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against it all » k. dy.

pairing: kim doyoung x fem!reader

word count: 22.7k

overall genres and themes: romance, angst, fluff (if you squint), smut, hurt/comfort, slight psychological drama, some humour here and there, mental health awareness | exes to lovers!au, soulmate!au

warnings: quite angsty in some points, alcohol consumption, smoking, talks about depression and unhealthy coping methods, toxic parents, brief mention of a nosebleed, arguing, kissing, explicit sexual content.

permanent taglist: @keytomythoughts @markedsweetly @byeolhyesisi @jenotapes @moonsclover @koakyuu @sarahwrld @kflixnet @nct-writers @neozonenet @kpopsociety @ficscafe | you can fill out this form if you wish to be added as well! or, if you want to be added only to the taglist of this fic, send me an ask. :)

happy reading!

i. elevator rush

Being blocked with your ex-boyfriend in a panoramic elevator certainly wasn’t the way you imagined welcoming the first day of the new year. It’s been four hours since the clock hit midnight and your past has not only chased you down already, he was also stealing glances at you from time to time, watching you intently.

Great. This year couldn’t have kicked off any better, you thought to yourself, mentally scoffing at how ironical the entire situation was.

You sighed and briefly glanced at the see-through doors of the elevator that remained stuck between floors, then at your ex-boyfriend.

Doyoung was on the phone with your common friend, Ten, who had invited you both to the big party he had decided to throw for New Years in his recently acquired penthouse, letting him know of the "small" inconvenience and asking him to fix it.

Ten’s penthouse was located in one of Seoul’s tallest buildings, and it was devastatingly beautiful and lavish. It was accompanied by a panoramic elevator that showed off a breathtaking view that felt like it was meant to keep anyone entranced until they reached the top floor. All of which made you feel excited when you first got to Ten’s place, clad in your favourite dress, high heels, and jewellery, unaware of what you’d come across. Or, better said, who.

Your blood ran cold after you spotted each other across the room.

You scanned one another subtly and your eyes widened as you both realised that you were wearing the same colour, your outfits matching as if you had planned them together. Your cheeks flushed, making you break eye contact before you showed too much.

The mere sight of Doyoung opened up a vault of memories and emotions that you believed you had managed to seal. Yet, you couldn’t have been more wrong. It all came rushing back to you at full force, constricting your chest unforgivingly. You weren’t ready to meet him because you certainly weren’t over him.

Neither did you know if you’d ever really be.

This has to be a sick joke.

Doyoung was clad in an emerald green suit, a white dress shirt with two buttons undone and fingers adorned with gold rings. His look was simple yet captivating enough to turn some heads when he walked into the room.

But you weren't far from enticing either. You were dressed in your favorite emerald green off-the-shoulder dress that reached down to your ankles and featured a one-leg split that started from your mid left thigh, paired with golden high heels and gold jewellery.

Of course he’d wear this, it was our lucky colour and it’s New Year’s Eve.

You pursed your lips and turned your back to Doyoung, disappearing into the crowd. You spotted your friends and headed towards them with a relieved sigh, deciding that they would be your distraction for the rest of the night, along with a couple of glasses of Tanqueray.

Having had an abrupt and painful break-up with Doyoung six months before, didn’t exactly make him a face you’d be excited to see. Even less to spend this much time with.

You made a mental note to corner Ten sometime in the following days and bring hell on earth for him if, by any chance, he had purposely arranged this obviously inevitable meeting between you and Doyoung. This was the same Doyoung who had left the country and gone all the way to Australia. You couldn’t rule it out as something that Ten wouldn’t do, especially since he had most likely been the biggest shipper of your relationship. One who also cried almost as much as you did after he found out what had happened.

You thanked the heavens that Ten was a social butterfly with enough connections to crowd such a huge place, because this had helped you steer clear of Doyoung successfully the entire night. Up until now, when he took the elevator with you, because he, too, had decided to call it a night and head out.

But, at least the view was nice.

The sparkling city lights were enough of a distraction to keep you grounded. Or so it seemed at first, until you realised the entire thing was, in fact, strangely romantic. And that only brought you back to your initial thought that it was all a bitter irony.

Not too long after, the sound of Doyoung raising his voice snapped you out of your gloomy introspection.

"Ten, I swear to God, if you don’t get us out of here faster than that, I’ll keep my promise and I will actually kill you," he spoke threateningly, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

You would’ve believed he’d put what he had said into practice if you hadn’t known the gentle soul that hid behind his apparently aloof and intimidating persona.

Dealing with a drunk Ten was difficult on its own, but getting him to do something that required coherent speech and explanation was the ultimate challenge.

“On a second thought, do let Yangyang know he’ll be dying too since he was the one who fucked up the damn elevator. You better call the maintenance team now. What the fuck, man? No, we won’t be hooking up-," Doyoung added, but suddenly halted, irritation written all over his features as he turned to look at you. "The asshole just hung up on me."

The visible pout on his face and his slightly disheveled hair made you think he looked even cuter than he already was. However, you immediately pushed those thoughts away, blaming them on the alcohol in your system. You couldn’t allow yourself to see him that way. He wasn’t yours anymore.

"You dialled a wasted Ten, you’re lucky he even picked up at four in the morning," you replied nonchalantly. "He would’ve normally had his phone up his ass and his tongue down someone’s throat by now, you know how he is."

Doyoung sighed, shaking his head in disbelief at Ten’s antics, "You’ve got a solid point. He’s unchanged."

"As you seem too," you blurted out without thinking, instantly regretting it after realising what you might’ve started.

Well, shit. Taking a walk down memory lane was the last thing I wanted, yet here I am asking for it.

Doyoung cocked his brow, folded his arms over his chest, and leaned against the wall, "Really? How so?"

"You still pinch the bridge of your nose and twist the ring on your index finger with your thumb when somebody gets on your nerves," you explained, averting your gaze and staring at the city lights.

It was too much to bear the daze of his eyes, which seemed to have turned into molten honey in the dim yellow light of the elevator.

"I do? I’m not even aware of it."

"I know," you nodded, and that was the only thing you could say. Although, even such a short and simple statement feels like you’ve said too much.

I know you and your little things too well.

He didn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth lifted up slightly, forming a small smile.

Even if Doyoung was an arm’s reach away, it felt like both of you existed in different universes, and that left a bitter taste on your tongue. One that was similar to the bitterness of all the cigarettes you’ve manically smoked over the past six months, hoping that, with each puff you released, your love for him would fade into the wind and your heart would stop aching.

But it never did. Not fully. The pain would only turn into numbness and then reverse. It was a vicious cycle that felt like an endless spiral of torture. Pure, cruel torture. Because how do you bring yourself to understand that the very person who was once your soulmate has now become nothing else but a stranger you happen to know everything about? Mentally, perhaps, you might come to make some sense of it. Find reasons for it. But the heart will always want what it wants.

And, as you stood in the opposite corner of the elevator from him, staring at the night sky, you knew that your heart still wanted Doyoung.

Despite everything.

Not standing the awkward silence that was becoming so thick you could’ve cut it with a knife, you took the initiative and spoke up, "So, what did he say?"

"After some drunken tantrums and grumbling about me being a party pooper, he sobered up a little and said he’d deal with it, but that the best he could do was get us out of here in about two-three hours, " Doyoung explained. "I tried telling him to be faster than that, but he grumbled some more about me being an ungrateful bitch. Then he yelled, and here I quote, ’stop being so whiny, just hook up or something to make the time pass, figure it out’ and hung up on me. So, yeah, we’ll be stuck here for a while."

You snorted, "Typical Ten. Though, I have to say, two-three hours sounds pretty decent. Last time Yangyang got blocked in here, it took them almost seven hours to take him out."

“Seven hours? What the hell did he do to fuck the elevator up that badly?" Doyoung inquired, flabbergasted.

“Hasn’t Ten told you the story?"

"No, he just mentioned something about Yangyang growing up so fast and blossoming into the fabulous being he raised him to be. I honestly thought it was another one of his bombastic rollercoaster stories, and I was too tired to keep up with Ten anymore, so I didn’t press it further."

"Your instincts haven’t failed you, it is one of their usual bombastic rollercoasters," you chuckled.

“Now you’re making me curious. What exactly am I missing here?"

"Yangyang got his first modelling gig few weeks after Ten moved into the penthouse, and, since he was visiting him quite frequently and was getting bored in the elevator until it reached the top floor, a brilliant idea suddenly enlightened his nut of a brain,” you rolled your eyes, remembering the younger's idiocy. “So he simultaneously pressed on a bunch of random floors up until the thirtieth, where the penthouse is, and each time the doors would open, he’d strike a pose. Preparing for his photoshoot, he called it."

"That brat," Doyoung scowled.

“He did that until he fried the control panel and remained stuck for several hours. The thing was that each time it happened, it was around midday and the neighbours were forced to take the stairs since the other elevator wasn’t functional either. I wonder why," you scoffed sarcastically.

"Because, if Yangyang fucks up one elevator but has another, he moves into the next one until he makes it give in too.”

“Exactly. Some of the neighbours put two and two together and figured out it was him after watching the security footage. They got angry, of course, and waited for him to come back again and, when he did, let’s say that they wanted to flatten his face with some baseball bats."

"Please tell me they got him," Doyoung deadpanned.

"Almost, but the amount of luck that little bastard has is unmatched. The last time he tried striking poses, the neighbours were scattered on a few floors, all prepared to attack. Yangyang was faster than them, though. He realised what was going on and kept pressing the button that was closing the doors and remained glued to it for dear life, screeching at the top of his lungs each time the doors opened on another floor that had angry neighbours on it."

"No way," Doyoung said, bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Hang on, there’s more. I was already in the penthouse with Ten and we were both wondering who the hell was screaming louder and higher pitched than a cat in its heat season, because that was how loud Yangyang was. It all remained a mystery until he finally reached Ten’s floor. When the elevator doors opened, he barged in, tripped on his feet and fell to the floor, got back up and started running with his arms up in the air around the place while yelling ‘Cittaphon, your neighbours want to kill me! Hell, they almost succeeded. What the fuck do they have with a boy preparing for the fulfilment of his childhood dreams?!’”

"Oh my God."

“Of course, both Ten and I were suffocating from laughter, and when we finally caught our breath, Yangyang was still screeching while running in circles around a table. Only then did Ten catch him, calm him down, and solve the problem with the neighbours. But, I swear that I have never laughed so hard in my entire life," you concluded.

"I can’t breathe," was all Doyoung could say as he gasped for air, almost crying out of laughter.

"I’m guessing right now we’re dealing with the PTSD of this poor elevator after Yangyang’s posing sessions."

"For sure. They’ll need to rewire everything very thoroughly. Only Yangyang could destroy a brand new elevator this badly."

“Preach," you nodded.

Your conversation flowed so easily and naturally, like nothing bad had happened between the two of you. It felt too right, and that just made the entirety of the situation worse because you weren’t together anymore.

As you stood there, mirroring each other’s smiles, your gazes locked and melted into one another, lingering, perhaps, for a little too long. He looked at you as if his eyes were searching inside yours for everything that they had missed while he had been away.

A Doyoung smiling so brightly was a rare sight, and you knew that better than anyone. It was yet another little thing about him that made you giddy. Even more, because he had once told you that you were the only one that could make him smile that way without a given reason.

"How have you been?" He asked suddenly.

Heartbroken to the point of feeling like I’m fading away and turning into a ghost. How the hell could I have been? Your inner voice replied, but the words didn’t make it past your lips.

"Are we really going to do that lame small talk?" You tried to deflect, letting out a dry chuckle.

Doyoung snickered lowly, the vibration of his voice feeling as if it echoed in your own chest, "Right, we always hated that. I’ll skip it."

Why are you making this so hard? There’s no "we" anymore.

His dimples slowly faded as his smile minimised to a lips-only one, amber irises roaming over your features as he spoke up, "Is that the Tanqueray blush or am I wrong?"

His question made your lungs constrict and your throat tighten, sending another wave of memories your way. He had either become plainly oblivious or he was set on breaking your heart again.

Tanqueray was the drink that would make your cheeks brighten up with a tinge of dusty pink, having the same effect on you as Doyoung did each time he made your heart flutter. You first tried it out together on the one year anniversary trip you took to Australia. The very country that later on snatched him away from you.

"Maybe," you almost whispered, trying to keep your eyes dry while facing the storm of painful questions that were increasingly waging war with your mind.

Doesn’t it hurt you too when we’re this close, yet so far out of reach?

"You haven’t changed either," he said fondly, but the hint of melancholy in his voice betrayed him.

Everything has changed, you wanted to scream.

"Yeah," you said, your voice breaking and a few tears streaming down your cheeks.

Doyoung’s smile faltered.

You averted your gaze, turning your head and slightly tilting it, causing your hair to fall over your face and cover it. As you squeezed your eyes shut and suppressed an incoming sob, you felt his warm fingers reaching under your chin, gently turning you back so you’d face him.

“Doyoung, don’t," you whispered with your eyes still closed.

"Love, look at me," he pleaded softly, hands now cupping your cheeks while wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

How can you still call me that way? How can you be so cruel?

Everything you had pent up in the past six months blew up inside of you after hearing what he had said. It felt like your entire being had been split in two, the pain taking ahold of you, making your eyes snap open and stare directly into his.

“What are you doing here, Doyoung? Why did you come back? "

ii. facing demons

Seeing the rage and hurt swirling in your eyes threateningly, Doyoung removed his hands from your face, letting them fall to his sides. But he didn’t back off, maintaining his close proximity to you.

He sighed, knowing how difficult the conversation was about to get because, one after the other, he had broken your heart and he was well aware of it.

“Ten invited me to his party, and I’ve also got, uhm, something to take care of."

“Seriously? That’s the best excuse you could come up with?" You retorted icily.

Doyoung wanted to chuckle, having missed you and your bluntness, but he held back. The sharpness of your tone was cutting right through him. However, he had accepted it, understanding that he deserved every bit of venom that you’d spit his way. Other than that, he was certain you’d actually kill him if he so much as dared to smile in such a serious situation.

"Believe it or not, that’s the truth."

And it was the truth. But Doyoung knew that it was too elusively put to sound convincing enough for you. He would’ve wanted to tell you why he actually came back, but he was concerned that you might not take it well. After all, he knew you, regardless of how much you’d try to deny it or hate it after you two parted ways.

Some things never change.

"Let me get this straight, you waltz in here knowing for a fact that I’ll attend because me and Ten always celebrate New Years together. You think you can just casually walk in and out of people’s lives as you please, Doyoung? Especially after the way you’ve left," you spat, glare sharper than a dagger.

Doyoung simply stood there looking at you, eyes sparkling despite the pain that tore through his heart. You had the same effect on him as he had on you, having opened the sealed vault of memories from his chest too. He had been flooded by a bittersweet sense of remembrance as soon as he laid eyes on you. He watched you from afar during the party, aware that you needed to process the fact that he had returned. He knew you would’ve slipped right through his fingers if he hadn’t allowed this to sink in and you to breathe a little.

Not that he was too certain that right now you wouldn’t. You were as unpredictable as the quicksands, which was one of the millions of things he loved about you. You were one of the few people who could surprise him.

But, you weren’t the only one who was unpredictable. So was he. And that was, perhaps, why your flames always burned brighter together.

"You’re still beautiful when you’re angry," he finally said.

"You’re still an idiot," you scoffed incredulously. "Cut the crap, Kim. Don’t even think about using that dreamy face on me because it won’t work."

"I know.”

“Haven’t you twisted the knife in the wound enough?"

"I’m sorry," he breathed out and you could tell he meant it.

One thing about Doyoung was that he was a terrible liar, so you could immediately spot any attempt of mischief. But sorries didn’t faze you now.

"What makes you think I’d even accept your apology?"

"I’m not asking you to accept it, I’m well aware that I don’t deserve that after everything I’ve put you through. I just wanted you to know this, nonetheless."

Doyoung paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He had rehearsed this a thousand times on the plane back to Seoul, but feeling you so close to him again made his words vanish into thin air. All of which left him with no other choice than to be completely honest and speak from his heart. It suddenly dawned on him that if those elevator doors were to open in the next couple of minutes, you’d be gone. He had to cut his plan short since the uncertain amount of time he had with you didn’t quite feel like it was on his side.

He only had one shot. So, he decided to go against his better judgment and take a leap of faith.

"I didn’t come back here for something random. I came back for you."

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that? Six months late," you emphasised.

"Love, listen to me-"

"Listen to you, Doyoung? Listen, you say? Like you listened to me when I almost begged you to tell me what was wrong? When I poured my soul out in front of you while I asked you not to do this?" You thundered. "And, for the love of God, stop calling me that. You lost your right to do so."

Doyoung flinched as if you’d hit him, his composure beginning to crack before you, a shade of hurt briefly grazing his features. The brokenness that stained your voice sent shivers down his spine, regret blooming violently from the depths of his core.

It feels too natural for me to call you this way, Doyoung’s mind retorted.

He remembered it too well. That day. It haunted him even in his dreams every night after he’d left you. The memory of you crying yourself to sleep never stopped tormenting him. And he couldn’t help but hate himself for it now, as he stood before you six months later, unable to bear your absence anymore. The self-hate only increased as the painful outcome of his abrupt departure revealed how deeply he had wounded you.

What have I done? He asked himself as he took in your pain that mirrored his own. What was in my head to think that this was going to be the best decision for her?

"Why on earth would I do that? Just because we’ve been together, you think you’re entitled to-"

"Because we’re both dying inside without each other," Doyoung cut you off decidedly. "I haven’t been myself these last few months, and I know that neither have you."

You looked at him blankly, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.

This man is going to be the death of me.

He inhaled sharply, trying to contain the surge of emotions that made his lower lip quiver slightly and continued, "You’re everywhere, in everything around me. I see you wherever I look. I look for you wherever I go. Each time I enter my apartment, my eyes subconsciously search for you and the void in my chest only keeps growing when reality hits me that I’m alone. That the house is empty, that my life is empty, that I am empty. I’m nothing without you."

"As always, you chose to stay true to your habit of confusing me," you said sternly, wiping your tears. "The difference between us is that you needed to leave in order to realise all that. I knew it from the start."

"No, it’s not that. I knew it too."

"Then if you knew, why did you leave?"

"I wanted to protect you."

Your eyes widened in disbelief as hurt and anger spread throughout your body like a wildfire.

"Protect me? Was breaking me your idea of protection?”

“Sometimes you have to hurt in order to heal. One of us had to rip the bandaid off the wound to let it breathe," Doyoung explained. "To move on."

"Right, and the ’healing’ process you’ve initiated without consulting anyone went so well that you came back," you deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Ripping the bandaid was such a good call that now you’ve created one hell of an infection. Congrats for killing us both with your brilliance."

“It wasn’t easy for me to do this, you know? In fact, I’m pretty sure it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done," Doyoung confessed nervously. "Making you hate me was the only way to push you to move on from me. I thought the anger would fuel you to keep going. Your career had just taken off and your dreams were finally coming true, I couldn’t stand the thought of being the one who would ruin all that."

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked flabbergasted. "I told you that all of it was meaningless to me without you."

"I was so proud of you," he smiled weakly. "I watched you working and crying so hard over it so many times, but you never gave up. You made it, but now I see that the outcome of me leaving was the opposite of what I thought would happen. I was wrong."

“Doyoung, what have you done?" You pressed as the dots connected. "Please tell me you haven’t done what I think you’ve done."

Doyoung looked at you for a split second, irises filled with sadness and shame as he recognised your unmatched capacity to figure him out without him having to say anything. Then, he averted his gaze and bit his lower lip, replying to your last statement with a nod.

You could’ve sworn you heard your already crushed heart get crushed even more. He had pushed you away and let his insecurities get ahold of him, creating the six month long inferno that you went through.

"I can’t believe you threw us away like that," you whispered as the memories of what had happened started replaying in your mind’s eye one by one.

iii. under the moonlight

One year earlier

It’s been a year since you and Doyoung moved in together, and other two since you started dating.

The entire experience had been both beautiful and challenging because, despite loving each other to death, it took more than that to keep a relationship going. The strong bond and trust between you were built on both sunshine and rain, which made it all worth it. You had both fought for what you had now and found ways to accept and work through your differences (that weren’t few) without neglecting either of your feelings or sore spots. You had taken your time to learn how the other worked, physically and emotionally, and had reached a point where you’d balance each other out whenever things got rough.

When you first started dating three years ago, none of your friends expected you two to last more than a couple of months, knowing how fiery and stubborn both of you could be. A passionate affair, they called it, yet it turned out to be much more than that. The initial frenzy between you had melted and developed into a complex, full-blown array of feelings that only seemed to grow stronger as time flew by.

"They were wrong about us," you and Doyoung said in unison as you reminisced about your beginnings while clinking your glasses of wine in honour of your third anniversary.

***

Your connection ran so deeply that you’d either complete each other’s phrases or say the same things at the same time. You were so different, yet so similar. Like yin and yang, they were always drawn together by a magnetism so powerful that neither of them could oppose it. It was exhilarating, intoxicating, even, and you both wanted to get drunk on one another forever. You knew it from the moment you first kissed.

Doyoung displayed a calm and collected persona, but the sparks of his true essence would burst through the cracks of his protective façade. It made you wonder how nobody else could see this and feel the soft burns of those sparks of his on their skin, because you surely did.

To him, you were the intrigue that made his head spin. The one mystery he could not seem to solve was Doyoung prided himself on being good at figuring people out, so his interest was heightened when he couldn’t read you. You wore your heart on your sleeve fearlessly and could talk about an endless number of topics for hours, yet somehow he’d still leave barely knowing anything about you. That was your charm, and it pricked him. So much so that he made it his life's mission to decode you, the girl who had stolen his heart without him knowing when or how. And that was quite something considering the fact that Doyoung had always been an unaffected and unbothered human being whose attention was particularly difficult to get.

You teased the hell out of each other back on that mid-summer night when you first kissed under a full moon, with the stars as your witnesses.

You had already gotten to the point of hanging out together without your usual friends, but this time it just felt different from your usual meetups. It was all spicy, sassy banter sprinkled with moments of laughter that gradually built up the tension between the two of you until the air around you felt thick and charged with the kind of voltage that sent shivers down your spines.

After collecting your favourite snacks and beverages, Doyoung drove the two of you to the spot that you had discovered together when you grew tired of the cafes that buzzed with people and went out in search of more privacy and silence. “The Hideout”, as you called it, was a high hill on the outskirts of Seoul from where the city lights glimmered beautifully after dusk.

Once the car was parked in a position that offered you an equally pleasing view of both the city lights and the starry sky, you and Doyoung got out and sat yourselves on its hood as usual. Somewhere during the flowing conversation, you lifted your hand to playfully smack Doyoung’s arm for teasing you, but he caught it in his before you got to do anything.

Doyoung’s warm fingertips enveloped your own, and the impact of such a simple action was much more powerful than you’d expected. It felt like jolts of electricity were sent all across your body, making your skin prick with a rush that was hot and cold at the same time. You’d both been laughing, yet, as your gazes locked, your initial laughter melted down to small smiles. all of which made you suddenly become aware of how close the two of you were seated as the lingering scent of Doyoung’s cologne flooded your senses. It was comfortable being around him. His presence, his mind, and the way he carried himself made you feel at ease. You could fully be yourself with him, and he never made you regret letting him in, as he had been nothing but reliable and trustworthy. He felt safe. He felt like home.

His gaze was unwavering, and so was yours, refusing to look elsewhere. You stood there, analysing each other’s faces, as if you were trying to memorise and embed them into your minds for the moments when you were apart. Doyoung’s fingertips slowly let go of yours and started travelling up your arm till your shoulder and along your neck, leaving behind traces that felt like lines of fire. When he reached your face, he gently cradled and caressed it with his thumb, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back.

Your eyes traced his face, which looked entranced, with pupils dilated and plump, his pink lips suddenly seeming alluring.

You've been good friends so far. Though, for a while, you’d been stealing glances at one another a bit too often to remain just that. It was a line that both of you wanted to cross and shatter, having brewed for months. You gently leaned into his touch, and he understood it was your permission for him to go on. And he did. When his thumb grazed your lower lip and he felt you gasp lightly under his touch, Doyoung lost it. All the feelings he had accumulated clouded his mind, and all his barriers came tumbling down, making him close the gap between you and him and crash his lips onto yours.

To say that kissing Doyoung was addictive would be an understatement.

It felt like jumping straight into the eye of a hurricane and allowing it to consume you entirely as waves of adrenaline and bliss would wash over you.

The moment his lips landed on yours, you instantly turned your body towards him and pulled him closer to you. He smiled into the kiss, and you smiled back, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers through his hair. With his hands holding you tightly against him as he kissed you, Doyoung head was spinning with how intoxicating your lips felt against his. You took his lower lip between your teeth, sucked on it gently, and bit it a little harder before letting it go, making Doyoung breath hitch in his throat. But he didn’t back down. He grabbed you by the waist with both hands, lifting you up and placing you on his lap in a straddling position. He then responded by sliding his tongue across your lower lip and deepening the kiss once you granted him access, tongues and hearts intertwining in a dance of passion and dominance.

After kissing until you consumed all the air in your lungs, you finally parted, foreheads leaning into one another for support. Doyoung cheeks were dusted with pink and so were yours, full lips now swollen but smiling. Your fingers rested on the nape of his neck, caressing it gently, which made him smile even wider. You sat in a peaceful silence that was governed only by the sound of your heartbeats and breaths that were calming down together.

When Doyoung regained his composure enough, he spoke softly, "You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this."

You leaned in and kissed him one more time, then whispered on his lips teasingly, "The best things in life never come easily."

Doyoung giggled, pulled back a little to look into your eyes and cupped your cheek with one hand, "Exactly. So now that you’re finally mine, I’ll never let you go."

iv. yours (m)

"Babe? Are you okay?" Doyoung’s voice echoed worriedly and snapped you out of your daze.

"Yeah, of course," you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

"What's on your mind?"

"How'd you know there's something?" You retorted playfully.

"I know you," he chuckled as he put down his glass of wine and walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. "You were looking on the window like there was some movie playing outside."

"That's because there was a memory replaying in my mind."

"Alright. What are we 'watching'? Doyoung questioned, entering your game.

"Our first kiss," you said, putting your own glass of wine on the kitchen counter before you and turning around to face Doyoung. "It still feels like a dream, you feel like a dream."

Doyoung smiled bashfully at your words, making your heart swoon over how cute he could be.

"Three years have passed since then, and sometimes I still can't believe that this is real either."

You broke into a fit of laughter that left Doyoung a little confused at first, but he immediately grinned back, unable to resist your contagious giggles, "What? What's so funny?"

Resting your palms against his chest, you looked up at him, amused, "When did we get so sappy? We used to cringe together every time we'd hear others say stuff like this, and now look what has come of us."

Doyoung let out a hearty laugh, nodding at the validity of your point, "Yeah, I guess being in love can do some messed up things to one's brain. I couldn't believe that's possible since the amount of cringe it stirred within me pained me physically. Until it happened to me too."

"Yes, exactly, it was painfully cringe to watch or hear. But then you came along and I–" you suddenly came to a halt in the middle of your sentence," Okay, no, no, let's change the tape.I'm doing it again, I'm being cringe! What have I become? It's all your fault!" You laughed even more, smacking Doyoung’s arm dramatically and walking away to the living room.

"Oh, it's my fault now?" Doyoung cocked a brow and placed his hands on his hips in faux offence. "You're just as guilty!"

"I'm in denial, okay?" You threw your hands up in the air, knowing that you were, in fact, guilty as charged.

Doyoung shook his head, chuckling at your flamboyance.

Though, just as unexpectedly, your mood took an abrupt turn, features shifting from humoured to serious.

“Even more when I look at you and all I feel is fire igniting my bones. The kind of flame that wants to engulf both of us so we'd burn together as one," you added, purring in a way that sent shivers down Doyoung’s spine.

Impulsive was the word that described the two of you perfectly. It had been a blessing and a curse, but it kept the magnetism between you up and running, pushing you to be the best versions of yourselves to make things work.In

that moment, you swore you could see the flame that you talked about lighting up in his irises, as if it had passed on from you to him. This is the perfect depiction of how receptive you were to each other's intense emotions. Always in tune, as if you were created to function like mirrors, finding solace in your similarities and fuel in your differences.

Doyoung said nothing at first, only taking steps towards you as his eyes never left yours. You had flipped a switch in him, and you knew it by the way he walked, like a hunter nearing his prey, chocolate-hued eyes now as dark as the midnight sky, twinkling with something that you both shared. Lust. Though, in your case, the dynamic went to the next level, because there was no longer a hunter and prey chase, but a hunter versus hunter, his silence fuelling your increasing desire with the sting of expectation.

With your shoulder leaning against the wall and your arms folded across your chest nonchalantly, you lifted your chin, challenging him with your gaze. Doyoung took the hint, the shadow of a smirk transcending his lips swiftly as his steps halted, his figure now towering over yours.

The little game between you felt like you were dancing along a high-tension wire whose voltage was sizzling under your every move.

"Be careful what you wish for because it might actually happen," he finally spoke, his voice dropping an octave lower than usual.

The cold tips of your fingers ran along the side of Doyoung’s neck, touch as light as a feather, leaving traces of goosebumps behind. His pupils dilated, opening up like umbrellas in the pouring rain while he fought with his sense of control to contain his shudders. Pleased with the effect you had on Doyoung despite his efforts to mask it, you carried on.

You leaned in, your lips ghosting his but refusing to kiss him just yet.

"Good. I'd be disappointed if it didn't," you smarted.

With that, your hand cupped Doyoung’s cheek and you brushed your lips against his, kissing him gingerly, testing the waters.

However, the air was knocked out of your lungs when Doyoung pushed your body even further into the wall, completely gluing you to it.

"You're such a tease. You enjoy getting on my nerves a little too much," he growled. "I guess I'll just have to fuck that attitude out of you."

You rolled your eyes at him defiantly, "As if you'd get so riled up if you weren't into it."

"It's amusing how you weren't even half as cocky the last time my head was between your legs and you were telling me 'baby, don't stop'," he smirked.

You scoffed.

Two can play this game, Kim.

Your palm dipped down between you and him right on his increasing bulge, your fingers enveloping him through the material of his sweatpants. You gave him a methodical squeeze, coaxing a moan that vibrated against your lips.

Damn, that was hot, you thought as you felt the tension between your thighs increase.

"Not so cocky now either, are we?" You winked.

"Oh, shut up," he feigned exasperation. "You're evil."

"Which is why you love me even more."

"What can I say," Doyoung chuckled darkly as he descended to your neck, covering it with butterfly kisses that were laced with stingy bites, "I guess I'm a little bit of a masochist myself."

As he nipped at your collarbone, he lowered one of his hands, reaching for the hem of your short black dress and tauntingly lifting it, making sure his fingertips caressed you all the way up. He took off your dress and threw it on the floor, pure desire gleaming from his irises as they roamed admiringly over your body. You impatiently tugged at his T-shirt, which he removed quickly, discarding it along with your bra that he unclasped in one move.

Aching to feel the warmth of your skin on his, Doyoung didn't waste another minute, crashing his lips back onto yours after commanding decidedly, "Jump."

You obeyed, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You dug your teeth into his lower lip, making him hiss, his fingers sinking further into the soft flesh of your thighs. Not bothering to travel to the bedroom, Doyoung carried you to the living room table and placed you on it carefully. He then pulled away, his warm tongue creating a winding path from your jawline down to your chest, where he made a stop. He pressed one of your nipples between his lips while squeezing the other with his fingers, applying just enough pressure to make you moan. He flicked his tongue over each rosy bud and bit into them gently, not leaving either one neglected.

At this point, the throbbing sensation in your core becomes almost unbearable, making you whine, "Doyoung."

"Yes, baby?" He replied, smiling knowingly.

"I want your tongue inside me. Now."

Hearing your voice dripping with lust made Doyoung’s head run wild.

You'll drive me insane, woman.

"You needn't ask that twice, my love," he grinned as he gently pushed you back while hooking one finger around the rim of your panties, taking them off. He crouched before you, kissing your inner thighs and sliding his fingers painfully slowly over your folds, making you shiver in anticipation.

"Fuck," he grumbled as he realized how wet you were for him. Unable to resist any longer, he attacked you with his tongue and began skilfully drawing intricate patterns with it.

"Oh my," you breathed out as your fingers grasped Doyoung’s hair, your mind clouded with pleasure.

He hummed against your core, sending a vibration through your most sensitive spot as he continued moving even lower, his tongue now circling your entrance and making your back arch.

You almost screamed the moment his tongue penetrated you, the firm muscle gliding unforgivingly against your innermost parts and grazing your sweetest point. He also teased you a little with his fingers that would periodically press on your clit, elevating the pressure on the already existing knot that had gathered in the pit of your stomach, announcing the nearing of your climax.

Doyoung knew that you'd pay him back for the teasing, but he couldn't help it. The sounds and curses you were letting out were maddening, causing the swell in his pants to go rock-hard and pulsate too. When he felt you tense up and noticed your back beginning to arch more, he knew you were almost there. He retracted his tongue and latched his mouth onto your clit instead, sucking and circling it while he inserted two fingers inside you and began moving them in and out at a ravaging speed.

You held onto the living room table for dear life while the moans and sounds of your wetness fucked by Doyoung’s fingers deepened. Not too long after, the pressure you had accumulated exploded into a mind-blowing orgasm that made you see stars as you screamed out Doyoung’s name. Although, he didn't stop, only slightly decreasing his speed as he guided you through riding out your high.

When he sensed you had relaxed and become reactive to the over-sensitivity that had settled into your core, he slowly took out his fingers and licked his full lips in such a sultry way that your breath hitched in your throat.

He looked like Eros incarnate, his pale skin glistening with desire that seemed to spread along his figure like a wild, climbing rose. With his hooded eyes luring you in, you propped yourself onto your elbow and pulled him to you by the silver necklace that was dangling around his neck, kissing away your wetness from his lips like it was honey, then taking him in your embrace and allowing him to catch his breath.

"You're fucking amazing," you said quietly, biting the shell of his ear.

He chuckled in response, though his voice vibrated huskily with pending lust that deepened its sound, "So are you."

Doyoung lifted himself off of you when he decided he'd had enough rest, and you grabbed the hand whose fingers had made you scream just a few minutes before and put it into your mouth, tongue flicking on it as you licked it clean of your juices. Doyoung gasped at the sight, eyes ablaze with a fire that you swear could've burned down the entire world in the most beautiful way if he'd wanted it.

He scooped you up into his arms, this time heading to the bedroom, which meant one thing.

Things were about to get intense.

When the two of you entered the bedroom, Doyoung put you down, and the moment your feet touched the floor, you looked at each other for a split second and smiled. There was a feral glint in your irises that made it clear you were going to devour one another. Your lips reunited in a longing kiss, tongues and teeth clashing like the end of the world was coming and there would be no tomorrow.

As you approached the bed with frantic movements, you pushed down both Doyoung’s sweatpants and boxers at once, his length now springing free. Without breaking the kiss, you grazed his tip with your fingertips, transferring onto them the pre-cum and sliding it down his length with pressure to create a faint sense of friction. Then, you wrapped your fingers a little more tightly around him and pumped him a few times in the rhythm of his already existing pulsation, to which he moaned into your mouth and squeezed your hip hard.

"You're killing me," he grunted.

Finally reaching the bed, you pushed Doyoung down on it in a not-so-gentle way, "Sit back, baby, I'll take it from here. I wanna ride."

"If that isn't one of the hottest fucking things I've ever heard, I don't know what else is," he replied adoringly as he obeyed your request.

"Well, I won't stop until you scream," you smirked.

He bit his lip at your words and you could see clearly the way he was boiling for you. Like a minefield that was about to burst under your touch. His body had liquefied under the weight of his desire, turning him into a mess of need.

Though, you weren't just going to give it to him so easily, and he knew that.

It only turned him on more.

You kneeled onto the bed and crawled up to him like a predator, a fiery look sparkling in your eyes. Even if the simple feel of you made him shiver, Doyoung stood his ground expectantly, his feverish stare unwavering like he had accepted a challenge.

It made you smile, though. The burning passion that he exhaled. It reminded you even more of why you had fallen so deeply in love with him and why you were so certain that it couldn't have been anyone else but him.

Despite the way that you consumed one another, he was the steady rhythm of your life, like the rising and falling of your chest when breathing, as vital to you as air itself. Doyoung was your soulmate. The one that remained in your heart even after your moments of ardent loving dived down.

You gracefully placed yourself on top of him, both legs on his sides, not allowing him inside you just yet. You held out your hand, urging him to come into a seating position.

He raised an eyebrow, noticing your change of attitude, but didn't question it, knowing that your unpredictability was one of your most beautiful traits.

"Come here, love," you whispered affectionately.

Doyoung’s features softened at your words, his lips curving into a smile. He complied, now seated with you in his lap.

You rested your palms on the base of his neck, and he automatically wrapped his arms around your torso. You lifted his chin up with two fingers and kissed him. Slowly but decidedly, pouring all your love into the synced movements of your lips. You could've sworn that he was made for you, and he could've sworn the same, because all your touches and breaths melted together perfectly, blending like two particles of the same essence.

You then leaned your forehead against his and spoke earnestly, "I love you more than anything else in this world. There's no me without you."

Doyoung gasped, the spontaneous nature of your being never ceasing to astonish him. Never had he felt so deeply connected and enamoured with someone before. He felt tears of pure joy well up in the corners of his eyes as a result of the way you expressed your love. He broke into one of his breathtaking smiles as he pulled back to look at you directly and reciprocated your statement,

"I love you more than anything else in this world. There's no me without you."

And so, he kissed you, wiping away any trace of worry, stress, or pain, as if you never knew such emotions existed. As if you've never known anything but love and happiness. Anything but him.

You bit and sucked on his lower lip as if it were the sweetest candy you've ever tasted. You ran your fingers through his hair while you began to grind your dripping core slowly over his solid length, enveloping him in your wetness.

Doyoung moaned once more into your mouth, and that awoke in you the need that had stilled a bit during your confession. A need that had awoken within him too.

"Fuck, I want you so badly," he growled in between kisses.

"Is that so?" You teased, swaying your hips and pressing your core against his length intentionally.

He hissed and said your name warningly.

Not impressed by his threat, you carried on innocently, "What was that, love? I didn't quite understand you."

Losing his patience, he enveloped one of his hands around your neck possessively, his thumb pressing down on your airways, slightly constricting them. You gasped and grinned, pleased by his action.

"Stop pressing on my nerves unless you want me to fuck you senseless," he said huskily.

"What if that's what I want?"

"Fucking hell, you're actually out to kill me," he whined in response to your boldness.

"It's just a way to remind you that you're mine," you emphasised, clutching his neck possessively. "And that I'm yours," you whispered on his lips.

That was the fuel that both of you needed.

You lifted yourself up, supporting yourself with one hand on Doyoung’s shoulder while the other guided him to your entrance.

You both shuddered blissfully as you lowered, taking him inside you slowly, your walls embracing him tightly and warmly.

You tilted your head to kiss him deeply, your tongues intertwining and fighting lustfully, your body beginning to bounce on him. Your sweet side disappeared as fast as it came, your primal instincts taking ahold of you and bringing out the side that drove Doyoung crazy.

Your dominance.

You pushed him back on the pillows, your palms resting on his legs for support as your body twisted in motions reminiscent of the unbidden dance of the ocean waves.

Doyoung sank one hand deeper into the flesh of your hip, the metal of his rings biting into your skin. A feeling that you absolutely loved because it riled you up even more. His other hand roamed freely across your body, cupping your breasts, kneading and caressing with touches that felt hot and cold at the same time.

You picked up the pace and you could hear Doyoung cussing and marvelling at how beautiful you looked on top of him, long black hair falling in disheveled waves on your back and sweaty porcelain skin glimmering in the dimly lit room like it was covered in silver beads of dew.

His hand that used to knead at your breasts now travelled south dangerously fast, finding its way to your bundle of nerves and circling it intently.

This caused you to throw your head back and moan out loud, "Doyoung," feeling how you were approaching your second climax rapidly.

He moaned your name back in response, fingers pressing and circling on your clit even harder, sending you over the edge as your walls tightened and coaxed a screaming orgasm out of Doyoung as well.

“Oh my fucking God," he panted breathlessly.

Though, that didn't stop him. He was determined to engrave this night into both of your memories and bodies for a long time.

He abruptly sat up and wrapped one arm around your waist, flipping you over without exiting you. Now he was hovering over you and crashing his lips onto yours like he was going to lose both you and himself if he didn't kiss you like his life depended on it.

You eagerly responded, feeling his hips starting to thrust into you with rhythmical movements, striking fast and deep. You hadn't even had time to recover from the high of your second orgasm when you felt your third one approaching, and you swear your soul was about to leave your body to travel to the heavens.

Through messy kisses, Doyoung called your name with his angelic voice and urged, "Come with me, baby."

It was all you needed to hear.

He looked at you like you were the most beautiful human being he had ever seen and wondered what he had done to be blessed with someone like you. Unhinged, sweet, free and fiery, you were nothing else but the woman of his dreams come true.

You locked gazes as you climaxed together, unbeknownst to both of you, that you were synced in thought too, as you melted into each other, gasping for air.

She's everything.

He's everything.

Doyoung glued his body to yours and nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, remaining there until he caught his breath. You welcomed him into your arms, your fingertips gently brushing his disheveled hair out of his line of sight.

You stood there for a couple of minutes, heart on heart, regaining your composure. Then, Doyoung slowly got out, making you shiver due to the overstimulation, but you didn't mind. You were too busy thinking amusedly about how you'll be walking the following day.

When you felt the bed dip beside you, you turned your head to see him lying down, cutely flushed but smiling, watching you intently.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi, love," you replied, making his heart skip a beat and a blinding smile bloom on his face.

"Happy third anniversary, my love," he, too, responded.

"Happy third anniversary, baby," you giggled giddily.

You curled up next to him, allowing him to embrace you as tiredness began sinking in, taking ahold of you both.

Little did you know that the high you've been riding on for three years would soon turn into a heartbreaking low.

v. falling to pieces

Six months earlier

It’s been three years and a half since you and Doyoung started dating.

Yet, somehow, good things are always bound to go through their fair share of storms. The only aspect that determines whether they’re going to last and make it in the battle against time is how tightly both parties are willing to hold on to each other. How much they care.

Although, too much care without the light of reason can turn out to be just as destructive as indifference.

The heart is a difficult entity to tame, because it tends to be wounded easily, thus causing it to impulsively reject the rational salvation offered by the brain. In other words, if its emotions are not kept under control and balanced by some logic, the heart will become overwhelmed and will end up breaking its own self.

When such a thing occurs, there’s no bigger fool than the one who lost his head and allowed it to happen.

You and Doyoung have been working intensely on your careers. Him on perfecting his vocal and songwriting skills while chasing his ideal record deal, you on sharpening your painting techniques for your upcoming exhibition while chasing a spot as an art critique writer at one of South Korea’s top-tier magazines.

It is needless to say that the competition in both industries was cutthroat.

The road to the top was paved with various unexpected obstacles and turns of circumstance. Resisting repeated rejection and meanness carelessly thrown by petty people who didn’t want to see you succeed required solid emotional and physical resistance due to the high amount of work expected of you nonetheless. Nobody cared about your struggles, they only cared about the well-done work. And when they received the well-done work, their hawk eyes scanned it for any imperfection, any little detail to pick on that would give them grounds to cancel you.

It had been tough. Especially for Doyoung, who had left his small hometown to come all the way to Seoul by himself, without any support from his family. They had been against him making music since the very beginning. The ever-irritating cliché of the parents who went as far as giving up on their own child due to their narrow views of artistic fields being ’more of a hobby’ than ’an actual career’. But, even if such a cliché had become part of popular culture at this point, that didn’t make it any less painful or traumatic.

Doyoung’s parents had been cruel to him. They had told him that they no longer wanted to have anything to do with him because of the fact that he had chosen to do what he loved over their family’s business, thus dismantling what had been a three-generation old tradition of running a wine company. They had told him he was worthless, pathetic, and a disappointment who would return to them once he discovered what "real life" was all about, because passions should be just that — passions and nothing more.a means of distraction from quotidian stress.

And they didn’t stop there. Coming from a place where his parents had quite an influence over their relatives and among their circle of uptight high-class bastards, they all turned their backs and spat at Doyoung after his father had spread the word about his son’s so-called ’ungratefulness’.

But Doyoung didn’t let their harsh words discourage him. Swallowing the bitterness that they threw his way, he left his hometown set on proving them wrong. He had locked away in a chamber of his mind everything that was related to his family and past in order to start anew. It was his parents who became the uninvited distraction that would sometimes manage to infiltrate his thoughts, making Doyoung prone to self-sabotage, amongst other wounds that they’d created within him. Even so, Doyoung stayed strong and bright, fighting with and for himself.

When you first met him, he came across as fun yet aloof. The guy seemed to have built titanium walls around his heart, though you didn’t pressure him to tell you his reasons for doing so. Later on, that turned out to be why he felt at ease being around you and opened up on his own initiative after you’d become the kind of close friends that couldn’t go a day without talking.

As time passed, you discovered that there was much more to Doyoung than met the eye, and that was how you started falling in love with him. Slowly, then all at once. He was thoughtful, caring, and reliable. He was the kind of person you could count on to be there when everyone else would bail on you, because he never would. Not when he knew all too well how it felt. Just like that, you became each other’s safe place and source of unconditional support.

You, on the other hand, have had the luck of being born into a family of artists. With your mother, a classical musician, and your father, a writer, you’ve had your parents backing you up all the way, whenever you needed it. They had cultivated your love for all forms of art ever since you were a child, along with a sense of self-discipline and diligence. All of which have helped you tremendously while working towards achieving your goals.

Having grown up with a healthy emotional support system, you couldn’t accept or understand the cruelty of Doyoung’s family. In fact, you hated them for what they’d done and admired him for having the courage and strength to oppose them.

Even if he never expected nor asked for it from you, you took it upon yourself to try to heal the wounds of the person who meant the most to you. You’ve cried and suffered with him as he went through all the stages of anxiety, anger, sadness, and self-hatred because of his parents, which was yet another reason why you’d never stand them. Seeing a soul as good as Doyoung being mistreated so ruthlessly made you promise yourself to protect him from their maliciousness at all costs.

Elevated stress had always been a bad omen for Doyoung. His already short temper would grow shorter and his depression would almost relapse when things weighed too heavily on his shoulders. He fought with them constantly during such periods, but sometimes he’d get tired and he’d start closing himself off, needing his time alone, which you’d grant and understand him for.

This was exactly what had been going on in the couple of months that had passed since your third anniversary.

You had succeeded in obtaining the spot as an art critique writer and were caught up with a huge amount of work at the office while also preparing for the inauguration of your art exhibition, which you had recently completed.

Doyoung was in the process of polishing the first album he had written and produced himself, while also being in talks with several labels who’d wanted to sign him off after getting a glimpse of his talent. He had gone viral a few months prior after uploading two of the songs from his now-finished album on Spotify and Instagram, making his DMs pour in ever since.

Chasing dreams was supposed to be fun, you and Doyoung used to joke when you tiredly reunited after long days of not seeing each other until late at night. However, you couldn’t help but worry about him and feel like something was off. It had been a while since he closed off, and he would’ve normally come back out by now. Only he didn’t, despite the fact that you reminded him gently that you were there for him no matter what.

For about a week, you’d been feeling like you were about to lose it.

Doyoung had closed himself off even more, barely eating or saying anything during your brief time together, mostly lost in thought. And, as much as you didn’t want to push him, your concern got the best of you, and you ended up asking him about it anyway.

"Doyoung?" You began shyly, looking at your boyfriend, who was flipping through the pages of one of your sketchbooks.

"Yes?" He replied in the absentminded voice that was starting to create a void in your heart, not making eye contact.

"What’s wrong, baby?"

"Nothing, I’m just tired."

I’ve heard that excuse far too many times, I can’t take it anymore.

"Doyoung," you pressed.

"What?" He finally lifted his head and looked at you, his features tinged with a slight hint of irritation.

"I'm concerned about you," you admitted. "You’re barely eating or saying anything."

"I told you it’s nothing."

"Don’t hide from me, please. I can feel you. I’m almost losing it here while you choose to keep me in the dark. Why are you shutting me out?"

"Why do you keep looking for answers that aren’t there?" He said coldly, slamming your sketchbook shut.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" You scrunched your brows in confusion.

"It means that I need space."

"I’ve been giving you ’space’ for months now. You never needed space that long, not from me. I’m asking you all this because I care about you and I want to understand you. How could I do that if you won’t talk to me?"

He scoffed, and you felt as if someone had just punched you in the gut, but you kept your composure.

“Perhaps you should care less about me. That would be useful for us both."

“Okay, that’s just straight up rude. I just wanted to help. What have I even done to you?"

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t want your help? Or do you need to have someone to fix?"

That was a low blow.

"Where is all of this even coming from? What’s going on with you these days?" You went on, despite the sting that you felt from his words.

"What’s been going on is that I think we should break up. I couldn’t find the right moment to tell you this, but it seems like you made one right now, so I might just as well get this over with."

First bullet to the heart.

"What the-?" you gaped at him in disbelief. "You don’t really mean that."

"Is it that hard for you to fathom that, perhaps, I do? We’ve been living like strangers for quite some time. This shouldn’t come as a surprise," he retorted.

“Yeah, we’ve been living that way because you needed goddamn space, I was respecting your needs. Can’t you hear yourself? You’re not even making sense! First you say you need space, then you talk as if it’s my fault we’ve gotten more distant. Things aren’t adding up, so just stop lying to me already and grow the balls to be honest!" You raised your voice, losing your patience.

"Of course it’s my fault, it’s not like you can assume anything," Doyoung snorted.

"You’re being so fucking unfair," you hissed. "Not to mention idiotic and twisted, but those are just meaningless aspects now, aren’t they?"

You got up from the couch where you were seated, stepping closer to Doyoung who was pacing around the living room, and added, "There’s something you’re not telling me and I really don’t understand why the hell you’re hiding. We used to tell each other everything."

"Used to, past tense," he emphasised sternly. "And are you sure you want me to be honest?"

Second bullet to the heart.

“By all means, go ahead if you’ve magically found some scrap of courage and decency within the past two minutes," you backfired sarcastically.

"I don’t feel it anymore, whatever this is," he began, gesturing between himself and you with his index finger. "It’s going nowhere, which makes me think that we’d be better off going our separate ways."

"Said you, who’ve been basically sabotaging our relationship for months. By the way you’re talking, I can’t help but believe that you’ve done it on purpose. You’re just dropping everything like it means nothing to you. You’re not even making an effort to work things out! You really expect me to believe all this bullshit that you’re impulsively throwing at me? Will you just cut the crap and tell me what the hell is going on?"

"For fuck’s sake, you’re worse than my mother with all your nagging, you manage to scratch all my wounds at once with grace! I don’t know when or how the fuck you started following in her footsteps and surpassing her!” He yelled out.

Third bullet to the heart.

Before he would get to say anything else, you cut him off, absolutely outraged by what he had said, "I am worse than your mother? How dare you say that, you ungrateful asshole? Me, the person who was there for you when you were at your lowest because of her and your father? Me, the person who held you together when you were falling apart, cried with you, and put you back on your feet? I am worse than her?"

Your heart felt like it was about to break out of your rib cage while your mind was clouded with an overwhelming hurricane made up of anger, hurt and disappointment that were strangling you. This can’t be happening, he can’t be fucking serious, you thought through the entire disaster.

You hadn’t even noticed that you had started shivering slightly. You had your own share of problems that you kept under control by yourself the entire time, not wanting to put any kind of pressure on Doyoung. Though, what had been brewing within you since the two of you started growing apart was showing its side effects now.

After you’d said your last line, Doyoung realised he had taken it too far. Much farther than he had initially intended. Concern flooded him as he watched you turn pale before him while a few droplets of blood made their way out of your nose and down onto your lips, making you hiss at the metallic taste that Doyoung knew you hated terribly.

He started scolding himself mentally for having been oblivious to the fact that you, too, had been under a high amount of stress. He rushed over to you when he saw you leaning into the wall for support, but you slapped his hand away.

"Baby, let me-"

"Don’t fucking touch me," you thundered threateningly. "You wouldn’t want someone worse than your damned mother so close to you."

Doyoung closed his eyes for a second and sighed, cursing himself some more for letting his pain get the better of him.

"I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry."

"Don't bother," you said as you shook your head, your glare so cold and sharp that Doyoung couldn't believe it was you. "I can’t do this right now, I’m exhausted. Not that you’d care, though, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’m going to bed. Save it for tomorrow."

"Of course I ca-"

“Goodnight, Doyoung," you cut him off, unwilling to listen to whatever justification he’d bring.

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you, leaving Doyoung to wallow in the mess he had created.

Dropping down on the couch and running a hand through his hair, he whispered to himself, "Congratulations for breaking the record on being the most miserable motherfucker alive."

vi. faithless love

One month before NYE

“Doyoung, you fucking scumbag!" Ten almost screeched into the phone.

He had impulsively called Doyoung after he tucked you in because you started crying again that you were missing him and he couldn’t take seeing you like that anymore. So he took the matter into his own hands. Enough was enough.

He’s been trying to make you get over Doyoung for months, but he was failing miserably. At first, Ten thought that it was a matter of time, but after seeing your sorrow deepen as the weeks flew by, he realised that it wasn’t. There is no getting over Doyoung for you. Looking at both of you only strengthened Ten’s belief that soulmates could actually be a real thing. If they were separated from one another, what they'd become would be agonizing to watch. Being apart has made both you and Doyoung look paler than ghosts and feel physically sick.

"Hello to you too. It's been no less than a day since you last called to spit curses at me," Doyoung deadpanned, his voice as unenthusiastic as it had always been. "You’ve got quite a unique way of checking up on your friends."

“That’s because you’re stupid. Both of you are," Ten mumbled under his breath. “We went to the inauguration of her newest exhibition today. It was so crowded that even I felt a little agoraphobic. Have you seen the pictures? They must be online by now."

"Yes, I have, I’ve seen them all. They were breathtaking. Her art is so raw and impactful, I was sure she’d steal their hearts, " Doyoung sighed, nostalgia tugging at his own heartstrings.

“I just put her to sleep, but I’m worried. She’s gotten worse, I’ve never seen her so down before. You have no idea what I’ve gone through these months trying to keep her afloat. I have no clue how to handle this if it advances further. I’ve basically moved in with her to make sure she’s okay. I was afraid she was going to do something stupid," Ten rambled, gesturing frantically. "She’s entered that tricky phase in which she fools everyone that she’s doing great. Hell, she even seems like it. But when you least expect it, she drops like a dead battery in dire need of charging. That’s what happened today at the exhibition, she couldn’t stand on her feet anymore."

Guilt burned Doyoung’s insides like acid. So much so that he felt like jumping out of his own skin. He’d been spinning in the same vicious circle ever since he left—a heart-wrenching need to run at full speed back to you and the thought that he’d make things worse if he returned, pinning him down.

"I had the same concerns about you too, because you’re no better!" Ten continued. "Both of you are my friends. It hurts me to see you this way. I should be awarded therapist of the year for succeeding in keeping up with two stubborn idiots like you!"

"Ten, you know why this happened, I explained it to you a hundred times.”

"Yeah and if you’ve explained it to me a hundred times, that doesn’t make your reason less stupid!"

Exasperated by Ten and the dull ache in his chest, Doyoung wasn’t far from banging his head against a wall, "And what do you want me to do?"

"Kim, you terribly imbecile, ever cretin asshole of this universe, will come to my New Years party and you will make it your life’s mission to get her back and make it up to her," Ten spoke through gritted teeth over the phone, losing his patience.

"No," Doyoung replied categorically.

"Yes."

"No."

"YES."

"Ten, what the heck? What is this? Dumb and dumber having a ’yes’ and ’no’ conversation thread? I told you, it’s not going to happen."

"Yes, it is. Unless you want me to personally embark on a plane to Melbourne and drag your ass back here myself. You know how delulu I can be. I will actually do that if I set my mind to it. Don’t go scanning the floor looking for your jaw when you’ll hear me fucking your doorbell," Ten countered, refusing to back down. "Also, that was a very good movie, you unappreciative jerk. You people these days have no respect whatsoever for Jim Carrey’s comedic genius! If I’m thinking more about it, the two of you are the real-life dumb and dumber!"

“Thanks, dude, that’s some real grown up shit to say. I can feel the wisdom passing from you to me, I think my chakras are about to open," Doyoung snapped ironically, rolling his eyes. "How are you so certain she’ll want that? If I were her, I’d hate me to death by now and for good reason."

”Will you stop being such a chicken already? I know her. Even better than you since we grew up together. She doesn’t want anyone else. When will you get that through your thick skull?"

Each time Doyoung heard Ten tell him that, he could barely believe it. He couldn’t understand how someone like you could still want someone as messed up as him.

He sucked in a sharp breath in an attempt to control the tightness building up in his throat, not wanting Ten to hear how close he was to breaking down and crying too.

"She’s been telling me that she’ll never fall in love again because she wouldn’t stand another person taking your place, and if I hear another Taylor Swift song because of you, I’m going to throw up on these curtains! A few of that woman’s songs are so unbelievably fitting for this situation that it makes me sick. She even named her exposition after a line from that damned folklore album! That’s where ’faithless love’ came from, and me, along with my cats, are done with Swift for the next five years!" Ten whisper-screams at Doyoung while pacing around your living room.

He took a pause of a couple of seconds to catch his breath and shake off his recently acquired horrors, then carried on, "You were tougher than a goddamn rock, dude. What the hell happened to that?"

"I lost her. That’s what happened. No, actually, that’s downplayed. I left her. She was the one that kept me grounded, I’ve been a walking corpse ever since. I’m not the same."

“And whose fault was that? Neither is she, and that’s your mess to fix," Ten shot back. "You owe her this. You say you love her and that you’re fading away without her, but you’re not doing shit about it."

"I left because I love her. She’s better off without me."

"You have no idea how lucky you are that you’re miles away," Ten hissed angrily. "If you would’ve been anywhere near me, you would’ve been heading out to the ER right now to ask them to put your face back together for saying and, even worse, believing that bullshit."

After bargaining with Doyoung over the phone for another hour and using all the aces he had up his sleeve, Ten succeeded in convincing him to come. Even if he knew it’d hurt Doyoung, Ten assumed it and told him all the details about how you’ve been since he left, not holding anything back anymore. He’d kept things on the low so far only because he understood Doyoung’s perspective and the background that determined him to make such a stupid decision, even if he didn’t agree with it. Ten was certain that this was the only way to make his stubborn friend realise what a huge mistake he’d made and that you did, in fact, need him.

Now all Ten could do was hope for everything to have a positive outcome.

Though, he couldn’t deny that, deep down, he was a little worried about how you were going to react. If there was one thing he had learned after so many years of friendship with you, it was the fact that your emotions could be like tsunamis of uncertainty. Especially when you are badly hurt. This could make you spit at the person that had wronged you in the face, even if, on the inside, you’d want nothing more than to have them in your life. You’ve always had quite a sense of pride, and all he prayed for was that your feelings would be stronger in this case. Strong enough to make you overlook your suffering.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Ten almost jumped when he heard the door to your bedroom open and saw you coming out. Feeling panic seeping in, all he could do as he watched you come up to him was wonder whether you’d heard anything while mentally facepalming himself for slipping up a few times and almost yelling at Doyoung.

"Hey, you," he began, trying to sound as normal as possible. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing happened. I just woke up with a dry throat, and I saw that I was out of water. I came to grab a new bottle from the fridge," you replied sleepily, to which Ten let out a relieved sigh when you passed by him.

“Oh, I see. I forgot to check that, otherwise I would’ve brought you more water."

"It’s okay, don’t worry about it," you said from the kitchen, as you grabbed the water bottle and returned to talk to Ten. "Though, I thought I heard you screaming."

Ten froze, looking left-right with a constipated grin plastered on his face.

"Is there something wrong? Or didn’t I hear well? I’m not fully functional at this hour. Sometimes I get the wrong impression."

"Oh no, nothing’s wrong, babe. It was just Yangyang pissing me off," Ten tried to deflect, "you know how he gets."

"Mhm," you mumbled.

"I’m sorry if I woke you up."

"No, you didn’t, it was just my throat. I guess I should drink more liquids," you mused. "Aren’t you going to change and rest? That brat didn’t even let you get into your pyjamas."

"I will, don’t worry. I think I’ll take a shower first, and then I’ll go to sleep."

"Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then."

"Yes, go back to bed, darling. You’ve had a long day. Sleep well!"

"Thanks, sleep well too. Night," you waved as you walked back to your bedroom.

"Night, babe!" Ten waved back a bit too cheerfully, glad that you were too exhausted to notice his awkwardness.

"Hey, Ten?" You called out suddenly, only your head peeking out of the bedroom.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for today. And for everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you, I hope you know that."

That had been the most heartfelt thing you had said in months and it almost made Ten want to cry out of joy. You sounded like yourself again, his best friend, favourite person and the soul he was missing so dearly. It was moments like this that were telling him that he did succeed to help one way or another, despite the huge amount of pain that you’ve been through. This was everything he needed to hear for him to know that there was some hope that maybe, one day, you’ll actually be back. That you won’t have to fake being yourself anymore.

"I know, my dearest. You needn’t thank me, that’s what friends are for. I love you too, and I’ll always be here for you," Ten smiled fondly.

When the door to your bedroom was shut, Ten finally relaxed. Truth be told, he was grateful that you didn’t pick up on things. He wouldn’t have known how to escape your wrath if you'd caught him. It was better this way.

"That was close," he sighed as he grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom to finish his day off with a shower. "This better work, otherwise I’ll be both doomed and out of ideas."

vii. bandaids

"I can’t believe you threw us away like that."

As the memories of what had happened fast forwarded in your mind, you gripped the railing of the elevator. Your head was running wild with a million conflicting thoughts crashing into each other all at once.

Doyoung watched you attentively, expecting you to lash out, throw fists, or curse the living hell out of him.

But you didn’t.

You stood frozen, staring into a void with a blank expression, not uttering a single word. You had gone into one of the modes that made you impossible to read, and that put Doyoung on the edge because he hated being unable to decipher you. Particularly in this situation, where the last thing he wanted was for you to become unreachable and slip away. Because, frankly, he didn’t think he’d survive it.

I’m losing her and I haven’t even begun.

After two agonising minutes that seemed like ages to Doyoung, you looked at him, your glance so piercing and steely that it made him feel small.

You scanned his features, noticing how tense he was while he awaited your response as eagerly as a man who had gone through a torrid desert in search of water and had finally found it. But, you weren’t planning to make this neither easy nor relieving. He deserved to be boiled and to get a taste of his own medicine, and that was exactly what you were going to give him.

You let go of the railing and straightened your posture. Immediately noticing the change, Doyoung’s tension increased. Not sparing him even a faint second of a glance, you walked past him to the opposite corner of the elevator, avoiding touching him like he was the resurrected plague. You leaned into the wall with your arms folded over your chest, gluing your back to it, and looked out at the city lights. You could see Doyoung fidgeting through the corner of your eye, but he eventually settled and gripped onto the railing where you previously stood.

"You lied to me," you finally said, your voice distant but calm. "You kept insisting that nothing was wrong when something clearly was. Why?"

Upon hearing you talk, Doyoung let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding.

"I told you, I wanted to protect you."

"I asked why, Doyoung, I didn’t ask what you did or didn’t want to do from your obviously distorted perspective. So, I repeat, why?"

“Because if I would’ve told you the truth, you would’ve never let me go. I wanted to give you reasons to hate me, not to keep me around."

“Is this what you really want me to do? To let you go?"

"No! That’s what I thought I wanted," Doyoung blurted out, panicked, "what I thought would be best for you. But it’s not what I truly want."

“What makes you believe you know better than my own self what’s best for me? You’re an arrogant prick just for that alone," you huffed.

Doyoung opened his mouth to reply, but you lifted your hand in the air, signalling him to stay quiet, "You see, it’s half funny, half ironic of you to think this. Can’t you spot the pattern? Someone who once considered that she, or better said, they, knew what was ‘best’ for you and planned things ahead. Without bothering to ask you, the very person whose life was being discussed, anything. But, of course, what would I, the one who’s worse than your mother, even know about such matters?"

She just ruthlessly checkmated me, she’s livid, Doyoung thought to himself as the impact of your words sank into him like a rain of arrows.

"I never meant any of that. My pain and anger took over," he sighed guiltily.

“The pain and anger that you also hid from me until they made you drown us both. How could I forget?" You flashed an ironic smile, then returned to your stone-cold expression. "I thought you were mature enough to handle your emotions. We’ve been over this a thousand times, and we promised to always talk to each other, especially when it gets hard, so we’d avoid ending up in situations like the one we’re currently in. That’s what grown up, responsible people do. Though, as far as I can tell, that and many other promises meant nothing to you."

"That’s not true. This seemed like the best option at that time," he began, and you glared at him, getting ready to spit fire in his direction. "Wait, wait! Before you verbally dismantle me, hear me out. I’m not saying that this was the right decision, because it certainly wasn’t. I see that all too clearly now. That’s why I’m here. It’s just that the me from back then was in a very dark place. So much so that I couldn’t look beyond the things that clouded my mind."

“Doyoung, spare me, will you? You said that Ten called you. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him probably guilt tripping the shit out of you," you underlined angrily. "I’ve known Ten since we were kids, I’m very much aware of how he functions and what goes through that head of his. I know what he’d do for me. Don’t act like you came here on your own initiative after you’ve had a groundbreaking revelation."

"It wasn't like that," Doyoung stated emphatically. "He didn’t guilt trip me into anything, he was just painfully blunt and called me out on my shit without any reservations, which was what I needed. I didn’t get better after I left, I got worse. Ten was the one who had the guts to do what I couldn’t do myself, and that was slap me back to reality. He pulled me out of that darkness and helped me see the light again. I owe him big time for that, regardless of how things turn out between us."

“Ten is up next after you, he won’t escape having a sit down with me after spilling details that were neither his to share nor your business to hear about. You’ve got that glint of self-hatred in your eyes, I know you like the back of my hand. He told you what happened."

“Leave Ten out of this, he’s not the one to blame. I’m the one at fault for everything," Doyoung pleaded, thus confirming your theory that Ten had overshared.

“I’ll be the judge of that. You’re the last person to be in a position to tell me who I should or shouldn’t leave out of this."

You were terribly upset with Doyoung already, but finding out that Ten had given him details of your suffering that were intimate to you only added fuel to the fire. You couldn’t help feeling somewhat betrayed by him as well.

Sorrow was something that you considered extremely personal. You’ve only ever allowed a handful of people to catch sight of it, and not even those to its full extent. This was mostly due to the fact that you were the kind of person who had a deeply rooted sense of independence and you preferred dealing with your wounds on your own. You didn’t need anyone’s sympathy, and you’d never lean on someone else unless things got really bad.

Therefore, having the details about the manifestation of your pain known by somebody who was, in your eyes, unworthy of such information was beyond outrageous. Doyoung was no exception to this, despite having been your lover. He didn’t deserve it anymore.

"As for you, you made your choice the moment you left without saying a word," you continued. "Do you have any idea how painful and humiliating it was to find out from others that you had vanished into thin air? It didn’t cross your mind to leave me at least a damned note about this. God knows how many other details you skipped telling me because you deemed them irrelevant. After all, not even I was relevant enough for you to let me in or stay."

“Don’t say that," Doyoung instantly retorted, his own posture now straightening, "don’t you ever say that about yourself. You’re the most relevant to me. Even my fucked up decisions, I made them thinking of you first."

"All this relevance of mine that you speak of is unproven, Do," you sighed sadly. "I trust actions, not words. When it came to you, I used to trust both, but I can’t anymore. "

Doyoung felt as if claws had sunk into his heart. His soul used to flutter when you’d call him “Do”, but now it feels like torture. A punch that knocked the air out of his lungs.

Being faced with the imminent consequences of his rash actions made two different forms of despair creep into his insides—the despair of feeling you withdraw from him and the despair of self-blame, not understanding himself nor what the hell had been in his head to leave his soulmate. The person with whom he had the kind of connection that most people never even find and only dream of. It made him want to scream. “What have I done?” Was all that echoed through his mind.

"What can I do to fix this?" Doyoung questioned weakly.

"I don’t know if there’s anything left to fix," you replied pensively. “You've probably heard everything from Ten, so I won't bore you with the details. I went over every single part of our relationship, from the beginning until the end, analysing the heck out of everything in order to figure out what I’d done wrong, what made you leave."

"It wasn’t you, there was nothing wrong with you."

"How considerate of you to clear that up now when I don’t need your confirmation anymore," you snorted. "I repeated that process every single day in my head and died inside a little more each time until I realised it."

“If I could, I would-"

"No, Doyoung. The deed is done and you can’t go back in time for a redo. I was in a dark place too, but I never left you behind. Letting go of you wasn’t an option for me, and I was the one who carried my darkness and yours both," you concluded, feeling your throat tighten.

Doyoung felt his eyes sting, tears threatening to start pouring out, but he held back with all his might, "What do you want to know?"

“Isn’t the answer to that question obvious to you? Everything. That’s the least you can do after what you’ve put me through."

Doyoung nodded as he gathered himself and briefly weighed how to explain things to you. It was maddening to him how something that back then had made so much sense seemed to have no logic now. It made him feel even more guilty and ashamed.

“Everything began shortly after I started receiving record deals from labels. You know already that I was in talks for months with different labels that would come and go, but none of them seemed to fit what I’d been looking for. The contracts they offered would either limit or butcher my creativity and identity as an artist, which I wasn’t willing to give up on for any amount of money. I felt like the high I’d been riding on after I went viral had turned into a cruel illusion. My dream seemed to be over before it even started, considering how fucked up my options were. It was as if all my hard work had become useless, as if-"

“As if your parents had won and were laughing in your face about how right they’d been all along," you interrupted him.

The same parents that had been the cause and background for all the negativity and hurt in Doyoung’s life resembled a curse that he couldn’t escape. A curse that had now inflicted terrible wounds on you, exacerbating your already existing hatred for them.

"Yeah," Doyoung breathed out, trying to control his voice and keep it from breaking. "But then the label from Melbourne reached out and emailed me the contract with all the details of the record deal, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I read it five times until I convinced myself that I was seeing straight. The deal was genuine, not limiting my creativity or identity, and didn’t contain any trap hidden shadily between the lines of some random paragraph by the end."

"But…?""

“But the downside of it was that I would have to move to Australia and give them an answer within a very short period of time. That set me off. It multiplied my tension by a thousand and sent me down the rabbit hole that Ten fished me out of."

"Why? I would’ve been so happy for you and I would’ve supported you to go for it. This was everything you wanted."

Doyoung chuckled sadly.

"This is exactly why I haven’t told you, I was sure that’s how you’d react."

“I don’t understand what you have against me supporting you. Why do you find it so bad?" You said furrowing your brows.

“It wasn’t bad, baby. It’s the fact that you’re too selfless and I couldn’t bear to be so selfish."

“Would you stop talking cryptically and tell me what you mean already?"

"You’d just gotten your dream job after so much disappointment, I couldn’t take that away from you. I couldn’t ask you to give up on your dream and come with me to follow mine. I thought that the most fair option would be to sacrifice my heart and make you hate me, so you’d move on without losing the opportunity of your life because of me."

Your eyes widened in disbelief upon hearing his words, which remained like a spinning echo floating in the air between the two of you. You looked up and your gaze locked with Doyoung’s from across the elevator, his molten honey irises becoming glassy as his welled up tears finally broke loose.

"Well, thank you for ruining me along with yourself," you whispered as your eyes mirrored his and metamorphosed your pain into tears too.

viii. head versus heart

A silent agreement that went on between you and Doyoung was to not call depression by its name. You chose to call it darkness instead, because, one after the other, that was exactly what it was. A black veil that would deprive a person of the light they needed to bloom and evolve, bringing nothing more than frozen tundras of dark blue sadness.

"I just, I’m so sorry," Doyoung cried, tears streaming down his face in tides of pain and guilt. "I wish I could give you a better and more coherent explanation, one that would make more sense, but I can’t. I can’t do that because I don’t have one, not even I understand myself and what was in my mind back then. I don’t even know when or how I started slipping. I only woke up after I’d hit rock bottom, and it was like an ocean of darkness had swallowed me up and trapped me inside its depths."

Though, as you listened to Doyoung’s confession, you wondered whether it had been a wise decision to avoid naming it. If it would’ve been better to face things head on. You chose not to speak directly about the "devil" because you feared that he’d appear, as the saying goes, but even unspoken of, he showed up anyway.

"It didn’t happen gradually, I crashed all at once without even getting the chance to scream or try to grab onto something and hold on," he continued. "When I first felt that disappointment and stress were driving me dangerously close to that edge, I thought I could manage it and control myself. But I-I failed miserably and I ended up hurting good people who really cared about me."

He stopped for a second to cover his mouth with his hand in an attempt to hide the increasing quivers of his lips. The once lively boy whose smile could light up an entire room, was surrounded by a sad glow. One that didn’t match his true aura. He used to shine like the promising warmth and hope of spring, yet now he seemed tainted by the cold touch of winter.

The heaviness of his bottled up emotions had outweighed him, turning his sensible soul against its own self. He resembled an open diary whose pages had been stained by tears, some of them crumpled and others torn by their troubled author. The same author, who’d been so suffocated by the horrors of his past that he came to throw up pieces of himself that he couldn’t withstand anymore.

“And the worst part of it all is that I ended up hurting you, the person who matters most to me and whom I love more than anything in this world," he concluded as he tightly held onto the railing of the elevator like it was his lifeline. The safety that would keep him from falling apart any further.

One of the things you know for certain about Doyoung is the fact that he never stutters. Despite everything he had been through, he would always keep his composure and carry on like whatever he had to do was effortless. He was strong, professional and unfaltering. He was reliable too when it came to the people that meant something to him. He wouldn’t budge, regardless of how difficult it would get, and he’d remain grounded even if he cried with them.

Therefore, seeing him stutter before you said a lot about how broken he truly was. Harshly wiping tears that wouldn’t stop pouring, shoulders caved in and almost shaking from sobs he desperately tried to contain, this was the Kim Doyoung that other people never got to see. The rawest form of him.

Trying to stand your ground and remain unmoved by his tears, despite the fact that they seemed genuine, you asked what you needed to ask, "Are you telling me that you basically tore things apart out of some twisted sense of heroism?"

Your question was harsh and cutting, but you always chose the plain truth over hypocritical pleasantries. They wouldn’t lead anywhere good. Staying anchored in the present and, most importantly, in reality requires having the courage to tackle the uncomfortable too.

Especially the uncomfortable part.

"In a way, yes," he sighed guiltily. "When I entered the self-hatred spiral, my insecurities and pain convinced me that I’d be doing you a favour if I got you rid of me. That I’d be doing the right thing with this. I felt like a burden that would hold you back instead of someone who would help you move further, and you didn’t deserve such a person. You deserve the best, and that seemed like something I could never be."

Growing up with parents that were shallow and unloving left deep scars in Doyoung’s soul. Despising all of the hurt he’d experienced due to his parents’ narrowness, he made a promise to himself to never allow his own persona to resemble them. That he’d strive to be their opposite. Everything that he’d needed from them as his parents and, also, as human beings, he never found in them.

But understanding and overcoming trauma is never as easy in practice as it sounds in theory.

Tracing the roots of a wound and determining its complexity is a vast process. It took Doyoung a lot of time and in-depth analysis of his life until he realised what the issues were, and even so, he couldn’t say that he’d magically become aware of them all. He kept discovering himself more as he advanced and tried his best to deal with everything on the go, because time doesn’t stop in its tracks to wait for anyone to fix themselves.

For some people, certain experiences leave such an impact on them that they spend most of their lives, if not entirely, fighting the side effects of their aftermath. In Doyoung’s case, the biggest and most problematic side effect he had to deal with was his self-hatred. It was a sneaky, nasty little monster that would poison his mind and heart with an unimaginable speed if he wasn’t careful and in tune with his emotions. The same little monster that had crept up on him almost unknowingly and took over his discernment in the mess he’d created within your relationship.

“I couldn’t care less about ’the best’. I cared about you. I wanted you, not somebody else. It’s easier to give up than to push yourself to evolve for the person you love."

"Yeah," he said, nodding, his gaze falling to the ground."I was a coward."

"I," you began, but struggled to find your words as the ache in your chest wouldn’t stop stabbing you, "shouldn’t have to explain you this, Doyoung. This is something that’s supposed to come naturally when you care about someone. To want to be better for them. Truly caring means holding on even tighter when it gets rough, not letting go. Trying even harder and being unmoved due to your loyalty to them."

"Are you trying to tell me that you think I wasn’t loyal to you?" He countered, almost offendedly, furrowing his brows."

“Is that everything you understood from what I’ve just said?" You stared at him in disbelief.

"No, of course not," he subsided.

"You’ve lost your edge. Don’t you think it’s about time to start getting it back? To regain control of your emotions rather than the other way around. Also, ultimate loyalty is proven when it’s put to the test, and, as hard as this might be to hear or swallow for both of us, you faltered when your test came. You left me, Doyoung. Your loyalty has only gone halfway since you caved in, and you know very well that I don’t do half of anything. It’s all or nothing."

"Then I’ll be better."

"Will you? Because, so far, all I’ve heard are apologies without seeing an actual will to do something. You expect me to just hand you my full trust again over some spilled tears and heartbreaking sorries?"

You were going hard, and Doyoung felt that down to his core. You’d stripped him of all his ego and trashed it to show him exactly how useless it was to have it in a relationship. It makes the natural flow of love stagnate and drains it of its vibrant colours. You were aware that stepping on a man’s ego and putting him back in his place was something that few of them would take, because their pride usually came above everything else. But you did it on purpose to test Doyoung and the truthfulness of his intentions.

"No, that would be absurd of me. I don’t expect you to hand me everything on a silver platter. I told you, I’m here to fight for you, and that includes proving to you that you can trust me," he answered, voice growing steadier as he managed to catch his breath.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m neither blind nor unreasonable, I understand what you’ve been through and I know your background. You slipped, it happened. If my forgiveness is what you want, I forgive you, but that doesn’t mean things will magically reverse to the way they were. You almost killed me with this, I can’t take something like that again."

One of the details that you admired most about Doyoung was the solid moral system he had, the backbone that he maintained unwaveringly in every situation that he’d have to deal with. It had been one of the aspects that had brought the two of you closer because you saw the world through the same lenses. Sharing your outlook on life with someone was something that you considered vital for your close relationships, and Doyoung fit your spectrum perfectly. This way, your connection had not only been instant, but it also reached extraordinary depths quite quickly as you understood each other, even unspokenly. And, after all, that was the point, wasn’t it? Not having to spend a lifetime translating your soul and being in harmony.

It was due to this very aspect that you’d been shaken to the core when he left. Nothing made sense. The decisions he made seemed to belong to a completely different person, one that wasn’t your boyfriend. Because the Doyoung you’d come to know so well and be so deeply connected to would’ve never done something like that, which made everything additionally frustrating and confusing, leaving your head filled with tons of unanswered questions that wouldn’t stop piling up.

"I don’t understand how you thought that I could simply move on and be happy without you after everything we had," you confessed as another wave of warm tears spilled onto your cheeks. That morning, all of my worst nightmares turned into reality, I-," you tried saying something, but the tightness that had been building up in your throat exploded and cut off your voice. The suffocating memory of the pain you’ve been through while Doyoung was gone, fast forwarded in your gut, overwhelmed you.

Noticing that you were trembling like your legs were about to give out, Doyoung stepped closer, extending his arms towards you and wanting to support you. Yet you didn’t want him to touch you because you feared that if you let him approach you at that moment, you’d crumble to pieces. So you shook your head and signalled him to stay away. He nodded sadly, backing off enough to give you space, but still close enough in case you needed him.

You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to go on, "I couldn’t breathe, I felt like my lungs were blocked and my heart would give out any minute under the weight of all that pain because y-you were as vital to me as oxygen. How could I live without oxygen? I’ve been dead inside all this time. Nothing seemed to warm or move me anymore. I tried t-to hold on for Ten and for my family, but not a day went by without the thought that it would’ve been better if I had never existed. Why, Doyoung, why?"

All Doyoung wanted at that moment was to hold you in his arms and take all your pain away. He wanted nothing more than to wipe your soul clean of all the hurt he’d inflicted upon it and cherish you as you deserved. Though, all he could do right now was silently cry with you since you wouldn’t let him touch you.

"I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you feel worse than you already do, you have your pain too. Don’t mind me," you said while trying to steady yourself.

She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, I don’t deserve her, he thought as he took in your words.

“No, don’t apologise, please. I understand, and I don’t mind. You need to let it out too."

“Don’t play tough with me, it affects you. It hits you right in the chest and twists your heart. I can feel you," you looked him in the eyes, "like you're an extension of my own self. Don't try to hide because it's pointless."

Doyoung sighed, remembering how you’d always sense each other, when you were happy or when something was wrong. It was one of the unexplainable but beautiful aspects of your bond, as if you were connected to one another in mind, body, and soul.

"Yes, it hurts, but I deserve it. That’s why I accept it wholeheartedly."

"See? It wasn’t that hard to let me in. Allowing me to see that you feel things, that you’re affected too, isn’t something to be ashamed of. It tells me that you care enough about me to let me see your true colours and share who you really are with me. It tells me that you want us to connect and remain connected. Showing that you’re human is an act of strength and courage, not weakness."

As you should’ve done all along. We’ve seen each other at our best and our worst, you thought as you watched Doyoung give you a small smile in response.

You were at a turning point.

You felt as if life was staring you down expectantly, waiting for you to make a decision that would have a significant impact on both of you, regardless of the verdict. It’s easy to make a decision for yourself alone because its outcome would reflect solely on you and perhaps serve as a lesson. One’s path is a constant process of trial and error, but, the moment someone else is involved, you can’t afford the same recklessness. Responsibility, then, becomes the teacher whose reprimanding look signals you to choose your next steps wisely. That is, of course, unless you want to fail the person whom you’ve been entrusted with.

"There’s one more thing that you got wrong."

"What thing?" Doyoung inquired.

"You were right about thinking that I’d come with you to Australia, but the part that you got wrong was my job."

“Your job? What do you mean?""

“Going to the office isn’t a mandatory thing for me to do. What they need from me is my articles, not my presence in the building. I was going there just to get out of the house and also interact with some people while you were in the studio."

"You-, what?" Doyoung deadpanned. "Are you trying to tell me that you could’ve been in Australia with me the entire time?"

You nodded, and his lips parted in shock.

“But of course, you couldn’t have known this if you hadn’t bothered to ask me. I wouldn’t have given up on anything. None of my dreams would’ve been taken away. Yours neither."

"Wait, what about your art and your exhibitions?"

"I can paint anywhere, Doyoung," you deadpanned too. "I could’ve shipped the finished canvases off to Korea and fly out for a day to attend the inauguration, then returned. Or I could’ve simply found a gallery in Melbourne and had the exhibitions there instead."

"I’m the biggest idiot that ever walked the face of the earth," he facepalmed himself.

"I’m glad that you can see my point," you teased lightly. "And yeah, you kind of are."

As much as you wanted to be mad at Doyoung, you couldn’t. Not when you’ve seen so vividly how badly depression can twist someone’s mind until they’re not themselves anymore. Sometimes, mental illness isn’t something to make sense of or to search reasons for, because there might not be any. A coherent justification for a person’s actions might not even exist. The manifestation of trauma doesn’t always make sense, and that’s okay. Life itself oftentimes doesn’t make sense. Some things should simply be taken as they are.

Your head was yelling at you about your principles and standing your ground more firmly, but your heart reminded you how you were withering without Doyoung.

So you chose him over his mistakes because he wasn’t himself when he made them. You knew you’d regret letting him go for the rest of your life and would hate yourself for it if you did. And you couldn’t see life without him, as neither did you even want to live a life where he’s not by your side as it naturally feels right for him to be. As he should be, because he’s meant to be there. Him, not someone else.

There’s no such thing as a perfect person in the sense that they make no mistakes. An individual achieves what is generically called "perfection" the moment he’s made all the mistakes possible but has chosen to rise above them and not repeat them again. True wisdom stems from balance. Doyoung’s parents chastised their son about the expected "right thing" to do for the sake of appearances with pure hypocrisy, unhinged immorality and no principles or limits whatsoever.

In light of that, what makes someone human in such a situation is balance. Because balance accepts that people have highs and lows and acknowledges that they are completely normal. It accepts that we’re followed constantly by our mortality and is prone to being both heavenly and messy without becoming bad due to the latter. That would be a fickle thing to say, considering that we’re all a cumulus of changing moments.

Thus, accepting the passage through highs and lows as part of being human, you’re still faced with situations in which you have to decide if the mistakes of the ones you’ve come to care for are bigger than your love for them.

After mustering the courage to walk over your pain and make the move that would annihilate the tension that’s been brewing between you, you called out his name, "Doyoung?"

"Yes?"

"I missed you," you whispered, and watched bewilderment swirl in his eyes as his face lit up.

ix. trial and error

Doyoung almost couldn’t believe his ears. A part of him thought he must be dreaming, while the other screamed at him to do something instead of just freezing in place and gawking like an idiot.

The shock was stronger, though.

From the way you had been talking up until this moment, he felt like he had already lost the battle. But, he willed himself to keep on fighting despite this, and, for once in a very long time, he had been right about the decision he had made. And that brought a little bit of hope back in his eyes, along with a little bit of trust in himself.

Shaking his head as if he were snapping out of a reverie, Doyoung scanned your face in search of any hint of negativity that would tell him you didn’t fully mean what you had said. But he didn’t find any. There were tears in your eyes, but your words had been genuine. He could almost feel it in the way you looked at him and sustained his gaze. Amidst the brokenness and hurt, there was also longing, accompanied by love. So much love that Doyoung was almost suffocating from bittersweet joy.

Tears filled his eyes even more until his sight got blurry from the crystal droplets that sprung free, flowing like a river.

"I missed you so fucking much," he sighed.

With that, he broke down before you for good, shoulders rising and falling uncontrollably. Doyoung wasn’t even sure why he was crying so badly. There were so many reasons that blended together that now his thoughts had no coherence. The little door to the vault inside his chest swung open widely, releasing a six-month-old hurricane of suppressed emotions. Confusion, sadness, anxiety, fear, longing, love, happiness, and relief spun within him like a vortex.

He turned to the side, embarrassed by his outburst, in an attempt to conceal his face, at least partially. He tried to muffle the sound of his cries with his palm, but to no avail. He leaned into the wall, gasping for air, but respecting your space nonetheless. He didn’t dare approach you. He replayed your confession in his mind on repeat instead. He was afraid that if he allowed himself to do what he felt, he might cross the line and ruin the thin layer of peace that had just settled between the two of you.

Unable to stay put anymore and watch him fall apart, you stepped forward and walked up to him. You wrapped your arms around him from the side and rested your chin on his shoulder.

Doyoung stiffened in your embrace, not expecting you to warm up to him so soon.

"No, don’t hold me," he said in a frail voice, "I d-don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you."

"Shh, my love," you tried to reassure him, not letting go.

He looked at you befuddled, his eyelashes stained with bits of tears that had gone astray, leaving wet trails on his cheeks.

"I-…How can you still love me after everything that I’ve done?" He questioned resembling almost a child-like innocence that made your heart clench at his suffering.

You sighed, thinking of a way to phrase your thoughts until the memory of a song that you’d helped Doyoung write for his album came to you as a response.

"Love me when I least deserve it, ‘cause that’s when I need it the most," you sang, "I promise I’ll never let you go, even when we feel lost."

Doyoung was smiling and crying at the same time, his heart fluttering wildly over the fact that you still remembered the lyrics. He looked at you adoringly as he turned around to face you and engulf you in a proper hug, which you happily accepted.

"I love you so much," he said through sniffles, arms wrapping tightly around your small frame like he could lose you at any given moment if he didn’t. "I’m so sorry for everything."

He had missed the sweet scent of your skin so badly that right now he felt drunk on you.

"I love you so much," you responded, not far from sniffling yourself. "I told you, Do, I already forgave you."

"I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, because what I feel is the complete opposite of that, but I have to ask — why? I feel like I’ve done nothing to be worthy of this."

You leaned back a little so you could look into his eyes and replied, "Because there’s no me without you. Remember?"

Doyoung smiled widely, "How could I ever forget? There’s no me without you."

He rested his forehead against yours, cupping your face with one hand and caressing it with his thumb, wiping away every tear that found its way down your cheek. He was on cloud nine and unable to believe his luck.

"I hope you’re aware that we’ll have to have a full-blown conversation about everything in detail, eventually. It will be uncomfortable as heck, but there’s no way to move past this for good if we don’t," you underlined.

“We’ll talk about everything you want. I’ll do anything to make it up to you and become the person you deserve," he said decidedly. "And I promise I won’t ever let you go again."

"Well, you better not pull off another stunt like that unless you want Ten to actually hunt you down and murder you," you laughed. "Beware, that side of him is no fun and no joke. I’m telling you this for your own sake because he’ll probably be watching you like a hawk from now on. Don’t say I didn’t warn you."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Doyoung retorted dramatically. "I wouldn’t want to face the wrath of the slayer. Even though, I think your dad might kill me before Ten even gets to me."

“He won’t, he doesn’t know. I haven’t told my parents about our break-up."

"What? How so?"

“I couldn’t talk about it, I buried myself in work and shut everyone out mostly, except for Ten who forcefully invaded me and camped himself in my living room. My parents thought I was just going through a stressful period, and they didn’t bug me with any questions. So, don’t worry, they still adore you wholeheartedly."

"I see," he nodded sheepishly.

"I also think that, sometimes, things like what we’ve been through are really personal, so I’d rather we figure it out by ourselves, without external involvement. Unless we’re talking about Ten, he might auto-involve himself in some stuff. He recently discovered his therapist side and kept talking my ear off about how he’d want to try it out and become a professional."

“I do agree with that. What is between us should stay just between us. As for Ten, why am I not surprised? I think he’s been practising on me too."

“Yeah, the last time he talked to me about this, I told him that I don’t think I’m willing to be his first experiment considering what a lunatic he is," you chuckled, coaxing a laugh out of Doyoung as well.

Despite all the pain that you’ve been through in the last six months, you feel at ease now. You knew that the hard part wasn’t even far from being over, but you were okay with that. Your love for Doyoung had given you the strength to forgive him and the will to start over, and that made you feel as if a boulder had been lifted off of your shoulders, allowing you to fly again.

Experiencing such an intense bond with someone can turn out to be quite a double-edged sword, because the same person that can bring heaven on earth for you can also put you through hell. It was a tricky game that put your trust, faith, patience, and feelings to the test every now and then. Time has always had a cyclical nature that would allow things to constantly find either a new beginning, a continuation, or an end. This applies to just about anything, including personal relationships. The outcome could only be determined by your strength to see your lover beyond his flaws and whether you still chose one another over anything and anyone.

True love doesn’t mean living in a constant rainbow haze and free of misunderstandings, because such perfection is rather fictional and unrealistic. It means having seen the worst of each other and still holding hands firmly, putting all pride aside because you cherish your significant other beyond fickle values. Forgiveness, acceptance, and honesty make up the core of devotion, bringing the necessary balance for the two of you to navigate the storm that life itself is.

With your eyes closed and foreheads pressed together, you and Doyoung sat in a comfortable silence with small smiles adorning your faces. You listened carefully to each other’s breathing, the rhythmic sound soothing any lingering hint of unsettledness left in your hearts like an unspoken mantra.

Slowly, you could feel the electricity between you come alive and send little sparks through you. Love has always had this way of healing everything, and that was all that mattered in the end. It brought with it the kind of serenity that would allow both your heart and your mind to slowly forget the bad and let the past become shrouded in an increasingly growing fog until it faded away and ceased haunting you.

You brought a hand up to Doyoung’s face as well, cupping his cheek and gingerly drawing invisible patterns on it with your thumb. Your eyes fell on his lips and traced their shape, which you had already memorised by heart from all the times that you two had kissed, and that made you realise how much you had missed feeling them pressed against yours.

“Doyoung," you said abruptly, taking him a little by surprise.

"Yes, love?"

"Can I-," you breathed out, but you were immediately cut off by Doyoung, who had felt by the tone of your voice what you were about to ask. He wanted it just as much.

"Yes," he replied in a heartbeat.

You closed your eyes and leaned in, enveloping his lips with yours in a soft kiss. It was tender and slow, capturing the whole of his heart-shaped mouth with brewed longing, as if you were renewing their blueprint in your memory. He tasted like mint and alcohol, reminding you of the wild summer nights you had once spent talking about life and planning everything you wanted to do together before you got old. Chasing the ferocious rush of adrenaline and love that raged through both of your bodies and made you feel alive.

Doyoung pulled you closer to him, holding you tightly by the waist with one hand and resting the other on the side of your neck. His heartbeat was thundering against his rib cage but he didn’t care, because all he needed was you and you were finally back in his arms, where you belonged. He could’ve sworn that he was sensing how everything that was broken inside of him was slowly starting to mend as the scattered pieces would find their way back to how they’ve initially been.

Slowly but surely, your kisses became more heated. Doyoung spun you around and pressed you into the wall of the elevator, his figure towering over you almost possessively, but you loved that. The side of him that was territorial and made you feel that you were his and his only.

His fingers enveloped your chin and lifted it up as he briefly bit your lower lip and grazed it with his tongue, making your breath hitch in your throat. You pulled him even closer by the collar of his white dress shirt, tilted your head and deepened the kiss, tongues now embracing and swaying together in a passionate rhythm.

But, before you’d get the chance to dive too much into the kiss, the lights fluttered as the elevator was abruptly set into motion, starting to descend. Doyoung swiftly leaned into the wall for support with one hand while he wrapped his other arm around you to support you and keep you from falling. You exchanged amused looks and broke into a cascade of laughter that filled the space that you’d been trapped in for a while.

"Ten and his timing," Doyoung chuckled, shaking his head.

"Yes, always a blessing," you quipped, a wide smile and flushed cheeks adorning your face.

Shortly after, the elevator reached ground floor and, when the doors opened, a squealing Ten welcomed you and Doyoung with his palms pressed together dramatically over his chest.

"My babies are back!" Ten screeched to which you and Doyoung both deadpanned as you stepped out into the hallway.

Though, that didn’t last for long. Seeing Ten and his rather dazzling outfit made the two of you break into a fit of laughter once more.

It was quite a show-stopping view.

At first, Ten was confused about your reactions, but it didn’t take him long to put two and two together and realise that you were both laughing at him.

"What’s so hilarious, you little bastards?" Ten inquired, furrowing his brows and putting his hands on his hips.

"I think the question here would rather be ’why the hell are you dressed like that?’" You retorted as you moved your index finger up and down in his direction, pointing to his outfit.

Letting out a faux gasp of offence, Ten retorted, "What about it? It’s fabulous, just like this year will be for me."

"Dude, you look like a Thai grandma that broke out of the senior centre to relive her long gone days of glory," Doyoung interjected.

Ten was sporting a bright red silk bathrobe with golden traditional Thai motifs embroidered all over it that sparkled every time he moved, paired with black and golden Versace flip-flops. It was all finished off with dark blue fuzzy socks. Because how could he not insert a completely out-of-place element to top off the shock of his entire outfit?

“Or like the single filthy rich aunt who lives with her fifty cats. Not that you’re too far from that, anyway," you added, trying hard to stifle your giggles and keep a straight face.

"I rescued the two of you from spending the entire night stuck in that elevator and the first thing you do is bully me?!" Ten scoffs, gesturing chaotically between you and Doyoung. "I could’ve been banging a hottie now instead of staying with you, ungrateful brats!"

"Yeah, I highly doubt that considering your current sense of fashion," you smarted. "Unless you get that unfortunate person drunk enough to alter their eyesight."

Doyoung threw his head back and laughed out loud at your comeback, while Ten mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"I’m sorry, but she’s right," Doyoung said when he spotted Ten glaring at him.

"And the bullying continues!" Ten whined, exasperation painted all over his features.

"What did you even do with the party from upstairs?" You asked.

"I sent everyone on their way with the other elevator. It had gotten late enough anyway, and they were starting to turn into destructive little bugs. I was anxious they’d crash my beloved penthouse. Except for Yangyang, he’s sleeping with the cats under a table."

"All so very normal, as usual," Doyoung chuckled.

"Also, I might have told the maintenance guy to keep you in there a little longer. Until your disagreements are resolved. I figured you were done by the time you started sucking each other’s faces off. It was an interesting episode to watch, you guys are better than all my k-dramas," Ten winked and grinned like a Cheshire cat.

You and Doyoung deadpanned in sync, then screamed at Ten in unison, "You did what?!"

Doyoung turned his head to you and growled, "I’ll hold him in place, you beat him up."

"Deal," you said quickly, and you both began moving toward your target.

“Okay, okay, guys, wait! Let’s calm down for a second and look at the bright side of things!" Ten tried to reason with you and Doyoung as he threw his hands up in surrender. "It worked after all, didn’t it? You sorted things out!"

"Oh, you and I surely have some things to sort out after the way you’ve spilled over," you hissed threateningly and smacked Ten in the head.

"Ow!" Ten yelped and rubbed the area where you’ve hit him. "It was for a higher purpose! You can kick my ass, but it still worked!"

"You should’ve found another way, those things weren’t yours to share!"

"Fine, fine, jeez. I'm sorry," Ten mumbled and Doyoung snickered from behind him.

Your head instantly turned in his direction and you glared at him, causing his laugh to die in his throat as he looked back at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

"What are you laughing at, like you’re any better?"

"Um, I-," Doyoung stammered, but didn’t get to finish as he received a smack too. "Ouch! What was that for?!"

"You’re not completely off the hook either, Kim," you spat, still glaring. "Don’t get too comfortable."

"Yes, love," he sighed, "sorry."

"Okay, now that we’ve solved our family issues," Ten cut in, "are you guys coming up with me or are we catching the sunrise here?"

"Oh, hell no, I don’t want to see another elevator today," you replied, shaking your head in disagreement. "I’m going home, these heels are killing me."

“Yeah, same for me. No more elevators for the day," Doyoung added.

“Suit yourselves,” Ten shrugged, walking to the elevator opposite the one you'd been stuck in and pressing the button that opened its doors. "I’ll go fish Yangyang from the floor and put him in a proper bed. I’ll see you guys these days."

You and Doyoung bid Ten goodbye, then exited the building together. You were greeted by the crisp air, typical of an early January morning, that made both of you shiver.

"I’ll call you later?" Doyoung questioned, not even daring to assume that he’d be going anywhere other than back to his old apartment.

"What are you even talking about? Come on, my car’s parked around the corner," you scrunched your brows, looking at him like it was the most obvious thing that he’d be coming home with you.

Doyoung froze for a second as realisation washed over him, lips moulded in a small ’o’ shape, "Sorry, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions or intrude."

“Don't be silly, love," you replied, smiling softly. "When I said you’re not off the hook, I meant that we still have things to discuss, not that you’re cast away."

Doyoung’s eyes lit up as his beautiful signature smile that you’ve fallen in love with years ago bloomed on his face.

"Well, in that case," Doyoung began but halted mid-phrase, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you bridal style to your car.

"Doyoung!" You giggled. "What are you doing?"

"You said those high heels have been killing you, so I’m helping you out," he chuckled.

Moved by his caring gesture, you gently turned his head towards you and pressed a swift kiss on his lips. When you pulled back and looked into his eyes, you were certain that a few of the stars from the sky had fallen and integrated into his twinkling irises. Doyoung had always been and will always be your person and safe haven.

"Thank you," you replied shyly, your own irises glimmering with love. "Let’s go home, baby."

© 2022 late-minhours. all rights reserved.

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