stumble into your own bedroom to collapse onto your bed, exhausted.

The stranger is already up by the time you've rolled out of bed the next morning, preparing to make breakfast. You jump at the sight of him sitting on your coach, blanket spread over his lap, but quickly recover to give him a small nod in greeting.

He stares at you, eyes hostile and untamed. "Who are you?"

His voice is hoarse and slightly scratchy with disuse.

You feel a small smile tugging at your lips. How ironic.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" you ask.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to say. You take a step forward, assessing him carefully. He is even more handsome when he's awake.

"What's your name?"

The stranger balks, swallowing hard, as if trying to remember. Finally, after a long pause—

"Hyunjin," he says. "It's Hyunjin."

"Hyunjin," you repeat, rolling the word off the tip of your tongue. You smile. It suits him.

"Where are you from?"

Hyunjin pauses again, biting his lip, before shaking his head. "I don't remember."

You frown.

"Don't you remember what happened to you?"

He shakes his head again in denial.

"You don't remember anything?" you press, "nothing at all?"

His eyes turn defensive, narrowing to gaze at you defiantly. "Nothing at all."

You frown but don't push him— something about him suggests that it would be dangerous to pry. Instead, you come forward to lay a bundle of clothes by his side. When you had found him, his only attire had been a threadbare pair of skinny jeans.

"Put them on," you say, "I can't have you walking around the house half-naked."

Hyunjin takes the clothes in his hands, examining them with interest. You turn and stride out of the living room to give him some privacy. "Come to the dining room when you're dressed to have some breakfast."

On your way to the kitchen, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your hoodie.

[7:39 am] minho: having fun at the lighthouse ? or have you already started regretting not taking me up on my offer to visit itaewon ?

Grinning, you quickly type out a response.

[7:40 am] i'm having a GREAT time thank u very much

Most people would describe your residence as unique. After all, a lighthouse is not a typical type of home. But if you're being completely honest, having such a tiny home can be restrictive at times. Everything comes in a miniature size. Small kitchen, compact bedroom, miniscule living room. When your parents had asked that you spend your summer vacation at the lighthouse, you had begged to not go, protesting that there were better ways to spend the two luxurious months you got off from college. But they had insisted, saying that visiting the lighthouse was a family tradition, passed on for countless generations.

So you were stuck here. Contrary to common belief, it wasn't an entirely lonesome affair to live in a lighthouse. There was a ferry that traveled between the island and the mainland, which you regularly boarded whenever you craved social interaction and you occasionally hosted tours of the lighthouse as well for curious outsiders. Admittedly, the lighthouse wasn't necessarily a bad vacation destination, it was simply just not your first choice.

You trudge into the kitchen to make some avocado toast, sticking four slices of whole wheat bread into the toaster and spreading mashed avocado over the golden-brown slices of toast. Stacking up the bread onto a tray, you carry it out into the kitchen. Hyunjin is still sitting on the couch, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and an white oversized t-shirt. Your breath catches at the sight of him.

In those sweatpants, he resembles Chan a little too much.

The moment you think of Chan, you instantly regret it. Shaking your head, you forcibly push any Chan-related memories to the back of your mind and set down the tray onto the dining room table with a loud clatter, pulling out two chairs for you and Hyunjin.

He approaches the table cautiously, sitting down hesitantly in the chair. You push a plate of toast closer to him and gesture towards the food. "Go ahead."

You dig into your own toast, giving an approving nod at the familiar taste, and watch as Hyunjin carefully picks up the toast and takes a bite. He chews slowly, eyes thoughtful.

You grin. "What, you've never had avocado toast before?"

Hyunjin shakes his head. You raise your eyebrows in dismay— avocado toast is one of the three main staples of your diet along with rice and ramen, and you quite literally cannot imagine life without it. Hyunjin finishes his toast in silence, his bangs falling into his eyes. You are tempted to offer him a hairband, just to have the visual of Hyunjin with his hair tied back in a purple scrunchie, but decide that the action would be too forward.

Instead, you gather up the dirty dishes and dump them into the sink. Hyunjin watches you from the kitchen table, eyes following you wordlessly. He really is too handsome to be true— perfectly-shaped eyebrows and full lips, striking eyes that hold the weight of worlds.

You quickly sponge off the dishes and come back to stand in front of Hyunjin almost hesitantly. He stares at you, dark eyes boring into yours.

"Is it okay if I check on your cuts?"

"What?"

"The cuts on your back," you say, "I want to check if they're doing okay."

Hyunjin's eyes darken with recognition and you pause, intimidated by his gaze. "It's fine if you're uncomfortable I can just—"

But Hyunjin is already turning around, allowing you to lift up his shirt to check up on his wounds. You hesitantly lift up the hem of his t-shirt, eyes sliding over the muscled expanse of his back to where the two long wounds are located.

The sight that greets you makes you gasp. The cuts have closed, but are colored an angry red, the skin tight and swollen.

You run a light fingertip down one wound and Hyunjin lets out a hiss of pain. Mumbling an apology, you quickly pull down his t-shirt again and trod into the bathroom to gather ointment from your first aid bag.

Rummaging through the kit, you grab some antibiotic cream and carefully uncap the lid of the bottle, preparing to rub it over Hyunjin's wounds. He watches you quietly, eyes wary, but allows you to lift up the hem of his t-shirt again to apply the cream.

"It's infected," you explain, in case he wants an explanation. Hyunjin nods and allows you to adjust his position for better access.

When you finish spreading a thin layer of cream over his wounds, you wrap his torso with a thick layer of bandages to close off the wound completely and stand up again, letting the t-shirt fall back down. "Hopefully it'll do better after this."

Hyunjin doesn't say anything. For a moment, you hover over him, hesitant, before opting to set to work doing your usual duties. To be honest, you aren't really sure what to do with him. He is so beautiful and strange that it unnerves you more than you'd like to admit. So you leave him to his own devices and make your way to the top of the lighthouse, where you tend to the light beacon.

Technically, it's unnecessary due to modern technology, but you still keep the light on just for the sake of old traditions. Glancing outside, you take a weather reading and record it into the log book — it is damp and humid today, the sky filled with dark menacing clouds.

"What are you doing?"

Hyunjin's voice startles you out of your thoughts. You give a small start and turn around to see him leaning against the door frame of the room, curiosity lighting on his features.

"You shouldn't sneak up on me like that," you breath, "you scared the living shit out of me. And to answer your question, I'm recording the weather in the log book."

Hyunjin frowns, obviously perplexed but doesn't say anything else. You clear your throat. "Do you want anything? Why'd you come and see me?"

"I didn't have anything to do," Hyunjin shrugs. "Can I help? I'd like to repay you for your kindness."

"How thoughtful of you," you smile. "You can help me sweep out the walkway... I rarely have visitors but my parents still insist that I keep the walkway clean."

Hyunjin nods and you lead him outside to the pathway, handing him a broom. "Just sweep the pathway to clear it of any dust. I'll work on weeding it."

Although he is strange and intimidating, Hyunjin proves to be a good worker. He clears out the walkway with a clean efficiency— you watch him out of your peripheral vision while simultaneously weeding the pathway of any stray clumps of grass, marveling over his ethereal looks. In fact, you grow so overly distracted in your attempt to keep an eye on him that you almost end up pulling up a bunch of flowers. Thankfully, you snap awake just before you're about to uproot one of your mother's prize tulip beds.

By the time you've finished weeding, Hyunjin has swept the entire walkway as well as cleared the pathway of any stray pebbles. You stand up to see Hyunjin watching you with expectant eyes. "Is there anything else I can do?"

You shake your head.

"That's it," you say, "unless.."

Hyunjin gazes at you questioningly.

"Have you ever gone fishing before?"

You grin when Hyunjin slowly shakes his head in denial, gesturing for him to follow you as you trot down to the shore of the beach and come to sit down by the rocks. The sun has already begun to set by the time you arrive at the shore, painting the horizon a vivid ochre.

You hand Hyunjin a fishing rod and instruct him on how to fish properly, watching him carefully as he deftly tosses the fishing line into the sea. He moves so adeptly that it’s hard to believe that he’s never done this before.

For a long period of time, the two of you sit by the shore, waiting.

Hyunjin sits next to you with his eyes fixated to the fishing rod clutched in his hands. You hum, leaning back onto your forearms, admiring the ivory reflection of the moon on the sea. Hyunjin glances sideways at you for a moment before turning back to stare at his fishing rod.

"I remember something."

You sit up, suddenly intrigued, and turn to stare at him. "You do?”

Hyunjin nods. "Not much. Just feathers and pain. So much pain.”

He speaks in an oddly detached way, eyes blank as he gazes into the dark seawater. You wonder what kind of past he must have had, for him to speak of his memories in such an indifferent fashion.

"That's it? I was expecting something more dramatic."

Hyunjin shrugs and adjusts his position, leaning back a bit to press his back against the rock, turning his attention back to his fishing rod. He looks so earnest as he gazes into the sea that you feel inclined to lower his hopes a bit.

You've been sitting on the rocks with him for one or two hours by now, watching the tide roll in. You had suggested returning to the lighthouse after the sunset, but Hyunjin had insisted on staying until he caught a fish.

"Sometimes I don't catch any fish at all, you know," you say, "so don't be upset if you—"

Your words are interrupted by a sudden jerk on Hyunjin's line. His eyes glint with excitement as he reels in the rod, lips tugging into a slight smile. Elation looks good on him, you decide. His eyes are dark and alive, almost glowing in the gentle moonlight.

He continues to roll in the line until a skipjack tuna flops onto the shore. You both stare at the fish for a moment until Hyunjin turns to you, grinning. "You were saying?"

You roll your eyes but laugh anyway— it's good to know that he at least has a sense of humor. Hopping off the rocks, you step forward to carefully pick up the tuna, examining it carefully.

The tuna’s scales glint a dark blue in the moonlight, sleek and healthy. Running a hand along the length of the fish, you smile complacently. It’s been quite a while since you’ve last caught a fish as nice as this one.

You end up frying the tuna in soy sauce, topping it off with chopped scallions. Hyunjin watches you like he always does, curled up in the corner of the couch. You serve the fish with rice and kimchi, setting the table for two and gesturing for Hyunjin to come over.

He proves to have a good appetite, devouring the food hungrily. You devote half your time to actually eating, and the other half to admiring Hyunjin. He somehow manages to look attractive even while eating, and you're beginning to think it a little unfair.

The next day, you take Hyunjin out to the beach to dig for mussels. He trots beside you, barefoot in a pair of jeans and a loose fitting white dress shirt. Normally, you hate going mussel hunting, but Hyunjin seemed to want to see more of the island and you thought it would be a good opportunity for him to do so.

Humming, you skip along the length of the beach. It is sunny today— the sky is clear and cloudless, a crystalline blue. You laugh as you run back to walk alongside Hyunjin.

"You kind of look like Howl in that outfit, you know?"

Hyunjin's eyebrows furrow as he peers at you, uncomprehending. "Who?"

You stare at him, eyes widening. "You mean, you've never watched Howl's Moving Castle before?"

Hyunjin shakes his head. You let out a small gasp of despair. "Princess Mononoke?"

He shakes his head again.

"Spirited Away? Ponyo? My Neighbor Totoro?"

Hyunjin's face remains blank and impassive. You shake your head in disbelief. "God, you really are sheltered. I thought everyone knew about Studio Ghibli films."

The atmosphere grows quiet again as you approach the rocks. You demonstrate to Hyunjin the correct way to forage mussels, twisting and pulling them off from the rocks and dropping them into buckets full of cold seawater. Hyunjin proves yet again to be remarkably adept, gathering mussels at a rapid pace. You end up filling the buckets in two hours, and spend the rest of the morning wading through the shallow waters of the tidepools with Hyunjin, gathering exotic looking shells.

You find a pale pink conch shell resting just under the crevice of a barnacle-infested rock and let out a short laugh of surprise. It is tinged gold on the edges, smooth and creamy on the inside. It isn’t everyday that you find a shell so intact and flawless.

"Here," you say, holding out the conch shell to Hyunjin. He stares at you blankly.

"If you hold it to your ear, you can hear the sea."

He takes the conch shell from your hand, slim fingers grazing against yours, and slowly reaches up to hold the shell to his ear. You grin as his eyes light with recognition.

"Pretty cool, right?"

Hyunjin's lips twist into a full-fledged grin. His entire face shifts when he smiles — eyes crinkling at the corners warmly. He looks a little less distant as he smiles, a little less alien.

You turn to go back home at around noon, walking at a considerably slower place. The mussel buckets are heavy, laden with dark gleaming mussels. You boil them in vegetable broth and season them with garlic and ginger.

Hyunjin sits next to you by the dining table and the two of you eat until you feel like bursting. Hyunjin is still cautious around you, but a little less so— his eyes are a bit warmer, less reserved. You watch as he deftly cracks open the mussels to reach the pale yellow meat inside, and realize that it is the longest time you've ever gone without thinking about Chan since The Incident.

You still do not know what to think about Hyunjin, but you suppose that he must be good for you as long as his presence allows you to forget about Chan.

You tend to Hyunjin's wounds after lunch, carefully unraveling the bandages wrapped around his torso and examining the cuts. They are still infected, but considerably less so. You apply more antibiotic cream and wrap up the wounds again.

Hyunjin spends the rest of the afternoon dozing on the couch as you study in your bedroom. You can tell that he's exhausted, even if he's trying his best to conceal it and he looks enormously relieved when you suggest for him to take a nap. By the time he wakes up again, the moon has already risen and hangs low in the inky sky.

You make ramen for dinner and end up forcing Hyunjin to watch Howl's Moving Castle with you. He looks mildly confused as his eyes flit over the screen, quietly observing Turnip-head leading Sophie to the castle and Calcifer complaining as he cooks eggs and bacon. You point out the shocking resemblance between Hyunjin and Howl during one scene, and Hyunjin shakes his head, denying it.

But he wears a small smile throughout the rest of the movie, so you count it as a win.

Hyunjin melds himself into your life until you feel as if he must have always been here with you. He grows stronger as he stays with you, the wounds in his back closing up nicely. But they don't go away, and he says that it still hurts like hell to touch them. Even so, he is healing.

You wonder if he will leave once he is strong enough to.

The memories come back to Hyunjin in fragments, too.

One night, he tells you that he remembers a girl. He doesn't specify any further, but there is a weight in his eyes as he speaks of her.

"A lover?" you ask, peering at him.

Hyunjin shakes his head. "I don't remember."

Another day, as the two of you are sitting by the rocky shore, watching the sunset, Hyunjin tells you that he remembers a large city. A tiny apartment. Cartons of Gamja hotdogs drizzled with ketchup.

Hyunjin's story is absurd when you think of it. Washed ashore onto your island, with no remembrance of his past, and little knowledge about the outside world. Someone whose flesh stitches itself together even as he rips it open.

(You remember Hyunjin accidentally cutting his index finger as he was chopping up tomatoes one afternoon. He had let out an exclamation of pain, dropping the knife. By the time you had rushed over with a bandaid, his skin was already closing on its own, the deep cut fading into smooth skin.)

Someone like Minho would have warned you over the insanity of the entire situation, telling you to tread carefully with Hyunjin, to keep your distance. But something about Hyunjin is so addictive that you find yourself naturally gravitating towards him, even as you attempt to hold him at an arm's length.

His dark eyes, those silky black strands of hair. Those mornings when he stumbles into the kitchen, a vision of eyes swollen with sleep and crimson lips, oversized t-shirt slipping off one shoulder.

You want him. You have long since ceased to deny this fact, because that's what it is. A fact. A statement.

One morning, you wake up to Hyunjin's panicked yelping. You stumble into the living room, still half asleep, to see him pressed into the very corner of the pull-out couch, arms pulled around himself protectively. A large orange tabby cat sits by the foot of the couch, observing him serenely.

"Hyunjin," you gasp, "what's wrong?"

Hyunjin gestures vaguely towards the cat, aghast. "What's that?"

You suppress a peal of laughter. "You mean Kkochi? She's a cat."

Hyunjin stares at you. "You mean it has a name?"

"Sure she does," you say, "she's my pet. She's usually outdoors but she comes into the lighthouse occasionally when she wants company."

You come forward to rub Kkochi's chin as she purrs, closing her eyes in bliss. Hyunjin stares at you in amazement. "You can touch it?"

"Yep," you grin, "she loves it."

Hyunjin slowly inches forward to pat Kkochi's soft fur, running his fingers over her head. His eyes are wide with awe. You think it's adorable. Kkochi purrs and nudges her head further into Hyunjin's hand, eyes closed half shut.

"Oh, she must like you a lot," you say. "She doesn't usually warm up to strangers so quickly."

Hyunjin smiles a little, scratching over her head. "She's very soft."

That’s how you bond with Hyunjin. Through half-domesticated cats and Studio Ghibli films. By the end of his first three days at the lighthouse, you've already watched four other Ghibli films already, including Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away.

Hyunjin learns of cream puffs and bubble baths and Spotify during his stay at the lighthouse. He picks up a hobby of drawing, filling a notebook you bought him with flawless sketches. You watch as he blooms under your very eyes, and wonder if you are holding him back by keeping here in this lighthouse. Even so, you feel reluctant to let him go.

After all, he is the only good thing that has ever happened to you since The Incident.

Twelve days after Hyunjin arrives at the lighthouse, you open up the fridge and find it devoid of any avocados.

Normally, you only have to visit the mainland every other week or so for groceries, but with Hyunjin here with you, the food has disappeared much faster. You sigh and grab your bag, slipping on your sneakers and donning a hoodie. Hyunjin appears before you, gazing at you curiously. "Where are you going?"

"Town," you say, "I have to pick up some groceries there."

Hyunjin nods, opens his mouth to say something before closing it again. You watch him carefully. "Want to come with me?"

He gives a small nod in affirmation. You hesitate, doubtful, but consent anyway. After all, it’s beneficial for Hyunjin to have more exposure to the outside world. So you take him along with you on the ferry, keeping him close to you.

The ferryman gives Hyunjin one or two dubious glances, but he doesn't comment on it. By the time you reach the mainland, it is already noon. Hyunjin keeps beside you, gazing around him with mild interest.

You turn to glance at him. "What do you think?"

"There's a lot more people than I expected," he says, "but it's nice. I like it."

It's hardly been a minute since Hyunjin stepped off the ferry, and already he's attracting stares. A pair of girls gaze at him from their table at the local café, eyes sliding over his bold eyes and sculpted cheekbones. If Hyunjin notices their gazes, he doesn't show it.

"Want to stop by the local restaurant for lunch? It's already noon."

Hyunjin’s stomach growls in response.

Laughing, you lead him over to a small restaurant and order two servings of bibimbap. He sits on a chair adjacent to you, curious eyes wandering through the restaurant with interest. The restaurant has gone silent since he walked in, the customers abruptly pausing their conversations to stare at this beautiful stranger in awe. A man sitting next to your table almost makes a move to talk to Hyunjin but decides against it.

You cover your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie to conceal your smile. They really are too fucking obvious.

Hyunjin frowns at you. "What?"

"It's nothing," you say, still grinning.

A waitress comes and sets two bowls of bibimbap in front of you. Hyunjin thanks her for the food, a shy smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Blushing furiously, the waitress quickly departs, pressing her hands to her cheeks to cool them down. You stifle yet another smile and dig into your food, gesturing for Hyunjin to do the same.

He takes a bite and gives a small groan of delight.

"What do you think?" you ask, "it's good, right?"

Hyunjin nods, chewing. “It’s good. I like your avocado toast more, though."

You take a moment to absorb the impact of his words, heart skipping a beat in your chest as you gaze at him from across the table, cheeks burning. There is a brief moment where you stare awkwardly at each other, unsure of what to say, before you quickly laugh it off and push his bowl of bibimbap closer to him. "Just eat."

After lunch, you take Hyunjin to the local café and introduce him to iced americanos, which he adores immediately. You grin as he lets the aromatic flavor of caffeine sit on his tongue, nodding approvingly at the taste.

"Why didn't you introduce me to this drink earlier?" Hyunjin asks, examining his plastic cup of americano. "It tastes wonderful."

You smile. "It does?"

He nods.

"It also tastes.." he trails off, searching for the appropriate word, "familiar. It tastes familiar."

"Like you've had it before?"

Hyunjin nods again. You consider this piece of information before sighing— it's been twelve days and you still feel no closer to figuring out what exactly happened to Hyunjin before he washed ashore onto your island. What little Hyunjin remembers is so arbitrary and insignificant that it's practically impossible to piece his memories together. Handing a ₩10000 banknote to the cashier, you step back outside, walking in the direction of the grocery store. Hyunjin follows behind you quietly.

"I just have to go grocery shopping and then we can go home," you tell him, hoisting your bag higher up onto your shoulder. "We're out of avocados and I can't function properly without avocados."

Hyunjin nods, before reaching out an arm to absentmindedly guide you to the inner side of the sidewalk as a car streaks noisily past you on the street.

You swallow heavily and pretend that you don't find the protective gesture to be stupidly wholesome. Hyunjin walks close to you, hand brushing against your own with every step, and makes no move to take his hand away. You grit your teeth and mentally attempt to pull yourself together— you should most definitely not be going lightheaded over such a simple action.

By the time you come to a stop in front of the grocery store, the sun has already begun to set. Hyunjin lets out a gasp of amazement as you guide him into the store, pushing along a grocery cart.

He gazes around him in awe, taking in the huge shelves full of food. "Can you just take whatever you want?"

"Pretty much," you smile, "as long as you can pay for it."

He skips through the aisles, stopping occasionally to examine a random product and point it out to you delightedly. You smile as you push the grocery cart and observe him, a sharp pang of fondness resonating deep within your stomach.

Hyunjin draws your attention towards a snowglobe that swirls with glitter whenever you shake it, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"It's like you suddenly became ten years younger," you laugh.

Hyunjin flushes indignantly.

"But I like it!" you quickly say, to appease his temper. "It's cute."

He smiles at that.

By the end of your grocery trip, there are at least nine items in your grocery cart that you have absolutely no use for including the snowglobe that Hyunjin had found so fascinating, a new sketching notebook (your gift for Hyunjin), and a case of handmade soap (because Hyunjin thought they were too pretty to not buy). It's already late in the evening and the day's events have taken their toll on Hyunjin. He looks exhausted, winces in pain at even the slightest pressure applied to his back.

"We just have to checkout," you promise, glancing at Hyunjin worriedly, "then we can board the ferry and go back home."

So you wait in line at the checkout area and Hyunjin stands beside you, eyes tired and dull. By the time you've checked out, it's already dark outside.

You walk together on the side of the street, thoroughly exhausted. Hyunjin seems to be even worse off than you, letting out small exhales of discomfort every time he takes a step. "Just a few more minutes," you say, touching his arm gently, "hold on for a little longer."

He turns to give you a small smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, and you immediately forget whatever you were about to say. In fact, you are so captivated by his ethereal looks that you don't even hear the steady whirring of bicycle wheels from behind you until Hyunjin's eyes focus on something just to the right of your left shoulder. His eyes widen in alarm, and you turn around to see a bike cruising towards you at full speed, the rider waving their hands in the air, desperately gesturing for you to get out of the way.

It all happens so fast that you have no time to react. Instead, you brace yourself for the worst, squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

But it never comes.

Instead, everything goes deathly silent.

After about five seconds or so, you open your eyes again. The people surrounding you are motionless and frozen. Their faces are still animated with emotion, as if still in the middle of conversation.

You slowly turn to stare at the bicycle, which most definitely should have collided with you by now. Instead, it is frozen, although caught in the motion of streaking down the street. The rider too is completely stagnant, mouth opened in a silent scream of horror.

Time is, quite literally, frozen.

Everything stands still, motionless and paralyzed. That is, until you hear the scuffle of shoes against pavement from behind you and see Hyunjin, very much alive and moving, looking equally as shocked.

It doesn't take much to put the two and two together.

"You did this?"

Hyunjin shakes his head helplessly. "I don't know."

But he must have, you think. Because who else could have possibly done so if not him? You stare out into the frozen landscape, incredulous.

"Hyunjin," you breathe, wide-eyed and awed, "what exactly are you?"

Hyunjin presses his lips into a firm line. "I don't know, okay?"

He genuinely sounds so horrified that you resist the urge to gather him up in your arms and smooth a hand over his hair. He looks down at his feet, voice small and vulnerable. "I don't fucking know."

You gently wrap your fingers around his wrist, guiding him to the side of the street. Hyunjin lets himself be tugged along, eyes still trained to the ground.

Eventually, the world unfreezes. The people continue their conversations the moment they spring back to life as if nothing ever happened, and the bicycle continues its destructive course down the street. You marvel at the fact that for a good ten minutes, you and Hyunjin were the only human beings alive in the entire town.

Well, you were the only human being alive. You still don't know what Hyunjin is.

You silently guide Hyunjin to the harbor and board the ferry.

The ride back home is excruciatingly silent.

When you reach the lighthouse, you tend to Hyunjin's wounds and leave him to sleep on the couch. He falls asleep immediately, curling in on himself almost protectively. You brush his bangs out of his eyes and envelope him in a blanket.

You never knew you could have learned to care so intimately for someone in such a short period of time.

Before you leave, you place a plateful of avocado toast by Hyunjin's side for when he wakes up.

Then, you step outside to sit by the shore for a very long time.

Inside your house, asleep on your threadbare pull-out couch, there is someone who can freeze time itself. Whose body can heal itself before your very eyes.

The worst part is, it doesn't make you want him any less.

You tear him apart in your mind, telling yourself that he is a monster— something inhumane.

You should keep your distance from him, you think. Push him away from you. You can't allow him to stay. You can't keep him here with you and make him warm plates of avocado toast in the mornings and take him to the shore to go fishing for tuna.

But you are already waist-deep in those dark pools of liquid glass that he has for eyes.

You crouch down to drag a finger through the seafoam that gathers on the wet sand and allow yourself, for the first time in months, to think of Chan.

He was so similar, and yet so different from Hyunjin. He loved so obviously— held your hand in public and sent you boxes of chocolates on Valentine's Day. A vivid contrast to Hyunjin's quiet thoughtfulness. You had believed, wholly and naively, that you loved him, and that he loved you back.

And then came The Incident. The morning when you visited his apartment unannounced to pick up a sweater you had accidentally left there and found Chan on the sofa, all messy hair and puffy lips.

Against Chan's collarbone was the necklace you had gifted to him for your third anniversary, and in Chan's arms was Jo Miyeon.

Chan had nothing to say to you when you found out. You didn't really have anything to say, either. You just turned and left, crying all the way back to your apartment. You didn't even end up retrieving the sweater.

You hug your knees to your chest and dig your fingers into the soft sand. Chan had tried to contact you countless times after The Incident, sending you text after text begging you to hear him out. You told him to fuck off and blocked his number.

You feel a light weight against your back and turn to see Hyunjin bending to drape his coat over your shoulders before coming to sit beside you. You blink away any possible traces of tears from your eyes and turn to smile at him. "Feeling better?"

Hyunjin nods, before reaching up to gently graze a fingertip against your cheekbone. Your breath hitches in your throat. "What's with the face?"

His fingers remain against your cheeks.

"What do you mean?"

"You always have this look on your face whenever you've been feeling bad over something," he says, eyes still searching your own carefully.

You shake your head. "It's nothing."

Hyunjin sighs but doesn't push. Instead, he leans back a bit and gazes into the dark water of the sea. His bare forearm presses against your own, warm and reassuring. You pull his coat closer around your shoulders, hugging your knees tighter to your chest.

If Hyunjin senses your discomfort, he doesn't say anything. But he allows you to shift closer to him, allows you to relish the warmth he radiates as he sits next to you. You sit in silence, watching as the tide rolls in, crashing gently against the rocks and spraying the sand in frothy flecks of seafoam.

Hyunjin clears his throat gently from beside you. "Do you want to rewatch Howl's Moving Castle with me?"

So you walk with Hyunjin back to the house and watch Howl's Moving Castle together and momentarily, everything is okay.

Momentarily.

The next morning, you wake up and cook omelettes for breakfast. Hyunjin sits by you, chewing thoughtfully as you elucidate to him the purpose of laundry detergent. You've gotten used to Hyunjin's limited knowledge of society, and to be completely honest, it's quite enjoyable to explain to him the significance behind turning away when drinking with elders or why kimchi is such a staple food in Korean culture. Something about his innocence is terribly endearing.

Hyunjin spends the rest of the forenoon sitting by the shore, painting the sea in its misty gray morning glory. After mastering sketching, he's decided to pick up oil painting as well. Unsurprisingly, he excels in it.

You study for a bit but find it impossible to focus when you can just catch a glimpse of Hyunjin painting from the corner of your window in your bedroom. Instead, you decide to sweep out the walkway. It's an excellent excuse to spend more time in Hyunjin's presence.

After sweeping, you clear the path of any stray pebbles. As you near the end of the pathway, you find a dead dove lying limp against the gray stone of the walkway. Hyunjin comes running at your exclamation of shock, eyes flashing with worry. When his eyes fall onto the dove, something lights onto his features.

You are not sure what to call it.

Recognition? Horror?

He stares at the lifeless bird in silence, eyes sliding glassily over the white feathers scattered in a halo around the dove, the stain of blood against its slender neck. The awkward angle of the wings as it lies splayed out across the pathway.

You frown.

"Hyunjin," you say, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "what's wrong?"

Hyunjin slowly turns to look at you. There is nothing but pain in his dark eyes.

The first thing Hyunjin knew when he first opened his eyes was pain. A bottomless, aching pain from deep within his shoulder blades.

At first, it was all that he knew.

And then came a sense of loss. Hyunjin didn't know what he had lost, or how he could ever find it again.

All he knew was that he had lost something, and it had been very, very important to him.

But then you walked into the living room. Fed him the strange bread with the mushy layer of pulpy green spread on top with a scattering of salt and pepper. Tended to his wounds, with forbearing hands and lithe fingers. Took him fishing and taught him to laugh again.

The pain was still there, but with you, the aching subsided into a dull throb.

Hyunjin still didn't remember what he lost.

But bits and pieces of his past slowly came back to him, so tiny and seemingly negligible that he had given up on making any sense of them.

He remembered laughter on a city rooftop. Borrowed hoodies and iced americanos. He remembered a girl. He didn’t quite remember her name, or even what she looked like.

But he recollected the scent of rain and jasmine she carried with her. The silvery quality of her laughter.

Street hotdogs, drizzled in thick strands of ketchup.

Torn feathers and excruciating pain.

The slivers of memories came back to him at a sluggish rate, so slowly that he couldn't help but feel frustrated.

But as he stares at the dead dove, with its blood-soaked feathers and broken wings, it all comes crashing back onto him like a wave, a tsunami of memories.

And here is what he remembers.

He remembers nights spent laughing under the sheets of a twin bed. He remembers gliding through the night air on starlit wings.

He remembers laced fingers and tight embraces. Shared iced americanos in the comfort of a cramped apartment.

Most of all, he remembered the girl. Her name is still lost to him, but he can remember her voice now. Husky and clear, slightly brittle. He can't recall her face, but he remembers that the color of her eyes perfectly matched the hue of ground coffee beans.

He remembers being apprehended and brought to Him. Kneeling before Him and begging for forgiveness— and receiving only contempt instead. Having his wings torn from him, bloodstained feathers scattered across the ground. Feeling the slick warm sense of blood rushing from his back in crimson waves. Falling into the sea, blood still trickling from the deep gashes in his back.

He gazes at you, the memories still bearing down on him in a torrent. You're still staring at him, eyes flashing with concern.

"I think," Hyunjin says, "that I was an angel."

To your everlasting credit, you manage to keep any incredulity off your face.

"Was?"

Hyunjin nods. "I had my wings torn from me."

You frown. "For what?"

Hyunjin smiles, although it ends up twisting into a grimace.

"I fell in love."

You try, in vain, to ignore the stab of jealousy that shoots through you at his words. You swallow down the envy that tears at your throat, fighting to slip out of your mouth.

"Was it with the girl?" you ask, "the girl you mentioned you remembered?"

Hyunjin nods.

“Does she still remember you, too?”

He gives a tense scoff, pain flashing across his face. “She’s dead now. They killed her. As a punishment for falling in love with me.”

You don’t quite know what to say. The pain in Hyunjin’s voice is so audible that it tears through your chest. Hyunjin shakes his head, kicking at a stray pebble, before looking back up to you.

"Shouldn't you be more shocked about the fact that I was an angel?"

You pause. If you're being completely honest, there is a part of you that cannot wrap your mind around the entire situation. But a bigger part of you has always known that Hyunjin wasn't human, although an angel never really crossed your mind.

"I am shocked," you admit, "but it makes sense."

Hyunjin frowns again, but seems to be grateful for your minimal reaction.

"Are your scars from where your wings were?"

Hyunjin nods. "They were ripped from me when I fell."

"So is it, like, illegal to fall in love for an angel?"

"You make it sound so casual," Hyunjin smiles, "but yeah, it pretty much is. God always insisted that our only purpose would be to deliver his messages and worship him infinitely. It was always forbidden to fall in love."

You raise your eyebrows in alarm. "So you've actually seen God?"

"I was an angel," Hyunjin snorts, "I pretty much spent half of my time flying around in the human world and the other half kneeling before him worshiping or something."

"You could fly?"

You know the questions coming out of your mouth sound insanely dumb, but you also can't stop them from slipping out.

Hyunjin sighs. "That's one of the main attributes of being an angel."

You take a moment to survey the entire situation a little more thoroughly. Knowing and acknowledging that Hyunjin is a fallen angel is infinitely more difficult than just knowing and acknowledging that he isn't human. Hyunjin seems much more confident now that his memories have been restored. A little less lost, although he looks a bit dazed.

"Are all angels this good-looking?"

The question slips off your tongue, and you mentally slap yourself for not shutting up when you clearly should have. A smug grin makes its way on Hyunjin's face as he stares at you.

"You think I'm good-looking?"

"Just pretend I didn't say anything."

Hyunjin laughs, a grin stretching across his face. "Actually, I don't think I will."

You flush red, cheeks burning. Hyunjin gazes at you with something like endearment in his eyes. "And to answer your question, pretty much. We're all meant to look ethereal or whatever."

"Now that you know what you are," you say, swallowing hesitantly, "what are you going to do now?"

Hyunjin hesitates, ruminating quietly.

"I'm not sure," he admits. "Usually, fallen angels descend to Hell to serve Lucifer instead. But.."

He trails off, almost bashfully. You tilt your head. "But what?"

"I'd rather stay here with you."

Oh.

Your heart expands in your chest. You can't help the flush of delight that makes its way to your cheeks. "Didn't know you enjoyed my company that much."

"I'm only staying for the avocado toast."

"I liked you better when you were suffering from an identity crisis," you scoff. "Less cocky."

But you smile anyways, and take him fishing.

Just like that, your life with Hyunjin fades into a comfortable rhythm. Hyunjin grows into his own skin as the days progress, and you marvel at the transformation in his character ever since he retrieved his memories.

There isn't much of a shift in your relationship. Hyunjin still carries himself with a quiet thoughtfulness in his eyes, and you still wake him up every morning to make avocado toast for him.

Admittedly, there is a lot more mindless touching between the two of you. Gentle hand squeezes while walking along the length of the shore, sleepy backhugs while binging a k-drama that neither of you could give two fucks about. Hyunjin is so casual about it that you don't bother mentioning it to him.

Besides, you rather like it when he touches you.

You hardly ever think of Chan anymore. Not when you have Hyunjin here, with his shy laughter and dark eyes. The days pass by in a blur— a melty haze of sunkissed mornings and evenings spent sitting by the shore.

You think you could get used to this. This kind of life, with this boy who fell from Heaven by your side.

Next to you, Hyunjin shifts slightly, shoulder pressing into yours. You're sitting on the lumpy couch, a blanket pulled over your lap. Hyunjin stares at the screen of the television, eyes fixated onto the k-drama.

"Hyun," you say.

Hyunjin turns to glance at you expectantly. You don't know when exactly you had started to use the nickname— you suppose it just absentmindedly tumbled off your tongue one day. But Hyunjin seems to receive it well, and you're a sucker for the sheer domesticity of calling him by a nickname.

"Tomorrow, they'll be holding a huge festival celebration on the mainland for Chilseok," you say, "do you want to go?"

Hyunjin pauses. His back has been hurting more frequently recently, even though the infection has long since left his scars. You've been worrying over it, even though Hyunjin has been insisting that he's fine.

"They hold the festival every year," you explain, "to celebrate the one day Jiknyeo and Gyeonwu meet on a bridge made of magpies and crows. You haven't heard of it?"

Hyunjin shakes his head.

You sigh. "Well, anyway. They always make the best grilled wheat flour noodles at the festival, so I always go. Plus, they also make steamed rice cakes, which is a bonus."

Hyunjin's eyes light up at the mention of food as he nods eagerly.

The next morning, you board the ferry, taking Hyunjin along with you. He winces as he walks, and you feel a stab of worry pierce through your heart.

"Maybe we should go see a doctor or something," you say, glancing at him in concern.

Hyunjin smiles. "And then what? They'll find out about my supernatural properties and then I'll be used as a test subject for all their fucked up experiments. I'd rather not."

"But still, it's obviously getting worse. And I don't know how to fix it, either."

You frown, eyebrows furrowing uneasily. Hyunjin gazes at you for a moment, before reaching out to pull you into a backhug, pressing your back to his chest and resting his chin against the top of your head. "Don't worry about it. It'll be fine."

You allow yourself to lean into his touch, running a hand along the sleeve of his gray hoodie but continue to worry.

The mainland is already in chaos by the time you arrive. Normally, Chilseok isn't a huge festival in Korea, but here, it is easily one of the most celebrated ones. There are streamers decorating the roofs of the buildings, and the smell of wheat flour noodle soup boiling in the air. Hyunjin keeps you close to him as he presses through the crowds, reaching out a hand to grip your waist.

"Hyun, look," you say, gesturing towards a rice cake stand.

Normally, you dislike rice cake. But the ones they make at Chilseok are nothing short of heavenly, warm and sticky, topped with azuki beans. You lead Hyunjin over to the stand and quickly get in line.

Hyunjin stays by your side for a moment, before catching sight of a wheat pancake stall, pupils dilating in hunger.

Wordlessly, you hand him two crisp ₩10000 banknotes and gesture for him to go ahead. Normally, you would be worried about leaving Hyunjin on his own. But you know he needs more social exposure, and you think this would be a good opportunity to do so.

Hyunjin hesitates briefly, almost apprehensively. You laugh and give him a small shove. "Go on, it'll only be a moment."

Hyunjin trots off towards the stall, tightly clutching the banknotes in his hands, and you turn to retrieve a ₩10000 banknote from your wallet, humming to yourself.

And then a voice says your name from behind you.

You pause, your body stiffening instinctively, banknote clutched tightly in your hand.

You would recognize that voice anywhere, anytime.

Slowly, you turn around. Your stomach dips at the sight of him standing in front of you, eyes inquisitive and bright, skin glowing in the beam of sunlight that washes over him. Your chest seizes up at the sight of him.

"Chan."

He's dressed in a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. He looks good. Chan always looks good. Maybe he’d be a little easier to erase if he didn’t look so damn good all the fucking time.

Your voice turns hostile as you take a step back, eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't come to celebrate Chilseok too?" he laughs, taking a step forward. "Wasn't expecting to see you here, though."

You take another step back, almost bumping into the person in front of you in line. They shoot you a dirty look, which you ignore.

"Leave," you spit. "Now."

Chan rolls his eyes. "It's been months since we last saw each other, and this is how you greet me? I just came to say hi."

"Chan, go. I don't want to talk. I've got nothing to say to you, anyways."

Chan sighs and takes another step forward, making a move to grab your hand. But before he can do so, a warm hand comes to grasp your shoulder lightly.

Hyunjin stands next to you, staring at Chan almost belligerently.

"Hyunjin," you breathe. The relief in your voice is so apparent that even Chan seems to notice it.

Hyunjin doesn't take his eyes off Chan. "Who's he?"

Chan frowns. "I should be asking the same question."

Hyunjin's grip on your shoulder tightens. "Maybe you should mind your own fucking business."

You feel as if you might just explode with embarrassment. Chan barks out a short, bitter laugh.

"Got yourself a new boyfriend already? You moved on really fucking fast."

"Don't you think you're being a little hypocritical? If I recall correctly, wasn't it you who cheated on me?"

Hyunjin watches the exchange between you and Chan, realization slowly dawning on his face. You sigh, running a tired hand through your hair. "Just go, Chan. I don't have the energy to deal with you."

Chan opens his mouth to retort, but before he can do so, Hyunjin steps in between the two of you, forcing him to take a step back. "You heard them. Leave."

You watch as Chan's face hardens acidly.

"Fine. Have it your way."

He turns and leaves, hands clenched so tightly by his sides that his knuckles turn white. Hyunjin turns to you the moment he leaves, worry etched into his face.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you say, grinning up at him. "You didn't have to come save me, you know? I was perfectly capable of handling the situation by myself."

Hyunjin's face softens into a smile as he reaches up to brush off a strand of grass from your hair. "You would have done the same thing if it had been me."

You roll your eyes but don't try to oppose him. He's right, anyways. "Did you get the wheat pancakes?"

Hyunjin holds up a white paper bag victoriously. "The woman operating the stall even offered to give me another 2 pancakes for free! The people are so nice here."

"They're not nice," you laugh, "they just think you're handsome."

Hyunjin flushes, ears going red. You laugh again, something like adoration pulsing through you as you gaze at him. From behind you, someone clears their throat. You turn to see the rice cake stand operator staring at you expectantly.

Hurriedly, you hold out a ₩10000 banknote to him, cheeks burning and accept the rice cakes he gives you apologetically. Hyunjin stifles a laugh as you trod off, still red with embarrassment.

You sit down by a bench to eat the rice cakes, Hyunjin coming to sit beside you. You groan in ecstasy the moment you bite into a cake, eyes closing in delight. Hyunjin smiles. "Is it good?"

You nod earnestly, reaching into the bag to hold out another skewer of rice cakes for Hyunjin. "You should try some, they taste heavenly."

Hyunjin takes a bite, chewing silently. "It's good. Still not as good as the food from Heaven, though."

You stare at him. "You ate food in Heaven?"

He nods, examining the skewer of rice cake in his hand. "We usually ate manna, although we had ambrosia too sometimes."

You smile. "It sounds good."

"It was," Hyunjin nods emphatically, "ambrosia always tasted different every time you had it."

He speaks with something almost akin to longing in his voice. You are silent for a moment, contemplating.

"Do you miss being an angel?"

Hyunjin pauses, before shrugging. "It was fun. But it was full of restraints and limitations. There were always so many rules— I always knew I'd end up getting my wings taken away anyways. I was too impulsive to be a good angel."

He turns to smile at you shyly, eyes crinkling into crescent moons.

"Besides, I like it here with you."

You exhale slowly. Hyunjin stares at you with such open adoration in his eyes, such pure trust. You throb with want, with the need to love this fallen angel with the scars carved deep into his back and dark eyes that glow with stardust with everything that you are— everything that you ever will be.

Before you can think it through, you lean forward and capture his lips with your own.

You feel Hyunjin tense up momentarily, stiffening in shock, before immediately reciprocating the kiss. He tastes like sticky rice cake and sea salt, thick and sweet against your lips. You allow him to lean further into you, a hand slowly coming up to cup your cheek and the other coming to grip your waist lightly.

You break apart after a few moments to breathe, lips puffy and swollen. Hyunjin hums lowly from the back of his throat, hand still pressed against your cheek. You allow him to nose along your jaw, pressing chaste kisses against your jawline.

"Hyun," you mumble, running a hand through his hair. Hyunjin gives a hum in response, grazing his lips against your cheekbone. You sit back a bit, gently pushing him away. He gives an disgruntled huff but leans back to stare at you expectantly.

Biting your lip, you glance around you. There are several people staring at you already. "We shouldn't do it here."

"Let's go back home, then," he says, immediately standing up and holding out a hand to you.

His eagerness is endearing. You laugh as you take his hand, allowing him to pull you up. Hyunjin doesn't let go of your hand as he pulls you along into the direction of the ferry, dark locks of hair flying in the wind. He wraps you in a tight embrace the entire ride home, pressing you against the railing of the ferry and leaving butterfly kisses across your cheeks, oblivious to the dirty looks the ferryman keeps on sending your way as he operates the boat.

You almost consider apologizing to the man for all the troubles he's gone through with the two of you, but then Hyunjin brushes a kiss to the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and your mind goes blank as you pull Hyunjin closer, wrapping your arms tight around his torso.

The two of you end up spending the rest of the evening kissing and talking, lying in a tangled mess on the couch. You binge watch a k-drama, although you don't end up remembering a single thing the next morning except for the way Hyunjin cupped your cheeks warmly as he kissed you, the way he leaned into you when you pulled him into a backhug, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling his back into your chest.

You think that this must be the happiest you've ever been. Wrapped tightly in Hyunjin's arms, lips molded against his on the mangy couch of your living room.

You remember how your mother had once told you to be careful with the way you lived your life— that the gods hated to see humans too happy. But you are too intoxicated in the drug that is Hyunjin to care much about what gods think.

You don't bother defining the relationship.

You think that it's unnecessary. Partly because Hyunjin has grown up without knowledge of human norms and seems to see no need in defining whatever it is he has with you, and partly because there is no need to. In the haven that is the lighthouse by the sea, it feels almost irrelevant to live life by rigid definitions and ideologies— it seems much more fitting to live in between the lines, uncharted and hazy.

But you know that you love Hyunjin. This you know better than anything. And you think, at least, that Hyunjin loves you.

It is only during the first week of August that you know for sure that Hyunjin loves you back.

July goes by so quickly that it almost seems as if it never happened in the first place. You lose yourself in Hyunjin's charms, in his raspy morning voice as he stumbles into the kitchen to wrap you into a sleepy backhug as you fry eggs for the two of you or his habit of leaving trails of butterfly kisses against your fingertips as he sits next to you.

Living with Hyunjin seems to be Heaven on earth— a very accurate metaphor considering the fact that Hyunjin was quite literally an angel. But as wonderful as it all is, it is also painfully obvious that there is something wrong with him.

Although the wounds on his back seem to heal at first, they quickly worsen during the period of July. The pain starts off only as a dull throbbing, but soon expands into a sharp and agonizing ache. Hyunjin insists that he is fine, brushing it off with a dismissive smile, but you find it impossible to believe.

Not when he tosses and turns on the couch at night in pain, unable to find a comfortable position to sleep without hurting his back.

You continue to tend to his wounds daily and press him to see a doctor. Hyunjin, again, refuses, saying that he'd rather stay here— that he couldn't risk being discovered to be an angel.

You never realized angels could be so stubborn.

By the first week of August, Hyunjin can hardly get out of bed without wincing in pain. Dark corded veins run along the lengths of his scars, so dark that they almost look black. You can do nothing but keep by his side, pressing poultices to his wounds and running a cool towel across his sweaty forehead. Neither of you can understand why it is that his wounds only seem to worsen, even though they show no sign of infection or contamination.

It isn't until Felix comes a few days later that everything makes much more sense.

Felix comes in all his angelic glory, dressed in dark jeans and a white t-shirt, halcyon ivory wings sprouting from his back. He walks almost hesitantly up the pathway and comes to knock at the door of the lighthouse. When you open the door a few seconds later, you both end up screaming in surprise at the sight of each other.

Hyunjin quickly comes over to the doorway after hearing your scream and halts the commotion by hurriedly explaining to you that Felix used to be one of his angel companions. You quickly compose yourself and let Felix into the house, blushing furiously.

Admittedly, you probably should have seen that coming. But when a real live angel is standing right in front of you, it's difficult to do anything but scream and stare. Felix comes to sit by the couch, wings folded up awkwardly behind him. He introduces himself shortly, his seraphic face a stark contrast to his deep voice.

Hyunjin sits by him rigidly, hands held stiffly in his lap. He keeps on casting side glances at you, as if checking if you were alright. It would be a cute gesture, you think, if the atmosphere wasn't so tense.

The moment Felix finishes his introductions, he jumps straight to the point. Turning to face Hyunjin, he studies him worriedly. "Has it started yet?"

"Has what started?" Hyunjin asks, frowning.

"The pain. Have the scars started to hurt yet?"

Hyunjin swallows, and turns to look at you. You stare at him mutely from across the couch, eyes wide. Slowly, Hyunjin turns to face Felix again and gives a short nod.

Felix groans, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. There is a dusting of freckles across his cheeks and his nose, you notice. His skin practically glows in the dimly lit space of your living room.

Hyunjin leans in closer to Felix, staring at him expectantly. "Do you know why it's happening? How we can stop it?"

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yourself," Felix says, "an angel like you isn't supposed to exist in the human world in the first place, even if you have fallen. You have to descend to Hell so you can fully metamorphose into a demon."

Hyunjin's frown deepens as he considers Felix.

"I can only stay for half an hour at the most. I had Changbin cover for me so that I wouldn't be caught, but he can only conceal my absence for so long. If they find out that I visited you, they'll expel me too." Felix cautions. "I just came to warn you. Even if you've fallen, you're still one of my closest friends."

You feel overwhelmed by the sudden torrent of information. Swallowing hard, you tuck your hands underneath your thighs and look down into your lap. You can feel Hyunjin's gaze boring into you, but you don't look up.

"Is there any way I can stay here?" Hyunjin asks. "Without having to leave for Hell?"

Felix shakes his head. "You were never made to exist as something in between, Hyunjin. It was always to be either a demon or an angel. There is no gray area. If you stay here, you'll die."

You don't dare look up, afraid that your eyes will betray you.

Felix lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his blonde locks of hair. "Hyunjin, this is a life or death scenario. Why the fuck are you hesitating?"

Hyunjin stares hard at your trembling frame, willing you to look at him. You keep your eyes trained to your lap. Felix slowly follows his gaze until his eyes set onto you and glances between you and Hyunjin, eyes narrowed.

"Don't tell me you're—"

"Yeah. Yeah, we are."

Hyunjin has never spoken in such a hard tone since that day with Chan. You almost don't recognize his voice.

"Again?" Felix groans, sighing. "Was the first time not enough?"

Hyunjin shrugs wordlessly, sitting back into the couch. You sit in silence, contemplating, although there really is nothing to contemplate about. The answer is obvious, although painfully hard to admit.

"Hyun," you say, looking up. Hyunjin glances up to look at you, something like hope glinting in his dark eyes. "You should go. It's wrong of me to keep you here."

His face falls at your words, the light in his eyes flickering out. You tell yourself that this is what was to be expected. After all, the past few months with him really were too good to be true.

Standing up abruptly, you turn to trudge into your bedroom. "You can leave first thing in the morning."

"But what if I want to stay?" Hyunjin challenges, glaring at you defiantly. "What if I would rather stay here? You can't force me out."

"Actually, I can. It's my house," you say, and hate yourself for the way Hyunjin flinches at your words, the hurt that flashes across his face. "Leave by tomorrow morning."

Hyunjin catches your wrist as you brush past him, gazing at you with pleading eyes. You press your lips into a firm line and shake your head.

"You have to go, Hyunjin," you say, softly. "There's no other way."

You tug your wrist from his grip and walk stiffly away from him, hands held tightly to your sides.

Felix watches your exchange silently, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You stumble into your bedroom and collapse onto the bed, burrowing under the sheets.

Your mother did not lie.

The gods truly did hate to see humans too happy— hated it enough that they would dare to take Hyunjin away from you.

You lie in bed, staring at the white plaster of your ceiling, and wonder if Hyunjin will miss you just as much as you miss him.

A few hours later, Hyunjin slips into your bedroom and comes to sit by your bedside. You don't ever dare to look at him.

He reaches out to place a plate of avocado toast by your bedside, pausing for a long moment to stare at you. The look in his eyes is so full of longing that it takes a considerable amount of self-control to refrain from pulling him into your arms and kissing him.

You turn away from him, and hug your arms around yourself.

"When you leave tomorrow, just go. Don't bother saying goodbye."

Hyunjin makes a soft noise of protest from the back of his throat.

"It'll be easier for both of us that way."

You can hear Hyunjin swallow hard as he gazes at you from the doorway of your bedroom. But his voice is hard and steely as he speaks.

"Fine. Have it your way."

You end up telling yourself repeatedly throughout the course of the night that Hyunjin's departure will be easier without farewells.

When you hear Hyunjin rouse from the couch at 5 am the next morning, it takes an enormous amount of restraint to keep from tearing out of the bedroom and pulling him into a tight embrace. You sit in bed, teeth gritted, and tell yourself that it'll be for the greater good.

You eventually give in by the time you hear Hyunjin slip out of the lighthouse. Slipping on a fuzzy pair of bunny slippers and a thin hoodie, you run out after him. Hyunjin is standing by the shore when you reach him, dark hair blowing in the wind. He turns in surprise when you call out his name, although the shock immediately morphs into relief.

You come to stand a few feet away from him, panting.

Hyunjin's eyes sweep over your frame, taking in the fluffy bunny slippers and the striped pajamas. You are too anxious to feel embarrassed.

"Sorry," you breathe, "I couldn't stand it."

Hyunjin looks tempted to tease you for a moment, before deciding against it. Instead, he smiles and brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. "I'm glad you came."

You feel unsure of what to do. For the first time in weeks, there is an awkward tension between the two of you. Eventually, Hyunjin steps forward and pulls you into a hug. You wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek against his chest. The two of you stay like that for a moment before breaking apart.

"Take care of yourself in Hell, okay?"

Hyunjin nods.

"I don't think I'll ever see you again," you swallow, looking up to gaze at him with glassy eyes. "But thank you for everything."

Hyunjin stares at you mutely, eyes wide. Something flickers in his eyes that you can’t quite pinpoint.

Perhaps it is love.

"The days I spent with you were the happiest moments of my life. I'm glad I met you, Hyunjin."

You let his name sit heavy on your tongue, relishing the sweet aftertaste it leaves in your mouth. Hyunjin reaches out a hand to cup your cheek.

"I'll come back to you one day," he says, almost fiercely. "I will."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," you grin, pushing his hand away from your cheek.

"I plan to keep this one."

Hyunjin genuinely looks so determined that you don't bother arguing back. Instead, you smile and nod. "Okay. Come back to me, then. Someday."

Dawn breaks out across the sky, a soft orange sun peaking out from behind the gray clouds. You take a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself. "You probably should get going."

Hyunjin doesn't say anything, so you turn, almost awkwardly, and prepare to walk away. Hyunjin catches your wrist right before you leave and tugs you to him, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

You give a small gasp in surprise but allow him to press his lips against yours, hard. The kiss only lasts for a few moments before Hyunjin pulls back, breathing heavily.

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek before quickly turning to walk away. You don't think you'll be able to bring yourself to leave if you don't go now. Hyunjin watches you go, silently, eyes following your retreating figure.

By the time you've reached the lighthouse, he's disappeared.

Without Hyunjin, the months pass by in dreary monotone.

You move back to Seoul by the time autumn comes around to enroll into college, renting a tiny apartment in Pyeongchang. Although there have been a few who have expressed interest in you, your love life remains static and passive.

How can you have anyone else, you think, when you've had Hyunjin?

Instead, you throw yourself into your studies and try to forget about the boy from the summer, with the dark locks of hair and striking eyes. Admittedly, you only end up thinking of him more in your attempt to forget him, but it doesn't keep you from trying.

It is during a stormy winter night that Hyunjin first comes back to you.

You are sitting by your desk, finishing up a couple of college assignments when you hear a soft knock by your balcony door.

You are unsuspecting as you pull open the door, expecting it to be a pigeon collision or something similar— over the short expanse of time you've spent living in Seoul, you have learned of the shocking amount of moronic pigeons that subside on the streets of Seoul.

So your shock is plausible when you yank open the door to find Hyunjin standing on the balcony.

You let out a yell of surprise, falling backwards. Hyunjin stifles a laugh as he observes you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Standing up quickly, you brush off your pants and before you can stop yourself—

"What are you doing here?"

Hyunjin looks slightly taken aback. "Why, don't you want to see me?"

"I mean, yes, but.." you falter, "I wasn't expecting it to be so soon."

"Have you missed me?"

You shrug. "Not really. I've been really busy lately."

(That was a lie. There hasn't been a day where you haven't thought of Hyunjin and missed him profusely.)

Hyunjin grins.

"You're a terrible liar."

You splutter in protest and Hyunjin laughs, flicking his bangs out of his eyes. "If it makes you feel any better, you're always on my mind too."

Flushing, you allow yourself a moment to admire him, taking in his feline eyes and lean frame. He looks so much healthier than how you left him, skin taking on a gentle glow. Dark wings sprout from his back, sleek and glossy. You let out a small gasp the moment you lay your eyes on them.

"You have wings?"

Hyunjin smiles. "That's kind of the point of being a demon, you know."

You approach him to run a hand along the black feathers. They are as soft as you imagined them to be, rippling like water underneath your touch.

"They suit you."

"Yeah?" Hyunjin smiles. "I've gotten pretty used to them."

Eventually, after a bit of jostling and adjusting, you manage to fit Hyunjin into the apartment. He keeps his wings folded neatly behind him, careful to keep from knocking anything to the ground. The moment you close the balcony door and turn to him, he steps forward to mold his lips against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck and revel in the taste of Hyunjin against your lips. It's been a very, very long time since you've had him like this, pressed against you, lips moving against your own.

After a few moments, you break apart.

"How did you even get here in the first place?" you ask, breathless.

Hyunjin shrugs. "I pulled a few strings here and there. It took a lot of planning, but it all worked out, eventually."

You lean forward eagerly. "What's Hell like?"

"Way better than what they make it out as," Hyunjin laughs. "I can take you there, one day. Just to see what it's like. And to meet all my friends."

You end up spending the rest of the night sprawled on the couch, talking. You come to realize the magnitude of your yearning as you sit by Hyunjin, listening to him ramble about the breakfast buffet they have in Hell that happens to serve 279 different types of food. He runs a finger along the length of your forearm as he talks, eyes animated and alive.

You've spent so long pining for him that it feels surreal to have him beside you.

When Hyunjin runs out of things to ramble about, he turns to you expectantly. "What about you?"

"Nothing's really been happening with me," you smile ruefully, running a fingertip across the sleek expanse of his dark wings, "my life's really fucking boring compared to yours. Or at least, it's been extremely dull without you."

Hyunjin absorbs your words quietly.

When he turns to stare at you, there is nothing but raw emotion written across his face. His voice is low as he speaks up.

"It's not just you, you know. I miss you more than anything, too."

You bite your lip, looking down into your lap. "When are you leaving?"

"I'll have to leave by the morning," he says, gently.

"Will you ever come back again?"

"I'll have to," he smiles. "I can't go more than half a year without seeing your face at least once."

And then you shove his shoulder and ask him when the fuck did he get so cheesy and he laughs and insists that it's just his love for you and you indulge in the sense of normalcy— the sense of conventionality you feel as he sits next to you, head rested against your shoulder.

That's how you end up falling asleep. In a tangled mess of limbs on the couch, under a thick cocoon of blankets. Hyunjin's wings wrap around you as he presses you to his chest, sighing contentedly. You settle into his embrace and try your best to not think of what is to come by the time dawn breaks.

By the time you awaken, Hyunjin is already up. He is sitting by the couch, watching your sleeping form with something fierce and aching in his eyes.

You let out a sleepy groan, rubbing your eyes blearily. “Leaving already?”

Hyunjin nods wordlessly.

For some reason, it is much, much harder to let him go the second time.

This time, it is you who initiates the kiss. You draw him to you by the doorway of the apartment and press your lips against his, letting out a soft exhale of relief as your lips connect. Hyunjin kisses you back for a moment, before gently detangling your arms from him, stepping back. You watch him go silently.

You are already missing him by the time you close the door to your apartment.

Hyunjin comes back to you for the second time the next summer.

You decide to return to the island after your college semester ends, choosing to relive the nostalgia of last year. Your friends complain loudly when you announce your decision to them, but don't object. You spend the first month or so tending to the lighthouse, occasionally going on fishing trips or collecting shells.

It is not the same without Hyunjin.

You choose to stay at home during Chilseok— you enjoy nostalgia, but not to an extent that you would travel to the same place you and Hyunjin kissed exactly one year ago.

So instead of traveling to town to eat azuki bean rice cakes and grilled wheat flour noodles, you go fishing.

You are walking along the shore, clutching a pail full of fishing gear, when you spot Hyunjin's body, washed up on the shore. Your breath catches in your throat as you run to him, heart beating wildly in your chest.

There is dried salt caked over his collarbones and sand pressed to the pale column of his throat.

Nevertheless, he is breathing. You let out a deep sigh of relief.

It only takes you the rest of the evening to drag him back to the lighthouse. There is a sense of regularity in your actions, although the entire situation is exceedingly absurd.

After all, what are the chances of Hyunjin washing up on your island not once, but two times?

You are rinsing out the salt from his hair when you realize that his wings are gone.

Very slowly, and very carefully, you roll him over and find that his back is free of any blemishes or scars. There is only a smooth expanse of skin where black wings should be. Your breath hitches in your throat.

You don't allow yourself to hope.

Instead, you drape a blanket over his unconscious form and wait until he regains consciousness.

It doesn't take long.

In a few hours, his eyelids flutter open. Slowly, he sits up. You watch him carefully, sitting next to him by the couch.

His eyes flicker to you. For a long and terrible moment, you are afraid that he will not recognize you. That his memory will be completely erased, just like last time.

But then he utters your name, voice hoarse and hesitant. And you are throwing yourself onto him, laughing and hugging and sobbing all at once. Hyunjin groans as you pull him into a crushing embrace but smiles anyway, rubbing away the tears that spill from your eyes with his fingertips.

"How did you come back?" you gasp. "And where are your wings?"

Hyunjin grins sheepishly.

"It took me forever to convince Lucifer," he says, "but he gave in, eventually."

"Convince him of what?"

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. "What do you think? To turn me human, of course."

You stare at him, speechless.

After a long moment of silence, you finally speak up. "So you can, like, stay here now? With me? Forever?"

Hyunjin grins.

The euphoria that floods your veins at Hyunjin's smile is indescribable in its magnitude.

"How did you do it?" you breathe. "Hyunjin, how the fuck did you manage it?"

"It's not like Lucifer hasn't fallen in love before either," he shrugs, "he sympathized with me. Besides, I was constantly slacking off on my duties as a devil. Couldn't stop thinking about you."

He's hardly finished talking before you're tripping forward to kiss him, almost feverishly. You recall the past year you've spent, longing and waiting, and feel that it is indefinitely worth it now that he's here with you, in your cramped living room on the lumpy couch, salty-sweet against your lips.

Hyunjin wraps an arm around you, and you fall into his embrace.

You think that you will love him like this for infinity, in this lifetime, and in the thousands of other lifetimes you will chase him across.

"But love is impossible, and it goes on despite the impossible." — Ada Limón, In a Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me.

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