Write-here-n-now - Writing For You

What to do when you've crossed a line?

C.(S). Jeonghan x Reader | WC. 1367 | G. Angst| Pt. 4/? |

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The door shuts with a bang as you lean against it, catching your breath. 

With your eyes closed, you remember his face. 

Tired. Exhausted. Relieved. Concerned. Shocked. Emotion painted on in a blend of colours, hanging to each crease of his brow and lips.

He was a mess, more so than you’ve ever seen him

Why were you feeling concerned for his well-being? If anything, you should worry about yourself. Four days and the place you had to see him was on campus after things had been running relatively smoothly all day. Turning your head to the side, your sights fell on the bag you had made this morning—all your tangible memories stuffed in that 23 by 64-inch bag. 

You turn your body and move closer to it. Untying the double knot of the black bag, you pull out a figure of Wall-E made out of Lego, Jeonghan having the other half, Eve.  

You had started building Legos together as a joke to escape the stress of finals and the impending assignment deadlines two semesters ago which became a designated stress reliever, finals or not, you would scour the internet and save up for sets that you both liked.

“You’re doing it wrong, that’s not how the piece fits” “It’s literally what the instruction shows” “No no! That’s not the right piece”

The first Lego set you brought home had no one set design, just a wide range of pieces and instructions to make whatever you wanted but it seemed that you both found it funny to insult the creation the other wanted to make causing you to bicker over every attempt to build something together.

It was worse when you bought a more complicated set from your favourite series The Lord of the Rings—a Rivendell set. Figuring out the intricate details and piecing together the entire design put the two of you on each other’s nerves. It got so bad that you had to cool off in separate rooms and when you came back, Jeonghan sat back just watching you complete the set to avoid more fighting.  

You learned you two couldn’t build together unless you were working on completely different sets which prompted you two to buy multiple Lego sets so you could parallel play like children on the living room floor.

Long hours of just making your designated Lego set, music on low volume in the background, snacks at your side and you would find yourself looking over to see him completely focused on his piece without another care in the world. You caught yourself often, in those times, letting your gaze linger to his figure for just a while longer, turning away before he had the chance to meet your eyes.

Placing the Lego Wall-E on the floor you reach in to find a hoodie, navy blue with “MARK THE MOMENT” printed on the front.

On a seemingly clear spring day, the two of you headed out near his apartment to build a stash of snacks to sustain the two of you for a movie marathon that weekend, a celebration for finishing midterms.

Walking into the shop with blue skies, you two emerged with a heavy downpour. Had you thought of potential weather uncertainty, you would’ve worn a thicker or even full-sleeved t-shirt. Jeonghan had been more prepared, wearing that same navy hoodie you clutched in your hands, as he held the bags of your store haul.

Ready to make a run for it, he turns to you. Doubt and concern sported on your face.

Placing the bags in his hands on the ground, he begins to shed himself of his hoodie. Passing it over to you once it's off. Despite himself in just a t-shirt he urges you to put on his hoodies.

“Don’t argue, I’ll be fine” “You’ll get wet though” “We both will, but you have more to lose with the thin shirt you have on,”

Wanting to get home faster, and the rain clearly not willing to let up any time soon, you throw on the hoodie.

“We run on 3” he beams, picking the bags back up but this time both in one hand.”1….2……3!”

You don’t expect him to tuck his hand into yours and pull you forward, beginning your race against the overcast to his apartment.

It's then, the two of you soaked, laughing and running against the rain, you feel your heart flutter. It had been doing that for a little while these days, but only when you found your gaze settled on your best friend. His smile, contagious and his laugh ringing in your ear like a symphony, everyone else? Background noise. Nobody, nothing, mattered more than his hand in yours, pulling you in a frenzy through the streets desperate to seek shelter, despite water reaching your skin a sharp contrast to the heat and fuzzy feeling creeping across your entire body.

Continuing your journey through memory lane, you pull a stack of polaroids and one of your old disposable cameras—one which was yet to be developed.

Polaroids, some blurry, others confusing without context but one in particular, a haphazardly taken selfie from last summer. Staring straight into the camera, Jeonghan’s arm reaches around your head, as his hand grabs the underside of your face, pushing together your cheeks, giggling at your dismay. He snapped a picture before you could get away from his grasp. Your eyes shut, lips both frowning and pouting and his hand smushing your cheeks together like you were a child.

You stare at the picture a bit longer, wishing to go back to summer, a time in which your worries had all but disappeared, it was just you and him.

You dig around the bag until you find what you’re looking for. The beanie. Brown and now a bit worn due to use.

Whenever the colder season began, it would be the perfect weather for hats and beanies in the morning but by lunchtime, Jeongan’s beanies would either be in your bag or lazily stuffed in one of his pockets, much too hot to put on his head. It would be one of the things he would leave around your home and so you would often collect them and deliver them back before he had the chance to complain about how his hats seemed to be disappearing.

This particular beanie was a gift, from him to you, though it ended up as a shared article of clothing. Pulling it off each other’s head to sport it on your own was a childish game you enjoyed partaking in. Despite a million times you fought to wear the beanie, your fondest memory was tied to a bittersweet day. An exam that particularly seemed to disrupt your academic career ended in a less-than-ideal conclusion. You held it in all day, but the minute you saw him, all bets were off, one question was all it took for you to start bawling in the middle of the library.

Unable to understand your sudden outburst and concern for you, he pulls off the brown beanie, sticking it over your head and pulling down the sides over your eyes, concealing your sorrow from the world. The suddenness of his actions startled you, your crying abruptly cut short during his ministrations to straighten the beanie on your head. Now silent, you sat across from him contemplating the situation.

“Wow…I didn’t think that would work…” “…why…did you do..that?” you ask, sniffing, still blinded by the fabric constricting your view.

He shrugs to an imaginary audience, forgetting that you can’t see him.

“Hold on stay like that, I’m gonna take a picture," he explains before giving you a proper explanation of his thought process.

Face red, tears drying on your cheeks, beanie pulled too far down, your lips a thin line, the profile picture he still kept as your contact.

You laugh at the ridiculous memory, which despite your best tries, turns into tears, once again crying over how messed up everything has become.

You can’t rid yourself of these items, just like you can’t throw away your feelings. Each and every memory tattooed to the depths of your mind, how would you remove those?

What to do when you've crossed a line?

C.(S). Jeonghan x Reader | WC. 938 | G. Angst| Pt. 2/? |

Part 1 | Part 3

Too anxious to wait for the lift, you sprint to your 4th-floor home, fumbling the code to the door before finally getting inside, and slamming it behind you. 

All the emotions you’ve held in the entire evening, especially since you confessed to your best friend and perhaps since you even realized your feelings, begin to pour out. 

Choked sobs escape your throat and you sink to your knees. 

You didn’t want things to unfold this way if you only could have kept your jealousy at bay, one. last. time. None of this would have erupted the way it did if you kept your cool.

Picking yourself off the floor, you lug your body over to the couch falling face-first onto the cushions, resuming your personal pity party.

Eventually, your cries die down and you drift off to sleep, still in your clothes from the party, tears staining your cushions with the hues of your blush and mascara.

Each passing hour makes your heartache, the pain resonating in your entire body, exhausting you to the point where you can’t seem to do much else than sit up or lie down.

Three days pass without so much as a text much less a physical appearance from Jeonghan. Your friends, on the other hand, have been ringing non-stop a few even going so far as to visit your apartment to get you to eat and do more than just mope around in your sorrow.

On the fourth day, you’ve had enough. You wipe your tears and take a shower, hoping the water will drain away your sorrows and if not, at least just the fatigue you’ve felt the past half of the week. Making a mission to begin getting over him, he didn’t care about your feelings so why waste any more tears.

The best way to forget someone is to remove them from your life. You walk around your apartment looking for all and signs of your friendship with Jeonghan, angrily grabbing any small knick-knack and article of clothing he’s left in your apartment and chucking it into a plastic garbage bag to rid of just like he seemed to be the past four days.

With the last of one of his stupid gifts put on top of the pile in the bag, you tie a few knots and lug the bag near your door as a reminder to throw it out.

The days you spent moping around didn’t make the world stop meaning you had also missed a few lectures by the plethora of text messages from your friends and groupmates concerned at your lack of attendance. You couldn’t afford to miss any more days so after ridding your home of any reminders of your crush, you went off to get dressed and presentable to make your long-awaited appearance on campus. Praying you can mask your sadness long enough to avoid any questions about you being MIA the last few days.

You had texted your best friend Jisoo letting her know of your plans and she so kindly offered to walk with you to your shared class.

“You look…” she started, giving you a once over the minute you walked out of the building entrance. “Not a word,” you warned, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty of why you looked as you did.

You tried to put in effort, dressing in something comfortable but also stylish. Maybe in due time your brain would conflate how you were dressed to remedy your sour mood today.

The day had mostly been without a hiccup, you pushed your feelings to the back of your mind and dived right into your studies, catching up with the missed lectures and offering apology coffee and snacks to the groupmates you left in the dark, maybe everything would be okay.

Walking to the library your friend mentions what you’ve been avoiding nearly all day.

“So you and Jeonghan…? What happened?”

You feel your stomach coil at the mention of his name. The noise and rush around you warping into slow motion.

Jeonghan Jeonghan Jeonghan. His name repeated in your head like a chant, the drumming of his name vibrating across your entire body.

Your brain couldn’t process whether you should snap at your friend for speaking his name or break down in tears over the recollection the events of several nights prior, where you effectively ruined your well-built friendship in the heat of the moment and the man of your affection didn’t even bother to reach out the past week.

Speak of the devil it seems because as you tried to find the words to explain your conundrum, he appeared.

“Y/N!”

Eyes shoot up to meet the pair that you’ve secretly been longing to see despite trying to delude yourself into thinking you couldn't care less about him.

He looked dishevelled. Hair messy, clothes crumpled, and wrinkly, and dark circles painted under his eyes. Making his way towards you, frantic and in a rush, pushing past everyone in his way. 

The face you’ve so longed to see, but couldn't bear to face. The closer his steps marched towards you, the more you panicked until your body had enough and ignited your fight or flight response. You turn and bolt, away from your friend, but more importantly away from facing your fears, one more time.

Sprinting as fast as your feet can carry you, books in hand, bag swinging viciously on your side, weaving through the crowd of people, you find yourself headed on a similar path as “that” night, your home your safe space.

One day you’ll regret it, perhaps it’s today

C.(S). Han x Reader | WC. 589 | G. Angst|

Goodbyes have always come easier to you, after all, you seem to be saying them all the time.

There were very few people in your life that you felt a deep connection with, ones that weren’t related to your blood. And the most important of them all?

Han Jisung

He wasn’t just a somebody. He was your everything.

As beautiful as your life became with him, sometimes people are forced to do the cruellest things to those they love.

He was perfect, in your eyes, from the way he smiled to the way he cried. Not a single flaw you could locate.

So why did you decide to rip the heart out of the love of your life and shatter it without a bat of an eye?

Truthfully, no reason would ever be good enough or could be enough. You didn’t just make a mistake, you fucked up in every possible sense and you wouldn't see it until it was too late.

    “Why!? Why are you doing this?”

He was off the couch, kneeling in front of you. His eyes stare up at yours, begging for you to look inside them just once.

     “We can’t be together Jisung, I don’...CAN'T hold you back anymore.”

Bullshit. You internally cringed and cursed yourself for the lies that spilled out.

He stood up in disbelief, the tears drying on his face as he felt a surge of anger from your words.

   “So you’re just willing to give up on us? You think you’re holding me back?”

He was angry and hurt but more importantly, he was breaking. Your fight was nearing the end and you knew a few more blows would be enough for him to hate and resent you for life.

Standing up, you turn your head to meet his eyes. Eyes filled with so many questions and pain that you have to remind yourself of your true intentions.

    “Goodbye Han Jisung I wish you the best.”

Using his full name? How could you already be so cold?

Wish him the best? How could the person he could give his life for say goodbye to him as if they were strangers?

You start to walk away but his arm quickly reaches out to grab your elbow.

    “You can’t break my heart like this!”

His voice cracks and his anger melts away, now only his initial desperation and heartbreak remain.

You don't look into his eyes this time, looking straight ahead towards the door.

     “It's over Jisung, let me go," you breathe out. Utterly defeated yourself.

There was no use stopping you. Realization hit him, you had already made up your mind so who was he to stop you now?

You feel his release on your elbow, allowing you to proceed with your steps to the door.

Walking towards the door, you pick up the bag you had previously situated near the entrance, the catalyst to the end.

As you open the door to walk out, you start to turn and look at him one last time, but stop yourself.

With your back turned, you whisper a small “I love you” and continue out. 

You never imagined this day would come, but it had and you had made your bed so now you would be the one to lie in it.

Goodbyes were always easy for you, but this one had left you hollow, something that could quite never be filled. Not that you deserved that courtesy after tearing apart the man you kept awake countless nights with your false promises. 

Small acts of love from skz

Chan, who sneaks into your bathroom while you're taking a shower just to trace hearts onto the steam-covered mirror.

Minho, who hides love letters in random areas of the house while he's away, so when you open your vanity at 6 o'clock in the morning, you’ll remember just how beautiful you are.

Changbin, who gets sloshed at a boys’ night out and does nothing but gush about you until the guys want to pull their hair out.

Hyunjin, who creates a portrait of you in your rawest form, the strokes of the paint reflecting the very essence of your soul, every edge and curve perfectly represented on the canvas.

Han, who hides messages in every song he produces, from simple I love you's to metaphors you both came up with during your late-night conversations.

Felix, who will actually wither away if he doesn't fold an origami heart out of every gum wrapper he receives and give it to you.

Seungmin, who bought you a bouquet once for your one-year anniversary and now refuses to let them die, buying you a new bouquet as soon as the other ones show any signs of wilting.

Jeongin, who just happens to know all the books you want to read and coincidentally has a notated version of all of them (totally not because he stalked your Goodreads profile and spent half his paycheck at Books-A-Million, annotating reading them every night before he goes to bed).

Liked this? Read my new story here

Stay tuned to read the drabble version of all of these ;)

crimson white snow

content: seongjoong x gn! reader, angst, soulmate au, hanahaki au. warnings: profanities, descriptions of throwing up, mention of blood.

summary: when your best friends are each other’s soulmates, how do you tell them that your red string is tied to both of their pinkies?

word count: 4.3k words

note: this initial idea came to me in 2021 and i let it collecting dust until a few days ago lol. i hope you guys enjoy this one!

in a friendship– a trio, specifically, you believed that each person represented either the sun, moon, or stars.

in your case, seonghwa was the sun, hongjoong was the moon, and you were the stars. the three, inseparable friends who loved each other more than anyone else to ever breathe on earth.

but when they all turned sixteen and were blessed with the gift of the sight of their red strings, everything changed.

when seonghwa looked down at his ring finger, candles blown out, he found the red string to be very much shorter than he expected. as his eyes trailed down the string, he looked up at hongjoong, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

that’s when you all knew.

hongjoong’s birthday came around, and the sight of his red string connected to seonghwa relieved him. there was a sort of euphoria and satisfaction that filled them both. unspoken feelings that had blossomed into something more were now affirmed by the universe itself.

you, of course, were elated. the two boys you’d considered your best friends for years were soulmates. their souls were intertwined, bound to love each other for eternity. the twinge of jealousy in your heart was quickly ignored as you celebrated their love, congratulating the two.

most, would call it fate.

but your birthday confirmed that whatever god there was had made a mistake. a very horribly, big mistake.

it was snowing.

you remember because hongjoong was flushed when he came in your room. he only turned red– both cheeks and ears, when he was embarrassed or cold.

he sighed, promptly making himself at home. laying on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath tickled your ear. you shivered, your grip on his hand tightening promptly. he didn’t mind. hongjoong liked holding your hands strangely enough.

“i know it’s your birthday,” hongjoong mumbled, snuggling against you. “but you’ll indulge me for a bit, yeah?” he asks as you chuckle.

“of course, joong. anything for you.”

the boy hums in satisfaction, letting out a soft sigh. he shuts his eyes, mumbling about how seonghwa was late because he got delayed at his club, or something along those lines.

you hum in acknowledgement, knowing that your other friend was definitely getting you a cake. you’d overheard the two discussing it a week prior.

the soft footsteps that grew closer alerted you of seonghwa’s arrival. it was funny– while hwa was indeed very quiet, the sound of his socks against your wooden floor was unmistakable.

hongjoong yawned, sitting up. the soft knock you anticipated came as you chuckled. “come in, hwa.”

the sight of seonghwa pouting as he entered made you laugh even harder. “how’d you know it was me?” he asked, carefully balancing the cake box as he closed the door. “it was joong, wasn’t it?”

“hey man, i didn’t say anything,” he raised his hands, proclaiming his innocence.

“you both aren’t that slick, you know,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. seonghwa laughs at your reaction, putting a smile on your face.

“humour us, sweetheart?”

you pretend to contemplate, humming as joong cackled beside you. “hmm, i’ll cut you both some slack,” you announce. hwa rolls his eyes, but the grin on his face speaks volumes.

turning your attention to the box, you watch as seonghwa opens it, taking out the most beautiful cake you had ever seen. “oh my god,” you marvelled at the sight of it.

the heart-shaped cake was pure white, similar to the snow that fluttered down outside. the crimson red icing that decorated he cake made you smile. it was a beautiful cake, an image that would be etched into your memory forever.

“this is beautiful, seonghwa,” you whisper, glancing up at him. “thank you.”

he smiles back, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “anything for you sweetheart. we know how much you’ve been waiting for this day.”

you sat in front of your cake, hongjoong and seonghwa across you with the biggest smiles on their face. blowing the candles out, you look down at your hands, filled with excitement. finally, it was your turn to find out who your soulmate was. however, when you look down, you are stunned.

to your complete and utter horror, you see two strings tied around each of your pinkies.

eyes gazing down at the crimson red string, you nearly choke on air when you see one end tied to seonghwa’s pinky, while the other, was neatly wrapped around hongjoong’s.

“what’s wrong?”

seonghwa’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts. you felt sick to your stomach. oh, how cruel the universe was. how cruel fate was.

“i- i… what the fuck?” you whisper harshly, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes. “i don’t have a string,” you lie so easily, straight through your teeth. “i don’t have a soulmate.” you lied so well.

that was the first lie you ever told the two, but there was no guilt in the lie. all you could feel was confusion and anger. nothing else.

hongjoong takes your hands into his with a sad smile. “and that’s completely fine, y/n. we’re always here for you,” he reassures you calmly. seonghwa does the same and you feel like crying even harder as you see your strings tangle.

you relished in their touch, their fingers feel so soft, skin warm against your cold hands. you felt safe in their presence, the comforting aura they let out never failing to make you smile. it was bittersweet.

if only you didn’t detest the sight of the red strings around their pinkies. the crimson red thread, a painful reminder to you that this was a reality you couldn’t escape.

there were always myths about the poor souls that the universe decided to curse: the one’s with no soulmates.

if people with no soulmates were cursed by the universe, how about the one’s with two? how about the one’s whose soulmates were each other’s forever, but not theirs? how about you?

you didn’t know.

so you left.

after graduating, you moved overseas. of course the two were there to wish you goodbye. being friends for thirteen years made it harder for you to leave.

you chuckled as seonghwa engulfed you in a tight hug, his tears soaking into your jacket. “don’t cry,” you whisper, stroking his head as hongjoong holds back his own tears, lips trembling. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

that was the second lie you ever told them, but there was no guilt in the lie. all you could feel was pity and self-hatred. nothing else.

you started a new life for yourself, burying yourself in studies, jobs and everything you could imagine to avoid going home.

despite all that, you never felt satisfied. there was this hole inside your heart that couldn’t be filled with materialistic goods, academic achievements nor work-place success.

there was nothing that could fill that hole seonghwa and hongjoong once occupied in your heart.

another problem had presented itself through all that turmoil, however, and that was the disease of unrequited love everyone so detested.

one would certainly think flowers were a congratulatory gift .

it started as a tightening feeling in your chest. your once light pants turn into desperate gasps for air before a sick, nauseous feeling takes over. a pounding headache, blurry vision, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes before the most sickening feeling begins to build in the pit of your stomach.

it grows and grows, bubbling like a cauldron before exploding, petals flying out of your mouth. elegantly prancing through the air, crimson red blood dripped off the petals, staining the pure white marble floor. the feeling would go on for another half an hour, or even longer. all you knew was that you wanted it to stop.

years passed, and yet, you could never grow accustomed to the wretched, metallic taste that lingered fervently on the tip of your tongue.

lilies and black dahlias now littered your bathroom floor, the once white marble tiles now painted in a mix of white, black, and crimson red.

still, you told nobody. your friends, family, coworkers– none of them knew about what you were going through.

god forbid hongjoong and seonghwa find out.

on a cold winter’s night, you had gotten an unexpected call from the two. five years had passed and not once had you gone back to see them.

guilt haunted you, always hovering around and never truly leaving. you wanted to see them. you wanted so desperately to throw yourself into their arms and never let them go them. if you were to loosen your grip, perhaps they’d slip through the cracks of your grasp and fade into nothingness.

you wanted to keep hongjoong and seonghwa for youself forever, but you were a fucking coward.

your phone rang. you had propped it up against the potted plant (orchids, your favourite) in the middle of your dining table. the plate of pasta in front of you was warm when you clicked your screen to receive their call.

“hi guys, sorry i’ve been so busy, work’s been crazy!” you immediately spew an apology to your friends, twirling the pasta with your fork. their lack of response has you confused and you look up. a loud gasp escapes you, fork clattering against the ceramic plate as it slipped out of your grasp.

“what the fuck?”

seonghwa’s ring finger is adorned with a beautiful sapphire stone, simple yet utterly gorgeous. the grin on both of their faces has you gaping at them, utterly speechless.

“you- you’re?” your gaze switches between the two males. you were so shocked you didn’t even realise seonghwa had bleached his hair. you were so shocked you didn’t even realise the tears that began to roll down your flushed cheeks.

“oh, no, y/n,” seonghwa coos with a frown. “don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispers. “don’t cry.”

you sob, desperately trying to wipe the tears away. “i’m sorry, oh my god,” you inhale a sharp breath. “i’m so happy for you both– congratulations!” you smile, trying to hold back the building feeling in your chest.

seonghwa’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes soften. “thank you darling,” he whispers with a sad smile. “you were the first person we thought of telling, y’know?” he chuckles softly.

god, seonghwa looked so beautiful smiling. you always loved how rosy his cheeks were, his eyes scrunched into the crescent moon. seonghwa’s smile was radiant, shining even brighter than the sun itself.

hongjoong takes the phone, eyes twinkling under the night sky. you recognised his apartment’s balcony all too well. “come home, y/n,” he says softly. it’s the most tender you’ve ever heard him. “come home for us please?”

your heart breaks. you’d never heard hongjoong so desperate. he was longing, yearning for you. he was pleading for you to come home– how could you refuse the request of your soulmate?

“of course, joong. anything for you.”

when the call ends, you run to your bathroom. you can feel the rising of petals, the all too familiar pain scratching your throat.

your knees hit the cold, marble flower, head hanging over the toilet bowl as you hurl out petals and vines. they scratch your throat, a permanent reminder of the unrequited love you faced.

the white and black petals scattered across the floor, blood dripping off them. it was a beautifully gruesome scene, like something out of an artistic horror movie.

you slump against the cold wall of your bathroom with a groan, wiping the blood dripping from the corner of your mouth. how you were going to be able to hide this from them? you had no idea.

unfortunately, you still hadn’t one when you walked out your gate.

it was a cold, cold day. you had a sweater on, hoodie layered over it for the extra warmth. palms clammy and sweaty, you gripped your bag tightly. god forbid hongjoong and seonghwa recognise you before you were emotionally and mentally prepared to see them for the first time in six years.

had they grown taller? were they as youthful as they once were? has their smiles stayed the same? had their voices deepened? did they still have the same dreadfully boring style? did they still wear the same cologne that clung to their clothes back then? were the bracelets you made them still sitting on their wrist all so beautifully? had–

“y/n!”

you jump at the shout of your name, looking up in shock. in front of you, just standing a few feet away, were kim hongjoong and park seonghwa.

eyes glistening with surprise, you look at them, voice stuck in the back of your throat. oh god, they looked so beautiful.

hongjoong hadn’t grown much, but he stood with confidence. his dark hair looked soft and silky, eyes bright and filled with twinkling stars. his cheeks stayed plump and full of life, a dusty pink that made you want to kiss them.

apart from seonghwa’s bleached hair, the next most obvious change was his height. he had grown almost a head taller, and yet, the sparkle in his eyes had remained. his cheeks were rosy, pink, plump lips curled into a bright, ethereal smile.

you feel years of emotions come crashing down on you. sadness, regret, pain, guilt— love. you burst into tears, wrapping your arms around the two men (not boys, you had to remind yourself).

“i’m sorry,” you apologise as hongjoong starts to cry, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m sorry joong, i’m sorry,” you buried your face into the crook of his neck, sobbing.

seonghwa comforted you with tears in his eyes, patting your head gently as he whispered sweet nothings to you. it seemed like deja vu to you, the whole scenario. if you hadn’t inhaled that sweet, floral scent that haw always wore that was mixed with the woody, musky scent hongjoong did, you’d think it all a dream.

as snow began to fall outside, the warmth radiating off the bodies of your soulmates made you realise how harsh this winter would be.

harsh it was indeed.

you’re about to pull your hair out before the ceremony begins. chewing at your bottom lip, your eyes dart around the venue, mind racing faster than you can comprehend.

“y/n.”

hongjoong’s voice sounds eerily deeper than you were used to. it sent shivers down your spine which made him laugh. “what’s wrong with you?” he asks in a cheeky manner as you huff.

“don’t blame me for not being used to your voice,” you lament, resting your elbow on his shoulder out of habit. “i still can’t believe how much you’ve changed.”

you look at the man with a grin and take note of the suit he’s wearing. it’s tailored to fit him perfectly, the details on it intricate and beautiful. the embroidered sun and stars, flowers and snowflakes adorned his clothing. you loved how he and seonghwa had gotten both their suits modified to have a more personal touch to them. it was artistic, elegant yet somewhat nostalgic.

the man sighs, glancing up at you. “it has been almost six years since we last saw each other,” he reminds you.

your body stiffens, rigid and filled with guilt. hongjoong notices this and frowns. “i didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says and you nod.

you knew that. you knew that hongjoong wasn’t holding it against you, but you were holding it against yourself. the file was eating out you inside out, like a parasite clawing at your skin and tearing your flesh from bone.

“hey, y/n,” he says softly, hand reaching out to grab yours. “it’s okay,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with the most soft and genuine smile. “it’s okay.”

you nod again and he pulls you in for a hug. hongjoong’s embrace had always felt so safe. you feel yourself melt into it, and if you had closed your eyes, the both of you would’ve been sixteen all over again.

“i love you, y/n,” hongjoong whispers as your eyes widen with surprise. hongjoong had never told you that before. “never forget that,” he pulls away with a wink before bidding you goodbye and going to greet his coworkers.

you stood there, still stunned by his words. your heart was screaming, yelling at you for being so foolish as to not have said it back. however, ‘i am so painfully and desperately in love with you, kim hongjoong’ seemed a bit hard to shout back in the setting you were currently in.

“now, what on earth could you be thinking about right this moment that isn’t related to your two boyfriends?”

you’re snapped out of your thoughts by a warm, teasing voice. “yunho,” you smile at the blonde man who’s dressed nicely in a suit. “glad you could make it,” you lean in and hug him tightly. “haven’t seen you since high school.”

he chuckles. “yeah, you left right after graduation– i couldn’t make it to see you off,” he feigns a frown as you laugh, slapping his shoulder. “and please, as if hongjoong would let me live it down if i didn’t come,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at the oh-so-true statement. “you okay?”

“huh?” you look at him confused. “why wouldn’t i be okay?”

yunho shrugs. before you can question him further, you are distracted by yeosang’s mint hair. he walks over with a smile, waving at you. “what’s with that look on your face?”

you huff. “yunho asked me if i was okay and won’t tell me why he suspects otherwise,” you grumble as yeosang’s eyes widen. he shoots the taller male a flare and you stare at him in shock. “is there something i should be worried about?”

yeosang sighs. “well,” he begins, pausing as he pondered silently. “you have to promise not to take this badly,” he warns as yunho sends him a worried look. you nod slowly, anxiety filling you like water gushing into an empty bottle.

“you see, back when we were all in high school,” he begins hesitantly. “we all thought you had a crush on either joong or hwa,” he says as you feel your heart sink into the out of your stomach. “but we didn’t speculate, of course.”

you brush it off with a scoff. “me? like them?” you fake a laugh. “never. they…” you train off, looking at hongjoong who’s smiling from ear to ear, cheeks a rosy pink.

it’s oddly bittersweet to see the boy you once bickered with in elementary school now getting married to the boy that snuck jellies to you in class. turning back, you give yeosang a sad smile. “they’re made for each other.”

after greeting the rest of your old friends (and stopping wooyoung and san from crying before the wedding actually started), you leave the garden to visit seonghwa in his private suite.

one of seonghwa’s many request was for you to walk him down the aisle. it was sickening masochistic for you to accept the proposition, now that you thought about it. then again, who were you to back out now?

one, two, three knocks.

“come in,” seonghwa’s silky smooth and sweet voice fills your ears. you tap your keycard, opening the door gently. “hello sweetheart.”

you feel your cheeks warm up, heart fluttering. “hey, hwa,” you whisper, taking in how gorgeous he looked. adorned in a white suit, flowers, clouds, the moon and stars embroidered on the sleeves, the inner mesh material iridescent. “you’re breathtaking. like an angel.”

seonghwa’s cheek turn a darker shade of pink as he clears his throat. “thank you,” he whispers as you giggle, holding his hands. your thumbs traced his knuckles, admiring how slim and long his fingers were. “we missed you so much, y’know?”

you didn’t dare look up and remained silent. “we didn’t know how to go on with life as usual without you by our side,” he hummed with a small smile. “but i don’t care about all that now. i’m just glad you decided to come home.”

home.

you felt the pit of your stomach churn (you were certain it was your heart). to you, hongjoong and seonghwa were home. no matter how long you stayed in your chic studio apartment overseas, it never felt right.

hongjoong and seonghwa’s embrace did. it felt warm, comforting, lovely. you had to promise yourself to not get too attached to it.

“i’m sorry,” is all you can find yourself saying and thinking. “i’m sorry, hwa.”

seonghwa hushes you, his fingers brushing against your skin ever-so gently. he tucks your hair behind your ear with a smile. “it’s okay, y/n,” he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “you’re here now. that’s what matters.”

you wrap your arms around the blonde, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “i love you both so much,” you confess (unbeknownst to him). “i love you, park seonghwa and i am so happy for you.”

he smiles, hugging you back as a tear slips down his cheek slowly. “i love you too, y/n. i love you so much.”

relishing in the moment, you’re determined to make sure their wedding was perfect. you were going to push aside all personal feelings, ignore all the pain and sadness, and make sure that seonghwa and hongjoong had the best day of their life.

you were certain that nothing was going to go wrong that day.

oh, how wrong you were.

“i’m sorry, i can’t do this.”

seonghwa’s voice is soft, but audible. your head snaps up so fast, your neck could’ve broken. to be honest, you weren’t particularly paying attention to whatever the officiant was saying, assuming that both men were going to say ‘yes’ immediately.

you furrowed your brows in confusion, the gasps around you loud. lifting your head to look at the man, you find that he’s already looking at you.

“what are you doing?” you mouth, gasping softly at the sight of tears rolling down the blonde’s cheeks. “don’t cry,” you whisper, frowning at the male.

seonghwa turns his attention back to hongjoong, pain and regret in his eyes. “i can’t lie to you, joong. i can’t lie to you and say that i love only you.”

a sinking, disgusting feeling bubbles in your chest as you gripped your forearm tightly. the look on hongjoong’s face tears you down and rips you apart. he looked betrayed, hurt, but somewhere hidden in his eyes, there was a sort of relief.

you didn’t like this.

you didn’t like this at all.

seonghwa turns to look at you and your heart instantly drops. “i can’t lie to you, joong, and say that i’m not still in love with y/n as well.”

the guests gasp in shock once again, eyes wide as they stared at the three of you. an interestingly dramatic turn of events, one would say.

but not for you. the shock on your face couldn’t have been more evident. it felt like your heart had stopped beating and instead froze in time.

had the bleach sunk too deep into his skull? what was he thinking? why was he revealing this now? when did seonghwa realised he felt this way? what the hell was he thinking? had park seonghwa really just said that?

“hwa…” hongjoong looks at him in pain, holding onto seonghwa’s hands tightly. “i can’t lie to you and say that i’m not in love with y/n either.”

with only two sentences, you felt as if your whole world had come crashing down. you stare at the two boys, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes.

“oh my god!”

san and wooyoung’s voices erupted from the crowd as they point towards the two grooms. following their gaze, you gasp at the now visible strings tied around their pinkies.

your gaze followed the strings (as did everyone else’s) and you were utterly horrified to see them tied to your ring finger.

finally, your soulmate strings could be seen.

looking up at your two best friends, shaking, you see the sadness, betrayal and relief written all over their faces. truth be told, it was hard to through a blurry vision. tears streamed down your cheeks, fear gripping you by the throat.

hongjoong stares at you with pain in his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. “we’re your soulmates?”

seonghwa is crying. “and you didn’t tell us? how long have you known?”

you stare at them, words stuck in your throat, refusing to come out.

“did you lie to us on your birthday?” seonghwa seems to come to the realisation. “is this why you chose to lie to us both?” he asked softly, pointing at the two strings. you could only nod.

“is this why you left?” hongjoong seems to not even want to believe his words. “is this why you never came back to visit?”

you nod again.

“why, y/n? why didn’t you tell us?”

you stare at the two men in silence. your voice was stuck in your throat, refusing to come out. a metallic taste filled your mouth and you knew what was coming.

“i—”

and before you could speak, petals flew out of your mouth, blood dripping down your chin as you look up at the two boys.

everyone gasped, staring at the flowers on the ground. lilies and black dahlias soaked in your blood. the very flowers that adorned the wedding venue– hongjoong and seonghwa’s favourites.

you look at your best friends, taking in their looks of pure horror. tears streamed down their cheeks, mouths agape. they’re paralysed in shock.

forcing a smile, you look at them. all the memories began to flood back as your vision grew spotty, your body slowly giving up on you.

god, even when death was knocking on your door, seonghwa and hongjoong still looked angelic.

“i’m sorry.”

and so on this cold, hauntingly beautiful day, crimson red blood soaked into pure white snow: a permanent reminder of the pain of unrequited love.