I'm Sorry For The Early Post. An Anonymous Told Me That It Was A Scam(thank You So Much For Telling

I'm sorry for the early post. An anonymous told me that it was a scam(thank you so much for telling <3)

This is so cute and heartwarming 🥹🫠🫠

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

OHHH IT DIDN'T END JUST LIKE THAT😭😭😭 but issokay

Gold digger (Han's vers. Part 2)

A/n: 😬

Masterlist part 1

within the forest | chapter 11

pairing: fairy!Chan x princess!reader x prince!Seungmin word count: 2.1k words summary: It's about time the king confronts you about the fairies a/n: I apologize for this bad chapter T-T

main masterlist | series masterlist | next

The crackling of the fire camp under the chimney had become her company as she clenched the pink dress Chan gave her yesterday. She rested her elbow on her knee, bouncing as long as she could count, face buried into the soft material. Yesterday’s accident caused a memory to surface back. She can’t shut her eyelid without deciphering it.

What happened? She couldn’t grasp any vivid memory of it. She was young, maybe recalling was useless. How hard she wrecked her brain, all she could remember was the bright orange and red flame engulfing her, her throat was in pain and a thick layer of mist clouded her vision.

“Y/N, why are you up this late?” The sweet voice of her mother snapped her head toward it. Y/N’s gaze followed the woman’s silhouette until it settled on the chair across hers. 

“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I’m overthinking my future. You know overthinking is envious of my good sleep sometimes.” 

She offered her mother a tender smile before taking her hand into hers. Rubbing her thumb over the wrinkly skin of her mother, she pecked it. This hand takes care of her, bled before and maybe had soaked in her tears while she was a careless little girl. 

She was ashamed as she was too late to realise her selfishness. It was a selfish act to forget the one who gave you freedom and happiness. The queen’s hand touched the princess’s cheek and caressed it softly.

“I’m here if you have any problem. I’m here if you want to rant about anything… including Chan.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You knew?”

“Ever since you were 8. I met him a few days ago and I’m glad he’s the one you met. Do know I welcomed him as your friend” She smiled and relief washed over her, easing her mind from the possibility of her mother loathing him too.

“I’m always by your side, sweetie. No matter how devastated or ecstatic it is. Now…” She rose to her feet, approaching the princess. She kissed on top of her head, her lips lingered on her temple before pulling away. 

“Go to sleep. I promise you, whatever is in your mind, won’t be a big matter as you wake up tomorrow.”

“Wait, mom…” She immediately stood up and pressed her lips tightly. It had been a long time since the word left her and a lump formed in her throat, causing difficulty for her to utter it. 

“Can I hug you?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course, you can, dear” She rushed into her mother’s arms and buried her face into the crook of her neck. Her scent acted as a blanket, engulfing the princess in warmth and comfort – something she didn’t realise until now. It brought ease to her troubled mind, in her arms she could breathe again.

“Thank you, Mom.”

[1 week later]

To see everything set up for her wedding was something out of her childhood dream and she was speechless. The day she wouldn’t think come, she would face it sooner than expected.

“Why did they push the date forward?” Seungmin asked as they walked around the store, picking flowers to decorate the castle’s entrance. 

“They see progress in our relationship. They act fast when opportunity strikes.” She pointed to the flower in front of them and the worker quickly jotted it in her book. She turned to Seungmin, taking his hands into hers and exited the shop. The last week went by in a blink, the preparation for the wedding kept them busy until they didn’t realise how much time had passed. It was refreshing to step outside again.

“Don’t you think they’re in such a rush?”

Her steps halted beside a post lamp, gaze stuck on the wanted poster. Her blood ran cold as she saw the sketch of the man. Seungmin followed her gaze, leaning down beside her ear.

“Isn’t that Chan?” he whispered.

Wanted…It only meant that Chan was in a death or alive situation. How long has it been here? But given he’s a fairy, there’s no way a human could kill him.

Right?

“I shouldn’t be standing here doing nothing to prevent this.” She was going to flee from the town but Seungmin swiftly grabbed her arm and tugged it, causing her to land on Seungmin’s chest.

“Don’t. Doing this will put Chan, Taehyu, Beomgyu and even you at a much bigger risk! Your dad is searching for him, think about the consequence of your imprudent action, Y/N. Believe me. If you help him or something, that will make your dad more furious than he is.”

The king wouldn’t put up a wanted poster if someone weren’t a threat to the kingdom.

Heavy footsteps came into a pause behind them. A light tap on her shoulder caused Y/N to force a smile onto her countenance as she spun around, meeting face-to-face with her carriage driver.

“The king wants to meet you in an instant.” He opened the door, palm unfolded as if inviting her to climb into the vehicle.

“See you later.” She glanced at Seungmin before entering – Speaking of the devil. 

Once the horse stopped, she instantly hopped off the carriage and headed to the king’s office. His right-hand man opened the door, and his announcement of the princess's arrival echoed through the room. Her father’s back was facing her when she entered. His hands rested on her hips as he watched the outside view with a smile.

“Why do you want to meet me, Dad?”

He turned around, approached her and pulled her in a hug. Her body turned tense under his arm. Something was odd, he rarely does this. The king loosened his grip, giving an indecipherable smile before letting go of her figure.  

“Do I need a reason to see my daughter? Anyway, how is Seungmin? Is everything fine?”

“We’re still awkward but I’m sure that won’t last long.”

“I’m relieved to hear that and glad I pushed the date. So, you don’t care about the fairies mhm?”

Infuriating crawled inside her, and her fist slowly balled up. She averted her gaze down to the floor, shutting her eyes to compose herself. Showing him that she cares about them will put them in danger. 

Held it back, Y/N

“The fairies? Why do you ask about them? They shouldn’t be in our conversation.”

“Oh! I think they should. I don’t want them to destroy your future, Y/N”

“How are they capable of that?” 

The king walked to his desk, collected some scattered paper and handed them to her. 

Aged pictures of corpses. It was Duncan’s work, she knew only because of Beomgyu's visit. If Beomgyu didn’t come that night, her trust in Chan would crumble even more. It was hard to remain calm given the tension slowly building inside the room.

“They’ll kill you if you’re too close to them, darling. I can’t let that happen to my sweet daughter.”

She quickly brushed off his previous reason as an excuse when she saw his sinister grin. It was clear that he was persuading her to abandon the fairies.

“Then, don’t do anything. Don’t kill them”

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” He gripped her shoulder, tight enough to notice his anger began taking control of him. She darted her eyes to his face, his eyes were shaking – They screamed fear. He was afraid of the idea his plan would come to a pathetic ending.

“Understand what? What’s the difference between you and them if you kill them? Nothing! Both sides are monsters.” 

She escaped his grip and left the room, passing past a silhouette whose hands were hanging after the attempt to call the princess was vain. The figure stayed where it was, hearing the king’s scream in frustration. 

“I want his heart on my desk tonight! No matter what the circumstance is!”

Her hand clenched her dress, running away from the place before the king noticed her appearance there.

“Beomgyu, you need to help me,” She said to the tiny fairy sleeping on her table. Beomgyu woke up, rubbing his eyes softly before tilting his head. She slid a sealed letter to him.

“Give it to him. It’s important” 

He nodded and stood up, balancing the big envelope behind him before flying off, leaving scattered shining dust on the wooden surface.

That night, she was at Chan’s cottage. What her father said didn’t sit right with her, causing the worry to overflow. Hugging her knee closer to her chest, she shivered in the night breeze. It was chilly tonight, and wearing thin clothes doesn’t provide warmth. She rested her chin on her forearm, watching the tiny creatures dancing on the water's surface. The creature seemed to be created by flames.

They move elegantly with their partner, and the water vibrates under their feet. The creatures beamed her a smile every time their gaze met and continued waltzing, drawing gorgeous paintings on the untouchable surface for humans. The drawing accompanies the stars' reflection.

A blanket suddenly draped around her. “Are you planning to get a fever tomorrow?”

Chan sat beside her. She chuckled while shaking her head.

“If I did, I’m running to you first so you can take care of me.”

“Then? I get sick too?”

“Yes! It would be unfair if I’m the only one who gets sick.”

He glanced at her with the are-you-for-real-now look to which he received a giggle. His hand reached for the end of the blanket, pulling it to cover her body.

How long will this stay? 

“The creatures are beautiful, chan.”

“And stunning.”

“Just like you”

She turned her head toward him, smiling tenderly. A silence lived up to the surroundings as they stared into each other’s eyes. Red tints slowly climbed into Chan’s cheeks as his eyes roamed elsewhere as long as it was not her face.

“I like how your eyes reflect the stars above.”

“I like how your hug feels like a warm hot chocolate after a full day from work.”

“I like your wings. Your so-called hideous black wings. Whenever you bring me up to the sky, a new world unfolds. A world that I’ll never experience if I don’t meet you”

“Even if there are a thousand people who want to be my home, I will always choose you”

“It never changes, I promise you”

His cheeks and ears burned from all of the compliments. Hearing tons of compliments from people was normal, he got it all the time when his friends were still alive. None of it made him flustered like this. Was it because of how long their friendship lasted? That hearing was enough to engulf him in a warm feeling.

He observed the creatures, unsure of a reply.

“Thank you, little flora. You were the best gift the universe had given to me”  

The simpler the better

“The same goes for you”  She laid on his lap, pinching his rosy cheeks. His eyes widened, and she ignored it.

"Are you okay, Chan?"

He nodded, removing stray hairs that were blocking her view.

"Why do you ask?"

"Beomgyu told me that the army attacked you several times. Every time he says that I want to check up on you but Beomgyu asked me to focus on my wedding."

"He's right but you don't need to worry too much. I'll be fine because Taehyun and Beomgyu will be there to protect me. Your wedding is much more important now. While we're at it, I'm excited to attend your wedding!"

"You will be gorgeous in a wedding dress, little flora. I can do a little touch-up. A small fairy touch will make everyone speechless with your beauty!!"

His eyes glimmered in excitement 

"Promise you'll be there?"

"Of course!"

He intertwined his pinkie with hers.

“What time is it now?”

“It’s…midnight”

“Happy birthday, my dear fairy godfather” Her eyelids closed as her head felt lighter on his lap. Chan’s gaze turned soft and he ran his slender fingers through her brown locks.

“You remembered my birthday…”

He lifted her and appeared in her room. Flying to the palace could wake her up, he doesn’t want to risk the possibility. He placed her on the bed, their intertwined pinkies didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Thank you for making me alive again, little flora”

Will this be the last time?

He doesn’t know what the future holds for them.

Was it possible to be scared of tomorrow?

Duncan’s on their side, eliminating him is easy now.

He might get killed tonight, tomorrow or in his sleep.

He never knows

We never know.

within the forest | chapter 7

pairing: fairy!Chan x princess!reader word count: 2.1k words summary: expect the unexpected they said(edit because I realized I write the same summery ;-;) warning: mentioned of blood

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He jumped, preparing to push himself against gravity for the first time in a while. He was up in the air with a heavy downstroke, and the beautiful scenery of Stellious met his gaze. He exhaled a deep breath as a cold breeze washed over him. The air felt much lighter up here, and his body eased - he liked the feeling embracing him now.

He flew forward, eyes darting from tree to tree, searching for her figure. He sensed her arrival a moment ago. After some minutes, he caught her at the riverside, playing with a small creature. He landed on the ground with a gust of blowing winds. The princess had folded her eyes as some fallen leaves blew into her.

“That was sure a strong landing, Chan. You blow my hair away.” She chuckled, placing the bunny on the grass and fixing her hair. Chan sat beside her, taking the bunny into his lap. His hand ran through bunny fur as it snuggled further into the male’s leg. She tilted her head to see the animal clearly before cooing at how cute it was.

“At least it’s not a wig. I will laugh if it is one.”

“Funny, Chan.” She filled a palm with water and threw it to Chan. Chan giggled while avoiding the attack.

“Anyway…is everything fine yesterday?”

He hummed nonchalantly while nodding. “Just a small incident. A hunter misfires his arrow. I guess he isn’t used to the bow yet. I’m sorry, I was overreacting yesterday.” He gently placed the sleeping bunny beside them and glanced at her with an apologetic smile.

After hearing her father's conversation last night, she took Chan’s reply as an excuse. When she had put her trust in Chan, it began crushing down slowly. Why did he lie? Was he trying to make her not worry about him? 

Persuading him to tell the truth now, wasn’t a great decision. He seemed happy today and she doesn’t want to see that angelic smile fade. She held herself back from spitting that question. She draped an arm on his shoulder and quickly pushed Chan’s body. He fell into the river with a huge splash, causing the creature to be slightly jolted in its sleep.

A hysterical laugh rang throughout the forest. Chan’s head perked up from the water, eyes narrowing toward her as he reached for her hand. Since she was into laughing, she was oblivious to his actions. In a swift motion, she was under the water.

“Got you!” Chan held her waist and raised her to the surface.

“Look who’s laughing now” He spoke.

“I can swim, Channie. You can let go of me.”

And he did. Y/N backed away and splashed some water toward him. It caught him off guard so he did the same. Each splash became wilder and harsher as time passed - as well as their laughter and joyous screams. The very moment felt like reliving their childhood. An evening where you laugh as if there weren’t tomorrow.

The bunny has got friends to observe their child's behaviour on the water edge. The blonde-haired fairy observed them with arms crossed on his chest, the latter in amusement until his sugar cube melted on his palm. They had their tiny legs soaked in the flowing meek water.

“They seem so happy together. She fills the gap in Chan’s heart, possibly healing his past too.” Beomgyu mumbled as he washed the sugar off and summoned a new sugar cube in his hand.  

Taehyun’s gaze softened at the realisation. He whispered, “Is that so Chan?”

Beomgyu nodded vigorously and Taehyun gazed at him, a gasp leaving his mouth. He dipped his hand into the water and wiped his wet hand over Beomgyu’s lips and cheeks which were sugar-coated.

“You’re much older than me yet you eat like a child. Unbelievable, Gyu.”

“Hopefully Aunty Rosie's shop isn’t closed yet.” She dragged him over the street, through the crowd. The town was busy today. Horses with carriages bustling on the road, folks chatting, it was noisy basically. Twice as he last visited. 

After the sudden chaos at the riverside, Y/N pleaded with him to try her childhood food. He used the magic Taehyun taught a few years back to hide his wings, and he prayed it would last until the end of their journey.

Sometimes, he’d to fasten his pace to keep the same pace as her. It reminds him of his excited younger siblings. A moment later, they arrived at the shop. 

“Aunty Rosie!” 

The 60-ish woman snapped her head from the counter to them. A tender smile rested on her wrinkly face as she placed the tray inside the glass. Her arm spread widely and engulfed Y/N in a warm hug as a mother would.

“Aunty, this is Chan. My best friend!” 

“Nice to meet you, Aunty”  Chan extended his hand but Rosie cupped his cheeks instead. Chan unconsciously took a step back, surprised by Rosie's friendliness. 

“What a handsome man you are. I’m sure you would be a great husband to her.” 

He could feel his face heated up. Chan let out a giggle and his dominant reached for the back of his neck, rubbing it – out of habit – after Rosie released his cheeks. He thanked Rosie for the unexpected compliment.

“Aunty! Don’t say something nonsense!”

“A husband should know his future wife personally. How could the king set you up with a stranger? I’m against it!” Aunty Rosie scrunched her nose to prove her point more.

“Let’s go to the kitchen. I knew you would come today, so I prepared your favourite!”

Y/N followed Rosie to the back, leaving Chan wandering around the shop. He stopped at the wall full of pictures and a photograph gained his attention – A woman with a young girl sitting on her lap. The girl’s face was covered with flour and baking equipment was scattered on the floor. A broad smile was tugged on their faces. He was sure the culprit was the little girl. 

“That girl is Y/N, Chan,”

He turned to his side and saw Rosie looking at the same picture. 

“She was clumsy back then, yet it’s one of her personalities that entertained me”

“Were you there when she was growing up?”

“Of course. I’m one of her maids. Aside from my daughter, she’s the brightest and most curious little girl I have met.”

“Aunty, do you have an extra container? I want to give it to Chan too.” She shouted from the kitchen. Rosie gave him a last glimpse and patted his shoulder.

“You need to take care of her properly if you want to stay with her for a long time.” She gave a tender smile before rushing back to the kitchen. 

“Stay with her? Would I be able to do that?” He whispered while peering outside the big glass. His shoulder tensed when the Stellious army roaming the town came into his view. He’d his back toward the glass before searching for Y/N. He can’t let his guard down, by now, they already recognise him – maybe.

“Chan, let’s go back” 

“Let’s go” Chan intertwined her hand and exited the shop. His grip turned tighter, pulling her closer to his side. He led their way out. Stepping a foot outside the shop suddenly became terrifying, as if there were thousands of guns aiming at him. She noticed the change but kept quiet. 

A strong blow of wind passed him and tore his pale cheeks apart, drawing blood. Her eyes widened and turned around, coming eye to eye with one of the armies. His gaze traced the arrow that landed upon him. Wasting no time, he undid the spell and grabbed her waist.

“Hold on tight, little flora!” 

They were off the ground in a second. The surrounding erupts into chaos, citizens running for shelter as the army continuously tries to shoot them since every attempt is vain. 

She hugged him securely, eyes staying closed. Hearing the screams from beneath them made her imagine what had happened. Chan pushed himself against the air’s current, wings descending rapidly to her palace. Unfortunately, an arrow pierced his right leg. His leg ached, nonetheless, he flew faster. Getting hurt was the least of his concerns, as long as she was safe, he would too.

He crashed into her bedroom through the window, landing on his arm as a painful groan ran throughout the room. That was his last energy, luckily, they made it in just in time. Y/N got out of his grip and guided him to lean against her bed

“Slowly, Chan. We’re safe.”

“You are, I’m glad.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head.

“Both of us are safe, Chan.” She said sternly. She carefully took his injured leg in her lap. An arrow had embedded into his skin and under it, his pants had turned into a brighter shade of black from the overflowing scarlet-like liquid.

“Can I?” 

“Slowly, please”

Taking the arrow in her hand, she pulled the arrow from his leg, carefully. His forehead creased and he bit his bottom lips, containing his scream within him. 

“There…it’s out.”

 She threw the arrow from her window and helped him stand up. His legs felt numb when he tried to emerge. Blood dripped on the floor while he went to the chair. 

“Stay still while I stitch them. I don’t want you to bear any more pain, Channie”

 She patted an unused cloth on the open wounds as Chan hissed and stitched them. While doing so, Chan grabbed her forearm. Her action immediately halted and she averted her attention to him. His eyes shifted away when their gaze met, guilt devouring him silently.

“Why are you treating me when I was the one who caused you to be involved in this?” He questioned with a low voice laced with devastation.

“Because that's what a friend does. I’m not going to leave you knowing you’re hurt because of me” She doesn’t dare to say the last word out loud.

“Thank you, little flora” He rose to his feet, limping toward the window. 

“Chan, don’t leave. It’s dangerous!” She grasped Chan’s hand firmly, pleading for him to stay. He rubbed her hand with a thumb, escaping the hold. 

“I’ll be safe, little flora” He smiled softly.

The queen saw the fairy leaving her daughter's bedroom, so she shouted his name. The fairy seemed hesitant about the call.

“I mean no harm, Bang Chan. I just want to have a conversation with you.” She beamed.

“Regarding what?” 

“About Y/N. Could we?”

The fairy begrudgingly landed. The queen handed him a letter and a stem of blue hydrangeas as soon as Chan settled on the grass. 

“I know she is at your place when she isn't here. Although she never mentions it”

“Did she tell you about me?”

“A lot when she was young, not now. Maybe she’s afraid someone will stop her from seeing you. There’s a small gift for you in there. If my time has come, I’ll be relieved as I already sent my gratefulness to you and not worry because you will be there for her.”

He accepted the gift, speechless by the queen’s sudden gift. It was the first time he received a gift for being someone’s friend. He looked at the queen for reassurance and the queen nodded.

“Thank you for the gift, Your Highness. I apologize but I need to go now”

Y/N fiddled with her fingers as she averted her gaze outside of her room. A knock on the door snapped her from agitation that began choking her. 

“Come in!” 

“Princess Flora” A male entered and examined the room before glancing back at her.

“Who are you?”

The brunette male closed the door. Feeling threatened, she reached for a comb, shoving it toward the male. The male cracked a laugh 

“I’m Beomgyu, Taehyun’s little brother!”

“Ohh–” She returned the comb to the vanity, and an awkward laugh escaped. She cleared her throat.

“Why are you here? Pretending to be one of the maids?” Beomgyu hummed and approached the window.

“You seem uneasy about Chan. I’m here to reassure you, he’ll be okay. Duncan is going to protect him from the killer”

The night was dimmed by a heavy rain pouring in Stellious. Chan wrapped himself with a cardigan and sat across the fireplace, hands clenching the queen’s letter. A tear dropped onto the letter when he realised that he might not be able to grant the woman's wish.

Something fell and clattered on the wooden floor. It glinted from the corner of his eyes. He ducked, grabbing the item. It was a necklace with a lily charm. The lily was identical to Y/N’s hairpin. He sniffled and buried his face into his knee.

Since when did looking forward to another day become difficult? 

Why has his future darkened? 

A blurry path was ahead of him.

His mother’s voice echoed in his head and his cry broke even louder.

“Achieving true happiness requires a great sacrifice from someone.”

within the forest | chapter 10

pairing: fairy!Chan x princess!reader x prince!Seungmin word count: 2.6k words summary: A normal birthday celebration with Chan and Seungmin, everything will go well, right..? a/n: atp, I can say that I'm bad at coming up with a summary--

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A soft humming escaped from the princess's lips as she hooked an earring to her left ear, the little fairy sitting on her vacancy became her sole audience for her little show. Beomgyu snatched a nearby tissue and wrote a message to her with his gold dust. He purposely sneezed to gain her attention. It was his typical way Beomgyu started a conversation in his little fairy form. She stepped closer toward him, leaning into the vacancy.

“You seem happy today, your highness. Did good news reach you?”

“Today is my birthday, Beomgyu and I can’t wait to spend it with Seungmin and Chan!” She unfolded her hand in front of Beomgyu and with a little hesitation, he climbed onto her hand. She began spinning around her room as the thought of spending another day with Seungmin and Chan excited her more than she had expected. Beomgyu had held her palm tightly to control himself from vomiting and flew off her hand.

A knock on the door was all it took to save Beomgyu. The fairy flew out her window when she headed for the door. She opened the door and was greeted by Sara holding a tulip. The maid smiled widely as she expanded her arm toward Y/N. 

“Happy birthday, Princess Y/N! I pick up this before I come here.” 

“Thank you, Sara!”

“Let’s get your hair done, should we? I can put this flower on your braid if you desire.”

“That will be lovely.”

Sara chuckled and closed the door after her. The rest of the morning was filled with Sara and Y/N’s laughter as they shared what they would do today. 

His hand ran through the dresses on display, mind running through every possibility of her reaction to the dress. A frustrated sigh left his mouth as he grabbed a handful of his hair. He averted his gaze to Taehyun who was buying fruits outside the shop he was in. He never thought finding a perfect gift for someone would be this difficult. Buying a gift for his friends rarely crossed his mind because all his friends were temporary.

“Come on, Chan! Think of something.” He mumbled to himself. The store owner had his eyes on Chan for some time, emerged from the counter and walked up to Chan. Amidst his busy customers, he saw Chan had the hardest time choosing, alluding to how long he had been standing at the same place and the constant zoning out.

“I see you are having a hard time choosing. Can you tell me what she likes? I can help you, son.”

Chan’s hand retreated from the dress and faced the old man.

 “Oh uhm…she likes flowers and anything to do with nature. She’s like a child when she gets excited over something small. Her brown eyes look so ethereal under the blinding sun, that I would like to stare at them for a long time. She brought a huge change in my life.” A fond smile made its way to Chan’s lips.

“You really love this girl, don’t you?”

Blood pumped onto Chan’s face and he immediately rubbed his right ear when he realised his words sounded like he was in love with Y/N. He vigorously shook his head.

“You took it wrong! She’s like my little sister!”

The old man chuckled and patted Chan’s shoulder in a fatherly manner.

 “Whatever you said, son. She must be lucky to have you.”

Chan’s face turned into a much brighter shade of red at his statement. The old man took one dress from the display and presented it to Chan. It was a soft yellow dress with a pink flower motif all over the dress and a puffed sleeve. It was simple, something that Chan didn’t expect to get recommended by the owner.

“I always say to myself that a sincere gift is more worthy than an expensive gift. Let me pack this up for you, son”

The owner returned to the counter. Sincere – why was he worried about Y/N liking the present or not? 

After paying for the gift, Taehyun and Chan returned to the cottage. Chan twisted the doorknob and immediately sneezed loudly, causing Taehyun to jolt back in surprise.

“Are you okay, Chan?” He asked and Chan just nodded, looking at the ground. The floor was covered with gold dust that belonged to none other than Beomgyu himself. Taehyun placed his things in the kitchen and dragged Chan to the backyard after he had put the dress in his room.

Taehyun could guess the reason behind this gold dust mess in the living room. Upon pushing the door to the backyard, his guess was right. Beomgyu’s back was facing them and some bunnies were hopping beside him with a pink ribbon stuffed between their lips. Birds were putting ribbons and flowers on trees. Beomgyu’s wings flapped rapidly until a small mountain of golden dust formed under his wings.

“I’m sorry Chan. Beomgyu did this when something excited him” Taehyun had his head down when he spoke.

“It’s fine Taehyun. The tree already cleaned up the mess.” He patted Taehyun’s shoulder.

Chan went to Beomgyu and asked him to make some arrangements for the decorations to which Beomgyu nodded and instructed the animal. The bunnies quickly hop toward the birds, handing the decorations to the birds. Taehyun stood far from the event. A tender smile crept up on his countenance as he observed how the animal approached Chan with ease. Soon, he joined them to prepare for this evening’s celebration.

“Good evening, princess and happy birthday! So, where are we heading today?” Seungmin asked and planted a kiss on the back of her palm. She laced her hand with him and dragged Seungmin into her room swiftly. It had become his routine to visit Stellious because of their wedding. 

In the past few days, they had ditched their responsibilities to get to know each other and the kingdom better. The prince had just arrived when she sneaked him inside her bedroom. To say Seungmin was confused was an understatement. The princess childishly glanced at him, causing the young prince to become bewildered once he stepped inside her room. She took the black feather under her pillow and held Seungmin's hand.

“Remember when I said I would bring you to meet Chan one day?”

He nodded with enthusiasm 

“Well, let’s go! Close your eyes”

Seungmin shut his eyes and a meadow came into his vision once he unfolded them. The birds' sweet melody greeted his ear and flew above them as if welcoming their arrival to Chan’s little cottage. She pulled him toward the cottage.

“Promise me you won’t be so surprised when you meet him.”

Seungmin raised his thumb and they entered the house. 

“Little flora, I’m in the backyard!” Chan’s voice erupted. Without her lead, Seungmin busted into the backyard and his eyes widened in amazement, he never thought he would see fairies that only appeared in his fairytale book. The three fairies halted their action as their gaze met the prince’s glimmering and curious gaze. The animals that were with them dashed away, terrified of the newcomers.

“I’m sorry for not telling earlier but this is Prince Kim Seungmin, my future husband.” She grinned sheepishly. 

“It’s alright! Finally, we met in person, Seungmin! Little flora had told me about you a lot.” Chan uttered, smiling at Seungmin. Seungmin replied with a big smile stretched; one that Chan always saw on a kid's face. His glimmering eyes reminded Chan so much of a puppy that his siblings adopted before he left their house.

“I’m delighted to meet you too! I mean the three of you! I thought you guys didn’t exist. Honestly,  you guys look even better than I imagined!”

By this time, Beomgyu had turned into a little fairy to hide his blushing cheeks which didn’t go unnoticed by Taehyun. Beomgyu rested on Taehyun’s shoulder, burying his face into the blonde’s neck. 

“Where did that ashed-hair fairy disappear?! I never read a tale that said they can vanish right in front of your eyes!” 

“I apologise for that, Your Highness. Beomgyu is pretty shy when it comes to compliments. The small fairy on my shoulder is him.” 

Beomgyu flew off from Taehyun’s shoulder. A wave of gold dust appeared and under them was Beomgyu, cheeks reddened. Chan chuckled and gently grabbed Seungmin and Y/N’s hands. He gestured to them to sit on the mat in the middle of the backyard. 

When they settled down, the princess just registered the decoration the animal had put up. Behind them stood two trees, a string of letters tied on its branches, forming a ‘happy birthday’. A tower filled with dessert and snacks was on the mat as well.

“Did you prepare this by yourself?!”

“With the help of them of course!” He pointed to the other fairies who swiftly entered his cottage when all eyes were on them. Taehyun mouthed something to Chan before fully shutting the door.

“Seriously Chan, you don’t need to prepare all of this. Being with you and Seungmin today is enough.”

 “Well, compared to what you had done in my life, this isn’t enough to repay them”

He averted his gaze to the prince and beamed “I hope you enjoy this dessert, Seungmin. Is not much”

“This is more than enough, Chan. Thank you for preparing this!”

The evening went on with Seungmin asking question after question toward Chan. Some questions were odd to ask but Chan answered them honestly nevertheless – it was entertaining he’d say. Their interaction was wholesome to watch. From her point of view, she saw figments of herself and her mother telling tales about the outside world in her bed, a single lit candle witnessed their laughter and smiles.

Out of consciousness, a tear poured down her cheeks. She hastily wiped it off but Seungmin held her hand and glanced at her worriedly.

“Are you okay? Did we make you feel left out or anything?” He asked, panic evident in his voice and she felt the grasp tightened. She rapidly shook her head and cleaned the stain with her free hand. She didn’t know why it had happened either.

“I’m okay, you just remind me of my younger self. Anyway, I’m glad you’re comfortable with him, Seungmin.”

Chan looked up to the sky and immediately grabbed their hand, dragging them to a familiar riverside. Seungmin and Y/N exchanged a confused look when they arrived and Chan simply pointed to the other end of the lake where two mountains stood side by side. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon, and the golden rays mingled with the sky, creating an orange-coloured sky for them to watch.

“It’s gorgeous” she muttered.

He became more infuriated every time he glanced at the dagger on his desk. His assassin promised a beating heart of the fairy in the morning but nothing. Blood coated the dagger and its metallic smell spread throughout the room, causing nausea to anyone who set foot inside. He gritted his teeth as he stood up from the comfort of his chair, palm slamming to the desk.  

He threw the dagger across the room and it clattered against the floor, his face was burning red as he marched toward the door. Relying on someone else wouldn’t fulfil his dying hunger so he better take it upon himself.

He rushed to his horse in the castle front yard and shoved Gale away before climbing up on the horse. He gave the horse a harsh slack and it ran out of the castle, the king clenched the rein in his palm as the horse picked up his speed toward the forest. Once the forest registered in his view, he pulled the rein and the horse followed suit, its feet came to an abrupt stop as it neigh.

The king’s eyes widened at the sight of huge blackthorns growing from the ground, concealing the forest’s entrance. It looked impossible to cut it down with a sword. He dismounted from the horse. His knuckles had become white from the strength of his clenched fist, he could feel his nails digging into the skin of his palm. 

“You’re a tomato, Your Highness” Someone snickered behind him, causing the king to whip his head to the source. Duncan showed him a smile while tilting his head – a smile that was too eerie to call it a normal smile. He approached the thorn and caressed its harsh surface.

“I’m sorry if that was rude, Your Highness but I believe you need my help?”

“I’ll never beg for help from you, Duncan!”

“Even if your precious daughter is at risk of getting killed? That’s just irresponsible. ” He jeered 

His jaw tensened at the statement. “Must I remind you that your people almost killed my daughter?”

“You’re slightly wrong, Your Highness. He was. After he broke the rule, he was simply a betrayer to me” He spun around, resting his gaze on the king’s. 

“I believe we have been in this stage before, Your Highness. Don’t be silly; you asked for my help before. You can’t kill him without me, you know that better than anyone” He smirked

Chan’s shoulder suddenly stiffened after a wind washed over him. His eyes observed his surroundings while he stood up. 

The air felt heavier. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. 

This wasn’t right…

“Chan? Something’s wrong–”

“Y/N look out!” She heard Seungmin shout before her view was completely covered by Seungmin’s chest and a warm sensation flowed from her forehead. His hand clenched around her shoulder as a grunt escaped. 

Her heart stopped beating momentarily when she saw an arrow piercing through Seungmin’s shoulder. Beyond his shoulder, she caught a figure hiding among the trees, preparing to shoot another arrow. Chan cursed under his breath before wrapping his arm around their waist and launching himself into the air.  

Although it began growing dark, she could make out the figure. Oh, how she wished the sky was coal black.

Chan landed on the ground and quickly screamed for Taehyun and Beomgyu. The called fairies exited the house and horror was written on their faces. They helped Seungmin into the house and pulled the arrow out. Seungmin chewed his bottom lips as Beomgyu cleaned up the wound.

“It’s going to be alright, Your Highness” Taehyun comforted as he hovered his hand on Seungmin’s wound. His hand glowed and before Seungmin’s eyes, his skin began attaching itself. A small gasp bubbled out from Seungmin as he ran his fingers over his injured shoulder – there weren’t scars or invisible marks.

Chan’s fist clenched as he headed to the door. Seungmin shouldn’t be injured, it should be him instead, the prince was innocent. She noticed his behaviour, grabbed his wrist, and shot him a begging look.

“Whatever is inside your head, please don’t do it. I don’t want you to be injured after Seungmin“ She pleaded, the edge of her eyes began brimming with tears. Chan released himself from her grasp gently and shook his head

“Stay with Seungmin, promise me. Return to the castle after this, don’t wait for me.”

He gave her a forced smile. His footsteps echoed through her ear and she swore her vision blurred briefly. In her blurry vision, she saw Chan’s gigantic wings facing her while huge orange flames devoured everything around her. She heard him muttered sorry to her before darkness consumed her.

Was that her imagination or a piece of her forgotten memories?