mystictober day 9: theater + hourglass

zen + theater + hourglass

words: 1546 (don’t ask why it ran long…)

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There is an hourglass on your bedside table that you got from the last flea market you went to with your best friend. She was looking for a certain book that her boss sent her to find, and you had poked around and looked at what else they were offering. The owner said that it didn’t work anymore, but you thought it looked cute- especially since the sand was a pinkish red color that seemed to shine gold in the light and its frame had these diamond shapes that made it unique. So despite what the owner said, you still went ahead and bought it.

You figure the owner must have been mistaken, because when you got home that day and placed it in its spot, you saw the sands trickling down to the bottom half of the hourglass- albeit at a rather slow rate than usual. Whether it measured a week or a month or a year, you weren’t exactly sure. But you paid it no mind, simply content to use it as a decoration.

Most days you never spared it a second glance, but over the course of the year, you’d find that a noticeable chunk had gone missing from the top and fallen into the bottom of the hourglass. You weren’t exactly waiting for the sand to run out, but you wondered when it would finally happen.

Hands blindly search around the table, the hourglass shaking a little when you bump into it on your way to shut off the alarm on your phone. Sighing, you sit up and rub your eyes, blinking them open and awake. As your feet pad their way to the kitchen, you try to remember why it is you set an alarm today when you had no work- but your phone ringing all of a sudden again reminds you why.

“Good morning,” the voice on the other end of the line chirps. Your best friend is rarely this cheerful this early, and despite how groggy you feel, you manage to make your voice sound alive.

“Hey, Jae!”

“I wanted to make sure you were awake,” she laughs. “And you are! Will you be ready soon?”

“Mhm! Just let me eat and shower and all that,” you reassure her as you begin to prepare your breakfast.

“Alright, alright…oh! Did you listen to the-” Jaehee begins to ask you excitedly before you cut her off.

“Yes, yes! I’m ready. A hundred percent ready for the show, all thanks to you!”

“Okay,” you can hear the sheepish smile in her voice through the phone. “Sorry, I’m just really excited…”

“You should be! Now, let me finish up and we’ll meet at the theater soon okay?”

You both say your goodbyes and you finish up your business in the kitchen, staring at the sink for a moment after you put away your dishes. With a deep breath, you exhale and shake your head, walking towards your bathroom to prepare for the long day you knew you had ahead of you.

It doesn’t quite sink in that you’re going to have the full experience of this show, stage door and dressing room tours included, all thanks to Jaehee. You didn’t know how to repay her- getting her to accept your share for the tickets was hard enough.

But now you stood beside her underneath the giant marquee, flashing wide grins as Jaehee’s phone snaps a selfie of you two. The fangirl squeals excitedly and quickly uploads it to the messenger accompanied by some of her emojis before she pockets her phone.

Even though Jaehee had showed you the cast recording and you’d watched a few potato-quality videos on MeTube, nothing could have ever prepared you for the live performance that was happening before your eyes. Your friend was right, and you understood exactly why her adoration and support was so strong and unwavering.

Your eyes are glued to Zen the entire time he’s on stage, his voice absolutely captivating you with every note he sings. Each time he moves, it’s a sight so heavenly- the lights and smoke giving you the illusion that he was dancing on a cloud. And he might as well have been, with the way he glided across the floor. By the time the cast took their final bows, you found yourself wiping at a few stray tears that had escaped as you clapped rather loudly, you and Jaehee joining the others who were giving standing ovations as well.

It takes you a minute to collect yourself, sitting and chatting with your best friend as the rest of the people made their way out of the theater. Fortunately for you, Jaehee had already insisted on buying merchandise during the intermission, so there was no need to rush in line. You both made your way to stage door, the fangirl bouncing rather excitedly on her heels beside you. Swallowing, you turn to face her.

“So, Zen…”

“-Was so amazing, right? Did you see how beautiful his hair was? He didn’t even need a wig for this role! It’s actually that nice, and did you notice…”

You chuckle at your friend’s enthusiastic rambling and nod along, blushing a little as you remember all the details about the actor and his performance that Jaehee brings up again. Before you can chime with any of your own comments, though, a smooth, baritone voice interrupts the conversation.

“Aha, I see Jaehee here has already put in a good word,” the actor chuckles as he places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. She bashfully stops mid-speech, turning to face Zen.

“I couldn’t help it,” she shrugs, giving the man a look. “You just did so well!”

To this, you nod, endeared at your friend’s display. You also try to drown out the screaming that has suddenly surrounded you.

“I did my best,” he says humbly before turning to face you. “Now, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Zen.”

He flashes his signature smile and reaches his hand out. You go to shake it, but he gently maneuvers his palm underneath to catch yours. Raising your hand, he presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

Somewhere in your darkened apartment, the final sands in the hourglass trickle down to the bottom of the timekeeper as you manage to tell him your name.

“I’d love to get to know you more and catch up with Jaehee, but I have some things to sign,” he gestures to all the people waiting. Zen speaks again before you can even begin to feel bad about holding up the line.

“Will you guys wait for me over here? I promise I’ll be quick!”

“Of course! It’s no trouble at all, right?” Jaehee answers before you can as she turns to you, waiting for your input.

“No, it’s not! We’ll wait,” you smile, linking your arm with hers.

“Perfect!” is the last thing Zen says, then he uncaps his marker and quickly makes his way down the line.

It looks like he’s shining. You’re not sure whether it’s just the sun hitting his alabaster skin, or stage makeup he hadn’t properly taken off yet, or the way he flashed his pearly whites- but he looked almost golden in his element. Jaehee catches you staring, but who was she to say anything if she was doing the same?

Once he’s out of good earshot, your friend speaks up.

“I think he likes you,” she says as nonchalantly as she could, pretending not to observe your reaction.

“What?”

Zen chooses this perfect moment to spare you a glance, to spare you a smile. Of course Jaehee catches this, too.

“He kissed your hand,” she tells you knowingly. There’s a look on her face you can’t quite read.

“He was probably just being a gentleman,” you quickly jump to his defense, swallowing slowly before smiling back at him.

“He doesn’t really do that to begin with,” she quickly responds. Mentally, Jaehee goes over all the times she’s seen Zen kiss a girl’s hand. Sure, the man was a flirt, but if she didn’t count all the times he did it to a stranger for the sake of formality, well… there was nothing else to count.

Before you can say anything else, Zen jogs back up to you, several gifts in hand. How can he carry all that in one hand?

“Alright, I gotta put these away before continuing. You guys can wait in my dressing room instead, I’d hate for you guys to get cold out here.”

Jaehee is surprisingly silent. She nudges you.

“Ah, that’s alright! Yeah, we can wait there,” you reply, shooting Jaehee a look after he takes the lead.

“After you,” he says, holding the door open.

“Thanks,” you mumble with a blush.

As you pass him by, his scent tickles your nostrils and you think another whiff will make you absolutely intoxicated. Your shoulders brush, and for a moment, you lock eyes- both of your faces falling into soft smiles.

You don’t know what it is, at all. You just met this man. Sure, he was devastatingly beautiful, but there was something else that was there.

The hourglass would never tell its secrets, but you had a feeling you were going to find out anyway.

mystictober day 10: seven x mc + space station

seven x mc + space station

words: 690

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!! this i dedicate to jay, @galaxytastes, my one and only starboy. THANK YOU for bringing dear sev into my life.

You’re on the moon.

This, you know because of the view of Earth before you- an image you had only ever seen on screen was right before your very eyes. Below you were craters of moondust, and you stand to look outside the glass pane that separates you from the moon’s atmosphere.

Fifteen.

There are fifteen little redhead children running around in circles, leaving clouds in their wake. They don’t seem to be wearing any spacesuits, nor you for that matter- a quick glance at your reflection confirming what you had already suspected. You were in your normal clothes.

“Honey?” a familiar voice calls out, reverberating against the steel walls of the vessel you stand in. Whipping your head around to face him, you greet your husband with a smile, beckoning him to join you. And here he was: the king of the redheads himself, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You should stop letting them have that stuff,” you hear yourself say matter-of-factly. “I know that’s what you just did.”

“What? Nonsense, angel! It’s important that they know what the superior soda is before anyone else can change their wee little minds! Even if they have to share one can,” he chuckles proudly, puffing his chest out.

“Sev,” your voice carries that tone reserved for situations like this. “We’re the only ones here. No one can tell them that anything’s better than PhD Pepper… except maybe me,” you giggle, and he shakes his head before wrapping his arms around your waist, carrying you to the other end of your moon-house.

“Oh yes, you…”

Your cries and protests are only met with tickles before he finally sets you down in front of a giant telescope.

“I wanna show you something,” Saeyoung whispers with a wicked grin, eyebrows wiggling in excitement.

“What did you do this time, huh?”

“Look into the telescope, my star.”

And so, you do, but not without giving him a look of suspicion.

You’re met with the sight of your name. Beside his, and now your, surname.

Toggling with the lenses, you zoom the telescope out a little bit to see what your married name had been on: a mountain. On Earth.

Your mouth falls into a gasp. Blindly, you reach over to smack his arm. “No, no you didn’t-”

He adjusts his glasses with a smirk that you can’t see.

“Why yes, yes I did, with the help of my trusty laser. Now everyone will know that I married you at the space station,” his voice goes from pride to fondness, pulling you away from the telescope and into his arms.

“Earth knows I love you. Mars is next,” a hushed whisper from your husband as he leans down to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. You feel yourself sigh against him as he pulls away, squeezing both of your hands.

“Naming all those stars was enough, you know?” you mumble, blushing.

“No way! I told ya, all the planets in the galaxyshould know!” he chuckles and rubs your arms, kissing your forehead.

He feels warmer this time. You feel this forehead kiss even more than the one earlier and-

Your eyes fly open, met with the sight of your boyfriend pulling himself away from your face. He jumps back, glasses askew with a hand clutching at his chest.

You blink at your surroundings, at Saeyoung’s monitors glowing behind him, at the walls of the bunker- the chip crumbs on his side of the bed.

“Woah there angel, you scared me!” he laughs, coming back to cuddle you again.

“I dreamt of you,” you say, your voice a faraway thing while you try to sink back into reality.

“Ofme?”he says overdramatically, his hand returning to its position on his chest. “What did this lucky alien boy do to make it in your dreams, huh?”

Seven ruffles your hair gently and presses a kiss to your shoulder before hooking his chin over it, awaiting your response.

“There were fifteen baby tomatoes, the moon, and a laser.”

“Tell me everything.”

mystictober day 8: jaehee x mc / vacation

jaehee x mc + vacation

words: 1,076

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It may have been a passing comment, but it was one that had stuck to you ever since you attended your first RFA party.

“I must ask Sherlocking to retrieve my lost vacation days,” Jaehee says with a little laugh after welcoming the detective and checking the his name on the guest list. It was said lightly, but you felt the truth in her words, especially after the soft sigh that escapes her before you both move on to the next guest.

So naturally, you burst through the doors of C&R one day, fully clad in a detective outfit- complete with a briefcase and a magnifying glass. The borrowed coat you had on was way too big on you, but it only made you look all the more endearing.

“I found them, I found them!!” You exclaim as you enter Jaehee’s office, and she makes a very confused face at you, before looking back and forth between you and Jumin’s door, motioning for you to lower your voice.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Han is currently on a conference call with our associates from Japan,” she says apologetically, using a finger to lift her glasses back to the bridge of her nose. The assistant motions you to come closer. “What was- what was it that you found?”

Her eyebrows furrow as she blinks twice, taking in your appearance. What were all these stuff you were bringing? What in the world was your reason for this attire?

You erupt in laughter for a moment before you remember yourself, eyes widening while your hand comes up to stifle the laughs. As much as Jaehee adored the sight, the sound- she couldn’t tell you not to be quiet.

“Ifoundthem,” you say in a hush now, as if you’ve unearthed the biggest secret in the world, as if you held the very key to life in your hands. The briefcase is lifted onto Jaehee’s desk by your hands, an air of importance surrounding you. She tries sitting up straighter, higher to get a peek at what’s inside as you open it, but it’s obscured from her view.

You pull out a folder that held travel documents inside, an all expenses paid week-long trip to paradise as handpicked by you and Zen, and financed by none other than mister director, Jumin Han.

The briefcase is shut as you lay the folder on her table and slide it across in an official manner, like in a movie you’ve watched with her just to see Zen’s cameo in it.

“What is all this… ?” she asks quietly, a puzzled expression on her face.

As she opens the folder, you lean in and grin widely.

“Your lost vacation days!”

You can’t help but giggle again, excited for the overworked assistant. With eyes scanning through the details written down, she slowly begins to smile, but then her mouth falls back into a hard line.

“This cannot be possible. Is this one of Seven’s pranks, are you in on it this time?” She asks in disbelief, once again surveying your outfit.

“No no no, I swear-” you try to explain before Jumin himself walks out of his office, steady beats of his Oxfords slowing to a stop as he reaches the two of you.

“Assistant Kang, this is perfectly serious. We discussed this beforehand, everything has been worked out. Is that any way to show your gratitude?”

“Mr. Han- I didn’t- and,” Jaehee begins to fumble, caught off guard.

“It’s alright,” you swoop in and save her, laughing it off and waving your hand in reassurance. “I see why it would seem too good to be true. But it istrue, I asked this guy right here,” you smile as you jut your thumb outwards towards the man in question.

Jumin only nods.

“I- How did you manage this? I’ve been trying to ask for so long…” she responds, still in shock, going through the files in the folder.

“Easy. I have seven cat-sitting days Jumin can redeem whenever he needs them,” you smile proudly, shoulders straightening out as you tug on the collar of your trenchcoat.

The director shares one of his rare smiles too, and gently lays a hand on your shoulder, nodding in approval. He turns to Jaehee and gives her a curt nod as well, before walking towards the elevator without another word.

The assistant finds the tickets and holds them up, staring at her own name printed on them. Like it’s a mirage that’ll disappear. Like it’s a hallucination she’ll snap out of soon.

But she feels the paper in her hands and- oh, why is it so thick?

Her thumb slides forward as her index slides backwards in an attempt, and to her surprise, the second ticket comes into view. Curiously, she places her ticket behind and gasps at what she reads on the second one.

Your name.

“You’re coming with me?” she asks, eyes still glued to the ticket.

“Of course I am!” you say, blushing sheepishly. “What good is a vacation if you spend it alone, am I right?”

Jaehee actually grins this time, finally setting down the documents and looking into your eyes once more. She looks so happy, you think you could almost melt right here, in your entire ensemble and everything. Magnifying glass included.

Nervously, you ramble on.

“I don’t know if you saw it yet but we’ll have time to go to some spots where Zen filmed for his latest movie!! He gave us all of the directions, he even helped me fix our whole trip! And there’s lots of cute coffee shops near where we’re staying, they do all the latte art and-”

You don’t notice that Jaehee’s made her way around her desk already to wrap her arms around you tightly, the way they are now. But you do notice the smile on her face and the way she has her eyes closed, the way she holds you tightly and oh my god, she smells so good-

You’re blushing, but she is too. Sighing happily, you tenderly hold the side of her head close to you as you relish in the warmth of your embrace.

“Thank you,” she murmurs most gratefully against your hair, and you’re so dizzy that you can’t tell if its the ghost of her lips that you feel brushing against your temple or the breeze on this office floor.

You secretly hope it isn’t the latter.

mystictober day 7: favorite cg / matching

saeyoung + favorite cg + matching

words: 525

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!! reader is wearing a dress, but nothing other than that is specified.

also, this isn’t my favorite cg cause i cannot pick one, but it’s definitely one of them <3

You feel yourself go still as his hands wrap around you, as his chin hooks over your shoulder. He has you surrounded you now, and you know well enough that there’s no getting out of this. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide- not in this bunker, not when you’re in the hands of God Seven himself.

The heat of his breath tickles your skin and coaxes bumps to come to its surface. You swallow thickly, and you can hear it in your ears when you do- in fact, you can hear almost everything in your ears, including the hammering of your heartbeat. His hands are large enough to splay over your back as he slowly pulls down the zipper of your dress- and this, this you can hear too, every little click that each pair of teeth from the zipper makes resounds in your ears. It’s this very sound that seals your fate.

You can feel the fabric slipping down your shoulders almost torturously, grazing against your elbows as it falls down your arms.

Maybe it should scare you, the fact that you’re standing almost fully bare in your boyfriend’s arms, but you don’t feel an ounce of fear at all. With hands on his shoulders, thumbs hooked under the collar of his jacket, you rest your head against his as you push his jacket down until it falls to the floor, joining your dress.

As much as Saeyoung wanted to rid himself of the rest of his clothes, this was a game. He had to be patient, had to take a deep breath as he felt the pads of your fingers brush against his muscled abs before you lifted his hoodie off. He cups your cheek and presses his lips against your skin languidly, trailing down until they linger in the crook of your neck.

So that’s how you want to play?

You act as an exact mirror of him, both hands coming up behind his neck to cradle his head, lips leaning in to start kissing right below his jaw, getting lower and lower until you make it to the very same spot he chose to focus on.

Exhaling slowly, the feeling of your warmth makes his little hairs stand on their ends, their own special greeting for you. You can hear it, the way you breathe, the way he breathes, each gentle brush of skin on skin and every little kiss you give each other.

It’s a game.

With an upwards drag of your tongue flat against his neck, his free hand clutches at your shoulder, jaw falling slack to let his teeth graze against your pulse point.

Maybe it’s something beyond your comprehension, something more powerful than the both of you that connects you both together. Maybe it’s all the time you’ve spent together, or maybe it’s simply because you’re the 606 to his 707-

But when you bite down, he does too, teeth sinking into skin, lips latching, sucking; tongues laving down at each other’s fresh bruises, at the matching marks you’ve made for the world to see.

He chuckles darkly against your skin.

This is only the beginning.

mystictober day 5: jumin’s birthday / cat

jumin’s birthday + cat

words: 2917

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! the main idea for this piece was given to me by my very epic friend, @galaxytastes! there is an amazing jumin birthday fic my friend also wrote so please check it out ♡

Jumin had been making weird faces at you all morning.

It’s taken almost everything in you to suppress the urge to laugh.

Admittedly, your fiancé was right- you had been acting suspicious. But hey, who could blame you for being excited?

Jumin knew it was his birthday today. That was for sure. If the chatroom flooded with edits of him and Elizabeth along with greetings from the rest of the RFA weren’t enough to remind him, the tender kisses you had woken him up with did the trick. Ever since he had mentioned in passing that he had forgotten his birthday twice, you’ve silently made it your mission to prevent it from ever happening again.

Starting with today.

To be fair, it wasn’t Jumin’s fault that he was always so busy. Busy is good, he remembers his father telling him. What else is a business, if not busy?

Flash forward to several years later, where the CEO-in-line who had been hiding sleep deprivation and fatigue under the guise of good grooming was ambushed by the entire C&R conglomerate standing in his office. The moment he walked in, his body had flinched against his will in response to the chorused greeting of Happy Birthday, Director Han!

Needless to say, Jaehee Kang was promptly given an explicit order never to let anyone in his office, unless it was his father or V.

Today, he stands in the kitchen, watching you make breakfast. The fact that he’s here past 8 in the morning on a Tuesday is a gift in itself- literally. Once you had told Jaehee about your plan, she took it upon herself to clear his schedule for you.

“Think of it as a gift,” she smiles shyly, shrugging a little. “I’ve never known what to give him, nor have I actually wanted to. Not until now.”

That’s what you had told Jumin as he was waking up- that Jaehee had cleared the day for him. Your routine pleas for him to stay were met with indulgence this morning, the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms for as long as you wanted. The rest of Seoul could go on without you.

“Jumin, dear, is there something wrong with the food?” You ask from across the breakfast table, tilting your head a little to sell the act.

“The food is… perfect,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if it were a prelude to something he wasn’t sure of how to say.

“But what do you have in mind for the rest of the day… ?” Jumin asks, neatly setting his utensils down. You smile at him and reach over, offering your hand which he gently takes in his.

“Have you planned anything? I’ve never had much days off, I’m not exactly sure what one should do…” he admits, staring at your joined hands. It’s not just him wanting to know if you had something up your sleeve, no- he didn’t actually know what it is that he wanted to do today. Jumin had planned on going to work today as usual, but all of a sudden he was freed from that obligation. Touched by his small act of vulnerability, your thumb brushes against his knuckles in reassurance.

“You’re lucky you have me then, right?” The corner of your mouth lifts fondly. To that, a little smile of his comes through- the one you’ve fallen in love with. He finally meets your eyes.

“I’ve always been lucky with you, my love,” he says with a little squeeze of your hand. You feel the squeeze in your heart, too.

His knuckles meet your lips one by one as you lean over to kiss his hand. He always took you by surprise, this beautiful man of yours. You never knew how to react to it.

You put the dishes away and return to sit in his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“So what’s gonna happen now is, you and I will get ready, because Driver Kim will be taking us somewhere in an hour.” You explain, absentmindedly fiddling with the hairs on the back of his neck.

He kisses your cheek and sighs. He hated surprises, and he made sure you were well aware of this. Your behavior almost perfectly lined up with the nature of the texts in the chatroom from everyone today.

“Darling, you wouldn’t happen to be taking me to some big party, would you?”

You only giggle and shake your head, hopping out of his lap and making your way towards the bathroom.

“You’ve gotta trust me on this one, okay?” You call out over your shoulder, hand leaning against the doorframe.

“Now, are you going to shower with me or not?”

After the events of the shower, you now find yourself dressed in comfy clothing, Jumin in the same. It was always unusual to see him in anything but a suit, but never unwelcome. Clad in a dark blue sweater and khaki slacks, the sight of him so cozy brings a warmth to your heart. You can’t help it when you lean up and kiss his cheek before holding out his white tennis shoes.

“Sneakers?” he asks, accepting them and sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on.

“I’m sure you can give up your Oxfords for one day, Jumin,” you chuckle, pulling on your own shoes. They looked exactly like his.

With laced fingers, the two of you walk towards the elevator. As you make it inside, your phone pings with a text from Driver Kim, signalling that he was waiting out front.

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Han,” the driver says in greeting, reaching out with both hands to shake Jumin’s. This makes the celebrant laugh softly, his hand happily being squeezed by Driver Kim, his very favorite employee.

“Thank you, Driver Kim,” he says sincerely at the man, who now holds the car door open. Jumin nods once more before climbing into the vehicle after you, a very thoughtful smile on his face. If there was one thing he always appreciated, it was authenticity.

As Driver Kim starts the car and leads you into the city, Jumin speaks to him.

“Where are we headed?” he tries to ask as nonchalantly as he could, disliking the fact that he was clueless at the moment. But all Driver Kim does is shrug helplessly and flash an apologetic smile at his boss through the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m afraid your fianceé has given me instructions not to reveal our destination.“

He sighs at this, and you only giggle, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t worry, love. We’re almost there,” you offer him a reassuring smile. Before he can make another face, you lean up to kiss his jaw. So Jumin resigns, and instead, settles on combing his fingers through your hair. You secretly wonder if this was a habit he had carried over from showing affection to his cat, but you weren’t complaining. Not at all.

And true enough to your words, within a few minutes, the car slows to a stop somewhere in the Yongsan district. Jumin is visibly confused, unable to guess where exactly you’ve taken him.

“We’ve arrived,” Driver Kim nods curtly at both of you. He goes to escort you out of the vehicle, but you stop him- and you stop Jumin, too, letting yourself out. You smile through the opened door and make a gesture with your hand, giggling.

Jumin feels his eyes grow fond as he looks at you, climbing out of the car. You were so happy. Perhaps… perhaps this was going to be a good surprise.

He doesn’t want to risk ruining your mood by asking if you were at the right place, so he doesn’t. Taking your hand, he chooses to stay silent and follow your lead instead. The exterior of the building didn’t give him any clues as to what was inside, but he spots a few furry felines in one of the windows above, and his suspicion is confirmed the moment you both walk through the doors of the establishment.

Nabiya Cat Shelter, the sign inside reads. He turns to you with a puzzled expression on his face.

“I don’t understand…” he says with furrowed brows. “We already have a cat?”

You only shake your head and approach the employee on duty.

“Hi! Mr. and Mrs. Han, we’re here to view the…” You trail off, not wanting to ruin the surprise but hoping that they understood what you meant. Earlier, you were able to sneak a phone call while Jumin was fixing his hair, so everything should have been in order.

“Ah, yes! Right this way,” they say, leading you and Jumin through the corridors. You smile at him and squeeze his hand in encouragement, gently tugging him along as you walk. Mentally, the man was still stuck replaying the words you said.

“Mr. and Mrs. Han?” his voice is hushed, just for you to hear. You haven’t reached the room yet, but he was already fighting a smile.

“It was easier to explain to them,” you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before you confess. “I like saying it, too.”

His thumb gently brushes against the back of your hand. He couldn’t wait to make you his.

“Here we are!” the employee chirps, bursting the little bubble you were in. “Everything we discussed has been put in place. We hope you find it satisfactory. On behalf of Nabiya, thank you, again.” They say, heartfelt. You smile and shake the employee’s hand, before Jumin does the same- albeit a little unsurely. It isn’t felt in his handshake, no, but you can see it in his face.

When the employee leaves, you turn with your back against the door, obscuring the label from Jumin.

“Okay, so I was figuring out what to give you for your birthday. But then came the question, what do you give a man who can buy anything?” you laugh, and he interrupts your little speech.

“I told you, you didn’t-”

“Ah ah ah!” you tut, holding your palm up in a motion that tells him to stop. “I already did this. I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” you say softly, lovestruck eyes gazing into his.

This is the moment you move away from the door, revealing a sign that says ELIZABETH on it in fancy cursive lettering, a little paw print beside it. To anyone else, it might have looked like any regular paw, but this was Jumin Han- and Jumin Han knew his cat better than anyone else did.

“For your birthday, I made a little donation to this cat shelter in your name…” you begin to explain. The donation was not little by any means, not to this shelter, but you knew that if Jumin himself had made it, he would’ve given way more.

“…and they used the money to build this room and fix it. As you can see, they’ve named the room after our dear Elizabeth the Third,” you gesture to the writing before blindly opening the door behind you, stepping backwards and letting you two inside.

Immediately, Jumin is met with an abundance of cats; a few of them lounging on a cat tree, some sleeping on cat beds in the corner. One lifts its paw and begins to lick it, grooming itself, as if knowing that it should be presentable to the people who just walked into the room.

His previously scrunched brows are now raised in surprised and delight, and now, the smile he’d been fighting had finally made it to his face. The grin only grew wider as he took in his surroundings.

“These are all rescue cats, and here, they get cared for until someone fosters or adopts them!” You say excitedly, closely observing your fiancé’s face.

One of the cats that had been on top of the cat tree jumped down, grabbing your attention. In true catlike fashion, it sauntered over to Jumin curiously, surveying the man with its glowing green eyes. It turns up its nose and blinks at him, as if waiting expectantly. Ever the master of cat language, Jumin crouches down and offers his closed fist, which the black kitten sniffs and rubs its nose against, before proceeding to lick at his knuckles.

“… I think this one likes you,” you sigh happily, bending down with your hands on your knees. He’s still silent, but you don’t mind. This place probably seemed like heaven to him, after all.

Which it was- but not just for the reasons you assumed. To see all these cats in a safe place, knowing it was your doing, your gift, your tribute not only to him but to Elizabeth as well-

He feels like he’s about to burst of love.

Jumin turns to you with a look in his eyes, and with his free hand, he cups your face and carefully pulls you in for a kiss.

“This is absolutely wonderful,” he whispers against your lips before kissing them again. “My love… thank you.”

With his forehead against yours, you take a deep breath, eyes closed as you take it all in.

“Wasn’t just me, you know?” you say knowingly.

“And… Miss Kang?”

“Not just Jaehee either.”

“Tell me,” Jumin sits down and you follow suit, watching him as he lets the cat jump into his lap, his hand now making the same motions that it had been doing to your hair earlier in the car. You chuckle.

“Saeyoung suggested the whole cat thing… but Yoosung helped me find this place, he told me that his friend volunteered here during the weekends. Zen took me here to check up on the progress every now and then while you were out with Driver Kim,” you bite your lip, knowing how he wasn’t partial to the idea of you riding on a motorcycle, but you carry on. “And Jaehee made sure you wouldn’t find out, plus, she’s the reason you’re actually here today.”

There is a strange feeling in Jumin’s chest, one that doesn’t appear very often, but he was familiar enough with it to identify its source. He leans against the wall and looks at you.

“How about… V?”

This is when you reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

“He helped me with the donation. We split it in two,” you explain before remembering to pull up your phone and look for your conversation with the mint-haired man. Standing up, you follow the instructions in his text message, approaching a curtain and wrapping your hands around the neck of an expensive bottle which you hand to Jumin.

Pour this one out with me tonight?

It reads on the note attached above the label, signed by V himself. Jumin feels warm without having consumed the wine yet, but the message on the bottle makes him look to you for a little help.

You scratch the back of your neck.

“Do you want to come over to V’s house later tonight? Everyone will be there… Only if you want to go though! But I probably should have asked you earlier because Saeran and Vanderwood were already getting all the stuff…” you ramble on worriedly, a little disappointed in yourself that you ended up asking later in fear of ruining the surprise.

He didn’t actually think you’d pay this much attention to how he wanted to spend his birthday. He was aware that you knew he would be content, alone with you, but here you were- giving him the most thoughtful gift he’s ever received, going through all the trouble of organizing him a party, but still giving him the choice whether or not he would attend. The donation alone was special enough, but the fact that you had somehow roped everyone into playing a part…

Jumin’s hand on your thigh cuts you out of your spiraling.

“We can go,” he smiles softly, leaning in yet again to kiss you. The cat in his lap purrs, now asleep. It seems to have grown attached to him already.

And so, later tonight,the bottle of wine that Jumin received from V will be emptied to its very last drop, and everyone will get to see how much of a lightweight Yoosung really is. But right now, he’s surrounded by cats in a room that was built in his honor, sitting right next to the person he loves the most- you.

He’s frozen in his place, watching as you beckon the other cats closer to scratch their chins one by one. When you laugh, he almost swears he sees the light glow around you. Like the brightest, rarest white aura was radiating from you.

“I love you,” he breathes, soft and sure and true. Like it’s the one thing in the world that made sense no matter what.

You grin from ear to ear, blushing.

“I love you too, my Jumin. Happy Birthday,” you say solemnly, content as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“Huh, a happy birthday…” he muses, mumbling into your hair as he presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. He wraps an arm around you and holds you tight, realizing that he was actually happy this year- and there was no doubt about it.

The sound of your giggle makes his stomach erupt with butterflies all over again. You nod against him.

“Mhm. A happy, happy birthday to you, my one and only love.”

divider:@firefly-graphics

NOTE: Nabiya Cat Shelter is an actual shelter in Seoul, you can find their Linktree for PayPal donations and adoptions/applications here, and their Instagram is here. If any of you are feeling the Jumin Han spirit and have a few change to spare, consider donating to them!!

mystictober day 3: candy

saeyoung + favourite chat / candy

words: 889

wanna be tagged? dm me/comment!

“Caaaandy~”

Your boyfriend sings as he selects his assortment from the shelves, holding the bags of sweets in his arms and dropping them into the cart you were pushing along.

Saeyoung smirks, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, positioning his lips right at your ear.

“She’s sweet like candy in my veins~”

No one else was in the aisle, and so, no one else was there to see it when he swayed you as he sang- when he kissed your cheek and let it linger. You can’t help the grin that breaks out on your face, blushing and reaching out to pinch his cheek.

“You’re going to eat all this candy alone?” you giggle, shaking your head at the copious amounts of sweets he had chosen. It’s not like the bunker would be part of trick or treat. There was certainly no giving out of candy to children.

Well, except for the overgrown child who was paying for them in the first place.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, angel?” He winks with a ruffle of your hair. Still behind you, he grabs hold of the handles and pushes the cart to the counter with you between his arms, his chin resting on your head. The sleeves of his jacket had draped over your shoulders, surrounding you with his warmth and the distinct smell of a certain soda. Of course he spilled PhD Pepper on his jacket.

When you get to the register, he one-handedly unloads all his treats onto the conveyor, internally laughing at the way people behind you in line were staring at what you were buying. You were used to this, having witnessed strangers survey the contents of your own shopping cart all the time, but the grocery store wasn’t Saeyoung’s natural habitat. And in true Saeyoung nature, he finds a way to make it entertaining.

“Honey, do you think this is enough for the kids?“ he asks, rubbing the side of your arm and holding you close.

In a snap, you’ve gotten on the same page with him, smiling brightly and cooing at the man fondly.

“Of course, dear. There’s enough for seconds and thirds and any more or their teeth fall off!“

The redhead smirks, looking down at you with that proud twinkle in his eyes. All he does in response is kiss the top of your head, reaching over and handing the cashier some money to pay. Everyone’s eyes widen at the thought of children consuming that much candy, and so, the mission is accomplished… but when has your boyfriend ever stopped at the bare minimum?

“Oh! The dance recital, isn’t that today?“ Saeyoung looks at you with faux worry, mirroring the expression of a forgetful dad as he carries the bags for you.

“Yes, darling, it isn’t for another few hours. We have some time to kill before then,“ you purr suggestively, leaning up to run the bridge of your nose along his jaw in front of the entire supermarket. Make him proud and beat him at his own game. That’s the plan.

He chuckles wordlessly and squeezes your side as you walk out. You don’t see the darkened look in his eyes as you head towards his shiny red sports car that looked way out of place in this parking lot. Oblivious, you smile to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat while he swings the bag onto the center armrest. And then he swings himself into the car, too. In the time it takes to push the key into the ignition and turn the car on, you’ve somehow managed to snag some sour tape from his purchases.

The candy is hanging from your mouth when he turns to face you, and he bursts out in laughter at the sight. With a smirk he leans over and bites onto the other end of the tape, wiggling his eyebrows and throwing a flirtatious wink at you.

“C'mon, ya know ya wanna taste some of this sugar too~“ he says, but it’s muffled by the candy in your mouth. You giggle, and together, you create your own version of the Spaghetti Kiss from Lady and the Tramp, your faces getting closer and closer with each bite. The heat rising in your cheeks doesn’t bother you- it’s something you’ve gotten used to when you were around him.

The silence is thick, weighing down on you like a blanket; but it doesn’t suffocate you. His eyes never leave yours, something playful dancing in those golden pools of honey that you know you will be meeting very soon. But time seems to slow, and it’s as if you can’t nibble on the sour tape fast enough. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin now, the telltale sensation that lets you know what’s coming next.

When the very last bit of candy disappears, Saeyoung hooks his fingers under your chin and pulls you in, a little mmmf pressed from your mouth to his as he kisses you deeply, tongue running over the remnants of sugar that coats your lips. You’re not exactly sure what he’s intent on devouring- the candy, or you, but as he pulls away, you don’t miss the glint that shines in his eyes.

He definitely breaks a few speed laws getting back to the bunker.

I made a playlist on Spotify of songs that remind me of Jumin which lead me to writing this fic. I could imagine Jumin going all out with organising a performance of a love song from a playlist they share! I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1984

Jumin sat at his desk with his head in his hands. Trying to juggle work, RFA party preparations, and on top of those, the planning process for his wedding to his fiancée was becoming a little too much. He insisted on helping MC with everything so she wouldn’t have to feel the stress herself, but he didn’t quite realize how much it was going to impact him.

His biggest concern was finding someone to perform at the wedding. This was a surprise he was planning behind MC’s back, which he was trying his hardest to keep on the down-low. Not even his assistant knew about this! It would be a simple task to get Assistant Kang to research some singers on his behalf, but it was that important to him that he had to find someone himself.

His mind raced with thoughts on what to do. He had the perfect idea of execution in his head: It would be done during the reception dinner, just after the speeches are all done, where he would surprise her with a live performance of a love song. A love song that meant a lot to both of them. A song that they would frequently play from their shared playlist. A song that they danced to around the penthouse whilst it played. In his head it was perfect. He just needed to make that dream into a reality. Not only for himself but for his future wife.

A sudden idea came to mind. What would make this even more personal would be to get someone they both know to perform! And Jumin had one person in mind.

Jumin reached for his phone sat next to a pile of documents and opened the messenger. One person was online: Zen. Just the person he was looking for.

And with a tap of his screen, he was gone. In a way, a small weight had been lifted from his heavy shoulders. It hasn’t even been confirmed that Zen would help, but Jumin knew deep down that some part of Zen wouldn’t resist this opportunity.

He’s a close friend to MC and he cares for her. Jumin even envied the friendship they have on the odd occasion, but he knew in his heart no matter how close they were, it was just as friends. And he respected that.

A couple of hours passed before the young heir heard a loud knock on his office door.  He got up from his chair, adjusting his three-piece suit before heading towards the door. He took a deep breath in to prepare himself. A small part of him was nervous about making such a request to Zen.

When he opened the door he was greeted by his assistant, with Zen stood only inches behind her looking a little uncomfortable.

“Mr. Han, I can only presume you asked Zen to come here. May I ask why?” Jaehee asked with a perplexed tone and expression. Jumin’s face was forced to be stoic. He did not want anyone knowing his plan.

“It’s a private matter. I’m sorry but I can only discuss it with him.” Jumin coldly replies. From the corner of his eye, he could see Zen’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow.

“Very well sir. I shall leave you two to talk.” Jaehee bowed and moved aside to let Zen enter the office. She walked away silently to resume her work.

Jumin gestured for Zen to sit on one of the seats positioned in front of his desk. The silver-haired actor cautiously made his way over to a chair, his confusion of the situation growing bigger by the second.

An awkward silence flooded the executive director’s office. The tension between the two young men would refuse to settle as they couldn’t comfortably keep their distance from each other.

Jumin positioned himself in front of his desk, leaning his frame and hands against the dark mahogany. His gaze was focused on the floor in front of him. He bit his lip, trying desperately to figure out how to start a conversation with the other man. His fingers traced the wooden texture of the desk as he focused on what to say. Jumin had never been this frozen when talking to someone. Maybe because he was asking for something related to his beloved fiancée?

“So… Are you going to explain why you wanted to talk to me in private?” Zen restlessly inquired, his tone was somewhat annoyed.

Jumin’s head jolted up to look at Zen’s. His eyes wider than usual, as if he was pulled out from a trance.

“Oh, Right” Jumin cleared his throat. He moved behind his desk to look in a drawer for a small notebook.

“You know, this is just as uncomfortable for me as it is for you!” The actor pointed out. Jumin shot a bitter grin in his direction as he grabbed the book from within the drawer.

“Thank you for that statement,” Jumin mumbled as he returned to stand near the actor again. “Anyway, I need you to promise not to tell anyone about what we’re about to discuss. Even if you decide not to help, you cannotsayanything! Alright?”

“Alright! Just tell me what you need!” Zen crossed his arms over his chest in frustration as he leaned back into the chair.

“I have heard from multiple sources that not only are you a good actor, but you can sing…” Jumin cleared his throat. “I have been thinking for a long time about this and the conclusion my thoughts came to was you.”

Zen’s face scrunched up in confusion. His red eyes narrowed as he continued to listen to what the corporate heir had to say.

“I want to do something special for MC on our wedding day.”

“I’m pretty sure with everything you’ve given her so far would make it special enough. Seriously, dude, you spoil her too much!”

Jumin gritted his teeth at the comment. He felt anger but forced himself to remain calm. This is for MC’s sake. Jumin believed that she deserved the whole world if he was able to give it to her! He did not think he was spoiling his fiancée too much at all. In fact, he felt the opposite. It felt like he wasn’t doing enough for her!

“Not only special but personal!” Jumin jumped back in, catching the other man off guard with his rougher tone. He tried his hardest to hide any negative emotions that were being pulled out from inside him.

Zen was taken aback by the sudden tone. It made him reconsider what the dark-haired man would want to ask him. He felt curious.

“During the reception dinner, would you be willing to perform a song for us? As a special surprise for MC” A faint red tinted Jumin’s cheeks as the thought over his plan again.

“So that’s why you couldn’t talk about it in the messenger…” Zen’s face relaxed as he now understood Jumin’s odd behaviour. “And I take it you feel that this isn’t something to be talked about over the phone? That’s why you asked to meet me in person?”

The businessman nodded. His hand ran across the spine of the notebook before he opened it. He took a pen from the holder on his desk and prepared himself to start writing things down. Notes were already scattered throughout the pages of the book. Many were related to his ideas for the wedding. A variety of different styles of his handwriting made the pages look cluttered and unorganized, which juxtaposed how Jumin was in person. It reflected the thoughts in his mind, however. Showing just how rampant his ideas were when it came to pleasing his fiancée.

“Do you have an idea of what you’d want me to sing? If you want me to I can also play the accompaniment.” Zen asked with a fraction of a smile pulling onto his expression. It was an extremely rare occurrence for Zen to smile around Jumin. It was only because of MC that it happened. He could see how much the man in front of him loved his friend so much.

“I have made a list,” Jumin stated. “It’s only a small one but you can choose whatever one you feel would be most appropriate for you. I trust you’d want to pick one that would fit your singing style the best. All of these songs mean something to us so it’s not a huge deal which one you choose. Let me rewrite the list for you.”

His thumbs fumble around the paper to find a clean page. Referring to his notes, Jumin copied the name of each song down in neat, clear writing. Once he finished, he carefully tore out the page and handed it to Zen. The actor took it and studied the words written. Jumin couldn’t tell what he was thinking. There was something about his expression that worried him.

“I’ll do it.”

Jumin looked at the younger man in disbelief. He couldn’t quite believe what he just heard. Did he just say he’d do it?

The businessman cracked a subtle smile. Something he couldn’t hide. Thoughts of his surprise plan ran wild in his head. The fact that it was going to become a reality made him excited. Imagining his fiancée’s reaction gave him a childlike giddiness that only she could ever make him feel.

“Thank you, Zen. Really! You don’t understand how much I appreciate this” It was odd for Jumin to talk that way to Zen. However, with his beautiful fiancée in mind, he couldn’t help it. It may have made the actor uncomfortable, but it would have made the businessman feel just as bad. But it couldn’t be helped. Jumin was it’s so happy!

Zen forced a smile. He too felt happy but he couldn’t bring himself to think that the dark-haired man could act such a way around him. He wasn’t used to it, nor would he think he would ever get used to it. He would agree that it was a positive change but he couldn’t wrap his head around it still.

“You know I’m doing more for MC than for you right? I still think you two are rushing things but I can see now that you care about her a lot.”

“I know. There’s no need for you to remind me. However, I genuinely appreciate that you’ll help me out. I’m serious.” Jumin’s arms crossed across his chest. He was trying to remain professional when in reality, inside the excitement was becoming unbearable.

The two men wrapped up their meeting and said their farewells. Their exchanges seemed less tense. Jumin closed his office door after returning and leaned on it. His hand ran through his silky hair. A toothy smile bared his face and he chuckled to himself.  

He was eager for his wedding day. He was desperate to know about the details of the wedding she’s hiding from him. However, knowing he had a secret too made it easier to wait. He knew that his bride to be will love his plan as much as he does!

Hi! This is my first post and, rightfully so, it will be a “little” 10 page long “drabble”. It’s pretty self indulgent and non-romantic. I’m a sucker for angst and platonic affection, so buckle up, simps. Thank you so much for reading!

Words: 3033

TW: Alcohol, mention of death. 

CW: Spoilers for the secret endings/Saeyoung’s after end 

Jumin Han has always been a curious person when it came to commoner practices. Whether it be family traditions, silly superstitions, or childlike games; all of it intrigues the man like nothing else. Even as a child, despite his privileged and sheltered upbringing, Jumin still felt the temptation to explore the world of the common folk. And who better to experience the unknown than with his best friend? The two would often find themselves lost in their own world. A world without responsibility. A world without heirs, businessmen or conglomerates. A world where two boys could be just that; boys. 

But, life is not so simple. Summers and winters pass. With time came more responsibilities and adulthood pressures. Long felt the days of childhood; that which there was not much to begin with. Despite the challenges and tribulations life threw at the pair, one tradition remains unshaken by time. Birthdays.

Slender fingers wrap impatiently around his Rolex as Jumin checks the clock. He sighs in annoyance, noticing how quickly the day flew by. On most work days, the director can barely wait to get out the door. While he certainly didn’t dislike his office, he much preferred most anywhere else once the clock ticked past 6 pm. But today was different. Today was October 5th. 

The dark haired man pinches the skin between his eyes and only looks up from his desk upon hearing the familiar clicking of heels up his office hallway. Jaehee knocks gently at the door and peers in from around the corner. The woman has a concerned look in her warm eyes, but Jumin can’t begin to worry about what was the matter. 

“Yes, Assistant Kang. Have you come to bother me more about Saeyoung’s complaints over my lack of celebrations this evening?” Jumin speaks to his assistant, his voice icey cold.

“I understand, Mr. Han. I… did come in here to talk about that, but not because of Saeyoung. It’s just… it’s 7 pm and you’re still here. It’s your birthday, and you say you have plans. I was wondering w-”

“I’m well aware of what today is.” The director hisses as his hands clench together on the wood desk. He sucks in a quick breath and immediately backpedals, offering Jaehee an apologetic look. “Forgive me. I’ve been getting bothered about this day for… weeks now.”

The director sighs and stands from the desk, making no move to hurry himself on gathering his things. 

“No need for apologies, sir. I completely understand. I’m sure you’ve heard enough pushing from the others.” Jaehee dismisses his coldness and grabs his jacket from the stand near the door. She meets him halfway across the room and gives his arm a comforting squeeze as she hands him the coat. 

“I think everyone just wants to share today with you since we truly care. So, if you change your mind, do let us know, please?” The brunette woman smiles sadly at her boss, earning her a weak smile from him in return. His heart warms a bit at her genuine words and he almost wishes to take her up on her offer. But, he made a promise to a friend for this evening. As always, Jumin Han is a man of his word. 

“I will. Thank you, Assistant Kang.”

The ride to the venue is quiet, and most of the time Jumin prefers it this way. His days are loud and chaotic, full of phone calls and stuffy conversations. His backseat oasis behind his trusty Driver Kim is normally a breath of fresh air. But, tonight, it feels suffocating. Both hands rake through his thick hair and he quietly wades in the painful silence. As if on cue, a voice perks up from the driver’s seat.

“Mr. Han. I’ve prepared the supplies for your evening. I assume it will be to your liking?” Driver Kim meets Jumin’s unusually scrambled gaze, and the tightness in the director’s chest loosens just enough to allow him another deep breath. 

“I appreciate you, Driver Kim. I’m sure it looks beautiful.” Jumin nods gratefully to the older man. “Did you happen to retrieve the bottle I’d set aside for this evening?” 

“Of course. It’s wrapped in the basket along with some other things I thought would pair well with the wine. You have exquisite taste as always, Mr. Han.” The man’s eyes crinkle behind his glasses as he clicks his turn signal to pull to a stop. 

“Thank you again… Ah. We’re here already?” Jumin looks out the window, admiring the landscape lit beautifully by the setting sun.

“Right on schedule. The sun will set the mood for a lovely birthday evening.” Driver Kim hums as he fishes something from his coat pocket. He turns in his chair and reaches to the backseat, holding a small box with a ribbon atop of it. “This one isn’t for you, young director. So, don’t go peeking until he gets to see it first.”

Jumin chuckles and nods, gently taking the small box from the other man. The driver moves to let out his employer, but Jumin waves him dismissively.

“We will not be too long. I’m not one to fuss over birthday celebrations.” The director smooths out his suit jacket and pant legs before opening up the car door.

“I know, Mr. Han. Take all the time you need. Tell him I say hello, and happy belated birthday.” Driver Kim keeps his gaze on the horizon ahead of him, wetness stinging the old man’s eyes. Jumin actively ignores the sudden show of emotion and uses his free hand to shut the door. 

Tiny lights sparkle along the trail up through the finely landscaped hill, leading Jumin directly to his destination. Clammy hands hold onto the tiny gift tightly as he continues along the rocky trail. Once he reaches the top, he strays from the path to greet his friend. His chest storms with emotion and dark eyes widen as he counts each step.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

His breath sounds too loud in his ears, and he’s sure his heart is beating much too fast. Suddenly, he wishes to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but anywhere. But, Jumin Han is a man of his word.

Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.

Oxfords continue to pad across the grass and eventually come to a slow stop.

“Ten.” Jumin breathes aloud. “Hello, old friend.”

Jumin’s mouth remains open as he goes to continue greeting the other before he takes a moment to take in his surroundings. A checkered blanket, red and white, is delicately laid out in the plush, green grass. A picnic basket brimming with all sorts of delicacies is centered on the blanket, along with another smaller basket, cushioning two crystal glasses. Candles flicker over petals of flowers, casting a glow to compete with the setting sun.

“It’s like something from a film. This is…” Jumin lets out a breathless laugh as he eases himself onto the blanket. “This is beautiful.”

Jumin wastes no time in exploring the basket prepared for the two. The smile never leaves his lips as he pushes past fine cheeses, chocolates and a beautifully decorated cake. He lets out a little “ah-ha” upon finding the thing both men would enjoy more than anything.

“Now, this is more like it, hm?” Jumin wriggles out the vintage bottle, holding it up for the both of them to admire. “Henschke, Hill of Grace, Shiraz. 1994, if I recall correctly? Australians know their reds.”

With a skillful hand, Jumin uncorks the bottle and pours the red liquid into the fine crystal glasses. The aroma of the wine fills the evening air between them, and for a moment, Jumin feels lighter. The weight of the day melts away in the twilight’s embrace. Perhaps birthdays can just be birthdays. Jumin muses to himself as he wraps his fingers around the stem of the glass. He scoots slowly across the blanket to hand the drink to the other man. Perhaps it is alright for him to enjoy himself this way.

The crystal is set down with great care onto the stone and Jumin uses the wrist of his jacket to smudge away any thumb prints he may have left. His vision blurs as he clinks the glasses together. The sound is familiar, but in a very different way now. Lonely.

The other glass is still. No hand reaches to join him in the toast. No voice returns his greeting. No smile returns his grin. Jumin’s black eyes blink and he swallows back the pain that threatens to lurch from his stomach. He raises his drink between himself and the headstone and tosses back the entire glassful. The wine burns his throat and he is grateful for the pain. 

“Happy belated birthday, V. And, as you would surely remind me. ‘Oh, it’s your birthday. Quit pretending it’s not, Jumin.’” The man’s voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. Please, keep it together. He wills himself to hold on as he continues. “I don’t care much for my birthday. But, I promised you I would make time for my birthday if it meant I could celebrate yours.” 

For the next few minutes, Jumin forces small talk with the stone. He talks of work. He talks of Elizabeth. He reaches desperately into the backs of his mind to talk about every nonsensical thing he could imagine, avoiding the things he wishes to scream out. 

“Ah. I should update you on how the RFA is doing.” Jumin leans back on his elbows, horizontal with his friend’s grave. He looks up at the stars, allowing himself to instead imagine V there next to him; laying on his side as he listens to Jumin in attentive silence. The thought warms his cheeks and his heart.

“Assistant Kang has been especially… gentle since the incident. Even Zen has begun showing me a side to him I never expected. He’s… kind. Yoosung, on the other hand… He has matured in a way I was not expecting. He misses you…” Jumin clears his throat once more before he continues. “Saeyoung and Saeran are doing very well. Both of them speak of you often. The twins and MC live together, all under one roof, as you always wished for. You’d be so proud, V.”

Jumin shakily inhales as his lips tremble around his fourth glass. The tears that well in his eyes finally spill over onto his pale cheeks as he finishes off another drink.

So many things are left unsaid. So many angry, sad and desperate questions of why and how. Jumin sets the glass down and sits up, pushing his hand against his mouth to muffle the sob that escapes him. He should be here, pulling the glass from me, telling me I’ve had enough. He should be here to slug my arm around his shoulder. He should be here. No one but him should be here. Why, V? Why did you leave?

The silence is louder than ever as Jumin attempts to calm himself down with a deep breath, using the back of his sleeve to wipe his cheeks. While the pain still clings to every inch of the man’s body like a bed of nails, Jumin swallows it back to properly finish his evening.

“I almost forgot. Driver Kim wishes for me to give you this belated birthday gift. On my birthday, of all days.” Jumin sniffles with a smile as he fishes out the small box to set down on the memorial stone. He carefully unwraps the brightly colored ribbon and wriggles open the box. “Here, I will open it for you. Driver Kim has excellent taste in gifts. Perhaps it is a matching cufflink to my own. They’re designer, you know. And-” Jumin’s voice catches in his throat as the top of the box pops open. Cushioned inside a bed of white tissue paper is a small photo frame; no bigger than the palm of his hand. In the frame stares back two boys wearing birthday hats in front of a cake. Happy birthday, J & J is written across the cake in cursive writing.

Jumin bites the inside of his cheek as a final tear escapes from him. The boys look like complete strangers. Both so innocent; so unaware of what the future will hold for them. Young Jihyun’s eyes are crinkled in a smile and his toothy grin takes up nearly half his face. Young Jumin smiles just as wide, but his eyes are wide open and looking directly at his friend. Cheeks flushed red, black and teal hair a complete tangled mess. They were happy.

“We’ve changed, but not much. I loved you then, and I love you now.” Jumin whispers to V as he carefully sets down the frame along with all the other flowers and trinkets left scattered around the grave. His hand traces across the name etched into the stone slab and he uses the other hand to finish the wine directly from the bottle.

“‘Happy birthday, Jumin.’” The director whispers into the lips of the bottle as he drains the last drops. 

The car ride home is quiet. Driver Kim helps a drunken Jumin into the car, taking no time at all to clean up the picnic and wine glasses. The shared silence between the two men is comfortable and calm. No words are shared with the driver and the director. Driver Kim simply hands the man a handkerchief and drives him back to his penthouse. 

Jumin’s eyes sting from the tears and his legs stumble as he steps from the car. He quietly thanks his driver who helps him up to the penthouse and fumbles with the keypad to unlock the door. Jumin exhales into the quiet room, letting the darkness consume him. His hand comes to rest on the center of his chest, and he takes a moment to appreciate the lighter feeling in his torso. The pain is less like broken glass now, more like the remnants of a broken mirror. The sharp and painful pieces have been removed, leaving the frame of what once was. It’s obvious something shattered the mirror, and a few bits of glass are left behind. But, the danger of the pain has been cleared away. 

“Shhh. Don’t yell, you’ll scare him. He looks sleepy.” A voice whispers from the kitchen.

“How about you shut up and say surprise like we practiced? We’ve been here for an hour now, my legs hurt from squatting.” Another deeper voice grumbles in reply. 

“Hm?” Jumin drunkenly stumbles further into his seemingly empty penthouse as his tired eyes scan the dark room. 

“Can everyone at least attempt to remain quiet?” Another softer voice sighs.

“Saeyoung, this was a stupid idea. Put his cat down.” A voice exclaims, accompanied by a smack and a familiar yelp. 

“Hey! That’s my job!” A woman giggles and another smack echoes through the penthouse.

“Well, now I feel left out.” A man’s voice speaks, adding on another, more intense smacksound.

“GAH! Okay, okay. Princess, we’ll catch up later. Go see your daddy. He needs a birthday hug.” This voice, he recognizes immediately, and his eyes fly wide open as he reaches for the light switch.

“Saeyoung?! What?!” Jumin shouts as he squints into the bright light. 

“Wah! SURPRISE!” “Hehe! Surprise, Jumin!” Saeyoung and MC screech, dressed to impress, both sporting white cat ears and paws.

“Surprise, Jumin!!  Woo-hoo!” Yoosung pops up from behind the counter, tossing an armful of balloons into the air. 

“Jesus. Well, surprise, trust-fund-kid.” Zen leans from around the sofa, smiling sheepishly at the other man. “Sorry about all this.” The albino laughs and rubs the back of his neck. 

“I was dragged here without my consent. Do not blame me for the home invasion.” Vanderwood growls from next to MC, winning another giggle from the girl and her fiancé.

“Surprise, Jumin Han. I apologize for my brother breaking into your home.” Saeran smiles, shoving his twin away from the white cat as she scuttles to her owner’s side. “Though, I may have helped a little.”

Jumin leans down to wrap Elizabeth in his arms as his mouth hangs open in shock. Each face looks back, expectantly and worried. 

“Is he okay?” Yoosung whines, slowly inching closer to Jumin as his eyes dart from person to person. “Is he having a heart attack?!”

“Yes.” Saeyoung says confidently, his cat paws resting on his hips. MC nods with him, looking to Yoosung with mock concern. 

“No.” Saeran, Vanderwood and Jaehee reply in a harmony, sharing looks of annoyance.

“I know you wanted to be alone after your evening with him but…” Jaehee stood from behind a chair, offering an apologetic smile.

“No.” Jumin interrupts her, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Each member of the RFA continues to stare at the man as he wobbles and before anyone can say a word, the director sets his princess down and lurches forward.

With arms wide open, he embraces his friends. With no reservations, no walls of emotions, no tightly wound strings. He holds his friends and finally inhales a full breath of air as each friend wraps their arms back around him. 

Sure, he’s drunk. Very drunk. Sure, he will regret and deny everything tomorrow morning. But tonight, Jumin will laugh with his friends. He will laugh till he cries, indulge in birthday cake, glare as the redheaded twins crown him with matching cat ears. He will open silly and thoughtful gifts and read cheesy and stupid birthday cards. He will refuse to sing karaoke, but instead watch and clap along as Zen and Saeran have a battle of the bands moment.

Jumin smiles and laughs to himself, feeling an unseen hand wrap around his shoulders. He closes his eyes and pictures V there, smiling along with him. “Thank you for allowing yourself to enjoy today,” he would probably whisper to his friend. “You deserve this.” Jumin allows himself to believe his friend’s memory. This is what he would have wanted.

“Happy birthday, Jumin!!” The RFA cheers together as the song comes to an end, the room lit by smiles and camera flashes. 

And a happy birthday it was, indeed. 

Princess Jumin Han ✨

When There’s A Misunderstanding In The Fanfiction And They’re Ignoring Eachother But If They Would’ve Talked There Wouldn’t Be One

Nothing frustrates me more than misunderstandings tbh

A Golden Date

Mysme Circus Zine - Zen x RedMC 

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Hey, it’s been a while since I posted my work here… I am very proud to say that this fic featured in the amazing @mysmecircuszine . I’m really happy to have been part of this project, along with so many talented writers and artists.

If you haven’t been able to get a copy of the zine to yourself, I hope you enjoy this piece with the lovely Zen and the beautiful red hair MC. :)

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⭐⭐⭐ A Golden Date ⭐⭐⭐

Zen sets a towel around his neck with a smile and a slightly labored breath. A good practice session is always satisfying, even when he practices by himself.

He looks up, making sure he left everything ready and in place, before heading out.

On his way he checks his phone for messages, but there’s nothing. That means he still has time for himself and a frosty cold beer sounds just like the perfect ending of his busy afternoon. He can almost taste it when he ducks under the small, covert, tent’s side door, almost running into a girl.

She jumps out of the way, her green eyes wide open with surprise.

“Oh, hey there! Is everything okay, little lady? Were you looking for someone?”

“No! I mean, yes…”

She feels embarrassed, maybe even a little star-struck - after all, the man standing right in front of her is the circus main star Zen. And he is even more handsome up close.

The girl’s cheeks turn almost as red as her hair, which Zen finds really cute. He follows her eyes as she looks down to the golden ticket she is clutching close to her heart.

“Oh? You’re the raffle winner?”

He gives her a big smile. She nods.

“The lady with short brown hair told me to wait here.”

“Jaehee? Where did she go?”

He looks around for a moment before checking his phone, but once again there is no message or missed call.

“Why would she leave you here? She was supposed to tell me.”

“She got a call and left in a hurry… I think she was mumbling something about c-hair? Sounded urgent.”

“C-hair? Ugh, I bet Jumin, that jerk, is making her babysit that allergenic hazard he’s so fond of… Man! Like she doesn’t have enough on her plate as it is, you know?”

She doesn’t know, but she nods nevertheless, following him, since he started walking mid-sentence. Soon enough, the frown he wears on his face turns into a happy smile.

“ Anyway, congratulations on your win! What’s your name, little cutie?”

She returns his smile with a shyer one of her own. “It’s MC.”

“MC? Haha even your name is cute.”

He stops, turning to her. “So, MC, are you ready to go on a carnival date with the most handsome guy here in the circus?” He ends his question with a wink and laughs happily when she nods and answers excitedly.

“Yes, absolutely!”

“That’s the right answer! Can you just give me a second to freshen up and put something else on? I gotta look my best for our date~!” He gives her a teasing smile.

“Of course! Even though you look handsome no matter what you wear, I’m sure.”

Her words, along with her lovely flushed cheeks, hit straight through his heart, making him feel even more excited to spend some time with her. 

“Woah, you just made my heart jump there, MC! Hahaha you think so? You really have good taste!” He gestures dramatically towards himself. “Alas, this tight outfit may look great on my Greek-like body, but it doesn’t leave much room for storage.” He laughs, showing her the phone he’s holding in his hand. Obviously, the outfits made for both his practices and the show don’t come with hidden pockets. Although that wasn’t such a bad idea… should he present the idea for Silverspoon’s consideration? He would probably just be giving Jaehee more work to do, though. That jerk. 

He shakes his head to get rid of his thoughts - the last thing he needs is to be thinking of Jumin Han when he’s in such better company - and points at a wooden seat, happily situated in front of a pretty little flower bed. 

“MC, you can wait here while I change. Don’t worry, I won’t be long. I’d never leave a cute girl waiting!" 

Zen jogs the short distance to his own personal tent that works as his dressing room. He stays true to his promise and, in the speed of light, washes himself and puts on clean clothes: a cream sweater, jeans, white sneakers and a pink cap.

He smiles at the mirror, happy with his reflection. Even though he barely knows MC, it feels like a real date. He makes a mental note to ask MC for a selfie. Yoosung rolled his eyes when the contest was mentioned, but he’ll be green with envy once he sees how cute the winner is. 

He’s almost out when he remembers the little corsage he got for the event. He grabs it from between the cans of beer in the mini-fridge before jogging out of the tent. Presenting her the corsage with a flourished movement, Zen extends his hand and clears his throat. 

"May I have your hand, my princess?” He can see how her eyes grow in surprise at first, before a little smirk lifts her pretty little lips up. She tries to sound serious, but it’s impossible to miss the laughter in her voice. 

“Shouldn’t we at least have a meal together first?" 

It’s his turn to be confused with her words, although it only takes a second for him to understand their meaning. "Oh, because it almost sounded like a proposal, right? Hahaha woah you’re fast.”

In a theatrical way, he kneels down and opens up his arms. Realizing what he’s doing, MC adopts a dramatic pose herself, which makes it more difficult for Zen to stay in character. It’s like they’re both actors in a theater, playing a strange version of Cinderella.

Keeping his laughter in, he looks at her longingly and changes his voice and tone. 

“M'lady, I have scouted this entire kingdom, looking for the owner of this corsage, for she is the true owner of my heart!”

Over-dramatically, MC presses the back of her hand to her forehead, extending the other one in Zen’s direction. “You have finally found me, my Prince!”

He carefully puts the corsage on her wrist and is about to say another silly made-up line, but her face and pose are too much to take and he just bursts out laughing. She could very well be the worst actress he has ever seen, but definitely also the cutest.

Oh man, he loved to play around like that, pretending he was an actor instead of a circus performer, and to have her responding to his lines was just too perfect, how could he resist?

“There, looks perfect. But you know what? I don’t want to be a prince, I shall be your knight in shining armor instead, so I can protect you from all the danger we may encounter in our way.”

“Why, you expect me to be in danger, my knight?” MC takes the arm he gently gives her, and looks attentively as he leans in, in a conspirative way. 

“Certainly! A beautiful princess such as yourself is always in danger of… falling in love with a handsome and courageous knight.”

Unable to keep the flirtatious smirk in his face, Zen laughs heartily, enjoying the sweet sound of her own laughter.

“See? You need to be careful, MC. All men are wolves, y'know?”

Their arms intertwined, they move to the carnival grounds, where all the rides, food stalls and guests are. There’s music, laughter and the ride’s operators’ cries, enticing the guests with the usual worn-out phrases.

The first ride they try is the Carousel, of course.

“Your carriage awaits, my princess.”

Zen bows, waiting for her to go in first, but she grabs his hand and pulls him along. With big smiles and slightly tainted cheeks, they choose a couple of side-by-side horses. They chat all through the ride - MC is so easy to talk to - and too soon the carousel stops again.

They start looking for the next ride to go, when the sweet aroma coming from the different food stalls fill the air around them. Popcorn, cotton candy, candy apple - MC can’t prevent herself from looking at the tasty treats available, and Zen had to be blind not to notice it.

“How about we get something to eat, MC? Do you like fish shaped bread?”

“Yes, I love it!”

“Yeah? Me too! Haha we have so much in common! Come, I know the best place here to get them.”

Zen guides her around the numerous food stalls, to where his favorite vendor is. The man knows him well, so he gives them the most golden brown and generously filled pieces of fish shaped bread he could possibly make. 

As they walk away Zen whispers. “This vendor is great, but you know, he’s only the second best fish shaped bread vendor I know. The absolute best is close to my old place. I’ll take you there sometime.”

She nods in response and a little smile plays on her lips as she blows on the steaming bread, and only then does he realize he had basically asked her on a second date. Not that he minds. Actually, now that he’s aware of it he’s happy that his mouth works faster than his brain sometimes. He almost wants to kiss himself for such a brilliant idea, but instead he smiles and blows on his own bread. 

They walk in comfortable silence, strolling and watching the other visitors and the different games they’re playing. It would be fun to play one of those games and win MC a stuffed animal, but he’s not very good at shooting things. That’s more of Vanderwood’s idea of fun. Still, he looks around trying to find a good game he could win when his eyes land on the High Striker. He knows he can reach the top, he is strong enough, it doesn’t take much skill and he’s done it before, mostly on a manly dispute with Vanderwood. 

“MC, how awesome would I be if I won a stuffed toy for you?”

“Pretty awesome!”

“Right? Am I the perfect date or what?”

Excited to be able to show off a little, Zen all but jogs his way there. The operator is calling out to the guests walking by, trying to get someone to try the attraction.

“Who are the men out of the boys? Come and test your strength, if you dare.”

He looks at Zen, and even though he knows him well enough, he acts like he’s just another guest. “Are you looking to offer the young lady a pretty prize? Step right up!”

Truth be told, whenever Zen played around, trying to get the puck to go all the way up the tower and ring the bell, it would spike the other customers’ attention and a very nice line would form behind him, to the operator’s contentment. So the man was always happy to see Zen going over.

“MC, choose any prize you like. I’ll win it for you.”

The way the afternoon sun kisses up her long red hair as she looks over the toys makes his heart race a little faster. The view is mesmerizing and  Zen wishes he was as good with a camera as V. MC points at a big white wolf with red eyes that kind of looks like Zen, bringing him out of his daze. He laughs excitedly, and grabs the hammer the man hands him. With no surprise, he strikes the lever with the necessary force to make the bell ring and MC happily receives her prize.

“That was amazing, Zen! You got it the first time without so much as a warm up.”

Zen laughs, but feels bad about deceiving her so he admits it wasn’t his first try. She just shrugs and hugs her toy.

“Well, you do work here, so I thought as much. Doesn’t make it any less impressive, though.”

His heart swells up with both pride and something else entirely different. Could this girl be any more perfect? How lucky was he? Despite it all, he must have done something good in his life for a girl like her to win the raffle. 

Now with a new companion, and a renewed purpose to make this the best date in the history of dates, they continue their search for fun rides to go. 

They try the house of mirrors, where even in strange sizes and shapes Zen would still look handsome. The roller-coaster in which, despite not being that scary, Zen made sure MC could hold his hand for safety. And also the bumper cars, chasing each other as fast as it allowed them to.

Next stop was the ferris-wheel, of course, since no date could be considered complete without a romantic ride on the ferris-wheel. When they arrived, though, the ride was closed and a big ‘Under Maintenance’ sign was hanging in front of the ticket office. Due to a malfunction the ride would only be operational by the next day.

“Man, this is the worst luck! How am I supposed to give you a proper date without a ride on the ferris-wheel?”

The girl squeezes his arm, softly. “Zen, it’s okay! I already had the best date of my life, thanks to you. It was so much more than I had imagined and you even won me a souvenir!" 

She shakes the toy in her hand, giving him another little squeeze with the other, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "You did a perfect job as my knight in shining armor, sir! I will never forget this…" 

Her words have the exact effect they should: Zen got his happy disposition back. He laughs and leans into her. "It was the best date of my life too, because you were in it~. Haha, alright, but you know what? I have a better idea on how to end our date. Cm'on, babe.” He grabs her hand and walks her back to the main circus tent, where they first met. 

“Ta-da! You didn’t really think I’d end the day like that, right? Not this knight.” Through the secret passage, he leads her inside, where the setting sun was giving the empty space a very intimate and romantic vibe.

He shows her how everything works and how he usually practices. With her consent, he takes her up the ladder that leads to the small platform, where the trapeze is conveniently hooked to. They could see everything from up there and even though it could be a little scary, MC looked comfortable enough.

“Babe, do you want to try it?”

She is unsure at first, afraid she won’t be strong enough, but after he explains everything, her curiosity wins.

He unhooks the harness from its spot. “Here, put this on. If you fall it’ll make sure you’ll go slowly onto the safety net down below. But don’t worry, I’ll catch you for sure!" 

There’s usually no safety net during the shows, and definitely no harness, but sometimes, for practice, they were used. 

After leaving everything ready for her, Zen goes to the other platform. He skilfully begins to swing in his trapeze. It’s quite the sight to be seen. He positions himself and gives MC the signal to start. She holds on to her trapeze and jumps from the platform, swinging in the air. Just like Zen explained, she gains momentum with her legs and soon she’s ready for the jump.

"OK MC, when I say 'go’ you let go and extend your arms to me… One… Two… Three… GO!

Obediently, she lets go of the trapeze. It’s all done in a second, but to them it feels like they’re doing it in slow motion. Zen holds out his hands and immediately catches her. She looks up at him, both wearing the biggest smiles ever.

"I did it!!!”

“I told you I’d catch you! And you were great, babe!”

They sway in the air for a moment longer, looking at each other. The mood is romantic, but unfortunately Zen’s nose starts to itch.

Something’s off.

His smile fades and he looks down to the ground, searching for the silhouette he knows all too well. Suddenly, he sees it: a fluffy white thing running fast as lightning from one point of the stage to the other.

That was no rat!

The itch in his nose only intensifies, and he can barely hear MC ask if he is okay before the unstoppable need to sneeze builds up strongly. He tries to hold it in but it’s impossible, so he just lets go of MC’s hands. She falls safely on the safety net and, after letting out a row of sneezes, so does Zen. 

“MC, are you okay?" 

She doesn’t answer, but her soft giggles are all he needs to relax. He grabs the hem of the safety net and rolls out. Immediately, he walks over to MC.

That damn fur ball, walking around wherever it wants, destroying his date…

He extends his hands to her and helps her down, slowly lowering her until her feet touch the ground. Her beautiful green eyes shine brightly, almost lightning up the entire, dimly-lit room. In a matter of seconds his thoughts about Elizabeth the 3rd dissipate, giving way to other, much sweeter ones.

Her hair is a mess, and he carefully brushes it between his fingers. “I’m sorry for letting you fall, babe… but you know, I think I’ve fallen myself…”

The smile she offers him should be illegal, only because it’s almost too beautiful to bear. “How about we do this again tomorrow? A real date this time. After all, we gotta go take a ride on that ferris-wheel.”

They start heading out to the entrance. Soon, the Midnight Show was going to start and the staff would be busy preparing everything. “Can we also eat candy apples tomorrow? Did you know, in some countries they call it the love apple.

“The love apple? I like that! But you must be careful not to fall into a deep sleep after eating it. Or instead of being my Cinderella with the fitting corsage, you’ll turn into Snow White.” 

She giggles and answers in the same singing voice he has been using.

“Well, if that happens you’ll have to give me a true love’s kiss~” Zen chuckles, but shakes his head. “Babe, you shouldn’t say those things to me, I’m a man too you know? I told you already, all men are wolves. You’re lucky I’m trying so hard to be a gentleman, but if you go on telling that stuff, it’ll be hard for me to keep the beas-”

Too caught up in his speech, Zen never realizes as she stops in front of him, grabs the collar of his sweater and pulls him down, just enough for her lips to meet his. His eyes grow as big as dinner plates and his entire body ignites, turning his cheeks ablaze. 

“B-babe!”

“Sorry, I’m no gentleman. Life is too short, if I like someone it’s better to let him know. And I… I really really like you, Zen.”

He’s speechless for a moment, before his surprised expression turns into an exhilarated one. He embraces her close, her small frame fitting perfectly in his arms, and hides his blushing face in her hair. 

“Oh, man… what am I gonna do with you? I can’t win.” He laughs happily. “You know what? I have one last performance before I’m free, it’s the midnight show, what do you say you stay and watch it and then we can spend a little more time together?”

MC looks up, still enclosed in his arms, listening to him. 

“The prize didn’t include the show, but you can stay as my guest… I don’t want to let you go just yet haha. You can watch me and cheer me on, and I can blow you a kiss from the stage and then we can go and gaze at the stars. I know just the perfect place… What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect!”

Hands intertwined, they leave the tent together, to the cool twilight. Both feeling excited for the second part of the date, as well as - maybe - the rest of their lives together.

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That’s it! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have enjoyed it. <3

If you want to read more, here’s my masterlist. And I won’t say no to a cup of ko-fi, if you feel like sharing one. ;)  

Tending to a Wounded Heart

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Word Count:3363

Rating:T

Summary: A look into how MC feels regarding Yoosung’s eye injury in the months following the Mint Eye incident.

Note: This is my piece for @mysme-rbb where I got to collab with the amazing @littleaipom. The idea about MC tending to Yoosung’s wounded eye came from her, and from there, we explore how both MC and Yoosung dealt with his injury in the months following the incident. It was such a pleasure working with her and a fun experience for sure! Be sure to check out her art too! It’s wholesome, heartfelt, and guaranteed to pull at your heartstrings :’))

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Every time MC looked at Yoosung, a lump formed at the back of her throat. She tried to ignore it, tried to tell herself that she was over-thinking again. Yoosung always said that it was no big deal, that he could still see well enough with his good eye. But what if it was a big deal? MC suspected that with how often she spotted him groping blindly for things on his left side, or the way he had to pay extra attention when going down the stairs.

“I’m alright, MC,” he’d always say whenever she voiced her concern. “I got this for protecting you. If that had been a LOLOL raid, this’d be my badge of honor.”

If that had been a LOLOL raid, Yoosung wouldn’t have retained an actual injury. She tried to tell him that, to help him with menial tasks; it was the least she could do to ease his burden. But Yoosung always smiled and waved it off, saying there was no need and he could do it himself. MC’s heart broke a little every time she saw that.

Today was a surprise visit, a concern-in-disguise, as MC told herself that Yoosung needed to consume healthier meals. So that’s what she did, coming up to his apartment carrying a bag filled with freshly-cooked kimchi, grilled mackerel, and hot chicken soup. She wouldn’t say she was the best cook, but her mother had taught her the basics of a healthy meal, and she hoped they suited Yoosung’s palates. It was to her surprise, however, when she spotted him walking out of his apartment building with a big black trash bag in hand, sporting his left side.

Her heart constricted. MC paused midstep, watching him cross the pavement to the garbage dumpster on the side of the building. A limp on his left leg; Yoosung reached the dumpster, lifted the heavy bag, then tossed it inside. He sighed, stretching his back then stretching his arms, rolling his shoulders and neck. He massaged his left thigh, and MC thought she saw a glimmer of pain cross his features. Then he turned around, and for whatever reason, MC stepped back behind the bushes, keeping her eyes on his back as he made his way inside the building.

When Yoosung stumbled on the first step up the stairwell, MC half-moved, then stopped. She’d… probably just be a nuisance, wouldn’t she? Her worry would only stress him more. But to see him so weak and vulnerable… Her fingers twitched. MC bit her lower lip and watched as Yoosung let out a soft curse, one hand gripping the railing hard to keep himself from falling flat on his face. Then he straightened his back and sighed once more, gingerly rolling his left ankle before he slowly, and painstakingly, climbed the stairs, keeping his good eye fixed downward on the steps.

She waited until he was out of sight, then waited another five minutes or so until she was sure he was back at his room. MC strode inside the building and up the stairwell to the third floor. The thought that Yoosung had to make this climb every day, up and down, with only one good eye, while still refusing any form of help, made her teeth grit.

She reached his door, then rang the bell. His voice came from inside, telling her to wait. A moment later, the door opened, and Yoosung stood in the doorway. The bandage covering his left eye was half-worn, and MC made a mental note to change it later. Good thing she came after all. The other eye—the good eye—widened at the sight of her, before it glinted, his face breaking into a bright smile. “MC!” His radiant beam teased an involuntary smile out of her.

“I brought you lunch,” she said as he let her in. “I hope that’s okay.”

That was awesome, he said. He wouldn’t have to go out and buy lunch, and, most of all, he got to save money. The innocent grin made her chuckle.

Yoosung’s studio apartment was on the small side, but big enough for a college student. A short hall that immediately opened up to the living area—a combination of bedroom and kitchen in one place. His bed was positioned at the farthest corner by the window, with his desk, computer set, and bookshelves on the other side of it. Just around the corner of the hall was the small kitchen counter, with the small electric stove, small refrigerator, and cupboards overhead. The small dining table acted as a partition between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment, and that was where MC set her bag down. Yoosung’s eye sparkled when she took box after steaming box from the bag.

“It’s not much, but I hope you’ll like it.“

“Of course I will. You made it.”

A little smile graced her lips. She looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s not lunchtime yet though. Is it okay if I put these here first?”

“Sure. Let me get you something to drink. Is coffee good? I was just going to make some for myself.” He moved to the cupboards before she could say anything, then groped blindly for the coffee bag.

That little twinge of pain again. “Hey,” she said, “let me make the coffee.”

But Yoosung only chuckled, the soft, breathy chuckle that, in another occasion, would have sent her heart fluttering. “You’re the guest. I can’t let you do that.”

But you’re hurt, MC wanted to say. You’re hurt, and I’m your girlfriend. Please let me do something to help, even if it’s just making you coffee.

He found the grounds next to the teabags, then told her to sit as he went to the coffee maker. She would, but there was an unease in her heart that refused to quiet down. So she kept watch, with one eye at least, as Yoosung poured water into the machine and added coffee grounds above the filter. At the touch of a button, the machine whirred and shook, and coffee began dripping into the pot beneath it. Then, as though noticing her gaze, he looked over his shoulder and met her eyes. Her heart leaped at the flash of his disarming smile.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was being paranoid. Only having one good eye didn’t mean Yoosung couldn’t do menial tasks like brewing coffee, or climbing down the stairs. MC reassured herself that everything was alright, forced herself to take her eyes off Yoosung’s back and resumed taking out the boxes. She was setting her lunch bag down on the floor when trouble occurred in a sharp hiss.

Something crashed. MC whipped her head up and saw Yoosung retracting his left hand then sucking it between his lips. Broken glass scattered over the countertop. What remained of the coffee pot now lay amongst a puddle of freshly-brewed black coffee, splashed across the counter and dripping onto the floor.

In the blink of an eye, MC had reached Yoosung’s side. She grabbed his hand, and he jumped, going tense when her grip turned hard.

“MC…” he tried to say. His hand was burned red, blisters already forming on the back of it. No cuts, thank God. Yoosung attempted to pull away but MC’s hold was firm. “It’s just a little burn,” he said again, even as his fingers twitched, hand strained under the pain.

“Water.”

MC shut off his protests. She brought him to the sink, then turned the tap water on over his burned hand. Yoosung hissed and winced, but he’d stopped struggling, the cool water slowly easing away the pain and the heat. Silence stretched between them, thick and palpable.

“I told you I’d make the coffee.”

Her voice was barely loud enough for him to hear, but he’d heard, and he called her name, the gentleness almost enough to draw her gaze to him, to let herself be lulled by that easy grin again. MC’s lips wavered. She bit her tongue and gritted her teeth, forcing back the tears threatening to spill.

No more.

“MC?” He bent over, trying to catch her eyes under her bangs.

“What am I to you?” Her voice was uncharacteristically cold. He stopped. “I’m your girlfriend. Don’t I mean anything to you?”

“What are you—?”

She tightened her grip. Yoosung flinched and almost backed up, but her hold rooted him to the spot. MC whipped her head at him, eyes flashing with anger, hurt, frustration, guilt.

“I’m your girlfriend!” So much vehemence. So much force. As if that single sentence was the reason everything happened. “But you wouldn’t—you’re pushing me away! Keeping me in the dark; acting tough when you’re clearly in pain! Don’t you know how that makes me feel?” Her breath hitched. Her sight blurred.“You hurt your eye because of me!”

The dam broke. Angry tears burst free. She glared through them, glared until his one bright violet eye widened. In surprise? In realization? She didn’t know. MC swallowed past the lump in her throat as tears after tears streamed down her face.

If only Yoosung hadn’t gone with Seven that time…

When Seven had gotten the bomb situation at Rika’s apartment under control, she’d thought the worst had past. But then Jaehee had received suspicious emails and someone had begun stalking Zen—though, given how popular the actor was, that shouldn’t have raised alarms. But after the bomb, they’d all been paranoid, prompting Seven to investigate the emails’ source. Everyone, including Yoosung, had been under the impression that those developments had been connected, and that, in turn, had led to the thought that MC’s life was still in danger. So when Seven had finally found leads to a place called Mint Eye, Yoosung had offered to come with him.

She should’ve felt something was amiss; should’ve stopped him from going when he’d called to let her know. But MC knew, even as the thought kept haunting her mind for the months following it, that Yoosung would have gone with Seven whether or not her life had been at stake. That was just the person he was. He cared about his friends more than his life. And if Yoosung hadn’t been there, Seven might not have escaped the place unscathed. MC knew he would have blamed himself for that.

Her hold loosened. MC hung her head, stepping back. “It’s my fault.” Her voice was quiet, broken, shaking. “And you’re not giving me any chances to apologize.”

Silence fell. She moved away to fetch the first-aid kit from the bathroom. When she returned, Yoosung was still at the kitchen sink, burned hand held still beneath the pouring water.

She called him, and he jumped, as though coming out of a trance. She nodded toward the bed, lifting the first-aid kit box to emphasize her intention. He fumbled then, turning the tap water off and reaching for a rag to… wipe the messy counter maybe. But MC called again, and he discarded the rag and rounded the dining table where his steaming lunch still waited. MC dragged the desk chair to the bed and sat as Yoosung settled in front of her, jittery, tense, nervous. She set the box down on the low-lying table next to her and opened it.

The tap water should have cooled his hand, but the blisters looked nasty. She searched for burn ointments in the box, found it next to the bandages, then applied it to Yoosung’s hand, gently, carefully. Yoosung hissed, biting his lower lip, and still he acted like the tough guy he was not. So MC pressed a little harder on his tender skin. He gasped. “MC!” His eye flashed, but his indignation quickly died when he remembered her earlier outburst. Silence fell again.

“I’m changing the bandage.”

She reached up and around his head, finding the edge then unwinding the dirty gauze. She felt his gaze follow her, felt it waver and hesitate; saw, from the corner of her eyes, his mouth opening at the beginning of something. But he closed it before anything came out. Yoosung averted his gaze, fidgeting under her touch.

“If you hate the idea of me helping you so much, the least you could’ve done is take care of your eye properly. What if it gets infected?” MC scoffed, soft, under her breath. “And you call yourself a vet student.”

He mumbled something that sounded like "I don’t hate it,” but it was too quiet, and he made no effort to say it louder, so MC let him be. As the last of the bandage came off, a half-healed jagged scar greeted MC’s eyes, stretching from his eyebrow to just above his cheek bone. Short enough to think that he had gotten away before anything serious happened, but the hacker had to have some skills with the knife, because even with the short gash, he had inflicted permanent damage on Yoosung’s eye.

The doctor had done a marvelous job stitching everything together; MC could imagine it wouldn’t even leave a scar once everything healed. But now it was red and looking tender. When was the last time Yoosung changed the bandage? He flinched when MC applied the disinfectant and antibiotics ointment, flinched again when she wrapped the eye with a fresh gauze then held it in place. He kept his good eye down throughout the whole process, his fingers twitching before he clasped them together.

It wasn’t until MC closed the first-aid kit and made to throw the used bandage that Yoosung caught her arm. “MC,” he called, hesitant. She glanced at him, at the way he hung his head, or the firm yet lax hold he had on her arm. She could pull away, but she settled back down. He fumbled with his words then, stammering as he tried to find the right thing to say, and MC stayed and waited, because he was holding her hand and she wanted to give him this chance.

“It’s not your fault,” was the first thing he said. The muscles along her jaws twitched. “No—I—I mean—um—” He pressed his lips, eyes darting away as he drew back into himself, looking so small that MC almost felt sorry. Or maybe she did feel sorry. Despite the pain it’d caused her, she knew he’d never meant any harm. The thought made her anger subside. The tension left her in a quiet sigh.

“Is it so hard to ask for help?” she asked. MC looked down at the hand on her wrist. She slipped out of his grasp, then turned his right hand palm-up, holding it, cradling it. He was so precious to her. Why couldn’t he see that? Why couldn’t he realize that him hurting also caused her pain? That, no matter what he said, she had a role in getting him blind.

Permanently damaged. The first time she heard that, when Seven broke down in front of them, she didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Everything had gone muted. The lights had gone dim.

Her fault.

It had been like a chant, or a curse. When MC saw him entering the party with a bandage covering one eye, she had forgotten how to breathe. Even though he’d said that it was no big deal, that everything was over and done with, that she was safe and that was all that mattered.

“What if you got hurt even more? Broke your leg or cut your hand—” she flicked an eye to his left hand, “—burned your hand. Is one eye not enough? Would you wait until you lose a limb before you accept people’s help?”

Would you still say it was nothing even then?

MC choked. Her chest felt tight, suffocating. Why couldn’t he see that?

On her lap, Yoosung had enveloped her hand in his. She noticed his burned finger too late, too close to her face. He wiped her tears, the touch featherlight, gentle, careful.

“I never meant to make you cry.” It was a soft murmur, remorse flickering across his eye. “I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was protecting you. That I needed to be strong, to act like everything is alright, so you wouldn’t feel guilty.” His jaws clenched, Yoosung shuddered in a quiet breath.

When he said nothing more, MC swallowed her sigh. “Did you know that by refusing help, when it is clear that you need one, you only put the other person in a difficult position?” she asked. “I was in a difficult position. I’m your girlfriend. I know we met through unusual circumstances, and we still barely know each other, but… the way you pushed me away…” Her hold on his hand tightened. “It felt like you didn’t need me, that you were saying this was my fault.”

“That’s not what I intended—”

“But that’s how I perceived it.”

They stared at each other, mouths pursed as they fought to contain their confusion and frustration. MC was the first to break eye contact, dropping her gaze to their joined hands. She brushed the back of his hand with her thumb.

The clock ticked, the seconds dragging long and slow until MC wondered how much time had passed, though in reality, one minute had barely gone by. In front of her, Yoosung sat still, stoic as a statue. She felt his gaze but refused to meet it. When at last he spoke, his voice was contrite:

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” He returned the strength of her hold, prompting her to look up. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.” He shifted his gaze downward, an apologetic crease to his face. “I guess… I don’t know, I guess I didn’t want to appear weak in front of you. Like you said, we’ve only just known each other, and I didn't… I didn’t want to look so pathetic. Losing an eye—after all that bravado I had when I asked you to be my girlfriend.” He gave a self-deprecating scoff. “I was upset, to say the least. Distressed. Angry. But the thought that I did it for you, that I lost an eye for someone I love… it made it worthwhile, bearable. So I thought that I shouldn’t mope or whine or complain, because this is my badge of honor, and I should wear it proudly.”

The clock ticked again. Yoosung didn’t lift his eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with whining,” MC said. “In fact, you should whine. You lost an eye, for God’s sake! It’s only natural that you’d be distressed. But for you to have to deal with all of that yourself… That’s not what I want. That’s not what any of us want. The others—they’ve been worried about you too. You’ve been too cheerful. You act like nothing is wrong when something certainly is. And I understand wanting to appear strong in front of people, I do, but we’re your friends! I’m your girlfriend. Shouldn’t you trust us to help you figure all this out?”

Yoosung pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry.”

She tugged at his hand. “Don’t do that again!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Her throat closed up again. More tears welled in her eyes. Before MC realized what she was doing, she had pulled Yoosung into her arms, crushing him in a tight embrace as sobs overtook her. It was a moment before his arms snaked around her, slowly encompassing her entire being. He whispered “I’m sorry” over and over to her ear. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

When they finally broke free, both of them smiled. She stood up then, reaching for him with one hand winding around and resting on the back of his head. Her lips landed over the softness of his bangs in a gentle kiss, and Yoosung broke into a contented smile.

“Thanks, MC.”

MC pulled away and tilted her head to the side. “For what?”

With the aches of their argument behind them, he reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers in hers. He met her gaze, his eye crinkling as his smile grew into a brilliant beam.

“For being here for me.”

~ END ~