𝙆𝘼𝙉𝙂 𝘿𝘼𝙀-𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂 / 𝘿-𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙀
𝙎𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙤 / 𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 : 𝘐𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘺, 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘱𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤, 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺. 𝘏𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴.
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘕𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘋𝘢𝘦-𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵<3
𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲; HIIII I'M FINALLY BACK BAES!! I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE FOR SO LONG💋
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: NONEEE
𝗣𝗹𝗼𝘁/𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: How BigBang members would react to their S/O on stage with them as also being part of YG entertainment.
Park Bo Gum: “I’m done listening to you. Let me do it.”
You were sitting on a chair. Arms crossed. In silence. Watching your husband.
You loved him to the moon and back, but sometimes he was just too annoying. Overprotective, he would call it although he did not want to admit it at first. Like you weren’t allowed to do anything when being six months pregnant, except for laying down on the couch and eating. He bought you anything you asked for, though.
“This screw should fit in here,” Bo Gum groaned, using all his powers on the screwdriver in his hand. He never thought that making a baby cot would be that difficult.
“Yeah you said that before, dear.” With months passing by, your patience began to decrease. You couldn’t wait to meet the little life you and Bo Gum created together, but nature took too long to your liking. And let’s be honest: a not-so-handy husband wasn’t really much of a help when it came to arranging the baby room.
“Maybe I should drill another hole.” Bo Gum inspected the half-done crib once more. “Or should I look for another screw? One that fits.” He mumbled more to himself than to you, pushing you over your limits.
“Oh, screw it! I’m done listening to you.” You cried out, standing up from the chair. “Let me do it.” You kneeled beside your husband and grabbed the screwdriver before Bo Gum could even reply.
“But…” Bo Gum tried to protest.
“I’m not carrying anything heavy or overstretching myself.” You shut him up. “So, watch and learn, appa.”
staring at the sun series
staring at the sun ✦ phone call ✦ payback ✦ valentine ✦ bae bae
745 series
CRΣΣKS series
nothing else matters series
nothing else matters ✦ coming soon! ✦ coming soon!
one shots
stellar ✦ sharp dressed man ✦ girl i know (ft. kwon jiyong) ✦ up all night
risk series
one shots
power hungry animals ✦ butterfly ✦ no hands ✦ what’s your fantasy? ✦ duality
pairing: choi seunghyun x f!reader
warnings: au, mentions of sex, angst, yearning, fluff, smoking
note: i didn't intend to write another fic like this but guess who got in their feelings again? i just had some stuff to work through, sorry gang.
You are thankful for the record player, softly emitting the mellow sounds of an unmarked indie record you found at a secondhand store. Without it, the room could swallow you whole between the silence and the chipped paint. You sit with your back against the wall, staring at the undecorated room wondering why you never bought a bed frame — add it to the list.
⋆˚࿔ BIGBANG APRIL CHALLENGE - APRIL 5TH ⋆˚࿔
☆ prompt: Needing a place to stay for the night. ☆
pairing: choi seunghyun x f!reader
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, dirty talk, sneaking around, slight exhibitionism, seunghyun is in all of his feelings, brat tamer!seunghyun.
note: happy april 5th! this is the first time i've done one of these writing challenges, so thanks to @wcnderlnds and @ldydeath for allowing me to participate. it was a lot of fun writing this! i hope you all enjoy. this is also longer than it should be, i'm sorry. thanks for reading, as always.
When Youngbae calls you at 9pm on a Tuesday to ask you if the whole group can spend the night in your one bedroom apartment, your first thought is absolutely not. Your apartment is cramped, far too small to fit four more people – you don’t even have a sofa, but a small loveseat instead. But as you think more about it, listening to the borderline begging from Youngbae as he tells you about a water leak at the hotel they were staying at in the city, you relent.
Warning: Whole Lotta Fluff. Mention of Cigarettes. Mild Suggestive Themes.
Pairing: Established Relationship with Seunghyun x F!Reader.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"Did you know that when the forecast says a percentage next to the little rain symbol it means that is the amount of area to be covered, and not what the actual chance of rain is?"
A small frown formed across your lips. Your hands held onto the blanket that was draped across the lower half of your body, bringing the cotton fabric closer to your face, nodding your head slowly as your eyes pierced the back of the man in front of you, standing on his balcony.
"So does that mean we are getting rain or not?" you did not mean to sound so... submissive, but the idea of a possible large storm rolling through sent chills down your spine.
The man standing on the balcony shifted at the way your voice sounded; the way he could feel the fear in your voice. He needed to protect you. You needed him.
Seunghyun was never the type of person that got off on the idea of someone needing him. To be honest usually it was the other way around and he was very open about that. After everything he had had been through, it was hard to find connections with people that he felt could really benefit him and his own mental health, but that all changed when he met you. You were submissive, and for once in his life, Seunghyun loved taking care of someone.
The clouds were already starting to darken when Seunghyun brought his cigarette back to his lips, hollowing his cheeks just right so the smoke could sit in his lungs for a moment. He could feel the pressure change as a small gust tickled his back. The ripples on the river from the view of his balcony were the third indictater a storm was indeed coming through.
His eyes traveled upward to the sky, squinting almost, like if he squinted hard enough he would be able to tell the exact moment the rain would start. Before he could think too much about it, a single rain drop hit his cheek, indicating sooner than later. Finishing his cigarette, he crushed the bud on a nearby ash tray. The way he moved next was a true nod to back when he would dance on stage, turning on his heel so quick you could almost hear his shoes moving.
Seunghyun still had his back to you, but he was closer now. You watched as his arms slid the glass doors shut one by one as the room you were in slowly became darker in sync with the sky above, only making you hold the blanket tighter.
"Please hurry..."
The words came out quiet, breathy, like you were trying not to sound like a burden. But you could never be a burden. Not to him anyway. The way you spoke would feel like another gust of wind to the back as Seunghyun finished closing up the doors to his balcony. Slowly, he turned to face you, still keeping his distance.
You were wearing one of his baggy shirts, one of the shirts he would not dare wear out in public because he always loved to cover up, and a pair of loose shorts that had little Sanrio characters all over; your favorite. The blanket was up to your chin, and by the look on your face and your eyes looking out the glass doors, he knew you knew what was to come.
When he took the first step toward you was when the rain started; abrupt, loud, and falling hard.
It was not the sound of the rain that scared you, or even the way the rain danced against the glass, it was the wind and thunder that was to follow like an unwanted dinner guest you cannot turn away.
Seunghyun was careful in his steps. His shoes now removed and left by one of the doors to his balcony as he walked strutted toward you. Your eyes were slightly wide at how hard the rain was coming down now. It looked, and sounded like, it could almost pierce the glass; the way Seunghyun's apartment was structured it made you feel like you were in a glass snow globe where everyone could see you but you could not see them.
Just as quick as you found yourself absorbed in the idea of the rain hitting the balcony's glass, you were met with two very warm arms wrapping around you and Seunghyun's nose touching the base of your neck. The way he was sitting so goddamn close you could feel the way his heart was beating, yours slowly mimicking his as a low giggle escaped your throat when his lips began to plant delicate kisses where he knew got to you the best; not even trying to be anything sexual, but just to get your mind off the storm happening around you two.
"Seunghyun! You are ticking me..." whenever the comment dropped your lips, it must have sounded more like an open invitation to keep going, before you had time to continue to protest, the soft kisses were slowly replaced with baby nibbles. You called them baby nibbles because the bites were just hard enough to make you know they were there but ever enough to actually leave a mark unless he wanted to.
The rain began to roar, causing you to jump slightly, making the dark haired man who was nibbling at your neck to jump back as well, scared that he was the one who did something wrong.
Seunghyun leaned up from his original position, his arms still wrapped tightly around you as his eyes flickered to the rain swaying against the glass of his balcony. A murmured chuckle escaped his own vocal cords as his eyes slowly made their way back to you, gently rubbing up and down your arms with his hands as he spoke quietly.
"It'll be alright baby. I've got you. Do you want me to make you something before the power potentially goes out?"
Your eyes met his before shaking your head quickly.
"No. I do not want you to leave,"
He nodded, and you two sat in silence, the only noise that filled the apartment was the sound from outside, the wind whistling, and the rain pounding against the balcony glass. Eventually, you would attempt to get more comfortable, gently moving your hands out from the blanket and gripping onto your boyfriend's shirt, looking at him with your big eyes; Seunghyun had always told you how pretty they were, like a deer.
"Can we... Snuggle?"
The two of you moved on the couch with such ease, a foreign dance that you two knew every step to so you both could get comfortable. Seunghyun was lying on his back, pillows against his spine to keep him level as you sprawled out across him from the front, the bottom of your own spine dangerously close to him and your back against his chest, his arms wrapped firmly around you both as the blanket spread evenly across your bodies.
"I've never told you how much I love you. Before I met you, I did not feel like I was capable of taking care of someone, and nor did I want to. I was selfish. I also had a lot to work on for myself, but I did not want the potential burden of another person... but when I met you, all I wanted was to take care of you."
You shivered. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you moved your body around, purposely rubbing against him, refusing to allow the satisfaction of him knowning a single tear rolled down your cheek. In response, you felt Seunghyun's hips push against yours, a low groan escaping his throat.
"Jesus..."
Before long, your body moved around so you were now facing your boyfriend, your hips against his as you locked onto his eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you began to sit straddle his lap, the blanket loosely falling to the floor beneath you both. Your eyes began to blink rapidly, trying to portray your innocence.
"You take care of me in more ways than you know sweet boy," the rain continued to rattle against the glass on the balcony, your eyes slowly shifting from fluttering to look down at your boyfriend, who was now gripping your waist and watching you, waiting to see or hear what you would do or say next. Your eyes shifted from his gaze to the rain hitting the glass.
"Maybe I would not be so afraid of the rain if you fucked me against your balcony..."
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Authors Note: surprise ! I finished a lot sooner than expected. pls be nice to me because it has been a rly long time that I've written for someone that was not made up in my head or a fictional character.
Summary: You’re tasked with covering one of Jiyong’s songs. Lots of old memories surface and you have to figure out what you want.
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: None
Author’s Note: Here’s the next part of the series. Thank you to @aizshallnotbefound for the prompt suggestion on this one. I have no answers for any of the questions you guys seek. Just know that I’m forever sorry. Part 5 will be better, maybe. The rest of the series can be found here.
You hadn’t been surprised when you woke up to find Jiyong and his team were gone. You’d expected it the second you’d invited him to your room. You knew you were being hot and cold with him and it wasn’t fair to him, but you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. You’d always be in love with him, but the truth was you two didn’t know each other anymore. You were both so far from those crazy kids you’d been when you’d met. What if you agreed to try now and he realized you weren’t his type anymore? That would be too embarrassing and now with a child on the way? You couldn’t afford to make it any more complicated than it already was.
Your phone buzzed and you sighed as you read the text from your boss. They had a new cover they wanted you to perform, something from some super popular artist that fit your sound. They needed you to come in and record it so you could perform it later. You got out of bed, your eyes falling to the empty spot Jiyong had been hours ago and bit your lip as you made your way to the bathroom, rushing through your morning routine.
Big Bang april challenge - April 4th
summary: bumping into an ex at the most unexpected place...
warnings: nothing much really, tiny bit of angst and emotional cheating innuendos (but no actual cheating and NOT between the main characters - read to understand), sensitive reader
a/n: if I say I got carried away it would be an euphemism. this is quite long, literally a full fanfic on its own. a whole subplot has been created for it! I hope it will be enjoyable :) tysm @wcnderlnds and @ldydeath for the fun challenge!
p.s.: the Adrienette slow dance music perfectly fits the vibe
The hum of the passenger-filled airplane was the only sound reaching you. And yet, people continued to board the massive metallic vessel, speaking loudly as they hoisted their luggage into the overhead compartments. You could hear the rustling of jackets as strangers bumped into each other, the children asking how long the journey would take or whether they could eat.
You were already seated, and it was no accident. The moment boarding was announced, you had leaped to be the first in line, the first to present your passport, your documents, your ticket. In fact, the flight was scheduled to depart at four in the afternoon, but you had arrived at the airport at seven in the morning.
But that, too, was no coincidence. You were terrified of planes. Heights. An irrational, all-consuming fear that sometimes forced you to endure three-day train journeys just to avoid a simple flight. Even though your budding career as a seamstress required you to travel, it was well known that you never took planes, and the rare events to which you were invited were usually within Korea, around Seoul.
It wasn’t a bad arrangement, you thought. No, it was your fear that dictated your choices. Not just any fear, not the kind that makes you close your eyes for a moment. No, yours was the kind that made you tremble, cry, curl into yourself.
But this time, you had no choice. One of your closest childhood friends was getting married this weekend in Paris. And unless some magical form of transportation could bridge the gap between Seoul and Paris, you were left with no other option. You had considered declining. Hesitated for hours.
But in the end, you had no choice but to accept. Because your favorite fashion designer, DIANE, lived near the wedding venue and you were told she might attend. Because it was one of your dearest friends. Because you hadn’t seen him in over ten years, and you missed him terribly. Because at thirty-four, your life was just beginning, and it was a chaotic whirlwind of fabric, needles, phone calls, restless women, and fashion magazines. Of screens, austerity, discipline. A thrilling life, yes, but an exhausting one.
Head buried in your hands, you took a deep breath, trying to steady the irrational pounding of your heart. Your chest ached, tightening around your lungs, forcing you to breathe only through your mouth, in uneven, ragged gasps. You rubbed your clammy hands together, then wiped them on your jeans - only to repeat the motion as fresh sweat immediately replaced the last.
The plane was scheduled to take off in about ten minutes. Since your friend Dong-hyun and his fiancée had decided to gift flight tickets to all their guests, you had insisted on flying economy class despite their attempts to offer you a better seat. Dong-hyun eventually gave in, albeit reluctantly. His fiancée scolded him; she genuinely wanted you to be comfortable. You pulled the light shawl over your shoulders and breathed in its scent.
Lost in thought, you decided to calm yourself by opening a book from your carry-on. Time passed at that steady rhythm until you felt a shift, a faint tremor. Your fingers clenched around the book. The words dissolved into broken syllables.
“…his hand… rai… catch… and… c…”
The rolling motion began. Like a car, you murmured. Like. A. Car. Breathe. Stay calm. It’s going to be okay. A. Car. A train. It’s going to be okay.
At first, it was fine. The first ten minutes. The wheels retracting. The screech against the tarmac. And then it began. Your nails dug into the armrests. You squeezed your eyes shut, tried to control your breathing, counted the clouds, but nothing worked.
Beside you, a child sat with headphones on, absorbed in a book, while his mother dozed off, cradling a newborn. You couldn’t ask them for help. Across the aisle, a man was fast asleep.
The shaking started.
The plane sped up. Faster. Faster still. Faster, faster, faster - it was about to lift off, about to take flight. The seatbelt sign wasn’t even on yet, but you were braced, your heart pounding wildly.
And then, turbulence.
Your hand shot out and latched onto someone’s arm as they passed by, gripping their forearm with all your strength. Trembling, lips pressed into a thin line, you refused to let go. And then-
A voice instructed passengers to fasten their seatbelts.
You looked up.
The person looked down.
And you both froze.
He was wearing a mask. A cap.
But those eyes. Those strands of hair falling over his gaze.
Him.
Choi Seunghyun.
“Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
Right there. In front of you. Your first love. The first person in your life. The one with whom you had built a future. Who had pushed you to enroll in fashion school. Whom you had encouraged to try rapping. Whose first lyrics you helped write. Who you graduated high school with.
Of course.
The one celebrating his birthday - Dong-hyun - had been your best friend back then. The nights spent playing board games after school. The words, the music. The way they used to tease you two, knowing you were in love but that neither of you dared to make the first move.
The time they abandoned you at the fair, forcing you two together.
The moment his lips met yours on the Ferris wheel.
The day he confessed, cheeks flushed, in the heart of your seventeen-year-old selves.
Oh.
If there was one thing Seunghyun knew, it was how terrified you were of heights. In the Ferris wheel, before he kissed you, you had cried and clung to his shirt. In the end, it had been purely instinctive. You had found him looking at you, soothing you, and it had simply happened. Your heart had pounded for an entirely different reason, and the world had fallen silent.
And the wheel had reached the bottom. Calmly. Without turbulence.
Seunghyun’s arm did not move. Another thing about him was his ability to make decisions quickly.
“Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. I repeat, please-”
“Unfasten your seatbelt,” he ordered. You were too stunned to react. With a swift movement, you clicked open your belt. A flight attendant was striding toward you, but Seunghyun remained unfazed. He waited - waited for the command to reach your brain, for your fingers to press the metallic clasp, for his hand to calmly take yours and enclose it within his.
Gently guiding you, he led you all the way to the empty seats. The flight attendant approached, but then, suddenly, Seunghyun lowered his mask, and she blushed before turning away.
He took one of the vacant seats and sat down, then helped you sit before fastening your seatbelt. Without a word, he placed a hand on the side of your head, tilted it onto his shoulder, close to his heart, and let his fingers hover against your cheek for a moment before lowering his hand to your shoulder, keeping you pressed against him.
Not a single word. Only the rhythm of his heartbeat, the reassuring scent of clean linen and his cologne - unchanged - the warmth of his fingers on your shoulder, and the silence that said everything.
You no longer felt anything. You were at peace. The plane accelerated. The wheels screeched against the ground, and then your heart lurched as it took off, as the world tilted slightly and the landscape blurred past.
But Seunghyun held you close. He pressed your shoulder in that rhythmic way he had with his fingers, one after the other, like playing a piano, creating a cadence that regulated your breathing. He always did that when you panicked - whether over an overwhelming workload or when you came home crying after a failed deal. Seunghyun was calm and understanding.
Perhaps that was why you drifted apart. After high school, he spent two years at SNU studying history, but he never managed to love the university or academic life. Eventually, he dropped out, and gradually, you both ended up investing in a talent he had kept buried deep within him but had always cherished - singing, rapping, the world of stardom. Little by little, a career took shape.
You had been there, watching from the sidelines, as he traded textbooks for lyrics and study halls for underground stages. He started rapping again, reconnecting with an old friend, Kwon Ji-yong, and from there, everything snowballed. YG Entertainment. Big Bang. Stadiums and screaming fans. His name became something else - T.O.P - and the world claimed him.
You had hardly ever met the other members. You were too busy. You, whom he had encouraged to enroll in a fashion school, faced rejection after rejection.
He had always been there for you. All this time. His rhythmic tapping, his presence - him, simply. Always putting you before his career. Always. One call at any hour? He would be at your doorstep, canceling a concert for tens of thousands of people.
But you were the one who distanced yourself first. You were too much for him. Too much of everything, too much of his world, too much of his refuge, too much of his problem.
And then, you were finally accepted by an underrated Korean designer. She saw herself as a pioneer, advocating for pattern mixing - pairing a plaid shirt with a polka-dot skirt.
You were not an innovator, more conventional, but she guided you beyond the conformity of everyday life. Seunghyun always saw you as a little bird - his nickname for you was Dalsae. Moon bird.
But you had taken flight. Your first fashion show was a shock. She provoked, she attacked. Seunghyun warned you, saying you were going against your nature, but you thought he wanted to keep you from flying. You lashed out at him. You provoked him constantly, throwing barbed words, yet he remained as calm as ever.
But each time, he withdrew a little more.
A crack formed. And when the designer helped you spread your wings, she clipped them. She stole your sketches and created a new collection that shook the fashion world. A deafening silence.
However, Seunghyun was no longer there. He had pulled away - afraid for you, but also of you. You were always so quick to anger.
The cracks deepened. Mistakes were made on both sides: he withdrew when you truly needed him, and you let him go when he needed a sign to stay.
And so, your worlds crumbled. Even when you came back, proposed new designs, received countless calls, even when Nova was suddenly dragged to court for intellectual theft, and your sketches were finally unveiled to the world.
Even when your world rebuilt itself. He was no longer there.
Physically, yes, you still lived together. But the mistakes of your youth had turned you into wandering souls. Strangers.
The separation was silent. Slowly, things disappeared - first a toothbrush, then a jacket, then his underwear. Then the shelves emptied, the closets, the separate nights.
And then, one morning, he told you he would be staying over at a friend’s place for the night. And you knew he would not return.
He left you the furniture, the car, the apartment. But he took your heart. You didn’t cry in the first few weeks. You were too busy, still unaware.
Then, one Friday night, you came home, laughing, happy because you had been invited to your first event, and you wanted him to come. You had called his name, placed a cake you had bought on the dining table, and suddenly realized.
He was gone. The apartment was empty.
And only then did you cry, mourning the loss of the person dearest to you.
Seven years later, he was here. Holding you as he used to, just as calm. You stayed in his arms for long minutes. You even dozed off against his chest as his fingers stroked your hair.
Hours later, you woke with just an hour and a half left in the flight, realizing that throughout the twelve-hour journey, not once had you trembled. And against you, he breathed, deeply asleep, his hand still holding you - just as he had seventeen years earlier, in that Ferris wheel.
With a small movement, you lifted his arm, gently placed it back against his body, then slipped away to retrieve your bag and belongings. As you returned, you wondered why you were coming back to your ex’s side, but you chose not to think about it too much and let yourself sink into the seat beside him.
You pulled out your book, and even when the plane landed, the mere presence of the man with his steady breathing and familiar scent was enough to calm you.
You arrived at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport around four in the morning. Your body was stiff as you unloaded your luggage and belongings, and by the time you were through, it was nearly five, with the sun rising. Seunghyun and you had exchanged no words, but he remained close, his hand hovering over the small of your back, guiding you everywhere. He retrieved your suitcase, your handbag - a birthday gift from him as a couple - and you swore you saw his eyes soften behind his mask. You spoke little, in brief syllables - “All good?” “And you?” “Yes.” “No.” “Careful.” “Go first.”
The French air smelled sharper, a little less artificial than Korea’s. The airport was vast, filled with unfamiliar voices and sounds you didn’t understand.
“L'embarquement pour l'avion vers Riyad partira avec un retard de quinze minutes. Les portes de l'embarquement pour Genève sont fermées. À cause des travaux-”
Seunghyun was pulling his suitcase and carrying your backpack. After all the security checks (where you were forced to throw away a perfume bottle because you had apparently forgotten how to read numbers), you finally reached the airport exit together. You were the one to break the real silence.
“Are you going to Dong-hyun and Soo-yeon’s wedding?”
He had lowered his mask - in Paris, he was less recognized - and you took the opportunity to observe him under his cap, his dark brown hair always falling messily over his eyes, the way you used to love brushing it back. His deep eyes, which used to light up when you kissed him and he pulled you into his arms. His thin, rosy lips. He hadn’t changed, though a few lines creased his forehead when he raised his eyebrows or around his eyes. But that was only because you knew his face by heart. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed.
You removed your shawl and shook your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. You thought his gaze lingered on you, but when you looked up, he was reading the screens.
You walked side by side, silent, save for the rolling of your suitcases on the parquet floor and the shrill voices of parents calling after their children.
“I received the invitation a month ago.”
Seunghyun rarely answered with a simple yes or no. He always took a step around his response, as if he already knew what you were about to say.
"Me too. I'm surprised he's doing it in Paris, even though Soo-yeon is French."
He still wasn’t looking at you. "Dong-hyun dreamed of Montparnasse."
Memories resurfaced. Dong-hyun didn’t care about the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre. He was obsessed with that tower - who knows why.
"His architectural project model was a replica of the tower, remember?"
Seunghyun’s lips curled slightly, and you thought you heard a quiet laugh escape him. "He was such an idiot, too. Who builds a famous tower? Did he think that just because it was in Korea, he could pretend he had invented it?"
You laughed too, your eyes glimmering. "He said great minds think alike. I haven’t seen him in a while."
"Ten years. Just before…"
Before you parted ways. A heavy silence fell again. You gripped your suitcase, your knuckles turning white.
"We’re here."
You lifted your head. It was the exit. Seunghyun lingered for a moment, his gaze resting on your face, which seemed so distant to him that his heart clenched.
"Do you have a taxi?"
You nodded. Soo-yeon and you had video-called because her fiancé had told her you two would get along perfectly, and she had adored you - both you and your designs. Her mother was French, and Soo-yeon had assured you that your fashion would revolutionize Paris. She had even sent a friend to pick you up directly.
And there he was. You recognized him from the picture - dark brown hair, green eyes, leather jacket.
He recognized you too. He walked up to you, pulled you into a hug, and kissed both your cheeks loudly. Then, he grabbed your suitcase, speaking in a choppy mix of French and English.
"Yoo, Soo-yeon told me so much sur toi. Askip you’re a designer. TROP excited to see that."
He walked with a swagger and smelled of cigarettes and leaves. You glanced up at Seunghyun as the man, in a hurry, dragged your luggage while monologuing.
Your cheeks were red, your eyes still damp. You grabbed your backpack from Seunghyun’s hand and gave him a quick wave.
"See you later."
He didn’t answer. His eyes flicked from you to the man, then to the signs and the ticking time. He hadn’t lost his composure, but you could have sworn you saw him falter.
☽
The hotel was a grand Haussmannian building in the sixth arrondissement. In the lobby, men carried your suitcases upstairs, the so-called friend, Benoît, kissed your cheeks again before leaving, and you found yourself lost in a foreign whirlwind.
Your belongings were brought up, you followed the elevator to the seventh floor, walked down the hallway, and a mustached man in red opened the door for you, handing you a key card.
Only then did you let yourself collapse onto the velvet bed. The wedding was in two days, and you felt yourself sink into sleep.
☽
Night fell, and you woke abruptly to a deep, thunderous rumble. Jolting out of bed, you searched for the source before realizing the window was ajar. You still hadn’t changed. Moving toward the small balcony, you stepped outside. In the distance, a construction site pressed forward, a massive yellow crane screeching as it moved. How did the workers dare to climb it? To you, it was the ultimate display of courage.
The night was deep, the sky a dark blue, starless. Far away, the Eiffel Tower pierced a lone cloud. It had not yet begun to sparkle. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of flowers placed along the railing and something warm. And just then, you felt a new world unfolding before you. It would be okay. Everything would be okay.
You smiled at the sky, stretching your hand outward as if to touch the Eiffel Tower from afar.
"Careful!"
The voice came from your left. You turned your head sharply, gripping the railing for balance - and then you saw him.
Seunghyun had the room next to yours. The moment he saw you, his fist clenched, and without another word, he stepped back into his room.
Your heart pounded violently. You turned back inside, shut the terrace doors, and stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Quickly, you washed your body with the hotel’s Marseille soap, dried your hair in the modern bathroom, then changed to go for a walk.
Dressing wasn’t a simple task for you; designing clothes meant you played by your own rules. Your main principle lay in color - its chaotic harmony. That was why you were Korea’s ever-changing bird. And Seunghyun’s moonbird. His Dalsae.
But tonight, you wanted to exist quietly. Without colors.
So you slipped into one of your work sweaters and a pair of trousers - elegant and pressed, but loose enough to let you dissolve into your thoughts. You laced up your sneakers, unlocked the door, and left your belongings neatly stacked in the corner of the room.
The hallway was lined with red carpet, the walls gilded leather molded into a series of convex shapes. It was an attempt at blending Renaissance France with Versailles and Louis Le Vau’s influence while preserving the Haussmannian essence that came later in the early nineteenth century.
The mix was somewhat grotesque - clumsy in the way only forced luxury can be. Instinctively, your fingers reached for your ear, searching for a pencil as if to sketch out a better design, when a shadow moved behind you.
Seunghyun approached, carrying his scent like an unmistakable aura. He tilted his head.
"The hotel’s style is strange."
It wasn’t a question. He had figured it out. He always did. You threw your head back, grinning at him upside down.
"Yep. I want to redesign the whole building."
He smiled softly, and the two of you continued walking through the hall.
What was he doing here?
"Paris is dangerous at night," he replied, as if he had read your thoughts. "These are the nice neighborhoods, but every corner has a story. Don’t go out alone."
You nodded thoughtfully. His gaze swept over your ‘normal’ outfit, your barely-there makeup, the damp curls that had slipped from your low ponytail.
You walked in silence for a moment, reached the elevator, and waited patiently. You swung your foot slightly forward, feigning indifference.
The elevator arrived. You stepped inside, and then-
The silence of the corridor suddenly expanded into something immense. Overwhelming.
The seven floors that had taken only minutes before now stretched into endless hours.
You didn’t dare lift your head to meet his gaze. He said nothing, but you knew his head was lowered too. And that he had pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt - your favorite - over his hair.
"So… how are you?"
His voice sent a shiver down your spine. Between these four walls, it felt so distant yet so close, vibrating through you.
"I’m fine. But…"
Finally daring to look at him, you tried to catch his eyes as they darted away.
"And you? Are you… okay?"
His fingers tugged at the drawstrings of his hoodie. He wasn’t looking at you.
"Hyun?"
At the sound of his name, he reacted. His face lifted, revealing something shaken, fractured - all the emotions bottled up in those endless silences, in that dull absence.
"I…"
Ting!
The door opened. He composed himself, adjusted his posture, and let you step out before following suit. The hotel lobby had filled slightly with couples and murmuring voices, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. Every golden table was occupied. People spoke loudly, many in English. A blend of musk and old upholstery floated around you, and you mentally added it to the list of comforting scents.
Seunghyun stepped ahead as the grand doors swung open, and the two of you stepped into the fresh, dark night. A shiver ran through you, and you followed him. You walked in silence for a while, taking in the crisp scent of pine and sharp autumn leaves, until the quiet grew heavier.
So much to say, and no way to say it.
“How are GDragon and the others?”
Truthfully, GD was the only name you had remembered - because you loved dragons and the intricate scale patterns you often incorporated into your designs, and because you'd met Jiyong a few times.
Seunghyun exhaled softly. “They’re fine.”
You reached a winding street. Hundreds of cars crisscrossed in every direction, and well-dressed pedestrians crowded the sidewalks. For the first time in your life, you felt underdressed. The Eiffel Tower loomed closer.
“Not really,” he finally admitted, exhaling. “There have been… problems. A few scandals. It’s been rough.”
A gust of cold air made you shudder. He noticed but said nothing at first. “We’ve had problems. I don’t know if things will ever get better.”
Big Bang? Problems? You had been so consumed by your own world that you had ignored his. To this day, the wound of your breakup was still raw. Because neither of you had ever really spoken the words. And perhaps because of that, you still felt as if you were together. As if every man you had dated since was, in some unspoken way, a betrayal. You were still bound to Seunghyun.
The silence was unbearable.
The nights spent laughing like lunatics on the couch over some ridiculous comedy. The hours wasted on absurd video games he’d bought from obscure stores, games that made no sense. The virus he downloaded that turned your screen blue for months. The ridiculous nicknames. That time you both dyed your hair red and botched it so badly that your scorched ends turned into wild, lion-like manes for weeks. The rule 'No laughing at the other' that none of you respected, holding your stomaches with laughter. The kisses.
You missed him. More than that - you were dying without him.
“Seunghyun?”
He tilted his head slightly, listening. He had always been calm, but never this silent.
“Why did we break up?”
The question lingered in the air. It cut through the tension, shattering it into a thousand sharper pieces. Your breath caught in your throat. Too late to take it back now.
Glancing at him, you noticed the slight tremor in his lower lip.
“We never really broke up,” he said.
It was true. Exactly what you had feared all along.
“But you were afraid,” he added. “Terrified.”
Afraid? You barely had time to ask before he continued.
“When that woman - the designer, the one they called Super-”
“Nova.”
“Yes. Supernova. When she took you in, she made you scared of everything. You lost yourself after that. Your ambition, your sketches, your dreams.”
The sky was cloudless. Seunghyun’s steps beside you were light, steady, grounding.
“And me. You were so afraid of ruining everything that you did everything to push me away. You fear your own emotions.”
You only realized you were crying when the cold air brushed against your damp cheeks. Two quiet tears slipped down your face and disappeared into the pavement.
“Did you ever want to end it all?” you asked. The question that had burned on your tongue for years. Had he ever wanted to leave?
He did not answer immediately.
A street vendor tried to slip miniature Eiffel Towers into your pockets, but Seunghyun stopped him with a single, polite nod, freezing the man in place. The warm scent of crepes drifted through the air. Seunghyun followed your gaze and stopped at the stand. You protested, but he bought two - one with sugar, one with chocolate - and handed you the last one without expecting anything in return.
That was who he was. A giver. Even his happiness, at the cost of his own.
“Never,” he finally answered.
He shook his head as you bit into the buttery warmth, the sweet-salty contrast overwhelming your senses. Another warmth spread within you.
“You know Nova was sued?” you said.
He smirked. “Serves her right. She was unbearable.”
“Hey, not entirely. After meeting her, I’d come home with rolls of fabric and sew you the most stylish ties.”
He chuckled, the sound so familiar it sent a shiver of happiness through you.
“Stylish? I had to attend auditions wearing shirts with tiny penguins and monkeys on the cuffs.”
You nearly choked on your bite of crepe.
“You okay?” he asked.
Yeah. You were okay.
“You wore them! Every single one!”
You burst out laughing, picturing him rapping in his ridiculous shirts. And despite himself, despite everything, laughter finally took hold of him too.
“Yes. Every single one.”
Wiping his eyes, he turned to you.
“Because you made them.”
Your laughter faded into quiet warmth. You looked up at him, eyes bright, lips curved in a soft smile. You held his gaze for long, lingering seconds.
How you had missed him. All this time. All these years.
He studied you in return. Your eyes remained locked until he finally looked away and took another bite of his crepe. You resumed walking.
“Seunghyun?”
“Hm?” You swallowed.
“How did they find out Nova stole my sketches?”
The man beside you swallowed hard. You had often wondered who had leaked the signed designs you had hidden away, the ones that vanished right after his departure.
“The truth always comes out,” he said. But he avoided your gaze.
He had been your guardian angel all these years.
Your heart pounded again. The Eiffel Tower was just ahead now, glowing golden, its lights forming a mosaic against the night sky. Crowds of people laughed, danced, filmed, kissed. You climbed the steps, drawing closer to the iron lattice, watching it shimmer, your eyes full of stars.
Laughing, you turned to Seunghyun. “Take a picture of me.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off you.
You held out your phone, but he pulled out his own.
“The camera’s better,” he said.
He hadn’t changed his phone in years. The image froze in time - your eternal smile, your rosy cheeks.
You bounced back to him, beaming. “Amazing! Your turn!”
He shook his head, resisting. But you tugged at his sleeve, and before he could protest, you handed his phone to a woman with a stroller while her husband scolded two rowdy children. She smiled warmly and gestured for you to pose.
Seunghyun left a few inches of space between your shoulders.
“Closer!” the woman instructed in English. “Yeah! Perfect!”
You had moved closer. "Cheeese." She took the picture.
"Your arm! Come on, your girl is so beautiful!" She smiled at you.
Seunghyun swallowed hard. The woman made a sweeping gesture with her arm, prompting him to wrap his own around your neck.
"Bring her closer! Don’t you love the girl?"
So you nestled into his embrace. You let your hands linger on his chest, your head resting against his heart, and he tightened his grip on your shoulder, relaxing just slightly.
"Perfect!" the woman cried. "Excellent. A kiss, maybe?"
Seeing the horror on your faces, she laughed and handed you the phone back.
"So cute! Me and my husband?"
You took her picture, and she left, waving warmly.
"Can I see the photos?" you asked.
Seunghyun handed you his phone, and you scrolled through them. Then, instinctively, you tapped the small arrow in the rectangle to send them to yourself.
Dalsae.
Your breath caught. You were still here.
You hadn’t changed.
With trembling fingers, you hit send. Then you handed him back the phone, your lips quivering. His fingers brushed against yours. His eyes never left you. He picked up his phone. You extended your hand.
The Eiffel Tower sparkled. Darkness had suddenly fallen. Deep, luminous, fireworks bursting in the sky.
There. It was only him, and only you. Your eyes fell to his lips. His gaze traced your face, your mouth. Your body gravitated toward his. Your hands landed on his chest, his on your hips.
You were mere centimeters apart. It was cold. You were burning.
You lifted onto your toes. He tilted his head. His hair skimmed your cheeks, your forehead. Your nose brushed against his. Your lips-
"Ow!"
A girl behind you stumbled. You jumped, and Seunghyun abruptly pulled away.
"Sorry! I'm sorry, I-"
You reached for him again, but he withdrew feverishly.
"No, we can’t!" he insisted.
"But why?!" you snapped, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes. "Do you not love me? Do you not love me anymore?"
He shook his head, as if he couldn’t understand what you were saying, as if it were nonsense.
"Stop, please. We need to go back. You need to rest for the wedding."
"Seunghyun! You say I run from my feelings, but you’re the one running from yours! What is it?!"
His eyes were locked on you, but he wasn’t really seeing you. He had shut down. He was pulling away. You were sinking, nearly screaming.
"I can’t!"
"BUT WHY?!"
His mouth opened. You saw it coming. You felt it.
"I have someone! There!"
Your heart plummeted in your chest. In an instant, it collapsed. The world turned black, then blue, then gray, then orange. Then black again. So very black.
"Fine," you whispered.
"Listen, I-"
"No, it’s fine. Good luck."
You stepped back, watching him, and nearly missed the step behind you. It should have made you laugh, but instead, you broke, and you exploded into a thousand tears, fleeing into the streets toward the hotel.
Seunghyun reached out, but it was useless. Just like you and the Eiffel Tower from the balcony.
If he stepped too far, he would fall.
☽
The next morning arrived like a flash of lightning. You had no idea how your clothes ended up on your body, how you slipped into your quiet morning attire and made your way to the first hall, long before the festivities, starting tomorrow evening.
You were suprised to find the bride to be. Soo-yeon sat downstairs in the hall, at one of the gilded cafeteria tables, sipping tea in a delicate pink dress and chatting with five teenage girls. The moment she saw you, she turned, dropped her cup, and ran toward you.
"OH, darling! I’ve so dreamed of meeting you!"
She pulled away after pressing two loud kisses to your cheeks, leaving two bright pink lip marks on your face. Her strong perfume - lavender, mandarin, and bergamot - made your eyes sting. Her long hair was dyed pink all the way to the roots, concealing its true color, and despite her distinctly Korean features, her brown eyes seemed to shimmer a little blue.
"You’re gorgeous!"
She took your arm, humming, and sat you down on the sofa near the table, calling the waiter.
"Garçon!"
A man arrived, took your order - hot chocolate - and left. She spoke a lot, a mix of korean, english and french, quickly, but never stuttered or hesitated. Her posture was impeccable.
"Listen, I have a brilliant idea. How long does it take you to create a dress?" she asked.
You shook your head, a little overwhelmed. Then, thoughtful, you counted on your fingers. Sketch. Choose fabrics. Shopping. Cutting. Tracing. Dampening the fabric to give it texture, if the design required it. Crinkling. Ironing. Sewing. Assembling. Fitting. Adjusting. Re-sewing.
"Ah, a lot. Almost fifteen hours if I take a full day without eating, without breaks, and if the client patiently waits while I test everything on them."
Soo-yeon smiled, her glittery pink eyeshadow shimmering. She was too impatient.
"Well! Listen," she motioned for you to come closer, leaning slightly in, resting a manicured hand on your forearm. "If I give you an ideal world. A workshop. And even small employees. Could you make that work?"
You stared, confused, waiting for her to keep going as she examined your face with a small smile. When you did not respond, she continued.
"Make my dress for tomorrow."
You stared at her, dumbfounded. But she did not give you time to think.
"If you make it, just know that one of the best fashion designers in Paris will drop by my party. DIANE."
It was as if the breath had been knocked from your lungs. DIANE was your idol. You admired her as much as you feared her and her judgment.
"Of course, I have a dress, just in case. But this idea came to me just this morning at four AM, while I couldn’t sleep and was painting my nails. I want something new, I want to be the most original bride in Paris."
Your heart pounded. The other girls watched you with smiles. They were young. She gestured toward them.
"These are friends’ daughters who were looking for a job opportunity. They’ll be at your service - I’ll pay them, and I’ll pay for the dress. You get to impress DIANE. And I have a dress no one possesses in Paris by the future fashion sensation."
In around forty hours. It was nearly seven AM. The opportunity was incredible. Then an idea struck you. With five assistants, you could also create bridesmaids’ dresses.
You often got a bit too ahead of yourself, and that you would only realise in a few hours.
"How many bridesmaids do you have?" you finally asked.
If she was surprised, she didn’t show it.
"Well, I have many friends, but only three very close ones. Léa, Camille, and Mi-rae. And I’ve chosen you as well, of course."
Four dresses.
"The wedding is Saturday at eight PM?" you asked, jumping from your seat, nearly knocking over the hot chocolate that had just arrived.
She grinned brightly.
"Sharp, darling."
☽
Forty hours. Forty hours. Forty hours.
Soo-yeon lent you a friend’s workshop. It had everything you needed, from sewing machines to spools of thread. She had given you a magazine featuring different fabrics and had circled her favorites.
The five girls spoke English; only one of them understood and spoke Korean. She translated quickly for her friends and became your right hand.
“Okay, Ju-bin, tell them to fetch me the white tin fabric and the crystal flowers here.”
"Faut chercher les fleurs de cristal et le tissu blanc les filles!"
You pointed to the magazine. The girls, thrilled, dashed off. They returned swiftly. You stacked the fabrics, let them dry during the process, rushed all over the workshop, pricked your fingers seven times. Then, you started working on the bridesmaids’ dresses in raspberry red fabric, asking for off-white diamonds. One of the girls went to buy cream-colored heels, another returned with tights, Soo-yeon had left her number, and everything was going well.
Then, suddenly, in your exhaustion, you lifted the bride's dress and saw that you had made a mistake. One single stitch was sticking out too much. From afar, it was invisible, but with the bride in front of everyone, it would be immediately noticeable, and for DIANE, it was ruined.
The dress slipped from your hands, and you exploded. It was two o'clock. The day was almost over, and tomorrow you needed to get the bridesmaid's dresses done. You could never continue.
The girls, who had returned, surrounded you and tried to help, but you cried bitterly in your helplessness. It reminded you of the night with Nova when she said "See you tomorrow," and the next day, your sketches were her new collection. And that... Seunghyun had been there to comfort you. All night. Even though you were strangers. You knew the relationship was hanging by a thread, and you were tipping over to the wrong side.
“Are you okay?!" The workshop door opened with a gust of wind that carried the familiar musk scent, and there he was, standing in his large felt jacket, his chest rising with short, labored breaths. "I got a call from Dong-hyun and an insane idea from his wife - his fiancée - Dalsae?”
Seunghyun stared at your helpless and crumbled figure.
“What’s going on?”
The girls stepped aside. Ju-bin widened her eyes in surprise.
“T.O.P.?”
He flashed her a small smile, always polite.
“Ah, yes,” he replied. “Can we talk after?”
She nodded, stunned. In French, she said something to her friends, and you heard “Star” and “Korea,” and they left the room to get some fresh air. Ju-bin told you they were just going to have a juice across the street and would return as soon as you messaged them.
It was just you and Seunghyun now. Again. He crouched between the fabrics, took your face in his hands, and with eyes filled with concern, he whispered, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.
“Are you okay? Dong-hyun told me that Soo-yeon is a bit impulsive and that he was worried about the task she gave you, but she refused to disclose it. He managed to convince her by saying it was because... because I’m your boyfriend and that you needed me.”
You stopped crying, sniffled.
“Is that true? You came for me?”
He released your face and pulled you into his arms.
“I’m always here for you.”
Then he pulled away again, grabbing your shoulders.
“So? What’s going on?”
You briefly explained Soo-yeon’s crazy plan and how you also wanted to make dresses for the four bridesmaids.
“Ahh,” he exhaled. “You’re always so energetic. Is there a reason you jumped in so quickly?”
So so understanding. Never blaming you. Always trying to understand you. Through your blurred eyes, you mumbled something.
“Hm? I didn’t hear.”
“Because I never succeed at anything. My sketches were stolen, I fail at everything. And you... you’re always succeeding at everything. I’m ashamed.”
His eyes lit up, and he squeezed your palm without responding.
He was smiling. He had forgotten the night before, and even if what he was doing didn’t seem the most acceptable with a girlfriend, you didn’t care right now. You needed him, you needed your friend first.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
He pulled you to your feet.
“We’re going to make these dresses. You’re going to crush it, okay, Dalsae?”
You nodded timidly. He went to fetch the girls from the café, and you started again. It was approaching two-thirty, and you worked harder, sewing, the girls sewing, not a sound except Seunghyun’s intermittent whistling. Ju-bin stuck close to his heels while maintaining a respectful distance, but she was so excited she worked twice as fast. They cut, followed all your orders, and Seunghyun had a blast with the fabrics and their assembly.
You were happy. Excited, you loved sewing, and felt like an actual seamstress with her workers.
You didn't know how it happened. At one point, you were sewing, and the other, you were sprawled out on the floor laying between the crumpled clothes, snoring, Seunghyun's arm around your shoulder. The girls dozed off on their work tables, seeing you resting, and you only woke up when from the workshop's transparent window rays of sunshine filtered and you heard birds singing. You rose, shook Seunghyun who mumbled in his sleep as he rubbed his eyes.
"Come back," he whined, trying to grab your waist and drag you down.
You resisted, face burning. The girls were sleeping and you did not need them just yet, you let them dream a bit longer. It was approximately five AM.
Naturally, you went back to sewing. You chose simple designs, even though the end result seemed intricate, it was patterns you were used to doing, and it only needed some stitches to put everything together. Your fingers moved quickly, you added the tiny pearls, the bridesmaid's dresses were easy, as the fabric had already a design on itself.
The girls woke up, everyone went back to work quickly, and Seunghyun tried to help as much as he could. At one point, he gave instructions to the girls and grabbed you as you were complaining, dragging you out of the shop. He bought you a juice and a pastry and forced you to eat.
"Thank you," you finally said.
He only smiled. Your heart fluttered. This. Just this smile. You could do with it for the rest of your life.
You went back to the workshop, drew some adjustments, sewed for a few more hours. You were not aware it was humanly possible to sew five full dresses in forty hours, no matter how easy the design was. But within all this exhaustion, you recognised passion. You were happy and felt satisfied.
Thank you Seunghyun for forcing you to enroll in fashion school.
You added some pearls, cut some pieces, sewed the zipper.
Around six-forty, you shouted.
“STOP. DROP EVERYTHING.”
Eyes wide, they dropped everything onto the disordered work tables.
“STOP. We need to try on the dress. We need Soo-yeon. We can’t continue without the exact measurements.”
Seunghyun scratched the back of his head, ran to get your phone, and Ju-bin handed him the paper with Soo-yeon’s number. He dialed.
The phone rang four times. Five. Six.
“The number you’ve dialed is not reachable. Please leave a message after the beep.”
“Shit! Call back.”
You waited nervously, fingers tapping on your worktable, legs crossed on your rolling chair as you rocked back and forth. Seunghyun complied immediately and dialed again. Same result.
“Dong-hyun?”
You bit your nail, but Seunghyun had moved closer to you and held your hand in his free palm, shaking his head, the phone pressed to his ear. It rang.
“Yes?”
A small voice. Frowning, he nodded. The call lasted mere seconds.
“Ah. Shit. Okay, thanks. Yeah, see you.”
He hung up. He looked at you, biting his lower lip, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
“Soo-yeon is missing. He doesn’t know where she is and suspects she won’t return until the wedding. She’s unreachable.”
Oh no, no, no!
The ultimate failure for a designer is to create a perfect outfit that doesn’t fit the body. Because a garment is just fabric if it isn’t worn. DIANE would notice the slightest slip! The bridesmaids’ dresses had a belt that made them one-size-fits-all, the fabric would wear differently on each one but would fit perfectly on all. But the bride!
“We’re screwed!”
You put your head in your hands, on the verge of breaking down. Seunghyun crouched down, one hand on your shoulder, tapping to calm you.
“We can still...”
“I know.”
One of the girls stepped forward, Valentine, you think, speaking in English.
“Miss Soo-yeon is a bit like you.”
You removed your hands and wiped your tears.
“Like me?”
She nodded. Ju-bin agreed, the other girls stood up too.
“Yes! Almost the same body!”
You lowered your head, looked at your arms, legs, and hips. It was true. She was a few centimeters taller, but your bodies were similar.
“You mean I...”
“Yes! Try on the dress!”
The girls flittered around you. Seunghyun had stood up, arms crossed, but he gave you a half-smile of encouragement. He was the only one that mattered. With his mouth, he silently said "do it."
So, you nodded.
You pulled the girls into the next room, full of mirrors, needles in their mouths. Then you undressed, looked at your reflection in the mirror. Yes, it should work. The girls helped you bend over and thread the needle, it slipped, falling to the floor, caressing your shoulders and curves.
They zipped you up, adjusted the buttons, the bust, and finally, you dared to turn toward the mirror. Without realizing, the elastic in your hair had slipped. The strands cascaded down your shoulders. You called one of the girls.
“Hey Val, pull it over there!”
Valentine pulled, you bit a needle and slipped it to tighten toward your shoulder, did the same at the waist, and finally observed the result. It could work. Should.
“Can I come in?” Seunghyun asked.
“One second!”
You placed the veil on the top of your head, letting it fall over your face, then turned around. The latch clicked. The girls giggled as they slipped into the adjacent room.
Seunghyun froze.
The dress was simple - time constraint - the fabric was the main focus, reminiscent of the skin of a wet swan. Pleated, it flowed into a mermaid tail before breaking into an opening and a pool of white silk. Tiny jewels adorned the bodice, and the dress had no sleeves. Your face was veiled. The bride was supposed to wear gloves too, that you hadn't time to retrieve yet.
He buried his face in his hands.
"Don’t do this to me," he pleaded. His voice trembled, feverish, low. He pressed his back against the door, not daring to look at you again. You moved toward him, avoiding the needles poking your ribs, pushing his hands away as you cradled his face.
"Hyun? What is it?"
He didn’t resist your fingers, his body limp as his arms dropped to your sides. His face burned as he pointed a finger at the veil but didn’t dare touch you.
"If the dress doesn't please DIANE, horses can fly," he murmured.
You chuckled. So close to him, your body pressed against the door, surrendering to his embrace, melting into his arms.
"Oh yeah? And do you like it?" you whispered back, lips mere centimeters from his, separated only by the white fabric.
He nodded silently. Then, delicately, he tilted his head. Your noses brushed, his eyes fixed on your lips, which he caressed with his thumb beneath the forbidden fabric. Tilting his finger to lift it, he whispered,
"That guy from the airport, your French boyfriend, is he okay with us doing this?"
You didn’t fully hear him, leaning in closer, muttering something before realising,
"What guy, what boyfriend? I-"
"HEY! I’m SORRY!"
The door flung open. Soo-yeon was looking for you, the girls emerged from their hiding place, and the workshop filled.
Seunghyun watched you, his heart unsteady. Then, he stepped back, his face flushed.
"We’ll meet at the wedding," he declared.
You heard nothing but the frantic beating of your heart.
☽
Soo-yeon was at the hairdresser’s and returned, bouncing with excitement, with the other bridesmaids. You took off the dress, and the young girls helped them get dressed. The bridesmaids twirled in their raspberry pleated dresses, giving the effect of a rose. You made the final adjustments before being dismissed to prepare, receiving two more loud and rosy kisses from Soo-yeon. She was over the moon.
You ran to the hotel, the dress tucked under your arm. You had forty minutes to shower, do your makeup, and get ready, you wanted to be perfect too.
Then, on your bed, you found a paper and a velvet box. Frowning, you plopped onto the mattress and grabbed it, examining the wine-red box that felt soft in your palm.
Heart pounding, you slowly opening it.
Inside was a shell pearl brooch. Mouth agape with surprise, you delicately took it out. It was heavy, you could feel it in your hand. It was real, it matched perfectly with the bridesmaids' dresses' pearls that you had sewed earlier.
You gently placed the brooch back in its compartment, and, fingers shaking, grabbed the small note, eyes scanning over the familiar handwriting.
"Dalsae, the bravest birds are those who fly at night. You carry within you all the rays of the Moon."
If you didn't have a wedding to attend, you might have collapsed right there and here and grinned like a teenager with a crush all night.
☽
Down in the lobby, you found Benoit. He greeted you with open arms, kissed you again. You were tired of kisses that evening.
"Woah, splendid!" he declared. "Very pretty and-"
A shadow made him stop mid-sentence.
"Wooo, airport guy!"
You turned. Your breath hitched. Seunghyun was wearing a black suit, black tie over a white shirt, his hair tousled elegantly. His dimple still left an adorable mark on his cheek, you wanted to bite him.
But he frowned. "We need to go. We can’t be late."
"Yes, I’ll take her!"
Benoit started pulling you, but Seunghyun grabbed your arm.
"No, I’m taking her with me."
Benoit let go of you and gave a surprised glance from him to you, then from you to him. "Well, I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a girlfriend to meet. She's waiting in my car."
"A girlfriend?"
Seunghyun’s eyes suddenly seemed less hard. He even smiled, a smile that stretched from one ear to the other.
"Oh really? Can you drop us off with you?"
What's with the sudden change?
"Ouais, if you want. We’ll have to squeeze," he shrugged. "Come on, let’s go!"
You shot Seunghyun a glare at his rudeness, but he grinned at you, unfazed. You pinched his arm once you were sitting on the cracked leather of Benoit’s car, all crowded together shoulder to shoulder while Benoit cranked up some French rock, singing loudly with his girlfriend.
"Well, what?" he asked.
"Well, nothing?"
You made a face, and he grabbed your wrist as you tried to pinch him again. The two lovebirds ignored you, making out at every red light.
"Well, yes. You’re as red as a tomato."
He smirked. But where did this sudden ease and shyness come from? What a brat! The Seunghyun of your youth was back, teasing and mischievous.
"Eyes on the road," he scolded. "You’re distracting me."
You tapped his shoulder gently, and he laughed. Then, you let yourself melt into your seat as you approached the Arc de Triomphe, where the ceremony would begin. Dong-hyun would have preferred Montparnasse, but you had learned, at your own expense, the impulsiveness of his fiancée.
"The brooch suits you so well," Seunghyun suddenly murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You shivered, brushed it away with a finger on your lips, but he smiled. "Dalsae."
He was there. Just him and you.
☽
The ceremony began with fireworks. Literally. Soo-yeon wasn’t necessarily rich, but she was a spender. “The last white dress we wear won’t have pockets,” she said, laughing.
In fact, she laughed a lot. All evening.
When Dong-hyun took her hand, he greeted Seunghyun and you, casting you an apologetic glance. He loved you two as a couple, after all, he was one of the reasons it ever worked out.
Later at night, you handed each of the of the teenagers a barrette, sewn at the very end, as a thank you, which they loved.
The bridesmaids were glowing. Passersby whistled, jumped, sang along with you, throwing confetti, and then the group walked toward the Eiffel Tower, where the next part would take place.
Throughout it all, Seunghyun stayed near you, silent. He had given Ju-bin an autograph and even one of his keychains, and she was overflowing with joy.
Soo-yeon was stunning. The most beautiful, a graceful swan with her hair styled in a pink bun. People couldn’t stop praising the dresses.
Then, as you neared the Eiffel Tower, you suddenly felt your pulse quicken.
“Hyun…”
He turned to you.
“Hm?”
“The wedding… we’re doing it underneath, aren’t we?”
He looked up. Stared into the your pupils that pulsed with fear.
“Oh.”
Your eyes burned. You felt the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “Down there, right?” You pointed under the Eiffel tower. You were hoping that he wouldn't tell you you had to go up.
He took your hand. “Do you remember the Ferris wheel?”
You nodded, sniffling.
“Yeah… but…”
The first guests boarded the elevator - Dong-hyun, his wife, and then the rest of the guests gradually. There were some famous faces, but DIANE was still nowhere to be seen.
Seunghyun took your hand, briefly stepped away from the crowd, and you found yourselves in a secluded, dim alley. A stray cat ran away.
“Do you remember what I told you?”
You nodded.
“The bravest birds are the ones who fly at night. And you…” He kissed the edge of your fingers. “You are my moon bird. You can do anything”
Feverish, you shook your head, your hair suddenly cold against your shoulders, tears falling.
“Stop that! When you do this, I feel like we could try again!” you cried.
He let go of you for a moment, surprised. “But I-”
“No! Stop!”
You pushed him away and ran out of the alley. “You are bad! How dare you do that to your girlfriend?!”
You exited the alley, and he chased after you, grabbing your wrist, but you pulled away.
“Let go of me! You can’t do this to me! All these years I…”
Unconsciously, you followed him. He walked backward, and you entered the elevator without realising. Your shoulder hit the glass, and the doors closed, but you were alone, and your ears were ringing. You released all your anger.
“I can’t take it anymore!” you cried again. “I never wanted to leave you! Damn it, I loved you so much…”
He said nothing, just watched you with a calm face, slightly tilted as if to better listen, thoughtful.
“All those years away from you, it was torture,” you sobbed. “Every night, I thought you were there. That you’d come back. That it wasn’t really over.”
You wiped your eyes with your wrist.
“We never really left each other, did we?”
Your teary eyes lifted to meet his. He bit his lower lip, looked at you with all the words stuck in his throat. Taking one step toward you, he gazed at you in a way that made your heart flutter like it never had before. Under his eyelashes, his eyes shone like a constellation.
He lifted a hand, caressing your face with his index. And he leaned in, stopping just before your lips touched.
“There was never anyone else but you.”
You dropped your handbag to the floor and wrapped your arms in one swift movement around his neck. Finally.
You were so dizzy. The distance was infinite.
No more distance. Only the truth. You crashed your lips together. Seven years without feeling that escape.
He tightened his grip around your waist, his hand moving over your hips, the back of your head, your hair, just like on that Ferris wheel and that very first kiss of an intoxicating first love.
He didn’t pull away, breathless, until you felt the cool air on your bare shoulders and the sound of a door opening.
You had reached the top.
Seunghyun was there.
And you felt relaxed.
Seunghyun's lips stretched into a proud grin as he squeezed your hand. You blushed furiously. That was his plan all along?
The terrace was cold. Seunghyun removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, then kissed your hair. Hand in hand, you walked toward your group of friends. You recognized a few old classmates, chatted, and avoided looking near the barriers, but you felt content. Benoit chuckled when he found out Seunghyun had thought you were his girlfriend.
“No thanks, I like mine too much.”
He kissed her passionately. The terrace was decorated with white petals and arches. Benoit went on stage, and a troupe arrived, setting up a piano, and light music filled the air.
A slow song.
Seunghyun extended his hand. He invited you to dance.
His arm wrapped around your waist, your hands around his neck, trembling, you were eighteen again and the boy whose hand you dreamed of holding made you swirl in your room.
You melted into his arms, and together, you began to move to the intoxicating rhythm of the instruments. The air became pleasant. Seunghyun smelled good. The house. Your life, your youth, growing up. You wanted a life with this man.
He let you rest against his chest where his heart beat. Years ago, when, even though you two were official, you came home to red balloons and him in a suit holding a bouquet of red roses for your two-years anniversary. Your parents were smiling proudly, they loved him like a son. You had run to him, hurling yourself into his arms while your heart was threatening to break through your chest.
And when he invited you to your first dance in the living room, interlacing your fingers, whispering in your ear how beautiful you were. How familiar he smelled.
How you had told yourself that this was home.
Home was here. It had always been.
You pulled away slightly, watched him, chin resting on his chest. He looked down too, smiling softly, before leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.
You could do with that, this as your home for the rest of your life.
The music stopped, you still hadn't time to separate, when a hand tapped your shoulder.
Looking behind you, fingers still in Seunghyun's hand, you saw a woman with a slicked bun.
"I was told you created... these pieces?"
The woman pointed with her long, manicured fingers at the dresses, all of them your creations. Soo-yeon watched you from afar, giving you a friendly wave and a wink. You blushed.
"I... Yes?"
The woman smiled slyly.
"It’s awful."
You froze, and Seunghyun shot her a dark look, starting to pull you away, but a small laugh, reminiscent of a cat's purr, cut through the air.
"Awful that we didn’t meet sooner!"
Your eyes widened.
"I am DIANE."
She was there, her face stern yet not too wrinkled, eyes like a lynx’s, lips tight. She extended a hand toward you.
"I’m looking for apprentices. Here, in Paris."
Seunghyun’s hand never left yours, tightening around it, encouraging you to listen.
"I’ve been told you’re quick and efficient, but I don’t take that on faith. I’m offering you a trial period. We’ll cover twenty percent of your rent and give you a salary. If it works out, I’ll keep you for a year, and after we’ve created a collection together, you’ll fly on your own."
Was it a dream? Seunghyun's fingers squeezed yours. Oh.
"Can I... think about it?"
DIANE wrinkled her nose but gave a small sigh, extending her hand.
"Fine. I’ll give you my number."
You took your phone from your small bag, opened the phone app. She sighed when you took too long, but finally, she entered her digits and handed it to you, making it ring. Then, she smirked confidently.
"See you soon."
As soon as she walked away, Seunghyun twirled you in the air. But when he let you go, you bit your lower lip.
"What’s wrong? You should be jumping for joy!"
You burst into tears again, wrapping yourself in his arms.
"I don’t want to leave! I want to be with you! But I also want to try!"
He remained thoughtful for a moment, then took your hand and played with each of your fingers for a while before letting your hand fall. "We had problems," he repeated. "With the group. Big Bang."
You tilted your head. "And?"
His gaze darkened. "It’s probably the end."
You held him tight, worried. "Really? And so what?" you asked, your voice trembling against his chest.
He pulled back slightly to see your face, placed a quick kiss on your forehead. "We can try. A year."
You took a moment to understand. A what? A year of-
"You mean-"
He nodded. "I need a long vacation, time to rebuild myself before rapping again. And you need this opportunity. So, maybe..."
You let go of everything you were holding, crashed your lips to his, pulled back feverishly, then kissed him again.
"Yes!" You exclaimed. "A thousand times yes! I’m so happy, I..."
You looked at him tenderly, and he too leaned in. The world felt gentle.
"I love you," you whispered. "I love you so so so so much, Seunghyun. I’ve always loved you."
He smiled and kissed you again.
"Me too. I love you," he caught your hand, palm to the sky, and closed each fingers one by one, starting with the thumb, "a little", then your index finger, "a lot", then your middle finger, "passionately", then your ring finger, "madly". Then your pinky.
You pouted. "Hey, the last one is 'not at all'!"
He laughed, kissed you. "No, the last one, it’s both of us, forever. Madly, passionately."
The moon shone high.
"Because you are my Moonbird. A fragment of happiness."
His lips found yours again.
"Forever."
You smiled.
Yeah. This was home. You could do with that.
if you read until there hiii ily! please lmk what you think <3 I hope you have enjoyed it! (it's very much a rom-com atp😭)
also my divider doesn't exist rendered. pain
tag list: @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @sevendaysummer @gdinthehouseee @eru-vande @bluesunss @emmiesoverthemoon @petersasteria @currentloser @makeitworse @berfgrimm @sherxoo @aizshallnotbefound @keiraryan
This is a short one inspired by the lovely @wcnderlnds
Pairing: Choi Seunghyun x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.6K
Trigger Warnings: Fluff, teeensy bit of angst
Enjoy x
