Its Salty In The Middle Of Those Sweet Moments.

୨୧⸝⸝﹕it’s salty in the middle of those sweet moments.

SUMMARY! for reasons unknown to him, you seem to absolutely hate lee anton. on several occasions, he’s tried to hate you right back, but found that it can be difficult to dislike someone when you’re completely infatuated with them.

PAIRING! lee anton x fem!reader

GENRE! college!au, slice of life, swim team!au idk what to call it actually but anton and reader are both captains, fluff, angst (kinda), (one-sided) enemies to lovers WC 6.6k

WARNING! swearing, reader is mean to anton for a while, miscommunication, i have no knowledge of swimming as a sport and had to do a lot of research for this one so sorry if this contains some inaccuracies, not proofread

NOTE! when anon requested this i jumped out of my seat bc rivals to lovers with anton was my very first wip on this acc but i scrapped it and this gave me an excuse to write abt it again

anton thinks the world of you while you think nothing of him. he’s unsure of how someone he thinks of so highly could hate him so much, and he’s even more unsure of how he could still be so enamored by you despite knowing that you feel the exact opposite way about him.

he gave up on trying to understand the root of your hatred towards him long ago.

at first, he assumed that you were just jealous of the fact that the boy’s swim team had a bigger budget than the girl’s. this wasn’t anton’s fault by any means, but he thought that you might’ve been taking your anger out on him due to his position as team captain. the school administration seemed to simply favor the boy’s swim team over yours, and even anton knew that it wasn’t fair. the favoritism meant that anton’s team received better funding, which inevitably meant better… everything.

anton vividly remembers the glare that you’re always giving him only growing in intensity the day he and his team stepped into the pool area wearing their brand new goggles and swim trunks. he recalls the way the other girls on your team looked down at their own worn out swimsuits upon seeing anton’s team’s new attire, and he felt terrible. if it were up to him, he would’ve entered the room wearing the same faded blue swim jammers he and his teammates were forced to wear at the start of the semester if it meant you’d stop looking at him with such disdain in your eyes.

if this had been the reason behind your distaste for the boy, he would’ve understood. but the hatred you held for him extended beyond swimming, too.

“your hair looks stupid like that,” he hears you mutter from behind him. he turns around, an indifferent expression adorning his features to mask his nervousness.

the fact that you still manage to get the boy’s heart racing and his palms sweating despite your cruel words is baffling to him.

anton’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, wanting to retaliate but not having the slightest idea what to say. “my hair looks like this everyday,” is all he can pathetically exhale.

you’re still staring at him with a furrowed brow and he stares back at you, perplexed. he wonders if you have anything else to say to him or if you were insulting his hair for the pure fun of it. he thinks he’d be fine with either, because at least you’re talking to him.

he feels like slapping himself in the forehead at his own lovesickness.

after a few moments of silence, you scoff, signaling with your hand that you want him to move out of your way.

wordlessly, anton obliges, stepping aside and watching as you continue on your way to whatever class you have next. he notices merely seconds afterwards that the hallway he’s currently standing in isn’t narrow in the slightest, meaning you could’ve easily gone around him and still insisted on making him move. he wishes he could dislike you— he really does.

anton turns around to find sohee and seunghan now leaning against the wall, having observed the entire interaction between you and their love-struck friend. sohee looks at him pitifully while seunghan claps, slowly and sarcastically.

“don’t,” is all anton says to them, hanging his head. he knows that they’d like to drill another lesson into his mind about how he needs to stop letting you push him around like that, and he’s not in the mood for it.

“anton, my man,” seunghan sighs, putting an arm around his shoulders. “i get that you like her, i really do, and that she’s pretty and all,” he feels anton’s shoulders momentarily tense at his words, “but i don’t think she’s into you. like, at all.”

anton shrugs the older boy’s arm off, shaking his head. “i don’t like her,” he lies through gritted teeth. sohee and seunghan share an unamused look.

in actuality, the two of them were there to witness anton fall for you firsthand. when their younger friend first saw you and two of your friends walking through the quad area of campus, they watched the way his eyes widened and the way the oxygen left his lungs. they recall thinking that anton’s heart would burst out of his chest and fall right onto the grass below the three of them. his friends were in disbelief that anton was currently standing in front of them and denying his feelings for you when they quite literally saw him develop said feelings in real time.

when anton found out that you were captain of the girl’s swim team, it only solidified the way he felt about you. being captain of the boy’s swim team himself, he thought it was the perfect setup. he was too shy to nonchalantly walk up to you and initiate conversation, but he had the notion that swimming would make good enough of an excuse.

his hopes of becoming acquainted with you through your shared interest in the sport were crushed almost immediately. when he first tried to strike up a conversation with you, you sent him a scowl that intimidated him into walking the other way. on a separate occasion, he attempted to talk to you again, only for you to turn your head and pretend that you hadn’t heard him. he hasn’t tried to initiate anything ever since, the only time the two of you ever interact being whenever you glare at him or make a remark about him in passing.

he never found out what your problem was when it came to him, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

anton sees sohee and seunghan’s solemn faces and scoffs. “i’m serious, guys!” he complains, “you’ve seen the way she acts towards me. why would i like somebody like that? that’s like setting myself up for failure.” his chest tightens as the words leave his mouth. he only said that so his friends would drop the subject, but he knows that there’s truth behind his statement. the two boys only exhale disappointedly.

sohee purses his lips. “if she didn’t absolutely hate you for no reason, you guys would probably look good together,” he comments. seunghan nods, “too bad she’s got a stick up her ass.”

for whatever reason, anton wants to defend you and tell his friend that there is no stick up your ass— you’re only hostile when it comes to him. he realizes how pitiful that sentence would sound to sohee and seunghan and decides against saying it out loud.

“stop being hung up on that girl, anton,” sohee chimes, putting a hand on his friend’s arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. you would know all about that, right? since you’re a swimmer and all.”

seunghan hits sohee in the arm jokingly. “he’s on the swim team, not a fucking merman.”

“he’s so cute, are you kidding me?” you hear rei practically squeal as you step into the locker room. she and jiwon are both already wearing their swimsuits, and the latter looks up upon hearing you enter the room.

“who are we talking about?” you smile, setting down your backpack. it’s late in the afternoon and you’re relieved to be done with your classes for the day, finally able to do what you love most.

“um,” jiwon begins, “no one in particular. right, rei?” your friend sounds a bit on edge as she turns to the girl sitting on the bench beside her, who shrugs. “we’re talking about anton,” she replies, earning a slap on the arm from jiwon. “ow! what the hell?”

jiwon watches as you halt your process of taking off your shirt, about to change into your swimsuit. she knew that your mood would turn sour at the mention of the boy; it’s a known fact amongst the members of your team that you hate lee anton.

“you think anton is cute?” you turn to rei, frowning. the girl lets out a huff of air, her bangs moving in the process. “i don’t see how you don’t,” she mutters, “and i don’t get why you hate his guts either. he’s super nice.”

you continue changing, the two girls looking away from you as you do so out of respect. “you wouldn’t understand,” is all you say in response. jiwon bites her lip, feeling bad for the boy. she’s seen it all— the fleeting, longing glances anton sends your way, and the scornful looks you send him in return. she doesn’t comment on it, not wanting to upset you, but a minuscule, intrusive part of her desperately wants to know what’s going on between you and the captain of the boy’s team.

rei, however, seems to know no boundaries. “would you be mad if i dated him, then?” she chortles, giddily kicking her legs. not facing you, she doesn’t see the way you grow tense at her question. you open your mouth to respond when a knock at the locker room door startles the three of you.

the door opens a fraction and you turn to see yujin pop her head inside. “are you guys almost ready?” she asks, scanning the room before her eyes land on you. “oh, hey, captain,” she smiles, eyes forming crescents. you wave, and the older girl continues. “coach wanted me to remind you guys that we have a joint training session today,” she clenches her teeth for a second, eyes moving to jiwon and rei who are wearing matching nervous expressions at the reminder. “you know, with the boys team,” yujin finishes, not daring to look you in the eye in fear of how you might react.

as captain of the team, you were curious as to why your coach would want to remind you of that, seeing as you were often the first person to obtain this information. upon deeper thought, you realize it was probably because even your coach knew about your hatred towards anton and wanted you to stay focused this time around rather than glaring at him every few minutes. you almost let out a laugh at the thought.

“you hear that, captain?” rei teases, “prepare yourself! don’t let anton distract you this time.”

you throw a towel in her direction, earning a grunt from her. “i should be telling you that,” you scold, “seeing as you’re obsessed with him all of a sudden.”

rei laughs, and you’re unsure of how to feel when you come to the realization that she didn’t disagree with your statement.

once you finally leave the locker room, you come face to face with your sworn enemy himself.

anton doesn’t look in your direction for as long as he normally does, memories of your interaction from earlier in the day flooding his mind. no matter how small of a gesture it is, your teammates take notice of it. “he’s not staring at you today,” gaeul whispers, shocked.

you only shake your head. “like i care,” you spit, crossing your arms, “i prefer it that way, actually. he should focus on his own team.”

wonyoung puts her hands on your shoulders from behind, lightly shaking you. “loosen up, okay?” she advises, her own eyes drifting over to anton’s team. as if on cue, anton looks over at you for a moment, watching as you joke around with your teammate. he wishes that you were even half as nice to him as you are to your team, wondering what it would be like to laugh with you the same way wonyoung is right now.

noticing anton’s preoccupied state, one of his teammates calls out to him. “captain!” anton turns his head away from you, looking his teammate in the eye. “yeah, taesan? you need something?” he inquires, getting back into his leader headspace. taesan looks over anton’s shoulder at your team, making the inference that he had been distracted by you. like always, taesan thinks to himself.

“do some stretches with me, yeah?” he says, wanting anton to fully dedicate himself to practicing instead of letting you pose as an obstacle.

anton is a good team captain— any of his teammates can attest. but it feels like anytime you’re in his presence, he’s only able to give 80% as opposed to his usual hundred, the other 20% being spent completely fixated on you.

he walks over to his dark haired teammate with a nod, agreeing to help him warm up. he thinks it serves as a more productive way to pass time than staring at you like a lovesick idiot.

“i was thinking,” taesan starts, copying the way anton does shoulder stretches to loosen his joints, “well, me and leehan were talking about it, actually. we should do a bonfire later, at the beach,” he tells the older boy.

anton licks his lips, nodding absentmindedly. “just you and leehan?” he asks, looking around the room for the boy in question. he sees leehan standing in the corner looking disinterested and waves him over. with an inaudible sigh, leehan reluctantly joins the two boys who are now doing tricep stretches. taesan shakes his head in response to the question anton had posed, “no, i meant, like, the whole team,” he corrects. “tell him, leehan,” taesan nudges his teammate.

“i hate stretching,” leehan murmurs, gaze aimed towards the white tiles beneath him. “about the bonfire, dumbass,” taesan deadpans. leehan perks up at the mention of something that he actually cares about. “oh, yeah! we’re gonna invite the whole team,” he grins, “it’ll be a blast, anton. you’ve gotta go.”

anton thinks it over, biting the inside of his cheek. “it’s already kind of late though, no?” he points out, causing the two boys on either side of him to groan. “bonfires are literally supposed to happen at night,” taesan comments at the same time leehan says, “don’t be such a buzzkill.”

“is the girls team invited?” anton can’t stop himself from asking, earning more groans from the two boys. “i don’t want to go through the trouble of inviting them,” leehan complains. “yeah,” his friend nods, “plus, he’s only asking because he wants their captain to be there.”

taesan’s comment makes anton come to a halt, and he’s now the only one out of the three of them no longer stretching. “that’s not true,” he defends himself, “i just feel kind of bad. i mean, we already have a bigger budget than them, and stuff.”

“keep telling yourself that, champ,” leehan grumbles. “we see right through you.” anton steps forward, looking at both of them simultaneously. “guys, seriously,” he says lowly, “i feel bad.”

taesan lets out a laugh, “right, you feel bad that you won’t be able to make heart eyes at y/n tonight.”

anton rubs his palm across his face, frustrated. “here’s an offer for you. you either invite the girls team, or…” he pauses, attempting to appear intimidating, “you’re not allowed to have the bonfire at all.”

the two boys scoff in unison. “you can’t just do that,” taesan snorts, “you’re our captain, not our mom.” anton scratches his head at that, disorientated. “look, i— okay,” he tries again, “i don’t know. i’ll buy you guys food, or something.”

it’s now taesan and leehan’s turn freeze in their places. “why didn’t you start with that?”

practice ends faster than you wish it had and you hoist your bag over your shoulder. you turn to jiwon and rei, about to ask if they’re ready to leave when you’re interrupted by two loud voices. “girls! hey!” you turn your head to see two members of the boys swim team— who’s names you never bothered to learn— running up to you and your friends.

“hey,” one of them pants, “don’t leave yet.” you look at your friends once more, studying their expressions that look just as confused as yours. “anton wanted— ouch!” the boy is interrupted by his friend slapping him on the arm harshly, as if he had said something wrong. “all of us, i mean, wanted to know if you girls would like to join us tonight,” the boy finishes, rubbing his arm while sending a subtle glare in his friend’s direction.

“join you.. in doing what, exactly?” you inquire, serious as ever. the two boys seemingly grow smaller under your intimidating gaze as if they hadn’t anticipated your somber attitude. “we’re doing a bonfire,” the other boy replies, pointing his thumb in the direction of the rest of his team. you look over the boy’s shoulder, your eyes landing upon anton, who is already looking at you. upon seeing your eyes scan over him, he looks away.

rei claps her hands together a few times, “we’ll be there! thank you for inviting us.” her words startle you and you open your mouth to protest. you had just been seconds away from telling the boys in front of you that you weren’t interested.

“yeah, count us in!” jiwon chimes, and you want the tiled floor below to swallow you whole. “you guys have fun, then,” you tell them, eyes swimming with boredom, “i’m going home.”

“no!” the boys in front of you shout in unison, startling you and your team. “you have to come. especially,” one of them pleads. “and why is that?” you put one hand on your hip, intimidating them further.

everyone already seems to know the answer to your question before the boys can even formulate the words to say it. “our captain wants you to.”

your teammates all but drag you to the beach against your will, uttering complaints about how you “need to learn how to have fun” and how they’ve “been waiting for something exciting like this to happen”.

within the first 5 minutes of your arrival, you’ve already tried to escape more times than your friends are able to count. wonyoung had to keep a tight grip on your wrist to ensure that you wouldn’t go anywhere, and you swear at the girl in your head for being stronger than she appears.

“i can’t believe anton himself told his friends to invite us just so he could see y/n,” rei mutters, astonished, “do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

“that’s definitely not the reason,” you deny, already wanting to drop the topic, “they probably just thought it would be funny because everybody on the planet knows that i hate him.”

and while taesan and leehan are most definitely aware of your hatred towards their captain, their reasoning for inviting you and your team really was because anton wanted to see you.

“invite the girls team!” leehan mocks, intentionally making his voice sound higher, “i feel sooo bad for them!” anton pays no mind to the way he’s being blatantly teased, his eyes trained on you. “feel bad for them my ass,” taesan comments under his breath, “he’s already making heart eyes at her, just like i said.”

“you’re a real masochist, you know that?” leehan adds, waving a hand in front of anton’s line of sight. the taller boy blinks in response as if he had broken out of whatever trance you had him under. “that girl doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she hates you, and you’re still, like, obsessed with her.”

anton sharply exhales through his nose, not needing another reminder of the fact that you dislike him and that he’s stupid for helplessly pining after you.

“i’ve heard that a million times,” he retorts, “and i’m not obsessed with her. in fact, i’m starting to hate her, too.”

he thinks that lying to his teammates is just as difficult as lying to sohee and seunghan, only receiving humorless looks in response to his statement. “right,” taesan scoffs, “you hate her so much that you forced me and leehan to invite the entire girls swim team just so you could see her.” anton lightly hits him with the back of his hand, muttering, “i told you that’s not the reason.”

all three boys turn to look at you, arms crossed and unamused. “oh, man,” leehan laughs, “she’s bored out of her fucking mind.” anton watches you carefully, your eyes burning a hole in the sand beneath your shoes. “why don’t you go talk to her, captain?” taesan teases, slapping his friend on the back boyishly. anton staggers forward about a centimeter due to the impact, looking back at the boy. “or anyone on the girls team, for that matter. since you made us invite every single one of them,” leehan quips.

but anton thinks that talking to you would only dampen your mood even further, and he doesn’t want the glare that you’re currently directing towards the sand to be aimed at him. “try talking to her, right there,” leehan points to someone in your general direction and anton follows his finger with his gaze, “naoi rei. she’s one of y/n’s closest friends, i think.”

taesan lets out another scoff, “yeah, but she’s not y/n. anton wants y/n, not the next best thing.”

jiwon and rei stand next to the bonfire, and you overhear one of them comment on how it isn’t as big as they were expecting it to be. you see wonyoung and yujin sitting on some large rocks a short distance away from the shore. you quickly scan the perimeter looking for gaeul, who you find sitting on the sand and looking up at the stars. your friends are all enjoying themselves— why aren’t you?

as per usual, you want to blame your discomfort on the fact that anton is in your vicinity. but how exactly could you do that when he hasn’t interacted with you all night?

come to think of it, your last interaction with the boy in question was earlier today when you told him that his hair looked stupid. you shake your head at the memory— you hadn’t even meant it. you actually liked his hair, but you’d rather drop dead than admit that to him. you hate lee anton with a burning passion, and you hate that you like his hair.

you hate that you’re currently sitting here wishing that he would come up to you and say something. after all, your friends dragged you here and his teammates made it seem as though your attendance was obligatory. the way you see it, the least anton could do after subjecting you to all of that is talk to you. you suppose that you can’t really blame him for not wanting to, though. you kick the sand beneath you at the realization.

you’re not sure how much time you spend thinking about the boy you swear to hate with every fiber of your being, but you conclude that a few long minutes must’ve gone by, because suddenly you look up and find that both your team and anton’s team are gathered around the fire. you watch them carefully, eyes wandering from individual to individual.

you see yujin laughing with some guy from the other team. you see the two boys that invited you and your friends to this very event. finally, your eyes land on anton, and you regret it almost immediately.

he’s nervously scratching the back of his neck the way you often catch him doing. he’s got a bashful smile on his lips as he looks down at whoever he’s currently talking to. you crane your neck to see who that may be, and find that it’s none other than your own teammate and friend— naoi rei.

you make a face of disgust that no one sees, and only then do you realize that you’re still standing a good distance away from the large group. “oh my god,” you scowl. you run a hand over your face, conflicted. you already hated being here, and seeing anton converse with one of your closest friends might’ve just made your attitude towards this whole situation a million times worse. you know that rei is probably over the moon right now, looking up at him with a twinkle in her eye and a girlish smile.

you want to be happy for her— you think that any good friend would jump at the sight of their teammate getting along with the person they find attractive— and you swear that you would be if the person she was talking to was anyone but him. you tell yourself that it’s because rei deserves better than him, ignoring the way your heart plummets. he was only going to chase after you for so long.

you shake your head rapidly as if it would rid your mind of the thought, not knowing where it came from in the first place.

you need to get out of here— asap.

you hate lee anton and you hate that you like his hair and you hate that you spent a decent amount of time tonight wishing that he’d speak to you.

you hate that you even care in the slightest that he’s currently flirting with your best friend and you hate that almost everyone here managed to convince you that he and his teammates invited you simply because he wanted you here.

you discreetly make your way around the group, advancing towards the shore. you don’t think anyone sees you as you do so, hearing the sound of their laughter grow more distant with each step you take towards the sea. as you continue moving forward absentmindedly, you don’t realize that you’re already knees deep in the water until a salty wave crashes into you, reaching the area below your thigh.

“what are you doing?” your head quickly turns to find the source of the voice and you scowl once you realize who it is.

of course, anton chooses now to finally talk to you.

you turn back around, ignoring him, because that’s how you are— you think about him more than you’d ever like to admit and act indifferent towards him once he’s in your presence. anton watches as you turn your back to him, unsure of why he assumed that this interaction with you would be any different from your interactions in the past.

nonetheless, with bravery that he didn’t even know he had, anton continues talking. “you could get sick if you go any further,” he blurts out.

in truth, anton had been watching you through his peripheral vision as he was conversing with rei, and saw as you treaded through the sand and into the water. he excused himself— he had been looking for a way to escape the conversation anyway— and followed your silhouette that was now standing in the ocean, letting waves collide with your legs.

in retrospect, he should’ve thought of something to say to you beforehand, because if the mere act of him talking to you wasn’t enough to piss you off, anton was sure that lecturing you about how you could get sick from swimming at night would definitely cause you to flip your lid.

his suspicions appear to have been correct, because you whip your head back around and give him an angry look. “what are you doing here?” you spit, expecting him to flinch and avoid your gaze the same way that he always does.

“why can’t i be here?” he presses, furrowing his brow, and you’re the one that flinches. “do you own the ocean?”

you’re sure that steam would be coming out of your ears right now if you were living in an old cartoon. you clench your fist, taken aback.

“why do you hate me so much, y/n?” anton pleads, unable to prevent the million dollar question from leaving his lips. this is a position he never thought he’d find himself in; confronting you about your unadulterated hatred towards him while your entire bottom half is almost completely submerged in the ocean.

your lip quivers and you clench your teeth as you feel your resilient facade start to crack. neither you nor anton are sure where his daring attitude came from, but it seems to be catching both of you by surprise, because even the boy in question moves to wipe his palms against his jeans to rid them of their clamminess. “answer me,” he demands, his voice as soft as it normally is and yet it still intimidates you.

you turn around for the forth and final time, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of discovering the root of your distaste towards him. anton shakes his head, although you’re unable to see it, and sharply inhales in preparation for what he’s about to do.

he cautiously takes a step forward, letting the water dampen the cuffs of his jeans. he cringes, but proceeds nevertheless, mimicking the strides that you had taken minutes prior.

before you’re able to prevent it from happening, anton is standing directly beside you, jeans darkening as the water seeps into them, and you nearly jump out of your skin.

the tall boy leans forward, and you lean back. “answer me,” he repeats his previous words in a hushed voice.

you’re looking down at the water that the two of you are standing in and anton thinks it’s funny, for a moment, how the roles seem to be reversed— you’re tense and apprehensive while he’s bold and collected, trying to crane his neck to meet your downward pointed gaze.

“you should know the reason why,” he hears you speak under your breath. you finally look at him, eyes narrowed. “you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” you question, and he recoils.

“i’m not— what? why would— why do you think i’m making fun of you?” anton sputters, genuinely appalled at the accusation. he’s unable to wrap his head around what kind of thoughts might be running through your mind right now.

“because there’s no way in hell that you don’t know why i hate you, lee anton,” you say, words flying from your mouth hurriedly. “there’s no way you just let me push you around and stare at you like you’re the scum of the earth if you don’t know the reason why. you have to know,” you look into his eyes in search of an answer but you’re only met with confusion.

anton shakes his head. “i don’t know, y/n,” he begins, “i really don’t know, and i’m sorry if you think i’m playing a prank on you right now, but i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

he looks down momentarily, his eyes landing on his wet jeans. when he looks back up, he’s zoned in on the way the moon makes your eyes look as though they’re sparkling, and he thinks it’s beautiful. “you may know this already,” he starts speaking again, “but i’m in love with you.”

he makes sure not to stutter or appear anxious in the slightest, afraid that if he made the slightest mistake, he’d try to prevent the words from leaving his mouth. and he needs you to know.

your lips part, his words shocking you more than anything else that has taken place tonight. “i’m always lying to my teammates and my friends, saying that i don’t like you because they think i’m insane for chasing after someone who wishes i didn’t even exist,” anton continues, his tone becoming sorrowful, “but i can’t lie anymore. especially not to you.”

by now, both of your hearts are pounding, and you’re sure that they would be audible if it weren’t for the sounds of the waves crashing. “so, no,” he says, “the reason i let you push me around isn’t because i know why you hate me. it’s because i’m in love with you, and no matter how hard i try, i can’t stop.”

he waits for you to respond, eyes trained on yours. you finally start speaking, lowly and carefully. “there was this guy,” you tell him, “you used to hang out with him last year. i would see you and him laughing together all the time, with two other friends of yours.”

taking in your words, anton ponders who you could be referring to before his eyes widen slightly. “wonbin?” he asks, although he has no doubt in his mind that you’re talking about his older friend. wonbin, seunghan, sohee and anton were practically attached at the hip during the latter’s freshman year of college, and when wonbin made the decision to drop out in order to pursue a career in music, the other three were left to fend for themselves.

you scoff, despite wanting to contain your hostility towards the boy after his confession. “i don’t know his name,” you mumble, “but yeah, that’s probably him.”

anton nods, urging you to continue. he’s finally going to find out why you’ve disliked him for as long as he can remember and he doesn’t want to waste a second. “he told me that you liked me,” you say, watching as the boy flinches in your peripheral at your words. “and i was so happy at the time because i liked you, too.”

it’s anton’s turn to be stunned by your confession, not believing the words that are coming out of your mouth. “i would always look at you, but you’d never look at me back. when your friend— wonbin, i guess— told me that you liked me, i thought that meant you would talk to me,” you shake your head at the memory, “but you never did. it was like i didn’t even exist to you.”

you keep talking, quietly, “every single person who knew me knew that i liked you. one day, i saw you guys laughing together like you always did, and then it clicked in my brain.” you’re silent for a moment before you continue. “i figured that you must’ve known that i liked you, too, and told your friend to say that to me as some sort of cruel joke.”

anton is yet again appalled at your words. “you only seemed to start caring about my existence at the beginning of last semester. you tried to come up to me a few times, and i always assumed it was because you were finally feeling bad about the whole wonbin thing and wanted to apologize, and i didn’t want to hear it. it was around that time that i started hating you.”

you scratch the back of your neck, not having thought that you’d ever admit any of this to the boy standing beside you. anton swallows before he thinks over his next words. “i didn’t know about any of that,” he assures you, and he can sense that you doubt his words momentarily because he starts talking faster. “i’m not sure what prompted wonbin to say that to you, but i can tell you this,” he whispers, “i’ve been in love with you from the very first time i saw you, and no amount of insults or glares from you is ever going to change that.” for a moment, even the waves of the ocean seem to still, leaving only the sound of anton’s voice ringing in your ears.

you’re not used to feeling this vulnerable, and the fact that you’re sharing a moment like this with lee anton— the man you (no longer) hate— sends a shiver down your spine. you find yourself searching for a sense of familiarity, even if it comes in the form of playful banter rather than the usual insult.

“say that again,” you tell him, and he’s unsure if you’re being serious at first. when silence lingers in the air, he finally begins speaking. “i’ve… been in love with you since the first time i saw you,” anton says, unsure. you shake your head, displeased.

“put it in the present tense,” you purse your lips, crossing your arms. anton lets out a curt laugh, now realizing that you’re actually joking with him. so this, he thinks, is what it feels like to laugh with you. “i’m in love with you, y/n,” by now, he’s adorning a smile that reaches his eyes, head slightly tilted towards the ground bashfully.

“wanna know something, lee anton? i think i might be, too.”

weeks later, you’re swinging open the doors to the pool area, the smell of chlorine crashing into you as you step inside.

the boys team is in the middle of practicing, leehan and taesan— who’s names you finally learned after enduring weeks of their relentless teasing, always having to hear a complaint from them about how their team captain is even less focused than before since the two of you started dating— spotting you almost immediately. they let out exaggerated groans, knowing they now have to witness you and anton grossly interact.

“captain!” taesan calls out with dread lacing his tone, “your girlfriend is here.” upon hearing that, anton, who is currently in the pool, whips his head around so quickly that you’re almost positive he could’ve gotten whiplash. you wave, and rather than exiting the water, he swims over to where you stand on the poolside. looking up at you, he smiles, slightly out of breath. “hey, lovely,” he says, removing the goggles from around his head so he can study you better.

he pays no mind to the sounds of his teammates gagging in the background, not looking anywhere but at you.

to say that both your team and anton’s team were surprised upon hearing about your blossoming relationship with the boy would be an understatement. not only did both teams have to grow accustomed to the fact that you no longer hated anton, but they also needed to get used to the mere concept of you two dating each other. it wasn’t as though you two no longer served as distractions to the other, however— if anything, you both stared at each other even more than you had previously, the difference being that now you looked at anton with adoration in your eyes rather than resentment.

“i don’t know if seeing you two together makes my heart want to explode with joy, or if it makes me wanna throw up,” you recall rei telling you during practice one day. anton has shared similar stories, stating that although both taesan and leehan are happy to see their captain in a relationship with the girl he’s been pining after, they hate the way anton apparently never shuts up about you during training.

you look down at the boy, flashing him a smile of your own. droplets of water threaten to fall into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “hey,” you hum, “i won’t bother you long. just checking in.” anton shakes his head, water spraying the floor beneath you in the process. “you never bother me,” he says.

“oh, hush,” you wave your hand dismissively. “i’m serious. hey, can you come down here for a sec?” anton asks, gesturing for you to crouch next to the pool. you give him a suspicious look, morphing your lips into a tight line. “anton, i’m not letting you pull me in there.”

he shakes his head again, letting out a laugh. “i’m not gonna pull you in,” he tells you, and you still aren’t convinced. “y/n!” he whines, stretching the final syllable. you look to the ceiling for a moment, letting out a scoff before kneeling down next to the pool.

in a swift motion, anton grabs your shoulders and lands a kiss on your lips. it’s wet from the water of the pool and you pull away, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. anton is laughing as you swat at his arm, muttering something about how he got your shirt wet.

anton sees an opportunity in the fact that you haven’t stood up yet, fully wrapping his arms around your shoulders, nearly causing you to fall into the chlorinated water. his laughter only increases in volume, and his teammates don’t think they’ve ever heard him laugh that hard. you let out a yelp, feeling the water continue to seep through the fabric of your shirt. you struggle against his embrace, and he shows no signs of releasing you. “lee anton! oh my god— i hate you!”

you both know that you’re lying.

AUTHOR’S NOTE! this is my 30th time trying to post this but we move

so cute!

coherent waves | lee anton ˚₊‧⁺˖

people say the first touch of fate feels like a circuit being completed. so why does lee anton's soulmate seem to hate him?

TAGS: soulmate!au, college!au, gn!reader, cute and awkward engineering majors!anton and reader, confessions in the rain, kiss!

A/N: this boy bias wrecked me SO hard i paused writing a sungchan fic for this haha self-indulgent SCREAMiing as always (to clarify, his mark is on his left, our right)

WORDS: ~1700

Everyone knows Lee Anton's face.

No matter what, everyone's got their campus crushes. The people they'd linger around a corner for in hope of seeing, those with soulmarks you wish would line up just perfectly with your own. Somewhere out there, someone's walking around with your first touch of fate around with them. It's for that reason everyone knows Anton as the campus crush.

It's impossible to miss the six feet of cuteness, the shoulders broad enough to span the Californian coast and the tan handprint branded across his left cheek. Lee Anton, the sweetest guy on campus whose soulmate was destined to slap him in the face once they met. Nothing in it spelt destiny for you, but it was definitely curiosity at first sight.

"Hey, are we okay? Just at group study…” And your brain sputters like a misfiring car. He’s right behind you, isn’t he?

You want to pretend you didn’t hear him over the bucketing rain – maybe even your thunderous heart. Without an umbrella, you’re screwed if you run down the library steps into the dark and you’d look insane to push past him back into the library. Damn.

Not once did you dare speak to him during the entire group study. Though the feeling of his curious eyes lingering on you alone lit you up like a fuse about to blow. No wonder he's asking you if you're okay. The entire time you acted like some tween with a stupid crush. Which you’re not. Clearly and obviously not. First year electrical engineering has enough problems to give you a migraine.

Something about being around him sets your brain off like a capacitor discharging. Everything firing off at once, without a thought of where to go.  

"No? Yes! Yes. Fuck – sorry. We’re fine." Is what you come up with.

And some boy can apparently render you stupid within two feet of him. Someone needs to remind you how you’re a candidate for the dean’s list again.

Your stilted answer and the ensuing silence cause the corner of Anton's lip to quirk into a grimace. "Ah – okay. Sorry, I'll see you Friday.” When he takes out his umbrella it nearly whacks you in the face before he starts to run down the steps, leaving not a glance behind him.

Ah, shit.

Stunned, you’re left with a) no umbrella and b) a burning sense of mortification about how badly that went. Before you know it, your feet are running you down the path he took. One problem at a time… c’mon fix this. "Hey! Hey wait up, please! Anton!"

Running in the pouring rain was something you never planned on doing tonight or any day of the week but for fixing whatever you’ve got with Anton – it seems worth it.

Whatever they used to say about stem majors being chronically unfit bookworms definitely applies to you, as your heart thuds in your skull and lungs start to give out. Somehow after months of trailing behind his broad back, you underestimated how quickly he can escape you. 

Finally, like a lighthouse in the night, his blue umbrella is radiant under the light of the bus stop. “Anton!”

Three months of dodging each other’s eyes and scampering out empty classrooms early, Anton’s eyes are at the edges of almost all your memories. You know his wide eyed look anywhere. But with as much grace of a new-born giraffe, you sidle next to him under his umbrella, unaware of the blush warming Anton’s face.

Thankfully there’s no one else about apart from him to watch you keel over for a solid minute to gather your breath. Internally you think you’re as bright red as the LEDs you use in the labs. That, and so soaked you’re sure you're waking up with a cold tomorrow. Though, it could be worse. It could be whatever happened earlier.

Caught again in his orbit, you feel it again. The charge crackling under your skin that makes you want to claw at it.

It’s a moment before anyone speaks, still too busy process what exactly is going on. Eventually you gain your bearings and look into his shifty eyes with resolution.

“Hey look – I’m super sorry about everything,” you blurt. “The entire thing with the study group and completely dodging you in class. I – well, it’s not on purpose but I don’t know why but it’s like I get caught in some interference feed within like a meter of you and I just can’t think straight. Everything just sort of fires off in an incoherent mess. I’m trying, I really do but for once, I just can’t explain it.” It pours out in what feels like one breath. You feel like you’re teetering on the spot, on the cusp of embarrassment or sheer confidence. At this point, it might just be both. “… Sorry if I made you uncomfortable about anything but you’re top of our year, so damn cool and collected all the time – I feel like my wires get mixed up.” 

There’s an ache in your neck from looking up to him and watching his reaction. Calm and collected as always. It must be the longest you’ve ever got to look him in the eyes properly. Until,

“Me too.”

Huh?

Anton pauses for a moment, worrying the inside of his cheek before admitting, “I… I really wished we could talk more but you’re always busy and I feel awkward butting in. You’re really intimidating in the group studies, you know? You know everything and get along with everyone so easily. I psyche myself out.”

As he talks, your cheeks warm in endearment and you shuffle closer while he’s distracted. The familiar scent of cherries that would haunt you around campus suddenly right under your nose.

“I mean, I thought you’d just be another person put off by this-“ he waves a self-conscious hand over his soulmark “-and being avoidant because of that. Though I guess I figured you didn’t care because you never lingered on it like… like everyone else.”

It comes to you all in pieces. Anton always ducking his head away, never looking anyone straight on, always pursing his lips and turning away whenever someone brought up soulmarks. Those rumours haunt him.

However, standing here you’ve never been more confident. You know your what your hand looks like.

Does he?

“I think it has a good story.” The look of disbelief he gives you is priceless but you push on. “I mean, mine’s just on my palm just like seventy percent of the population so it can be boring.” Under the light, you raise your hand to him, showing the contrasting darker skin on your right palm and the small shake of your fingers. Anton locks onto your mark with a laser focus that you’ve never seen before. “And besides… I think you know what your soulmark actually is.”

One step closer: you’re just a hairsbreadth away. So close you can feel is body heat through his hoodie and see your breath leaving goosebumps on the expanse of his exposed neck. In the reflection of his blown pupils you can almost see yourself.

He swallows, eyes never leaving your palm. "You know what everyone says about it." Anton chews at his lip, bitten raw from worry. It’s stupidly endearing whether he knows it or not. Instead of dropping it, you raise your hand, leaving it to rest on his shoulder in comfort. “That the only reason I get slapped is because I’m secretly an asshole?”

"You don't know that it’s a slap for sure.”

"Then what else could it be then.”

"Really, Anton?" you hum. He’s so tense under your hand you feel like he could shatter from where you touch him. His eyes dazed and lingering where your hand used to be "We’re both smarter than this.”

Under the streetlight, what he has is clear as day to you while you trace his mark with your eyes. The thumbprint that curls across his left cheekbone, to the fingertips that edge from his hairline to his jaw and even the light shadow that touches the corner of his lip – as if he’s pressing a kiss to the heel of their palm. "Whoever it is, they're holding you."

“…Whoever it is… ?” he murmurs.

Anton’s unwavering gaze finally bores into you. Two interstellar blackholes swallowing you up and bearing down. An infinite number of thoughts or none at all. All behind those eyes, calculating and calibrating. You wonder where he is in that brilliant mind of his.

“Do it.”

You’re so careful.

You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if you hurt him. Maybe this doesn’t work out? What if you’re just another person in the crowd watching and waiting for someone else. You knew from the moment you started high school, life was a bunch of problems that you had to solve. The sheer existence of uncertainty guarantees nothing in any aspect of your life. What is guaranteed already, what are the variables, what are you working with. Whatever this is – it’ll be another problem but not one you get to calculate – it's one you need to guess.

His skin is too warm, and your hand is too cold. Nothing sparks but something is complete in your heart.

It fades. The marks – yours, his, all of it. It recedes back as if it never existed.

"I told you so."   

The clatter of the umbrella is your only warning before his hands cup your face and he kisses you. He kisses you in earnest, softer than you'd expect and warm enough to make your knees weak. With a deceptive strength, Anton presses you back against a railing, and your arms loop around his neck, hands burying in his hair. Hidden muscles you used to wonder about, tense where you touch him.

Eyes closed to the rain, foreheads knocked together and not a care in the world. You’re pulled into him like air. Both of you are trembling with relief. Like coherent waves, you come together in sync and everything you feel is amplified between you two. It’s then you know exactly what was racing in his mind.

Smiling into your neck, Anton sighs. "I'm yours." His voice lower and a little bit breathier. It makes your heart skip a beat, and your mouth turns up at the corners.

All across your veins it’s like a current is pushing through your skin. Anton and you, a circuit complete.

blehh i'm rusty but i'm starting uni as a mechEng student soonish so wish me luck 🫡 a reblog or a like always helps to encourage more thank you! ⭒ masterlist

---

So cute!

embers – choi soobin

word count: 16.4k

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: After a devastating breakup in Seoul, Y/N returns to her small hometown, seeking solace in the familiar but finding her past more complicated than she remembered. As she reconnects with her family, twin brother Beomgyu, and her childhood friends Ryujin and Soobin, the unresolved feelings she has for Soobin begin to resurface. Amidst the backdrop of small-town life and the warmth of old friendships, Y/N must navigate the pain of her past to discover whether her heart truly belongs in the place she left behind—or in the arms of the person who's always been there, waiting.

genre: love next door!au, childhood friends to lovers, slowburn, fluff, suggestive themes

The train slows as it nears the station, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks gradually fading. Outside the window, the cityscape of Seoul has long since given way to the rolling hills and open fields of Gwangcheon, the small town you once called home. You haven’t been back in years, not since you left for university and the bright lights of the city. Now, the sight of it fills you with a mixture of anxiety and reluctant nostalgia.

Your reflection in the window stares back at you, eyes still puffy from the sleepless nights that have plagued you since the breakup. Seoul was supposed to be your fresh start, your escape from the confines of small-town life. Instead, it became the place where everything fell apart.

His name was Daehyun. You met during your second year of university, in a café just off campus where you both liked to study. He had a warm smile, the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the room, and a outgoing personality that drew you in. He was different from anyone you’d ever met—sophisticated, ambitious, and completely in control of his life. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

For a while, everything was perfect. He introduced you to a world you’d only ever dreamed of—fancy restaurants, art galleries, weekend trips to places you’d never been. He made you feel special, important, like you were part of something bigger. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, things began to change. 

He became distant, absorbed in his work and his own life. You told yourself it was just a phase, that he was busy, that he still cared. But the late-night arguments started, his voice cold and cutting as he accused you of being too needy, too demanding. You tried to make it work, to hold onto the relationship that had once made you so happy. But it was like trying to hold water in your hands—the more you tried, the more it slipped away.

The final straw came when you found out he’d been seeing someone else, a girl from his work. The betrayal cut deep, shattering the last remnants of the trust you’d once had in him. You confronted him, hoping for an apology, for some sign that he still cared. But all he said was that he didn’t see a future with you, that it was better to end things now before it got worse.

You left his apartment that night, your heart in pieces, the life you’d built in Seoul suddenly meaningless. You couldn’t stay there, surrounded by memories of him, by the constant reminders of what you’d lost. So you packed your things, bought a train ticket, and left the city behind without a word to anyone.

As the train pulls into the station, you force yourself to take a deep breath. You’re not ready for this, not ready to face your family and the questions you know are coming. But there’s no turning back now. The past few months have been a blur of pain and confusion, and all you can do is hope that coming home will help you find some semblance of peace.

The station is small, just as you remember it, with only a handful of people waiting on the platform. As you step off the train, your suitcase rolling behind you, you spot Beomgyu leaning against the hood of the family car. He hasn’t changed much—your twin brother is tall and lean, with the same mischievous glint in his eyes that’s been there since you were kids. But there’s something else in his expression now, something softer, more understanding.

When he sees you, his face lights up with a smile that makes your heart ache with a bittersweet mix of relief and guilt. He pushes off the car and walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug before you can say anything.

“Hey, you,” he says, his voice warm and familiar. “You made it.”

You nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “Yeah. I’m here.”

He pulls back, studying your face with a concerned frown. “You okay?”

You manage a shaky smile. “Not really. But I will be.”

He nods, seeming to understand. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The drive through town is quiet, the silence between you and Beomgyu filled with unspoken words. The streets of Gwangcheon look almost exactly as they did when you left—small shops with faded signs, the old school building, and the park where you and Beomgyu used to play. The familiarity is comforting, but also disorienting, like stepping into a past you’re not sure you belong to anymore.

Beomgyu keeps glancing over at you as he drives, his expression thoughtful. “Mom’s going to be surprised,” he says after a while. “You didn’t give her any warning.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to tell her. Or what to say.”

“She’ll understand,” he says firmly. “She’s just going to be happy you’re home.”

You nod, hoping he’s right. You haven’t told anyone the full story—not your parents, not Beomgyu, not even your closest friends. It’s too raw, too painful to put into words. But you know you can’t avoid it forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face the questions, the concern, the inevitable pity.

When you pull up to the house, the familiar sight of it brings a rush of memories. It’s a modest place, with a small garden out front that your mother has always taken pride in. The curtains in the living room window flutter slightly, a sign that someone inside has noticed your arrival.

Beomgyu grabs your suitcase from the trunk and gives you a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

“Not really,” you admit, but you follow him up the path anyway, your heart pounding in your chest.

He opens the door without knocking, calling out, “Mom! We’re here!”

You step into the entryway, the familiar scent of home—lavender and something faintly floral—washing over you. It’s a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. You can hear footsteps coming down the hall, and then your mother appears, her face lighting up with surprise and confusion as she sees you standing there.

“Y/N?” she says, her voice filled with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

You try to smile, but it feels forced. “Surprise?”

For a moment, she just stares at you, as if trying to convince herself that you’re really here. Then she steps forward, pulling you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you with a familiarity that brings tears to your eyes. You can feel the tension in her shoulders, the worry she’s trying to hide, but she doesn’t say anything, just holds you like she’s afraid to let go.

After a long moment, she pulls back, her hands still resting on your shoulders as she studies your face. “What happened, sweetheart? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I…I needed to get away. From Seoul. From everything.”

Her expression softens, and she nods, understanding without you needing to explain further. “You’re home now,” she says gently. “That’s all that matters.”

Beomgyu sets your suitcase down by the stairs and gives you a small smile. “I’ll take your stuff up to your room.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, grateful for his quiet support.

Your mother guides you into the living room, where the afternoon light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the familiar furniture. You sit down on the sofa, feeling the weight of the past few months pressing down on you. Your mother sits beside you, her hand resting on yours, offering silent comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks softly, her voice full of concern.

You shake your head, the tears threatening to spill over. “Not yet. I just…I need some time.”

She nods, squeezing your hand gently. “Take all the time you need, sweetheart. We’re here for you.”

The warmth of her words wraps around you like a blanket, easing some of the tension that has been sitting in your chest. You lean back against the sofa, letting out a long breath as you try to relax. The house is quiet, the only sound the distant ticking of the old clock on the mantel.

Beomgyu returns a few minutes later, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. “Everything’s in your room,” he says, sitting down on the armchair across from you. “Figured you might want to unpack later.”

You nod, too exhausted to do much more than that. “Thanks, Beomgyu.”

He shrugs, but there’s a softness in his eyes that tells you he’s just as relieved as you are to have you home. “What are brothers for?”

Your mother glances between the two of you, her expression a mixture of relief and concern. “Why don’t we have some tea? I just made a fresh pot.”

You agree, grateful for the distraction. As she heads to the kitchen, Beomgyu gives you a knowing look. “Want to sneak out?”

You laugh, slightly taken aback before shaking your head. You’ve been away so long, too long, and it’s made you momentarily forget how much you missed your brother and all of his mischief.

When your mother returns with the tea, the three of you settle into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the house seeping into your bones. For the first time in weeks, you feel a small flicker of hope, like maybe, just maybe, things will be okay again.

You sit with Beomgyu and your mother, sipping tea in the cozy living room. The warmth of the tea combined with the comforting atmosphere starts to thaw the cold ache in your chest. Your mother chatters about the latest town gossip, the news she knows you haven’t kept up with since moving to Seoul. Beomgyu chimes in now and then, adding his own commentary that makes your mother smile and shake her head in that fond, exasperated way she always does with him.

You’re beginning to feel a sense of normalcy, like maybe you can fit back into this life, even after everything that’s happened. But just as you start to relax, the sound of the front door opening interrupts the moment.

Your father’s voice echoes from the hallway, a familiar deep rumble that always made you feel safe as a child. “Honey, I’m home! You’ll never guess what—” He stops mid-sentence as he steps into the living room, his eyes landing on you. For a second, he just stares, as if trying to process whether or not you’re real. 

“Y/N?” His voice is filled with disbelief, his eyes wide as he looks at you. “Am I dreaming, or is my daughter really sitting on my couch?”

You stand up, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “It’s me, Dad. I’m home.”

He blinks a few times, then a wide grin spreads across his face. “Well, I’ll be! The prodigal daughter returns!” He strides across the room and wraps you in a bear hug, lifting you slightly off the ground like he used to when you were little. You laugh, the sound surprising you with how natural it feels.

When he finally sets you down, he steps back and gives you a once-over, his expression a mix of concern and affection. “What brings you back to our little corner of the world? You didn’t even tell us you were coming!”

Your mother, who had been watching with a fond smile, steps in before you can answer. “She needed a break from the city, that’s all. And we’re just happy to have her back, aren’t we?”

“Happy?” Your dad scoffs playfully. “That’s an understatement! This calls for a celebration!” He claps his hands together, then turns to Beomgyu. “Go grab that cake from the fridge, son. We’ve got something to celebrate now!”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes but grins, heading to the kitchen to fetch the cake. You can’t help but smile at your dad’s enthusiasm. He’s always been the lighthearted one, the one who could turn any situation into something to laugh about. It’s comforting, especially after everything you’ve been through.

As you all settle back into the living room with slices of cake, your dad starts telling stories from work, exaggerating the mundane until you’re all laughing so hard your sides hurt. For a moment, you forget about the heartbreak, the betrayal, and the uncertainty. Here, with your family, things feel almost normal again.

After a while, the conversation turns quieter, the evening settling in around you. You glance out the window, the sky a deep indigo as night takes hold. It’s been a long day, and the emotional toll of coming home is starting to catch up with you.

“I think I’m going to head up to my room,” you say, rising from the sofa. “It’s been a long day.”

Your mother looks up at you, her eyes soft with understanding. “Of course, sweetheart. Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Beomgyu nods, still munching on his cake. “Yeah, you’ll need your energy for Mom’s full interrogation tomorrow.”

You laugh softly, but there’s a sadness in it, too. You wave goodnight and head upstairs, the familiar creak of the wooden steps under your feet. Your room is exactly as you left it—well, almost. There are a few changes, little signs that your mother has kept it clean and cozy even in your absence. The bed is freshly made, and the shelves are dusted, but everything else is just as it was when you left for Seoul.

You set your suitcase down and walk over to the window, looking out at the quiet street. It’s so different from the bustling chaos of Seoul, where everything felt like it was moving too fast, too uncontrollably. Here, everything is still, calm, almost eerily peaceful. You sit on the edge of your bed, the weight of the day finally pressing down on you. The ache in your chest that you’ve been holding at bay all evening starts to grow, and you can feel the tears welling up behind your eyes.

But before you can let yourself break down, there’s a soft tapping at your window.

You freeze, confused, then look over. Your heart skips a beat when you see Ryujin standing outside, a wide grin on her face, her breath fogging up the glass. She waves at you, her smile so familiar it makes you want to cry.

You scramble to open the window, and she immediately climbs inside with the grace and ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before. As soon as she’s in, she tackles you in a hug, nearly knocking you off the bed.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Ryujin says, her voice a mix of excitement and disbelief. “When my mom said she saw you coming home, I thought she was joking!”

You laugh, the sound choked by the emotion in your throat, and hug her back tightly. “I’m here. I’m really here.”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes scanning your face with concern. “I knew something was up when I didn’t hear from you for a while, but I didn’t expect this. Are you okay?”

You shake your head, tears finally spilling over. “Not really. But being here…it helps.”

Ryujin’s expression softens, and she wipes away your tears with her thumb. “You’re home now. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You nod, unable to speak as more tears fall. She pulls you into another hug, her presence a comfort you didn’t realize you needed so badly. The two of you sit there for a long time, just holding each other in the dim light of your room.

Eventually, Ryujin pulls back and flops onto your bed, patting the spot beside her. “Come on, let’s catch up. It’s been way too long since we had one of our late-night talks.”

You smile through your tears and join her, the two of you lying side by side like you used to in high school. The conversation flows easily, like no time has passed at all. She tells you about everything that’s happened in Gwangcheon since you left—who’s dating who, the latest school scandals, and all the little things you’ve missed.

As the night wears on, you find yourself feeling lighter, the burden of your breakup and the move back home easing just a little. 

“So…have you seen Soobin yet?”

You stiffen slightly, the name bringing back a flood of memories you’ve been trying to keep at bay. Soobin, your childhood friend, the boy who lived next door. The boy who was always there, even when you didn’t realize how much you needed him. 

“No,” you say quietly, staring up at the ceiling. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

Ryujin rolls onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look at you. “He’s been around, you know. Helping his mom with the garden, hanging out at the old spots. I think he’ll be really happy to see you.”

You nod, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and fear. You’ve kept in touch with Soobin, but it’s been sporadic, the two of you drifting apart as you got older and your lives took different paths. But now that you’re back, there’s a part of you that’s terrified of what seeing him again might mean.

Ryujin seems to sense your hesitation and reaches out to squeeze your hand. “It’ll be okay, Y/N. He’s still Soobin, and you’re still you. Just…talk to him. Like old times.”

You nod again, but the knot in your stomach doesn’t loosen. You know you’ll have to face him eventually, just like you have to face everything else. But for tonight, you’re grateful to have Ryujin by your side, helping you navigate the tangled mess of your emotions.

As the two of you talk late into the night, you feel a little more like yourself, a little more like the girl who used to lie here with her best friend, dreaming about the future and everything it held. 

You wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs, the scent of your mother’s pancakes filling the air. The sun is just beginning to filter through your curtains, and for a moment, you feel a sense of peace, as if the world outside your window isn’t so complicated. It’s a sharp contrast to the rush and chaos of Seoul mornings, where you barely had time to grab a piece of toast before running out the door. 

You roll over, half expecting to see Ryujin still curled up next to you, but the spot beside you is empty. Her absence pulls you from the cocoon of warmth you’d wrapped yourself in. Your mind flickers with the memory of last night, the way she’d asked about Soobin, and how much his name had unsettled you. You stretch out the tension from your limbs, a part of you grateful that she didn’t push the conversation further.

After quickly changing into something comfortable, you head downstairs, following the sounds of clattering dishes and the hum of conversation. When you reach the kitchen, you find your mother at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced ease. Your father is seated at the table, sipping his coffee and reading the morning paper. Beomgyu, ever the night owl, is half-asleep with his head on the table, barely managing to keep his eyes open. 

“Good morning,” you say, sliding into the chair next to Beomgyu. He grunts a sleepy response, still not fully awake.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mother replies brightly, turning to give you a warm smile. “I was just about to call you down. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Your dad peers over the top of his newspaper, giving you a nod of greeting. “Morning, kiddo. Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” you say, though the truth is that your sleep was fitful, your mind too busy with thoughts of everything that’s changed. But you don’t want to burden your parents with that, not when they’re so happy to have you home.

Just as you’re about to ask where Ryujin went, the front door swings open with a loud creak, and she bursts into the kitchen, a wide grin on her face. And right behind her is Soobin.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, the memories of last night’s conversation rushing back. He looks almost exactly as you remember—tall, with that familiar mop of dark hair falling into his eyes. There’s something in the way he carries himself that’s different now, though—a quiet confidence that wasn’t there when you were kids.

“Look who I found wandering around outside!” Ryujin announces, her voice full of mischief. She’s practically dragging Soobin by the arm as she pulls him into the kitchen. He gives her an exasperated look, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Morning,” Soobin says, his voice warm but slightly hesitant as his eyes meet yours. You can tell he’s unsure, probably wondering how you’re going to react after all this time.

“Morning, Soobin!” your mother says cheerfully, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to be here. “Sit down, I’ll get you a plate. We’ve got plenty of pancakes.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Soobin replies, taking a seat at the table. Ryujin plops down next to him, grinning at the both of you like she knows something you don’t. 

You offer Soobin a small smile, still feeling the awkwardness lingering between you, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth of seeing him again. “Hey, Soobin.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, returning your smile. His voice is softer than you remember, but there’s a steadiness to it that reassures you. The tension between you begins to ease just a little.

“Finally,” Beomgyu mumbles, pushing himself up from the table, more awake now that the smell of pancakes has fully roused him. “I thought I was the only one getting dragged out of bed this early.”

Ryujin snickers. “Oh, please, Beomgyu. You’re always the last one up. I had to do all the work to get him here.”

Soobin chuckles, shaking his head. “She practically jumped through my window to get me up. I’m still not sure how she got into my house.”

Beomgyu grins, the drowsiness now fully replaced by his usual humor. “That’s just Ryujin for you. No one is safe from her morning raids.”

“Exactly,” Ryujin says, unrepentant. She looks at Soobin, then at you, a glint of something in her eyes. “Anyway, I figured you’d want to see each other. It’s been way too long.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, but you quickly focus on your breakfast, not wanting to let the moment become too heavy. Still, you can feel Soobin’s gaze on you, and when you glance up, he’s watching you with that same soft, almost nostalgic expression.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “It has been.”

The conversation around the table soon picks up, with your dad jumping in to share some of the ridiculous stories from his job, while Ryujin and Beomgyu start bickering over the last pancake. Soobin joins in, his laugh filling the room and making you remember all the times the three of you hung out here after school, eating snacks your mom prepared while you joked around until your sides hurt.

For a while, the stiffness between you and Soobin fades, and you find yourselves slipping back into the easy childhood friendship you once shared. He teases you about your terrible aim in the old treehouse slingshot wars, and you fire back about his disastrous attempt at baking cookies that one time. Even Beomgyu gets in on it, reminding Soobin of the time he got stuck in the fence trying to sneak into your backyard.

“Oh my god, I thought we agreed never to speak of that again,” Soobin groans, his face turning slightly red as everyone laughs.

“No way, man,” Beomgyu says, grinning. “That’s one of the all-time classics. Right up there with Ryujin breaking the garden gnome.”

“That gnome was creepy anyway,” Ryujin protests, but she’s laughing, too.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, the sound coming easier than it has in weeks. It feels good, like a small piece of the puzzle that is your life is clicking back into place. The breakfast stretches longer than you expected, the food mostly forgotten as the four of you talk and joke like old times.

Eventually, though, the clock on the wall chimes, reminding Soobin that he has to go. He glances at it and sighs, reluctantly pushing his chair back.

“I should head out,” he says, looking a bit regretful. “Work and all that.”

You nod, feeling a pang of disappointment that surprises you. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for coming over.”

Soobin smiles at you, and this time, it reaches his eyes. “Anytime, Y/N. I’m really glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say softly, and you mean it.

He says his goodbyes to your parents, who wave him off with promises to invite him over for dinner soon. Ryujin walks him to the door, but not before giving you a knowing look over her shoulder.

Once he’s gone, the house feels a little quieter, a little emptier, though the warmth from breakfast still lingers. Beomgyu leans back in his chair, stretching with a contented sigh.

“Well, that was nice,” he says, then gives you a teasing smile. “You and Soobin seemed to get along pretty well, huh?”

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks flush slightly. “Shut up, Beomgyu.”

“Come on, he’s just teasing,” Ryujin says, returning to the kitchen with a satisfied grin. “It was nice seeing you two together again. Felt like old times.”

You smile, though there’s a lot left unsaid. “Yeah, it did.”

The sun hangs low in the sky as you make your way back home, the weight of the grocery bags in your hands grounding you in the moment. The streets of your hometown are quieter now, bathed in the soft hues of evening, and the familiarity of it all is both comforting and unsettling. You pass by houses you know so well, each one holding memories from a time when life felt simpler.

When you reach your house, you notice a familiar figure standing on a ladder just outside the front door. Soobin is there, fiddling with a light fixture, his tall frame stretched to its limit as he tries to reach the wiring. You pause for a moment, watching him, a mix of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. 

As if sensing your presence, Soobin glances down and catches your eye, a grin spreading across his face. “Back already? I thought I had more time to finish this before you got home.”

“Guess I’m faster than you thought,” you reply, smirking as you walk up to the door. “What are you doing, anyway? Isn’t that light Beomgyu’s job?”

Soobin scoffs, shaking his head as he returns to his work. “Beomgyu can barely change a light bulb without breaking something. Your mom called me over. Said this thing’s been flickering for weeks.”

You chuckle, knowing all too well how disastrous Beomgyu can be with household tasks. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I’m surprised you’re the one she called, though.”

Soobin shrugs, still focused on the light. “She knows I’m good at this stuff. And I guess I can’t say no to her.”

You stand there for a moment, watching as he works. There’s something oddly satisfying about seeing him like this, so at ease with himself, even in the small, mundane task of fixing a light. It’s a stark contrast to the image of him you had in your mind all those years in Seoul, where he was just a memory, something to miss in quiet moments.

Finally, he finishes up, stepping down from the ladder and giving the light a final check. “There. All fixed,” he announces, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Impressive,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe. “But you missed a spot.”

Soobin’s eyes narrow playfully. “Where?”

You point to a random spot on the light, smirking as he follows your finger. “Right there.”

He rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re messing with him. “Very funny, Y/N.”

You laugh, pushing off the doorframe. “You’re welcome. Now, help me with these groceries.”

He obliges, taking a few of the heavier bags from your hands as you both head inside. The house is warm and cozy, the smells of dinner already wafting through the air. Your mom calls out a greeting from the kitchen, but it’s clear she’s busy with preparations.

You and Soobin head to the living room, where you set the bags down on the coffee table. The room is quiet, save for the occasional clatter of dishes from the kitchen, and it’s strange being alone with him again, after all this time.

“So, how long are you staying?” Soobin asks casually, breaking the silence as he takes a seat on the couch.

You hesitate, knowing that question has been on the tip of everyone’s tongues since you arrived. “I’m not sure yet. I guess it depends.”

“Depends on what?” he asks, genuinely curious.

You shrug, avoiding his gaze. “A lot of things.”

He watches you for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure you out, then changes the subject. “You still remember how to cook, right? Or do I need to take over in the kitchen?”

You scoff, grabbing the bag of vegetables and heading to the kitchen. “Please, I’ve been living on my own for years. I’m pretty sure I know how to chop a few vegetables.”

Soobin follows you, leaning against the counter as you start to unpack the groceries. “Just checking. You never know, city life might’ve turned you into one of those takeout-only types.”

“Not a chance,” you say, setting a cutting board on the counter and grabbing a knife. “But thanks for the concern.”

He smirks, watching as you begin slicing the vegetables with practiced ease. “I’m impressed. Maybe you have changed.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’re the one who’s changed, not me. I never would’ve pegged you as the handy type.”

He laughs softly. “People can surprise you.”

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, exchanging banter as you prepare dinner. It feels almost like old times, the bickering and teasing coming naturally, even after all the years apart. But there’s an underlying tension, a sense that there’s more to say, more to ask.

As you chop up the last of the vegetables, Soobin clears his throat, the casual tone of the conversation shifting slightly. “So, uh… are you still with that guy? Daehyun, or something?” he hesitates when saying his name, like he can’t quite remember it, but it sounds almost as if he can exactly remember.

Your hands freeze for a moment, the knife hovering over the cutting board. You knew this question would come eventually, but you hadn’t expected it so soon, or so directly. You glance at Soobin, who’s watching you with a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place.

“No,” you say quietly, resuming your chopping at a slower pace. “We… broke up.”

Soobin’s brow furrows in concern. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, forcing a smile as you set the knife down. “It was… a long time coming, I guess.”

He nods slowly, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You take a deep breath, debating how much to tell him. You haven’t even told your parents the whole truth, not wanting to worry them more than necessary. But with Soobin, it feels different—like maybe you owe him at least some of the truth.

“It just… wasn’t working out,” you say, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “We wanted different things. Or rather, he wanted something I couldn’t give him.”

Soobin’s gaze softens, and you can tell he’s piecing it together, but he doesn’t push. “Sounds like he was an idiot.”

You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe I was the idiot for sticking around as long as I did.”

He shakes his head, his expression turning serious. “You’re not an idiot, Y/N. Sometimes things just don’t work out, no matter how much you want them to.”

You meet his eyes, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah. I just wish I’d figured that out sooner.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence, Soobin’s presence a steadying force as you let the weight of your words settle between you. It’s not the whole story, not by a long shot, but it’s more than you’ve told anyone else. And for now, that’s enough.

“Well,” Soobin says after a moment, his tone lighter as he pushes off the counter, “if you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to make fun of, you know where to find me.”

You smile, genuinely this time. “Thanks, Soobin. I appreciate that.”

He grins, that easy, familiar smile that you’ve missed more than you realized. “Anytime, Y/N.”

As you both continue preparing dinner, the conversation shifts back to lighter topics, the tension between you easing into something more comfortable, more familiar. It’s strange how quickly you’ve fallen back into this dynamic, but it’s also comforting in a way you didn’t expect.

And you allow yourself to think for a moment that maybe being back home wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

The next couple of weeks pass in a blur of small-town rhythms, a stark contrast to the constant noise and motion of Seoul. You find yourself falling back into old routines, hanging out with Ryujin, spending time with your family, and catching up with Soobin. It’s comforting, in a way, but also unsettling—like you’re living in a strange limbo, where everything is familiar but slightly off-kilter.

Ryujin is a constant presence, as she always was, dragging you out of the house whenever she can. Whether it’s to grab a coffee, take a walk around the neighborhood, or just sit and gossip like you used to in high school, she’s there, her energy relentless. She never pushes you to talk about why you came home, though. She’s content to let you come to her when you’re ready, and for that, you’re grateful.

Your parents, on the other hand, aren’t as subtle. Your mom, especially, hovers more than usual, her concern evident in the way she keeps asking if you’re okay, if you need anything, if there’s something you want to talk about. You deflect with practiced ease, reassuring her that you’re fine, that you just needed a break from the city. She seems to accept it, but you can tell she’s not convinced.

Soobin is around often, whether he’s coming over to help with something around the house or just hanging out with you and Beomgyu. You fall back into an easy friendship with him, the teasing and bickering coming naturally, just like it always did. But there’s something different now, a tension that lingers beneath the surface, something neither of you acknowledges but both of you feel.

It’s on one of these typical days that Soobin invites you out for dinner with some of his coworkers. “It’ll be fun,” he promises as the two of you lounge in the living room, flipping through TV channels. “They’re a good group. Plus, I could use someone to keep me in check.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Since when do you need someone to keep you in check?”

Soobin grins. “Since I started working with these guys. They like to drink. A lot.”

You laugh, but you agree to go. The thought of getting out of the house, doing something different, is appealing. Plus, you’re curious to meet the people Soobin spends his time with these days.

That night, you find yourself in a cozy, bustling restaurant, surrounded by Soobin and his coworkers. They’re a lively bunch, full of jokes and stories, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel at ease with them. The drinks start flowing almost as soon as you sit down, and before long, the whole group is in high spirits.

You find yourself laughing more than you have in weeks, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your veins as you listen to Soobin’s coworkers tell ridiculous stories about him. Soobin, for his part, takes it all in stride, grinning sheepishly as his friends poke fun at him.

At some point, the conversation turns to confessions—nothing too serious, just silly admissions brought on by the alcohol. One of Soobin’s coworkers, a guy named Jisoo, starts it off, confessing that he once got caught sneaking into his girlfriend’s house by her parents, who thought he was a burglar. The table erupts in laughter, and soon everyone’s sharing their own embarrassing stories.

When it’s Soobin’s turn, he hesitates, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “Alright, but you can’t judge me too harshly, okay?”

You raise your glass, already giggling. “No promises.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. So… back in high school, I had the biggest crush on someone, and I spent an entire year pretending to be terrible at math just so she’d tutor me.”

The table bursts into laughter, but the alcohol and thoughts in your mind start suddenly swirling around rapidly. Didn’t you give him algebra lessons in 10th grade? Maybe he’s talking about someone else…

“Did it work?” someone asks.

Soobin shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I passed algebra, didn’t I?”

The laughter continues, and you feel a strange warmth in your chest, and his added comment only continues to make your mind race. The night goes on, and the drinks keep coming, until you’re all a little too tipsy, the world spinning just enough to make everything feel surreal. The drinks have taken off the edge about Soobin’s comments, for a little while at least.

At some point, Soobin leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “You know, I really did have a crush on you back then.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden confession, but before you can respond, he pulls back, his eyes a little unfocused as he gives you a lopsided grin. “Too much to drink, huh?”

You smile softly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I guess so,” you breath out, the word increasing its spinning around you but you’re not convinced it’s because of the alcohol anymore.

He chuckles, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “Maybe.”

The moment hangs between you, charged with an intensity that’s almost too much to bear. But before anything else can happen, Soobin’s head lolls to the side, his eyes slipping shut as he mumbles something incoherent.

“Great,” you mutter, half-amused, half-exasperated as you try to shake him awake. “Soobin, come on, don’t pass out on me now.”

But he’s out cold, his breathing steady as he slumps against the table. You sigh, realizing there’s no way you’re getting him home by yourself. With a resigned smile, you pull out your phone and call Beomgyu.

He answers on the second ring, sounding more amused than concerned when you explain the situation. “Of course, he passed out. Why am I not surprised?”

“Just hurry up and get over here,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I can’t carry him by myself.”

Beomgyu arrives a short while later, looking entirely too amused by the situation as he takes in the sight of Soobin slumped over the table. “Wow, he’s really out, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to laugh as you stand up. “Think you can handle him?”

Beomgyu snorts. “Do I have a choice?”

With some effort, the two of you manage to get Soobin on his feet, though he’s mostly dead weight, mumbling incoherently as you half-drag, half-carry him out of the restaurant. The fresh air hits you like a shock, clearing your head just enough to realize how ridiculous this all is.

“This is a disaster,” you mutter, struggling to keep Soobin upright as Beomgyu does most of the heavy lifting.

Beomgyu chuckles. “It’s a disaster you walked right into.”

Before long, you realize that even with Beomgyu’s help, getting Soobin all the way back home is going to be nearly impossible. You try to be optimistic, but when Soobin starts to slip from your grasp, you realize you need reinforcements.

“I think we need to call Ryujin,” you admit reluctantly, pulling out your phone again.

Beomgyu groans. “Do we have to?”

You can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. “We don’t have a choice, Gyu. I can barely keep him up, and you’re not exactly faring much better.”

Reluctantly, Beomgyu agrees, and you call Ryujin, who answers after a few rings, sounding half-asleep but entirely too eager to hear about your predicament. After a quick explanation, she promises to be there in a few minutes.

When Ryujin arrives, she takes one look at the situation and bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, I knew you two couldn’t handle this on your own.”

“Not helping, Ryujin,” Beomgyu grumbles, though there’s a smile on his face.

Together, the three of you somehow manage to get Soobin back to his place, collapsing into a heap of laughter and exhaustion once he’s safely on his bed. By then, the humor of the situation has fully set in, and you’re all giggling uncontrollably, the night’s events replaying in your minds.

Finally, when the laughter dies down, Ryujin nudges you playfully. “So, what was that about Soobin confessing his high school crush?”

Your cheeks flush, and you try to deflect, but Ryujin is relentless, teasing you mercilessly as Beomgyu joins in. It’s all in good fun, though, and you can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you’ve missed more than you realized.

Eventually, the night winds down, and you all head home, leaving Soobin to sleep off his hangover. As you climb into bed, you can’t help but replay the night’s events in your mind, the memory of Soobin’s confession lingering in your thoughts.

It’s been a long time since you felt this way, and despite everything that’s happened, you can’t help but wonder what the future might hold.

You wake up to a dull throb in your head, the remnants of last night's drinks still pulsing behind your temples. Your room is far too bright, and you curse yourself for not closing the curtains before collapsing into bed.

You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s already late morning, far later than you usually sleep, but considering the amount you drank last night, it’s a miracle you’re awake at all. Groggily, you swing your legs out of bed and stand, feeling the slight wobble in your knees as your body adjusts to being upright.

The house is quiet as you pad downstairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under your weight. The smell of coffee hits you as you enter the kitchen, and you sigh in relief. Your parents must already be up. Sure enough, you find a pot of freshly brewed coffee on the counter, a few mugs stacked neatly beside it. You pour yourself a cup, cradling it between your hands as you savor the warmth seeping into your skin.

After a few sips, you feel more human, the caffeine doing its job. Now that you’re awake and somewhat functional, you start rifling through the fridge and pantry, searching for the ingredients you need. You’ve made hangover soup enough times to know the recipe by heart, and it isn’t long before you have everything laid out on the counter.

As the soup simmers on the stove, filling the kitchen with its comforting aroma, you smile to yourself. Soobin is in for a rude awakening, but you know he’ll appreciate it in the end. With that thought in mind, you grab a spoon and taste the broth, nodding in satisfaction at the flavor.

Once the soup is done, you ladle it into a bowl, then take a deep breath and head to the house across from your own, belonging to the Choi’s. You knock lightly on the door at first, then a bit louder when you don’t hear any response. A moment later, Soobin’s mom opens the door, a surprised smile on her face.

“Y/N! What a lovely surprise,” she says warmly, stepping aside to let you in. “I didn’t expect to see you this early. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, Mrs. Choi,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m okay, just a little hungover. I figured Soobin might need this more than I do, though.”

She glances down at the bowl in your hands and chuckles. “Hangover soup? You’re such a thoughtful girl. He’s still asleep, of course, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

You step inside, the familiar scent of the house comforting in a way that makes you feel instantly at ease. “I’m going to wake him up now,” you say, feeling a little mischievous. “He’s had enough sleep.”

“Good luck with that,” Mrs. Choi says with a knowing smile. “He can be a bit grumpy in the mornings, especially after a night out.”

You grin. “I’m counting on it.”

Heading upstairs, you push open Soobin’s bedroom door with your hip, balancing the bowl in one hand. The room is dark, the curtains drawn tightly shut, and Soobin is sprawled out on his bed, completely dead to the world. He’s lying on his stomach, one arm dangling off the side of the bed, his hair a tousled mess. 

You set the bowl down on his nightstand, taking a moment to appreciate how peaceful he looks when he’s sleeping. But only a moment. You can’t resist. Reaching out, you grab his pillow and whack him over the head with it—not too hard, but enough to jolt him awake.

He groans, a low sound of protest, but doesn’t move. So you hit him again, a little harder this time, just for good measure.

“Soobin, get up!” you say, your voice tinged with amusement. “I made you breakfast.”

He mumbles something incoherent, burying his face deeper into the pillow. You roll your eyes, leaning down to speak directly into his ear.

“Choi Soobin, if you don’t get up right now, I’m going to eat all this soup myself.”

That seems to do the trick. He slowly lifts his head, squinting at you through bleary eyes. “Y/N? What… what time is it?”

“Time for you to wake up and eat,” you reply, smirking. “Come on, I’ve got hangover soup ready. You need it.”

Soobin groans again but finally drags himself into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. He looks terrible—pale, with dark circles under his eyes, his hair sticking up in all directions—but you have to admit, there’s something endearing about seeing him like this. Vulnerable, almost.

“Ugh, my head is killing me,” he mutters, wincing as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you drink like a fish,” you tease, forcing him up and down the stairs. 

Once seated at the table, you pour him a bowl of soup before placing it down in front of him. “Here, this will help.”

He takes the bowl from you, staring down at it like it’s a lifeline. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, his voice thick with gratitude.

“I know,” you reply with a grin, sitting down in front of him. “Now eat up before it gets cold.”

Soobin takes a tentative sip, then another, his expression softening as the warm broth soothes his hangover. “This is really good,” he mumbles between spoonfuls.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” you say, your tone light but with an undercurrent of truth. You’ve made this soup more times than you can count, for yourself, for friends… for your ex. But you push that thought away before it can take root, focusing instead on Soobin.

As he eats, you chat idly about nothing in particular, keeping the conversation light. Soobin slowly comes back to life, the soup and your presence working their magic. He’s still a bit pale, but at least he’s awake and functional now.

Just as he’s finishing up, you hear footsteps approaching from the hallway, and a moment later, Soobin’s mom pokes her head into the room.

“How’s our patient?” she asks with a smile, looking between the two of you.

“He’s alive,” you reply, grinning at Soobin’s unamused expression. “Barely.”

Another set of footsteps sound in the hall behind as Soobin’s father suddenly appears, his face a mix of surprise and happiness as he spots his son and yourself seated at the kitchen table. Soobin’s mom has moved into the kitchen behind you now, getting started on breakfast.

“Y/N! I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” he says warmly. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mr. Choi,” you reply, returning his smile. “Just thought I’d check on Soobin and make sure he was still alive.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, it’s a good thing you did. He always overdoes it when he goes out with his coworkers.”

“Morning, Dad,” Soobin mumbles, reaching for a piece of toast as his mother immediately sets the plate down on the table.

“Morning, son,” Mr. Choi replies, his tone amused. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” Soobin mutters, shooting you a glare when you snicker. “Don’t think it was much for for Y/N either,” he responds, an amused smirk flashing upon his lips as he swiftly avoids your kick from underneath the table.

As you all start eating breakfast, the conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and light teasing. You’ve always felt comfortable around Soobin’s parents—they’ve known you since you were a kid, after all—and it feels good to be here, surrounded by the warmth of family, even if it’s not your own.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Choi says at one point, turning to you with a curious expression. “How long are you planning to stay in town this time?”

You pause, the question catching you off guard. You haven’t really thought that far ahead, and the uncertainty of your answer weighs heavily on your mind.

“Um, I’m not sure yet,” you reply honestly, forcing a small smile. “I’m just taking things one day at a time.”

Mrs. Choi nods understandingly, reaching out to pat your hand. “That’s perfectly fine, dear. You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

“Thank you,” you say, genuinely touched by her kindness. “That means a lot.”

The conversation shifts after that, and you’re grateful for it. As much as you appreciate the Choi family’s concern, you’re not ready to delve into the reasons behind your return just yet.

As breakfast winds down, Soobin stands up to clear the table, but you’re not about to let him off the hook that easily. When he passes by you with a stack of plates, you subtly stick your foot out, and before he realizes what’s happening, he trips, stumbling forward with a startled yelp.

He catches himself before he falls, but not without glaring at you, his eyes narrowed in mock anger. “Really?”

You flash him an innocent smile. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

His parents watch the exchange with amused smiles, clearly enjoying the banter between the two of you. “Careful, Y/N,” Mr. Choi says with a chuckle. “He might actually get you back for that one.”

You laugh, already stepping out of Soobin’s reach as he finishes clearing the table. “He can try,” you say, still grinning.

Soobin just shakes his head, clearly exasperated, but you can see the fondness in his eyes as he glances at you. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” you retort, dodging under his arm as he reaches out to flick your forehead. 

The rest of the morning passes in a haze of laughter and lighthearted teasing. After breakfast, you help Soobin’s mom with the dishes, the two of you chatting about everything and nothing. Soobin joins in occasionally, but mostly, he just listens from his stance half standing and half supporting his weight on the kitchen counter, still recovering from last night’s blackout.

For a while, it feels like nothing has changed, like you’ve slipped back into the easy life you’ve always had with Soobin and his family. It’s a comforting thought, one that brings a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. And one that allows you to forget about what Soobin said last night, for just a moment.

As you finish up the last of the dishes, you glance over at Soobin, who’s lounging on the couch in the living room, his head resting on the back of the couch, eyes closed.

“You okay over there?” you call out, drying your hands on a dish towel.

He cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy smile. “Yeah, just trying to recover from the abuse you put me through this morning.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re such a drama queen.”

He just grins, not even bothering to argue. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. Maybe he’s right—maybe you do love this, being here with him, with his family. Maybe, just maybe, this is exactly what you needed.

The summer sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet neighborhood. You sit at the kitchen table, absently stirring a cup of tea that’s long since gone cold. The house feels still, too still, as if it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. You’ve managed to avoid any serious conversations with your mom since you returned home, but time has eventually caught up to you. 

Your mom enters the room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She glances at you, then at the untouched tea, her brow furrowing slightly. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lie, offering her a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

She doesn’t buy it. Of course, she doesn’t. She’s your mother, after all. She sighs, crossing the room to sit across from you, her gaze gentle but probing. “You’ve been back for weeks now, and you still haven’t told us what really happened in Seoul. You left so suddenly, without any explanation. Your father and I… we’re worried about you, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, the knot in your throat tightening. You knew this was coming, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “Mom, I just… I needed a break. Things weren’t going well, and I thought it would be good to come home for a while.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, sensing the evasiveness in your tone. “Not going well? You mean with your job? Or… was it something else?” She pauses, her voice softening further. “Y/N, was it Daehyun?”

The mention of him sends a pang through your chest, but you force yourself to stay composed. “We broke up,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. It’s technically the truth, even if it’s not the whole story.

Your mom’s expression shifts, a mix of concern and confusion crossing her features. “You broke up? Why? I thought you two were serious. You were always talking about him, about how he was the one.”

You look down at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “We were serious. But… things change, Mom. We just weren’t right for each other anymore.”

She shakes her head, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “What do you mean, ‘not right for each other’? Did something happen? Did he do something?”

You shake your head quickly, too quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We just… grew apart, I guess. It happens.”

Your mom’s eyes narrow further, the doubt clear in her gaze. “Grew apart? That doesn’t sound like a reason to just up and leave everything behind. You quit your job, Y/N. You loved that job. You loved your life in Seoul. And now you’re telling me you threw it all away because of some vague ‘growing apart’?”

“Mom, please,” you plead, your voice shaking. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

But she doesn’t relent. “You can’t just run away from your problems, Y/N. If something happened, you need to face it. You need to tell me what’s really going on.”

“I told you, we broke up!” you snap, your patience wearing thin. “I needed to get away, so I came home. That’s it.”

Your mom’s frustration finally boils over. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You broke up, so you threw your entire life away? You’re being ridiculous, Y/N! You had everything going for you—your career, your relationship—and you just walked away without a second thought?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” you yell, the words spilling out before you can stop them. But you can’t take them back now, and the look of shock on your mom’s face only fuels the anger burning inside you. “You don’t understand, Mom. You don’t know what it was like.”

“Then help me understand!” she shouts back, standing up from the table. “You can’t just expect us to sit here and watch you fall apart without knowing why!”

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. “I didn’t fall apart,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. I’m trying to move on, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“Move on?” she scoffs. “You’re not moving on, Y/N. You’re running away, and you’re dragging us into it with you. You can’t just quit when things get tough. That’s not how life works!”

The dam finally breaks, and the tears spill over, hot and angry. “I was miserable for so long!” you cry, pushing back from the table. “You don’t know what I went through, and you never will because I can’t—” You choke on the words, unable to finish the sentence.

Your mom’s expression softens slightly, but the anger is still there, simmering beneath the surface. “Y/N, whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m your mother. I just want to help you.”

But the anger has taken hold of you now, and you can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I can’t! You’ll never understand what it’s like to have your whole world ripped apart by someone you thought you could trust!”

Her face pales, the realization dawning on her as she finally grasps the gravity of what you’re saying. “Y/N… what did he do to you?”

You can’t answer. The words are stuck in your throat, choking you as the pain of it all comes rushing back. You can’t tell her the truth, can’t bear to see the look of pity and disappointment in her eyes.

Without another word, you turn and bolt for the door, the need to escape overwhelming. You can hear your mom calling after you, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. You burst out of the house, tears blurring your vision as you run down the driveway.

And that’s when you run straight into someone, nearly knocking them over. You stumble back, wiping at your eyes to see who it is.

Soobin stands there, his expression a mix of shock and concern. He’s holding a small basket, likely something his mom sent him over with, but he’s clearly forgotten all about it as he stares at you.

“Y/N? What happened?” he asks, his voice soft, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he speaks too loudly.

You shake your head, trying to brush past him, but he gently grabs your arm, stopping you. “Wait, just… slow down. Talk to me.”

You can’t. You can’t talk to him, can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re going to fall apart. But the gentleness in his voice, the warmth in his touch, it’s too much. You can’t hold it in any longer.

You sprint down the street, the sound of your mother’s angry words still echoing in your ears. Your vision blurs with tears as you race toward the park, the one that sits just at the edge of the neighborhood where you spent so many summers playing with Beomgyu, Soobin, and Ryujin. It feels like you’re running from more than just the fight—like you’re running from everything you’ve been trying to hold together since you came back home.

The park is quiet, almost eerily so. The swings sway gently in the evening breeze, the only movement in the otherwise still space. You stumble to a stop by the playground, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you collapse onto the sidewalk, your legs unable to carry you any farther. Hugging your knees to your chest, you finally let the tears fall, your sobs quiet but intense, the weight of everything you’ve been bottling up crashing down on you all at once.

You don’t hear him approaching, but you sense Soobin before you see him, the sound of his hurried footsteps catching your attention. He’s out of breath, clearly having run after you the moment you bolted from the house. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stops a few feet away, his eyes searching your face with a mix of concern and sadness.

“Y/N…” he starts softly, taking a cautious step closer. “Come on… What happened back there?”

You don’t answer right away, too overwhelmed to speak. But Soobin doesn’t push. He just sinks down onto the sidewalk beside you, his presence solid and steady, like a lifeline you didn’t know you needed. The silence between you stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s like he’s giving you the space to find your words, to figure out what to say.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you take a shaky breath and start talking. “I left because of him,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “My boyfriend… my ex. He cheated on me.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with pain and betrayal. You can feel Soobin tense beside you, his hands curling into fists on his knees. But he stays quiet, letting you continue at your own pace.

“I found out a few months ago,” you say, your voice trembling as the memories flood back. “He’d been seeing someone else for weeks, maybe longer. I don’t even know how long it was going on. I just… I couldn’t stay after that. I couldn’t be around him, or our friends, or… or anything that reminded me of him. So, I left.”

The tears come harder now, spilling down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the images of him with someone else, the lies he told you, the way everything fell apart so quickly. “I quit my job because I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t do anything without thinking about him, about what he did. I felt like I was drowning, and I didn’t know how to keep going. I didn’t sleep or eat for days at a time. I wasn’t taking care of myself and… well it was either this or me going completely under. So, I ran away. I thought if I came back here, if I was with my family, I could start over. But it’s not that simple. It’s never that simple.”

Your voice cracks, the weight of everything you’ve been carrying finally too much to bear. You can’t hold it together anymore. The sobs wrack your body, and you bury your face in your hands, feeling utterly broken.

Soobin doesn’t say anything, but you feel his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close. He holds you tightly, his grip firm and reassuring as he lets you cry into his chest. His other hand rubs soothing circles on your back, his touch gentle but grounding, like he’s trying to anchor you to the present, to keep you from getting lost in the storm of your emotions.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he says quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “None of this is your fault, Y/N. You did what you had to do to survive. Don’t ever feel ashamed of that.”

You want to believe him, want to take comfort in his words, but it’s hard. The pain is still so raw, so overwhelming. But being here with Soobin, feeling his warmth, his steady presence, it helps. It makes the hurt just a little more bearable.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words barely making it past your lips.

“What are you sorry for?” Soobin asks, his tone soft and confused.

“For everything,” you say, your voice shaking. “For not telling anyone, for shutting everyone out. For being so weak. I just didn’t want to be looked at like that girl anymore. I don’t think I can take it.”

“Hey,” Soobin says, gently tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You’re not weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through hell, and you’re still standing. That’s not weakness, Y/N. That’s strength.”

His words hit you hard, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to dismiss them. He means it—he really believes you’re strong, even when you don’t believe it yourself.

You nod, swallowing hard as you try to calm your breathing, your tears finally slowing. It’s not much, but it’s enough for now. Enough to make you feel a little less alone, a little less like you’re drowning.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning into his embrace, letting yourself take comfort in his presence.

Soobin just squeezes you a little tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m here, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

You stay like that for a while, the two of you sitting on the sidewalk in the quiet park, the world around you fading into the background. For the first time in a long time, you feel like you can breathe again, like the weight on your chest has lifted just a little.

Eventually, you pull back slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. Soobin watches you with that familiar mix of concern and fondness, his eyes soft as he takes in your expression.

“Do you want to go back?” he asks gently, nodding toward the direction of your house. “Or we can stay here for a bit longer if you need more time.”

You glance around the park, the memories of your childhood flooding back in a rush of nostalgia. This place has always been a refuge for you, a place where you felt safe. And now, with Soobin by your side, it still feels that way.

“Maybe just a little longer,” you say quietly, your voice steadier now. “I’m not ready to face her yet.”

He nods in understanding, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, the two of you sit in the fading light, side by side, the comforting silence between you speaking more than words ever could.

The weeks that follow your tearful confession in the park pass in a blur of change and acceptance. You finally muster the courage to tell your family the whole story, no longer holding back the pain and betrayal you’d been carrying alone. Your mother, after her initial shock and anger, softens as she listens to the truth of what happened in Seoul. The harsh words you exchanged that night seem distant now, replaced by an understanding that’s long overdue.

Your father, though quiet during your confession, offers you a comforting hug afterward, his voice filled with warmth as he reassures you that you’re home, and that’s what matters. Beomgyu is the easiest to talk to—his playful teasing makes it easier to break the tension, and soon, you find yourself laughing with him like old times.

Telling Ryujin is harder. You’ve always been able to rely on her, but admitting how broken you felt, even to your best friend, is difficult. But Ryujin listens without judgment, her eyes filled with the fierce loyalty you’ve always admired in her. When you finish, she wraps you in a tight hug and tells you that you’re stronger than you think, and that she’s proud of you for coming home.

As the days turn into weeks, you start to accept that Gwangcheon is where you’re going to be for a while. It’s not Seoul, but there’s a comfort in the familiar streets, the warm smiles of the people you’ve known your whole life, and the gentle pace of small-town living.

With Soobin’s help, and through one of his friends, you land a job at a good company nearby. It’s not the high-powered position you left behind in Seoul, but it’s steady work, and you find yourself gradually falling into a new routine. Your days become a mix of work, spending time with your family, and reconnecting with old friends.

The more time you spend with Soobin, Ryujin, and Beomgyu, the more you start to feel like yourself again. You laugh more easily, the pain of your past starting to dull as the present takes over. You’re still cautious, still a little guarded, but the walls you built around yourself are slowly coming down.

As summer draws to a close, Ryujin suggests a trip to a nearby beach town for a late summer getaway. It’s been a while since you’ve done something spontaneous, and the idea of a weekend away with your closest friends is too tempting to resist.

The four of you—Ryujin, Beomgyu, Soobin, and you—pile into Beomgyu’s car early one Saturday morning, the air filled with excitement as you drive toward the coast. The weather is perfect, the sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky, and the anticipation of a carefree weekend ahead makes everything feel lighter.

When you arrive, the small beach town is bustling with tourists, the streets lined with colorful shops and restaurants. You check into a charming seaside inn, your room offering a stunning view of the ocean. The salty breeze and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore immediately put you at ease.

For the first day, you decide to hit the beach. You slip into a light, flowing sundress with thin straps that tie at your shoulders, the fabric swaying gently in the breeze. It’s a pale yellow, the color brightening your complexion.

The four of you spend the day lounging on the sand, swimming in the crystal-clear water, and playing beach volleyball. Beomgyu and Soobin are a hilarious team, their competitive streaks coming out in full force, while you and Ryujin try to keep up, laughing so hard you can barely hit the ball back.

As the sun begins to set, you take a walk along the shoreline with Soobin. The air is cooler now, and you’ve changed into a pair of denim shorts and a loose, sleeveless top that flutters in the breeze. Soobin, in his usual casual style, wears a plain white T-shirt and board shorts. The two of you walk in comfortable silence for a while, the waves gently lapping at your feet.

“I’m glad you came,” Soobin says quietly, breaking the silence. He glances at you, his expression soft in the fading light. “I’ve missed this… missed us hanging out like this.”

“Me too,” you reply, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “It’s nice to just… be. No pressure, no expectations. Just us.”

There’s a pause, and then you both stop walking, turning to face each other. The tension between you has been growing stronger with each passing day, and it’s undeniable now. You notice the way his eyes linger on you, how his hand brushes against yours as you stand there, the space between you shrinking with every breath.

“Soobin…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence. You’re not sure what you want to say—what you need to say.

He looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small smile, he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel your heart racing in your chest.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he says softly, his voice steady and sure. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

The moment is so charged, so full of potential, that it feels like time has stopped. You find yourself leaning into him, drawn to the comfort and warmth he offers, but before anything more can happen, Ryujin’s voice calls out from the distance, breaking the spell.

You both step back, the tension between you still thick in the air, but the moment has passed. You force a smile, trying to shake off the nerves that are buzzing under your skin.

“We should head back,” you say, your voice a little too bright. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Soobin nods, and without another word, the two of you start walking back toward the inn. But even as you rejoin Ryujin and Beomgyu, the electricity between you and Soobin doesn’t fade. Instead, it lingers, a constant undercurrent that makes your heart beat just a little faster every time your eyes meet, every time your hands brush against each other.

That night, after a dinner filled with laughter and more teasing from Beomgyu and Ryujin, you find yourself sitting on the inn’s balcony with Soobin. The others have already gone to bed, exhausted from the day’s activities, but neither of you seems ready to end the night.

The stars are bright in the clear sky, and the sound of the waves is soothing as you sit together, wrapped in a shared blanket to ward off the evening chill. You’re wearing a soft, oversized sweater, and Soobin has a hoodie on, the two of you huddled close for warmth.

For a while, you talk about everything and nothing— jobs, childhood memories, the places they’d like to visit one day. But eventually, the conversation drifts to more personal matters.

“So… what’s next for you?” Soobin asks quietly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Now that you’re settling in, do you have any plans?”

You hesitate, not because you don’t know the answer, but because you’re afraid to voice it. “I’m not sure,” you admit. “I’ve been thinking about staying in Gwangcheon for a while, maybe longer than I originally planned. It’s… it’s starting to feel like home again.”

Soobin smiles at that, a warmth spreading through you at the sight. “I’m glad,” he says. “It’s good to have you back, Y/N. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you reply softly, your heart swelling with emotion. There’s so much more you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath under your cheek.

Soobin’s hand finds yours under the blanket, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that feels both familiar and new. The touch is comforting, grounding you in the moment. You sit like that for a long time, neither of you saying anything, just content to be close.

But as the night wears on, the tension between you becomes harder to ignore. Every time you shift slightly, your legs brushing against his, it feels like a spark of electricity zips through you. The quiet, intimate atmosphere only amplifies the connection that’s been building for weeks, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels it too.

Finally, you turn your head to look up at him, finding him already gazing down at you. The intensity in his eyes takes your breath away, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach as you tilt your face up, waiting…

But just when it feels like something monumental is about to happen, Soobin pulls back slightly, his expression conflicted. He lets out a slow breath, breaking the moment. “We should get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice husky.

You’re disappointed, but also relieved. You may have felt something for Soobin during your youth, but you had not expected any sort of remaining spark between the two of you upon moving back. It’s a mixture of conflicting feelings: comfort, fear, desire, and enough more to dizzy you.

But even as you part for the night, there’s an unspoken understanding between you— that this moment isn’t an ending but rather just a momentary pause.

The next morning, the four of you wake early to catch the sunrise on the beach. The air is crisp and cool, the sky painted in hues of pink and gold as the sun peeks over the horizon. You feel a sense of peace, standing there with your closest friends, the tension from the night before easing into something more hopeful.

As you pack up and head home later that day, you can’t help but feel like this trip was a turning point. For the first time in a long time, you’re looking forward to the future. And though you don’t know exactly where things with Soobin will go, you feel both compelled and terrified to find out. 

The weeks after your beach getaway with Soobin, Ryujin, and Beomgyu pass in a blur of cozy evenings and lingering touches. The tension between you and Soobin has become almost palpable, an undercurrent that hums beneath every interaction. You find yourself gravitating toward him, seeking out his presence in ways that feel both natural and inevitable.

It starts with late-night talks, the two of you sitting on the porch of your house or his, wrapped in blankets as the night air grows cooler. The conversations are deep, touching on everything from your childhood dreams to the fears that keep you up at night. Soobin listens with a quiet intensity that makes you feel heard in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Sometimes, when the conversation drifts to a comfortable lull, his hand will find yours, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin, and the simple touch sends shivers down your spine.

As fall begins to creep in, the annual town festival is the talk of Gwangcheon. It’s a tradition that dates back decades, a celebration of the harvest season with food stalls, games, and music that bring the whole town together. Despite Soobin’s protests about it being the “same old thing every year,” you manage to drag him along with you, promising that it will be fun.

“You say that every year,” Soobin grumbles as you walk through the festival grounds, his hand intertwined with yours. The evening air is crisp, carrying the scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider. “But it’s just a bunch of food stalls and cheesy games.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “You’re such a grouch. Admit it, you secretly love this stuff.”

He huffs, but you catch the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Maybe I just like watching you get excited about it.”

You smile, your heart warming at the admission. The truth is, you do love the festival, not just for the nostalgia it brings but because it feels like a part of your roots—a reminder of the simpler times before everything got so complicated.

The festival is in full swing by the time you arrive. Strings of warm, twinkling lights hang overhead, and the sound of laughter and music fills the air. You and Soobin wander through the crowded streets, stopping at various stalls to sample local treats and play a few games. You end up with a small plush bear from a ring toss game, a prize that Soobin wins for you after several failed attempts.

“See? Told you this would be fun,” you say, beaming as you hug the bear to your chest.

Soobin just shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches you. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no bite in his words.

As the night goes on, you run into Beomgyu and Ryujin near the center of the festival grounds, where a makeshift dance floor has been set up. The four of you spend some time chatting and catching up, reminiscing about past festivals and sharing updates on each other’s lives. The atmosphere is light and joyful, a perfect escape from the weight of everything else.

At one point, Ryujin drags you into a dance, the two of you twirling and laughing while Soobin and Beomgyu look on in amusement. It feels good to let go, to simply enjoy the moment without any worries.

Eventually, you and Soobin find yourselves walking hand in hand again, wandering away from the crowd to a quieter part of the festival. The lights are dimmer here, the sounds of the festivities fading into the background. You can feel the warmth of his hand in yours, the closeness between you more pronounced than ever.

“So… what’s the verdict?” you ask, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “Still think the festival’s boring?”

He looks down at you, his gaze softening. “Maybe it’s not so bad,” he concedes, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of your hand. “But only because you’re here.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the tension between you thickening as you come to a stop. The moment feels charged, like something is about to happen, and you find yourself leaning in closer, your breath hitching as his eyes flicker to your lips.

But before either of you can move, a voice interrupts the moment, shattering the intimacy between you.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name, spoken in that familiar, deep voice, makes you freeze. You turn slowly, your heart dropping into your stomach as you see him—your ex-boyfriend, standing just a few feet away.

He looks almost the same as he did the last time you saw him, tall and handsome with that same confident aura that used to draw you in. But now, all you feel is a cold dread pooling in your chest.

“Daehyun…” you breathe, barely able to get the word out.

His eyes flick from you to Soobin, who is still holding your hand, his expression hardening as he takes in the sight. There’s a tense silence, the air between the three of you crackling with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

“So, this is why you left Seoul?” Daehyun’s voice is sharp, accusatory, as he steps closer. “To play house in some small town with your high school friend?”

Soobin stiffens beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. “Watch it,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous.

But Daehyun ignores him, his gaze fixed on you. “I thought we were going to work things out, Y/N. But instead, you just… ran away?”

You feel a pang of guilt, the old wounds reopening at his words. But then you remember why you left in the first place—the lies, the betrayal, the hurt he caused you. The memories flood back, and with them, a surge of anger and resolve.

“I didn’t run away, Daehyun,” you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “I left because you fucking cheated on me! Last time I checked, you didn’t want me anyway. Why are you even here?”

Daehyun’s expression falters, the confidence slipping for a moment. But then he scoffs, shaking his head and entirely avoiding your question. “You’re really going to throw away everything we had for… this?”

Before you can respond, Soobin steps in front of you, blocking Daehyun’s view. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation,” he says, his tone firm. “So why don’t you leave her alone?”

Before you can respond, Beomgyu and Ryujin arrive, their expressions shifting from carefree to protective in an instant as they assess the situation.

“Is there a problem here?” Beomgyu’s tone is light but laced with an underlying threat as he steps up beside Soobin, crossing his arms over his chest. Ryujin moves to your other side, her presence a comforting shield as she glares at Daehyun.

Daehyun scoffs, turning his attention back to you. “You’re really going to let them speak for you now? Is this what you’ve become?”

“Leave her alone, Daehyun,” Ryujin snaps, her eyes blazing with anger. “You’re not welcome here.”

For a moment, Daehyun looks like he might argue, but the combined glares of Soobin, Beomgyu, and Ryujin seem to weigh on him. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath, and reluctantly takes a step back. “This isn’t worth it,” he mumbles, his gaze flickering to Soobin. “Have fun Y/N.”

With that, he finally turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving a suffocating tension in his wake. 

As soon as Daehyun is out of sight, the energy shifts. The air feels heavy, charged with everything left unsaid between you and Soobin. He stands there, his hand still resting on your shoulder, but the warmth that once comforted you now feels like a burning reminder of the distance that’s crept between you in just a few short moments.

You search his face for some kind of reassurance, something to tell you that everything is okay between you. But all you find is a flicker of something—regret, maybe?—in his eyes before he steps back, dropping his hand to his side.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice barely audible above the festival noise. He’s looking anywhere but at you, his usual confidence and ease replaced by a discomfort that twists painfully in your chest.

“Wait, Soobin, you don’t have to—” you start, reaching out to stop him, but he’s already shaking his head, taking another step back.

“I need to go,” he mutters, the words clipped and hurried. “I’ll… I’ll see you around.”

And with that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with your hand half-raised, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat. You watch his retreating figure, your heart pounding in your ears as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

When he disappears from sight, the weight of it all crashes down on you. Your knees feel weak, and you stumble to the nearest bench, dropping onto it as the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over. You bury your face in your hands, the sobs wracking your body as the emotions you’ve been trying so hard to keep in check burst free.

You’re so caught up in your grief that you don’t notice Ryujin and Beomgyu returning until Ryujin’s voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts.

“Y/N?” Ryujin’s voice is laced with concern as she kneels beside you, her hand rubbing gentle circles on your back.

Beomgyu stands awkwardly to the side, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a worried frown. “Y/N, you don’t have to cry over him,” he says, trying to sound comforting. “Daehyun’s not worth it.”

You shake your head, unable to find the words to correct them. They think you’re crying because of Daehyun, that seeing him brought all the pain of your breakup to the surface. But it’s not Daehyun you’re crying over—it’s Soobin. It’s the way he looked at you like he couldn’t bear to be near you, like something had shifted irreparably between you, and the way he just left without a second glance, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

But how can you explain that to them when you’re just now understanding it yourself? 

The realization hits you like a truck and you suddenly jump up, slightly unsteadily on your feet. But it’s not really a realization after all. It’s something you’ve known deep down for a while. Forever, it feels like.

The world feels like it’s spinning, your thoughts tangled in a whirlwind of panic and desperation. You can barely hear Ryujin and Beomgyu’s voices through the haze of your own mind, their concerned words just background noise to the single, overwhelming thought that suddenly consumes you.

You need to find Soobin.

The tears are still streaming down your face, but you don’t care. The only thing that matters right now is reaching him, before this suffocating tension between you turns into an unbearable distance.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Ryujin calls after you, but you’re already running, your heart pounding in time with your frantic footsteps. 

You don’t answer her, your feet moving faster than your thoughts. You’re driven by pure instinct, by the gnawing need to fix this before it’s too late. Before you lose him.

His house isn’t far—it never has been—and it’s that familiarity that drives you faster. The image of his retreating back is burned into your mind, propelling you forward through the dimly lit streets of the neighborhood. The sound of your breath is loud in your ears, mingling with the rapid beat of your heart as you round the final corner and see his house come into view.

His house is dark except for the porch light, and a flicker of doubt crosses your mind. What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he won’t even open the door? But you can’t stop now, not when you’re so close. You run up to the door, and without hesitation, you start banging on it with all your strength.

“Soobin!” Your voice cracks as you call out his name, your fists pounding against the wood, the desperation in your voice echoing through the quiet night. “Soobin, please, open the door!”

For a moment, nothing happens, and your heart sinks with each second that passes. But then, you hear the sound of footsteps inside, followed by the slow creak of the door opening.

When Soobin’s face comes into view, your breath catches in your throat. He looks surprised, his hair slightly disheveled, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. His gaze immediately locks onto your tear-streaked face, and the shock deepens.

“Y/N?” He frowns, his eyes flicking over your smudged makeup and tear-stained cheeks. “What are you—are you okay? Did… did he do something else? I thought he left.”

His voice is soft, laced with worry, and the way he’s looking at you—like you’re fragile, like you might break at any moment—only makes the tears well up in your eyes again. But it’s not because of Daehyun. It’s because of him.

You shake your head, trying to find the words, but they all come out in a frantic rush, jumbled together with your raw emotions. “No, it’s not—it’s not Daehyun, Soobin. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your words, but you don’t give him a chance to respond. The words pour out of you, all the things you’ve been holding back for so long, spilling over in your desperation to make him understand.

“I don’t care about Daehyun,” you continue, your voice trembling with the force of your feelings. “I never did, not the way I care about you. I dated him because I was trying to get away from these feelings, because I was scared of how much I liked you, because I thought… I thought maybe if I was with someone else, it would go away. But it didn’t. I just made everything worse.”

Soobin’s expression shifts from confusion to something softer, something that almost breaks your heart all over again. He opens his mouth to say something, but you’re not done yet.

“I thought I could just… run away from it, from you, by moving to Seoul, by throwing myself into a relationship that I didn’t even really want, but it was all a lie. Everything with Daehyun was just a distraction, a way to pretend like I didn’t want to be with you. But I did. I do.” You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you finally say the words that have been eating away at you for so long. “Soobin, I like you. I like you so much it hurts, and I’ve been pretending that I don’t for so long that I almost convinced myself it was true.”

There’s a silence that follows your confession, the kind that feels like it stretches on for an eternity. You can’t bear to look at him, to see the rejection you’re sure is coming, but you can’t look away either. 

Soobin doesn’t speak right away, his eyes searching your face, and you wonder if you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. The silence between you is thick with tension, every second that passes weighing heavily on your chest.

Finally, he reaches out, his hand hesitating just inches from your cheek. When he finally cups your face, his touch is so gentle that it sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb brushes away a stray tear, and when he speaks, his voice is soft, almost disbelieving. “You… like me?”

You nod, unable to find your voice, your heart beating so loudly that you’re sure he can hear it.

For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and you brace yourself for the worst. But then, slowly, a small, almost tentative smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“You idiot,” he murmurs, his tone affectionate, even as his words make your breath hitch. “You really thought I wouldn’t feel the same?”

Before you can even process what he’s saying, he’s pulling you inside, the door shutting behind you with a quiet click. The next thing you know, his hands are framing your face, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart stutter.

Then, without another word, he’s kissing you, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. The kiss is desperate, hungry, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have. His lips move against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer, as if he can’t get enough.

You respond with equal intensity, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you. Every pent-up emotion, every unspoken word, every lingering touch that you’ve shared over the years is poured into this kiss, and it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

His hands slide down to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepens the kiss, his lips and tongue exploring yours with a desperation that mirrors your own. It’s like everything else fades away—Daehyun, the fight with your mom, all the pain and confusion you’ve been carrying with you. All that matters is Soobin, his touch, his warmth, the way he’s holding you like you’re the most important thing in the world.

Soobin doesn't waste any time. His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together as he pulls you deeper into the house, the intensity between you building with every step. His other hand never leaves your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounds in your chest as he leads you through the familiar hallway, your breaths coming faster with each second. The anticipation crackles between you, a living thing that makes your skin tingle and your pulse race. His grip on your hand tightens when you reach his room, and without breaking the kiss, he pushes the door open, guiding you inside.

The moment the door shuts behind you, his lips are on yours again, more desperate this time, as if he can't bear to be apart from you for even a second. He walks you backward toward the bed, his hands sliding from your waist up to your shoulders, then back down to your hips, pulling you closer until you're pressed against him.

Your back hits the edge of the bed, and he nudges you down onto it, his hands cupping your face as he hovers over you. His kiss is relentless, stealing your breath away as he leans in closer, his body pressing against yours with just enough weight to make you feel grounded in this moment.

You respond eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you arch up into him. Every touch, every kiss, is like a spark of electricity, igniting something deep within you. His lips trail down to your jaw, then to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he presses soft, lingering kisses there. Each touch makes you melt further into the bed, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the solid muscle beneath your fingertips.

Soobin's breath hitches as you slide your hands up under his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his toned body. He pulls back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before his lips find yours again, his kiss more heated, more urgent than before. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your toes curl, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of you as if he's been waiting for this moment forever.

You lose yourself in him, in the way he touches you, the way he whispers your name against your lips like a prayer. The world outside his room fades away until it's just the two of you, tangled together in a mess of sheets and emotions. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a confession, an unspoken promise that this is just the beginning of something more.

“No more running,” he murmurs against the crown of your head, breathing in your scent he only could dream of being able to fully take in.

A smile curves its way onto your lips and you smile against his gentle touch, nodding as though there was not a single better thing he could suggest. Because there is nothing you would rather do than stay right here, the very place where a piece of you has always been and where you’ve always belonged.

thank you for reading! <3

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I LOVED THIS STORY! I’m a little sad it has ended, but I throughly enjoyed reading it as it came out. Every Monday I was excited to read this, and excited to know what happens next. I loved how you added realistic elements of their relationship and that they worked on their communication. I can’t wait to see what you write next!

Interlude | MYG | Series Masterlist

[Main Masterlist] [Membership]

Pair: Idol!Yoongi x Deaf!reader

Summary: All Yoongi wanted was to use the last few months before enlisting to work on his solo projects, prepare for his tour. When the silence left around him as his members started to go one by one got too loud, he needed to find something else to fill in the void. But Yoongi would never have guessed that it would come in the form of you… Someone he would never expect to fall in love with.

Genre: Series, fluff, angst, smut, idol au.

Warnings: 1. In this story, the main love interest is a deaf woman. While writing this series I have done extensive research so that I could bring this story to light in the most respectful, gentle and loving way possible. Having that said, I am not part of this community myself, so if you are, or someone you know is, and if there’s anything you see throughout this story that is misleading, offensive or simply wrong, in any way, please let me know and I will fix it right away! I’m hoping this story can be inspiring and inclusive, it’s something different from others I have done before. 2. I am still calling this a “Y/N” story and not OC, because other than this, no other characteristics are being used (skin color, eyes, hair, etc). So I ask that you please let go of that mentality that if the character has any kind of special feature that isn’t yours, then it shouldn’t be a ‘YN’ story. It would be impossible to write anything that would be interesting and relatable, if I’m not able to give these characters some characteristics that make them unique. 3. While writing this, I do describe sign language, and I am aware that American Sign Language (ASL) is different from Korean Sign Language (KSL). I tried using KSL as much as I could (this story is based in Seoul, as it’s where BTS/Yoongi live), but I couldn’t find everything I needed by google searching and had to mix ASL as well. So please take the descriptions with a grain of salt. 4. I am not a doctor, so even though I did a lot of research to write this, information about certain procedures, conditions and health issues might be incorrect.

Update: Every monday.

Taglist: Open.

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One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven - Finale

More coming soon...

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I loved this series! Just something about historical/period pieces that always gets me. This was such a nice way to tie everything off, we got to see all the relationships flourish a little more in the end

TWTHH Bonus: The Little Lotus Blooms

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: This takes place after all of the members' spinoffs. It's probably best for you to finish everything before reading this, but it can also be read if you do not mind spoilers and have no intention of reading the spinoffs.

Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist

"Still stuck on the baby's name, I see," came the familiar voice that never failed to both irritate and amuse your husband. Seonghwa smirked, his hand still gently rubbing your tummy. "And what does that have anything to do with you?"

The dressmaker scoffed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense as he approached. "It has everything to do with me, especially since I'm clearly going to be the godfather of this little one."

You smiled, but before you could respond, the general spoke first. "In your dreams, Kim Hongjoong. You won't be this one's godfather, so it's time to let go of that fantasy. If you're so eager to be a father, I suggest you focus on having one of your own. After all, you're about to have a Mrs. of your own soon enough."

Before Hongjoong could form a coherent response, he sputtered and flailed, completely caught off guard by the mention of his upcoming wedding. His face flushed a deep crimson, and for a moment, he looked utterly lost. After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to find his voice.

"T-that's… none of your business!" he stammered, clearly flustered. After all, it had taken him forever to gather the courage to propose to poor Miss Baek. The lengthy courtship had almost convinced the girl's family that the dressmaker had no real intention of marriage, leading to whispered doubts that he was just stringing their daughter along. He hadn't heard the end of it until the day he finally asked for her hand.

Just as he opened his mouth to shoot back a retort at Seonghwa, another voice broke into the conversation.

"About damn time, Kim!" Yunho called out, his deep laughter filling the room as he approached. The physician looked far too smug, and the gleam of amusement in his eyes only made Hongjoong's face burn brighter. The dressmaker shot him a glare.

"Don't get all cocky just because you got married slightly earlier than I did!" the older male of the two snapped, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "What are you even doing here?! The dinner isn't for hours."

The general and his wife shared a knowing look, unable to stifle their chuckles as the doctor raised a brow at the accusation.

"I could ask you the same," Yunho replied, unfazed. He gestured to the bags of medical supplies at his feet. "I'm here to ensure the mistress is in optimal condition before meeting everyone, of course."

Hongjoong sniffed, waving a dismissive hand before gesturing to the garments draped over his arm—a collection of beautifully embroidered hanboks. "And I'm here to ensure she looks as stunning as always. Just as important as you, Jung. Don't flatter yourself. I understand good health is essential," he added, glancing the taller man up and down pointedly. "But clearly, a complete lack of fashion sense can be just as problematic."

Yunho's eyes widened in sheer offence. "Excuse me? What do you mean, a lack of fashion sense?! My wife said I looked—"

The dressmaker lifted a hand, silencing him immediately. "Of course she did, my friend. She's your wife; she has to say that. But I'm not, so I can be brutally honest."

Yunho's mouth opened, then closed again, clearly affronted. "You—"

"Don't take it too personally," Seonghwa interjected, his smirk deepening as he rested a protective hand over your belly. "You know how he is. The moment there's even a whiff of competition, he'll immediately declare himself the best at whatever it is."

"Which is everything," Hongjoong sniffed, lifting his chin proudly.

"That's debatable," the general drawled with a pointed look.

Hongjoong's mouth opened, ready with a comeback, but the doctor raised a hand to cut him off, the irritation from earlier melting into weary acceptance. "Alright, alright, let's get back to why I'm actually here—to make sure our dear Lady Park and the baby are doing well."

The dressmaker rolled his eyes dramatically, waving Yunho off with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Fine, do your little check-up. But once you're done, it's my turn. I have real work to attend to—unlike some people who just poke needles into others all day."

Yunho sighed, dragging a hand down his face in feigned exasperation, while Seonghwa and you exchanged amused looks. They were always like this—bickering, teasing, and turning even the simplest interactions into a spectacle of humour and banter.

You smiled softly. Thinking back to when you first met them all, you never could have imagined that your husband's closest friends would become yours too, filling your life with such unexpected warmth.

Jongho sighed heavily as he stepped into the room, his gaze zeroing in on the dressmaker with a look of pure exasperation. "I swear, there can never be peace with you around. I told you to come an hour later, but you never listen—"

Hongjoong immediately raised a fist, eyes narrowing in mock indignation. "Watch your tone! I'm still older than you," he warned, but the assistant only rolled his eyes, unfazed as he reached out and unceremoniously grabbed the dressmaker by the sleeve.

"And if you don't cooperate, I'll tell Miss Baek you were being difficult again."

That instantly shut him up. The effect was almost comical—the once-feisty designer went rigid, then muttered something unintelligible under his breath before letting the younger man drag him out of the room. The rest of you couldn't hold back your laughter, chuckling at how quickly Hongjoong folded at the mere mention of his fiancée. It was a sight that never got old.

"Well," the physician grinned, shaking his head in amusement, "looks like we've finally found his weakness."

The general chuckled, his gaze lingering on the doorway where the two had vanished. "It's not just him. Look at the rest of us," he said, raising a brow knowingly.

You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a smile as Yunho continued his check-up, his touch gentle and practised as he listened for the baby's heartbeat. He looked so different now compared to when you'd first met—less guarded, more at ease. The once-serious physician now wore a relaxed smile as he worked. Miss Ryu truly had softened him, just like Miss Kwon had done for Jongho.

Your heart swelled at the thought. Absentmindedly, you rubbed your belly, glancing up at your husband with a soft expression. "They've all changed, haven't they?" you murmured quietly.

His eyes warmed as they met yours, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. "Yes, they have. Just like I have," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. "All thanks to you."

Warmth spread through your chest, and you shifted your gaze back to Yunho, then to the door where Hongjoong and Jongho had disappeared moments before. A sense of anticipation bubbled within you as you thought of the others you'd be seeing later—San, Mingi, and Wooyoung, who had become like brothers to you, and, of course... Prince Yeosang, your dearest friend.

As you imagined future gatherings, you could already see a bustling and heartwarming scene filled with little ones running around, laughter and shouts echoing through the halls, and these men transforming into doting fathers and playful uncles.

Gosh, you could hardly wait to see it all unfold. The future seemed so bright and full of promise, and you knew, deep in your heart, that it would only get better from here.

"What's got you so deep in thought, my lady?" the dressmaker asked with a gentle smile as he carefully painted the signature flower on your forehead—the perfect final touch, as always.

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Do you think His Highness will come?"

Hongjoong scoffed lightly. "I genuinely have no idea, my lady. He seems awfully busy with his new princess," he remarked, and you nodded, a wide smile blooming on your lips.

"He is, and I'm so happy he's finally found someone."

"Then why does it matter if the prince is here?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone already knows I'm going to be this little one's godfather anyway."

You clicked your tongue playfully, rolling your eyes. "Here we go again. I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

He placed his hands on his hips, feigning offence. "I'm your idiot husband's oldest friend; it only makes sense that I get the title. The rest should just accept it and fall in line."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at his stubbornness. When he finally finished, he stepped back, giving you a once-over before softening, then moved to sit across from you. "You look stunning, my lady."

"Thank you, Joong, for always reminding me of that," you said warmly. "But flattery won't get you anywhere—I've already made up my mind, and it won't be you."

He shot up from his seat, gasping dramatically. "What do you mean it won't be me?! You can't do this to me!"

Before you could respond, the doors to the House of Lotus swung open, and your husband entered. This time, however, he wasn't alone. In his arms, nestled close and bundled in delicate silks, was a little something—or rather, someone—very dear to your heart.

"That's enough, Kim Hongjoong," Seonghwa drawled, his voice tinged with mock annoyance as he stepped forward. "How greedy can you be, huh? You're already Yeonjoo's godfather. I'm not giving you the title again for our next child."

Your heart swelled at the sight—the way it always did whenever you saw your little princess cradled in her father's loving embrace. Her soft giggles filled the room as her tiny fingers curled around his sleeve, and a smile spread across your face. That's right—Hongjoong had been named godfather to your firstborn two years ago. Much to your disappointment, the prince hadn't been able to attend her birth celebration despite his promise, but you understood. He had new priorities and commitments. Still, a small part of you hoped he'd be here this time—for the sake of old memories, and perhaps to provide a sense of closure.

The dressmaker's eyes lit up, and his earlier sulkiness vanished as he nearly skipped forward, excitement radiating off him. "Oh, my little Yeonjoo!" he cooed, his face softening as he reached out to take her carefully from your husband's arms.

"Ugh, fine," he muttered, holding her close and gently stroking her hair as if she were the most delicate thing in the world. "I bet you're just trying to spare my precious Yeonjoo from getting jealous. I suppose one of those other losers can have the honour for the next one," he grumbled, pouting slightly as he gazed down at the little girl.

You chuckled softly at his dramatic tone. Titles aside, it was clear Hongjoong adored your daughter deeply. She looked up at him with wide, shining eyes and a bright smile that could melt even the sternest of hearts, and it was obvious she shared that affection. You watched, warmth flooding your chest, as she patted his cheek clumsily, babbling a string of sweet nonsense that made the man's expression melt into a delighted grin.

"See? Even she agrees," he sniffed proudly, shooting a triumphant look at Seonghwa.

The general rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, but the fondness in his gaze was unmistakable. "Just because my daughter doesn't know better yet doesn't mean I'll indulge you."

"Your appa's just being mean," Hongjoong murmured softly to Yeonjoo, his voice filled with exaggerated sympathy. The little girl giggled, her laughter bright and clear. "But don't worry, sweetheart. You'll always be godfather's number one."

You shook your head, laughter bubbling in your chest as you watched them. "Honestly, Joong, you're going to spoil her rotten."

"Going to?" Seonghwa quirked a brow, looking amused. "He already has." Then he turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening. "But I think our princess deserves to be spoiled a little, don't you?"

You smiled up at him. "Of course. Only the best for our little girl."

"Well, since I won't be the next one's godfather," Hongjoong said, feigning indifference, "who are you going to pick? Don't tell me you're actually considering one of those blockheads."

You exchanged a knowing look with your husband before turning back to the dressmaker, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Maybe. Or maybe I have someone else in mind entirely."

As if on cue, Eunsook, your head maid, appeared at the entrance and offered a respectful bow, her smile warm. Right beside her was Miss Kwon, the ever-diligent maternity expert, who immediately stepped forward, carefully guiding you to your feet.

"The guests have arrived, master and mistress," Eunsook announced softly.

Hongjoong sighed dramatically but complied, reluctantly handing Yeonjoo back to her father. "I suppose I should join the rest of those ruffians then," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the child's cheek before straightening up with a smirk. "See you out there, General and Lady Park."

With one last playful wink, the dressmaker slipped out, leaving the room with a swirl of elegant robes. Your heart fluttered in anticipation, excitement bubbling up within you. You were going to see all your friends again—the people who had become your family over the years.

As Seonghwa cradled your daughter close, his free hand reached for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You glanced up at him, smiling softly, and he returned the look, his gaze brimming with unspoken emotions. Together, you made your way toward the hall.

"You look well, my lady. Did the medication I recommended help with your sleep disturbances?" Royal Physician Ahn asked as she approached, her voice gentle yet laced with the attentiveness of a true healer. It was the first chance she'd had to speak with you after the initial rounds of greetings exchanged. You had grown fond of her since meeting her at the royal banquet, and especially so after Mingi had begun openly courting her. Since then, she'd been a constant presence in your life, whether by her own will or by His Majesty's orders, assisting in your care both during the last birth and your current pregnancy.

You nodded warmly, squeezing her hand in return. "It did, Physician Ahn. It worked like magic. I've been sleeping like a baby lately, all thanks to you."

Her shoulders relaxed visibly, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. You couldn't help the grin that tugged at your lips as you leaned closer, your tone turning mischievous. "Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. Who would have thought Officer Song had it in him to win you over, hm?"

A delicate blush painted her cheeks as she stammered, utterly flustered. But before you could tease her further, a tall shadow loomed beside her, and Mingi stepped in, a broad grin spreading across his face as he slid an arm around his fiancée's shoulders. "Now, now, Lady Park, let's not overwhelm her," he chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection. "You know she's still not used to all the attention."

"I'm simply complimenting your success, Officer Song," you shot back playfully. "It's not every day someone catches the interest of the Royal Physician."

Mingi's grin widened, but before he could respond, another voice interjected, stealing your attention.

"Look at you, Lady Park. It feels like just yesterday we were celebrating little Yeonjoo's birth, and now, here we are again, awaiting another mini Park. You and the general certainly don't waste time, do you?" Scholar Moon's teasing tone cut through the room as she approached, linked arm-in-arm with her husband, Royal Secretary Choi.

You felt your cheeks flame at the comment, especially when San shot his wife a chiding look and squeezed her arm as if to gently rein her in. "Darling, don't embarrass the lady," he murmured softly, though the amusement in his eyes belied his words.

You tried to sputter a reply, mortified, but before you could get a word out, a familiar warmth appeared at your side. Your husband was suddenly there, his presence solid and reassuring, a small, amused smirk playing at his lips. He looked so effortlessly charming, and it made your heart flutter just looking at him.

"Indeed, we don't waste time," he agreed smoothly, his gaze shifting playfully to Scholar Moon. "But perhaps it's time you and San hurry up and have one of your own as well, Scholar Moon."

Her mouth fell open in shock, eyes widening as she spluttered, "I—! We're not—!"

"I don't think we're quite there yet," Secretary Choi intervened gently, though his strained smile hinted at his own embarrassment. His eyes flicked between you and the general before landing back on his wife, whose face was now a bright shade of red.

Stifling a laugh, you nudged Seonghwa lightly. "Behave, Hwa," you murmured, though your grin betrayed your halfhearted scolding.

"But it's true, isn't it?" he persisted with mock innocence, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone knows San's eager to start a family. Why not make it official?" He cast the secretary's wife a pointed look, making her blush deepen to an alarming shade.

"You—!" she started, but before she could finish, a joyful peal of laughter rang out from across the room. You turned your head just in time to see Investigator Jung cradling Yeonjoo in his arms with his partner hovering close beside him with an adoring look on her face as she watched the two of them.

"Yeonjoo certainly knows how to charm everyone, doesn't she?" Miss Han remarked warmly, her gaze softening as she looked up at the little girl. "Just look at her. She's going to be quite the heartbreaker one day."

Wooyoung chuckled, gently bouncing the child and eliciting a delighted squeal from her. "With parents like these two? There's no doubt about it." He glanced over at you and Seonghwa, his playful expression turning sincere. "Congratulations again, General, Lady Park. Your family is truly blessed."

"Thank you, Wooyoung," you replied softly, watching as your daughter gurgled happily in his arms. Your gaze shifted to Miss Han, her presence calm and grounding beside him. "And I hope it's not long before we're congratulating the two of you as well."

She blushed, her eyes darting to Wooyoung, who just laughed, the sound rich and unburdened. "Perhaps soon," he murmured, a hint of promise in his voice. "But for now, let's focus on celebrating you."

It was then that you caught Miss Ryu's gaze from across the room—her smile brightening the moment your eyes met. Now officially Yunho's wife, she looked radiant as ever as she hurried over, her husband trailing behind her with a knowing grin.

"Oh, you're glowing, my lady. I'm convinced this one's a son," she said, her voice lilting with excitement.

The physician chuckled softly beside her. "She's been saying that for months now," he teased, gently squeezing her shoulder.

You shared a hopeful glance with Seonghwa before turning back to her. "Thank you. We've been hoping for a boy too," you admitted, warmth filling your chest at the thought.

Before anyone could say more, Hongjoong sauntered over, his arm loosely wrapped around his fiancée's back. "I'm sure having a son is nice and all," he scoffed lightly, "but are you positive that's why she's glowing?" His gaze turned mischievous as he leaned forward, clearly fishing for compliments.

Miss Baek's eyes widened, and she gave him a small nudge, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Joong, please…"

But the dressmaker, being himself, merely shot her a wink. He cast a playful look at the physician's wife, who raised a brow in challenge. The teasing rivalry between them was no secret, and it extended to their spouses as well.

"If you think it's your makeup skills making her glow, I'm going to have to scientifically explain to you why it's a lot more than just your artificial tools enhancing her appearance," the herbalist shot back with a laugh, her words soft yet precise. Her analytical nature was showing, and it made Yunho's smile grow wider.

Hongjoong's jaw dropped, feigning outrage. "Excuse me? Are you doubting my artistic abilities, Mrs. Jung?"

Just then, Jongho appeared, his hand linked with Miss Kwon's as they joined the growing circle. He rolled his eyes, already looking exasperated. "Please, don't start. I swear, every time you two are in the same room, it turns into a debate."

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head as you glanced around at the gathered group. Yet, despite the lively chatter and warm company, there was still a lingering sense of something—someone—missing. You found yourself scanning the room again, your heart dipping slightly as you realised that perhaps he truly wasn't coming after all. Maybe the promises of friendship had been nothing more than a polite white lie to comfort you back then. Perhaps…

"Apologies for our tardiness! It felt like the entire city decided to celebrate with us today—the crowds made it nearly impossible for our carriage to get through smoothly."

The deep, familiar voice cut through the air, and everyone's heads whipped around in unison. After a moment of stunned silence, they quickly bowed deeply, voices mingling in a respectful murmur.

"These subjects greet Your Highnesses."

Yeosang and his wife exchanged quick, flustered glances before raising their hands to stop the gesture. "Oh no, please! There's no need for such formality," the newly minted fourth princess said warmly. "We're here as friends today."

It was your first time meeting her, but her grace and kindness were immediately apparent, and you found yourself thinking how perfectly she complemented the prince. Your heart, which had felt heavy just moments ago, lightened at the sight of the couple as they stepped forward to join the circle.

The fourth prince's gaze found yours, and he flashed you a familiar, boyish grin. "I hope we haven't missed too much. Please, let the princess and me know how we can make up for our tardiness."

Your smile softened warmly. "Better late than never, Your Highnesses." You glanced at your husband, a sense of peace washing over you as he gave you a gentle, encouraging nod.

"No need to worry," you continued with a welcoming tone. "You haven't missed anything major. After all, the main event can't truly begin without the new baby's godparents present." The royal couple's eyes widened in surprise at your words, while the rest of your friends cheered.

"And you can make up for being late by accepting the role," General Park added with a teasing smile.

And that is all, folks. This is the final chapter and it officially concludes the TWTHH series. It's a bittersweet feeling to end it; it's undoubtedly one of my proudest creations, but I'm also super excited to finally be able to work on newer things!

Once again, I just want to thank each and every one of you for being with me on this journey. I hope this epilogue was decent! Perhaps some of you might not agree with who I've chosen to be little Park's godfather (but my heart wants what it wants lmfao). Y'all, let me know your thoughts! It'd be awesome if you could share a bit about how you stumbled upon this story and what you liked about it! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

---

WOW! This was so good and that ending? Flabbergasted.

Light

angel!mafia seonghwa x chemist!mafia reader

evil man possessed by an angel who falls in love with the evil chemist who is basically a devil au LOL

genres and warnings: angst, suggestive, mafia au, obsession, morally black ppl again, mentions of drugs, human experiments (a few details), violence, blood, themes of corruption and forbidden love, lmk if i missed anything, dni if uncomfortable ^

word count: 32k (oops i did it again)

synopsis: when you summon an angel to enhance the town's drugs, the angel ends up being stuck in seonghwa's body- the mafia boss who supplies the drugs itself. the line between good and evil start to blur, complicated by your feelings for each other which lead you to make some difficult choices.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (she insisted hwa pure evil i said your wish is my command)

Good and evil must coexist in order to survive.

Without evil, there cannot be any good in this world. Evilness creates the need for good. And if there’s only good in the world, there would be no reason or purpose anymore. There must be evil for there to be a desire for goodness. 

Good and evil are the two elements that weigh down the pans of a weighing scale. They hover in the air, tipping up and down endlessly, never balancing because there is always too much evil or too much good at each fraction of time in the world. Perhaps, it is meant to be that way- perhaps, that is the balance this world needs.

Similarly, there is also good and evil coexisting in an individual. Sometimes, there is more good than evil, while other times evil outweighs the good . People can argue if humans are inherently good or evil but it has never mattered- if you live in society, you will learn what is considered good and what is considered evil.

However… sometimes when you look at Park Seonghwa, you wonder if all the foolish rambling about evil being an inherent trait might be true after all. You’ve known him almost all your life and you are convinced that the man does not possess a single good bone in his body.

Again, it was arguable. What is the criteria of being good or what ultimately labels you evil? Perhaps, he is good in an unconventional way- though there’s hardly been evidence of that when all his good intentions have an evil motive. Maybe that was his purpose on earth- to make sure the scale does not tip too much towards good.

A tiny part of you thought that maybe he was the only person holding the burden of that responsibility- but then you would look in the mirror and realise you were no better. You would scoff at the audacity to judge the poor man when you yourself were his equal in every way. Perhaps, you possessed a few morals, but you had always been reprimanded on that. 

You could not be a good human in your field. Not when you were making sure that the society was entangled in the web of your deception- attracted like flies to the things that glittered like gold but were dark at their very core.  Not when you fed the people with the lies of pleasure and they willingly took bait, losing the conscious part of themselves that would ever warn them that maybe this was not a good idea.

Not when you were the devil who was ruling both the underworld and the world from the shadows. 

You did not need to be a good human when you were manufacturing and producing drugs. You just needed to possess a brain that functioned better than the average human, possess a heart that did not function as good as the average human, and finally, stay away from whatever you created. 

Bonus points if you had a little streak of-

“This is insanity, sweetheart.”

That. Insanity. The key ingredient.

“But insanity has always made sense. Especially when it comes from me,” you pointed out and Seonghwa couldn’t help but agree, uncomfortably crossing his legs while sitting on his office chair and contemplating deeply.

“Theoretically, it can work-”

“Theoretically,” Seonghwa reminded you with a pointed glare that was a warning to not get too ahead of yourself. He never failed to assert that he was ultimately the one in control. “Theoretically, anything is possible. But if you really believe that angels exist-”

“I don’t have to believe that they do,” you insisted. “But I have to try.”

You were unsure about this, that was true. Summoning demons for ritual was something common in the underworld, though you had never witnessed it yourself, having heard that it was better to avoid that. You had suppliers, though, claiming that they had stored the ‘essence’ of the demons that they summoned. The essence was a powerful thing and had to be mixed in miniscule quantities in large amounts of the base product for it to work- you learned that the hard way too. It took you years and an uncountable amount of dead test subjects to learn that the human body could not tolerate the essence of a demon unless it was barely there. 

Did you believe that demons exist after all these experimentations? It was still arguable, but the vials of the essence stored safely in your lab was proof that the world was not only home to humans and animals, but other creatures too. You recalled observing exorcisms when you first started studying dark arts, hoping to expand your knowledge and mix the scientific and the supernatural. You once convinced the mafia lord to join you.

That sure did end well. Here you were, seated right in front of that mafia lord, trying to convince him that if humans could successfully extract demonic essence to create the ultimate drugs, they could extract the essence of an angel to create something new too.

It could change the course of this world, if you were right. You had no idea if the essence would work like the demonic one. Maybe it worked similarly, but at least you would have the satisfaction of having tried. There was a chance though that the angelic essence could open new opportunities for your business. And if it had medicinal properties, you could control the capitalistic net too. You could rule the world. 

“Come on,” you insisted, getting up and walking around the table to lean against the surface, bending down just a fraction to meet his eyes. “This could be our salvation, Seonghwa.”

“Or doom,” he challenged, leaning forward while still seated, his fingers going to play with the lapel of your coat. “This could go very, very wrong. I can’t lose my mad scientist now, can I?”

You smirked. “Is that all I mean to you? Mad scientist?”

“You know what they say,” Seonghwa shrugged. “Behind every drug lord is a mad scientist.”

“They don’t say that, but sure,” you scoffed. “Come on. We’ve been partners for years now. Give me some credit, and let me try this. I’ll only try it once, I promise. If it doesn’t work, we let it go.”

Seonghwa considered your proposal- he always let you try stupidly dangerous things at least once, no matter the fear in his heart that he would end up endangering your life. He told himself he did not care for you, but that you were simply someone essential to him and his business. He convinced himself that he had no attachment towards you as someone who grew up with you and survived with you in the darkest period of his life.

And you believed him. That he really did not have any personal attachment towards you. You were just someone useful to him. You always said that you returned the sentiment, but you were more human than him in some ways, and being human meant that you inevitably caught feelings for him. 

Not that you would ever admit that to a soul. They could pin you on the very stretcher you tied your test subjects to, cut you open or drug you but nothing could be capable of extracting that confession out of your mouth.

It didn’t help that the person in question was the Park Seonghwa. He could look like an angel and a demon at the same time, and that was perhaps the worst combination you could have encountered. It was his ability to transform his face into the epitome of innocence that was his weapon. He had bewitched every person that possessed any semblance of power, took advantage of any individual that could be of use to him, whether alive or dead, and climbed his way to the top.

And you had been by his side all along. Partner in every sense, sharing brains and planning schemes in the dead of the night, alone in the woods huddled against each other because you had a single blanket that you managed to grab when you both ran away from the orphanage. He was too busy leading the path to worry about grabbing anything useful, he told you. 

You had been by his side all the years that you spent after, being protected by him when he teamed up with the street gangs and earned for both of you. You helped wherever you could, his little mad scientist from the beginning, experimenting with drugs and burying your nose in books, observing the doctors and surgeons who were expert on cutting up people to extract organs, learning every practical skill you needed to stand on your feet and make Seonghwa proud.

And you did. You made him proud and you made him strong. You cut ties- in the most literal way- with your previous gang and emerged as a strong duo, Seonghwa operating in the light while you worked in the shadows. He kept you close, within an arm’s length. He made sure you had everything you needed- a roof over your head, food in your stomach, a lab for your experiments, and him. 

You were too afraid to ask him if he would treat you the same had you not excelled in this knowledge. You already knew the answer to that. That man possessed no human heart, and the moment you would be useless, he would stab you not in the back but in the front, locking eyes with you and proving that ultimately, it was him in charge. It was why you never risked saying or doing something stupid, because you were content this way.

You were content with the way his fingers travelled up the lapel of your black coat, finding the skin on your chest just below your neck where the shirt stopped him. You were content with the way he traced patterns there as he weighed the pros and cons of trying this damned ritual. Him locking his eyes with you and holding no hint of remorse that was otherwise a permanent expression in his eyes was enough. The squeeze of his fingers around your neck was enough.

And whatever his decision was… it would be enough too.

“Alright. Just once. It should not go wrong, you understand?” 

You failed to stifle your smile, soon grinning and Seonghwa chuckled at the way your eyes so dangerously twinkled. 

“A devil about to summon an angel. Who would’ve thought?”

“Two devils,” you corrected. “You’re coming with me.”

“Oh, no, no,” Seonghwa shook his head adamantly. “I trust you. I’ll send men-”

“No, you need to witness this moment, Seonghwa,” you insisted in all seriousness, your eyes widening just a fraction. “If it’s a success, we will change the world. You need to be there. For me.”

Seonghwa thought he heard just a bit of an underlying threat in there but he chose to ignore it, like he always did. Only you could talk to him in this tone, demand anything- even his life from him. He had already given you all his life, like you had given him all yours. 

He could give you this, too. It made sense- and he really needed to witness this one himself, otherwise if it worked, he was positive he would never believe that they weren’t manipulating facts.

“For you,” Seonghwa nodded. “Make sure it’s safe, and have some human offerings ready in case we need that.”

“I don’t think an angel would be interested, but sure,” you gently pushed his hand that was playing with your hair away. “I’ll have everything ready- we’re doing it exactly a week from now. May the Lord be with us.”

Seonghwa’s cackle roared in the room as you exited. You felt like you were floating in the clouds, now that you had his approval.

You would prove that angels exist, hence proving there was good in this world.

And then you would wonder where the good in your old friend’s heart went.

“More candles?” One of the men helping you with the summoning ritual asked.

You looked around the room before turning your attention back to the book you had borrowed from one of your crew members in charge of collecting demonic essence. He was under the impression that you were trying a different demon summoning ritual, and you intended to keep it that way- not everyone needed to know that it was an angel you would be summoning.

“It’s not a fucking birthday party, those are enough candles,” you said and when Seonghwa snickered under his breath, the man skittered away.

“Someone’s on edge,” Seonghwa elbowed you lightly and you looked at him helplessly.

“I’m just trying to make sure this won’t be unsafe even if it goes wrong. The candles are just for aesthetics.”

“Ah, is that so?” Seonghwa looked around. “And the circle they’re sketching? Will that serve as a cage?”

“The spell and the items I’ll place around the room will serve as the cage, the circle is just a location pointer, you could say,” you explained, shutting the book and taking a deep breath. “I’m going to make a final check. Can you ask everyone to get out of this room and wait?”

“Will you really be here when they summon the angel?” He asked and you nodded. “Do you have to be?”

“Yes, I have to be,” you told him for the umpteenth time, beckoning him to go away. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry. And if anything bad happens… it’s not like you care anyway.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at you and you grinned- you had a habit of making these jabs and he was quite used to that now.

“I’ll keep your word for it,” he promised. “If anything bad happens, don’t expect me to come barging in to save you.”

“Got it,” you sighed, putting on a show of offence. “If I die tonight, it was me who stole your precious diamond ring.”

“I know,” Seonghwa smirked and you stared at him, slack-jawed. He only shook his head and turned away, clapping to get everyone’s attention and asking anyone who wasn’t conducting the ritual to leave the room. 

The room fell silent once again, the hushed voices of the people present inside echoing off the walls. You weren’t sure if the chilly feel to the room was because it was in the basement of an abandoned building in a very remote area, or because of the deed that was about to take place.

You waited until everyone had left before taking your position at the far end of the room. Your partner’s crew members naturally knew what to do as if they had trained for this their whole lives. They set the holy items at the four corners, and then some unholy ones at the other four corners, creating an eight-pointed star. Once you were satisfied, you went to pick a holy sword- the sword you had earned after your contribution to the dark arts, the very sword that had given you the idea of summoning an angel.

You dipped it into the tub near you, collecting wine on its blade, its translucent drops marking the earth with evidence of the forthcoming act. You turned your neck to look at the window, finding Seonghwa and the others- human sacrifices- waiting. Seonghwa shared a nod and you fished out his lighter from the pocket.

Once the sword caught fire, you walked with heavy steps to your final position in the front so the angel would meet your eyes. You put on your shades for caution like the rest of them did, and then you signalled the summoner to begin.

The sound of his spell filled the room- it sounded foreign even to him, considering the way he stumbled upon the words- the words for this spell were different from a demonic spell. The summoner sliced his palm and let his blood taint the etchings on the floor, continuing muttering the spell.

For a moment, you wondered if it was all a waste as seconds ticked by without a movement but a collective gasp sounded across the room when the flames of the candles blazed angrily. You gripped the hilt of the sword tightly, keeping it raised in the air. You tried not to let the fear gripping your heart get to you as the temperature in the room dropped significantly.

When the summoner said the final words of the spell, the final call to have any angel in the vicinity answer him, a strong breeze circulated around the room, blowing out every candle and almost extinguishing the fire on the sword. You gulped to swallow the scream forming in your throat, the sword in your hand the only source of light now. You thought you heard someone knocking at the window but the little glimmer of light in the centre of the circle had caught your attention.

Slowly, the glimmer turned into a blob, which then turned into a shapeless source of light- blinding golden light so bright that it appeared white, harsh enough to make your eyes water even through the shades. You narrowed your eyes to focus but there was too much going on-

Especially the warning song echoing inside you- you knew that it wasn’t coming from you. It was coming from that being and everyone else in the room could hear it too, considering how they started backing away.

“Stand your ground,” you ordered, and the men stilled. Your word was as important as their boss Seonghwa’s, perhaps even more important than their own life. “Make sure the barricade remains intact.”

It was only then you spared yourself a moment to meet Seonghwa’s eyes through the window, who looked astonished, his eyes wide as he tried to comprehend the glorious sight in front of him.

The glorious sight that was now taking the shape of a person, the edges sharpening enough to make out its silhouette yet remaining blurry. It seemed to be a crouched figure, taller than anyone you had ever seen, a cascade of hair covering the entirety of its upper body and anything that was not covered by its folded wings. There was no need for a halo when the being glowed from within, though even if there was one, it was too blindingly bright to make out.

“Which little bird summoned this weary angel? Pray tell, pray tell...”

Oh, you were doomed. 

“Was it the man that connected us with blood? Was it the man that offered me good, or was it the one that chained me with the bad? Pray tell, pray tell…”

The said men were now leaning against the walls, praying to whatever god that had sent his angel here to save them. Save them from what? It was too late-

“Or is it the little bird that holds the key to my freedom?”

Key to freedom? You looked down at the lit sword. You recalled reading something about how such a holy relic could also be used to undo spells and though you had thought the information was insignificant, you were wondering if you needed to undo the spell right now-

“What purpose must I serve to earn my freedom?”

The tone of the angel turned soft, almost beckoning you forward. You weren’t sure if the angel was speaking out loud or if the voice was still inside your head. You dared to take one step closer before you felt a crushing sense of weight on your shoulders.

“It is I who called you,” you managed to say. “I have questions to ask.”

“You called me to satisfy your humane curiosity?”

There was a warning in his soft voice now. A warning that one wrong move would ensure your end. You looked helplessly at Seonghwa who was no longer present at the window and you wondered where he was. You thought you heard the creak of a door open but he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come inside, right?

You contemplated making a deal with the angel, but your tongue fell limp. With demons, you had heard that it was pretty easy when it wasn’t one of the stronger demons. A little deal, some nasty business, ensuring their essence would do damage that they would like, or in rare cases, a price to be paid usually got the work done.

What could you offer the servant of God? What could an angel need?

“Do I really hold the key to your freedom?” You asked, a strange tugging in your mind. The angel lifted its face just a fraction- you still couldn’t make out its features but you could tell that it was staring at you.

“I have a feeling that you do.”

And you had a feeling that this wasn’t about the freedom from this spell anymore. Entranced, you took another step forward, and another, unable to deny the pull. The being was ethereal and you had no chance against it. You had no chance, and you had no choice but to step inside the circle with this sword, damned be the consequences, damned be the very familiar voice shouting at you to stop-

It all happened too quickly to process- you were suddenly and forcefully being pulled away and the angel latched out, the sword falling on the ground with a dreadful clatter that echoed in the air, intermingled with the shrieks of the people present in the room. Your eyes widened when you noticed the tip of the sword within the circle.

This was the end. 

“Get out of here, now!” Seonghwa ordered through gritted teeth in your ear, pulling you away with him and you went along this time, trying to tell him that it was too late, that he shouldn’t have come inside.

He would later wonder why he went inside. Perhaps, the angel himself had called him. Perhaps, he had been attracted to the angel’s pure energy when he was the embodiment of darkness himself. 

And if that was the case, why did the angel choose him as his medium of freedom?

The last thing you saw from the corner of your eye before you lost consciousness, amidst the chaos of the summoning ritual gone wrong, was the angel’s hand latching onto Seonghwa’s back and Seonghwa’s eyes rolling back in his head before he fell, dragging you down with him.

All these years of your life had been dedicated to the mafia boss Seonghwa- your friend, your family, and your everything. Even your worst nightmare.

He was the reason you were alive and not sold off as nothing more than a repository of useful organs. If you ever think back to what your life had been like when you were just a child, barely 10, it was rough. It was dark, and Seonghwa was the only light in your life. No matter how dim that might be. 

Seonghwa always shined. And you were just a moth attracted to his light.

However, you did not expect the man to physically shine. There was a sheen of actual golden light across his skin as his body burned with a fever meant for no human. You had bitten through the majority of your thumb nail while you wracked your brains for a solution- but did you really want one?

All these years, you had put Seonghwa’s ambitions and goals first. He wanted to escape the abusive orphanage and he wanted you to come along- you couldn’t be more grateful. He wanted to mix with the street gangs and provide for you so you could make a breakthrough in science (specifically, drugs) one day- sure, who were you to deny that blessing? He wanted to become the most notorious mafia boss, earn a social repute and keep you by his side, wanting you to help him become a true drug lord- to be the owner of the most unique and sought after drug. That aligned with your personal ambitions, so who were you to say no?

But your actual goal- if you ever had a moment of clarity without Seonghwa clouding your thoughts, it was to make a breakthrough in science- not just drugs. And Seonghwa knew your heart’s deepest desire, which was why he always prevented you from doing so, warning that you couldn’t be in the public eye. If you wanted to make breakthroughs, you could do so in the field of drugs, and limit yourself to the underworld. 

Well, this was what he wanted. Here he was, burning with an inhumane fever, golden ichor dripping from the corner of his eyes that you were sure to collect, already a few vials full. You wondered if this was the essence. And you wondered if the angel really was inside Seonghwa’s body now.

The two of you had lost consciousness when the angel attacked you- thankfully, his loyal servants were quick to take you both back to your hide-out where your lab was located. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself and Seonghwa lying flat on the stretchers. For a moment, fear gripped the entirety of your being before you realised you were just laying down and not tied like one of your test subjects. A sigh of relief later, you turned to find Seonghwa tied, and for all the right reasons. 

Thankfully, your subordinate was someone who could be trusted. He made sure to keep the rest of your staff outside and waited for you to wake up. Now the two of you were almost huddled against each other, fidgeting with your clothes and biting your nails- anything to cope, at this point.

“Do you think he will ever wake up?” Dr. Choi asked, his sharp features softening into worry. “Or will he… burn to death from within?”

“I hope he doesn’t,” you nodded slowly. “If he wakes up and remains alright… he will be my greatest product.”

Dr. Choi San chuckled darkly at that comment. “It will only be your greatest product if you let the world see it.”

“That’s the thing,” you looked at your thumb, finding it smeared with your trademark cherry red lipstick. “I would want to keep him all to myself.”

“What a dilemma, huh?” He shook his head. “Well, I for one don’t want to be present when the demon lord wakes up. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“What if the angel inside him kills me?”

“Well…” Dr. Choi shrugged. “I guess I’ll proceed to take over this institution like you have willed-”

“Not helping,” you glared at him but you both knew that this was a situation you couldn’t do anything about. You were helpless, and your only choice was to wait and hope that Seonghwa would be okay and the angel wouldn’t want to kill you at the first sight.

Another hour must have passed with you waiting endlessly, wiping the sweat off his skin and collecting the tears before he finally opened his eyes, groaning inhumanely and beginning to shiver slightly. You rushed to his side, startled at the sudden shift and poked his side.

“Seonghwa? Is that you?”

“What’s happening to me?” His voice came out strained and before he could ask something else or get your response, his eyes rolled back and he shut them tight, finally settling down and laying limp. Your heart sank and you checked if he was breathing, feeling relieved upon finding that he was. You contemplated untying his wrists and legs but you had to play it safe-

Though you were pretty sure the angel would be able to break free anyway.

When Seonghwa opened his eyes the second time, there was a slight glaze to it as if he was wondering where he was or recalling the events of the previous night. He tried raising his arms but gave up instantly, not even bothering to check why he was unable to do so. You frowned at his unusual behaviour and cautiously called his name again.

“Where am I?”

“My lab? You passed out, remember?” You gently told him. 

“No, where am I?” He looked at you, his eyes scanning your face as if this was the first time he was seeing you. “And who are you?”

You felt your knees go weak and you clutched at his stretcher. “Seonghwa? It’s me, y/n. Don’t you remember?”

Seonghwa tried to raise his arms again but he shut his eyes as he groaned. “Untie me. Now.”

You couldn’t say no to that. You unclasped the belts and he sat up, swaying a bit. You passed him a glass of water and he made a face, setting it aside.

“Why did you call me?”

“I was trying to wake you up-”

“No, why did you call me?” 

This time, his voice sounded inside you and you took a step back, your lower lip trembling at the shift in his demeanour.

“It’s- it’s not you, is it? You’re not Seonghwa?”

“I’m not your rotten excuse of a human, correct.” 

It was the angel inside him speaking. He raised his hands, examining them carefully, finding them rough and calloused. He looked sideways, finding a blurry reflection of himself and shook his head in disappointment.

“Who are you?” You dared to ask.

“You called me,” he said calmly, a dangerous undertone in his voice. “You know exactly who I am. You know my name- do not dare to call me by my name with your filthy human tongue.”

You blinked, narrowing your eyes. “Is an angel allowed to talk like that?”

“Well, I’m human now, aren’t I?” The angel shrugged carelessly, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. “Thanks to you.”

“I’m not the one who asked you to possess him. That wasn’t my idea,” you tried to explain, sweat oozing out of your pores the more his glare turned darker.

“Well, what was your idea, then?” He got up, a bit shaky on his feet as if walking after a long time. That didn’t stop him from invading your personal space and standing right in front of you until you could feel the warmth radiate from his body. His brows furrowed and you thought he looked incredibly sad at that moment. 

“What were you thinking, little bird? Trapping an angel?”

“I-” you clutched at the table behind you, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I only wanted to ask if an angel’s essence could be obtained.”

“For what?”

“Medicinal purposes,” you smoothly lied.

“Well, you have your answer,” the angel looked towards the vials as if having sensed them. “Though I’m sure it will not work. And you won’t be getting any more of my tears. I shall leave this body soon- if only this cursed human would let me-”

“What do you mean?” Your voice came out small, and you hated the effect he had on you. You weren’t sure if it was the angel, or if it was Seonghwa that made you still cower under him.

“I shouldn’t have been able to possess such an evil human,” the angel tilted his head threateningly as he leaned towards you, scanning your face. “You were who I intended to possess. Maybe he had a change of heart and allowed me to take him?”

“He wouldn’t do that,” you muttered. The Park Seonghwa you knew would never risk his life for you. 

Okay, he might, a little. To the point of getting hurt, but not to the point of… this.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m stuck, and I’m unable to get out.”

“Do we need to do another… ritual?”

“Humans,” he spat with such bitterness that you almost wondered if this was Seonghwa himself, testing you. “You should have learned about this properly before you summoned me.”

“Do you know why you’re unable to get out of this body?” You asked. 

The room fell silent, and when a subtle shake of his head told you that he indeed was as clueless as you, you finally relaxed and let a smirk grace your lips.

“Well… it looks like you and I are going to have some fun then… angel.”

~

It didn’t take long for you to convince the angel that you needed to run some tests in order to see if Seonghwa was okay- but you used this excuse to extract some blood, run every test possible, take every scan and monitor his vitals. Hours later, you were still stuck in the lab with him, the smell of food and antiseptics filling the room.

“You have to eat,” you said for perhaps the tenth time. “You’re in a human body, and you will have to live like a human while you’re stuck.”

“I could choose not to eat and let this body die. Maybe that is how I can get out,” the angel considered. You shot him a glare- while the angel wasn’t the considerate creature you thought he would be, his tone was a lot softer than Seonghwa’s ever was. 

“Or maybe that’s how you end up perishing,” you placed a piece of meat on top of his rice bowl. “Food for thought.”

The angel glared at you for a moment and fumbled with the chopsticks until you showed him how to use them. He caught up pretty quickly and picked the piece of meat, sniffing it and frowning. You watched him curiously as he stuck out his tongue to take an experimental lick, and after deciding the taste of the meat wasn’t so bad after all, he finally put it in his mouth and chewed slowly.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate,” he confessed and you urged him to try everything on the table. 

“As an angel… you do not eat, right?”

“We don’t need to eat to live,” he confirmed and you nodded. “Sometimes, we are sent as a human to guide another. At the rare times that we have to play along, we get to experience some humane things- like eating.”

“So… you’re telling me that angels walk among us as humans?” You asked cautiously.

“So do demons, and other creatures that your mind can never comprehend,” he said, taking another bite of the food- at least he seemed to be enjoying this human experience. “Humans think they own this world. They are no more than specks in this infinite cosmos.”

You nodded slowly- you were not going to argue with that. You had felt less than a speck when you saw the angel back in the basement.

“Was that your true form, earlier?” You asked.

“If you ever saw my true form, your eyes and your limbs would burn,” he said casually and you made a mental note of that. “We are not the angels that you read about in your books. Even demons- you have seen them. That is not their true form- we take the shape of what the human eyes and mind can try to comprehend.”

“How do you know that I’ve seen them?”

The angel tapped the side of his- Seonghwa’s head. “I know everything about this human now that I’m in this body.”

“Is he really alive in there?”

“He is. I can’t say for how long,” he finished eating. “He is fighting for dominance. Perhaps, he might be able to take over after some struggle, but I will remain inside until we find a way to let me out.”

“You should know if there’s a prayer or ritual for that, right?” You asked.

“Hmm… let’s see. Would you like for your human to die? For you and your entire group to perish from the face of the Earth?”

“Of course not,” you narrowed your eyes. Was the angel trying to intimidate you, or was he serious?

“Then I suggest we do not tell the world that this poor angel is stuck in a human. May the Lord help us.”

“Your Lord must know, though. Will he help us?” You asked and the angel chuckled darkly.

“We’re just two pieces in his game of chess now.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you got up to clear the table. “Well, it’s late now. I suggest we pause the game and get some sleep then?”

“Sleep is for the humans-”

“And you are a human now,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t care if you sleep or not- just come with me.”

You instructed the angel to keep his mouth shut and let you do the talking. You told Dr. Choi to take care of the scans and with that, you both left for the Park Residence, a mansion in the most elite area of the town. You watched the angel look out of the window with curiosity and a hint of amazement- you couldn’t blame him. The mansion was truly something ethereal, especially from the outside with its white corinthian columns and stained glass windows.

“Someone like this human should have been living in the dungeons,” the angel whispered and you put a finger to your lips, unable to stifle a grin. “He does not deserve this beautiful palace.”

“He earned it through his blood, sweat and my tears. Give him some credit.”

“Who are you to this human?” He asked as you got out of the car. The secretaries welcomed the two of you and you dismissed them for the night.

“Can’t you tell?” You asked, tapping the side of your head like he had earlier.

“I can only see the memories. I cannot comprehend his emotions or feelings.”

“Do you not feel?” You asked, entering the mansion and being welcomed with the subtle warm lighting of the chandelier- dimmed for the nighttime- that reflected on the polished white marble. The subtle veins of gold running through the floor reminded you of the angel’s tears. You glanced at him and he hummed.

“This is a nice house.”

“See? You felt that it’s a nice house,” you pointed out.

“No, I can tell that it is a nice house because I can appreciate its craft,” he walked towards the staircase, fingers softly caressing the golden railing and its sleek curves. 

“So you cannot feel human emotions? Sadness, happiness… love, hatred, anger?”

“And who said those are human emotions?” He asked, leaving you speechless. You followed him upstairs, letting him navigate through the empty corridor- if he had Seonghwa’s memories, he probably knew where to go. 

“Humans possess the same attributes as angels and demons,” the angel explained. “Inherently, these attributes are innocent in nature but as a human lives and learns, they take a shape and become uniquely human. No human is angelic enough, nor demonic enough- though… this one might take the crown for being the most demonic.”

“There are worse humans, trust me. At least this one possesses some morals,” you muttered. 

“And how do you weigh your morals? What is your scale to weigh them, human?” He asked and you shrugged- he was right. You couldn’t be the judge of that when your own morals were skewed.

“Well, you did see some good in me, didn’t you? When you were about to possess me?”

“You were the only good option, do not think of yourself too highly,” he almost reprimanded and your shoulders sagged in disappointment. He looked at you for confirmation before reaching the last room at the left section of the upper floor and you nodded. Once he entered the room, he looked around carefully.

The room was… lifeless, to put it simply. For starters, Seonghwa was meticulously neat and far too organised. There wasn’t a single thing in his room that was out of place, and the housekeepers made sure to maintain that as well. The pillows on his king-sized bed were neatly stacked. The monochrome aesthetic of his room with a hint of gold surprisingly both fit the aesthetic of the house and felt a bit odd. There was only an abstract monochrome painting with a splash of colours on one wall, and that was it. 

“Well, this is where you will sleep- or try to,” you said, taking a seat on the grey couch that was far too comfortable and often somewhere you lounged when you invaded Seonghwa’s personal space. “And this is where I will watch you sleep.”

The angel regarded you with suspicion. “You will kill me in my sleep.”

“You’re far too valuable for me to kill, don’t worry,” you assured him and the angel felt an odd sense of comfort, though he questioned the reasons behind that. “I’m a doctor, so you can rest assured that I won’t let anything happen.”

“Are you not a shame to the medical community?” The angel candidly wondered out loud and you felt a pang of hurt.

“I won’t be when I’m done making use of your essence,” you promised bitterly. “Besides, I’m not your conventional doctor. I’m better than that.”

“You cut up humans to learn medicine. You are the worst kind.”

“And what is your scale to measure my morals?” You questioned, just a tiny bit of the pent up rage leaking in your voice. “Are you sure your scale is the right one, angel?”

The angel smirked- smirked at that, looking too much like the mafia lord in that instance. You released a short breath and got comfortable on the couch, unlocking your phone to check the updates. You paid no mind to the angel looking around and messing the room up until he got exhausted and lied down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I wish to return to the realms of the angels,” he whispered softly as sleep overpowered his consciousness. You looked up and watched his eyes flutter close, his breathing steady.

The angel was asleep. All you had to do was wait for the morning now.

“Fucking… bastard, thinks he is something to take control of me!”

The sound of two books colliding against each other with a thump, and the pent up sigh of frustration.

“Someone is going to die by my hands, and this fucking angel will be responsible for it-”

A smash- or perhaps, it felt like a smash because of the pounding in your head. You yawned unceremoniously, wiping your mouth and rubbing your eyes as you looked around-

You were in Seonghwa’s room- Seonghwa, who was now shirtless and sweating with anger, his upper body almost heaving with breathlessness. The muscles on his body seemed more pronounced and his veins were popping out. You considered pretending to go right back to sleep- maybe you could disappear into the couch if you stayed here long enough-

“You.”

“Hold up-” you raised your hand but when he started taking big steps towards you, you swallowed the scream that built in your throat and got up. Unfortunately, there was no way to get out of here and if you dared jump on Seonghwa’s freshly made bed (man was organising the mess the angel had made out of his room in his absence), the chances of him letting you live would lower exponentially. However, desperate times call for desperate measures and you slid under his arm to jump over his bed, making him curse some more under his breath.

He was quick, though. In a matter of seconds, he had you pinned against the wall, his arm splayed across your neck to hold you in place and you grimaced.

“What have you done, y/n?” He asked through gritted teeth. 

“You’re back, though, right?” You asked. “This is a good sign-”

“The angel is still inside- I can feel him here,” Seonghwa dug his finger into his temple. You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you let them lower until they fixated on the big tattoo on his neck. MATZ, a reminder of what he had lost.

“Alright, let me go,” you demanded gently. “And we can talk like two civilised beings.”

“What will you do about this, huh?” Seonghwa asked, no longer simmering with rage but unmoving with his position. 

“Why did you come inside the room during the ritual?” You questioned, awfully curious of the reason. “You heard the angel, right? The angel didn’t mean to possess you- I was his target. Why did you interfere, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa glared at you for a good few moments as if the answer to your question could be found in your eyes. However, there was no answer, and he let go of you. You took a deep breath, rubbing the soreness out of your collarbones.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. “Notice anything different?”

“Just a bit feverish, that’s all,” he admitted and you made note of that. “Find a way to undo this as soon as possible.”

“Already on it, don’t worry. I don’t like these turns of events. But… I’m also going to check the properties of the essence I managed to retrieve, and if I’m in need of more…”

“Get the angel out of my body,” he ordered, pronouncing every word threateningly.

“Got it,” you said in dismissal. If the angel’s essence was something of value… you would wring the angel dry before you would ever let him go. However, Seonghwa did not need to know that. You meekly smiled before walking towards his bed and smoothening the sheets. “What are you going to do?”

“Work,” he responded, “I’ve got a few meetings to attend and a few politicians to bribe.”

“How wonderful,” you commented. “Want me to come along?”

“I can handle it-”

“What if the angel… comes back?” You asked and Seonghwa paused in the middle of buttoning his black shirt. “Are you sure you can handle the consequences?”

For once, Seonghwa was silent and you sat on the edge of his bed, smirking. “I think I should stick with you until we’re sure the angel won’t take over randomly, at least. In case I see the angel is back, I can do most of the talking and make the angel shut up.”

“Why are you so sure that the angel won’t jeopardise my reputation?”

“Because, Seonghwa dear,” you got up and walked to him, buttoning the rest of his shirt and patting his chest. “I can end up killing him, and you in the process. The angel knows I’m capable of that.” 

“I know you’re capable of that too,” Seonghwa said in a low voice, peering down at you. “Question is… will you?”

“Stay curious about that,” you told him with a smile, pressing on his chin affectionately like you always did. Seonghwa scoffed though he couldn’t help but break into a smile as well. You told him you would join him downstairs for breakfast and went to get ready.

Once in the privacy of your room, you took a deep breath, thinking and planning for what was next. There was absolutely no way you were going to leave Seonghwa alone. He was stuck with you and would have to remain under your supervision until this matter was sorted. It wouldn’t be unusual to tag along to his meetings and visits- you were his partner, and you were often present alongside him, but you were also a very busy person who was more occupied with lab work. 

The lab wasn’t far from here, and while you trusted Dr. Choi, you never trusted anyone enough. You were going to monitor his progress and work with him too. You needed to see the composition of the angel’s tears and experiment with it- but when? 

You looked in the mirror, the bags under your eyes more prominent and your cheeks looking sunken. You sighed deeply- it looked like you would be sacrificing your sleep quite a lot now.

And if sacrificing your sleep meant you would be basking in Seonghwa’s presence? So be it. That’s all you ever wanted anyways.

While Seonghwa was the same old person that he had always been, albeit more distant than ever thanks to the being inside his head that ‘wouldn’t stop whispering to him’, as he claimed. You could not blame the mafia boss for being on edge- apart from the fact that he was running a constant low fever, his senses seemed to be heightened as well. The lights felt too bright to him, the noise was too loud, and you-

You gulped as he flicked the dagger between his fingers effortlessly, contemplating if he wanted to slice you open or slice his own head open to extract the source of the constant whisperings.

“Look, it’s only been a few days, it will get better-”

Yet another dagger thrown at the board behind you, narrowly avoiding your cheekbone but definitely trimming the strands of your hair that were sticking out. You didn’t even flinch this time, but you were losing your patience too.

“Park Seonghwa,” you warned. “If you want me to leave you alone, I will. I won’t be responsible for what happens next. You have a meeting with Assemblyman Hwang later. He’s willing to buy drugs from you, and I know you want that meeting to go smoothly.”

Seonghwa slumped back in his office chair and folded his arms as if feeling cold. “I never said that I want you to leave me alone. But the sight of you… how do I put it…”

“Yeah, I know you hate me for obvious reasons, but technically-”

“Don’t say another word.”

You lowered your finger and zipped your lips. Technically, it was his fault and he knew that, which was the reason why he was so agitated. 

Seonghwa and the angel inside him were in a constant battle for dominance of their body. For Seonghwa, there was a motive- it was his body, and the angel was a foreigner. A parasite, almost. You still did not know why the angel wanted to be dominant in this body and take control so badly when all he did once he managed to take over was crouch in a corner, away from the rest of the world. He would barely answer any of your questions and you half-wondered if he wanted to kill himself.

There wasn’t a specific trigger either. Seonghwa would be functioning as normally as a feverish human could- a bit sluggish in his movements but alert nonetheless- and a loud groan of pain later, the angel would take over, finish doing whatever Seonghwa had been doing and go to sulk. You were pretty sure Seonghwa did not need to tell the angel to act like a human- the angel himself did not want to be seen.

Perhaps, that was why he chose the darkest of the corners to hide, away from the light of this world. 

The angel must miss the light of his world.

“The meeting is in a few hours,” Seonghwa reminded himself. “And I would like the angel to not take over-”

In some sort of a twisted notion of revenge, or karma, or whatever word you could use to explain the unfortunate luck of the mafia boss, he let out a foreboding painful groan and clutched at his chest, his eyes rolling back before he shut them. You watched with mild interest, shaking your head.

The angel was back.

“Hello, angel baby,” you called, beckoning him to open his eyes. His brown pupils glowed momentarily before he regained focus.

“Do not call me such terms,” the angel commanded and you huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I cannot call you by your name with my ‘filthy human tongue’,” you reminded him and he frowned. “I cannot call you angel, or angel baby- which is my favourite term, by the way. I like the look you have on your face when I call you that-”

The angel was beginning to look weary already and you smiled guiltily.

“What do I call you?”

“I… do not know,” he looked down at his hands, the dagger falling to the table with a clatter when he noticed that it was in his hand. “Did I say that you have a filthy human tongue?”

“Yes? Back when I summoned you in the basement?”

“I must have been very angry. I apologise. You do not have a filthy human tongue.”

You let out a short laugh. “I wasn’t affected by it, don’t worry. You don’t need to apologise, you’re literally an angel.”

“Has your heart been hardened so much that these terms no longer affect you?” The angel asked softly and you licked your lips in thought. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I guess I’m used to hearing things like these.”

“This man cares for you yet hardened your heart to this point,” the angel commented, clasping his hands and watching you with curiosity. “It is interesting what humans say out loud as opposed to the words they choose not to say.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re quite talkative today, angel.”

“I suppose I got tired of the solitude- it gave me no answers. You might, though.”

You raised your shoulders to tell him that you were right here and as oblivious to the situation as he himself was. 

“Since you’re in a good mood,” you began. “We must talk about some important things. It might help speed up your, uh, departure process.”

“Let’s hear what you have to say,” the angel said, tucking his hair away from his eyes and looking to his left at his reflection, wincing at the sight of Seonghwa’s half-tied hair and glamorous suit. 

“Why do you take over this body at random times? I mean, is there a trigger, or do you just say fuck it we ball?”

“What does that mean?” The angel frowned.

“Just… tell me why you took over Seonghwa now, of all the times,” you sighed.

“Because he has an important meeting, and he thinks that he can keep me at bay,” the angel responded, straightening. “I am here to prove that he, in fact, cannot keep me at bay. It is I who chooses to be dominant, whenever I prefer.”

“Well,” you drawled. This was news to you. “If you want to coexist in this body without any drastic consequences, I suggest you not try to mess with Seonghwa, especially when he has something important coming. It’s for the sake of both of you, because I know that he will try something stupid to get you to cooperate, and I would rather make an agreement with you and solve this predicament like civilised people.”

“I will take over whenever I like,” the angel insisted.

“Please?” You pouted and he stared at your doe-eyes with an intensity that made you want to take back your words.

“Fine. I can leave him alone when he has something important, but I do not have to answer why I take over any time else.”

Just like that? You frowned momentarily.

“While we’re at it…” you asked experimentally. “Can you be a sweetheart and come with me to the lab? There’s just a few things I have to check- vitals, bloodwork and such. I won’t ask you to cry and give me your essence, don’t worry.”

“What if I do not want to?” He cocked his head and asked. 

“Do you want me to beg again?” You laughed. “Please, come with me. It’s for your sake.”

The angel tightened his lips in thought and nodded just a few seconds later. “Fine.”

“You’re not hard to convince,” you commented as he got up. 

“I have no choice but to cooperate.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” You teased, going towards the hatstand and grabbing Seonghwa’s coat, sliding in front of the angel and offering to help him wear it. He gave you a sceptic look before slipping the coat on, a hint of a smile on his lips that you decided not to comment on. 

“Angels do not lie,” he said, taking the lead and pretending to be Seonghwa- of which he was an expert now, as if Seonghwa himself was instructing him what to do. You went to the parking lot and asked the driver to take you both to the lab. 

“We don’t have much time, so I’ll make this quick,” you whispered once inside the car. The angel nodded and you spent the duration of the trip in silence, the angel watching the world from the tinted window of the car. You almost felt sorry for him in that instance.

Once inside the lab, you greeted Dr. Choi who was writing some formulas on the board. 

“I’ve managed to break down the chemical composition of the essence. I’m surprised to see it’s very similar to the demonic essence we managed to acquire two years ago,” he said, watching Seonghwa with caution. “Is that the angel in front of me?”

“Yes,” you put on your reading glasses to skim through his notes. “That was one of the greater demons, right?”

“That’s what they claimed,” Dr. Choi muttered, motioning the angel to sit on one of the chairs. “What’s different is that the angel’s essence is more stable and safer to work with-”

“You will never be able to use an angel’s essence for medicine,” the angel declared casually and you both looked at him. “The existence of angels is supposed to be a mystery. There has never been an instance of an angel leaving a trace in the human world- by trace, I mean physical evidence. With demons, it is different- they have their own realms and rules.”

“We could change that,” you suggested. “This could be the first instance of it in history.”

“As soon as you spread it, and as soon as news of it reaches the realms of the angels, there will be a ‘natural catastrophe’ that will wipe off your existence and mine from the face of this earth.”

You cursed, looking at Dr. Choi who seemed more scared than annoyed, unlike you. You turned to the angel. “How will the angel realm ever know that we are using angelic essence in, say, drugs or medicines?”

“Demons track the consumers of their essence. When you and your evil boss sell demonic drugs, you put a red target on its consumers for the demons to prey on- and they feast on it,” the angel practically spat. “They make sure the consumers- the humans- do their bidding in return. So when you replace that with angelic essence, you will only be making it easier for the angels to find the humans they need to eradicate from this world.”

“Well, isn’t that lovely to hear,” you muttered. “What about experimentation here?”

“Your test subjects are bound to die. Any one of them that makes it out alive would not live long enough- and I told you that you cannot let the angel realm know that I am stuck inside this human. Does your life mean nothing to you?”

You looked at Dr. Choi who got the signal and left the room, saying he had to get dinner anyway. Then you turned towards the angel and walked closer, seating yourself in front of him.

“This is what my life means to me,” your tone was no longer soft. “I’ve worked hard all my life for this moment-”

“But some things are not meant to be,” the angel looked almost sad to inform you of that. “And that is okay.”

You gritted your teeth as you stared at him- how dare he look at you with pity? The rational part of your mind knew that he was absolutely right and that this was a shot in the dark anyway- you could still study the angel’s essence and at least learn something from it. But the emotional part inside you was currently fighting for dominance and for a moment, you felt sorry for Seonghwa- this battle inside him must be what he was going through at every moment.

It was your fault.

“I’ll check your vitals and take your blood,” you muttered, getting up and grabbing a kit. You wore medical gloves, checked his temperature and blood pressure, extracted some blood and ran some quick scans. Everything seemed normal and at least that was a relief.

When you finished and took off your gloves, you said that you were going to check his pulse and moved to grab his wrist. At the slightest touch, the angel pulled his wrist away as if your touch had burned him. You frowned and tried again, wondering if that was just a reflex, but he deliberately moved out of your range and you gaped at him.

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, rendered speechless by the cautious look in his eyes. “Why won’t you let me check your pulse?”

The angel’s tense body never relaxed but he allowed himself to return to his original sitting position, eyes still a little wide from the previous interaction. 

“Do you think my filthy touch will taint your body?” You asked, wariness dripping from your voice. You almost expected him to look at you with disdain.

“That is not why, no,” he sounded upset instead, moving to grab your wrist instead, flinching slightly again at the touch but relaxing soon after, curling your fingers with his. “I am sorry.”

You kept staring at him in confusion, watching him fidget a bit until he finally gave in.

“It has been a while since I remembered what human touch feels like.”

Oh.

All those times, deliberately moving out of your way and avoiding touching any humans, and now… caressing your hand and holding it with both hands, tracing the curves of your knuckles and marvelling at the sensation that he felt, cautiously meeting your eyes as if there was an implied sin somewhere that he was scared of committing-

All because he was touch-starved?

You shifted your fingers to rest your thumb on his pulse, locking eyes with him and silently counting while you found yourself relaxing, almost entranced by the way he looked at you. So shy, yet determined.

This was not Seonghwa. This was not the man you had spent all your life with. He had never looked at anyone this way.

“Hwa…” you whispered and the angel frowned in confusion. You squeezed his hand.

“I’ll call you Hwa.”

The fire behind those eyes, the flame in those pupils and the warmth of his touch. Seonghwa’s anger. ‘Hwa’. He held your hand between both of his as if it was a holy relic and planted a soft kiss on your knuckles, shutting his eyes and relishing the feel of his lips against your skin. The lips as soft as the petals of a flower. Hwa- that’s what the name meant.

“Thank you for giving me a name.”

You did not need to check your own pulse to realise that your heart was racing as much as his heart- perhaps, in a twisted synchrony.

The meeting with Assemblyman Hwang had gone smoothly without any disruptions with Seonghwa signing a deal that would expand his drug business while giving him protection from the law. However, your interaction with the angel at the lab had left a bitter aftertaste on Seonghwa’s tongue. While he never talked about that interaction or mentioned your new name for the angel, you could tell that he was conflicted about your behaviour with his ‘alter ego’, as you had termed it. 

And how could he not be confused? ‘Hwa’ was a foreigner in his body, doing whatever he pleased. The angel was opening up to human experiences more with each passing day and trying different things that Seonghwa himself would never do. The angel seemed to have a fondness for water bodies and mostly, when he took over, he would find the pool and either sit with his legs submerged or just float in the water while staring at the ceiling, as if he could see the stars or heavens, or whatever the angel saw in the sky in his realm.

Seonghwa would be lying if he said that having an angel inside him wasn’t… enlightening, to say the least. While he could not look into the angel’s memories like the angel could, he was intrigued by everything the angel had to share. It made him question his beliefs, but it also strengthened his ambitions. 

As for you… it had only been a few days yet the little things were starting to get to Seonghwa. You spoke to the angel so gently and carelessly. You indulged in whatever the angel had to say or did. You entertained him and satiated his curiosity. You let him look at you or touch you however he wanted.

Were you doing it because you wanted something out of the angel? Did you think you could win his heart or convince him to create the medicinal drug for you? Or were you doing this out of fear? Fear for your life, for Seonghwa’s life? Or… was the sadistic side of you enjoying Seonghwa’s misery?

He would not be getting answers to that any time soon, and he would not dare ask you for a multitude of reasons- the first and foremost being that he did not want to sound like he cared. Whatever you did with the angel should not be affecting him as long as you remained within your limits and didn’t cross some invisible boundaries, he told himself and hoped you were aware of that too.

He was not going to lie and say it didn’t sting a little that you barely looked at him anymore when he was Seonghwa. He had to do stupid things to get your attention now, such as-

“If you poke me one more time, god help me Seonghwa, I will break your fingers.”

There you were. 

You did have phases like these, where Seonghwa would wonder if you were growing distant from him or had found something- or someone- better than him. Seonghwa was a manipulative bastard and he always made sure that you were within his sight. He never allowed you to look too far, and whoever looked your way? Well… they would be subject to an unfortunate fate soon after. 

You were his. His little doctor, his only friend, his family if he ever had one, his everything, yet… nothing. Perhaps, the last part was a lie, the angel had suggested in one of his whispers. Perhaps, the angel was right. But admitting it would mean that he had a weakness, and Park Seonghwa did not have any weaknesses. He had made that mistake once and lost a dear brother, the reminder of which was inked on his neck so he would never forget. 

So why did this little phase feel different, almost threatening to him?

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” You asked, but when he raised a brow in amusement, you shut up.

You had brought this upon yourself, bounding him with yourself to keep him ‘under surveillance’. He definitely did not have anything better to do at home in the late hours of night. He had wrapped up his work in the evening and accompanied you to the lab for the daily check-ups and for the past few hours, he had been rolling around on his bed. There was nothing to plan, nothing to scheme for once. He just watched you study and make notes on your devices and before you knew it, he had joined you on the couch, poking at your sides once in a while, making you swat at him in dismissal as if he were a mere fly.

Perhaps, all his talk about being ‘the boss’ had not worked very well, after all. He should have never let you get so close- or gotten so close- because you sure had a way of acting like the one in charge sometimes. The small, almost non-existent emotional part in his brain told him that you certainly helped with his loneliness and he had to agree. You were a crutch now. 

“You know I can’t sleep well with all this incessant sound of your typing- why do you type so loudly on a screen?”

“The sounds help me focus,” you told him. “Let Hwa take over. He’ll sleep for the both of you.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes. “You want me gone that bad?”

“Aw, is the mafia boss hurt?” You mocked, going back to highlighting an important line in the research paper- perhaps, the tenth paper of the night. You were scrounging through them for any information on working with a chemical bond as unique and complex as the angel’s essence. 

When Seonghwa didn’t answer or threaten to kill you, which was the likelier response, you looked at him to find him with a sombre expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Something is,” you shifted your attention to him. “Feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just… confused,” he admitted. “Having someone live inside you does that to you, I suppose.”

You shrugged, watching him carefully. “If you have a problem, you can ask me. You know that, right? Forget about the ranks for once, Seonghwa. You know you can trust me.”

“I know,” he nodded assuringly. “I just don’t like this. That’s all there is to it.”

You pouted. Nothing you could do about that. 

Seonghwa had a multitude of questions to ask you about the angel but he decided to hold them for now. Instead, he locked your devices and took your hands, steering you to the bed. You laughed- your old Seonghwa was back. He tucked you in the sheets, just like he had done a thousand times now when you were little and would fall asleep in the middle of studying. Dimming the lights until there was only one lamp at the front of the room, its white light creating a soft halo effect in the room, he got on the other side and silence took over. The sounds of your unsynchronised breaths started to fill the room. 

You turned your neck to find him wide awake, staring at the ceiling. You felt a pang of longing inside you- you wished you could hold him and tell him that it would soon be over, that you were sorry, that you wished you could make it better and you did not like seeing him acting so unlike himself-

“Shut up, you’re too loud,” he said and you snickered. You shifted until you were facing him though he didn’t move.

“What did you hear?”

“You’re sorry. You don’t like when I act strange, though you do enjoy it,” he spared you a glance and you grinned.

“That’s only half of it, though.”

“Would I want to hear the other half?” He asked.

“Well… some things are better left unsaid for a reason, eh?”

Seonghwa shifted to mirror your position, now facing each other. It was a good thing that there was still a respectable distance between you two. Sleeping like this had never been a problem- you didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in separate spaces for most part of your childhood, and once you did have the luxury, you would find each other anyway.

“Something tells me I should hear it anyway.”

“Ah, it’s the sentimental Seonghwa tonight, I see,” you retorted and when he shot you a glare, you gave in. “I wish I could make this situation better for you.”

“Hmm… you’re doing your best, though. Try harder from tomorrow,” he ordered and you muttered a ‘yes sir’. “What’s the last bit?”

You bit your lips- would you dare tell him now? If he pushed you away, you would have to live with that. 

But then… he pushed you away all the time anyway, and there was Hwa. He made up for it.

“I just…” you started, finding his hand under the sheets and brushing your fingers against his. He remained still. “I just want you to hold on if things get hard.”

“Things will get better,” Seonghwa said, the words sounding like a lie even to himself. “I know I could die, we both could if the angels or anyone finds out about this, but… it will be okay. We will survive this, y/n. We always do.”

“I don’t want to live through that pain again,” you whispered. 

“Tsk. You’re strong. You’re a warrior, and you will survive,” he assured you. “I will make sure you do.”

While he did not hold your hand, he let your fingers remain where they were, caressing his and you moved just a bit so you could lightly link them. A shaky breath left your lips as you allowed yourself to relax, welcoming sleep and leaving Seonghwa to wonder if he could say the same about himself- would he survive this ordeal?

He would wonder about that later. 

~

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you were greeted by the sight of Seonghwa who was already awake and watching you. You frowned, rubbing your eyes and moving to check the time before slumping right back- you could still get a few minutes of sleep.

You shut your eyes and curled your body, fisting the sheets, your head spinning with drowsiness. About a minute passed when you realised that the person watching you sleep wasn’t Seonghwa-

It was the angel. 

You opened one eye to find him watching you with the softest gaze, lips parted. Your heart would have swooped if you weren’t half asleep.

“Never watched a human sleep, eh?” You asked, voice raspy.

“Not like this- not so closely,” he admitted.

And perhaps, the drowsiness was getting to your head. You moved closer, tucking your head under his chin. The angel’s body tensed and you grinned to yourself- your bodies were still maintaining a distance but at least he wouldn’t be able to see your sleepy face. 

“There we go. You can take an even closer look now,” you said, preparing to go back to sleep.

“I cannot see you anymore,” the angel complained.

“Perhaps, that is the whole point,” you told him.

“I suppose I can try something else then.”

Before you could ask what was going on in his head, he was tucking you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. For a few moments, drowsiness left and clarity overcame your senses- Seonghwa had never cuddled like this with you. This- one arm draped over your waist, keeping you close, his other hand caressing your hair in an attempt to lull you back to sleep, your breaths synchronising with the rise and fall of his chest…

Heavens above.

“Do I scare you?” The angel asked cautiously and you made the mistake of looking up, finding his eyes filled with worry.

“No,” you admitted, watching his expressions morph into what had to be happiness. 

“Then relax, and get your fill of sleep.”

Easier said than done. The fact that it was ultimately Seonghwa’s body and his voice made this entire situation more difficult to comprehend. However, there was no other choice but to relax in the angel’s touch and perhaps, that’s what you were meant to do for now. You relaxed a bit and fisted his shirt- Seonghwa’s shirt- instead of the sheets. 

And when you woke up later, the angel was asleep, looking content. You knew it was the angel because Seonghwa looked like he was fighting demons even in his sleep. You smiled at the sight, daring to caress the angel- Seonghwa’s- face, feeling something sad building inside you. You tucked his hair away, the strands as soft as you remembered from years ago. You ran your fingers through his hair-

Wincing when you felt a sharp burn against your finger. You drew away your hand, finding a small part of your index finger singed- was there something in his hair? You cautiously ran your hand through his hair again-

A little yelp escaped your mouth as you felt a sharper burn this time and you clutched at your hand, a small red welt near your thumb now-

“Oh, dear,” the angel was awake and inspecting your hand worriedly. You looked at him in confusion and surprise as he shut his eyes to say a prayer, holding your hand to his forehead and then bringing it to his lips, planting soft kisses on the burns that seemed to be patching up as if there was never a wound in the first place.

You gasped in disbelief, inspecting your hand. “How did you do that?”

“I am sorry,” the angel’s brows were furrowed in pain as if he himself had received those burns. “I did not mean to- it is probably my halo. I did not know it would burn even as a human.”

“It’s okay,” you assured, examining your hand. “I’m all patched up now, aren’t I?”

“I hurt you-”

“It’s okay,” you broke into a smile. “It didn’t hurt too much- I was more surprised.”

“I burned you-”

“Hwa,” you cupped his face, making him look at you, his eyes glazed. “I’m a strong girl. These little burns don’t make me feel much. I receive burns all the time, see?” You showed him your hands and arms, littered with faded scars of burns. “In my field, you get used to it.”

“Your skin is not meant to be marred like this.”

“But humans carry the marks of their life all the time,” you told him. “Don’t you carry something like that too? If not on your body… in your heart?”

Hwa looked at you with thoughtful eyes, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed, never letting go of your hands as you moved to sit in front of him. He sighed deeply, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Do you want me to heal them?” He asked cautiously. You shook your head no.

“Each mark on my body tells a story. I’d like to keep them,” you explained.

“Can I… kiss your hands anyway?”

Oh. He was going to be the death of you.

“Do you have a thing for my hands, sir?” You joked. “These aren’t the prettiest hands ever, I can find you a better pair-”

The angel ignored your rambling, planting soft kisses on the back of both your hands before he looked up. “To me, they are beautiful, because they tell your story.”

“Hwa- you can’t just kiss my hands and act all normal afterwards. This is not normal.”

“I am an angel,” he told you, kissing each of your knuckles, looking almost drunk with his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. “Normal cannot define or bound me.”

Your eyes twitched in half anger and half… submission. 

“What are you trying to do, Hwa? What are you trying to pull?”

“Do you think I have some hidden intentions?” He asked almost dangerously, and you thought that he looked obsessive for a second. “I- I only wanted to experience this feeling, and if you want to push me away, I will go back to hide in the corners-”

“What feeling do you want to experience so badly?”

“Being human,” he said, almost spat as if the idea appalled him too. “I cannot tell if it is the human in me making me feel so strange, but I want to touch and be touched. I want to live- I want to eat like humans do and savour the flavours on my tongue. I want to bask in the sun until it starts to burn me and float in the pool until I feel one with the water. I want to hold another human, feel their heartbeat against mine, do something about the yearning in my heart- I’ve never felt like this.”

For once, you had nothing to say. You simply watched the angel curl in on himself, looking like a broken piece.

“And I’m scared,” said the wounded soul. “I’m scared that I will never be able to go back to my realm. I’m scared of being okay with that. I’m scared of enjoying these human experiences. What if I do not hate the idea of being human and they find me? I do not want to die a human, yet…”

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding you,” you did not hesitate to pull the angel in your arms. If this was what he needed, you could give him that. The angel sucked in a breath but quickly melted in your arms, clutching at you almost childishly.

“I think I understand you,” you caressed his head, not caring how it burned your skin. “You’re a human, for now, whether you like it or not. This is your chance to experience what it is like to be a human without any boundaries. No one is stopping you, and I… I will protect you… until you are ready to go back. I hope you will be welcomed with open arms when you go back. You must miss your home so much, Hwa. I’m sorry I didn’t realise that- you do not have to be human to miss your home.”

Hwa buried his face in the crook of your neck, taking deep breaths. You winced at your damaged hands, resorting to hold him still instead. 

“Have you always been this mellow, oh angel?” You asked. 

“This is who I am,” the angel admitted, drawing away. “But you have seen how angry I can get.”

“Yeah, angry is an ugly look even on angels,” you agreed, shivering at the memory when you felt like he would have obliterated your existence with a mere swipe of his finger. You showed him your hands and he winced, looking apologetic but you smiled, making pride swell in his heart. With a prayer, he kissed every burn mark until your hands were back to normal.

“I will try to refrain from caressing your head from now on,” you stretched your fingers. “My hands are precious to me, thank you very much.”

The angel laughed, a small part of him knowing you wouldn’t be able to do that. You shared a laugh, smacking his back and asking him to get up and join you for breakfast.

Once again, in the privacy of your room, you crumbled to the floor. 

What were you doing? Letting the angel touch and hold you like that- he was supposed to be the touch-starved being, but you were no better. How could you do this to yourself- to Seonghwa?

Just what were you getting yourself into?

And why did the consequences of your actions not scare you?

Everything seemed to be in order in your life and Seonghwa’s, yet it had never been like this before.

Seonghwa never talked about your intimate interaction with the angel- you knew that he was able to see fragments of what was happening through the shared subconsciousness, and if he tried, he could even share consciousness now given that the angel would not resist. 

Either Seonghwa did not mind, which was unlikely, or for once, he had nothing to say, which was odd. He always had something to say about every situation, and his silence was louder than ever.

However, his behaviour was the same- in fact, he had grown more understanding in the past few days. Understanding of his situation, of the lack of control he had over his own body. Understanding that you were still trying to find ways to get the angel out of his body, contacting every demon summoner and going to dangerous places with him to learn more about the dark arts. You would never tell a soul that you were doing this for an angel. 

You had also started to look into the history of angels, and while the angel himself didn’t share much about his realm- sworn to secrecy, perhaps- he guided you anyway. He was able to confirm or deny whatever you read about angels. 

You came across his real name in one of the books and learned that he was an angel of fire- while he was not an archangel, he was considered to be one of the angels with their own conscience, which meant that he was capable of sin. You were confused about that topic so the angel silently turned the pages of your book until you were at the section of ‘Fallen Angels’.

That day, the angel wished to go out and fly, so you took him to the mountains instead where you sat on the edge of a rock and watched the world below. That’s when you asked him if there really was good and evil in every human.

“Humans are not inherently good, but humans lack the desire to sin when they are younger. As they grow older in their intellect, the desire to sin becomes something appealing to them. The more a person sins, the more evil they become until the goodness in their heart is nowhere to be found.”

“Do you think there’s any good in Seonghwa’s heart?” You asked and the angel looked at you. Dressed like Seonghwa in a fur coat with his hair twisted back and tied, you almost thought it was Seonghwa himself sitting beside you. 

“Do you believe there is good in this human’s heart?” The angel questioned.

“Maybe,” you pouted. 

“Does it matter to you if there is?”

“If it mattered, I would have left long ago,” you admitted and the angel nodded. 

“I cannot say if there is good in this heart, but there was something that pulled me to him instead of you, when I was going to possess you. Maybe the evil inside me resonated with his nature.”

“But you’re an angel,” you looked at him. “You’re not evil.”

“There is the desire in me to sin, therefore I am capable of being evil,” the angel responded. “I feel as if I am sinning even now. Sitting with a human, stuck inside one, unable to perform my duties…”

“Do you hate being evil so much? If this is what evil is to you?”

The angel did not answer your question. And it got you thinking that maybe, there was a goodness inside Seonghwa that created the space for the angel. If that was the case, there was evil inside the angel too. Maybe, this was the true meaning of balance- a human too evil, and an angel too good, yet both containing a little kernel of pureness and darkness in their hearts- both coexisting inside one body.

But if being human was what encompassed the idea of being evil for an angel, this angel sure was enjoying the most mundane experiences. He was no longer opposed to trying out new things- a smoke, which had him coughing his lungs out later, cotton candy from the stall because it looked like clouds (Seonghwa was not pleased about that, claiming it left an aftertaste in his mouth), and food. Food of all kinds because apparently, the human had not been enjoying eating lately.

The angel’s curiosity wasn’t satiated with just that. You almost felt as if you were teenagers again and going on dates. From picking flowers in gardens to learning how to ride a bike. You made sure all your outings were away from the eyes of the staff or anyone who could recognise you, because you were sure no one would like the most notorious mafia leader in the town wiping dust off the petals of flowers or screaming like a banshee before falling down from the bicycle unceremoniously. 

The angel- Hwa- was laughing like a human and it warmed your heart because Seonghwa had never been able to laugh like that. His laugh was pure and unrestrained, something humans usually wished for. His eyes sparkled as he observed the human world, watching and learning the concept of a family, of friends, of lovers. You could only wish Seonghwa was learning something along with the angel too.

While the angel started growing closer to you, the human started growing distant. Whenever Seonghwa took control of his body, he would busy himself with work and not correspond with you much- on anything. It would be up to you to update him of the recent developments, or learnings, or whatever you wished to tell him- he seemed the most uninterested. He didn’t care anymore if you wanted to talk, keep him under your surveillance or leave him alone. It was almost as if he had sworn himself to the silent treatment. 

This wasn’t the first time he behaved that way, but it was different this time. Whenever you did something wrong or made any sort of mistake, it was a given that Seonghwa was going to give you the cold shoulder for at least a couple of weeks. You could try to make him give in- bribe him with something that he could not resist (the latest Lego usually did the trick- he may be the mafia boss but he loved his legos) or treat him to something nice. That usually solved the matter, but each time you were not allowed to defend yourself. Sure, he would hear you out occasionally, but he would rarely ever be convinced.

This time was different. While he did not consciously push you away, his behaviour was doing nothing to help you. It was getting harder for you to not look forward to Hwa taking over- at least he didn’t look at you with contempt. Something was off about Seonghwa, and you were trying to ask him what was bothering him so much- he refused to meet eyes with you or converse with you properly and you knew no bribery could resolve this.

“Have we dispatched the first batch of drugs to Assemblyman Hwang?”

“We have, it’s written there,” you pointed at his tab and he hummed, dodging your question once again. You decided to change the topic.

“Do you think we should try something like exorcism? An angelic version of it? The theory doesn’t sound bad, does it?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Whatever you feel like.”

You stared at him- he was trying so hard to act normal. This wasn’t going to work.

“Are there any more documents to sign? My fingers are starting to hurt- you know how I was in the lab all day working with specimens-”

“So?” Seonghwa dropped the pen and finally looked at you, eyes cold enough to send a shiver along your spine. “Do you want the angel to take over and worship your hands again?”

You scoffed in disbelief, wondering if that was a joke. When he went back to marking notes, you tapped on the table to get his attention.

“Say that again,” you challenged.

“We all know how much you crave affection,” Seonghwa muttered. “Good thing the angel is willing to show you some, at least.”

Unbelievable. This was what was bothering him?

“I asked you time and time again to tell me if something was bothering you- why did you keep your feelings bottled up only to stab me with your words now?” You asked. “You think I enjoy the fact that you’re sharing your body with an angel? Forget about what the angel does, you think I really want you to disappear?”

“It sure feels like that sometimes. You’re doing well without me, aren’t you?” Seonghwa scoffed.

You felt blood rush to your head, making your vision go red for a moment. Rage. 

“I’m cooperating with the angel, Seonghwa. I’m playing along with anything the angel wants so you don’t have to suffer, you miserable, miserable bastard. I’m doing all of this so that the angel shares consciousness with you and does not mess up your business- or would you rather have the angel taking over and actively fighting back? Fuck you,” you spat, throwing your own pen across the table which he barely caught. 

Not a hint of remorse in those eyes, though his little smirk had disappeared.

“You’ve always sheltered me all your life,” you got up, lowering your voice and this time, guilt did flash in his eyes for a mere second. “You’ve made sure I had no one except you, and you made sure my eyes only found you- that I only looked at you. So forgive me, Seonghwa, if you finally look back for once and I still find my defences crumbling when it isn’t even you.”

With that, you turned to pick up your belongings and leave-

And when you heard the familiar sigh that marked the angel taking over, you froze.

Had Hwa perhaps heard that? All of that?

You cautiously looked at him, finding his eyes filled with hurt. He almost looked grieved.

“Hwa-”

“Stop,” the angel raised his hand in the air, his voice dripping with sadness. “Not another word-”

“No, listen-”

“I know what I mean to you now,” Hwa said with a restrained voice as if still struggling to accept what he had heard. “There is nothing more that you can offer me.”

“I only said all of that because of Seonghwa,” you explained gently. “I did not mean that-”

“Yeah, Seonghwa heard that,” the angel said, shutting his eyes. “The damage has been done, human. To both of us.”

“Hwa, angel,” you dropped your stuff and took a few steps towards him but he left the room, leaving you regretting every word that you had said. Your eyes welled with tears and you took a few deep breaths, the tight feeling in your throat growing with each passing second.

You needed to find him- Hwa.

You looked in Seonghwa’s room first, but he wasn’t there. You wondered if he went to the pool and on your way there, you searched the rooms, asking the few staff members who were present if they had seen their boss around. None of them had. 

And when you found the pool empty, you sank to the ground and buried your face between your knees, letting out choked sobs- it had been years since you had cried. You were not sure if you were crying because of Seonghwa, or Hwa, or just everything- 

But it looked like you would be filling the pool with your tears tonight.

You cried until there were no more tears left, until your clothes were soaked. You sobbed until your throat felt raw, your nails leaving dents in your skin where you dug them in your palm. You silently cried until you heard the familiar footsteps, and it was almost surprising how that triggered a fresh stream of tears.

Was that Seonghwa? Or was that the wretched angel who had taken over your mind and soul? It didn’t matter anymore-

“Why do you cry, my dear?”

The damned angel. You brought your knees closer in an attempt to hide your face, but it looked like the angel was not going to give up. He sat in front of you, taking your hands in his and making you flinch visibly. Hurt, he let go of them.

“What is the reason for your tears?” He asked gently. You took a deep breath, sneaking a peek and finding his eyes puffy as well.

“Don’t tell me that you cried and wasted your essence,” you muttered, making the angel shake his head in disbelief. 

“I told you that the essence is of no use to you. I wiped every trace of it, don’t worry.”

You sighed, burying your head back between your knees. This time, when the angel hesitantly brushed his fingers against yours, you didn’t flinch away. However, he made no attempt to hold your hands either, only tracing the outlines of your fingers.

“I am sorry for my behaviour,” the angel said and you looked up at him. “I should have given you a chance to speak. I know humans say things they do not mean all the time- and if it is of any relief to you, your human Seonghwa did not mean to hurt you like that either.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “The damage has been done.”

The angel gave you a look. “You have a habit of throwing my words back at me.”

“It’s the truth, though,” you said, getting up and the angel followed. You wiped your face, tired. “I meant what I said. Every word of it. Yet…”

You looked sideways, biting your lips to keep more words from spilling. The angel looked at you expectantly.

“Seonghwa is not able to hear or see anything right now- I’ve pushed him back. So you can say what you want to me.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m not spending time with you because I’m scared of you, or scared of what you will do to Seonghwa. Yes, initially I was- of course I would be. I’m only a human and you’re a divine being. However… I don’t know, Hwa. I’ve always wanted Seonghwa to really look at me, to acknowledge me. And when you look at me, when you are with me… strangely, I find myself forgetting all about Seonghwa.”

“Is that the truth?” He asked cautiously and you nodded. You weren’t going to lie now. 

“I’m exhausted. I don’t know what I want or what I’m doing, but I just want you to know that I like you. I’m not simply cooperating with you, I like spending time with you- just you, the angel who’s beginning to live like a human. I know I’m supposed to get you out of this body even if it means that you get hurt in the process, and frankly, I’m still searching for a way to get you out, but…”

“But?” The angel asked and you mustered the last bits of courage in you, for the final declaration- the one you were too afraid to admit and even more scared to say out loud.

“Tell me,” the angel beckoned, taking a step towards you. You let your eyes scan him- the body of Seonghwa, clad in a black shirt and slacks, yet not his demeanour. Seonghwa’s face, yet unlike any expressions he had worn. His messy curls falling on his face only made him look more human, and it hurt.

“I don’t want you to leave, angel,” you confessed with a short laugh, letting the angel wonder what that meant. You turned to leave- at least you could put distance between the two of you-

“Then stay. Make me stay,” the angel’s voice was firm, almost as commanding as Seonghwa’s, but authoritative in an entirely different manner. A request, a favour. A plea.

“You’re an angel,” you reminded him, your voice wavering. “You are supposed to be performing your duties, you are supposed to be righteous and not give in to sin.”

“Yet here I am,” he shrugged, smiling in defeat. “Falling from grace and finding pleasure in sin- if this is what sin is.”

“Can I really ask you to stay?” You held your breath.

“You could ask me to fall from the heavens, and I would. I think I have already fallen. And I’m afraid of what I will let myself do for you, so stay, please.”

This was an angel, ready to sink to his knees for you. Your breath quickened as you turned, your heart ready to burst from the sheer amount of emotions.

“Where’s Seonghwa?”

“Not anywhere near,” the angel confirmed, the two of you moving towards each other, the magnetic pull stronger than ever. Your arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, laughter bubbling out from the angel’s body and you soon joined- smiling in relief. 

This was where you were meant to be. In his arms, feeling safe. Feeling loved. 

You broke apart, his hands resting on the dip of your waist. You brought your hands to wipe the remnants of his tears from his eyelids, shaking your head and he smiled guiltily. Your gaze stuck on his parted, plump lips and before the angel could express any doubts, you secured your confession by capturing his lips in a soft kiss, making the angel freeze.

You drew back and looked at him in confusion, anxiety starting to bubble in your throat once again- had you made a wrong move? However, the angel seemed as if he was in a daze, his eyes travelling all over your face. 

“What do you think you are doing, love?” He asked, cupping your face and tucking your hair back, not giving you a second to respond as he kissed your forehead sweetly, moving to pepper kisses all over your face, sometimes letting his lips linger as if he was relishing the feel of his lips against your skin. You fisted his shirt and raised your face right when he leaned down, your lips colliding in a passionate, slow kiss that soon started feeling heated as you moved your mouths in tandem with each other, pulling each other impossibly closer. 

You broke apart for breath but it looked like the angel was not planning to let you go. He sucked at your lower lip and you welcomed him with an open mouthed kiss, making the angel lose his footing and take a few steps back, your laughter and breaths mingling. You grinned, leaping in his arms and making him back away another few steps as he struggled to maintain balance while kissing you at the same time-

And due to his own fault, forgetting there was a pool full of water behind, he let the force of your kiss physically push him back until there was no ground under his feet and he clutched at you, both of you yelping as you fell in the cool water. 

You almost swallowed some but managed to find your way up, laughing helplessly at the state of you two- absolutely drenched. The angel swiped his hair back and you let your eyes roam all over his upper body, the fabric of his shirt clinging to the muscles that Seonghwa had worked hard to build. For a moment, a tiny moment, you remembered Seonghwa but any thoughts of him went out of your head when you spotted Hwa scan your body with a searing gaze that stuck on the way your clothes clung to you. 

“Like what you see?” You teased. The angel licked his lips in response, swimming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, bringing your bodies flush against each other. You breathed heavily, letting his shoulders act as a brace as you lifted your body and captured his lips in a wet kiss, tasting water and kissing him as if he was meant to quench your thirst. You made out for what seemed like hours, his hands travelling all over your body, alternating from kissing your lips to feasting on your neck, his groans and moans fuelling you, your hands and arms singed in various spots, even nicked at places.

“Oh, angel,” you whispered against his ears, sucking at his earlobe. “They might clip your wings for this.”

“I do not need to fly if I am with you,” he declared, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “How did you entrap me with that demonic heart of yours, human?”

All you could do was smile devilishly in response. “Maybe you have craved darkness all your life.”

“Perhaps,” he kissed your lips sweetly. “If this is what darkness is… I wish I will never see the light again.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, hugging him tightly. 

Angel. Your angel. The light in your dark life.

He kissed the cuts and burns on your arms, preparing you to get hurt for him again. A pain that you were starting to get addicted to.

Seonghwa had never had to apologise for a thing in his life.

Every decision he made came with consequences and he might harbour regrets but he would never bow down in front of someone and apologise. The other parties involved would just have to make peace with that. 

He did not believe in the idea of apologising, even when time and time again he caused you hurt or discomfort and you demanded that he show some remorse to make things better. He preferred to let the tension die down instead and let your defences lower until you would forget that he wronged you in the first place. You only had him, so where would you go if you broke things off with him?

However, as Seonghwa got a look at himself through the reflection of the mirror-engraved wall of Assemblyman Hwang’s office, he shut his eyes for a moment and saw red. He willed himself to maintain his composure and smiled at the Assemblyman.

No wonder the man wasn’t taking him seriously.

“- rest assured, we’ll do our best to keep this inside the underworld channels and not let any scandals surface, so you can keep on providing us with the goods, okay?” the man said, pouring red wine for the both of them while Seonghwa clenched and unclenched his fists. “I mean, I know we almost messed up but we were quick to clean it up-”

“If another mess-up happens,” Seonghwa started in a low voice, making the middle-aged man frown, “Not only will I retract and clean up your mess, but I will make sure to wipe all evidence. And that, of course, includes all consumers. You understand that, right?”

Seonghwa took a sip of the red wine, watching the politician fidget with his clothes, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth. “Of course!”

Seonghwa set the glass on the table. “It’s a dark world we live in. Gotta make sure it doesn’t get any darker, yeah?” 

The politician, who always rambled about eradicating darkness from the world in his campaigns, grimaced at the mockery of his slogan. Seonghwa got up and left the room, hiding his face with his fur coat as much as he could.

Once inside the privacy of his car, he glared at the driver who squirmed but got the message. Seonghwa slumped back and wiped at his left cheek where the very vivid and recognisable red kiss mark was printed.

He was going to kill you for making a fool of him.

It was his fault- the driver had tried to warn him with a ‘Um, sir… you might want to freshen up before the meeting’. Thinking that the driver was just suggesting that because he was meant to meet a politician, Seonghwa told him that there was no need. He did not need to look anything else than the crazy man that he was. His appearance was crucial in making first impressions, and with this rough look, he wanted to show the politician just who he was dealing with. He had some points to get across. 

However, the kiss mark on his cheek watered down that roughness wantonly. No wonder the politician had been smirking for the entire duration of the meeting.

Seonghwa sighed deeply. Again, it was his fault, ultimately. He never apologised for the argument you both had, and after regaining consciousness and finding himself under covers with you, snuggled way too close for his liking, he waited until you got up. He did not like the way your expressions darkened when you realised it was not the angel anymore.

You simply informed him that the angel and you had a talk, and he had decided to block Seonghwa from watching his consciousness. Seonghwa and you got into an argument again where he wondered if you were trying to do something behind his back- an assumption he immediately regretted making- and you told him that the only time Hwa would be blocking Seonghwa would be when you and Hwa had something ‘personal’ going on; nothing regarding Seonghwa and his state- or his business, even. Seonghwa tried to probe in hopes of getting an answer as to what ‘personal’ entailed but you didn’t give in.

And it seemed like he got his answer anyway. While the angel was consciously trying to block him at times, he saw the way you looked at Hwa very well. You used to look at him like this before, eyes wide and expectant, something like affection dripping from them. And now you had found someone else-

Except this was also Seonghwa, technically. One body, one mind, but two different souls. 

He just needed to find out if you were serious about this- the angel inside his body was going to leave one day. If you were doing this just to piss Seonghwa off… it was working, but you did not need to go to such extents. 

He did not want you to go to such an extent. He did not want to carry your kiss marks just anywhere- those things were meant to stay in the privacy of his house, right? He did not want to wake up with you in his arms anymore, without any memories of how you got there in the first place. He was supposed to be the one who tucked you in bed- only him. He did not want to hear the echoes of your laughter in his subconsciousness- he did not want you to laugh like that in front of just anyone. He did not want his lips to hold the whisper of your name or the taste of your skin- no one could touch you like that.

He was going to kill you. For sure. But first, he was going to block the angel out of his mind. 

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how that would work, but he tried his best to focus on what was here and what was real instead of the being inside his head. Once he arrived at your lab where he was supposed to pick you up and take you home, he asked the driver to stay, opting to find you himself. The lab was a nice place to get rid of you- he wouldn’t need to clean the mess. Your own people would clean that up for you, just like they had always wiped the evidence of your sins.

At the sight of your tired figure making a chart on the wall with the progress of your ‘angelic expulsion’ discoveries, all his resolve crumbled. 

You had a habit of making charts and calculating probabilities to visualise your learnings- whether it be about your scientific data, theoretical data or mundane things- would Seonghwa be able to kill the rival gang’s leader? Probability– 89 percent. Factors– temper, first and foremost, which affects his strategy and attack. Accounts for 11 percent though the figure may vary on how his day went. Factors– me. Am I in danger? If I am, the probability of winning increases exponentially because he won’t let a fly hurt me. If I am not… does it decrease his willpower? Check-

Seonghwa found himself smiling at the memory- you were making this effort- for him, right? Despite everything, you were trying to get the angel out of his body so he could leave you both alone, right?

You caught Seonghwa staring at you from the window and beckoned him to come inside. He entered with a huff and you frowned at his cold stance.

“What? Did the meeting not end well?” You asked.

“It went well, but it could have gone better were it not for-” Seonghwa pointed at his cheek and it took a moment to click.

“Oh,” you grinned. “Did I forget to wipe that? My bad-”

Seonghwa walked in front of you but you did not move. He peered down at you, watching you with a threatening gaze. It would have worked on others, but it didn’t work on you- not anymore.

“Have you made it your life’s mission to get back at me? This is playing dirty, Doctor.”

“Oh, so I’m ‘Doctor’ now, eh? Keeping it professional this time?” You narrowed your eyes. “Honestly, I forgot to wipe that-”

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t deliberately placed there,” Seonghwa countered.

“It was deliberately placed. Just not for you,” you patted his chest before turning away, wanting to get away from him but he grabbed your wrist and brought you right back where you were- even closer this time.

“This is not the first time, though,” Seonghwa smiled dangerously, fixing your glasses for you and tucking your hair back. “It’s a repeated offence, darling.”

It was. You were purposely trying to mess with Seonghwa, that was partly true. From making the angel try Seonghwa’s least favourite drink just before he was about to switch so there would be an aftertaste in Seonghwa’s mouth, to messing up with his appearance or clothes. Seonghwa’s patience was running out for all the right reasons. 

“Hmm, well,” you tried not to squirm under his gaze. “I’m guilty.”

“I came here planning to kill you for once and all,” Seonghwa admitted, cocking his head and watching his finger trail down the curves of your face. This wasn’t the first time you had heard this phrase, but something told you that he might actually have been considering it. “But it looks like you are making some effort. Progress, even?”

“Ah, this?” You gulped, looking at the board. “Yeah, I think I’m onto something- but there’s a catch, and… I’ll have to talk with Hwa to make sure this doesn’t end bad for any of you-”

“For any of us?” Seonghwa frowned. “You’re only supposed to care about how it ends for me. That being is an angel, he’ll make it-”

“But I want him to make it out safely,” you interrupted, trying to get a point across but Seonghwa seemed too frustrated to process it. “It would be in our best interests if the angel leaves safely-”

“Your best interest,” Seonghwa pointed his finger at you, giving in and huffing. “Not mine. It was never about me, was it?”

“You’re right, not everything is about you. Just listen to me for once, you fool,” you scolded, making him sit on a stool so you could meet his eyes properly and hopefully assert some authority. “Suppose the angel somehow gets hurt or dies. That’s going to be the end of your empire- a horrible, miserable end. We’re lucky this angel got stuck inside you and all his rage dissipated because you’re too stubborn to let the angel take control. You understand?”

“I understand everything,” Seonghwa said calmly. “I just don’t understand why you care about the angel- what is he to you, y/n?”

What was Hwa to you?

The angel who looked past the sins that covered the entirety of your heart, scratched through the darkness to find a home in your heart. The angel that burned you and hurt you with his love, shed tears for you and healed you only to put you through the pain of loving him again. The angel that wanted you to release him from the clutches of the demon that Seonghwa was, yet wished to stay and give up who he was so he could be with you.

If someone would hear that out loud, they would laugh in disbelief, but you had never craved something good and pure all your life until you met Hwa. You were content in the darkness next to Seonghwa, were you not?

“Cat got your tongue?” Seonghwa asked and you shook your head, but there was nothing else left to say. He asked you to join him in the car and you followed after a few moments with your belongings, the ride home awfully silent. 

That night, you did not join him in his room. You stayed in yours, darkness swallowing your room and you. Perhaps, if you stared long enough into the distance, you would become one with the dark. 

However, a few hours and a soft knock later, you were joined by your doom and your salvation- only you did not know which one it was thanks to the lack of light in the room. The figure plopped down next to you on the floor with a heavy sigh, his shoulders brushing with yours and you both sat in utter silence.

When his fingers brushed with yours, you almost thought it was Hwa- he must have heard your conversation, must want answers. But when he wrapped your hand in his and squeezed it with a promise, you knew it wasn’t the angel.

It was the demon- and you were no longer sure if he was your doom or your salvation. 

“This isn’t a sorry attempt at an apology, is it, Seonghwa?” You asked and you could almost hear him smile.

“I’ll be dead before you hear those words out of my mouth. You know that,” he said and you squeezed his hand back. 

A few moments of silence passed, thick with confusion and tension. You caved in and asked, “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know, but the angel is asleep for once,” Seonghwa told you. “It almost feels like I’m back to who I was, except… even when the angel is asleep, I’m carrying remnants of him.”

“What does that mean?”

Seonghwa squeezed your hand in answer- this. This was unusual- sure, there was a certain extent of physical ‘affection’ between you two, if it could even be called affection. It was reserved for teasing, and in rare cases, support. 

“I don’t know why I’m here, but I am, and I don’t want to leave.”

“You love me,” you teased and he laughed a bit, but when he did not deny that, your smile fell- and for once, you were glad it was so dark. 

“You’re incapable of love, Seonghwa. I think something in you broke when you loved your other half only to let him go so soon.”

His brother- not in the biological sense, but a family nonetheless. While you and Seonghwa were reflections of each other, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been as similar as they were different. Hongjoong was the light, pulling Seonghwa out of his darkness while Seonghwa pulled him back in. And what a pair they made, balancing each other out in every sense yet never clashing, each rotten in their own twisted ways. It had been Hongjoong’s idea to leave the orphanage and mingle with the gangs- he did not leave with you two but found you just a week later, covered in soot and blood but smiling like a free spirit.

He had freed all the kids from the orphanage that destroyed you all- the people who clipped your wings when you hadn’t even learned to walk. He freed the kids, burned the building and all the guilty parties involved- at the mercy of luck. He got the kids to another orphanage through his connections-

And when Seonghwa asked him if you could use those kids to test your drugs on, Hongjoong had shaken his head in amusement but allowed it. It was ultimately bad luck that took his life only a few years later, right before Seonghwa’s career peaked.

He had not been the same since- and you understood. Hongjoong was your friend too- you grieved with him but he never moved on. He got their nickname tattooed on his neck so he was reminded every moment of what he lost.

“I think I’ve always been like this,” Seonghwa countered. “You just need an excuse to justify my behaviour towards you.”

Well. That was also partially true.

“But you’ve always accepted me as I am,” Seonghwa continued. “Some might think you actually love me, y/n.”

“But I do,” you admitted with a whisper. “I thought you knew that by now.”

“You love the whisper of good that you think I possess, dear,” Seonghwa corrected gently. “And once I got possessed by the angel, you found an excuse to love me without harbouring any guilt in that twisted heart of yours.”

If words could tear your heart apart- this was why the truth was so harsh. You took a shuddery breath and Seonghwa caressed your hand.

“You weren’t meant to live in the dark, y/n. I pulled you in and clung to you because you were the only one who saw me for who I am. Perhaps, even a better version of who I was, though I didn’t need that.”

“That’s arguable,” you laughed a bit. “I’ve got more blood on my hands than I can ever atone for. All for what? For science? For you?”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” he teased. You both chuckled at that, knowing very well how bad it was. You let a few moments pass, clutching on to his hand and he sensed the question before you said it out loud.

“Why did you come inside the room that day, Seonghwa? Why did you try to shield me from the angel?”

Silence. Only the sound of your breaths in the room.

“To protect you, of course,” Seonghwa answered. “Because you are my weapon, and I am your shield.”

Oh, him and his words.

“Isn’t it the other way round?” You pondered out loud. “You act like my weapon sometimes too-”

“Because,” he said, almost sounding as soft as the angel. “Because I saw the angel look at you the way only I am supposed to look at you. Did he take a look into your heart? Did he find it captivating- is that why he decided to possess you? I could not let the angel taint my warrior any further, so I shielded you.” 

“Except the angel liked that,” you sighed in realisation. “The angel found your courage more attractive and got pulled towards you. 

“Yet the angel continues to taint your body,” Seonghwa clasped your hand in his. “I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all.”

Silence. The sound of your heart beats.

“There is a pureness in your heart, Seonghwa,” you concluded.  “And… there is a darkness in the angel’s heart- I’ve seen it. You balance each other just right. That is why the angel is stuck inside you, and I’m beginning to wonder if you two are beyond help now.”

Deafening silence this time.

“You will try, at least once. For me,” Seonghwa declared.

“I will try more than once for you, if it means it will work and you two will be separate entities, and-” you faltered, the whisper of the promise you made with Hwa ghosting on your lips. 

If there was a guarantee that the angel would be able to stay in the human realm after leaving this body, you would perform whatever ritual, whatever sacrifice was required. But if there was none… you would not let him leave this body.

And now with Seonghwa right next to you, you wondered if the promise you made came from your heart. Hwa made you promise that and put the words between your lips, but did you mean it? Were you really going to keep that promise? Would you risk Seonghwa’s well-being for the angel?

Or were you just caught between two utterly selfish beings, holding the key to freedom for one or the other, or none?

When you got a call from Dr. Choi in the middle of the night, asking you to check the files he had sent you and come to the lab if possible, you were glad that Hwa had not taken over tonight and you were in your own room, which meant that you could sneak out without the angel’s knowledge.

And in the middle of tiptoeing through the hall did you realise- 

Why were you wary of the angel now?

Sure, the angel had told you time and time again that you could not possibly make use of his essence- you could learn from its chemical composition if that pleased you, but he was adamant about you not experimenting with it. You understood why- working with demonic essence had been risky business and this time, there was the threat of the angel realm finding out about your work too.

However, one thing you had realised in the past few days was that the angel was a soldier at his very core. A soldier of god, bound to duty and true to his morals despite being in a human body and trying to live like one. There were still some boundaries the angel was unwilling to cross, and you were beginning to think if his righteousness was what was hindering you from making some groundbreaking discovery about the essence or if you were simply too trusting of him. 

And then there was the fact that the angel wanted you- wanted to be with you. He spent all his conscious hours by your side, looking past your sins and loving you for the person that you were at the very core. He claimed that that person was beautiful and everything he could ever have desired for. He held you as if you were fragile, kissed you as if that was the last time he would get to do so, and loved you like no human ever could. He bowed in front of you and thanked you for seeing him as something other than the being that he was. His love was burning but it was pure. 

His love was pure, but it was starting to cloud your judgement and you needed to recalibrate yourself every time you were alone.

So good timing from Dr. Choi too. You drove to the lab yourself and found him wide awake, which was odd because he liked his night sleep very much. You entered the office and asked, “I couldn’t read the notes because I decided to just come and visit. Brief me.”

“You asked me to extract and replicate any components of the angelic essence that is similar to the demonic essence, right?” Dr. Choi pulled a stool for you so you could examine the sample under the microscope. “Take a look at this.”

You gave him a sceptic look before examining the two samples in front of you. For a moment, you were confused before it clicked-

“These samples- they are existing independently, without being linked in any way to the essence as a whole, right?” 

“Bingo,” Dr. Choi smiled proudly. “Almost killed myself during the extraction process but I’ve managed to get the non-volatile compounds out of this. Similar to the demonic essence, but still different enough in its properties that experimentation seems like worth giving a shot to.”

“Even if this does not have medicinal properties,” you started to read the notes, “It can still become a different type of drug.”

“A new line of drugs- that’s the least that can come out of this. As for the medical side, we can always keep researching, right?” 

“Seonghwa’s gonna be so pleased to hear this news-”

But Hwa. 

“The angel won’t be,” Dr. Choi said out loud for you and you pursed your lips. While the doctor was not aware of the shift in your relationship with the angel, he knew very well how adamant the angel had been in not letting you conduct experimentation with his essence. “Does the angel need to know about this?”

“I mean… we could conduct our experimentation in secret. According to him, we might be under threat if we let the essence be consumed as a drug of any sort. Something about how it becomes a marker for the angels. But if we’re just experimenting and erasing any evidence of human consumption simultaneously… that shouldn't be a problem, right?”

“And technically, even if we are found by the angels or whatever, we just… die. Poof. We’re used to living under those conditions anyway- do or die.”

You shared a grin with the doctor, but could you really give him and yourself a go-ahead for human experimentation with angelic essence? 

The answer was simple- you could, and you can. This was your decision, and if it were not for the angel interfering with your work, you wouldn’t even be so cautious about making your decisions. This was not you. Were you scared of the angel’s wrath? Sure. You were scared of Seonghwa’s wrath too, it wouldn’t be any different. 

But this- this was your realm, and you set the rules here. No one- not Seonghwa, and certainly not Hwa could interfere. 

“Contact the orphanage and the prison. We’re getting busy in the coming days.”

~

People argued about what was something that made them feel alive. What sort of human experience was exciting enough to make them feel charged, have electricity buzzing through their veins and heighten their senses? 

Some called it ‘the thrill’. They searched for it in the dark pits of this world, succumbing to their desires and inevitably losing themselves, becoming as hollow as shells. While searching for a way to feel alive, they would end up losing all purpose. 

Others searched for it in human experiences- love, happiness and other emotions and feelings. They would go out seeking ‘adventure’, connecting with nature and finding meaning in the simplest things- in the creation, in everything around them, in life itself. 

You, however, might be the odd one out. You stood at the threshold, tipping between ‘the thrill’ and ‘human experiences’ constantly and finding home at that tipping point. Some might argue that you were delusional and your means of feeling alive was something that deserved a special kind of judgement to have you sent into the deepest, darkest pits of hell. Was hell not simply a concept that humans created to delude themselves? Some found ‘the thrill’ in the hell they created for themselves, while the others used hell as an excuse to shape themselves into what they imagined a human should be. 

Your means of feeling alive- you felt the most alive when you were working in your element, in your field. When you were playing with chemicals and experimenting on live subjects - or inspecting the dead. When you were performing practically, creating products and testing them, unhindered by any ethical or legal boundaries. In this lab, you were the creator, the judge and the creation. You were the action and the consequence. Here, you found both the thrill and the human experience. Here, you were truly alive. 

“Another one passes,” you watched the vitals of one of your test subjects drop significantly- nothing that could be done about it. You had fed the young adult the angelic essence and though the timespan of the reaction towards it had lengthened a bit, he went into shock soon after. You tried saving the young adult but to no avail. “Another one bites the dust.”

“The things you say sometimes,” Dr. Choi shook his head in amusement, passing you a scalpel and you carefully made a vertical incision along the subject’s upper body, grimacing at the sight of the discoloured blood. “Shit, that’s just like what happened with the demonic essence.”

“Except we’re using the same quantity- that means the angelic essence might be stronger than the demonic one. We need to dilute it further,” you decided and he agreed, continuing with the inspection of the internal organs which appeared almost burnt. 

You had been spending more time in the lab in the past few days especially at night to start testing how practical an angelic drug would be. Seonghwa was aware of your recent occupation and was also a little proud of how driven you were this time. He made sure the angel would not look into his memory too much and you both decided to keep the conversation about this topic to a minimum. Seonghwa was also taking over at night time more so he could get proper sleep, he claimed, although you wondered if it was so you could have more time working in the lab.

While the angel wondered if it was because Seonghwa wanted him to stay away from you.

Hwa had no idea of the recent developments in the lab and was only aware that you had contacted the summoner from the ritual that chained him to Seonghwa and were preparing to try another ritual, currently researching if it would be safe for the both of them. He thought that was what you were busy with during the day and was wondering if that was what occupied your thoughts when you were with him.

And if the angel was a little honest with himself… he was a little scared of what you felt for Seonghwa. 

He understood that Seonghwa was the only person in your life from the beginning, and your bond with him was something irreplaceable. He also tried to be understanding when Seonghwa started blocking his memories and consciousness actively- if the angel could do that to him, so could he. The angel had no right to complain anymore. However… what did the two of you do when the angel was out of the picture? 

Nothing, was the answer. You would work in your respective spaces, sometimes chat about something or anything. On rare occasions when one of you was feeling sentimental, you would find the other and share comfortable silence or tease each other. That was it.

However, the angel may be oblivious to some things but he was no fool, nor was he blind. Seonghwa did feel something for you that went beyond what the word ‘love’ encompassed, and if the angel was really honest with himself, that was what he was scared of. 

So at the first opportunity when Seonghwa’s defences lowered just as he was about to fall asleep, the angel violated their recent agreement and took over forcefully. 

Hwa looked around, expecting to find you in the room- weren’t you supposed to keep watch on both of them? Or had you gone to your room to rest?

The angel found himself shrugging on a robe over the black tank top that he was wearing before exiting Seonghwa’s room and going towards yours. He knocked softly and opened the door, worried about waking you up if you were asleep, but he found the room empty and your usual belongings gone. So you were not home.

And that meant you had to be at the lab. There was no place else you could be- even your car was not in the garage.

So the angel found himself outside the lab, sensing something off about the air even before he entered. He found the lab room where you usually worked with Dr. Choi empty, your belongings dispersed around the room. So where were you? 

A warning song- similar to the one he used to sing to the humans who needed a little reminder of how small and insignificant they really were in this world- started sounding in his head. The angel wasn’t sure if he was singing it or if it was being sung for him. 

He got his answer when he found you in the dark basement, the stench of blood and something rotten filling his nostrils. He froze at the sight of you- you were beautiful, lit by the dim white overhead light, but so, so tainted with blood and sin. The dead bodies all around you… the humans that were alive but silently begging to be killed. Your eyes, sparkling as you looked around, blood splattered across your scrubs. The angel looked around and his heart sank as realisation hit him-

You were experimenting with the angelic essence.

The angel saw red before his eyes before he knocked on the door. You looked up and waved at the man, your smile falling when you realised it was the angel in front of you. 

“Uh… I’ll be back,” you told Dr. Choi who told you to take your time. You were nearly done anyway and you could go home soon. 

You opened the door for the angel, his gaze unforgiving and suddenly, you were gripped with the same fear that you had felt when you first saw him.

“I forbade you to not experiment with the essence, but here you are.”

“Why are you here?” You asked and the angel raised a brow.

“Funny that this is the first thing you ask,” he commented, glancing inside the room through the slightly ajar door. “Y/n… I trusted you to keep your word.”

“Look,” you sighed, taking off your mask and cap. “I’m not doing this for the medicinal drug- you told me that it would be no use and I took your word for it.”

“Then what is this for?”

“For…” you contemplated making an excuse or lying but it was too late.  “For the drugs, Hwa. I’m just trying to see if a compound extracted from the essence can be consumed like the ones from the demonic essence are-”

“I told you not to experiment!” The angel raised his voice and you shut your eyes, exhaling. “Why do you need to make a drug out of angelic essence? Do you have any idea of the consequences if this gets out-”

“I do,” you started moving towards another room and once in some privacy, you glared at him, his features seeming sharper with the faint lights casting shadows on his angry face. 

“It’s not like I’m manufacturing the drug, Hwa. We’re far from it- I’m only studying.”

“That is how you study?” The angel pointed towards the direction of the room and scoffed. “Killing humans as if their lives mean nothing?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms. “You know who I am. I have blood on my hands- more blood than even Seonghwa has on his. You call him a rotten excuse of a human for who he is, right? Then I’m worse. I’m a demon, and you knew it, yet you chose to love me and hold my hands as if they were a holy relic.”

The angel’s eyes flashed with hurt- of course he knew. 

“You are heartless,” he breathed out as if saying those words was hurting him. “I knew that. You are right, I knew who you were. I just thought…”

“That I would change?” You shook your head. “You thought that I would become a better person? Well, this is who I am, angel. This is what my life is. You asked me not to experiment with the essence, but you know that my heart’s deepest desire is to create more advanced drugs. You can’t stop me from doing anything to get there.”

“That is what my word means to you,” his expressions shifted from hurt to anger. “That is what my love means to you. You heartless devil. You and Seonghwa really were made for each other.”

“I may be heartless but you’re naive, and don’t think for a moment that you have any control over me, angel,” you spat the words, taking a few steps towards him for emphasis. “And you- you’re a liar. You told me that we could not get anywhere with the essence. You said you could not lie.”

The angel’s eyes almost glowed with the whirlwind of emotions that he was feeling, and your pointed finger in his face wasn’t making things better. He curled your finger back into your fist and held it in his hand, his touch physically burning you and you snatched your hand away with a yelp.

“Angels cannot lie, but they can hide the truth.”

A wave of anger washed over you and you looked at him in disbelief. “What other truths are you hiding from me? You know how to get out of this body, don’t you? Are you staying back on purpose? Are you not letting go of this body on purpose, Hwa?”

“You asked me to stay,” he smiled and you thought there was something sinister about his smile, especially as he started tucking your hair back and lightly caressing your face. “You think I am a liar, my love?” 

You shook your head, nothing making sense anymore. “Just tell me if you know how to get out of this body without hurting Seonghwa.”

“I am neither lying nor hiding the truth about this. I do not know how to get out of this body.”

“Is that the complete truth?” You dared to ask and the angel didn’t answer, holding your hurt hand and saying his prayers before starting to kiss it wherever it was burned. Tears of frustration started stinging your eyes and you looked away from his burning gaze. 

“Do you hate me?” The angel asked with a cautious voice and you did not respond. 

It shifted something in the angel, perhaps indefinitely. 

“Do not ever look away when I look at you,” he commanded, his voice settling in your bones and you felt as if you were almost compelled to meet his eyes. His face was void of expressions, gaze dark and he cupped your face, making you shut your eyes in pain when his touch started singing your skin but the angel did not care- he was far too gone in that moment. He moved closer, your bodies flush against each other and he trailed his lips along your forehead, peppering kisses along the way and then he kissed your wet lids, drawing back.

“Look at me,” he commanded again and you opened your eyes. You were frozen in place- not because you were scared, but because you simply could not believe that the angel was hurting you like this, his hands moving to your neck, wrists and any bare skin he could find, imprinting his touch in the form of light burns. He moved to kiss your cheek, licking the tears away and your breath quickened-

His love was pure, but this? This wasn’t who the angel was. 

Or were you just now getting to see the true face of the angel?

As he continued to kiss your neck and leave more singes on your skin, your body responded almost automatically and you curled into his figure, shuddering. You recalled reading something about angels and fallen angels in a book– it said something about how the angels were just god’s warriors, hollow at their core, one of their wings marred with blood for eternity. You asked Hwa what really was the difference between an angel and a fallen angel at their very core, and he did not have an answer-

Was it because he was also someone like you, struggling to stand on the threshold between being an angel or becoming a fallen angel?

What sort of an angel would hurt their human like this? 

And how did this angel go from crying because his touch burned you to purposely burning you? Maybe this was your fault too- you let his love burn and consume you. You were no better.

“I am violating the core of who I am in loving you,” the angel whispered in your ear, his hair tickling your cheekbone. “Do not take advantage of that… little bird.”

“Let me go,” you cupped his face, looking straight into his eyes, the name he called you finally giving you some clarity. “Let Seonghwa take over- please.”

“No,” he shook his head. “You can’t ask me to go now-”

“You’re hurting me,” you said and it was as if he could finally see the redness all over your skin. “Go, angel. Give me Seonghwa back.”

The angel’s eyes flickered with hurt, his eyes travelling all over the places that he burned you and it was as if he finally broke from his trance- he muttered a prayer and started peppering light kisses all over your face wherever his touch had burned you, his heart aching as he saw the fresh stream of tears roll down your face. Before he could do something about your neck or your hands, you drew away.

“Please, that’s enough for now,” you hardened your gaze. “We will talk later, when you are in your right mind. Let Seonghwa take over.”

“Oh, heavens above,” he sighed, ashamed of his actions and silently cursing himself. “I hurt you too much-”

“It’s-” you paused before you could finish saying the sentence.

It was not okay. You wouldn’t be telling him that it was okay to hurt you ever again.

Before you could say anything else, the angel groaned uncharacteristically and you watched as the shift happened, visible in the demeanour change, except-

Seonghwa took one look at you and almost lost his footing, struggling to stand as he clutched at the table. You reacted immediately, making him sit on a stool and asking him if he was alright, but he only held your hands with his own shaky ones and hid his face between them.

“Seonghwa?” Your voice came out in a small whisper- you had never seen him so weak. He wasn’t crying but he very well might have been with the way his body was trembling and he was breathing unsteadily.

“Talk to me, Seonghwa,” you urged, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” he sighed heavily, looking up at you with tired eyes, the rage obvious behind them. “I fought for consciousness the moment I heard you cry. Who hurt you?”

You.

“It’s the angel, isn’t it?” He examined your hands, trembling with the intensity of emotions that he was feeling- perhaps, a leftover product from the angel too. “He hurt you.”

“Seonghwa,” you sat down in front of him, on your knees. “I’m okay. It’s going to be okay-”

“It’s not,” he shook his head adamantly. “You have no idea how much I’m struggling to not let the angel swallow me whole- I’m scared to think of what would have happened if the angel lost all control just now.”

You silently shook at the thought and he caressed your hands before continuing.

“Sometimes, it feels like if he takes over my consciousness, I will get lost in the dark pits of my own subconscious forever. But now… I realise why  I’m sometimes hesitant to regain consciousness too. Because-”

He looked at your marred hands, caressing the burn marks on them lightly. “Do you know what I’m afraid of, y/n?”

You shook your head. “You’re afraid of nothing, as far as I know.”

Seonghwa smiled tiredly. “You’re right. I am afraid of nothing- I was afraid of nothing. But now… I’m afraid of seeing these burn marks on your skin whenever I wake up. How could you let him hurt you like this? You were supposed to be my warrior.”

“And you were supposed to be my shield,” you smiled sadly. “When you’re not there… I get burned.”

Seonghwa looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “This is what I’m afraid of. Hurting you and watching you love the very thing that hurts you. I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life but now… I’m afraid of losing you like this, y/n.”

Seonghwa. The most notorious mafia lord with no such thing as a ‘heart’ was afraid of losing you. Afraid of hurting you and seeing you hurt. Was this not what pure love was supposed to be, as opposed to your angel Hwa’s, who had better things to worry about?

You once asked the angel what he was scared of- other than the obvious. He talked about punishment. He was afraid of doing the very deeds that he would be sent to give punishment for. He was afraid of divine intervention- it was something that was scary to witness even as the audience. He was afraid of the future, of this world and its corrupt nature. 

And the angel was afraid of loving you only to lose you.

Was Seonghwa’s love for you not purer than the angel’s love, then? Seonghwa would go to hell and back for you. Seonghwa bowed down only in front of you- you, who were a part of him, a part of his soul, he would sometimes call you. 

The angel would only bow in front of god.

“You won’t lose me,” you promised though the words were of no comfort to both of you. Overcome by his emotions and some hard truths about what his future looked like, he brought your hands closer with his own shaky ones and pressed a promising kiss on both your hands. When you shifted to hold his hands instead and tried to make him look at you, he shut his eyes.

He could not look at you. Not now.

“Seonghwa,” you called, lifting yourself up a little so you could be at eye level. “Won’t you look at me?”

He only lowered his head further and you embraced him, sighing in relief when he shifted so he could hug you back properly. You let him come to terms with whatever he was feeling- he wasn’t going to talk about it but at least you could help him through it. You caressed his head without a fear of getting hurt for once, and he mustered up the courage to kiss you on the cheek.

You froze momentarily- Seonghwa rarely ever kissed you anywhere except the top of your head (that was his form of silently apologising). He nudged your cheek with the tip of his nose, his warm breath caressing your skin and you moved back slightly, making the mistake of looking him in the eyes-

You had asked for it, though. And now that he was looking at you, so close, you forgot how to breathe.

His hand went around the back of your neck, craning it so that he could make space for himself. He joined your foreheads, taking a deep breath.

“I won’t let the angel ever hurt you again. That’s a promise, okay?” He whispered and you nodded, your noses brushing against each other. He shut his eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he deliberately nudged the tip of his nose with yours, your lips almost brushing in the process but the ghost of his lips remained on yours.

You whispered his name- a call, a plea, and he almost gave in, reminded of the memories of kissing you that he had seen flashes of from the angel’s memory- oh, how he wanted to kiss those lips himself. He felt a sharp pain in the head slice at him, a reprimand from the angel, a warning. Seonghwa brushed his lips against yours once again just to piss the angel off before drawing back with immense effort, kissing your forehead instead. 

Your figure sagged in disappointment, tired from the yearning. You rested your head in his lap and gave yourself a few moments to recollect your thoughts. 

You would not question Seonghwa and his actions anymore. You knew exactly what was happening. You knew what you had to do now.

There is always a moment in your life when it feels like you’ve had an awakening- as if all this time, you had been wearing the wrong pair of prescription glasses, or not wearing anything to help your blurred vision. So when you finally fix the problem, or realise what the root of all your troubles is, you start to see the world with a sudden clarity. Everything seems sharper, you can see the fine lines that you would otherwise have missed, and it’s like you have a new perspective to the world, even.

At least, that’s how you feel as you perch your reading glasses up your nose bridge, craning your neck to the right and flipping through the pages of a dark arts history book, recalling that you had read something in it which seemed to be connected to the current theory you were working on-

The theory being that angels were, in fact, worse liars than demons. Demons had a habit of being overtly honest- the only problem was that they were tricksters and spun their words such that it would be hard to unravel the truth from. Angels, however, were outright liars in the sense that they would conceal the truth and mislead you by not telling you the complete truth.

At least, that’s who Hwa was. 

You spent the first couple of days trying not to have a mental breakdown and asking both Hwa and Seonghwa to leave you alone while you figured out your feelings for them but more importantly- just how much the angel had misled you? Was there anything he said about the angelic essence and its experimentation that was the complete truth? So far, there had been no warning siren ringing to inform you of some divine punishment. The heavens had not fallen over your head. You were just fine, and you were pretty sure that your experimenting was enough of a marker for the other angels. Why was no divine being interfering then?

And just what was the truth about the angel not knowing how to leave this body? Was he not leaving on purpose, a selfish angel who simply wanted to experience what it was like to not be a warrior of god? Was he staying because of you? Did he really love you or was that just an excuse to stay back in this world and delay going back to his own?

Because he did love you- oh, how he loved you. His love threatened to consume you whole with the way he held you like you were fragile and would break under his touch, contrasting with the way his touch would sometimes burn you when he was overwhelmed. His kisses were overflowing with emotions, a pure exhibit of his desire while holding a dark, almost sinister undertone to them when he would grip you tightly as if forgetting you were human. His whispers contained promises in a foreign language that you did not need to interpret- his vows were clear in his eyes and his possessive hold. 

His love also threatened to break you in the way that a trapped bird was scared of stepping outside its cage for the first time. It was Hwa who made you experience what being normal would have felt like, were you not bound to Seonghwa and his drug business. You experienced so many of your firsts with Hwa and it was him who showed you what a normal life could have been like- you did so much with him that you could have never done with Seonghwa. Seonghwa had only given you limited freedom and while you did not hate that, you always wished to spread your wings and fly.

Maybe you flew too close to the sun. Perhaps, that’s why you were burning both from outside and from within. Maybe you were meant to love the moon but the moon liked to hide behind the clouds so you chose the next best thing. You had to fill the void in your heart somehow, and who better to fill it than a literal divine being that wore the skin of the man you had loved your whole life?

You were the only selfish one here, but selfishness had always been your greatest weapon and you would be sure to make use of it when the time would come. For now, you were coming to terms with how Hwa and Seonghwa were also selfish for their own reasons- Hwa, because he did not want to face the consequences of his actions and Seonghwa because he simply wanted to be free and whole again. He would probably kill you once he was- it didn’t feel like a bluff anymore. 

However, there was also another hard truth about all of this, and that was that Hwa would give you up in a second for ‘the greater good’ or whatever moral code he needed to satisfy in order to please God and his fellow angels and get back to his realm if caught. You wanted to tell him that as an angel, perhaps he had sinned too much and if he ever went back, they would probably clip his wings and turn him into a fallen angel. You wanted to claw at him and make him stay with you forever simply because you could. 

And the only reason you weren’t making him stay was because Seonghwa was the one who would burn down all of this world- the heavens above and hell below- for you. It might be out of love or out of a desire to prove that you were ultimately his, a dangerous obsession, but you were his priority. And you couldn’t help but wonder what things would have been like if he had kissed you that night in the lab and finally faced his feelings for you- though a part of you wondered if his feelings for you were partly because of the angel rubbing off on him.

So it was no wonder that you were losing your mind trying to put the feelings aside and work on finding a solution to this cursed turn of events. Now that you had an objective perspective (still arguable), you were realising that the divine punishment the angel was so afraid of might only be reserved for the angel himself. Perhaps, the human would be spared from it until it was their time to die and face judgement by their creator. It made sense because there were absolutely no instances of an angel summoning ever recorded.

Demons liked to be summoned, which was why there were countless records of it. Angels were summoned by force, though. You surely were not the first person in this world who had summoned an angel but you might make a difference if you recorded this summoning. That made you wonder- was it the recording part that was the problem or were the humans involved really wiped out if they interacted with angels?

If the latter was the case, you would have faced judgement a while ago- when you summoned the angel. Surely, other angels must have heard the call too. They would have intervened when their comrade got stuck inside a human or fell in love with one. Maybe the angels only interfered to make sure no traces were left of an angel summoning- that way, Hwa’s admission of the angelic essence leaving a trace and serving as a marker would be verified. 

Whatever it was, the matter was in your hands now. So far, you had a few ideas- that you could use the angelic essence to lure the angels and face judgement- whatever it was, however it would be delivered. Chances were that only Hwa would have to face the consequences and while it broke your heart, you were sure the angels would at least wipe your memories to ensure another incident like this does not happen again. If your memories were wiped, you would not remember Hwa. That was probably the most risky route you could pick considering the angels could just kill you and Seonghwa and move on. You did not want to die just yet- at least not for Hwa. 

Another idea was to try and attempt a reverse summoning ritual, which was a very theoretical concept with no specific details and no attempts recorded. For that, you needed an anchor in the realm that the being concerned was from, and you had no such anchor. Again, you could not risk involving another angel. 

If you were the only one who could put an end to this, your resources were very limited. All you had was your drugs and your lab and-

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and the door opened to reveal Seonghwa- as soon as you met the man’s curious eyes, you knew it was Hwa instead. 

“You’ve been holed up in here for hours now,” his concerned voice said. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.”

“Ahh, but I think I was almost there,” you straightened your back and stretched your arms, producing cracks. “Or not. Nothing makes sense.”

“That’s okay,” Hwa smiled. “Maybe some fresh air and a meal will help. When you get too focused on something, it’s good to reel back and change your environment.”

“You’re right, actually,” you got up, shutting your devices but letting the books and notes stay as they were. “I’ll join you after I freshen up.”

“Great- wear a coat. We’ll go eat something outside.”

“Someone is in a good mood today,” you eyed the angel with suspicion but he only raised his hands in the air, pressing his lips in a tight line.

“You know I’m still making it up to you. After what I did- I still feel ashamed.”

You frowned at that- you knew the angel was making an effort to be better. He had apologised until you got sick of it and warned him not to. He resorted to giving you space when you wanted but also trying to make you feel better- asking you before he touched you in any way, making sure you ate your meals and weren’t pushing yourself too hard. He could finally understand why you wanted him and Seonghwa to be two separate entities and for once, he was cooperating.

Another change you had noticed was that Hwa was starting to sound a lot like Seonghwa- in his speech, and often in his mannerism. It was unnerving but you were holding yourself back from complaining, focusing all your energy on finding the answer to this.

But for now, you supposed you could take a breather. You slipped on a black overcoat over your sweats and joined Hwa in the garage, deciding to get some ramen from the convenience store. You fell in step with him, walking down the dark streets of your posh society, lit by the full moon and the streetlights, and talking about what you had learned so far- specifically about demons. He was always willing to verify your facts on that subject.

On the way back, when he offered you his hand, you smiled and took it and he proceeded to tuck your hands in his pocket, making you shake your head. 

“Have you been watching dramas, Hwa?”

“I was bored,” he went as far as to pout. “Those dramas are interesting. I’m learning a lot.”

“No wonder. You’ve been speaking casually,” you pointed out and he frowned.

“Have I?”

“Yeah, you sound like Seonghwa when he’s in a good mood,” you joked and he scoffed.

“I shall go back to the formal tone then. Perhaps you like that more?” 

“I don’t mind either way,” you grinned. “Your formal tone makes you sound a little pompous, if I’m honest.”

“Noted,” he nodded in all seriousness and you squeezed his hand as you chuckled. He glanced at you with curiosity to voice a question that had been on the tip of his tongue all along, “Did you find something worthwhile today?”

You glanced back at him, gauging his expressions. “Not really. It’s too risky if we get a third party involved, whether it's another angel or humans.”

You didn’t miss how his shoulders slightly relaxed as if he had been tense all this time. He looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath. “If you want me to help, all you have to do is ask.”

“I know,” you swallowed the bitterness his words left in your mouth and covered it with a grateful smile- the trust he had broken in admitting that he had, in fact, lied to you had still not mended. You weren’t going to show a hint of doubt because you were scared of what Hwa would do once he learned that you were willing to let him go- even if that meant letting him go forever.

So for good measure, you stood on your tiptoes to peck his cheek, trying not to break into a grin when he let out a flustered sound. He quickly recovered from it and took it as his cue to wrap his arms around your waist and bring you in for a kiss, sweet and sure. 

That was the easiest way to assure the angel that you weren’t planning something devious. There was an itch in your brain and you wanted to talk to Seonghwa before you would ever dare to attempt it. However, before that, you had to make sure the angel felt loved and safe with you- only then would he allow you to have some privacy with Seonghwa.

So you were glad the angel was still holding some guilt in his heart that was preventing him from having a heated session with you. You would rub it in his face by appearing scared or hesitant, sometimes succumbing to your own desires but keeping it restrained nonetheless- just like tonight. You had observed how the angel was especially demanding whenever you were researching on how to get Seonghwa back to normal. 

Even now, as soon as you were back in your room, he was bringing your body flush to his to kiss you deeply. You had to admit that Hwa still made your knees weak and made you give in instantly, especially the way he was taking special care to not let you burn anymore. It still happened sometimes, but not like that night in the lab when he had lost control.

And it was ironically the angel’s glowing eyes that led you to your answer, a wave of understanding washing over you as the dots started to connect in your head. You zoned out as the angel finished healing your burns, his eyes going back to normal as he caught your gaze and raised his brow in question to your surprised expressions.

“Everything good?” He asked, caressing your cheek.

“Perfect,” you smiled, hoping it didn’t look like a smirk. “Everything is perfect.”

The angel patted your cheek, checking the time. “I should let Seonghwa take over soon. If you need me, I’ll be here, okay?”

“Of course,” you assured him. “I’m just gonna wrap this up and get some sleep. I think the lack of sleep is not helping me find answers.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” Hwa laughed and you played along until he left the room. Finally realising what Archimedes must have felt when he had his own eureka moment, you rushed towards your notes- not the research material, not the history and dark arts books but your notes from the lab placed safely in a locker. 

It could work. Dr. Choi had already unintentionally worked out the logistics of it and was writing a paper on it while he worked to make his research stronger. He was thinking of possible titles and had been rambling about how he wanted to include the phrase ‘angels vs demons’ in it. You were surprised it didn’t click earlier.

You needed to tell Seonghwa- if he was willing to try it, you would reach out to Dr. Choi and work with him. 

You collected yourself and went to Seonghwa’s room, standing outside with your heart pounding uncharacteristically, about to knock when he opened the door, sucking in a breath when he found you right in front of him. 

“I was going to come to your room,” he scanned your face, frowning at the sombreness in your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s you, right? Seonghwa?” You asked cautiously and Seonghwa nodded thrice- a code to let you know that the angel was nowhere near. He let you inside and you shut the door, facing him.

“I think I’ve found the answer,” you told him in a whisper. “But it’s risky, and I’m scared to try it.”

Seonghwa rubbed his face, tiredness evident in the way his shoulders seemed to be slouching. His hand settled on his neck over the tattoo that was visible from the black pyjamas. “Every method is risky. What do you feel about this?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It could work. It’s scientific this time, I’ll tell you,” you shared a cryptic look and he understood. “No third party involved.”

“Has the time finally come?” Seonghwa joked with a faint smile on his lips. “You always said you would love to make me a lab rat one day.”

Your lips quirked in amusement and you looked sideways. “Didn’t imagine it would be this serious. I imagined it to be a prank or something. Old me would be ecstatic to learn that I get to tie you to my stretcher.”

“How kinky,” he scoffed and you shot him a glare- this was serious for you and you knew he was trying to keep the mood light for you. 

A moment of silence later, he asked, “What do I need to do?”

You leaned against the door, your hands tucked between your back and the door. Oh, how you wished you could hold him and tell him exactly what he needed to do. How you wished you could turn back time so you were back at the office insisting Seonghwa let you try angel summoning, only this time he tells you off. It was funny how meeting Hwa, the angel, was both something you never wanted to forget and something you wished you had never experienced.

It made your yearning for Seonghwa so much stronger. Perhaps, Seonghwa could feel it in the air- the words you refused to say, the actions you refused to make.  

“Say something, y/n,” he furrowed his brows much like the angel yet so different, demanding. True to Seonghwa’s nature. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Does it bother you when I look at you like that?” You asked. 

There was a feeling in your gut, strange but so very familiar. Impending doom. A sign that you might never get a moment like this again. You always trust your gut, but actually listening to it was a different subject. No wonder you were here right now.

“Don’t avoid my question,” Seonghwa folded his arms but you shook your head, waiting for an answer anyway. Seonghwa took a deep breath, the small distance between your figures not helping with the lack of clarity in his head. 

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” you repeated a phrase you had often used on him, shooting a teasing smile in his direction before letting your eyes wander around the room- anywhere away from his eyes.

“Does it bother me when you look at me like that?” Seonghwa repeated your question, grabbing your attention. “Of course it does. You look at the angel like that-”

“I’ve only ever looked at you like that, Seonghwa,” you sighed heavily. “You were just too blind to notice until you watched me from someone else’s eyes.”

Seonghwa’s heart did break at your admission. 

Having to cohabitate with another being- an angel, specifically, had made him realise quite a few things. In the beginning, it was along the lines of how he never wanted to be a ‘good’ person if the angel was the example of that. The angel was dark at its core, though it wasn’t the type of dark people used to describe humans. It was different- otherworldly and all-consuming. The angel was fighting his own demons, and Seonghwa was fine embracing his demons instead.

However, as time passed, his heart softened despite himself. It would be an excuse to say that the angel had rubbed off on him- his perspective had simply shifted because he saw you and the world from an almost omniscient point of view. While his values had not changed, he had learned the value of the people who cared for him- especially you, who always stuck with him even when he did his worst. He didn’t care if it was simply an obsession anymore- he had seen what obsession looked like through Hwa’s eyes.

Your feelings for him, and his for yours… it was something the angel could never have and Seonghwa was fucking glad about it. He may have let the angel stop him from confessing his love multiple times but if this was the last time he was going to hold you close… he would risk angering the angel. 

“Answer my question,” Seonghwa asked, his voice uncharacteristically wavering. You smiled sadly.

“All you need to do, Seonghwa, is promise that you will try to fight and that you will win. That you will stay- for yourself, for the empire you have built… for the sacrifices you made and the people you lost on the way,” you paused, your gaze falling on his tattoo. “And for me. Because I’m your weapon and you are my shield, and I cannot navigate this world without your protection.”

“I thought you hated how protective I was,” Seonghwa’s lips started curling into a smile, his eyes twinkling with energy as he stepped closer. “I made you a warrior, y/n. If anything happens to me, I trust you to continue my legacy-”

“You made me a warrior, Seonghwa, but I’m tired of this battle,” you declared, an angry streak in your voice. “Nothing will happen to you. I- I will make sure of that. You just have to stay strong and fight.”

“Even if I’m afraid of the unknown?” Seonghwa inquired, placing his hands on your shoulders and caressing the bare skin of your neck.

“The Seonghwa I love isn’t afraid of the unknown,” you reminded him and he locked eyes with you. “He’s afraid of… what was it? Hurting me? Watching me love what hurts me-”

“Sweetheart,” Seonghwa warned, shaking his head but you laughed out loud, curling your hands around his wrists and holding his hands like he had held yours at the lab.

“Seeing burn marks on my hands?” You teased. “How sweet. Afraid of losing me- how romantic, Park Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa glared at you, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Kind of regret saying that. If I had known you would hold that over me-”

“I’m holding that over you,” you gently interjected, “so you know that you won’t have to be afraid of anything when you come back.”

Seonghwa looked down at your linked hands, taking a few deep breaths and nodding slowly not only because you were right but also because he had learnt another lesson- that it was okay to love someone. Loving someone didn’t always result in losing them. After his friend Hongjoong’s death, he had grown so cold towards you, pushing you and his feelings for you away, tucking them in the deepest corner of his heart. He was lucky you never gave up on him and made him realise that loving someone wasn’t a weakness but a strength.

A reason for him to fight back against the angel. A real reason, not the materialistic ones- he could build an empire again if he had to, but he could not risk losing you. 

“You’re the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Seonghwa looked at you, watching your lips curl into a smirk. “You devil.”

“Yeah, well,” you took one step closer, looking up at him, daring him to say more. “You’re still here, so.”

Seonghwa stared at you challengingly, a smirk growing on his own lips as he crowded your personal space until your back was against the door. You didn’t shy away, the tension in the air so thick you could feel it caressing your skin along with Seonghwa’s fingers that danced against your collarbone, travelling up the slope of your neck to swipe at your parted lips, his gaze stuck right there. 

“Don’t you ever get enough?” He finally asked what had been bothering him the most. How could you use him to satisfy yourself? Sure, maybe you liked the angel, but he would bet his life that it wasn’t the only reason. 

“It isn’t you,” you simply answered. “It’s so different. I thought it’d be the same, but by then, it was too late, and now-”

Seonghwa put a finger on your lips to shush you- even though the angel was still dormant, he already knew what you were going to say.

And when you puckered your lips against his finger to kiss it, he wished the angel would die and never come back. He leaned in hurriedly, stopping right as your noses brushed, eliciting a gasp from your mouth. 

“When are you doing it?” He asked, referring to your plan.

“Tonight,” you whispered in response, joining your foreheads and nudging his nose affectionately. “I can’t risk him finding out. Keep him at bay tonight, please.”

“If I don’t lose my mind,” Seonghwa whispered, brushing his lips against yours and tightening his grip around your waist. Craning your neck, he brought you in for the long overdue kiss, soft but strong, making your legs go weak and your arms go around his shoulders for support. He drew back to drink your expressions before diving right back in, this time unhurried but demanding, groaning with pleasure in between. When his tongue swiped your lips, you gladly opened your mouth for him, losing yourself in the overwhelming feelings of the love of your life finally caving in to you.

Not once did the angel cross your mind- not when Seonghwa kissed you softly, not when he held you like you would break, and certainly not when he let his desire fuel him as things heated up. You were soon shifted to the bed, Seonghwa promising you that he would make the most of tonight, apologising (for once) for not doing this earlier, holding on to your word when you assured him that you would somehow make this work and set him free. 

You let his touch burn you in a way the angel’s had never- searing passion as opposed to a warning. You let your hands run through his hair without a worry, and let his hair tickle your bare skin as he shed the clothes off you. You let him obsess over you and lose control without the fear of getting hurt- yes, Seonghwa could hurt you in ways no one could but he would never hurt you like the angel had. Seonghwa let his desperation and emotions get the better of him tonight, feeling a sense of relief when he was finally one with you.

And only when you spotted the rays of the sun peak through the curtains, having spent all night in his arms, did you move away from his half asleep body to grab something. He peeked up and you smiled, snuggling into his body once again and sharing one last kiss, whispering confessions to each other. You hugged him after, letting your breathing synchronise with his and memorising the feeling.

And then you injected the tranquilliser into his neck, whispering sweet nothings and peppering kisses on his skin until he lost consciousness.

You had been with Seonghwa in the restricted section in the basement of your lab a few times. 

Most of the time, he turned up there because he could not reach you- you had a habit of forgetting that time was an actual flowing thing and it did not stop still when you were in a certain headspace- which was experimenting with live subjects. He would watch you from the window, shaking his head at the monster he had created while his heart would simultaneously swell with pride. He would wait until you took a breather and knock on the window to get your attention.

A few times, you brought him to that section yourself, updating him on your progress. One thing you liked about Seonghwa was that he may not be the brains behind your drug production but he was fully involved in it, making note of whatever you needed and making sure you were safe here. He liked to be aware of whatever was going on as well.

However, never did you imagine that he would be your next test subject, tied to the stretcher and looking paler in the harsh white lights that lit up the room. He lay unconscious while you monitored his vitals and made sure the demonic essence being administered to him was not overpowering or harmful in any way other than expelling the angel. 

You had a theory that the demonic essence could cancel every ‘impurity’ in the body to dominate as the only ‘impure’ or foreign object in the host. While working on this theory with Dr. Choi a few months ago, before you had ever summoned the angel, you had conducted an autopsy on your test subjects who had died because of the demonic drug. You noted that some of them who had underlying conditions and defects prior to overdose no longer had any defects in their body after death. It was as if the demonic drug had ‘healed’ them first before taking the spot for the sole cause of their death. A true parasitic drug, fighting for dominance to take over its host.

And if it were a demon against an angel… who would win? 

You were hoping that the angel would be expelled from Seonghwa’s body, which would be the best outcome. You would quickly have to inject the angelic essence in Seonghwa’s body at that point to cancel the demonic essence- Dr. Choi and you had worked on it when you put Seonghwa in a comatose state, testing what amount of angelic essence was required to cancel out the demonic one.

In the worst case scenario though, one of them- or both- would die. According to Seonghwa, the angel was already eating away at his soul and it was a struggle for him to continue cohabitating in one body. The angel was powerful and stubborn. It wouldn’t give up so easily, so you would just have to pray that your plan would work and end well for all of you. This was your last and only resort. 

Seonghwa’s body had started shaking a while ago, presumably when the battle between the angel and the demon began. You were constantly wiping sweat from his body and adjusting the drip, sometimes giving in and squeezing his hand as if to assure both Seonghwa and Hwa that you were here and that you were sorry for doing this to them. As more time passed, his body started to tremble fiercely and you tightened the clasps on his wrists and arms, not sure if they would be able to withhold. 

With the damned book that brought the angel to your world resting against Seonghwa’s chest and the holy sword in one hand- tip soaked in wine but not ablaze- you started reading the section of the scripture that contained the angel’s name, Seonghwa’s eyes fluttering open when you repeated it for the third time.

“Hwa?” You asked cautiously, glancing at Dr. Choi who stood near you with the angelic essence vial in one hand and a lighter in the other. You squeezed his limp hand, making him look at you.

“Why did you call me?” He asked, tone as sombre as the first day he saw you. “What are you doing- what is happening?”

“You have to leave this body, angel,” you wiped the tear that rolled down his face. “Go back to your realm for now- just leave-”

You paused when he squeezed his eyes shut, your words eliciting a deep, pained groan out of his mouth. Dr. Choi recognised your signal and set the tip of the sword on fire and the two of you held its hilt, hoping the angel would not possess one of you if it exited the body. You checked the monitor- Seonghwa’s vitals were starting to drop which meant the demonic essence must be working with full force on his body now.

You took the angelic essence vial from the doctor and clutched it in your fist, moving to whisper in Seonghwa’s ear, calling Seonghwa’s name and reminding him of his promise- you have to come back. You have to fight back- you are my shield and I am your weapon, and I am fighting for you. I cannot navigate this world without your protection.

You did not know if it was Seonghwa or Hwa who turned his face so his lips met your cheeks, a confession and a promise tumbling from his mouth. You looked up to meet his eyes but he shut them and fell still. 

Muttering a prayer to any deity who was listening, you poured the contents of the vial in Seonghwa’s mouth, Dr. Choi’s hand on your shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. The sound of your sniffles and the crackling of fire was the only sound in the room for a few minutes before Seonghwa sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes opened- unglowing. 

“Seonghwa,” you breathed, holding your breath as you handed the sword to Dr. Choi and moved to cup his face, checking the vitals on the monitor before turning your full attention to him. He was already looking at you with a dazed look and you locked eyes with him, waiting for his touch to burn you as you caressed his hair, but nothing happened.

You were okay.

“Seonghwa?” You asked cautiously again. “It’s you, right? Tell me it’s you, please.”

Seonghwa gulped, his mouth awfully dry but he managed to move his head in a nod and the wave of exhaustion finally caught up to you, making your legs go weak as you slumped against his body, resting your head on his chest to catch your breath. Dr. Choi moved around and did the work, untying Seonghwa’s limbs and making sure he was responsive, taking some bloodwork and checking to see if there was anything amiss.

“There are still remainders of both the demonic essence and angelic essence in his body,” he said as he observed the blood. “But I think we’ve done what we could have. It will take a while for him to recover so we can continue to monitor him-”

“I’m fine,” Seonghwa insisted and you stifled a grin, looking up at him. “I’m done being the lab rat.”

Dr. Choi smiled. “Welcome back, Sir.”

Seonghwa shot a glare in his direction as he shifted into a sitting position, ignoring his chuckles and looking at you.

“What did you do?”

“Tried to expel the angel out of your body,” you linked your hands and he squeezed them. “It’s… happened, right? Can you feel him anywhere?”

“Not really,” he scratched the back of his neck, thinking. “This could have gone wrong.”

“Obviously. It could have gone very wrong,” you shuddered at the thought. “But I had to take a chance. Hwa was taking over your consciousness with each passing day, and as much as I loved the angel, I couldn’t let him do that to you.”

Seonghwa regarded your expressions, nodding. “And what if the angel ended up taking over?”

You pursed your lips and shrugged. “I think he would have probably killed me for hiding everything from him. I was prepared for that too-” you looked at your side where the sword now stood in the bucket, the fire doused. 

“Anyways, the important thing is that you’re back, Seonghwa,” you smiled wholeheartedly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Seonghwa smiled back though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. He kissed the back of your hand before letting you go, watching your body move with a newfound energy as you wrapped up everything in the lab, asking Dr. Choi to get some rest as well. 

Once back at home, having washed up and eaten a hearty meal, you took Seonghwa to his room and held his hands, locking eyes with him. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, scanning his face.

“Just tired, and you know how there’s still the after effects,” Seonghwa muttered, sighing. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re angry at me, now is the time to take it out,” you teased. “Though you knew very well what you were getting into.”

“I’m not,” he scoffed, amused. “Well, I am but not because of this,” he corrected. “But I think I’ve learned to let the anger go now. There’s a reason for everything that happens, and for the decisions we make.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Looks like Hwa’s still inside you.”

“What?”

“There’s no way you said that,” you teased, “You don’t compromise to understand other people- you do what you want.”

“Yeah, well,” Seonghwa shrugged. “The angel must have rubbed off on me.”

You smiled and Seonghwa noted the weariness in your eyes. “Will you… miss the angel?”

“I will… of course I will,” you admitted, looking sideways. “I just hope he’s okay. Can you tell what happened to him? Did he get out or… did he get hurt?”

“He got hurt,” Seonghwa confirmed and you pressed your lips, taking a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t think he made it, y/n. I can’t tell for sure right now, but it’s not looking good.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands and he moved to embrace you. There were no tears left to cry. You simply clutched onto him and let him calm you down. He let go with a kiss to your forehead.

“Everything will be okay,” he promised and you nodded.

Everything was going to be okay.

“Love, can you hand me the cinnamon powder?” Seonghwa asked, far too focused on the plating of his latest creation even though you were going to devour it in seconds. You told him exactly that as he sprinkled some on the pancakes, making sure the strawberries were set before drizzling chocolate over them. 

“Perfect,” his eyes twinkled with the sort of gleam you used to see only when he was about to take someone’s life.

How the tables had turned.

“It’s just breakfast, Seonghwa, it doesn’t have to be that serious-”

“Shh,” he waved a hand in dismissal. “We need a good meal to be in good spirits. And then we can go and shed some blood- Assemblyman Hwang should not have used street gangs to try to expose our network.”

You shook your head, agreeing, but still amused as you watched him pour the freshly blended fruit juice into your glasses.

“Now eat,” he ordered and you bowed mockingly with a ‘yessir’ before you dived in.

The angel had definitely rubbed off on Seonghwa, because there was no other explanation to this. Soon after Seonghwa recovered, he was back to business, making new deals and expanding his network further as if he had some newfound energy- or perhaps, he was making up for the lost time. Whatever it was, you wouldn’t be complaining- you were simply glad that he was back. 

Though he was a bit different. Gentler, yet still very Seonghwa with his demanding personality. He also picked up cooking, reminding you of your teenage days when he used to make whatever he could with whatever you had at disposal. He was always creative with his meals, but now, his creative freedom was almost surprising. 

Park Seonghwa was back, but a changed man. Still insanely evil at the very core, still driven by his blood thirst and hunger for power. Maybe he had changed only where it concerned you- more welcoming towards you, more understanding of your actions, and so, so loving. His love was as gentle as the angel at times, and as fierce as Seonghwa’s devotion. Sometimes, you were reminded of Hwa- it was a given when they had worn the same skin. 

But your Seonghwa was still very human. And that was all that mattered. His love did not burn you and he did not fear anyone. 

You finished your meals and went to get ready to go out with him- he was letting you accompany him to his ‘little outings’ more and though he wasn’t getting his hands dirty most of the time, the lackeys doing that for him, he still liked going out in the field himself every once in a while. Today was one of those days and you went to your own room to arm yourself.

Seonghwa got ready first, waiting for you in the lobby, staring at the holy sword that was now a showpiece, perched on one of the walls. He felt almost compelled to trace the hilt of the sword, daring to touch the blade that was capable of harming angels, and with a little shriek he drew his hand back, the tips of his fingers an angry red, burned by the sword.

Seonghwa cursed under his breath, moving to the kitchen for some privacy before muttering the prayer he had said for aeons now, allowing his fingertips to heal. He caught his reflection on the glossy material of the fridge, his pupils glowing and he shut them, taking a few deep breaths to get his powers under control.

He heard the faint thumps of your footsteps as you came downstairs and he fixed his posture and his expressions to mimic Seonghwa before he stepped out of the kitchen, nodding in approval when you showed him your weapons before following you outside. 

He let you call you by the name of the human that he was not, and he willingly played along, letting you think that your beloved human had defeated the angel when that was not the case at all. Your beloved human was gone.

Good and evil must coexist in order to survive. But sometimes, the good becomes the evil and the evil becomes the good- they were never meant to balance each other. 

It was only a matter of which one would weigh more and tip the scale in its favour.

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