Sheets of rain came down over the bustling city streets, covering windshields and shop windows, making the normally clear windows blurry and passing people appear indistinct, diffusing into their surroundings. These were the kind of days Isis looked forward to because they typically meant cuddling in bed with Junhong and watching old episodes of Dragonball Z, but lately she’d grown to dread this kind of weather. She didn’t know, or cared to find out, how her father got her phone number, seeing as he rarely called her anyway. However, he made it a habit to call her every time it stormed. Never asking about her well-being but always correlating her success as a daughter to the amount of money she loaned him. Isis stared at the water running down the living room window. She traced a single drop as it made its way across the window with a wistful look in her eye. ‘How does it feel to be free of expectations and judgement? How does it feel to just… be?’ Isis looked over at her battered android, anxiety creeping into her heart.

‘Maybe he won’t call today.’

Junhong opened the door to the apartment, half-expecting to see Isis curled up on the sofa with a book and a bottle of water. But he was surprised to find the living room clean and organized, free of her presence. Junhong would have thought it was uninhabited if he didn’t smell Isis’s perfume in the air. He hesitated before tossing his briefcase on the sofa next to what Isis had turned into her own little nook for reading and napping. It was nothing more than an organized compilation of thermal blankets and pillows on a daybed, but the little lanterns and succulents she set up around it made it look like she designed it with more thought. If Junhong hadn’t witnessed its ‘construction,’ he would have thought the same. Junhong took another look at their apartment. It was small, but it was home. He couldn’t really explain how, but there was a warmness and comfort that welcomed him when he walked through the doors after work. Here he could finally slow down and enjoy his surroundings, without the constant nagging of his brain reminding him of things that needed to be done, calls that must be made, and meetings to be had before he can even make it to his office door. It was so much to take on at once, and sometimes he had to remember to take a breath in between tasks. Junhong let out a yawn as the fatigue from today washed over him. He frowned at his drenched dress shirt and slacks, evidence of the day’s exhaustion, still clinging to his lean frame. ‘I need to get out of this monkey suit, and into something a little less… stifling,’ he thought while loosening his tie. Junhong padded down the hallway, and smiled to himself. His eyes, unchanging in their search, always find the pictures of him and Isis that decorated the otherwise bland hallway. He remembered every detail about their pictures. From the big things like where and when they were taken to the smallest things like the reason they were even at those places. Junhong’s walk slowed to a stop as his eyes fell on a much more memorable photo. It was the very first photo he took of Isis. His smile widened as he unconsciously moved closer to it. Junhong remembered that day perfectly:

He was trying to take baby pictures for an affluent family, but the phone hadn’t stopped ringing since he entered the studio, people kept trying to have walk-in appointments with him, the parents of the newborn were doing nothing to keep their child in the shooting area, and to top it all off the little bundle of joy decided to chew on his sleeve. He tried his best to get it done, but he could tell the parents were getting impatient. The last straw came when the family accused him of being unprofessional because he took a two minute breather to get his thoughts together; he overheard them say they should take their business elsewhere. To which Junhong politely apologized, then offered to recommend some nearby studios. The couple looked taken aback by his forwardness, but accepted his recommendations anyway. Junhong was so relieved that they left quietly, even though he heard them muttering about telling their associates, that he took a seat and gazed at the passing traffic. He ignored the phones, and he didn’t take any walk-in appointments. Right now he just wanted to sit down and think of nothing. 

“You do realize that you just let the Kims walk out of the studio right?”

Junhong rubbed his eyes. Then looked at his best friend and business partner.

“I know Jongup. I’ll deal with it later, Right now I just need a break.”

Jongup silently agreed. Today hadn’t been the best day for Junhong as far as photographer-client interactions.

Junhong stood up and stretched.

“I’m going to that bubble tea shop on the corner. I’ll be back in 30.”

“Alright man, go get some fresh air. I think I can squeeze in an episode of Naruto if I make it past the front desk without getting flagged down,” Jongup whispered to his younger co-worker.

Junhong chuckled as he watched the guy with a masters in graphic design tip toe behind the reception desk and make a mad dash to his office before locking himself away in it. It was the first time he had laughed all day. He exited the busy studio thankful for the immediate change in atmosphere. The leaves were changing and there was a pleasant crispness in the air that he only associated with his favorite time of the year. Autumn. Junhong moseyed down the busy sidewalk, not really in a hurry for his break to be over, and by the time he reached the boba shop he had taken a few photos of the scenery. Along with clearing his head of the day’s scrapes, his overall emotional state was 10xs better so he didn’t really mind the rather long line once he was inside the shop. He took his place behind a fairly tall woman with navy blue hair. She was listening to “Over” by Drake, and Junhong only knew this because he could hear it through her earbuds. He nodded along with her as each subsequent song came on. ‘She has great taste in music,’ he thought as he tapped his feet to the beat. He was enjoying it so much that he almost whined when she paused it to order her tea.

“I’d like one pineapple bubble tea please.”

Junhong’s ears tingled as her voice coated his eardrums. It was earthy and elegant, pleasing to the ears and welcoming to the people around her. Junhong found himself shuffling a little closer just to hear it again, banking that she would thank the cashier for her order. But what he didn’t plan on, was for her to take a step back. Junhong felt her heel increase the pressure on his foot and let out a little wince as he silently said goodbye to his big toe. As fate would have it she dropped a coin on the floor and looked over at him just in time to see his face scrunched up in pain.

“Oh my goodness are you okay?”

Junhong gave her the best smile he could muster up in his current state.

“Yeah, you just stepped on my toe,” he grimaced through his smile.

“Dear God, I’m so sorry. Do I need to call an ambul— no that’s too much? Do I need to find a first aid kit?”

Junhong laughed and shook his head. Noting how the worry in her voice made it get progressively lower with each passing second. It was barely above a whisper, and for a second Junhong thought that she was afraid of ruining the quietness of the shop. But then he realized it was a Friday. The place was packed.

“No need, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure,” she asked looking up at Junhong.

Junhong opened his mouth to say yes, but nothing came out. His brain was too busy processing that he had been stepped on by a goddess. She had skin like honey, and it glowed like the sun was radiating from her core. She had full lips with the subtlest shade of pink lining the inside of them, and her eyes were so brown that Junhong could only tell from the stark contrast of her jet black eyelashes that they were not black.

“Excuse me? Did you hear me?”

Junhong blinked to see her looking up at him worry creasing her forehead.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he answered rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well at least let me buy your tea for you. I feel terrible,” she frowned making her stunning features even more adorable.

“No worries. It was a mistake. It isn’t like this is the worst thing to happen today,” Junhong muttered.

“Well, let me make this a good thing. Go ahead and order what you want.”

Junhong watched her walk to the register and tell the cashier what he assumed was what she told him. He took his place and thanked the heavens that he was the last person in line. The last thing he needed was people cussing him out for holding up the line.

“Go ahead with your order sir.”

Junhong looked over the menu and quickly settled for an old favorite.

“I’ll have a strawberry bubble tea.”

The cashier simply nodded before punching in the order and totaling it out.

“Your total will be 4,150 won.”

Junhong went to reach in his pocket, but froze when he saw the cashier accepting money from the goddess that crushed his big toe.

“I told you this one was on me,” she reiterated for him as she handed him the beverage.

“Thank you so much…,” Junhong trailed off, “I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

“Isis. My name is Isis.”

“Isis,” he whispered to himself.

He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

Junhong smiled at the memory. Fast forward three years, his small photography studio doubled in size and he was very much in love with the goddess that stepped on his foot in a bubble tea shop 3 years prior. Isis always cringed when he tells people how they met, and she argued Junhong tooth and nail that she was not a goddess among ‘mere mortals.’ In fact she was quick to remind him of all her flaws, which he needed no help remembering. He was well aware of her clumsiness and her lack of depth perception that only amplified the previous flaw. He also knew that she had really poor motor skills if preoccupied with her thoughts, and her voice wavered whenever she had to speak in front of large groups of people. Oh yes, Junhong encountered all of these flaws; yet, he knew better than anyone that gods and goddesses were not perfect by a long shot. If divine beings were graded on perfection none would exist. They were made by their willpower and ambition. Divineness was achieved through a person’s interactions with other people. When Junhong met Isis, he was engaged by her beauty yet what made him fall in love with her was her personality. He had never met anyone so selfless and caring. Of course she made sure he was okay when she stepped on his toe, but as he got to know her more, Junhong realized that her actions go beyond common courtesy. Isis worked nights as a bartender to put herself through graduate school, and her days were spent tutoring elementary kids in various subjects. Her weekends were pretty much the same save for she was also on call for the local crisis and suicide prevention center. So as you could imagine, Junhong was just impressed that she hadn’t passed out from exhaustion yet.

He tossed his wet dress shirt and equally damp dress pants into the hamper, trading the formal clothes for something more comfortable. Junhong shrugged on a t-shirt and sweatpants, mentally going through his schedule for Monday. He picked up his cellphone to double check his appointments when he noticed the time. It was 6:00, but Isis was nowhere to be found. Junhong tried not to be irrational, but Isis always told him when she was running late. It wasn’t like her to stay out in weather like this. His eyes looked out at the storm engulfing the city. The wind was picking up and the rain was coming down in ropes. He quickly swiped across her name on his phone, worry clearly winning out over being rational.

---

Isis leaned back against the bath tub as she tried, and failed, to will herself to stop crying. She was stronger than this. She was stronger than the insults her father threw at her. She was stronger than everything he told her she couldn’t be. Isis knew this to be fact, but it didn’t stop the tears from carving new pathways on her normally serene face. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she whispered to herself, “How could I be so stupid?”

Isis hiccupped and wanted nothing more than to throw her ty phone in the toilet. Lately it brought her more hell than happiness. But she couldn’t. That phone linked her to all the girls struggling to find their worth, and all the children working to learn their place in this world. More than anything, it connected her to Junhong. The love of her life. At the mere thought of him, she rose to her feet and grabbed a rag off the shelf. She ran cold water over it and wringed it out before placing it under her cheeks. She didn’t want him worrying about her as soon as he got home. Isis knows that he caught just as much hell as her at work. He didn’t need any more weight on his shoulders than he already had. She was a big girl. She can shoulder her own problems. Isis got up to run more cold water on the now lukewarm rag, forgetting that her ringer was still on. She was in the middle of wringing the rag out when she heard Amel Larrieux’s comforting voice singing “No One Else.” She dropped the rag and tried to silence her phone as quickly as possible, praying that Junhong was only calling to tell her he was on the way home, but her stomach churned when she heard three short raps on the door as soon as she turned it off.

“Isis are you in there?”

She silently cursed herself for being so careless and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She looked… terrible. There were no tearstains on her face, but any fool with eyes could tell she was crying. She would have cussed again if it hadn’t been for her hiccups and Junhong knocking on the door again.

“Isis, baby let me in?”

“Give me just a second. I’m washing my hands,” she called back trying not to sound too broken.

Junhong closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against the door. Isis had on her “I’m really not okay, but I don’t want you to know/ worry about it” voice. He could count on his hand the number of times he had encountered that voice, and every time she managed to evade his questions with volunteer work or an extra shift at the bar. All those other times she was on the go, only seeing him in passing. Fleeting moments that made Junhong want to pull her close and protect her from whatever demons were trying to make a home in her mind. Because though he only saw her for a quick moment, the look in her eyes told him that she needed someone to tell her she was doing great, that she was becoming someone she could be proud of. However, today was different. Today Isis was home alone when they attacked. Alone without anything to keep her mind preoccupied.

“Isis, I need to see you.”

Isis ran a hand through the curly mane on her head. She didn’t want him seeing her like this.

“Just a moment.”

“I look a mess,” she added hoping it would buy her a few more minutes.

Junhong folded his arms, knowing a red herring when he saw one.

“I don’t care how you look. I haven’t talked to my beautiful girlfriend all day.”

Isis chewed on the inside of her cheek, debating on whether or not to let him in. Junhong sensed her internal struggle.

“Love please open the door,” he begged as he sagged against the door frame, “I missed you so much today.”

 Isis walked towards the door and stopped. Still hesitant.

“Please…”

“Please just... just let me in.”

Her hand twisted the knob, and she slowly opened the door making sure she stayed behind it. Junhong didn’t anticipate Isis trying to hide from him. Isis wasn’t expecting Junhong to sidestep the door and wrap her in his embrace. They were both surprised when she started crying again. Isis couldn’t explain it. It was like the weight of the world had been temporarily lifted when she was in his arms. The weight of trying to be everything to everyone, and still try to find the time to take care of herself, dissipated when her head was on his shoulder and his chest flushed against hers. Junhong held her close until her shoulders stopped shaking and her eyes no longer left tearstains on his shirt. All that remained were her hiccups and her exhaustion. Junhong moved her hair back to kiss her forehead. Isis wiped her tears, and gave him a weary smile.

“How was work today,” she asked, trying to sound happier, but only succeeding in making Junhong worry more.

“I don’t want to talk about work,” he began.

Isis’s hands started to clam up, ‘He’s going to ask me what happened.’

“I just want to nap with you in my arms,” he finished, kissing her on the forehead again.

Isis let out a shaky breath and wiped her hands on her basketball shorts. She wanted nothing more than to lie in his arms and think of nothing. So she let him lead her to their queen-sized mattress. She let him pull the covers over them, and she let him gather her in his arms. She could even let herself fall asleep to the rise and fall of his chest, but she just couldn’t let him in.

Junhong listened to her steady breathing as his mind raced with possibilities. He needed to know what made Isis want to lock herself away and cry alone. He needed to know how many times she’s cried alone, and he needed to know the cause of her tears. Junhong looked down at Isis. She was completely still in his arms, the small snores leaving her slightly parted lips the only indication that she was asleep. She was one of the few people in his life that never asked him for anything aside from his love. Isis never expected him to be her personal therapist or listen to her personal problems, and in Junhong’s eyes that was a problem. He was her boyfriend. He wanted to love all of her, even the parts of her that she thought he couldn’t. As if she could hear his thoughts, Isis let out a sigh of relief as her legs intertwined with his.

After two hours of pondering the mysteries of Isis, Junhong felt her stir against his chest. He chuckled as he heard her grumble, knowing all too well that it will be followed by her stretching and flopping on his chest. True to her nature, Isis rolled onto her back and stretched out beside Junhong. Then she returned to his side where she buried her head in his chest. She didn’t want to wake up just yet. The warmth of Junhong’s embrace made everything okay, even if it was just for a few moments. Isis pressed her ear up against Junhong’s chest and let the sound of his heartbeat wash over her, its steady rhythm keeping her demons at bay and granting her a brief moment of peace. Junhong hummed as he Isis’s shoulder, still trying to figure out how to get her to open up.

“Jun,” Isis whispered breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yes, love?”

“I…,” she trailed off, “I’m good enough aren’t I?”

Junhong stopped her shoulder, confused by the sudden question.

“What are you talking about?”

“Constantly trying to make up for being an inconvenience to my parents and proving to my family that they didn’t waste their time supporting me financially, they don’t make me good enough do they?”

Junhong looked down at Isis to see her eyes welling up, and his breath caught in the back of his throat.

“I’m a graduate student struggling to keep everything together while trying to prove my worth to someone that hasn’t cared about me since I outgrew my Pull Ups,” she choked out, “I’m constantly looking for things that I could do better, ways I can make myself less of a burden to people I care about. I got a job, and I started volunteering to keep myself busy. But what good does it do if I end up crying on the bathroom floor?”

Junhong instinctively pulled her closer as she sniffled, his brain trying to calculate how many times she’s had these thoughts.

“All of their time, money, advice… everything they gave me in hopes of me doing something amazing, was for nothing. What good does it do to have a support system if you end up being a burden or a failure? If you end up like me,” Isis’s voice cracked as she struggled to get her sentence out.

“Isis,” Junhong began.

Isis looked up at him through tired eyes, eyes that were desperate to show something other than sadness and weariness.

“I have no idea who did it, but you have been broken. You bent yourself into painful shapes that are so small they cut off any oxygen trying to get to your brain. I don’t know what old fears you are trying to avoid, but you’re suffocating,” Junhong felt a tear slide down his face,” I see you fading away, love, and I can’t handle you being a shell. I need you full of life and happiness.”

“It’s so hard being happy. I feel like I’m constantly fighting for the few pieces of joy I have in my life, and I get so tired sometimes, Jun, that I feel like giving in,” Isis confessed through her tears.

“I need you to talk to me, love. You are constantly fighting for everything you love by yourself when you don’t have to. You have me here with you. I won’t let anything or anyone destroy you, the woman I love, or anything important to you. I will go to war to protect the beautiful person you are inside,” Junhong promised as he wiped a tear from Isis’s face, “But I can only do that if you let me.”

Isis looked up at Junhong, her eyes searching for any signs of uncertainty or hesitation on his face. She couldn’t find any; yet she still couldn’t bring herself to tell him everything that’s been happening in the past few months. She didn’t want to put her emotions at the mercy of anyone else, even if that person was Junhong.

“I can’t leave myself open again, Jun. I can’t be vulnerable anymore. The consequences greatly outnumber the benefits, and,” she took a deep breath, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to recover a second time if I do.”

“Who did this to you? Who hurt you so much that you are constantly sheltering your emotions? Who’s the coward that couldn’t love you without turning thoughts of vulnerability and love,” Junhong gritted his teeth, “ugly?”

“What do you mean love and vulnerability,” Isis asked sitting up, “I am perfectly capable of loving. You know that Jun.”

“No I don’t love. I only know that I love you,” Junhong admitted, “I’ve bared my soul multiple times to you, and every time you have been there to cover it and keep me safe. But I’ve never done that for you. We’ve been together for almost four years, but you still love me with a guarded heart. There’s still so much that I don’t know about you. At times you’re so much of a mystery that it feels like I’m living with a beautiful stranger, and I find myself in endless fear that I’m going to come home one day and find you gone without as much as a goodbye. But that fear, though it’s always present in the back of mind, never stops me from loving you wholeheartedly. Because, love is vulnerability.”

Isis played with the hem of her shirt as she listened to Junhong’s heartbreaking confession. She knew his intention wasn’t to make her feel guilty, but she had been letting Junhong do all the emotional heavy lifting in their relationship, without considering her own role. They were supposed to be growing together.

“Jun how could you love me when there’s a chance that I could be gone any day now? How could I love you if there’s a chance that you can stop loving me?”

“Because,” Junhong lifted Isis’s chin, “Even if you decided that you wanted to leave me tomorrow. I got the chance to love you as much as I could today. I know that you got the chance to experience all of me, and there was no part of me left undiscovered. Of course it would break my heart, but I got to love you and grow with you even if it was only for a day.”

Isis could feel fresh tears forming in her eyes as she listened to Junhong. It was clear that he loved her with a passion that couldn’t be dampened by what ifs and maybes, and Isis wanted nothing more than to love Junhong just as fiercely, if not fiercer.

“I want to love like that,” she rasped, her voice hoarse from the constant crying, “But I don’t know how. I don’t know how to let myself be vulnerable.”

“Hmm… how about we start with physical vulnerability,” Junhong suggested.

Isis cocked her head to the side.

“You’ve seen me a thousand times Junhong. What are you talking about?”

“No I haven’t seen you completely ,” he answered, “I’ve seen you without clothes.”

“What’s the difference,” Isis shrugged.

“Why don’t we find out? Go to the bathroom and get undressed. Then come back and sit back on the bed.”

Isis simply got off the bed and padded to the bathroom. She closed the door and immediately started peeling off her clothes. Her shorts and pooled at her feet while she slipped off her shirt and bra. When she was finished, she gathered everything into a pile and stood in front of the mirror. She took in her figure, and the way her eyes threatened to say everything her lips wouldn’t. She had never felt so bare. ‘Is this what Jun meant when he said he wanted to see me ,” she thought as she traced her cheekbones with delicate fingers.

Junhong patiently waited for Isis to return. He didn’t expect her to come out immediately; so he was surprised to see her peeking from behind the door around ten minutes later.

“Come on out love,” Junhong cajoled in gentle whispers.

Isis suddenly felt inexplicably strange. Junhong has seen her before, but she still didn’t want to leave the bathroom.

“Do I have to do this Jun? I feel so… unarmed and exposed.”

“It’s just me,” he reminded her, “I’ve seen you so many times without clothes, love. Don’t you trust me?”

Isis inched out of the bathroom. Her steps hurried and unsure. Once she was on the bed she tried to cover up with a sheet, to which Junhong promptly told her no. So she sat there squirming on the bed stark while her fully-clothed boyfriend told her about his day at work. It was one of the most uncomfortable conversations she had ever had with him.

“Jun what’s the point of this,” Isis interrupted just as he was about to talk about his ride home.

“What are you talking about love,” Junhong asked feigning ignorance.

“This,” she said gesturing to her body, “What is the point of making me feel like this?”

“You’re experiencing love from my point of view,” Junhong informed her.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m always baring everything in front of you, but you are always clothed in something. Whether it be your pride or your fears, I can never truly see you at your purest form. As this,” he said her arm, “but with your heart instead.”

Isis grabbed his hand and brought it to her face. She leaned into the warmth of his hand, and looked into his eyes. Just as he was about to look away, Junhong saw it. The part of her that was left unguarded, and Junhong tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. He had no details, but he saw enough pain and disappointment to know that her lack of vulnerability was something done out of self-preservation. Not because she never wanted to love anyone.

“How did you manage to love me through all this mess?”

Junhong’s thumb wiped away the tear on Isis’s face.

“Because I found the person fighting to keep everything together, despite falling apart themselves, worth loving. I found the person you are inside, the person you are trying so hard to protect, though I never got the opportunity to see her more than a few moments throughout our relationship, so frighteningly beautiful that I decided she was worth fighting for. I decided that I was going to love all of you. Even if you couldn’t reciprocate. But you did to the best of your ability.”

“I really do love you Jun,” Isis confessed, “You’re the first person I’ve been afraid to lose in a long time. So I hid the parts of me I thought were unworthy of love. I hid my family issues and insecurities. I cried as quietly as I could if you were here with me. I tried so hard to cover any nasty scars thinking that’s what you wanted.”

“I don’t want a fabrication of the woman you think I want. I just want you. You with all your beauty and the flaws to match. I don’t think a single day goes by that I don’t find myself in love with the person you are. Because there is not a single part of you that I find unworthy of my love and devotion,” Junhong said before placing a tender kiss on her lips.

 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this slightly morbid(?) oneshot. If you didn't know already, I'm B.A.P. trash. So it's only natural you would get another one sooner or later. Feel free to comment, upvote, and subscribe. Thank you for reading!!

- Jupiter >.<