Kim Jisoo - Tumblr Posts

Must've Been The Wind

Requested By Anon: "Heyyy :) can I request a scenario where the story based about the song from Alec Benjamin 'must have been the wind' with fem!reader (idol) x Rosé? I also want to say, that I love you work!!"

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 8,795

Warnings / Misc. -- Abuse, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey, gang! I'm feeling generous today, so here's a second upload for you 😌 I didn’t notice until after writing this request that it said "idol" for the Reader, so that's the only thing that's different. This is a non-idol AU. I hope you still enjoy, anon! Let me know what you guys think 💜 ♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Wednesday, 2:49 PM

"Thanks again, Y/BFF/N. I owe you one." You smile, putting down the last of your moving boxes. Your quaint little apartment is filled with them, and you'll be spending the next few days unpacking everything. 

"You owe me like 10 favors, but sure." They grin at you, stepping closer to wrap you in a hug. Strong arms envelop you in a warm embrace, easing any fears you might have about being on your own for the first time. 

"I'm really gonna miss your lame ass, you know?" They say, their cheek pressed to yours. 

"Who wouldn't?" You ask as you pull back, wiggling your eyebrows dorkily. 

They laugh their signature laugh, one that you've both spent your youth making fun of, and you try to commit it to memory. You'd like to think that you'll see them often, just like you did when you went to school together, but you know the reality of life. 

"I'm gonna miss you, too. A lot." You look into their eyes sincerely, having had your fun before. They're one of the only people you'd trust with anything, so being apart will prove difficult. 

"Yah," they push your shoulder a little, tearing up. "You're making me soft, quit it." 

You giggle, "Alright, enough with this. Let's go eat our takeout before you have to go later."

They light up at that, deciding to race you to the kitchen. Their maniacal laughter bounces off the walls as you chase after them, knowing they'll make it there first and call dibs on most of your favorite food.

You round the corner, nearly crashing into the doorframe as you struggle to stop your momentum. "I'll tell your sister about the time you flushed her fish down the toilet and told her the dog ate it!"

They slowly turn around and narrow their eyes at you, their fingertips still resting on the brown paper bag. "You wouldn't dare." 

"I would," you raise your head, challenging them. You fish your phone out of your back pocket, scrolling through your contacts before locating their sister's number and turning it to face them. "Back away from the bag," you instruct like an officer, hovering your finger over the call button. "I don't wanna have to do this." 

They put their hands up, seemingly surrendering. Just as you're within arm's length of the bag, they pounce. 

"SIKE!" They swerve around you, narrowly avoiding your hands as you reach for their sweater. 

"GET BACK HERE!" You shout, now chasing them towards the living room. 

-------

Your legs are tucked underneath your body as you continue munching on the tasty food, sitting next to your best friend on the couch. They're sprawled out, somehow comfortable even though their position looks anything but. 

"Come on, that lamb is raw!" They shout at the TV, just as Gordon Ramsay says the same thing and reprimands the terrified chef. Ah yes, Hell's Kitchen. One of your favorite shows to watch together. 

You laugh, bringing the last bite of lo mein up to your lips with your chopsticks. 

After finishing off the crab rangoon that you were sharing, your friend looks up at you. 

"Y/N/N…"

"What do you want?" You say, pretending to be annoyed already.

"Do you have any dessert?"

You purse your lips, taking a moment to think. "Mmm, you're out of luck, bud. I'm pretty sure there's a snack bar in the lobby, though, if you wanna give your girl some money to grab something." You bat your eyelashes at them. 

They groan, but ultimately decide that they'd rather get a treat than go without. "Fine," they huff, reaching towards the coffee table for their wallet. "You know what I like." 

You nod, taking the cash from their hand before standing up. They yell a thank you to you as you unlock the door, and you blow them a kiss in return. 

--

Rows of shelves greet you as you enter the room, all filled to the brim with just about any snack you could think of. Sweet, savory, spicy, sour -- they just about have it all. The back wall of the convenient room is made up of a few refrigerators, stocked with soda, water, dairy products, and other staples. The check-out desk at the front has other essentials that you might be in need of, and you're thankful for this little place. It puts you at ease, in the case that you forgot something at home. 

You scan the aisles until you come across the candy, and soon your arms are full of all of your friend's favorite sweets. Thankfully you have a lot in common with them -- you love a lot of the same foods, so you're essentially shopping for the both of you. 

"Where are you?" You ask yourself under your breath, now standing in front of the frozen section. Your eyes search the contents of the freezer, eventually landing on your prized possession. "Aha!" You exclaim, overjoyed. 

Your fingers come in contact with the box of ice cream bars, and you're quick to snatch them up. It's been a while since you've had them, so to say you're excited is an understatement. 

-

"Will this be all?" The attendant politely asks as he finishes scanning your items. You check over them one more time, but your eyes widen as you realize you forgot your friend's all time favorite treat. 

"One more thing, sorry!" You apologize, speeding back down to the candy aisle. A woman stands in the middle, right in front of the area you need to get to. She looks a bit timid as her eyes scan the shelves, and she toys with her fingers habitually. 

"Excuse me," you say softly, stepping past her to reach for a bag of gummy bears. 

She subtly flinches at the close contact, and you furrow your brows as you stand back up. Her gaze, once trained on the floor, now meets your own. 

She's absolutely stunning. 

Her blonde hair falls against her shoulders in perfect waves, and a couple strands come forward to frame her face. A few stray freckles trail across her nose and cheeks, paired with a beautiful rosey blush. She's adorable, and you feel your lips turn up into a small smile at the sight of her. 

"I'm sorry," she apologizes almost immediately, as if it's out of habit; her eyes dart back down to the floor, and you feel your heart break at her actions. 

Something clearly isn't right. 

Just as you open your mouth to assure her that she has nothing to apologize for, you see it. 

A bruise -- harsh designs of purple against her fair skin -- peeking out of one of the sleeves of her sweater. It's in the shape of a handprint -- like someone grabbed her violently. 

Your chest tightens at the realization, and you're momentarily rendered speechless. 

"I'm sorry," she repeats, bowing lightly as she starts to back away, "I've gotta get going now." With that, your first encounter with the woman is over before it even really had the chance to begin. You stand there for a second as the gravity of the situation sinks in, and you wonder if she's a resident here, too. If she is, you vow to befriend her and make sure she's alright. 

----

"Took you long enough," your friend jokes, sitting up to greet you as you walk through the door. Upon seeing the troubled look on your face, though, their smile drops. 

"What's wrong, dude?" 

"I saw a woman when I was getting our snacks. She had a bruise on her arm; I think someone's hurting her." 

You've seen enough movies and tv to know the signs of abuse, and it's a no brainer in this case. 

"People get bruises all the time, Y/N. Are you sure?" They ask, walking with you towards the kitchen to unpack the bags. 

"I mean, I'm pretty sure. It looked like a handprint." 

Their eyes widen a bit, and you scowl, clenching your jaw a few times. If there's anything you hate in this world, it's abusers. 

"Does she live here?"

"I'm not sure. I'm gonna keep an eye out for her, though." 

They nod in agreement, both of you silently processing the situation. You hope to see her again soon.

Friday, 9:37 PM

"Yeah mom, I promise I'm alright. I just settled in to do some work, actually." 

You put your phone in the crook of your neck, making sure to press your cheek against it and prevent it from falling as you rifle through some of the papers on your desk. Your mother continues talking about how much she's going to miss you now that you've moved out, and you just shake your head and smile. 

"My baby girl, all grown up," she tuts, likely frowning in the comic, overdramatic way she always does. "What am I supposed to do now? It'll be boring here without you."

"Ah, eomma, stop being sad. You know I can't stand it." You press your lips together in a disappointed scowl, though she can't see you from the other end of the telephone line. "I'll visit often, and we can call everyday. Plus you have dad to keep you entertained while I'm gone." 

"Y/N, I love your appa, but sometimes he's as interesting as a wet sock." 

The corners of your lips tug up at that, and you have to hold back your laughter. 

"I HEARD THAT!" Your father shouts, sounding far away. You hear your mother let out a little scream, clearly not expecting to have been caught. "AHH!" 

Both of you snicker together for a moment before she decides to address him again. "Honey, you know I love you." 

"Yeah, yeah," he says, his voice coming through clearer as he approaches the phone. "Let me talk to my daughter; she's the only one in this house who thinks I'm interesting." 

You can practically see him pouting like a 5 year old, and the familiar interaction warms your heart. You already miss them and it's only been a couple days since you left. 

"How's my little girl doing? Make any new friends yet?" He asks, his voice rich and comforting. The deep tones of it carry across the line, putting you at ease in an instant. 

Your mind wanders back to the woman from the lobby, and you bite the inside of your cheek. You haven't seen her again since then. 

"No, not yet. I know I'm great and all, but 2 days is hardly enough time to make friends, dad." You grin lightly, a teasing lilt to your voice. 

"Well I'm sure you'll make plenty soon enough. You're a great person to have around; anybody would be lucky to call you a friend."

"What is it with you people being so sentimental now?" You joke, though inside you're touched by his words. 

"That's it, I'm going back to my office!" He declares, handing the phone back to your mom. 

"Nooo, dad, I was kidding. I love you." You laugh into the line, your eyes crinkling up in amusement. 

"Mhm. Love you too, kid." 

He leaves your mother to finish her conversation with you, and two hours later, you're done. With a heavy sigh, you lean back in your chair and rub the aching muscles of your neck. You quickly realize how thirsty you are, now that you aren't occupied with juggling a convo with your mom while attempting to finish work, and you decide to go grab a drink. 

The cold surface of your water bottle chills your hand as you stand in the kitchen, taking a long sip of it. Sneaking a glance at your watch, you see that it's almost midnight. A quiet curse is muttered under your breath; you still have some things to do before bed, and you have a busy day of unpacking lined up for tomorrow. 

Just as you bring your hands up to rub your face, a loud crash can be heard from somewhere above you. Caught off guard, you jump and tense up, clutching your hand to your chest. You stay still and listen in to see what it was, and shouting follows soon after. A man's gravelly voice roughly growls something out, and it's followed by a meek sounding, feminine voice. 

You'd know it anywhere -- it's the woman from before. 

After listening in a bit longer, you gather through the bits and pieces of broken conversation that you can hear that she took too long getting him something, and now he's angry. He continues on, and your blood runs cold as you hear a loud thud from directly above you; someone just fell to the ground. 

You know you can't just stand by; grabbing the key to your apartment and hastily shoving it in your pocket, you take your phone and head out the door. Deciding to skip the elevator, you dart up the stairs and attempt to locate which apartment the noise is coming from. Guided by his insults that have now slowed down a bit, only being barked out occasionally, you manage to find it. 

Apartment 208.

*knock knock*

"This had better be my pizza." He spits before opening the door, coming face to face with you. 

"Who're you?" He asks, clearly unimpressed as his eyebrows furrow together. He reeks of beer and other filth.

"Just a resident from downstairs," you inform, doing your best not to come off too hostile. It's hard, but you don't want to alert him and make him turn you away before you can ensure that the woman is okay. "I heard some noise and I wanted to come check on you guys." 

"It must've been the wind," the woman says, coming into view behind him. She stands halfway across the room, leaning against the open doorway of the living room. 

The night has been completely calm so far; not even a slight breeze has rolled in. 

You curtly nod, letting your eyes travel over her frame as she slightly trembles. A cut is visible on her forehead, and your blood boils as you see it. She meets your gaze before looking away soon after, seemingly afraid of holding eye contact for too long. 

"We're fine," the man says, pushing your shoulder to redirect your attention away from her. "You can go now." 

Taking a breath, you decide to relent; at least for now. Antagonizing him right off the bat will only endanger her more; you have to be smart about this. "Alright," you say, looking to her one last time as you finish your thought, "I'm right downstairs if you need anything." 

She sends you a soft, thankful smile. It's the first one you've seen from her, and your heart warms at the cute sight. 

The moment ends far too quickly when the man mumbles something unintelligible and shuts the door in your face, narrowly avoiding hitting you with it. You shake your head and take a few steps down the hall, making him think you walked away. Now out of sight of the peephole, you can make sure he doesn't do anything else before you head back downstairs. 

A few minutes pass with no more fighting, and you retreat back to your room with a mind full of racing thoughts. You just hope she's okay. 

A Few Days Later

"I told you not to bother me when I'm on the phone!" The man screams, stomping around above you. 

"I'm sorry, I was just asking what you wanted for dinner tonight!" For once, you can actually hear her clearly; she's talking a little louder now, not sticking to whispering. 

"Are you talking back to me now, bitch?" He sounds taken aback, and angrily so.

"No, Nam-gi. I'm sorry." 

Time comes to a grinding halt when you hear a loud smack ring out, followed by a thud. Your heart leaps in your chest, your breath held tightly in your throat as you wait to see what happens next. 

"I'm going out. This place had better be fucking spotless when I get back, and I expect a warm meal to be waiting. You'll regret it if you don't listen to me." He kicks something across the room as he makes his exit, leaving another thing for her to clean up. 

You watch out your window as he leaves the building, lighting a cigarette before climbing into his rusty pickup truck. His jet black hair is messy and unkempt, completely in line with the image his rumpled clothes give off. He drives away a couple minutes later, and you wait until you hear movement again from upstairs to go check on her. 

Soft sobs greet you as you stand outside the door, your fist raised in preparation to knock. You give the door two soft taps, trying not to scare her. 

"I'm okay, you don't have to worry." She says from the other side, not even bothering to open it. Both of you know you'll want to help her as soon as you see the state he's left her in, and she doesn't want to get you involved. It's easier for her to deal with it alone; she's too exhausted to open up to someone else. 

"No, you aren't. You don't have to shut me out, you know?" You say more than ask, trying to reassure her. "He's gone. I just want to help you clean things up, if nothing else." 

She knows as soon as she opens that door and you walk into her life, you won't be walking back out. When she first met you, she felt at ease for the first time in a long time. It's hard to explain, but your presence made her feel safe; untouchable. Not to mention how attractive she finds you. She wants to let you in, but she's scared. 

"Please. I'll leave as soon as you say the word; just let me give me you a hand." 

After a few tense seconds that feel like an eternity, she opens the door. Half of her face is visible as she cracks it open, and you raise your head to look at her. 

"I don't know how long he'll be gone, but he's probably going out with his friends. They usually go bar hopping."

"At 5PM on a Tuesday?" You raise a brow, cocking your head to the side.

"At 5PM on a Tuesday." She affirms, nodding.

Following that, she opens it the rest of the way and lets you slip in, keeping her eyes cast down to the floor as she closes it and turns back around to face you. You notice her hesitancy to look at you, but it doesn't discourage you; you're determined to help her to the best of your ability. 

"Can I clean you up before we get started?" You ask, voice hesitant and gentle. It's obvious that she has injuries -- especially with the way that she's avoiding eye contact and keeping as much of her body covered as possible. "My mom's a nurse," you tell her, giving her a personal piece of info to help ease into the situation. "My bandaid-ing skills are out of this world, if I do say so myself," you joke, feeling some of the tension dissipate from the air around you when she cracks a small smile. 

"I suppose you can help, yes." She answers your question, finally raising her head. You do your best to hide the shock you feel upon noticing the gash on her cheek and the bruise underneath her right eye. Her eyes look sad; you must've let your emotion show too much. 

"Come with me." She leads the way to the bathroom before opening the cabinet and retrieving a small first aid kit. A quiet gasp can be heard as she stretches up to close it, and you see her wince in the mirror. Without thinking, you reach forward to steady her; she tenses up, and you apologize as you remove your hands. 

You have to be more careful. 

"It's okay," she says over her shoulder, slowly sitting down on the toilet. Her legs press up against the cool porcelain, offering a short reprieve from the aching tension in her muscles. The fall took a toll on her already injured body, and the effects are showing. 

You don't waste any time; after taking the supplies from her, you busy yourself with sterilizing the swabs you'll be using with alcohol and putting ointment on the pads of some band aids you find at the bottom of the kit. It's relatively bare, but you make do. 

"This'll hurt," you warn her, settling down in front of her on your knees. You were going to stand, but you figure she'll feel more at ease this way; you want to make sure she knows she's in control now. Towering over her seemed like an undesirable choice. 

"Okay," she whispers, closing her eyes and balling her fists up at her sides in preparation. 

"Can I touch you?" 

"Yes." 

Carefully resting your hand against her uninjured cheek, you turn her head to allow yourself the most amount of access. The cotton swab brushes across her sensitive, broken skin, making her whimper and take her lip between her teeth. You scowl, hating that she's in pain again. Reminding yourself that it'll make her feel better in the end, you continue on with cleaning her wounds. 

Your last swipe must've hit an especially irritated spot, because she grips onto your forearm with a pained hiss. "I'm sorry…" you start, realizing in this moment that you don't even know her name. 

"Rosé. But you can call me Rosie." She finishes for you, slowly opening her eyes as the pain fades. Her brown orbs look like rich chocolate in the light of the bathroom, their unique hues brought out by the glow of the bulbs overtop of the mirror. Your arm twitches slightly, bringing her attention to her hand that's still holding onto you. 

"I'm sorry," she apologizes again, making you frown. 

"Hey," you reach forward, making sure not to move too quickly this time, and tilt her head up. "It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong; you don't have to apologize to me." It's easy to tell that she's been conditioned over time to be so obedient, and that fact works to make you angry. Nam-gi -- or whatever the hell his name is -- is undeserving of such a kind soul. You hope you get the chance to teach him a lesson someday. 

After placing the bandages on her face and wiping the rest of it to make sure nothing gets infected, you ask if there's anything else she wants you to look at. She sheepishly nods, and you assure her that you won't judge her or turn her away. 

She slowly lifts her shirt, revealing an angry looking bruise that reaches across a large portion of her abdomen. You'd be surprised if she doesn't have a broken rib -- that's how bad it is. 

"I can wrap it with a cloth to stabilize it, if you'd like. I don't think I have a big enough band aid for that." 

She laughs, genuinely thankful for your sense of humor. Although the action hurt her already sensitive body, she assures you that she enjoyed the joke. She can't remember the last time someone played around with her; needless to say, she doesn't want your time together to end anytime soon. 

You dig through the box until you find a gauze pad and wrap, and you kneel in front of her again. Her hands hold her shirt up to give you room to work, and you thank her. Placing the pad on top of the center of the bruise, where it's the darkest and a cut marks the middle, you begin wrapping the cloth around her torso to secure it. Her breath hitches as you lean in closer, repeatedly sliding the material into your other hand as you wind it around her body. The close proximity makes your heart pound a little harder, but you don't make it obvious; you don't want her to think your intentions are anything but pure. 

"There," you declare, smoothing the material out against her side. "All done." 

"Thank you…."

"Y/N." You tell her, just as she did earlier. "You can call me Y/N/N, if you want." 

"Alright, Y/N/N." Her accent wraps around the nickname in such a way that you instantly feel butterflies take flight in your stomach. 

"I-I hope that helps some." You mentally smack yourself for stuttering like a blushy schoolgirl, but your demeanor seems to be endearing to her. 

"It will. Nobody's ever really done anything like that for me. I appreciate it." 

"You shouldn't be injured in the first place, Rosie, but I'll always be here to patch you up." You rest a warm hand on her knee, and both of you look down to it after you realize what you did. She puts hers over yours, giving it a light squeeze. "Thank you." 

---

"Do I add more milk or butter?" You ask, scratching the back of your neck as you reread the instructions on the box for the millionth time. Rosé grins at your confusion as she approaches you, already comfortable in your presence. She looks over your shoulder at the mac and cheese in front of you, seeing that it's too thick. "Milk." 

"Chef Rosie to the rescue," you say like an announcer, stirring the ingredients in with a smile. 

After cleaning up the mess Nam-gi made, you asked Rosie to let you stay and help fix dinner, just in case he got back sooner than she predicted. If he hurt her for getting distracted by your presence and not having the food done, you'd never forgive yourself. She agreed to let you help, and now dinner is almost finished.

"Mmm, taste this," you instruct, swallowing the tasty bite that you stole as you bring the spoon up to her mouth. Her plump lips wrap around the utensil as she takes the food off it, momentarily mesmerizing you. You eventually snap to and shake your head, reprimanding yourself for already developing a crush. 

"It's yummy," she compliments, swiping her tongue across her lip to gather up any remaining cheese. The dish isn't hard to make, but she can't deny that yours has a special quality to it that she hopes to taste again. 

After setting the various dishes onto the stove and flipping the burners to "keep warm", you wash and dry your hands. Leaning against the counter, you look over at Rosé as she unties her apron. 

"Thanks again, for everything. You helped me more than you know." She smiles, playing with her fingers again. This time, though, it's different; she doesn't look afraid or skittish. She's shy now, but for entirely different reasons than when she was in the shop. 

"This might sound weird, but can I hug you?" 

You nod, opening your arms. "Of course, Rosie." She bashfully dips her head down as she walks over, resting it on your shoulder as she wraps her arms around your neck. Carefully avoiding her tender spots, you loop your arms around her waist, easing her into your embrace. Her body presses to yours softly, and you fit together like you were always meant to be this way. You rub soothing circles on her back, feeling the tension leave her muscles as she sinks further into your arms. You offer a feeling of security that she doesn't have the luxury of experiencing very often; she's determined to soak it in as long as she can. 

"Thank you for letting me in today," you say quietly, both of you knowing the deeper meaning behind your words. 

"Thank you for being here." 

"Always." 

She pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, but not enough to slip out of your hold. 

"Y/N…" she starts, seemingly wanting to say something until her eyes fall to your lips. You quirk a brow at her, relieved to see her reciprocating your feelings from earlier. 

"Yes?" 

"I-"

The distinct sound of Nam-gi's truck fills the air outside, interrupting your moment. "Shit," you curse, gently using your foot to push yourself away from the counter, still keeping Rosie in your arms.

"I'll come back another day. I promise," you assure her, looking into her beautiful eyes. She's slipping back into the submissive state that she's been forced into for so long, and you hate it. The light in her eyes dims, further breaking your heart. 

"Bye Y/N." You frown, genuinely sad to have to leave her. She offers one last smile before stepping away, allowing her hand to slip out of yours. 

Before he can catch you, you slip out the door and run back down to your apartment. 

The night is quiet for once, and you're comforted by that fact to some degree. 

Several Weeks Later

The following weeks were filled with visits to Rosie whenever Nam-gi would leave for work or go out with his idiot friends, and the two of you grew undeniably closer. She opened up more to you, thankfully, and you did the same. She was thankful to have someone in her corner, and you were thankful that she let you be that person for her. 

Disaster struck, however, when you had to go out of town on a week-long work trip. The two of you never thought to trade numbers since you're neighbors, and she'd surely pay the price if he found out she was calling someone behind his back. So, for the entire time you were away, she was constantly on your mind. You lied awake at night, hoping she was okay and that he wasn't hurting her. 

Now, finally back home, you wait until he leaves for work to visit her. 

*knock knock*

You hear light footsteps approach the door, but she doesn't open it. 

Knitting your brows together, you greet her. "Hey, Rosie, it's me." 

"I think you should go away, Y/N." She says, sounding despondent. This version of her is a far cry from what she usually turns into whenever you come to see her, and it worries you. What did he do to her?

"Do you really want me to, or are you just scared?" 

That must've struck a nerve. You hear a sniffle from the other side of the door, and after a moment she responds, "I'm scared." 

"I'm right here, Rosé. I won't let anything happen to you. Just open up, please." You press a hand against the door, not realizing that she's doing the same on the opposite side. She rests her forehead against it as she wipes her tears. 

It opens to reveal a distraught looking Rosé, her eyes puffy and red and cheeks swollen. You close the door behind yourself, muttering a disappointed, "Oh, baby", as you pull her into your arms. Her body racks against yours with every strained breath she takes in, letting out an equally upsetting sob every time. 

"I m-missed you s-so much," she says through her tears, clinging onto you like her life depends on it. "He hurt me again, Y/N." You can tell something is different about this time -- you just don't know what. Her tone is different, and something in her aura is even more broken than normal. 

"What did he do?" You ask, stepping back to look her body over for wounds.

She just shakes her head, and a fresh batch of tears roll down her cheeks. Your heart sinks as you realize what happened. 

"I'm gonna kill him," you say, setting your jaw. Hitting her evidently wasn't enough for the sick bastard; he had to force himself on her, too. 

"Don't, Y/N. I can't have you getting hurt for me." 

"I'd bleed myself dry for you, Rosie. I don't care if I get hurt; I shouldn't have waited this long to stand up for you." You shake your head, disappointed in yourself. 

"I'm sick of the violence. I just want to get away from him; I just want peace." She says, wrapping her arms around herself to bring herself comfort. She looks so small and tired right now that you can't help but pity her. 

"I can't let him get away with what he's done, babe. I'll keep you out of it, don't worry."

"Just hold me, please." Her voice breaks as she makes the request, and you're agreeing in an instant. You pick her up in your arms and go to the couch, letting her cuddle into your side and share your warmth. Soft affirmations of your dedication to her are whispered into her ear, and you rub her back until her sniffles fade into jagged breaths every now and then, letting you know she fell asleep. 

"I love you, Rosie. I'm gonna protect you." You say against her temple, thinking she's far away in dreamland, where nothing can reach her. But she isn't; she's still awake, and the confession makes her heart soar. 

---

The sound of your alarm blaring wakes you up, and you sit up with a start. Rosé isn't in your arms anymore, and you instantly start to panic. The apartment is dark, with the only source of light coming from the fading sun that's streaming in through the window. It'll be setting any minute, and you know Nam-gi will be getting off work soon. 

"Rosie?" You ask into the darkness, feeling your way towards the kitchen. 

"In here, Y/N/N." Her soft voice sounds off from the bathroom, where you hear her washing her hands. Relief washes over you at that, and you let out a breath you didn't entirely realize you were holding. 

"Did you sleep well?" You ask, leaning against the doorframe beside her. She dries her hands with the fluffy towel you bought her not too long ago. She had to lie and say that she bought it, which earned her another slap to the face from Nam-gi. He doesn't like her spending his money. 

But she doesn't care. Your gift was thoughtful and sweet, and she loves you even more for it. 

She loves you. 

She realized it a few weeks ago, when you brought up your gaming systems and played with her for hours on end. It took her mind off of the hell she has to live through, and it made her feel like a kid again. You're her escape and safety net, and she'll forever have a special place in her heart for you. 

But that's precisely why she has to let you go. 

She can't have you getting in the middle of things with Nam-gi -- the only thing that could hurt her more than what he does is seeing you turn into someone like him. She knows you would never hurt her, but that's not what scares her; you wouldn't stop yourself from killing him, probably, and she wouldn't be able to stand seeing you so violent. She's found solace in the peace you bring her, and she isn't willing to put that on the line for something as unimportant as her happiness. In a perfect world, she's yours and you're hers. 

Sadly, though, this isn't a perfect world. 

"Yeah, I did. Thanks to you." She smiles, poking your shoulder cutely. 

"They don't call me the cuddle bug for nothing," you step forward, encircling her waist with your arms. 

She hugs you close, breathing in the familiar scent of your perfume one last time. Her lips brush against your cheek, leaving a small smudge of the strawberry lip balm that she always uses. She'll miss the little moments like these the most, she thinks. 

You pull back to look into her eyes, pushing a fallen strand of hair back behind her ear. The look of adoration on your face makes every ounce of her doubt melt away; deciding to throw caution to the wind, she leans forward, pressing her lips to yours. 

The soft, "finally", you mumble against her lips makes her smile, and she can't fight the giddy feeling in her chest. Saying goodbye to you will hurt more than she's prepared to deal with, but your kisses take her mind off of it, if only for a little while. You let her take control, knowing that she deserves to have the upper hand for once and be in charge. Her hands run down your body at a teasingly slow pace, eventually coming to rest underneath your shirt, against your lower back. You cradle her face in your hands, lulling her head to the side to kiss her deeper. 

Her heart thuds excitedly in her chest, and she wants to live here in this moment with you forever. The way your warm breath fans over the sensitive skin of her neck as you trail kisses across it has her weak in the knees, lightly dragging her nails down your back. 

"I love you." 

Your declaration comes in between kisses to her pulse point, where you fight the urge to leave a mark. You so badly want to leave a reminder for her to see anytime she looks in the mirror; something to take her back to this moment in time. But you don't; her safety is more important than any selfish claim you might want to put on her. 

A tear drops from her eye at that, and you pull back to look at her. 

"I love you, too." Finally saying it feels better than she ever imagined it could, and she considers herself lucky to have this moment with you. Not everyone gets to feel like this; it's a wonderful thing. 

Sliding your hands underneath her thighs, you lift her onto the sink and tenderly kiss her lips again. It's slow and gentle, and you pour every bit of your love for her into it. You're determined to make her feel valued and important, and you pray more than anything that she'll let you continue doing so. You can see her in your future, and that's saying something for you; that doesn't happen often. 

She links her legs around your hips to keep you secured in place, and she holds your face in her hands as she brushes her nose against yours. She squishes your cheeks adorably in her hands, loving how warm and radiant you look before her. "You mean the world to me." The back of her fingers lazily trail across your jaw, stroking it sweetly in tandem with her confession. 

"You're my world," you say, rubbing light circles on her hip. The two of you stay like that a little longer, holding onto every second you have together until the evening sky gives way to a velvety blanket of darkness, illuminated by the moon. As you say your goodbyes at the door, you kiss her hand, not thinking anything out of the ordinary. The innocent look in your eye breaks her heart; she hates herself for what she'll be doing to you, but she knows it has to be done. You're unassuming and pure in this moment, and she doesn't dare ruin it by crushing your spirit. She knows you'll fight for her, and she wouldn't be able to deny you if you did. So, with one final embrace, she watches you walk back down to your apartment, holding your hand up in the gesture for I love you in sign language as you disappear down the stairwell. 

2 Days Later 

"Rosieee," you sing-song, approaching her door with a smile. "I made your favorite." As you wait on her to open up, you sneakily lift the saran wrap up and grab a cookie, stuffing it in your mouth. When she doesn't respond after a couple minutes, you start to get worried. Maybe she's just sleeping, you reason with yourself. A sneeze from inside rings out, though, letting you know she's awake. Realizing she doesn't want you to come in, you put the plate down on the floor and leave her with a parting message, "I hope I didn't do something wrong. Enjoy the cookies, Rosé." 

She fights back the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes at the sadness of your tone. She knew from the beginning that this part would be hard; she just hopes it'll get easier soon. 

3 Days Later

After getting off work and hearing Rosie crying, you decided to turn your apartment upside down in search of your boombox. Aiming it at the ceiling -- the only thing physically keeping the two of you apart -- you play some of her favorite songs. You make sure to play "Lean On Me", too, remembering how much she loves it. 

A Week Later, In The Lobby Store

"Hey, Adam." You smile at the cashier in greeting, though it doesn't reach your eyes like usual. Rosé's been ignoring you, leaving you to worry in silence and wonder what you did wrong. You hope she comes around soon. 

Walking down the aisle that holds your favorite flavor of Ramune, you accidently bump into someone. 

"Sorry," you quickly apologize, reaching out to make sure they're okay. A soft hand slides into your own, and you hold on tight to keep them from falling. After getting your bearings back, you look up to find a mess of blonde hair before you. 

"Rosie?" You ask, sounding surprised and hurt. She brushes her hair out of her face, and you take a small step back, unsure of what she wants from you. Perhaps you had been too overbearing or rushed into things too fast. Who knows. 

"Hey," she starts, cringing at how awkward it sounds. 

"Yeah, hey," you reply, trying not to sound bitter as you step around her to grab the drink. Rosé catches your arm as you go to put it in the shopping basket resting against your hip. "I'm sorry," she says, releasing the words softly -- quietly. 

"You don't have to do that, Rosie. I understand that you want some space; it's okay," you carefully wiggle out of her grip, though you really want to stay beside her. Keeping her happy and comfortable is more important to you than your own feelings, and you'd do anything to ensure she stays that way; if being away from you offers her that, then so be it. She probably only said hello in the first place because she's afraid of being impolite; that or she's doing it for your sake. Fighting every fiber of your being, you step away, offering a parting word as you turn around to walk down the aisle and continue shopping. 

"Wait, don't go," she says, the words coming out a bit rushed as she reaches out for you. "Wha--" her lips brush against yours as she spins you around, making your eyes widen. You go to pull away, but a steady hand on the small of your back keeps you in place. A soft whimper leaves you as she kisses you harder, reminding you of everything you've been missing without her. She's confusing the hell out of you right now. 

Eventually managing to press your hand to her chest and push her away a bit, you look into her eyes. You can't let her back in if she's going to shut you out again. "What's going on, Rosé? You don't talk to me for 2 weeks and now you're kissing me like nothing happened?" 

"I'm sorry," she repeats, sounding more sure of herself. "I never meant to hurt you. I'm just trying to keep you safe." You scoff, allowing your sadness to show now. 

"This hurts more. Do you want me around or not?" 

"Of course I do," she says, tutting at you. She brings a hand up to your cheek, cupping it in an attempt to show her sincerity. You're hesitant to accept it, and that fact stings her a little bit. She's pushed you away, just like she planned, and now she's pulling you back in. The back and forth is cruel; she should've just fought her desires and stayed away for good. But you looked too broken -- too unlike yourself -- for her to just stand by any longer. She needed you to know she still cares -- that she loves you -- and that you'll always mean the world to her. 

"Come up to the room tonight. 11 o'clock. He's going to visit his parents when he gets off work. I'll explain it all, I promise." 

You take a breath, weighing your options. "Okay, I'll be there."

10:17 PM

Finishing up a couple reports for your boss, you stretch the exhaustion from your muscles and turn in your office chair, popping your back. Your blue light filter glasses rest against the bridge of your nose, and you push them up to massage the indentions they left in your skin. 

Jumping at an unsettling crack that cuts through the relatively calm night air, you stand from your chair. Your heart pounds wildly as you hear Nam-gi start up again, screaming at the top of his lungs. This time is different, though; he's throwing things, and you can hear them break against the walls and floor as he tears through the apartment. His rage went from zero to one hundred, and he's wasting no time in getting loud and angry. 

"I saw you with her downstairs, you slut! You think I'm stupid? I know you've been seeing her. I didn't care all that much because I have plenty of other girls on the side, but you crossed the line." 

Smack

You clench your jaw, striding out of your office with purpose.

"You're an idiot for thinking you can kiss her like that in public without me finding out. I own you, Roseanne. I have eyes everywhere. Don't forget your place, bitch." She loudly cries out as he shoves her into the kitchen wall, causing the knob of one of the cabinets to sharply drive into her back. 

"Y/N!" 

The broken shout for help leaves her lips as a last ditch effort, and it sets you in motion. Leaving everything in your room, you fly out the door and up the stairs, only caring about making it to her. 

"Your little whore girlfriend can't save you now, Roseanne." Another loud sob echoes out across their apartment as he punches her in the stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs. 

Quickly realizing that the door is locked, you gather all of your strength and rush it, throwing your shoulder into it with every ounce of power you possess. The pain doesn't matter now; you have to save her. 

The door shoots open with a blast of wood fragments from the frame flying in different directions, and you find him straddling her in the living room, partially behind the couch.

"Get off of her, you bastard!" You scream, tackling him to the ground. Rosie sputters for air beside you, and it sinks in that he was choking her just seconds ago. Your fists move faster than you've ever seen them move, seemingly having a mind of their own as you beat him relentlessly. He attempts to fight back, but you're seeing red; the only things that can appease you are the blood dripping from his nose and the bruises quickly forming all across his face. 

"You get off on beating her like this?" You scream, punching him in the stomach, just as he did to her. The ends of your jacket whip around behind you as you continue your assault. "You make me sick!" With one final, glorious shot to his face, you grab the collar of his shirt to pull him off the floor a few inches. 

"If you ever so much as look at her again, I won't stop myself." He gurgles helplessly on his blood, completely bruised and broken as he attempts to smart off again. You shove him to the ground and look up, shaking from the pure rage coursing through your body.

What you see shatters your heart. Rosie is cowering in the corner, and she tenses up as you crawl off of him. You look down at yourself, realizing the state you're in. Your knuckles are dark shades of crimson and purple, swirling designs of blood painting them to serve as a reminder for what happened. You shake the pain from them, facing your palms up towards the sky as you outstretch them to her, wordlessly reassuring her you won't harm her. You were mere seconds away from confirming her fears; you almost slipped into his mindset. You almost didn't stop. 

Almost.

She sees the numerous emotions pooling in your eyes, and she knows she's safe now. She knows her Y/N is back. Wordlessly, she meets you halfway across the room, collapsing into the strong embrace that your arms provide. She sobs into your shoulder, and you just pull her closer, shedding a few tears yourself. You pull her up as you stand, not wanting to be in the room with her abuser any longer. 

Various residents peek out of their rooms as you and Rosie help each other down the stairs, giving you approving nods for what you did. They heard the abuse ever since it began, but none of them did anything to stop it; thankfully you did and stepped in to make a difference. Your landlord, Ha-joon, places a hand on your shoulder as you reach the bottom of the stairs, offering a hushed, "We'll take care of the rest," before letting you go to your room. He and a couple security guards go up to Nam-gi's room to stay with him until the police arrive, and Ha-joon leaves your name out of it when filling out the report and answering their questions. Nam-gi is taken out in a wheelchair, and both you and Rosie are comforted by the fading sounds of the sirens. He's going far, far away, and Rosie is finally free. 

"Hold this," you instruct, slipping the hem of her shirt into her hands as you notice that she's beginning to come out of her state of shock. Your hands work tirelessly to clean her wounds and take away as much of her pain as you know how. You pay little mind to the pain in your jaw (the result of what few punches he managed to land), or the stinging of your knuckles, though both become more and more apparent with every move you make. 

"Stop, Y/N," she commands, her voice coming out hoarse from all the screaming she did. Her hands land on your arms, stroking them softly to ground you. You've been so caught up in protecting her that you didn't realize how bad you're hurting. She sinks to the floor and pulls you into her arms, holding you close as you let out all of the emotions that've been building up. "I love you; I'm sorry for pushing you away. I'm never leaving again." She cries against you, and you feel her lip tremble against your neck. 

"It's you and me, Rosé. You and me." Tears flow out of your eyes and land on her shirt as you bunch it up in your hands, slowly convincing yourself that she's really staying this time. You stay like that until both of you stop crying, and she reaches for your hands. 

"Can I help you now?" She asks, glancing down at your painful looking injuries. You subtly nod, and she fishes around in the first aid kit beside you until she finds what she needs. She took note of what you used on her all those weeks ago, and it's clearly coming in handy now. 

You hiss as the alcohol comes into contact with the split skin of your knuckles, but she's quick to surprise you with a kiss. The feeling of her lips against yours again soothes the pain, taking your mind off of the unrelenting sting that radiates throughout the areas she's treating. 

"I love you," you sigh, resting your forehead against hers as she finishes applying the ointment and wrapping your hands tenderly. 

"Thank you, Y/N/N. For everything." She peppers kisses all across your face in her way of making you feel her love. She knows you've got her now, and she'll do anything to show you that you can count on her, too. 

"You had me at 'excuse me'." She says, referencing back to the very first time you met. You laugh through your tears, sweeping the pads of your thumbs against the apples of her cheeks. The remaining tension seeps out of your shoulders as she kisses away your worries, filling your mind with hope for your future together with every brush of her lips against your skin.

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot. 

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best. 

A bonafide, absolute idiot. 

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out. 

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning. 

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time. 

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight. 

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word. 

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession. 

There's no way you think this one looks bad. 

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck. 

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features. 

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too." 

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter. 

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all." 

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier. 

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday. 

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool. 

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend. 

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door. 

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh. 

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week. 

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…" 

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees. 

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling." 

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests. 

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways. 

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies. 

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair. 

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks. 

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again. 

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this. 

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you. 

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here." 

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before. 

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile. 

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side. 

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes. 

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?" 

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down. 

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing. 

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away. 

But alas, she doesn't. 

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight. 

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes. 

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see." 

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality. 

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner. 

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying." 

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you. 

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation. 

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people. 

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks. 

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party." 

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?" 

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one." 

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?" 

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me." 

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip. 

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!" 

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks. 

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter. 

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me." 

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer. 

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets. 

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else. 

You can get your own revenge. 

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them. 

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you. 

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion. 

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away. 

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes. 

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later. 

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen. 

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers. 

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her. 

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall. 

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge. 

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun. 

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are. 

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover. 

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path. 

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up. 

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you. 

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you. 

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be. 

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers. 

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!" 

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting. 

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now. 

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath. 

"What's wrong?" 

There's that voice again. 

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it. 

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me." 

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like." 

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches. 

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas. 

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads. 

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little. 

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled. 

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters. 

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs. 

When did that happen? 

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you. 

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you. 

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment. 

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy. 

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her. 

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against. 

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time. 

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now. 

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly. 

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to. 

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out. 

"I'm Lisa." 

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease. 

"Likewise, beautiful." 

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced. 

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips. 

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing. 

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again." 

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire. 

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes. 

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise. 

"That sounds wonderful." 

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever. 

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close. 

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed. 

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off. 

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up. 

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors. 

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof. 

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you. 

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over. 

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself. 

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away. 

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window. 

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now. 

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building. 

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations. 

She does a twirl, looking around. 

"It's gorgeous." 

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up. 

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out. 

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms. 

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her. 

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months." 

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself. 

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking. 

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains. 

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters. 

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh. 

"Maybe, but it's the truth." 

"Sure, Lisa." 

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms. 

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace. 

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song. 

Turning Page, you recognize it as.  

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites. 

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too." 

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud… 

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it. 

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you. 

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is. 

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush" 

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly. 

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you. 

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second. 

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss. 

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping. 

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up. 

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck. 

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late. 

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey. 

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too. 

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her. 

"Please…" 

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more. 

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go. 

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there. 

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before. 

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there. 

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask. 

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

Never Really Over

Pairing: Model!Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 21,684

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Smut, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hi, everyone. I really hope you enjoy this fic 💜 It took me a long time to finish it and it might be a little messy in some places, but I hope it's worth the wait. Happy reading 🌹

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It's cold, when your journey begins. 

Chilly, early December air nips at your cheeks before swirling down to raise the ends of your trench coat as you march your way down 5th Avenue. 

Crunch, crunch, crunch

Each hit of your boots against the sidewalk is precise, final. Something about them resembles a warning sign, though you can't quite explain it. 

Perhaps it's the rhythmic scrape that accompanies each footfall, made by the rock that worked its way into one of the rubber grooves earlier.

Yeah, you think to yourself. That's it. 

Bright, shimmering lights of the city around you all vie for any attention they can get, and you watch as couples and tourists alike all flock to the usual spots. Some eagerly dart into the bakeries that your town's known for, while others step up to vibrant kiosks on the street corners to buy overpriced trinkets and knick knacks. 

A feeling of nostalgia settles deep in your bones as you pry your eyes away and pull your jacket tighter around yourself, both in search of its warmth and the comfort that it provides. 

It's a sanctuary, more or less. From the jealousy you feel upon witnessing their happiness. 

From the cold shoulder of loneliness.

The worn-in seams welcome you without judgment, and the small stitching on the inside of your right sleeve gives you something you can't live without. 

K.J., it reads. 

You always used to tell her how much you missed her when she was away, so she had her initials put in the familiar material just for you. She gave you the coat on your birthday so you could always have a piece of her with you, and you'd never been happier than you were that day.

But now, over 2 years later, that's about the only thing you have left of her. 

The ache in your chest, too, of course, but you can only really blame yourself for that.

Pockets of conversation fill the evening air around you as you pass by different crowds, still set on your way towards the restaurant that you ordered some food from. The delivery fee was far too much for such a short distance, and so you decided to just trek the few blocks there and grab it. 

A quiet buzz from the neon lights above you can be heard as you turn the corner, each step bringing you even closer to your destination, and a small smile works its way onto your face. Bittersweet, though it still shines in its own way. 

La Belle, reads the sign that you know all too well. Its oval surface is rimmed with a dark shade of brown, slightly chipped from the elements, while the middle is a pristine oak color -- untouched. 

A tiny bell dings as you open the door and walk inside, glancing around the lowkey space. The lights are dimmed as people converse with one another, some flirting over the rims of their martinis while others talk business. A family is seated next to the window as well, seemingly celebrating a birthday of one of the children. 

I'm 6! is displayed across a party hat in fun letters, sitting atop the head of the smallest at the table. Her sweet grin widens when she sees you, briefly locking eyes with a subtle wave, and the heavy feeling looming over you lifts, if only a little. 

"Welcome to La Belle," a pleasant voice introduces, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn to the left, greeted by a blonde woman who's waiting behind the hostess stand. 

"How may I help you?" She asks, voice rich with a southern drawl. 

"I'm here for a pick-up order. Y/N," you tell her, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. 

She pushes a few buttons on the tablet that sits in front of her, efficiently checking on the status of your food. "It looks like we'll have it ready in about 5 minutes. If you'd like, you can take a seat over there and we'll bring it right out." 

She points to a line of chairs behind you, maybe 4 or 5 red-cushioned seats, and you nod. 

"Thank you." 

"Of course, Miss." 

You make your way over and sit down, leaning back as you survey the place some more. Posters and picture frames adorn the walls, mix-matched in their contents and yet never coming across as tacky or out of place. Everything looks as if it's meant to be exactly where it is. 

One painting in particular stands apart from all the rest, though: the centerpiece of the restaurant, displayed in the middle of the dining room's back wall. It stretches out quite a ways, almost as more of a mural than a regular painting, and pictures two lovers. 

One is more androgynous in their appearance, clad in a tunic and cloak as their shoulder length hair falls in soft waves. The other, feminine in every way, dons a floral dress that stops just above her ankles. 

Standing beneath the partially enclosed space of a beautiful veranda, their meeting place is secretive -- a quiet escape for the both of them. Their arms are outstretched towards one another as they rush to meet in the center of the room; you've always loved how the artist captured their movements perfectly. 

The woman's dress ruffles as she hurries towards her lover, likely having been separated for some time, and the cloak that the other wears ripples with movement. 

Their fingertips lightly brush against each other, but just barely; they haven't yet reached one another. Smiles adorn their faces, vibrant and contagious the longer you look; just at the sight of one another, they're smitten once more. 

And you can see it. 

You can see the eagerness that lies behind their eyes as they peer at one another, having missed the simple pleasure beyond words. An urgency fuels their movements -- draws them to one another. The longing they feel is tangible, and now you feel it, too. 

You try to reason that it's just because of the artist's talent, but you know you're kidding yourself. 

It's obvious, really, why you're feeling this way now. For when Jisoo was sat beside you at one of those linen-topped tables in this very dining room all that time ago, admiring the work displayed, you never really understood the piece. 

She was yours then, and you never had to miss her like the lovers pictured there do.

The intention and passion was all there -- all grasped by you -- but you failed to notice the way their muscles strained beneath their clothes, peeking out of the areas that their garments exposed. You failed to realize then why they were so determined to be reunited. 

But now, sitting here in the lobby of a place you once loved being, you've never felt more alone. You've never understood their reasoning more.

Your back presses against the cool metal bars of the chair, and for a moment, you try to remember what it felt like to sit at your regular table here. 

Number 4, you recall. 

It was Jisoo's favorite, and ever since you brought her here for your first date, it had been yours. The owners knew you, and their faces always seemed to light up when you walked in the building, hand in hand. They'd shout their greetings if the lobby was loud, or come out to say hello if it was a quiet night. 

Jisoo had decided early on to work her way through the menu, trying a new dish every time you came, but you were never that adventurous. You'd try the bites she offered you, of course, and they were delicious, but you tended to stick with one of your usual meals. Your enjoyment came from seeing her happy and well-fed anyway, so you were never really missing out. 

Back in present-time, you find yourself smiling despite the ache in your chest -- that incessant, double-edged sword of a feeling you get anytime she pops into your mind. It's a curse to have been so close to her once, because now her absence is even more painful. The quirks and particulars that you spent years molding your life around are gone now, taken with her the moment she left. 

Sometimes you even still place your bag on the second rung of the hanger back home, absentmindedly leaving the first space open for her out of habit. 

It's little things like that that serve as a reminder of how she truly took a piece of you with her when you parted,  moving on to bigger and better things than you could ever offer her. You can't blame her, though, seeing as how you pushed her away.

It was bound to happen eventually, you attempt to cope. You've spent the past two years telling yourself that anyway, and you don't plan to stop now. 

"Order for Y/N!" 

Right, you think. Enough moping.

You stand and readjust your clothes, knowing your hands will be too full to do it later. A fake smile lands on your face out of instinct, and you hold it as best you can as you approach the hostess stand. 

"Here you go," the blonde from before says, handing you the bags. You take them gingerly, not wanting anything to spill. 

"Thank you very much," you bow lightly. "Have a wonderful evening." 

She reciprocates the kind words before you turn to leave, and you keep the cheery facade up until you reach the front door. As you press a shoulder into the metal bar and open it, you allow the corners of your lips to fall again, back to where they usually rest. 

A blast of cold air greets you, and you welcome the brisk sting in full. Oddly enough, it feels nice. 

---

Crunch, crunch, crunch

Back on your path home, you let your body take over. Your muscles remember the way perfectly, and your mind has found a better way to occupy itself. 

Namely, with thoughts of the impending holiday that lurks just around the corner. Decorations are already up, strung about the lampposts and displayed in store fronts throughout the streets, but you have a hard time feeling all that joyful. 

Your closest friends have plans to come over and spend the weekend before Christmas with you (and you're definitely looking forward to it), but even still, something feels out of place around this time of year. 

You've busied yourself with planning and putting things on layaway early to keep from getting too overwhelmed later, and it's proven successful thus far. A mental image of the remote control car you're getting for your young cousin is conjured up, and you smile as you turn down another block -- after this, you have just one left until you're home. 

The cute giggle that he'll surely let out warms your heart, and you replay the noise that you've committed to memory back in your mind.

Apparently you were too caught up in your own little world to notice the couple headed straight for you. Their attention was elsewhere, too, so it was inevitable for the run-in to happen. 

The strong shoulder of a well-built man knocks into yours, sending one of the bags in your hands to the ground and making you stumble. A feminine gasp can be heard from above, followed by the man apologizing as he reaches down to help you. 

"Shit, I'm sorry," he says sincerely, picking up one of the busted take-out boxes and handing it to you. You look up and find a regretful expression on his face. 

"Don't worry about it," you reply, though you're annoyed at the inconvenience. Who knows how much of your food will be salvageable now?

You continue to grab the boxes and put them back in the bag as quickly as possible so as to not let them lose even more heat. Just as you finish up and go to stand, you hear something you never would've expected. 

"Here, let me give you some cash to replace the meal. We're really sorry." 

You freeze in place and suck in a breath at the sound of that familiar voice. 

Why is she here?

Turning your head, you're greeted by none other than Jisoo, who's digging in her purse for some money. She hasn't noticed you yet, and you can't decide if you want to run away before she can or stay right where you are until she does. 

It's a tough decision, but ultimately it's made for you when she raises her head to address you.

"Here you go--"

Oh shit.

Her jaw goes slightly slack as her eyes dart across your features, searching for proof that you're actually you. You look just like she remembers, albeit a bit more worn and jaded, but still… you.

Neither of you know what to say next. You're shocked into immobilization with little else to do but stare at one another. 

She regards you slowly, allowing her eyes to track up and over the curves of your body just as they had a million times in the past. She studies you -- looking for things that have changed in her absence. 

And you, lacking any foresight or care as to how it'll affect your heart, do the same. 

You admire how good she looks, though it hurts to see her so happy and lively. She's dressed to the nines in a plaid dress that reaches its way to her knees, keeping her body heat stored in its knitted material. She sports a long overcoat, too, and your worries are eased.

She could freeze out here, after all. 

Her chest tightens at the sight of you in her coat, though you'd never know it by the look of her. Her expression remains stoic, and you bite the inside of your cheek at the selfish desire that crosses your mind: you want her to be upset. 

Indifference is something you hadn't prepared yourself for. 

But what confuses you more, is that her eyes have seemed to lose a little vibrance as well. They're missing some refined quality that they had when she was yours, but you don't allow yourself to dwell on it too long.

When the man beside her shifts, likely confused at the moment you're sharing, she blinks a few times as if to bring herself back to her senses.

You clear your throat. "That's not necessary," you shake your head and point at the money in her hand. "It was an accident." 

She takes a hint of a step closer, and your chest tightens. Merely two minutes with her in your vicinity again and you're losing what progress you've made over the years. 

"Please, it's the least we can do." She presses her lips together, unknowingly drawing your attention to them. Her fingers beg to reach out and touch you.

You fake another smile and glance at her boyfriend before returning your gaze to her. "Truly, it's fine. Enjoy your night." 

You take a deep breath of the evening air and hold it in your lungs as you turn away, willing yourself to press on. If you look back and see her watching you go, you'll be tempted to run back to her and do something reckless.

She's moved on, Y/N. Let it go. 

That's the mantra you repeat to yourself until you've made it back to your apartment, but once you've crossed the threshold and sat your things down, the tears come falling. You sit at your table and cry. 

For all the mistakes you made in the past. 

For all the ones you continue to make. 

Her mere presence -- a fleeting moment in time that won't matter to her by morning -- is enough to shake up your world yet again. 

Seeing her with him was arguably worse than not seeing her at all. 

For you've created a barrier of sorts, over the years. You've hardened your heart at every mention of her -- every accidental slip of her name from one of your friends or family members -- and blocked out as many memories as you can. 

But that's the thing with her, you see. 

She's an enigma, and with every part of you that tries to forget her, there's an equal and opposite part that will always welcome her back in in any way possible. 

Tonight, it seems to be her eyes. Oh, how they haunt you. 

------

Jisoo

A soft chuckle draws her from the stupor that you put her in yet again, and she quietly curses to herself.

It comes from beside her, and it's accompanied by a puff of breath that turns white in the increasingly frigid atmosphere. 

"I take it that you know her?" 

She swallows, setting her jaw. "Yeah, I do." 

The man falls in step with her as they continue their walk, but Jisoo's mind is elsewhere. She nods and hums along in mock responses to him, but they're simply her body's doing. She's too busy wondering what you've been up to. 

You looked better than she had anticipated, though she never expected to run into you again; she's heard that you tend to keep to yourself nowadays. 

So, as one could guess, when she laid eyes on you again for the first time in two years, it quite literally sent her reeling. She wanted to reach out and touch you, just to prove that you weren't a figment of her imagination, or even just to talk to you. 

There are so many things she wants to say. 

But something tells her that that opportunity won't come. She sensed it in the way you retreated back into yourself before leaving earlier -- in how you closed another door by walking away. She shouldn't have wanted you to stay -- especially considering everything that's happened -- but she can't deny that she did. 

You have more of a hold on her than she previously realized, and feelings are flooding back in more ways than she appreciates. 

She thought she had it all figured out. That when you ended things and left, she picked herself up and moved on for good. Her friends worked hard to pull her out of that place and get her going again, but now it appears to have all been shoddily done. 

Their attempts to rebuild her self-restraint have nearly failed, and now all she wants to do is chase you and get the answers that she so rightly deserves. 

But, she knows she can't. She knows she has to live the life that she's built for herself without you, and not the one her heart truly wants. 

Because no matter where the two of you stand, for her, it'll always be you. 

-------

3 Days Later

To say you've been a wreck is the understatement of the century. 

The weekend passed by in a blur of tears and comfort food, and now you're sat back at your desk, tiredly typing away at your company-provided computer like nothing happened. Your coworkers can tell that something definitely happened, but none of them dare approach you and ask. 

For once, you find yourself thanking the universe for its lack of empathetic people. 

The keys are quick to spring back against your fingertips as you work through numerous reports given to you, and you occasionally sign off on the chart that rests on the table in front of you, documenting each paper finished. This monotonous cycle continues until you get a call from one of your friends and decide it's time for a break. 

Nini 🐻🥟 is displayed at the top of your screen, and you smile to yourself as you stand from your desk and answer it. 

"There she is," she chirps, sounding happy that you picked up. You may or may not have spent the past 72 hours ghosting people in order to grovel and wallow in self pity. 

Definitely not your finest hour, but who's judging?

"How's my favorite girl doing?" She asks.

You decide to cut to the chase; she'll get the info out of you at some point, so you'd rather just get it over with now and spare yourself from the back and forth. 

"Well, between work and seeing my ex again, not the greatest." You chuckle, despite the lack of humor in your words. 

It's a habit you use to comfort yourself, and Jennie knows it. 

"When did you see her?" 

She already knows who the ex in question is, too, because you've yet to date anyone since Jisoo, and she's left the greatest impact. Jennie can't say that she'd expect you to be this upset over anyone else you've been with, no offense to them.

"Friday. Her new boyfriend bumped into me and made me drop my takeout; can you believe it?"

"Ouch," she sighs, feigning hurt. "Brutal." 

You click your tongue. "I know, I know. Woe is me, and all that." 

She laughs, and you do too. 

"What's she doing back in town?" She muses. 

"Hell if I know," you shrug, grabbing a donut from the break room as you head for the elevator. You intend to spend your few minutes of freedom outside.

"They looked like they were out sightseeing, though. Maybe grabbing some dinner or something, from how nice they were dressed." 

"You think she came all the way back here for that?"

"You never know," you say, swallowing a sweet mouthful of the pastry.

"Maybe it's for work," she suggests. 

"An elite model like her back in a mediocre place like this?" You ask, holding back a laugh. "What, is she gonna pose outside the McDonald's on Main Street?" 

She giggles at that. "Alright, fair enough. I'm just trying to figure it out!" 

"I appreciate the concern, Nini, but I've decided to block her out of my thoughts. Starting… now."

"And knowing you, that'll last until….," she pauses, going silent. "...now." She plays, using your words against you. 

Your mouth hangs open, and though she can't see it, she can picture it clearly. She laughs loudly through the phone. "I don't know who paid you to clown on me, but you're doing a great job. Send my kudos to them." 

"Such a baby," she groans. 

Another chuckle slips past your lips before you decide to move on. 

"How've you been, Miss Kim? Get into any trouble lately?" 

"Stressed as usual, but no trouble. The girls planned a secret getaway for all of us, though. You can thank Rosie for the slip up." 

You smile, reminded of how notorious the Australian is for spoiling things on accident. 

"That's actually one of the reasons I called," Jennie concludes. 

"To brag?"

"No, babo; to invite you." 

You sit on one of the benches in the square outside, right next to a perfectly trimmed hedge. "When are you set to leave?" 

"Wednesday night. And don't even try to tell me that you don't have time saved up to take off work," she warns. "You've been working longer hours and picking up extra shifts left and right." 

You purse your lips. "You've got me there." 

"So will you come? I think it would be good for you to get away for a little while." 

You inwardly sigh, contemplating her offer. Running away from your problems and spending the next few days with your friends sounds perfect, but you don't want to ruin their time off. 

"I wouldn't want to bring you all down, Jennie." 

"The only way that'll happen is if you send us there without you. We miss you, Y/N/N." She admits.

Ah, hell. What've you got to lose?

With a deep breath, you tell her exactly what she wants to hear. "Alright, I'll go."

In preparation for the impending attack on your ear drums, you hold the phone away from your ear. 

"YAAAAY!" She squeals, the noise still very audible even from a distance. 

It draws a chuckle from you nonetheless. "I'll see you Wednesday, Jen. Love you." 

"I can't wait. Love you more!" She sing-songs, before eventually hanging up to call Lisa and Rosé and give them the good news. Being included in their plans warms your heart, and seeing Jennie want you there so bad makes you feel like you belong. 

Aren't they the greatest?

You find a genuine smile pulling across your features as you take another bite of your snack and look out across the city, wondering where the secret location will be.

One fact cuts through your pondering though, reigning supreme: no matter how this trip plays out, you're in for a wild ride.

That's for sure.

----

Wednesday, 6:53 -- Jennie's Apartment 

"Y/N!"

In a matter of 3 seconds, you say your last words and make peace with your imminent demise. 

Your three best friends race towards the front door, where you're stood in a cozy sweater and joggers. The perfect travel outfit.

They engulf you in a hug, nearly knocking you over from the sheer force of their love.

"You're alive!" Lisa shouts. 

"We've missed you so much!" Rosie follows.

You eventually pull away before they can smother you -- though, to be fair, if you had to choose a way to leave this world that would definitely be high on the list -- and you grin at them. Rosie smooths your mussed hair as Lisa fights the urge to pinch your cheeks, as she always does. 

Before long, she gives in. 

"We're so glad you're here." Jennie puts her hand on your shoulder, smiling her gummy smile at you.

"Thanks for inviting me," you say. Your words are slightly altered from Lisa's movements, and so you bat her hands away. 

She chuckles like a misbehaving kid. 

"Are you guys ready to go?" You ask, peering past them and into the living room. Their suitcases are nowhere to be found. 

"Mhm," Rosie nods. "The car's already loaded up. We've just gotta put your stuff in and then we're ready." 

You nod, clasping your hands together. Despite everything, you'd be lying to say you aren't excited to see where they're planning to take you. They always seem to pick the best places.

After a last sweep of the house to ensure that nothing important is left behind, the four of you head out to the car. Lisa has her arms around you, cuddling in close when a chilly breeze rolls in, and you rub her back to offer some additional warmth. 

She smiles appreciatively against your shoulder. 

"So," you start, once you're all inside the car. "Where are we going?" 

"That's for us to know and you to find out," Jennie quips as she reaches to her side for the seatbelt. 

"But--"

"Ah, ah, ah, just go with it. We promise that you'll love it." Rosie says, nodding reassuringly. Upon seeing the confident grin on her face, you relent. 

"Fine," you grumble, sulking. "But I'm not putting on a blin--"

A sleek piece of fabric falls against your hand, cutting you off. 

"...blindfold." You finish, pulling a face. 

"Just this once," Jennie attempts to bargain, smiling sweetly at you. She puts her hands underneath her chin and bats her eyelashes, making you laugh. 

With a dramatic sigh, you agree. The girls cheer loudly together, and you turn in your chair slightly so one of them can tie it in the back. 

Shaking your head at their antics, you still can't help but laugh. They let out another victory shout before Jennie pulls out of her driveway and the four of you get started on your journey. 

-----

Three Hours Later

The tires of Jennie's car crunch as they pass over the salted roads that lead you closer to your destination. Some pieces work their way into the treads and grooves, serving as a reminder of where you've been. 

You crest another hill, and then it's in view. At least for the rest of the girls it is.

An icy range of snow capped mountains serves as a perfect backdrop against the evening sky, sloping down in streaks of white and blue towards the sizable village below. Lamp posts and houses alike offer up their golden light, illuminating the area around them and creating a cozy aura. 

In one fluid motion, Rosie reaches forward to untie the fabric and take it off of you. She wants you to experience this place's beauty for yourself.

"Wow," you sigh, pressing closer to the car's window. Your gentle breaths fog the surface, but you're too intrigued by the sight before you to notice. More trees line the sides of the road as you make your partially spiraled descent down the hill, at times blocking out the sky above you with their thick branches and leaves. Their canopies are dark and brooding, yet they bring a sense of safety and comfort along with them.

This place is as mysterious as it is alluring. 

♡《》♡《》♡

In varying degrees of haste, the four doors of Jennie's car are opened by each of you. 

Lisa, just waking up from a nap, shakes the numbness from her arm and rubs her sleepy eyes as she steps out. Her breath becomes a puff of white air as she admires the building before you.

Rosie, full of energy from the five snacks that she had along the way, practically leaps from the car. She jumps a little as she gapes at the resort, knocking into Jennie in her excited state. The brunette just smiles at her, happy that she's happy. 

And then there's you. You step out curiously, taking in your surroundings. A winter resort isn't exactly what you expected for the girls to choose, but then again you never really know what to expect from them. They always keep you on your toes. 

As you gaze up at the golden lamps strung up across the entrance, you're suddenly pelted with something cold. A mischievous smile graces Lisa's face, and you glance down at your body, finding a ring of residual snow on the material of your sweater. The area of impact is right at the center of your stomach. 

Your eyes narrow at her, half comical and half serious. "It's on." 

In a flash, the four of you are reaching wildly for nearby snow and packing it into weapons of destruction. The next blow is dealt by Rosé, who fires off a spiraling and lopsided snowball at Jennie. It hits her in the shoulder, but she's quick to retaliate. Rosie's subsequent squeal pierces the air, and you laugh. 

The moment doesn't last long, though. Lisa's ears perk up at the sound, and in a move that decides teams, she launches another chilly snowball at you to defend Rosie's honor. 

"Y/N, look out!" Jennie bellows, running towards you. Her boots slide across the ice, but she makes it to you in time to push you out of the line of fire. Instead of hitting you, the snowball hits her chest, right over her heart.

"No!" You cry out, catching her as she falls. You sink to the ground with her dramatically, wiping the hair from her face and telling her to hold on. 

"Y/N, I'm not gonna make it," she coughs, gripping your shoulder. 

"No, Jen, don't give up. Don't go towards the light." You pull her closer, holding her body next to yours. 

"Avenge me," she whispers, shakily holding another snowball up to you before rolling over. 

You take it from her and set her down, now glaring at the other two. "This is for Jennie!" You shout like a battle cry as you rise, hitting Rosie in the leg with the snowball before tackling Lisa into a soft pile of snow next to one of the bushes. She groans, and you waste no time in gathering handfuls of the powdery substance and sprinkling it all over her head. 

"Ah!" She shrieks, feeling the coldness seep in all over. 

"Hands off!" Comes Rosé's voice, as she grabs you and tumbles to the side. She holds you down, pressing you into the snow to keep you from getting up. 

Lisa stands to tower over you, looking victorious. She casually compresses another handful of snow together, oblivious to what's happening behind her as she takes her sweet time. 

"You thought you could defeat the Chaelisa?" She tuts at you, in typical villain fashion. "Not possible, Y/N/N. We're the--"

"Ahhh!" 

Before your very eyes, a magically resurrected Jennie fires off a flurry of tiny ice balls, making Lisa jump and dance around with each prick of them against her skin. 

"Ow, ow, OW!" She returns, spinning around to face her attacker. Now, you have an opening. 

"Sorry Rosie," you apologize, before releasing a frigid handful of snow down the front of her shirt. A shrill scream sounds off as she rolls away, and you leap up and disarm Lisa. You wrestle the snowball away from her before ultimately managing to restrain her. Jennie emerges from her cover behind one of the pillars to do the honors. 

"You were wrong, Lisa. Y/Ship/N (Your Ship Name w/ Jennie) will always win!" 

Following one last, icy blow to the stomach, Lisa sinks to her knees in defeat. You wrap your arms around Jennie victoriously and spin her around, laughing happily. 

---

30 Minutes Later -- Room 417

Following your epic battle on the front lawn of the resort, you were welcomed with warm smiles and salutes from the staff. They got you checked in with no issue and gave you instructions on how to reach the room that the girls booked. 

Now safe and sound inside of it, you're flicking through the channels of the flatscreen TV in search of something you can all agree on. Below it is a large fireplace, where Jennie is preparing a sizable fire for you. Lisa tried first, but now she's at the kitchen island lamenting about her half-singed eyebrow. 

Rosé's preparing some popcorn and drinks for you and doing all she can to contain her laughter at the younger girl. 

You eventually land on a movie that you've all been meaning to watch, and your ragtag group gathers together on the large, plush couch. Rosé fans out a fluffy blanket that she found in one of the closets, spreading it over all of you as you settle in and cuddle close. 

"What do you guys want to do tomorrow?" Jennie asks, once a commercial break begins and as she brings a few pieces of popcorn to her lips. 

A pouting Lisa perks up a bit at this. "I wanna sled." 

"Maybe we could check out some of the stores in the village. I heard a lot of people talking about them in the lobby," Rosie suggests. 

Jennie nods, thinking. "What about you, Y/N?" 

"I've always wanted to try skiing," you grin. 

"Sounds like we've got a long day ahead of us, then," she notes, smiling back at all of you. "I'm excited." 

"Me too," you say, squeezing her hand beneath the blanket. She lays her head on your shoulder as the movie comes back on, and you stretch an arm out to lay across Rosie and Lisa, giving them affection as well. This little trip is already proving therapeutic; you're really glad you came. 

[**☆**]

11:16 PM

Clearly, the drive up took a toll on the girls. Quiet snoring surrounds you on both sides -- they didn't even make it through the whole movie without passing out. Lisa had been the last one awake, fighting sleep in order to talk to you and comment on what poor choices the characters were making, but she too fell victim to slumber's sweet embrace. 

With a soft smile, you stand up from the couch and put a pillow down where you had been; carefully, you cover the girls up again. Jennie mumbles something in her sleep, pulling the pillow closer to her, and Rosie stretches a leg across Lisa as she repositions herself. 

They look so precious in the moment that you just admire them for a minute, thanking the universe for such wonderful friends. Once you're done being sappy, though, you pick your phone up from the coffee table and snap a picture of them so that you can embarrass them later. The drool on Rosie's lip really adds to it; you're sure she'll be complaining about that for the next century. 

The sight of them reminds you of your own lack of drowsiness, though, and you sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. It's only reasonable that you should be exhausted, but you just can't seem to wind down. Something's keeping you from it, and you know it'll be ages until you fall asleep. So, instead of waiting around, you write up a note for the girls, telling them that you're heading downstairs to look around a bit. 

You hope a walk will quiet your mind and make you drowsy enough to get some decent rest tonight. 

--

Main Lobby

Despite what time it is, the lobby is still relatively active. Families file in with carts of luggage in tow, hauled by bellhops with concerned looks on their faces. A few couples stroll about, cheeks flushed and noses red from more than just the cold that they braved to get in.

It's all comforting, in some strange way, but entirely nostalgic all the same. For every smile the sights inspire, an equal pang of jealousy flutters in your heart. You hate that, but it's the bitter truth. 

The foyer -- which you cross in favor of getting something to drink from the sleek bar that gleams to you from the far wall -- is decorated wonderfully. Holiday lights are strung across the space, just like they are in the rest of the village. It's like this time of year is all that this place knows; it's stuck here in time, only ever repeating the months of December to February. But it's beautiful nonetheless, and you're determined to enjoy it while you're here. 

A suave bartender takes your order courteously, and you earn yourself a flash of her white smile when you give it. 

"One hot cocoa, please," you said. She wasn't expecting that from you, given that you're over the age of 10 and at a bar this late at night, but it was a pleasant surprise. 

She returned one steaming cup of it to you as soon as it was done, and you slid the dollar bill that you had been toying with across the bar to her in reply. A simple nod from you was all she needed, and she took the money with another grin before heading towards another customer. 

-

Small, delicate snowflakes coat the clothes of stray guests that filter in through the side door, all mumbling about either how pretty the place is or how close to hypothermia they've teetered. 

There really are two kinds of people in this world.

Their laughter fills the halls as you squeeze past them, clutching your drink close to your chest in a way of bracing for the cold that you're about to encounter. It staves off the initial gust as you press into the door, opening it with your hip and shoulder. 

A large, crackling campfire resides in the middle of the open space, serving as a beacon. Its flames reach up into the sky, flickering and dancing as people converse around it. Deep-set oak chairs and couches alike all form a circle around it, far enough away to keep from getting too hot but close enough to stay plenty warm. 

A layer of snow coats the ground, left altered by the imprints of your shoes as you shuffle towards one of the open chairs. It's chilly, and you unconsciously suck in a breath as your body sinks down into it; the warmth that you're radiating leaves you faster now in an attempt to lend itself to the frigid surface. But thankfully, just as quickly as it seeps from the thick material of your joggers, it's replenished by the cozy fire. 

You stay there for the next little while, not necessarily keeping track of the time. You judge its passage by how long it takes you to finish your drink and how long it takes the cold to spread from the ends of your fingertips to the rest of your hands.

The night sky is full of stars, all twinkling their brilliant light for the universe. They match the full moon, balanced between white and deep grey. All the way out here, miles and miles from the bog that resides over the city, you're able to really appreciate them. 

The atmosphere itself here is an escape, too. Fresh air is abundant -- not processed or cycled through purifiers. The trees and greenery offer it up readily, and you take it in as you rest your head against the back of the chair. 

From your seat, you can see one of the slopes of the resort. It's dotted with guests, some in groups and some alone. An array of equipment is strapped to them -- everything from sleds, inner tubes, skiis, and snowboards. A smile crosses your face as you see a teenage boy wipeout in front of his friends and attempt to hide his embarrassment. 

Just as he stands, hands fisted in his pockets, a young girl is celebrating her first successful ride down the hill without her parents. They embrace each other, all smiles and giggles. 

It all puts things into perspective, oddly enough: people can be less than a foot away from each other on Earth and yet be worlds apart in their journeys. While that teenager was contemplating changing his identity from embarrassment, the little girl was unlocking a core memory for herself. 

It's an interesting thing to think about, and you mull it over for a bit as you continue people watching.

-

Later, as you're getting ready to call it a night, a slightly inebriated man bumps into your chair from behind. He steadies himself on it, but in his clumsy reach to do so his palm accidentally brushes against the back of your neck. You tense, barely holding back a hiss of surprise as the man and his wife humbly apologize. 

You swallow down the feeling bubbling within you and give them a word of absolvement, though you avert your gaze as they walk away. 

You close your eyes, but it’s too late to stop it.

Flashback

The calluses of his large right hand rub against the back of your neck as he leads you past a few small crowds of guests, attempting to contain his seething anger. Tight lipped smiles are given to please them and save face, but before long he's shoving you out into the middle of the hallway and shutting the door behind himself. 

"Why must you always ruin things, Y/N?" He asks, sounding tired but unsurprised. 

You straighten your posture and smooth your clothes out, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. 

"Mr. Kim, please enlighten me as to what I've done now." 

"Do you not have any common sense?" His voice is full of disbelief, and his eyes shoot daggers into you. "That young man in there is one of the executives of Styline. Had you not stolen Jisoo's attention away, they would've secured her first endorsement." 

Your brows furrow. "Sir, I've been following your wishes to stay away from her tonight. I wasn't even in her vicinity." He blames you for a lot when it comes to her, but this is getting out of hand. You've specifically fought your own personal wishes to appease the unappeasable, and clearly it was all for nothing. 

"That doesn't matter, you're still in her head and distracting her! She's clearly taken with you, and that's a problem. You can never offer her what she needs." His voice lacks any sympathy for what he says.

You set your jaw, feeling a blush of both anger and embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.

"You sound so sure." You spit back. 

"Because I am," he nods resolutely. "For her, I tried to give you a chance. I attempted to look past your shortcomings and measly ways of life to make her happy, but it's incredibly clear that you aren't what she needs. You, Y/N, are a no one in her world. Once she's started her career, she'll be meeting with people better than you on the daily. You simply don't match." 

Hot tears of anger brim in your eyes, just begging to fall with every new, venomous word that slips out of his mouth. They're vile and harsh, but they do their job well; you begin to question their validity.

"Now," he says, adjusting the golden pins at the end of his cuffs. "Before the night is over, you'll end things with her." 

This, you refuse. Your head snaps up just as your broken gaze meets his haughty one, and you're quick to speak up. "I won't."

"You will," he smiles, already knowing he's won. He takes a step closer to you, looking smug. The sharp scent of his aftershave stings your nose. 

"Do you know how many contacts I have in this town, Y/N? I could have you fired with little more than a phone call. Do you understand me?" 

You fall silent, not knowing what to say. 

"If you want to keep the sad little life you have right now going, I suggest you do as I say. Otherwise I promise you won't be happy with what I'll do to you." 

"You can't threaten me like this. Do you seriously think I won't tell Jisoo?"

He purses his lips, pretending to think. "I know you won't, because it'll make all of this harder." He fakes a pout. "Would you rather her resent me -- someone she'll be seeing constantly throughout her life -- or you, someone she can easily leave behind and forget? Would you really rather make her miserable like that?" 

You shake your head, constantly surprised by his cruelty. "What the hell is wrong with you? All I've ever done is make her happy and protect her. I love your daughter and she loves me. Why does that bother you so much?" 

"Her love for you can be forgotten. She can have a successful life, far away from you and the limits your lifestyle puts on her. She was meant to be a star, Y/N, and you only prevent that from happening." 

"I won't stand here and be belittled like this anymore," you scoff, shaking your head. You turn and walk further down the hall, feeling more anger pump through your body with every heavy footfall.

Just as you reach the end of the corridor, though, you're greeted by two tall men with sketchy looks in their eyes. One cracks his knuckles just as you take a step back, and the other sizes you up. 

Mr. Kim sighs from behind you, still standing where you left him. "It really is a shame that you can't just listen, Y/N. Always making things difficult for everyone involved." 

He clicks his tongue before nodding at the men, and they step forward to grab you. 

>**<

That was one of the worst nights of your life, and the memories still make it feel like it happened yesterday. 

A fresh tear rolls down your cheek, made frigid as the night blows its chilly air your way, and you're quick to swipe it away. The cup in your hands -- more specifically the death grip that you now have on it -- brings you back down to Earth, and you're dragged away from the horrible memories of that night. 

The physical pain you felt then paled in comparison to the heartbreak that you caused Jisoo. Having to turn her gentle hands away as she attempted to heal your wounds was hard enough, but seeing her break down after you ended things was far, far worse. You wanted to apologize a million times over and confess the truth, but the terrible things that the men did to you reigned supreme in your mind. 

The sting of each hit rendered your fate even further immutable, and the warnings that you received about what could happen to you and your family members further sealed your lips. 

You agreed to keep Jisoo oblivious for the sake of everyone, but that didn't make things any easier. Clearly, time hasn't lessened the sting either. 

A hefty sigh pushes its way past your lips as you stand, no longer in the mood to be out here. Sleep still might not be achievable yet, but going up to the room sounds better than being surrounded by strangers right now.

You drop your cup in a waste basket just outside of the building and give a tight lipped smile to the worker who's tasked with stoking the fire and keeping it fed for the foreseeable future. He smiles back, his expression as warm as the fire itself. 

The French-style doors of the patio are opened for you, courtesy of a burly attendant. Kind blue eyes sit behind dark rimmed glasses, shining and pleasant to accompany his word of greeting as you enter the building. You return it in full, feeling the painful memories further retreat for the time being. 

You shake the cold from your body and rub your hands together, hoping to garner some warmth in them again. Jennie's earlier warning comes to mind suddenly, and you make a mental note to prepare yourself for the scolding you'll get if she finds out that you bore the cold sans gloves. Angry mandu incoming. 

Each hit of your shoes against the hardwood flooring of the hall sends an echo out, bouncing off the walls on its way. Paintings hang in meticulously chosen places, all arranged in perfect order. Some are abstract, filling the canvases with brushstrokes of passion rather than rhyme or reason, while others stay inside the lines that make typical people happy. 

They hang side by side, not a corner skewed or crooked in sight. 

The whole place is almost too perfect to be true. 

"Sir, we can accommodate the additional guests, but I'm afraid we'll have to charge you more to rent the larger hall. Yes, I'm aware--" 

You round a corner en route to the elevator, only to be met by the strong shoulder of a concierge. His ardent apologies are spoken with haste and through tight lips as he pulls his phone away from his cheek. 

Just as quickly as he appeared, he leaves; his dress shoes thunder on, announcing his departure.

Unable to help yourself, you listen in to the bargaining he does across the line. It fades as he gets further down the hall, only intriguing you more. With a quick glance around, you decide to follow him. 

-

Royal Hall

Once-quiet discussions are growing louder between the handful of people gathered within. A stern woman points to a printed schedule, harshly reprimanding what seems to be a nervous intern. Nearby, a balding man pokes a finger into the chest of an event organizer. 

The concierge ends his phone call as he approaches the room, and with a pleading look at the ceiling, he releases a breath of worry. 

He launches into a speech as soon as he steps through the doorway, and you press on, being careful to avoid attracting any attention. Muffled insults about his tardiness are audible even from outside, and you frown; these people surely have sticks up their asses for no good reason. 

No offense to people that enjoy that, though. To each their own.

Regardless, it's clear that whoever they are, they're irrational. 

"I just got off the phone with Mr. Kim; he'll be arriving within the next hour or so, and he's requested that we go ahead and start without him. We'll be changing venues tomorrow when more guests arrive as well."

"Finally, some fucking results around here," one of the men mutters, sending an annoyed glance at one of the other workers. 

"Shall I start the presentation?" The concierge stands in front of a laptop that sits on one of the long oak tables of the room, hooked up to a few different wires. 

The executives nod, and he clicks a few buttons until a slideshow fills the screen. Styline reads at the top, in pristine lettering. 

One of the executive's shrill voices asks, "Will Ms. Kim be in attendance?" 

You hold your breath at the mention of that name; it's a common surname, though, so you shouldn't get ahead of yourself. 

"Yes, ma'am. We reached an agreement with Cartier; their other models and ambassadors should be arriving soon as well." 

"Lovely," she says, smiling for the first time tonight. It looks a little strange, like she rarely does it and the muscles of her face are learning along with her. Still, it's better than what she was doing before. 

More images grace the screen as he flicks through the slide show, until a fateful one takes center stage. 

In shock, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sound of your gasp. A few heads turn towards the doorway anyway, still having heard something despite your efforts, and so you quickly move away from it. 

It's a gorgeous one of Jisoo. 

In shock, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sound of your gasp. A few heads turn towards the doorway anyway, still having heard something despite your efforts, and so you quickly move away from it. 

As you make a hasty retreat down the hall and towards the elevator, you hear the door creak open wider. A quick glance back earns you the sight of the concierge shutting the doors after checking the hallway for eavesdroppers. 

With a breath of relief, you press the elevator button and wait for it to arrive. Absently, and with millions of thoughts now racing through your mind, you step into it when it opens up. 

A beat of silence passes before you even realize you aren't alone. 

"What floor, Miss?"

The sudden question startles you, and you hide your face from the worker in embarrassment. 

"Four, please." 

She nods politely and presses the button for you. Her hands are covered by white gloves with beautiful golden designs printed on them.

The elevator stops on the 3rd floor, signaling that another passenger is getting on. It's a young woman and her son, and both of them are bundled up in multiple layers of clothing. You step aside and give them plenty of room to board. 

A singular dimple indents the boy's chubby cheek as he looks up at his mother, clearly excited for whatever they have planned; she runs a hand through his curly hair and smiles down at him, happy to see him happy. It's a sweet moment, and you feel yourself smiling at it, too. 

"No, appa. I'm here now, okay? I'll be taking the night off to rest."

Funny how quickly a smile can fade, huh?

Your eyes scan down the hallway in front of you at the sound of that voice; it's like your ears have been programmed to perk up at it ever since you met her. Jisoo stands in front of a room, fumbling with her wallet in search of her room key, you infer. Her cell phone is held to her cheek by her shoulder, precariously wedged into the space there. Two luggage bags sit at her feet, waiting to be taken in. 

"Miss, is everything alright?" The worker asks from behind you, sensing your sudden change in demeanor. Her finger hovers over the door close button, waiting on your answer.

You swallow, not entirely sure of what to do or say. "Yeah," you eventually eke out, "but I'll get off here instead. Thank you." 

"My pleasure. Have a good evening," she responds. You turn to her and return her kind words before cautiously taking a few steps down the hall. The elevator doors shut behind you a few seconds later with a soft whooshing sound. Jisoo's still talking to her father on the phone; she hasn't noticed you yet, and you don't know if you're happy or upset about that.

"I'll see you in the morning. Eleven o'clock, right?" 

His commanding voice can be heard across the line, crackling through the speaker, and you pull a face at it. You definitely haven't missed it after all this time. 

"That's right, my girl. Now don't get into any trouble tonight, and don't go crazy on room service. You'll have a busy day tomorrow and you need to look your best." 

You frown at his words; it doesn't surprise you that he has something to say about her maintaining her figure, but your lack of shock doesn't make it any better. She shouldn't be limited like that; God knows how much she deserves a break from the strict rules of it all. 

"Okay, dad. Good night." 

She hangs up with a sigh, but her subsequent movement is sorely miscalculated; her phone comes tumbling down, and it ends up sliding across the floor a ways. 

Halfway between you and her. 

She glances up from it to you, only to do a double take as she registers who you are. Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens slightly, going slack as she struggles with what to say. Wordlessly, you bend down and retrieve her phone, feeling its screen press to your palm. It isn't cracked, thankfully, and you turn it over in your hand as you approach her. 

"Hey," you say, lacking any better way of starting things. Your heart's beating faster now that you're face to face again, just the two of you, and you hope it isn't too painfully obvious. 

"Hey," she returns quietly, still shocked. Her eyes flit across your face, and when they pause on your lips for a beat longer than anywhere else, a pang of hope hits deep in your chest. It's misguided and foolish, you know; but it's there. 

"Can I help?"

She visibly contemplates your offer for a moment before ultimately agreeing. What's the worst that could happen? 

"Sure." She takes the phone from you and puts it in her pocket, stepping back a little so you can pick up the bags. The room key finally makes its way into her hand, and she slides it into the reader. 

A mechanical click sounds off, and she releases a nervous breath that you fail to notice as she opens the door. Well, nervousness isn't the only thing present… a part of her is undeniably excited, no matter how hard she may try to repress it.

You set the bags down just inside the room, as per her instruction. She heads to the kitchen to put the rest of her things down while you take in your surroundings. 

A fleeting glance around the suite shows you just how fancy the place really is. You thought your room looked expensive, but compared to this place it's merely a dog house. Pricey furniture and decorations sit in all the right places, looking straight out of a movie; even the paint on the walls is different -- more refined. 

A nearby vase on the entryway table catches your eye, making you bend down slightly to get a better look; accents of gold shimmer across its surface in beautiful, swirling patterns. You wonder for a moment if the gold is real.

"May I?" The question gets your attention, making you stand up straight.  

Her dark eyes scan up to yours almost shyly as she takes a step closer, and you're momentarily confused as to what she's asking. 

"Your coat," she clarifies, smiling softly. You nod and cast your gaze away, feeling a little embarrassed. 

She approaches you from behind as you slip the heavy material off your shoulders, and she holds the cuffs as you wiggle your arms out. When one gets stuck and you have to do a bit of a dance to get it loose, she can't contain her giggle. 

You blush at the sound, though you'd do just about anything to hear it again. It's been so long since you've had her like this -- all to yourself and away from prying eyes. You want to memorize each moment to come and store it away somewhere, just in case you never get to experience it again first hand. You hope with all your heart that things don't come to that, but your situation is tricky. 

You can't say you'd be surprised if things go back to how they were before, with you and Jisoo standing lightyears apart. 

The brunette disappears back into the kitchen to retrieve a couple drinks for you before leading you towards the living room area of the suite. She turns and hands you your glass, gently ushering you to the loveseat. 

She sits on the adjacent couch, looking elegant as she settles onto it. The leather surface looks sleek and modern, and she fits right in. 

You, on the other hand, stick out.

"So…" you start after a moment, desperately wanting to cut through the tension in the room. "What brings you to the resort?" Despite the fact that you already kind of know, you want her to confirm it. Besides, hearing her voice is a reward in and of itself. 

She takes a sip of her drink, peeking over the rim at you. 

"One of the brands that I endorse flew me out here for some photoshoots, and they paid for my stay here. I couldn't pass up the opportunity, so I came."

You hum, thinking to yourself as you begin to toy with your fingers; Jisoo notices. She's always been someone who pays attention to details. 

"And you? What's a homebody like you doing so far from the city?" The smile on her lips can be heard through the words, but the sound makes your heart ache just a little. 

You see, that was one of the lies you had to make up when you ended things. You had to make her believe that your differences ran as deep as that -- that while her place was in the public eye, yours was hidden away somewhere. Truth be told, you've always loved to travel and experience new things. And a part of Jisoo knew this; after all, she spent years of her life by your side. 

But that night radically changed things; you had to say things you didn't mean and become a person you really aren't. It was hard, but for her, you'd do anything. 

"Little vacation from work," you say, finally speaking up again. "The girls invited me. Couldn't pass up the opportunity, you know?" A hint of a smile plays on your lips as you use her line, and she looks up at you. 

You try to ignore the pang of guilt you feel when something unreadable flashes across her face. They were her friends too when you were together, and the split cost her more than you even realized at the time.

She didn't just lose you. She lost them too.

Taking a deep breath, you run a hand up and down your pant leg in an attempt to self soothe. 

"Are you enjoying yourself?" She asks softly. "Are you happy?" 

Those questions alone feel like a slap to the face, but what's more is the tone of her voice. It's genuine -- curious -- despite the fact that she really shouldn't even care. If you didn't know better, you'd attempt to play it off as her simply asking in order to be polite; but, of course, you know her too well for that. 

Her heart is far too big for her own good sometimes. 

You fiddle with one of the rings on your finger as you contemplate how to answer her, twisting and spinning the band across your skin until you've made up your mind. 

"No." You say it truthfully, unwavering. 

"No?" She repeats, voice conveying some emotion you can't quite place. The optimist in you would call it hope, but the cynic would beg to differ. 

"I mean, sometimes, sure. But not truly," you admit, shrugging. "Not like before." 

She nods absently at that as her gaze makes its way to her lap. Her fingers toy with her glass as her brain attempts to process what you're saying and gauge her own emotions at the same time. 

"Are you?"

You attempt to sound neutral, but the air of hope that surrounds your question sells you out. It's obvious what you want her answer to be. 

A sad, lopsided smile of realization forms on her lips. It's not cheerful in the slightest. "Not like before." 

If at all possible, your heart breaks that much more. The only thing that could make what you experienced before worse is the notion that it was all for nothing -- that all this time suffering was felt by the both of you with no happy reprieve or end in sight. 

It's cruel and unusual.

"There's so much I want to say, Jisoo." It's a sorry, breathy acknowledgement of all the things you've been suppressing for so long. 

She doesn't respond right away.

Her lips press to the glass as she takes one final drink of her liquid courage, and she swallows the rich substance down fast. After replacing it on the table in front of her, she settles back into the cushions, getting ready for what she's been waiting on. 

She can finally get some closure. 

"Then speak, Y/N. I'm here to listen." 

With a calming breath, you begin. "I never meant to hurt you. Honestly; I can promise you that." 

She scoffs at your generic intro, but you don't take it to heart; it's easy to understand her reluctance to believe. Nevertheless, a new confession is playing on the tip of your tongue -- one you've mulled over ever since you parted ways -- and you know it's time to tell her.

"If I had had a say in what happened that night, we would still be together right now."

Her demeanor changes at this. Her perfectly-sculpted eyebrows furrow, showing that she can never be truly indifferent when it comes to you. She's intrigued, but incredulous all the same.

"If you had a say? What does that even mean, Y/N?" Inklings of hurt rise in her at the twisted image she has of that night. "You had every bit of the say in that situation." 

You shake your head softly, glancing away. "You know less about it than you think." 

"Then explain it and stop being so cryptic." She crosses her arms over her chest, further guarding her heart from you.

You sigh, falling silent as you weigh your options. Truthfully, you have no idea if her father would still make good on those promises. Perhaps he can't even be bothered to do it now that Jisoo's famous, just like he wanted; but can you really take that kind of risk? No matter how much you despise him, no amount of hatred can take away the power he holds. 

Clearly, your lack of answer has worked to frustrate Jisoo; she rises from the couch, shaking her head disdainfully. "Either tell me or get out. I'm sick of these games, Y/N." 

Despite how upset she looks, you can't bring yourself to tell her. Your fear eclipses your personal wishes, prompting you to utter a halfhearted response that you'll never truly want to say. "... I can't." 

Bitter acceptance dances across her face, overtaking her features. She should've known. It was a mistake to invite you in and think things could be any different than before. Her friends warned her, and yet she was blinded by what could've been. Seeing you again has only caused more problems for her, and it's about time she lets that sink in. 

She turns to walk towards the door, which she fully intends to open and usher you out of in the next five seconds. But you stand, too, in a move that only makes its way to your brain once the soft skin of her wrist slides against your palm. The action was instinctual -- not thought out in the slightest as your muscle memory kicked in and sent you after her -- but it was warranted by the deeper parts of your heart that you've blocked out for so long. Their commands have fallen silent until now. 

"Wait, please." 

She faces you again, now just a few steps from the door, and glances down at where your hands meet. You're just as warm and comforting as she remembers, annoyingly; she takes her hand away, working hard to forget the sensation of yours on her again. 

She sets her jaw and crosses her arms, going silent as she waits for you to continue.

"I was threatened, okay? My family members, too. Someone told me they'd make my life hell if I stayed with you." 

"And you didn't tell me?" Her head tilts following her question. "I would've arranged for them to be questioned by police and--"

"I couldn't, Jisoo." A pause fills the air as you question if you're really ready to cross that line. Once you do, there's no going back...

"Because the person was your father." 

"What? No." She shakes her head and one of her hands gains purchase on your bicep, strong against it as she goes to push you away and towards the door. 

"I'm not lying; I promise." You plead, hoping she'll believe you. 

A look of disgust pulls at her features now, making you feel small. "Why couldn't you just tell me the truth, Y/N? All this time, all I've wanted are honest answers and you give me this? I never thought you'd be the type." The last line stings, adding salt to the wound. 

She urges you towards the door, refusing to believe what you're saying about the man she's known her whole life. He'd never do something like that -- she's sure of it. 

Sensing that it's now or never, you offer up a question as a last ditch effort. You plant your foot firmly beside the door and turn to her. "Do you remember that night?" A crestfallen look is on your face, and you can feel it. 

"How beaten up I was?"

Jisoo regards you and nods, deciding to drop her hand and stop pushing you for the time being. 

"It was your father's men." A moment of silence passes, and although you're surprised she hasn't kicked you out already, you don't let your shock stall you any longer. "I know I always promised that I wouldn't lie to you, Jisoo, but the only time I went against my word was that night."

You swallow, nervous. "I didn't get in a random fight like I told you; it was them." 

"Why would they do that?" Her tone is genuine. 

"Because I refused to back down without a fight. I didn't want to end things."

You decide to test the waters by stepping away from the door and taking a cautious step towards her, palms upturned as you subtly reach for her.

"I didn't want to leave you." 

She hesitates, and the anger on her face falters enough for you to see past it. It's merely hiding her pain. 

"If you'll let me, I'll explain everything. Anything you want to know." You run a thumb along her knuckles, just like you used to when she was stressed. 

"Just please trust me and come sit down." 

Your gentle coaxing seems to work; she lets you take her hands further into your own, conveying your sincerity. It's a simple gesture, but it's leaps and bounds away from anything you could've expected out of a night like tonight. 

Even still, as you make your way back to the sofas, the distance between you is prevalent. For every promising step forward, one is taken back; you sit on the same couch, but on opposite ends. Her gaze is fixated on you, just like you've wanted it to be all this time, but it's intimidating in a way you find difficult to handle. 

Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and tell her everything. The entirety of what went down that night, all the awful things her father said and vowed to use against you -- all of it comes tumbling past your lips in a clumsy rush to finally meet the light of day. The things you've kept inside -- your feelings, what you wish you would've told her -- fill the air of her suite, lifting a bit of weight from your shoulders as they go. 

She listens intently, and at times when she has a hard time believing something -- when that nasty feeling of doubt begins to seep in again -- you're quick to mitigate it with a valid explanation. Fathoming that her father would do all of that is difficult for her, and understandably so, but she can't find a reason for you to lie about it now. She trusts you on this, despite her brain telling her to be weary. 

By the end of your explanation, both of you are teary eyed. A sniffle rings through the prevailing silence, and Jisoo's arm remains propped against the back of the couch, as it has been. Her hand is pulled into a fist, and resting beneath her chin; she resembles The Thinker as she works to process everything. 

"To think that I've spent all this time hating you when it was never really your fault…" Her voice is wistful as she trails off. 

That cruel word hangs heavy in the air, and you take a deep breath to offset the dull ache in your chest at its utterance.

"I can't blame you for that." Your lips press together. "I might not have been the catalyst, but I sure as hell guaranteed that you wouldn't want to be around me anymore after that night." 

She doesn't attempt to flatter you with any denial of that fact; you both know you're right. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I had no idea he would ever do something like that."

"Don't," you say, holding a hand up to silence her. "Don't you dare apologize for him."

She looks down, upset.

"To be fair, he had a point. I know you, Jisoo. You would've settled down in my lame ass little town and lived in our apartment for the rest of your life. You wouldn't have gone after your dreams, and I wouldn't have been able to watch you give it up. So it's my fault too," you admit, nodding to yourself as that fact hits you. "Don't think I'm totally innocent just because of what he did."

"I would've been happy with living in your lame ass little town because I would've been with you."

Your sad eyes track up to hers at that.

"I loved you, Y/N. A lot. And now, what?" Her voice turns pompous as she mocks the words she's saying: "I'm rich and famous and I get to travel all the time. I get to stay in gorgeous locations and make conversation with some of the most influential people in the world. Does that make you happy?"

Her expression screams resentment, and you can't even blame her. She's had the people around her pulling the invisible strings attached to her future and happiness behind her back for years.

As you search through your mind for what to say, carefully avoiding how her use of the word loved made your heart hurt, you eventually find a fitting response. "When we were together, I saw you fall in love with modeling and embrace a new side of yourself. Nothing ever made you glow like that, Jisoo. When you were trying on new things and getting in front of that camera more often, I knew that that's where you belong. I could see it, then, and I didn't want to take that away from you."

She gives a dismissing wag of her head. "As noble as that is, you still should've told me the truth."

You sigh again -- you've probably done that more tonight than ever before in your life. "Jisoo--"

"No. You know what? No. Shut up. You were the one person who I finally found comfort in; who didn't judge me. I was at home with you no matter where we were or what we were doing, and I needed that kind of stability more than anything. I would've given up everything for you, Y/N, and I'm sick of you acting like that's so hard to believe." She's exasperated, and tiredly so. "You were everything to me. So much more than a job ever was."

Stunned into silence, you merely tap the back of the couch with your finger. The gravity of her words courses through you, realized little by little. 

Quietly, you ask: "Were?"

She drops eye contact, and your heart sinks. You know it was stupid to get your hopes up after everything, but you'd be lying to say you didn't. As silence wins out yet again, speaking volumes as it hangs thickly in the air, you push yourself further into the cushions. 

Jisoo eyes you for a moment. She doesn't speak, doesn't move -- just watches you as she inwardly debates on something. Her jaw clenches and releases a few times, its lines contoured by the lamp light of the room, but you don't see it. After a moment, she makes up her mind. Standing from the couch, she crosses the entryway and disappears down a short hallway. 

You're confused by her sudden departure, but you stay put. If she wanted you to see yourself out, she would've said so… right?

A minute or so later, she returns with something clutched in her hand. It's hidden from your view until she sits down, though this time she's a fraction closer to you than before. Baby steps.

"Do you remember our trip to Hawaii?" 

You nod, wiping a leftover tear from your cheek. "Our first anniversary," you say, a bittersweet smile on your face.

"That was one of the happiest times of my life," she admits, taking a breath. She replays the memories in her mind, right then and there: the laughter you shared, how close it brought the two of you. It was a whirlwind trip that she still wishes she could relive again. 

When she's out on the road for business, she always finds herself drifting back to that place. 

Her skin remembers the warmth of the sand, how the cool water slid over it to remedy the heat. Her lips and body remember the promises yours made with every movement, every kiss -- the entirety of it haunts her, but she can't say she would want it any other way. 

"I kept this." 

Her hand opens to reveal the small ring you won for her. 

It was a perfect night; the breeze rolling in was cool enough to offset the residual heat lingering from the daytime, but warm enough to keep you comfortable. Jisoo was right next to you, brushing closer to your side with every step you took down the street. Her arm fit around your body like it was always meant to be there, holding you against her in a sweet embrace. 

Lights surrounded you on both sides, some bright and multicolored while others opted for a soft, golden glow. The street vendors all called for your attention, hoping to interest you in what they were selling. 

One finally caught your eye. 

An elderly woman sat beside her booth, clad in a beautiful dress that rippled and flowed just like the ocean. A flower was nestled above her ear, pairing nicely with the jewelry she wore. 

"Fate Charms" was written in stylized handwriting above the entrance of the tent. Jisoo noticed your intrigue, and decided to investigate. She tugged you forward and towards the shop with little warning. 

The woman's eyes lit up when she saw you approaching. "Good evening, beauties. How is the island treating you?" Her voice was gentle, but a slight waver could be heard in it due to her age.

"Wonderfully," you smiled, nodding. 

"And you?" Jisoo asked, grinning at her. 

"Ah, I'm fine, dear. Thank you for asking." She stood from her chair and approached the makeshift counter, which she promptly stood behind. 

"May I interest you in a fate charm?"

You shared a look with Jisoo before agreeing. The woman beamed. 

"Great! Let me show you how it works," she said, clasping her hands together. She shifted until she was standing in front of a bin full of round plastic containers, each numbered and with a unique symbol painted on it. 

"This part is simple; the two of you will each choose one of these," she instructed, motioning to the bin. "Whatever you pick will be given to the other person, and the two symbols on the container will be combined for a second gift."

Both of you nodded, and Jisoo gently guided you to stand in front of her in a silent way of telling you to go first.

"Now, when you choose, there's only one rule: close your eyes. You'll know which one you're meant to pick." 

You thanked her for the instruction and did as she said, closing your eyes. Jisoo's fingertips slid against the small of your back unconsciously as she watched your hand hover over the bin; eventually you paused, letting the woman know you'd found the one. You opened your eyes and handed it to her before trading places with Jisoo. 

She repeated what you did, and the woman took both prizes to a clear section of the counter. She unlocked and opened them before holding both packages up to the lamp inside the tent with shaky hands. 

"Ah, moon and sun. Two classics," she noted, as she took a chest out from beneath the counter. She searched inside of it momentarily before producing a slip of paper and making her way back over to you. 

"For you, my dear," she said, looking at Jisoo. "A ring." She held her hand out, showing a small band with a heart at its center. It was simple yet elegant, shining with beautiful stones of some kind. They were likely native to the island, you realized, and that made them all the more valuable. 

"And for you," she turned, addressing you. "A necklace." She held it up, allowing you to get a good look at it. A heart similar to Jisoo's took center stage, but inside of it was a moving needle -- like that of a compass. 

You both took your gifts from her with grateful bows and put them on as she unraveled the paper. 

"Your last present is a message. It says: love knows no time limits. Borders and distance don't confine matters of the heart; be true. To yourself, to your other half. Know that in the end, whatever will be, will be. Things rooted in destiny will forever find their way to fruition."

"Wow," Jisoo breathed, amazed. 

"That's beautiful; mahalo nui loa." You said.

The woman humbly shook her head. "Don't thank me; thank yourselves."

You looked down, admiring the charm between your fingers. It was smooth, and it was beginning to warm up as your skin lent it some heat. 

"How much do we owe you?"

"Not a cent. I don't do this for money." 

Her statement came as a surprise -- one that was clearly written on both your and Jisoo's faces. The woman laughed when she noticed your expressions. 

"Just enjoy, alright? That's payment enough." 

You extended both hands to her, taking her aging one between them with care. "You made our night even more special," you said, feeling Jisoo slide up behind you. Her head came to rest against your shoulder as her arms wrapped around you. "Thank you again," she said to the woman, feeling her heart swell at the blush that rose to her tanned cheeks. The attention you both were giving her was more than she was used to, and it was making her shy. 

"You're welcome, my loves." 

                                  -- 

"I kept it," Jisoo repeats, bringing you back to present-day. She wipes a fallen tear from her cheek as her tongue darts out to soothe her lips. 

"I wanted to give it away at first; but I remembered what that woman said and couldn't find it in myself to let go. I kept hoping that the message would come true if I kept it, but it never did." 

Reaching a hand up your body, you dip it beneath the collar of your shirt. The familiar, smooth charm presses to your palm as you pull it from the cover of the material. 

"I kept mine, too." 

Jisoo's eyes widen the slightest bit, and you notice her hand twitch. Before your brain can stop you, you take it in your own and bring it to the necklace, allowing her to feel it and confirm that it's real. 

The needle points straight at her. 

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Jisoo," you confess, holding her hand tighter. You don't want her to slip away this time. 

"I know that what I did was fucked up. No matter why I did it, I hurt you; and I'm so sorry. If I could go back and change things, I'd do it in a heartbeat." 

She blinks, willing herself not to cry. 

"And… and I know that you probably can't forgive me. And that's alright. I just want you to know that you made me the happiest person alive, and all I ever want is to see you happy. You deserve every single good thing that this world has to offer, Chu, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you." 

You bring her hand to your lips and kiss the back of it. Only now does it sink in that this might be the last time you ever have her so close. 

Bitter silence fills the room again, remaining unbroken save for your occasional sniffles. 

But her subsequent lack of a response is answer enough for you, and you nod to yourself. You've both made your peace; now it's time to deal with what comes after. She learned the truth after all this time, and that's a victory in itself. 

Carefully, you get up and approach the door. The chilly metal works its way into your hand before you turn back, one last time. You hope she'll be looking, but then again, that might make things harder. 

(Un)luckily for you, she isn't. 

You clench your jaw and walk out, holding your head as high as you can manage right now. More tears spill from your eyes despite the fight you put up to keep them in. 

Now out in the hallway, you take a deep breath. The wall presses to your back as you lean on it, reassuring in its sturdiness. It'll be there for you if no one else will, and that's something. 

You take a moment to wipe your tears and clean yourself up a bit before trekking your way back to the elevator. The walk there feels like a mile hike up the steepest mountain you've ever encountered; your body resents you for every step you take, but you know it has to be done. 

On the couch, Jisoo's crying, too. Her heart feels tight, pushed to its limits and weak from the strain of all this. It aches, truly. She wonders if seeing you again was a sign; but maybe too much damage has already been done. Trusting you again isn't something that would come very easy; the nasty thought that history might repeat itself again or that you might slip away in the middle of the night with no explanation would always be at the back of her mind, nagging her. She wouldn't want to put you through that, and she definitely wouldn't want to subject herself to it either.

Maybe that woman's message was meant for another life. 

Exhausted, you allow your head to lull to the side and rest against the hallway wall. The elevator button emits a warm yellow glow when you push it, and mechanical sounds fill the shaft as it begins its ascent to you. 

The doors open up soon after, filling your vicinity once more with that gentle whooshing sound, and you step inside. The pleasant look on the attendant's face and the greeting she was about to give both fade away, and she solemnly averts her gaze. 

From your peripheral, you can see her debating on something. She wants to offer you some type of reassurance, but she doesn't know what to say. 

As she opens her mouth to speak, floundering for a second, another voice takes the spotlight from her. 

"I'm not ready to lose you again." 

The statement catches your attention, prompting you to raise your head and spin around. Jisoo stands outside of her door, teary eyed, as her fists ball in the material of her pants. 

"I'm scared of letting you in again," she confesses, taking a few steps closer. "But I can't keep pushing you away when the one thing I want is to have you in my life. Scared or not." 

You sniffle, and your feet work in tandem with your heart to bring you closer to her. 

The attendant, though intrigued beyond belief, takes that as her cue to leave. Once you're out in the hall, she closes the doors and descends to give you some privacy. 

"I'm willing to try again, Y/N. But only if you promise to be honest with me." Jisoo's lip quivers, and your heart breaks. "No exceptions." 

You agree -- of course you do -- and close what distance is left between you. 

Her arms wrap around your neck, and yours go to her waist, pulling her closer than ever before. It all happens in a rush; neither of you can deny how much you've ached to be wrapped in the other's embrace. 

Jisoo's wanted this since the day you walked away.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper fiercely into her shoulder, where your tears and broken cries mingle. 

"I've missed you more than you'll ever know." She tells you. "And I never stopped loving you, either, no matter what I've said." 

She tightens her hold on you as she cries, needing to feel you close. The collar of your shirt dampens the longer you stand there, but that's the furthest thing from your mind. She's in your arms again, finally, and it's everything you could've ever wanted. 

"Come back inside," she says quietly, feeling a little too exposed now. A woman enters her room with a freshly-refilled ice chest, pretending she didn't just witness part of your reunion. 

You nod and take the hand that she offers to you, feeling butterflies take flight. Something you can't quite place shines in her eyes as she unlocks the door -- a glint away from satisfaction, perhaps -- and it's all you can do to keep calm. You have no idea what she has planned for you now, but you're ready for whatever it is. 

Click

The door latches softly behind you, closed by your nervous hands, and Jisoo turns to face you again. She lets herself enjoy the sight of you now; she'd definitely done so earlier, but it was laced with an anger and resentment that she wants to let go of. 

Her gaze softens when she notices how red your nose and eyes are -- evidence of how much you care. You didn't come tonight to get anything for yourself; no selfish reason sent you to her. But what's more is that the entire thing matters to you just as much as it does to her. It makes it real, and it makes her heart beat a little stronger again. 

It had stumbled into some sort of uncanny rhythm without you -- one she's glad to get rid of, no matter how long it takes. 

Her hands cup your cheeks as she steps closer, chilly against your heated skin. The action pulls a sigh from your lips, making her smile the tiniest bit. It's such a pure thing. 

She brushes your hair out of your face, wanting to see you better, and you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around her waist again and pull her closer. 

"I never thought I'd be saying this," she starts, humor evident in her growing smile, "but I've missed your touch more than I thought I would." 

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?" 

She nods as you bring your right hand up to her face, caressing her cheek with the back of your fingers. "Anywhere you want it, it's yours." 

Her long lashes meet gently as she blinks, thinking about all the places she wants you. She's been surviving on her memories of you, reminiscing and replaying the nights that you stayed up well into the AM getting lost in one another, and the prospect of having it all for real again excites her. 

You can tell, because a low blush rises to her cheeks and she subtly presses her thighs together. 

It's comforting, knowing that she still wants you. 

"Tell me where, Jisoo." 

Her dark eyes meet yours again -- rich pools of velvet, swirling with desire -- and you feel your pulse quicken. 

"Here," she utters, quiet and intimate. Her hand guides yours downward, skating underneath the hem of her sweater and giving you access to her warm skin. Your breath catches, taken aback, but you do well in playing it off. 

Your fingertips trace over the defined lines of her abs, feeling them flex and tremble beneath your touch. Her chest rises and falls a little faster when you bring your hand up, skimming it across the lace of her bra. 

"Kiss me," she says suddenly, catching you off guard. Your gaze leaves her body, flitting up to her face. 

You pause, studying her. She looks vulnerable, but embers of a hidden fire flicker in her eyes. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Entirely." 

Time stops for a moment, kindly allowing you to focus on the softness of her lips as you press yours to them. They taste like the wine she was sipping on earlier -- rich and utterly intoxicating. 

She molds her body to yours, fitting herself against every curve and dip of you like she can't get close enough. The distance was present for so long -- now she wants to make up for lost time. 

When you part for air, she dips her head down and kisses your neck. But these aren't like you remember; they aren't shy or meek in the slightest. They're bold, open mouthed, entirely seductive kisses that're meant to leave you ruinous and put you under her spell. She further asserts this new side of herself as she pushes you against the door, smiling against your pulsepoint at the soft grunt you make in response to the impact. 

"Jisoo, what--"

"I learned some new tricks while you were away, Y/N," she interrupts, kissing just below your jawline now. Her voice is low, filled to the brim with confidence. "I learned new things about myself. What I like… what I need. And one of those things is having you submit to me. Will you do that?" 

Your jaw tenses as a blush creeps up the back of your neck. This side of her is definitely something to experience. 

She pulls back to look into your eyes. A dominance shines in hers, but it's soft; she'd never make you do something you're uncomfortable with. Light from one of the nearby standing lamps casts a hazy glow on her, making her even more ethereal. 

How could you ever deny her? After everything, she deserves to have control. 

"Yes." 

An almost imperceptible smile crosses her face at that. 

She leans forward and kisses you again as her hands go to the hem of your shirt, quickly slipping it over your head. Goosebumps span out across your skin in response to the new exposure, noticed by her as her wandering hands feel them. She gets an idea. 

"Follow me," she instructs against your lips. You subtly nod, and she takes your hand in her own. 

She leads you down the hallway from earlier and stops in front of the first door on the left. As she opens it, she casts a sensual look over her shoulder at you that has an all too familiar throbbing between your legs picking up in an instant. You shake your head and look up at the ceiling, silently pleading that you make it out of this alive. 

Now inside the master bedroom, you peer around in wonder at everything before you. A massive bed is pushed against the wall west of you, topped by a comforter that looks to be made from the softest materials in existence and a plethora of pillows, all of different sizes and firmness.

A desk and chair sit to the right of the door, and on the east wall a sizable electric fireplace resides, flickering in all of its glory. On the far side of the room, two curtains are pulled halfway in front of the doors of the patio, partially concealing it. From what you can make out from where you stand, it's roomy out there and furnished with a spotless couch and table.

Jisoo watches you. She sees the way the corners of your lips turn up ever so slightly when you notice something you like or that intrigues you. She sees how the lights of the room add even more of a sparkle to your eyes; how your lashes meet every so often. She could look at you forever; su estrella. 

But she yearns for more than just seeing you, and her patience is wearing thin. She needs to feel you, to taste you. To know that you're still hers and that you're not leaving this time. 

"Come help me set up, my love." She says, kissing your cheek.

You smile and agree, feeling your heart soar at her use of the term. Words could never do justice to what it feels like when she calls you that. 

She grabs the comforter, untucking it from the corners and pulling it off the bed, and she motions her head towards the pillows. You catch on and grab some, picking the ones you think are the most comfortable and taking some that you know she'll like. You follow her towards the hearth, where she gracefully fans the blanket out and crouches down to fix it. 

You're momentarily distracted by the way her muscles jump and move with her motions, but you eventually snap out of your daze. 

She steps to the side and takes her shoes off -- you realize now that yours are on, too. Evidently you were too preoccupied to remove them earlier. 

You take yours off as well and plop the pillows down, setting up a nice little area for the two of you. You primp the cases and fluff them, wanting them to look as good as possible. Once you're satisfied with your work, you turn around to look at her. 

"What do you think--"

Oh shit.

She stands now in only her bra and panties, black and red lace interwoven beautifully and dead set on driving you wild. Her dark hair ripples over her shoulders, falling in perfectly elegant waves that contrast with her fair skin. Your mouth runs dry as you drink in the sight of her, letting your eyes take their time in admiring every inch offered up. 

A smug smirk rests on her lips, though truth be told she feels giddy to have you looking at her in such a way. Part of her was afraid things might've changed. 

"Kneel." 

Your eyes slightly widen at the order, but you do as she says once it registers in your mind. The soft blanket beneath you welcomes your knees, caressing them as you lower yourself down. Your gaze remains locked with hers, and you watch as she gulps upon seeing you listen so readily. It feeds her ego, and you love to see it. 

She needs this -- needs to have the say for once. And you're more than happy to let her have it.

She saunters over, stepping past her discarded clothes to reach you. Once her feet -- tired and aching from the heels she's had to wear all day -- make contact with the blanket, she inwardly sighs. Cautiously, and in a move to test the waters, you reach a hand out, allowing it to stroke the back of her calf. 

Her eyes close at the sensation, reveling in the feeling of your slightly chilly fingertips against her, and she lets you continue. You move in closer until your front is hovering next to her, just far enough away for you to still be able to get a good look at her as you peer up. 

Your warm breath fans across her thighs, steady and tantalizing. Her head gently lulls back when you bring your free hand to her other leg, slipping it further up until it reaches the back of her thigh. She trembles slightly, and so you lean forward to press a soothing kiss to her hip. 

After leaving another there, you sneak down a little further, towards the apex of her thigh. You want to see how far she'll let you go before she pulls the reins back.

A few kisses later, and then...

"Y/N--" her voice is warning, but she makes no move to stop you. You wait, one beat… two… but all of her subsequent orders die out for the time being, no longer awarded the honor of being spoken. 

You loop your thumbs in the band of her panties, one set at each side of her hips as you pull them away from her skin and drag your lips across the area you expose. She whimpers when you leave a small hickey in your wake, and the sound has you shifting slightly as you feel the heat between your legs increase. 

You inch the material down until it reaches her knees, and then look up at her for confirmation. Her slender hand cups your jaw as her thumb brushes against your cheek lovingly. She looks utterly breathtaking as she towers over you, a gorgeous angel peering down. 

"I'll let you have your fun now, Y/N, because I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. You'll be begging before too long, anyway," she shrugs nonchalantly. "I might as well get your appetite going in the meantime." 

You swallow thickly at the tone of her voice. She says it like a fact, because she knows exactly what she's going to do to you. What positions she wants to try, what techniques… and all of it sends a thrill to your core, making desire pool dangerously in your stomach. 

"Go on," she says, glancing down at herself. "Do what you like." 

Butterflies take flight at that, and you waste no time in leaning forward to kiss her again. First it's her toned abdomen, where you leave a trail of love bites for her to look at later. She always liked being marked by you, she said, in places that only she would see. It made it even more special for her. More personal.

You work your way down, allowing your lips to remind her of how much you love her in every way they can. You nip at the skin of her thighs as you bring a hand up, pressing your thumb to her clit as the rest of it lays against her lower abdomen. 

"Fuck," she curses quietly, making you grin. She's so sensitive to your touch that you can't help but get a confidence boost from it. 

She feels you smile against her, and so she tangles a hand in your hair to put you in your place. 

"If you want to continue, you'd better not get cocky." She tightens her grip to prove her point, and you nod, relenting. 

You circle her clit slowly at first, almost as a silent apology as you ease her into the rhythm, but once she's comfortable and completely loosened up for you you speed up your movements. You lick a stripe up her folds and moan at the taste that you've missed so much. 

The vibrations course through her, making her clench around nothing and blush at how wet you've already made her. She puts a steadying hand on your shoulder, knowing she'll need something to hold on to soon enough. 

Huskily, she speaks. "More, Y/N." 

Her needy wish is your command. You replace your thumb with your mouth, carefully taking her clit into it as your thumb comes down to stroke her entrance and tease her some more. You suck on it, eliciting breathy moans from her and making her legs tremble. Her fist tightens in your hair again, making your eyes water slightly. 

She lets out a soft groan when you slide a finger into her, remembering all of her favorite spots. It pumps in a steady rhythm -- one that's quickly outpaced by her racing heart. Her fingers curl against the skin of your shoulder, leaving tiny indentations from her nails in the process.

Her left leg raises, slotting itself over your shoulder as you move closer to her. You steal a glance up at her, finding her lip pulled between her teeth and her eyes shut tight. 

Something magical resides in the way that you work her up, knowing her body like the back of your hand. She ebbs, you flow; you push, she pulls. It's a dance for two, truly, and you're making it count.

Pleasure courses through her in waves, building upon itself with everything you do to her. It ripples throughout her body, making her come alive; every flick of your tongue and movement of your fingers inside of her -- no matter how subtle -- have her yearning for more. Her broken moans create a melody as she revels in it, nearly getting lost. 

But still, part of her is holding back. She wants to let go; her body grinds against you wantingly, searching for more of the high you give. Her pulse beats wildly, thumping so loudly that she wonders if you can hear it. It serves as a testament, going to show just how much she's aching to give in. 

But she can't give herself to you fully -- and you notice. 

Stilling your movements, you pull away to look at her. Her chest heaves from what you've been doing, and her center glistens with even more evidence. 

She gazes down at you, softening when she sees the care in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" You ask gently, voice full of concern. Lust still plays on its tones, too.

She doesn't answer you with words. Instead she glances away, clearly reluctant to share what's on her mind -- almost as if she's ashamed of something. She subtly nibbles on the inside of her cheek; a habit of hers that you know all too well.

Pursing your lips, you look beside yourself to an open spot on the blanket. An idea comes to mind. 

"Come lay down." 

She looks hesitant but not totally opposed, so you continue. "It'll be more comfortable that way." You put a warm hand on her calf again, soothing her. "Just trust me." 

She nods and takes a deep breath, placing her hand in yours as you help ease her down. She lays back on the pillows and shuffles down a little until she's comfortable. Once she's settled, she looks up at you. 

You sit beside her, using one arm to prop yourself up and leaving the other free to touch her. Your eyes flit across her body, admiring the sight you can never get enough of; but before you can get too distracted, you focus your attention back on her face. 

Her brown eyes shine, warm and tempting. They look like home; something unique glimmers in them, indescribable in its nature. Some light, like that of a distant star, maybe, that you've been searching for in every pair that you've come across since leaving. 

But only hers have ever made you feel so safe. Only hers have had that sparkle.

She brings a hand up to your cheek, cupping it sweetly. A million things pass between the two of you, unspoken yet understood. You turn your head slightly and kiss her palm. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N." She says softly. Her dominant demeanor wavers now, eclipsed by the guilt she feels. 

You shake your head, settling your hand on her side. "Don't be. I know that this is difficult." 

She doesn't look satisfied with that, though. She sighs quietly, wanting to explain herself more. "You have no idea how much I want this. How much I want you," her hand drops to your arm now, skating down it. 

"I'm just so scared. You still have me wrapped around your finger, and if you leave again after tonight -- after what we'll do tonight -- I don't know how I'll recover."

You tut at her, knitting your brows together pitifully. 

"I know that what happened will always stick with us, babe, and I hate that. I wish I could change it, because you don't deserve all this." Your head shakes, disappointment obvious. "The second guessing… the doubts." 

She stays quiet, needing to hear your words just as badly as you need to get them off your chest. 

"But I can only make up for it now, and every coming day that you'll let me. I'll do everything I can to earn your trust back and show you that I'd never make that mistake again. You're my world, Chu." Her fingers thread with yours at her side. 

"You always have been." You say, a small smile easing its way onto your face. It's bittersweet and full of regret.

"And I understand if this is too much all at once. If you don't want to have sex tonight, we won't." A singular nod leaves you, and Jisoo's heart warms at the familiar sight. She always used to say you looked like an officer when you did that -- so serious and official.

You continue, suggesting, "Maybe we'll just watch some TV or something. I heard that [Her/Fav/S] is coming back with a few new episodes. I could make some food or order some takeout, and-- wait, do they even have takeout in the village?"

"Y/N," she says, cutting off your rambling. Her head shakes ever so slightly, amused. 

"Yeah?" 

"We're having sex tonight," she affirms, sitting up. "But we can do that stuff after, too." 

Surprise must be written all over your face, because Jisoo giggles soon after her statement. 

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured if you're not ready yet."

"I'm sure, jagi." She scoots closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. Some final piece seems to have fallen into place for her; a puzzle solved. 

"You might have to hold my hand, though." 

Her gaze levels with yours, and as her smile widens you notice that her eyes are on their way to forming those adorable half crescents that you love. A bit of mischief shines in them, further easing your worries. 

"Anything for you," you sigh with a grin, putting your hands behind your back so you can hold both of hers. 

As she leans in to kiss you, you wonder if she did that on purpose. 

Her full lips glide against yours slowly, relearning the rhythm that they used to share. Their softness is only rivaled by the passion that guides them; they teeter between gentleness and intensity the longer she kisses you. 

With a squeeze, she lets go of your hands and rests her own on your thighs. The material of your pants greets her fingertips, and she tugs them down your legs without breaking the kiss. You slip them off and toss them somewhere behind her, only to be pressed down into the comforter a second later. You laugh to yourself at her sudden eagerness. 

"You're so beautiful," she whispers against your lips, taking the bottom one in between her own as she settles her hips between your thighs. Your legs instinctively wrap around her waist, pulling her in close. 

You moan as she rocks against you, searching for friction to ease the ache that you've caused. She kisses the breath out of you in retaliation, only satisfied once you're panting like she was earlier. 

Your arms snake around her torso as you pull her in, grinding on her. 

A curse slips out of her mouth, and she puts a hand on the floor above your head, steadying herself. She's embarrassingly close already. 

Remnants of her heady perfume wash over you following her sudden movement, and you faintly smile. She still wears the same kind.

Warm light from the fireplace flickers across her features, making them look even stronger than usual. Her jawline is sharper, even more defined; the curve of her nose and lips even more beautiful somehow. She's a work of art, striking yet delicate.

"Baby, look at me." You request, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek. It's hot against your palm as she nuzzles into you, turning to grant your wish. 

Her dilated pupils surprise you at first, but soon you find comfort in them. They show that her desire comes not only from touching you and being touched, but merely by looking at you. You turn her on without even trying. 

She kisses you again, pinning both of your wrists above your head with one of her hands. The other runs down your body, worshipping every dip, curve, and perfect imperfection. 

First, it wraps around your neck. Her slender fingers apply faint pressure -- just enough to arouse you. She feels your pulse, how it jumps and beats for her; you still feel the same. Your body reacts to her touch just as it did before, and that turns her on. She's still your best.

Her hand pushes under your bra next, teasing your breasts in time with the greedy rutt of her hips. You writhe beneath her, feeling your toes curl when she pinches your nipple and massages the ache away. 

"Has anyone else touched you like this?" She asks, now moving her hand across your abdomen. It ghosts over your skin, and she appreciates the way your shuddered breaths make it ripple. 

"Have they, Y/N?" She prods, peering up at you. Her mouth hovers above your chest, tempting and warm on your exposed skin.

"No," you reply, glancing away. "I haven't been with anyone since you." Your eyes close, both in embarrassment at that admission and avoidance of her gaze. It's clear that she can't say the same for herself, seeing as how she was with that man back in the city. You're not prepared for her reply, whatever it may be, because you know it'll hurt regardless. A lie to comfort you, perhaps, or even the truth. Usually the truth hurts more.

"What?" She asks, sounding breathless. She's taken aback. 

"You heard me." 

A twinge of bitterness lies hidden behind your words, but not well enough to go unnoticed by her. 

"I haven't either," she admits. 

Your brows furrow as you look at her.

"What about the guy in the city? I thought..."

She's already shaking her head before you can finish your statement. "He's my manager. We were grabbing some food while we waited for a meeting with one of our executives. They had us fly in for business." 

"Oh." 

The simple response is all you can come up with, and it makes her laugh. You smile at her, feeling a bit of weight lifted from your shoulders at that revelation.

"I thought about it," she confesses after a minute, "but I couldn't have gone through with it. Nobody would've even compared to you." 

She lets go of your arms now, letting both of her hands roam your body as they please. Your bra is undone and removed from you in an instant, and quickly replaced by her mouth. She paints your skin with love bites, returning the favor. 

"You remember that old camcorder we experimented with back in Paris?" She mumbles a couple minutes later, lips trailing down your sternum as she moves down your body. 

Oh God. "The one with our sex tape?" 

She grins cockily against your hip, where she's begun to pull your panties down. "Bingo." 

"You kept it?" You ask, finding it harder to breathe when she rids you of the thin material and peppers kisses across your thighs.

"I did more than just keep it, jagi." A low chuckle leaves her, though it's more so out of reminiscence than humor. She lost count a long time ago of how many times she's replayed that video, mesmerized by you and her memories of that night. When she watches it, she can almost feel the humid breeze that drifted into your cabana then, sensual and rich with the promises it held for your time together.

Part of you wonders where this side of her has been hiding; she's always been so demure that you'd have never expected this from her. 

"I have to say, though," she starts, sitting back on her knees as she pushes yours open wider. "The camera could never do this pretty pussy justice." 

You groan at her words and bury your face in your hands, feeling exposed and shy all at once. She quick to pull them away, though, and simply glance above your head to let you know that she won't hesitate to pin them again. 

"There's no need to be embarrassed, baby. Your body's incredible," her eyes drink in the sight of you, possessive in their darkness. "I love every inch of it." 

She brings a hand down between your bodies as she settles back down, using it to cup your center. Your head pushes further back into the pillows, taking one last moment of reprieve in this calm before the storm. The dangerous look in her eyes excites you, though, and probably more than it should. 

But her body's warm against you and humming with the passion she's kept bottled away for the past two years, and that's all you really care about. It almost radiates from her when she's near you, like some kind of beautiful enchantment. 

You've had her enraptured since the day you met… and some things just never change.

"I've craved you more than anything else in my life, Y/N," she says, unwavering and true. "And this time without you has been the worst." Her lips press to your cheek in a gentle embrace, lessening the sting of the reminder of your time apart. 

"But we're here now, and I'm going to make up for every second we lost. I promise." 

She seals her declaration with another kiss, and her body busies itself with its mortal purpose: pleasing you. 

----

Three Hours Later, In Bed

You awake slowly, to the howling of distant wolves. Their high pitched cries carry for miles in every direction, aided by the slopes and dips of the mountains. Moonlight streams in through the patio windows, reflecting off of the table outside to create a shimmery myriad of colors wherever it falls.

Jisoo lays next to you on her side, her limbs outstretched and splayed across your body. Her relaxed breaths warm your shoulder, consistent and calm, and for a moment you let yourself just be. 

The burdens you were carrying before all seem lighter now, as you just lie here with her. In this room, it's just the two of you; the world can't touch you. Her demanding father is miles away; the brands that she'll be representing in the morning don't exist. You're lightyears away from your boring job and everything else that's worked to keep you apart. 

Here, it's just you. Here, the only thing you have to wonder about is where you end and she begins. 

The quiet coos she makes in her sleep comfort you and give you a glimpse back into what life used to be like with her. When you shift, intending to alleviate some of the strain on your aching muscles, she instinctively tightens her hold on you. It's something that might not seem significant to others, but you understand the weight of it immediately; even when she's unconscious, she wants you next to her. She doesn't want you to slip away again, and it saddens you immensely that she even has to worry about that in the first place. 

"I'm not going anywhere, my love." You whisper delicately, as a promise. She hums lowly at that, her voice full of the sultry tones that sleep always brings on, and you smile.

She nuzzles into you, and you kiss her temple as you hold her tight. 

--

A Little Later

When Jisoo is pulled from the sweet embrace of sleep, it's far less pleasant than what you experienced. 

Her eyes open to darkness, and the bed beside her is cold. Empty. Void of you or any evidence that you had even occupied the space at all. 

She sits up with a start, fumbling to brush her hair away from her face and look around the room. Her discarded clothes lay in a neatly folded pile at the end of the bed, reassuring her at the very least that she didn't dream up your reunion; you were really there at some point. 

The lamp flickers on a minute later, and she swings her legs over the side of the bed. Her eyes fall down to her body, finding splashes of red and purple hickeys everywhere; she blushes slightly at the memories that play in her mind, but she pushes them away shortly after. 

If you really did leave after everything, she could never forgive you. 

She strides across the room towards her closet, where she retrieves the complimentary silk robe that the resort leaves for guests. She slides it on, sighing slightly at the coolness it provides. 

Just as she finishes tying it and hastily pads her way towards the door, opening it in a rush, she's greeted by a sight that has all of her fears dissipating just as quickly as they came on. 

"One way ticket," you sing into the handle of a spatula, dressed solely in one of Jisoo's hoodies and your underwear. You adjust the heat on the stove, where you're warming some milk to make hot chocolate. 

Still oblivious to her presence, you wave to an imaginary crowd and smile at your band before singing again. "One way ticket, one way ticket to the blues!"

She leans against the hallway wall, smiling to herself at how adorable you are. Your hair is pulled back in a messy bun, you're barefoot, and you're half dressed. 

You have no intention of leaving her again, and that fact slowly makes its way to her brain. She feels her final defenses lowering when you spin around, enjoying yourself. 

"Gonna take a trip--"

Your eyes land on her shadowy figure halfway through the line, leaving you with little else to do but scream bloody murder in shock. 

She gasps as you tumble to the ground in a heap, and she's quick to chase after you. 

"You scared the hell out of me!" A groan rumbles in your throat as you begin to stand on your already exhausted legs, sore and embarrassed that she caught you. 

"I'm sorry," she mitigates, holding her arm out for you to grab. You take it with a halfhearted glare, but use it nonetheless. 

"I was making hot cocoa for us, until you interrupted," you grumble, turning towards the stove again. She purses her lips, attempting to keep from grinning at your antics. 

"Really?" She acts, feigning confusion as she slides up behind you. Your breath hitches when her hands find their way beneath the hoodie, running dangerously close to your breasts. 

"Jisoo…"

She kisses down your neck tantalizingly, reminding you of the night you shared. As her robe opens slightly, her bare thigh grazes the back of yours. "Because it looked to me like my rockstar girlfriend was putting on quite the show." 

You pause, not moving. She seems to notice her slip up as well, and her head falls forward against your shoulder. A grimace crosses her face; she's sure she just messed all this up.

"Y/N--"

"Girlfriend?" You ask curiously, though you try to conceal your wishfulness. She looks away when you switch the burner off and turn around, eyes on her. 

"Look at me, please." 

Her fingers fiddle with the ends of her sleeves, but she eventually gains the courage to do as you ask. 

The moonlight sparkles in here, too, as it cascades in through the frosted bay windows. Small deposits of ice and snow sit in the corners of them, like silent witnesses of your interaction. They watch with anticipation, just the same as you. 

"I was thinking we could try again, you know?" 

Her voice is timid in the face of such a daunting proposition, especially given your history, but she stands tall. In a way, it feels like asking you out all over again.

"I'd love that, Chu." 

Your ensuing smile melts her heart, and she breathes a breath of relief. She steps forward and wraps her arms around you, falling into your embrace. You hold her tight, making her feel secure not only physically, but also in her emotions. 

She sways gently with you in the moonlight, leaving stray kisses against your collarbone every so often. 

After a few minutes like this, you remember your purpose for leaving the warmth of her bed in the first place. Hot cocoa. 

"How about this, jagi," you say, leaning back slightly to look into her eyes. "You go grab a blanket for us, and I'll finish making our drinks. Then we can go stargaze on the patio." 

She nods happily, and plants a lingering kiss to your cheek before sauntering away. 

You bite your lip as you switch the heat back on, shaking your head in disbelief. If someone had told you that this is how the trip would leave you, you never would've believed them. It's a miracle, truly, and you'll be thanking your lucky stars the second you step outside.

--

"Two hot chocolates, incoming!" You announce, keeping the steaming mugs steady in your hands. The patio door is open enough for you to easily slip out and join her. 

Instead of just her, though, which would be more than enough for you, you see that she's lit an array of candles and placed them around the patio. They create a romantic ambience for the two of you, and the view that you have to go along with them is something out of a dream. 

"Jisoo, this is…. Wow." 

The stars twinkle in the sky, high above it all as they keep watch. Their constellations show vividly, like they're waking up to say hello. So too is the village below, stretching out left and right. Wooden welcome signs groan and creak as the wind pushes against them, whispers of greeting coming from their oak posts.

The golden lamps that you saw upon arrival earlier now burn even brighter, sitting in the windows of stores and houses and hanging high in the protective cases of the street lamps. It's a tender thing, yet their light adds a vibrance of life to the village despite the late hour. 

Jisoo's hands are clasped behind her back, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Do you like it?" 

"I love it," you assure her, setting the mugs down on the table. "And I love you." 

Her smile widens at that, much to your relief, and she steps towards you. Happiness is the only thing on her face as she takes your hands and invites you to sit down with her.

"I love you, too, Y/N. So much," she says, almost dreamily. "I'm really glad I decided to come on this trip." 

You agree, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "That woman's message was true, then." 

"Yeah," she sighs, grinning as you hand her her drink and settle in next to her, wrapping the blanket around both of your bodies. Although the patio is heated, the blanket serves as another layer of warmth and a way to bring you even closer to one another.

"And I'm really happy it was." 

You hum at that and grab your drink, clinking the side of the mug against hers in celebration. 

"To us," she declares proudly, eyes shining with love and every other emotion you make her feel. 

"To us," you repeat, beaming all the same. You take a sip and peek out at the mountains over the rim, watching the stark white snow accumulate. It paints everything in sight with its powdery magic, from the hills and slopes to the village homes. Layers of it continue to build upon each other, pillowy and soft with every new flake.

It's creating the perfect conditions for everything the girls mentioned doing while you're here, and a knowing smile shows on your face as you realize something. 

You have the perfect opportunity to invite Jisoo to come along for your plans and right some of your wrongs in the process. She and the girls can all heal from the damage caused, and you can have the honor of seeing that happen. 

It's not often that such a privilege is awarded to people, and you don't plan to take it lightly. 

So you hold Jisoo a little tighter, a little closer, here and now, to show her how much she means. You'll do everything you can to atone for the mistakes you made and take away her future burdens for as long as she'll allow you, always. 

It's just the promise you make, because for you, no matter what, it'll always be her. 

With her, things are never really over.

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Songs that inspired me:

"Where's My Love" - SYML

"Fear Of The Water" - SYML

"One Way Ticket" - Eruption

Lisa baby 👶

Jisoo ♡ Dior Makeup for W Korea

Jisoo ♡ W Korea 2021 February issue

Diamonds on my wrist | Blackpink Ice Cream 🍨

gorgeous Jisoo for Dior Beauty 

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ — jisoo layout + pinned ᵕ̈

like/reblog if used or saved <3

do NOT repost

@/gotich6e on twitter

request are open [esp/eng] <3

¡ jisoo layout + pinned !

like/reblog if used or saved. ♡

do NOT repost. ♡

request. ♡

@/fygkie on twitter. ♡

JISOO

pack+pinned

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JISOO

pack+pinned

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⇢ jisoo x vogue Korea November⋆⑅˚₊ .༄

𓈒✿۪𝆬֯ﾟ𝄄˒Jisoo Moodboard.

𓈒✿۪𝆬֯ﾟ𝄄˒Like If you catch or reblog.

𓈒✿۪𝆬֯ﾟ𝄄˒Psd by @opulenceps .

Mi buen amor 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Mi buen amor 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

휘파람 (WHISTLE) (2016) BLACKPINK, dir. BEOMJIN

jisoo rehearsing ‘kill this love’