Inkandtension - June, 18

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What's Left

Broken! Minho x Hurt! Reader

The night was heavy with the scent of rain and earth, the air thick and suffocating. Y/N stood at the edge of the crumbling balcony, their hand gripping the cold stone railing. The city below was cloaked in shadows, a sea of lights swallowed by the storm clouds gathering above. They had been standing there for what felt like hours, watching the world move on without them.

Behind them, Minho stirred.

"You think standing out here will change something?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a blade. Y/N didn't turn around. They didn't need to. They could feel him—his presence clinging to the air, dark and suffocating. It was always like this with Minho. He never stayed away for long.

"I don't expect anything to change," Y/N replied, their voice hollow, distant. "I just needed a moment."

"A moment?" Minho’s laugh was sharp, cruel. "A moment won't fix you, Y/N. A moment won't fix us."

Y/N’s grip tightened on the railing, knuckles white. The words hung between them, heavier than the storm that threatened to break above. They both knew it was true. Nothing was going to fix them—not the endless nights of silence, not the fleeting touches, not the words unsaid. Not even the twisted bond that tied them together could make sense of what they had become.

And yet, Minho was still there. He was always there.

When you finally turned to face him, Minho was leaning against the doorframe, his silhouette half hidden in the shadows. His eyes were cold, hard, and yet there was something in them, something fragile—something you could never quite reach.

"Why do you stay?" your voice was barely more than a breath, a whisper caught in the storm.

Minho’s lips curled into that familiar, crooked smile. It was the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. "You think I have a choice?"

Y/N didn’t answer. They both knew the truth. Whatever twisted, rotted thing existed between them, it had been there for too long. Minho’s heart, battered and broken, still belonged to you. As much as he tried to deny it, to fight it, he couldn’t escape the hold you had on him.

"You’ve always had me, Y/N," Minho said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer. His voice was softer now, laced with something darker, something almost... tender. "Even if you don’t want me. Even if I’m nothing but a shell."

Y/N watched him approach, the storm rumbling in the distance. There was something tragic in the way Minho carried himself, as though the weight of his own existence was too much to bear. His eyes, once so full of life, were now hollow, haunted by memories neither of them could forget.

"It’s not about wanting you, Minho," Y/N whispered, their chest tightening. "It’s about what’s left."

Minho stopped just inches from them, his gaze locked on theirs. For a moment, there was only the sound of the storm, the wind howling around them, and the distant crash of thunder. Then, slowly, Minho reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. His touch was cold, almost mechanical, but you didn’t pull away.

"It’s always been about what’s left," Minho murmured. "And what’s left is mine."

you closed your eyes, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a physical force. you could feel it—the darkness inside him, the decay that had taken root long ago. But beneath all of that, buried deep within the ruin, there was something still alive, something that pulsed weakly, but steadily.

His heart.

"It’s broken," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. "You’re broken."

Minho laughed, the sound hollow and bitter. "I’ve been broken for a long time, Y/N. But you knew that, didn’t you? You knew it from the start."

you opened your eyes and met his gaze. In that moment, there was no anger, no hatred. Just the two of them, standing in the ruins of what had once been. Fragments of what remained.

"I don’t want to fix you," you said softly. "I never wanted to."

Minho’s smile faltered, just for a second, and in that moment, you saw him. The real him. The one who had been hiding behind the cruelty, the madness, the darkness. The one who had been waiting, hoping, for something—anything—to change.

But nothing ever did.

"Then why do you stay?" Minho asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached up, your hand covering his, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt warmth. Not from Minho, but from the connection between you both—faint, fragile, but still alive.

"Because," you said, their voice steady, "what’s left is still mine."

It’s yours—that rotted heart of his, shriveled and shabby, riddled with holes and decay, half-eaten by maggots and worms it might be, but it’s still yours. Even when his eyes flicker with madness, when his smile curls at the edges, jagged and wrong, there's a part of him that never strays too far. You own the crumbling pieces, the ones he hides beneath layers of venom and spite. He may not admit it—he’d rather burn the world than speak it aloud—but in the quiet, in the spaces between his cruelty, it’s there.

Beating. Faint.

Still yours.

L-L-Love.

Unemployed! Felix x Employer! Reader (fem)

Felix was having one of those days. The kind where the world felt a little heavier, the sky a little too grey, and every small inconvenience seemed like a personal attack. It didn’t help that he was now standing in the lobby of a company he had no business working for, hoping for a lifeline from his friend Seungmin.

"Why the hell did I think perfume was my calling?" Felix muttered to himself, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He felt out of place—like a stray dog wandering into a royal palace.

The lobby itself was too pristine for his liking, all white marble floors and cold, sharp edges. Everything smelled faintly of expensive fragrance, a constant reminder of just how out of his depth he was. Felix shifted uncomfortably, waiting for Seungmin to show up, his nerves gnawing at him. If Seungmin didn’t come through for him soon, he was going to bolt.

Seungmin finally arrived, looking all too smug in his tailored suit. “Relax, man. You look like you’re about to pass out. You’ll be fine.”

“I doubt it,” Felix grumbled, running a hand through his hair. "This place gives me the creeps. Like it's too… perfect. And the last thing I need is some uptight CEO chewing me out."

Seungmin gave him a sideways glance, a smirk forming on his lips. "Uptight? I never said anything about her being uptight."

Felix let out a heavy sigh. “You know what I mean. All CEOs are the same—cold, calculating, and out for blood. It’s not exactly my vibe.”

“You’ll be fine. The boss might be strict, but she’s not heartless," Seungmin replied, eyes glinting with some kind of secret amusement Felix couldn’t place. “Just stay on her good side.”

Felix rolled his eyes, barely paying attention, when something—or rather someone—caught his eye.

She walked across the lobby with a quiet confidence that seemed out of place in this antiseptic environment. The fluorescent lights glowed faintly around her, and Felix swore the air itself softened in her wake. Her features were sharp yet delicate, like someone had carefully sculpted her from pure elegance. There was something so effortlessly striking about her that Felix felt his throat tighten.

She was beautiful—no, beyond that. She was like something out of a dream. The way she carried herself, so sure and unbothered by the world around her, made everything else fade into insignificance. For the first time all morning, things made sense. It was as if the weight of his day lifted just a little, his mind refocusing on this singular figure.

“Who’s that?” Felix whispered, his voice barely audible as he leaned toward Seungmin, eyes locked on the woman across the lobby. It wasn’t just curiosity; it was an overwhelming compulsion that he couldn’t explain. Something about her presence commanded his attention, as if the entire room had dimmed except for the spotlight shining directly on her.

Her movements were deliberate and elegant, each step she took seemingly in sync with the steady beat of Felix’s suddenly racing heart. She wasn’t just beautiful—there was an aura about her that made everyone else in the room seem insignificant, like background noise. Felix didn’t want to blink, afraid that if he did, she’d vanish as quickly as she appeared.

Seungmin glanced lazily in her direction, then back at Felix, amusement flashing in his eyes. The smirk on Seungmin’s face only deepened the unease growing in Felix’s chest. Seungmin knew something. He always did. “Oh, her?” Seungmin’s voice was casual, almost too casual. “Yeah, I know her.”

Felix raised an eyebrow at his friend, suspicion bubbling under the surface. “You know her?” he asked, his tone laced with doubt. There was something in the way Seungmin said it, something teasing, something Felix couldn’t quite place but knew to be wary of. Seungmin had always been the type to enjoy watching Felix squirm, and Felix got the distinct feeling this was one of those moments.

Seungmin’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with a kind of secret Felix wasn’t privy to yet. “Yeah,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

Felix’s mind raced, his thoughts tumbling over one another. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way she had carried herself, the effortless grace in her posture, the confident way she moved through the space. Her expression had been focused, intense even, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was important. Too important for someone like him to approach, and yet…

He swallowed hard, and before he could talk himself out of it, the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Do you think I could… maybe get her number?”

The second the words were out, Felix felt a flush of heat rise to his face. What was he doing? He didn’t even know her name, much less anything else about her, yet here he was, acting like some love-struck fool. But there was something about her—something he couldn’t shake. Something that made the usually confident Felix feel a little off-balance, like gravity had shifted around her.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a slow, almost disbelieving grin spreading across his face. “You?” he said, clearly amused. “Asking for a girl’s number during a job interview?”

Felix groaned, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “Don’t make it weird,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if that could somehow wipe away the embarrassment. “I just—look, she’s… I don’t know. She’s different.”

Seungmin looked like he was on the verge of bursting into laughter, but he held it together, though not without a significant amount of effort. “Different? You barely know her.”

Felix felt the weight of Seungmin’s teasing, but he couldn’t let it go. “You didn’t see her like I did,” he insisted, voice softening as he glanced back toward where she had disappeared down the hallway. “There’s something about her, Seungmin. She’s… I don’t know. It’s like she’s not even real.”

Seungmin’s smirk didn’t fade, but there was a flicker of something—maybe amusement, maybe pity—in his eyes. “Felix, buddy, you’re acting like you’ve been hit by Cupid’s arrow.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Felix muttered.

She glanced at Felix, her eyes flicking over him for the briefest second before moving on as if he were just another piece of office decor. She gave Seungmin a nod and continued walking, disappearing into one of the sleek glass offices.

“What was that about?” Felix asked, feeling more out of the loop than ever.

Seungmin just smirked, enjoying this.

As Felix watched her walk by again, his heart hammered in his chest. His mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, but the loudest one was simple: Don’t let her go. Without thinking, he blurted out, “Hey, excuse me!”

She turned slowly, her sharp, captivating eyes locking onto his, and Felix felt like the world around them blurred for a second. He swallowed hard. Her expression was unreadable, her eyebrow slightly raised in question, but she didn’t look annoyed. Yet.

“Uh, hi,” Felix stammered, trying to gather himself. He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to play it cool, but the nervous energy practically buzzed off him. “I know this is, like, probably the worst time… considering I’m here for a job interview and all, but I—I just couldn’t help myself.”

She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. “Couldn’t help yourself with what?” Her tone was calm, but there was a slight edge to it, like she was testing him.

Felix bit his lip, steeling himself for whatever was going to happen next. “You see, I don’t usually do this—especially not when I’m, uh, supposed to be here for a professional reason. But when I saw you… something clicked. Like, I don’t know—one of those cheesy moments where the room fades out, and all you can see is one person. Yeah, I know it sounds ridiculous.”

Her lips quirked slightly, just a tiny hint of amusement. “Go on.”

He felt emboldened, taking her slight reaction as encouragement. “Look, I know I’m coming off as the guy who’s way too forward, but I just have to say it. You’re—well, you’re kind of like the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long time. And I’m not just talking about the way you look—although, yeah, I’d be lying if I didn’t mention that. There’s something about the way you carry yourself that’s got me completely... captivated. Like I’m supposed to meet you, you know?”

She blinked, her face still mostly unreadable, but there was something behind her eyes now—a flicker of curiosity.

“So, what I’m trying to say is… Would it be too forward to ask for your number?” Felix scratched the back of his head, offering her a sheepish smile. “I mean, life’s short, right? They always say love finds you in the most unexpected places. Who’s to say this—" he gestured awkwardly between them, "—isn’t one of those moments?”

She stared at him for a beat, her expression unreadable once again. Then, to Felix’s utter surprise, a soft, almost teasing smile crept across her lips.

“Love, huh?” she mused, her voice calm but with an edge of something Felix couldn’t quite place. “That’s quite the leap for someone you don’t even know.”

Felix’s cheeks burned, but he chuckled nervously, shrugging. “Hey, it’s worth a shot, right? I mean, you never know unless you try.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer before letting out a soft laugh. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.”

Felix’s heart soared, convinced he was winning her over. “So, does that mean…?”

Before he could finish his question, Seungmin appeared at her side, handing her a coffee. “Your coffee, boss,” he said casually, with a knowing smirk.

Felix’s face dropped in confusion, the words hanging in his throat. Boss? He blinked, staring at Seungmin, then back at her.

She gave Seungmin a nod, then turned to Felix, her smile fading into a more serious expression. “Nice try, Mr. Lee,” she said smoothly, “but I don’t mix business with pleasure. Especially not with employees.”

Felix’s stomach dropped. Boss?

...

Felix waited, anxiety curling tight in his gut as he sat in the waiting area. Every second felt like an eternity, his foot tapping nervously against the tiled floor. Employees passed by, their footsteps quick and hushed, almost as if they were afraid of being noticed. There were no friendly smiles or casual conversations—just tense, whispered exchanges. Felix couldn’t help but overhear snippets of conversations, each one making his stomach churn with unease.

“…she’s impossible to please…” “…don’t mess up around her, or you’re done…” “…seriously, who even smiles around here?”

His heart pounded as the rumors about the CEO grew darker with each passing minute. People spoke of her like she was some kind of mythical creature—an untouchable, no-nonsense figure who ruled the company with an iron fist. She didn’t just run the company; she commanded it. Apparently, she had fired people on the spot for the smallest mistakes, and there were stories about how she once made an entire department redo a project just because the font wasn’t up to her standards.

Felix swallowed hard, his palms already starting to sweat. Great. Just great. He hadn’t expected this. Sure, he’d thought maybe she’d be intimidating—what CEO wasn’t? But this sounded like she ate people like him for breakfast and didn’t blink an eye afterward.

He wiped his hands on his pants, trying to stop them from trembling. This was supposed to be a simple job interview, not a face-off with some corporate dragon.

Seungmin’s voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Felix?”

Felix’s head jerked up, meeting Seungmin’s amused gaze. “Yeah?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the nervousness he was trying to hide.

Seungmin’s smirk was infuriatingly calm. “The CEO will see you now.”

Felix’s stomach did a full somersault, the anxiety pooling into something closer to dread. “You sure I’m ready for this?” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but at this point, all the rumors had his confidence teetering on the edge of a cliff.

Seungmin’s sly smile widened, like he knew something Felix didn’t—like this was all part of some big, cosmic joke that Felix was the punchline to. “As ready as you’ll ever be,” he said, his tone dripping with something unsettlingly playful.

With a deep, shaky breath, Felix stood, his legs feeling like they might give out at any moment. The walk to the office door felt like a march toward doom, and when Seungmin opened the door for him, Felix was hit with a wave of cold, sterile air.

The office itself was as intimidating as the woman who sat at the desk. It was pristine—almost unnaturally so. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, giving a sweeping view of the city, but the grandeur of the view did nothing to calm the nerves gnawing at his insides. Everything about the space screamed power and control. The polished desk was large, and every item on it seemed meticulously placed, as if the slightest misalignment would be unacceptable.

And there she was—the woman from the lobby. The one he had been so smitten by just minutes ago. The one he had asked for her number. Now, sitting behind a desk with an air of authority that made his knees weak for an entirely different reason.

She didn’t look up right away. Her eyes were focused on the papers in front of her, flipping through them with a precision that felt almost clinical. But then, as if sensing his presence, she finally looked up, her gaze locking onto him. Those same eyes that had caught his attention earlier were now cold, assessing. Gone was the soft allure he’d been entranced by—replaced with a sharp, calculating focus that pinned him to the spot.

“Mr. Lee, is it?” Her voice was smooth, but there was no warmth in it.

Felix’s throat tightened. “Uh, yes. That’s me.”

She leaned back in her chair, her movements deliberate and controlled, as if every gesture had a purpose. Her expression was unreadable, though Felix thought he saw a faint glimmer of recognition in her eyes. It was the briefest flicker—perhaps she remembered their awkward little moment in the lobby.

“Hmm,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. “I understand you’re interested in…”

Felix could feel the sweat on his palms again, his mind racing. Her intense gaze was making it impossible to think clearly. “Joining your team,” he managed to blurt out, his voice coming out more shaky than he intended.

Her gaze didn’t waver, and the room seemed to grow colder under her scrutiny. “No, that’s not it. I believe there was something else you mentioned earlier,” she said, her tone holding a subtle edge. She gestured between them, mimicking the awkward movement he had made when talking to her in the lobby. “What was it again? Something about…”

She paused, guesturing the way he did. “Love, was it?”

Felix’s mind went blank for a moment. Love? Oh god, had he really said that? He felt the heat rising to his face, his heart thudding in his chest. This was bad. Really bad. But all he could think about was how absurd this situation was. Just a short while ago, he’d been smitten by her beauty, bold enough to ask for her number. And now—now she was sitting behind this massive desk, her gaze like a hawk’s, making him squirm under her scrutiny.

“L-L-Love,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I think I might’ve said something about that.”

Her lips quirked ever so slightly, but there was no humor in it. “Love,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. “Bold choice of words for someone seeking a job, don’t you think?”

Felix wanted to sink into the floor, his mind scrambling to find a way to recover from this disaster. But all he could manage was a sheepish smile, his voice weak with nerves. “I… I guess I’m not great at first impressions, ma'am”

Her expression didn’t soften, but there was a flicker of something—amusement, perhaps—before she straightened in her chair again, her cold demeanor slipping back into place. “You’re right about one thing, Mr. Lee. You’re definitely not great at first impressions.”

“I understand, ma’am,” Felix said, doing his best to sound respectful.

“Mr. Lee, do you want to be our company's brand ambassador?”

Felix’s heart skipped a beat. Brand ambassador? That was miles beyond what he’d expected—he thought he’d be lucky to land a basic desk job. His mouth opened, but no words came out at first. Eventually, he nodded, still too dazed to formulate any coherent response.

She dismissed him with a curt nod, her attention already shifting back to the papers on her desk, her focus sharp and unwavering. It was clear she expected him to leave. Felix, still trying to process what had just happened, gave a half-stammered “thank you” before turning to go, his footsteps echoing softly in the room.

As he walked out, his heart pounded, a storm of emotions swirling inside him. How had his day spiraled into this chaotic whirlwind? Just this morning, he’d woken up thinking he’d be begging for a job as a junior assistant or something mundane like that. Now, not only had he embarrassed himself in front of the most intimidating woman he’d ever met, but she also turned out to be his boss—and she’d just offered him a position as brand ambassador. What does that even mean?

His mind raced with a jumble of confusion, disbelief, and—against all odds—curiosity. Why, despite her icy demeanor and the overwhelming pressure that came with her presence, did he still feel that strange pull toward her? It wasn’t just her beauty anymore. There was something more—something in the way she carried herself, the way she commanded a room without saying much at all. Felix had always been drawn to confident people, but this? This felt like being drawn toward the sun, knowing it might burn you alive, but still unable to resist the warmth.

As soon as he stepped out of the office, Seungmin was waiting for him in the hallway, arms crossed and a wicked grin plastered on his face. He leaned against the wall casually, but Felix could tell he had been waiting for this moment.

“Well?” Seungmin asked, barely holding back his laughter. “How’d it go? Surprised?”

Felix glared at him, his frustration bubbling over. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”

Seungmin didn’t even try to hide his amusement, his grin widening. “Of course I knew! What, you thought I was going to pass up the opportunity to watch you make a fool out of yourself?”

Felix groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. You set me up! I don’t know if I should thank you or strangle you.”

Seungmin shrugged, his laughter bubbling up now. “Hey, you should be thanking me. I could’ve warned you, but where’s the fun in that? Besides,” he added, leaning in with a smug look, “you got the job, didn’t you? And not just any job—brand ambassador. That’s a pretty sweet gig for someone who just flirted with their boss during a job interview.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. As much as he hated to admit it, Seungmin had a point. “Yeah, I guess I did. But you could’ve given me a heads-up, you know? I walked right into that one.”

Seungmin chuckled, clearly unbothered. “What’s the fun in that? Come on, you’re gonna love working here. She’s tough, but if you impress her, she’s loyal. Plus,” he added with a wink, “you’ve already made quite the impression.”

Felix groaned again, but this time there was less frustration and more amusement in his voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure if it’s a good one.”

Seungmin clapped a hand on Felix’s shoulder, steering him toward the elevator. “Don’t worry. The fact that you survived that first encounter and still got the job is a good sign. She’s not one to offer positions to just anyone, you know. You’ll be fine.”

As they walked toward the elevator, Felix couldn’t help but steal one last glance at the closed door of her office, feeling a strange mix of excitement and dread bubbling up inside him. He wasn’t sure what was more terrifying—the fact that he now had to work under one of the strictest bosses he’d ever heard of, or the fact that he was genuinely looking forward to it.

He let out a long breath, shaking his head as the elevator doors closed behind them. “This is going to be one hell of a ride, isn’t it?”

Seungmin smirked, hitting the button for the ground floor. “Oh, definitely. But hey, at least you’ll have front-row seats to the fireworks.”

Felix laughed, the tension finally beginning to melt away. “Yeah, front-row seats to my own personal disaster.”

As the elevator descended, Felix couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to her—her eyes, her no-nonsense demeanor, the way she seemed to effortlessly command respect from everyone around her. He had a feeling this job was going to be a lot more complicated than he’d initially thought.

But despite everything—despite the nerves, the confusion, and the chaos—there was a part of him that couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected twist of fate wasn’t so bad after all.

He glanced at Seungmin, who was still smirking like the cat that ate the canary. “You know what, man? I might just take you up on that ‘strangling’ offer someday.”

Seungmin laughed, unfazed. “Anytime, Felix. Anytime.”

“Seungmin,” Felix finally spoke up, his voice still slightly shaky. “What exactly is a brand ambassador supposed to do here? I mean, I thought I’d be behind the scenes, maybe handling sales or marketing, but this feels… different.”

Seungmin smirked, clearly enjoying Felix’s confusion. “Ah, you still don’t get it, huh? I was wondering when you’d ask.”

Felix frowned. “What do you mean?”

Seungmin leaned against the elevator wall, crossing his arms. “Well, when I say ‘brand ambassador,’ I don’t just mean a guy who’s walking around with flyers or doing customer service. No, no, this is way bigger. You’re not going to be just some face in the background—you’re going to be working with the face of the company.”

Felix blinked, feeling a growing sense of unease. “With the face of the company?”

Seungmin nodded, his grin widening. “Exactly. You know how most companies have models, right? People who represent the brand, the image, and everything the company stands for? Well, here, our CEO is the brand’s face. She’s the one people see in commercials, ads, everything. She doesn’t hire some random model. She is the model.”

Felix’s eyes widened as the pieces started to fall into place. “Wait… so she’s not just the CEO, she’s also—”

“—the literal face of the company,” Seungmin finished, nodding, and Felix understood, obviously, a pretty face like that wouldn't go unnoticed. “She’s the one the public associates with the brand. She’s the one in all the campaigns, the one people see and think, ‘That’s our product.’ And you, my friend, will be working alongside her, not in the shadows, but right there, front and center.”

Felix felt a fresh wave of panic. “So, you’re saying I’m not just working for her, I’ll be working with her? Like, as her partner in this?”

Seungmin shook his head. “ You’ll be modeling with her, attending events, doing photo shoots, being part of the same campaigns, but you wrok under her, man, don't forget that. She’s tough, Felix, but she doesn’t choose just anyone to stand beside her. You’ll have to earn it, but the fact that she offered you the job means she sees something in you. Maybe it was that boldness when you asked for her number, or she thinks you look good, which is, infact, very rare.” He snickered.

Felix groaned, rubbing his temples. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Seungmin shrugged, chuckling softly. “Hey, if I were in your shoes, I’d be freaking out too. But look, this is a huge opportunity. You’ll learn the ropes, and if you can impress her—which isn’t easy—you’re set. It’s not every day someone gets to model alongside their boss.”

Felix’s nerves were on high alert now. Modeling? He wasn’t sure if he’d signed up for that. But at the same time, the idea of working closely with her, being in the spotlight… it was thrilling. Terrifying, but thrilling.

“So, I’m going to be in photoshoots and campaigns, standing next to her?” Felix asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Seungmin gave him a knowing look. “Yup. You’ll be representing the brand together. And trust me, people are going to be watching your every move.”

Felix’s heart pounded in his chest. He wasn’t sure if this was a dream come true or a nightmare in the making. Either way, he was about to find out.

OF INK AND CHARCOAL.

Artist! Hyunjin x Writer! Reader

Theme: sad, drifting away from each other, hope towards end

You sat by the window, your laptop open, fingers tapping idly against the keyboard. Outside, the sky was bleeding into sunset—the colors fierce and bold, blending like they couldn't decide whether to end the day or prolong the inevitable.

It made you think of the words in Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar:

"I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, 'This is what it is to be happy.' But happiness, too, can feel like suffocation."

You often found yourself writing through that lens. Capturing moments that stood still, forever on the brink of something profound. But today, your mind was blank, heart weighed down by an inexplicable heaviness. It was like you had too many words, too many emotions, and no way to release them.

“I don’t want a box of fancy chocolates, I want you, sitting next to me”

The words were those that you said, yesterday was your 4th year anniversary, and he wasn’t home.

Or rather a house, because it refused to be your home, not anymore.

He thought you were overthinking, He said many anniversaries like this would come, that you both could spend them in amazing ways when things weren’t so busy. But that’s when it hit you—he actually believed you’d be together for a long time. That there were countless tomorrows waiting for the two of you.

He didn’t understand.

It wasn’t about the day. It was about him. About how he was drifting further away from you with every passing second, and he didn’t even realize it. People change; so did he.

He used to be your best friend, your confidant, the one who understood every silence, every glance. He could finish your thoughts before you even had to speak them. Now, the silence between you is heavy, tense, and unbearable. You’ve started to feel like strangers who share the same space but live in entirely different worlds. You’re still here, still trying, but him? He’s somewhere else.

You feel like strangers, when you meet a stranger, you smile, not out of undying love, out of compulsion.

He thinks it’s about the missed anniversary. But it’s not. It’s about all the moments that have passed with him not truly seeing you. You’re right there in front of him, but it’s like he’s looking past you, through you, at something else—something you can’t reach.

The problem is, he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t see how his distance is tearing you apart. How your conversations have become shallow, how the meaningful exchanges you used to have are now just brief, distracted words before he retreats into his world. You wonder if he even remembers what it used to be like, back when the two of you would sit in silence, and it would still feel full, still feel like everything was right in the world.

Now, the silence feels empty, a void between you that grows wider each day.

He spends more time with his art, disappearing into it. And maybe, that’s where he’s been hiding all along. You think of how he once told you that art was about capturing a moment, freezing it in time so it could live forever. But you don’t want to live in frozen moments. You want him here, now, fully present. You want him to realize that the distance between you isn’t something that can be brushed aside with promises of a future. It’s something that needs to be addressed now.

He’s always that you tend to dwell too much on feelings, on little things that don’t matter. But this isn’t little. This is everything.

You miss the way he used to look at you, the way his presence alone could make you feel whole. Now, even when he’s there, it’s like he’s somewhere else. You see it in the way his eyes glaze over when you talk, how his focus always seems to drift. You’ve started to wonder if he even cares anymore, if he even realizes that his absence—though physical—has become emotional too.

The truth is, you don’t care about fancy chocolates or grand gestures. You never did. You just want him. You want the man who used to make you feel like the only person in the room, the man who used to understand you without needing to ask. You don’t need extravagant gifts. You need his time, his attention, his love—the way it used to be.

But he doesn’t see that. He thinks there’s always time. That you can make it up later. But what he doesn’t realize is that every day he pulls away, a little more of you pulls back too. The cracks in your relationship are growing, and the longer they’re ignored, the harder they’ll be to repair. He thinks you’re just upset because of the anniversary. But this has been building for months, maybe even longer. And now, it feels like you’re both on the verge of breaking.

You wish you could find the right words to make him understand, to make him see what’s happening between you. But every time you try, you stop yourself. Because deep down, you know that he’s not ready to hear it. Or worse, he doesn’t want to.

People change. You’ve changed too, but you’ve grown in ways that are trying to hold onto him, while he’s slipping away into someone you barely recognize. And the hardest part is knowing that he thinks everything is fine. That you have time. That you’ll figure it out later.

But you don’t want to live in the future. You want the present. You want him next to you, really next to you, not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, in every way that matters.

Because you’re tired of waiting. You’re tired of hoping that things will get better on their own, that the distance between you will magically close. You know now that it won’t—not unless something changes. Not unless he changes.

Hyunjin must have noticed the stillness, as he quietly approached.

He stood behind you, his fingers brushing against your shoulder, warm and grounding. you tilted your head back to meet his gaze, but his eyes were somewhere else—far off in a world you couldn't reach.

"Writer's block?" he asked softly, his voice like the brush of a fine-tipped pen over canvas.

You shrugged, looking out at the twilight, thinking of how words could so easily fail when you needed them most.

It wasn't that, and the fact that he failed to recognise that was proof, that he indeed is drifting.

"Something like that."

He knelt beside you, his head resting against your knee.

Hyunjin had never needed words in the way you did. His language came in strokes, colors, textures—the way paint blended into something more than itself, how the space between two figures could tell a thousand stories without saying a word.

He pulled out a sketchbook, his charcoal pencil already dancing over the page. He didn’t need to speak; his art was the dialogue. The curves and edges of the lines formed into abstract shapes, slowly coming into focus.

You watched as he sketched two figures—"us" he said. But something was different.

"You’ve drawn us before," you said, your voice softer now. "Why does this feel different?"

Hyunjin paused, looking at the sketch. "It’s not about us. It’s about the distance between us."

you stared at the unfinished drawing, your breath catching in your throat. "Distance?"

His hand traced the space between the two figures he’d drawn. "We’re close, but not touching. Like we’re in different worlds... I don’t know how to explain it with words, but sometimes, I feel like we’re speaking different languages."

So he did feel it.

It made you think of Picasso, how his blue period captured his own internal isolation—despair hidden in soft hues, sadness under every stroke.

Hyunjin smiled, though his eyes remained serious. "I think silence is a language all on its own. Just like your pauses when you write, they say just as much as the words."

The silence stretched between you both then, a moment so textured with meaning that words would have felt intrusive. You turned away from the window and faced him, the intensity of his gaze making you feel as though you were a character in one of his pieces—forever captured on canvas, never truly understood.

"Do you ever feel like we’re stuck in our own worlds?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper. "You, with your art. Me, with my writing. Sometimes I wonder if we’re talking past each other."

He frowned, his fingers pausing over the sketchbook. "Sometimes, yes. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think we’re just... translating differently."

You suddenly remembered a quote from

Murakami's Norwegian Wood:

"What happens when people open their hearts?" I asked. "They get better," she said.

You wanted to believe that. That even in the silence between you both, even in the spaces, that you were opening your hearts in the only ways you knew how.

"I write because I want to make sense of things," You said quietly. "But you—" You hesitated, unsure if you were getting it right. "You create to express what can’t be made sense of, don’t you?"

He smiled, his eyes softening. "Exactly."

For Hyunjin, art was never about answers. It was about capturing moments that words could never fully express. He often spoke of how Van Gogh’s Starry Night wasn’t about the sky or the stars—it was about feeling the vastness of everything and knowing you were a part of it, yet so far away from touching it all.

He slid the sketchbook toward you, and you stared at the drawing again. The figures—"us"—still remained apart. But this time, you noticed something you hadn’t before. The way his hand had darkened the space between 'us', as if to suggest that the distance wasn’t empty, but full of unsaid things.

"This is how I feel when you’re lost in your stories," Hyunjin said. "Like you’re right next to me, but your mind is miles away. I don’t know if you’re with me or somewhere else."

you ran my fingers over the page, over the shadowed space. "Maybe that’s just how we’re meant to be. Maybe that space is what gives us room to grow."

He watched me for a moment, his lips parting as if to say something, but then he paused. Instead, he reached for his paintbrush, dipped it in blue, and ran it over the page. The blue spilled between the figures, a vibrant, living thing, connecting us in a way the lines alone couldn’t.

"It’s not about closing the distance," he murmured. "It’s about filling it with something meaningful."

You sat with that for a moment, letting it sink in. How you had both been trying to make sense of the space between yourselves in your own ways—you with your words, him with his art. But maybe Hyunjin was right. Maybe the space wasn’t something to fear or fill, but to cherish. A space where your worlds could coexist without fully merging.

"Virginia Woolf once wrote," You began, " ‘I am rooted, but I flow.’ I think that’s us. We’re both rooted in who we are—me as a writer, you as an artist—but we flow through each other’s worlds. We don’t need to be the same to be together."

He reached across the table then, his fingers brushing yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence between you both wasn’t heavy. It was light. Full.

Hyunjin smiled, his eyes softening as he closed the sketchbook. "We don’t need words or paintings for everything. Sometimes, just being here is enough."