[title song: bts - i need u]

chapter 18;

Hyemi tilts her head back until she’s staring straight up at the golden doors engraved with that familiar symbol she’s seen so many times.  It’s made of a series of squares and she can’t quite figure out what it’s supposed to be. She feels a presence beyond the door and her heart won’t stop banging against her chest.

There’s a gentle pressure against her shoulder and she tears her eyes away from the door, eyes locking with Kyungsoo’s large ones.

“You okay?” He asks, his eyes flickering over her face. There’s something about the way he’s watching her that seems wary. He appears as if he’s done this before, done this for someone too many times, and he knows how this will all end. She nods at Kyungsoo, fiddling idly with the bracelet Baekhyun had given her, what feels like a lifetime ago.

Kyungsoo nods and doesn’t bother questioning her. Instead he places a hand on the door and closes his eyes.

She doesn’t expect him to speak, his eyes still closed as he faces the door. “Don’t beat yourself up over what happened to Baekhyun.”

“I—”

“Accidents happen, Hyemi.” Kyungsoo interrupts, suddenly opening his eyes. Slowly, he tilts his head and gives Hyemi an incredibly stern look and it’s so motherly that it makes her smile in amusement. The corner of Kyungsoo’s full lips turn up just a bit, relief in his eyes, before he reaches into his pocket and digs through it, eyebrows furrowed. “Accidents happen.”

Hyemi wishes she could find comfort in his words, but she can’t.

Instead, she watches, curiously, as he pulls out a black lump of a rock. With one palm outstretched, Kyungsoo other hand hovers over a few inches above the lump and slowly twirls his fingers. His movements are not as graceful as Sehun’s when he had manipulated air pressure, they’re careful and constructed, as if he’s drawing a stiff and formal form of Chinese characters with each drag of his fingers, rather than a scripture of more delicate loops and twirls. With each drag of his fingers, the black lump begins to morph, pinching and shaping exactly the way Kyungsoo wills it. Hyemi watches as the lump of metal morphs into a key, unusual grooves running along the bottom.

“Woah.” She mumbles. “You’re a metal bender.”

Kyungsoo snorts. “That’s one way to put it.” He says as he places the key into a small hold just below the symbol engraved into the door. “Rocks are more my thing, though. It took a while to learn the metal thing.”

“Earthbender, then?” Hyemi corrects, raising a brow.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes this time and she laughs at his expression.

Before Hyemi can add anything, Kyungsoo turns the key and runs his hands along the golden door. Suddenly, he stops his movements and Hyemi blinks in surprise when Kyungsoo starts jabbing at certain points of the door. There’s no banging noise, his touch feather-light and incredibly quick, but strong. She realizes that it is graceful, just not in the traditional sense of the word.

And then Kyungsoo steps back, glancing at Hyemi. He waves in front of him, “Just step through.”

So she does, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Kyungsoo joins her.

~.~.~.~.~

The King’s Room isn’t like anything Hyemi had expected. She half expected something horrifying. Instead, she finds herself in an incredibly mundane looking room, furniture sparse and everything strangely tidy. There are white curtains covering a giant window that stretches across the length of one of the walls and Hyemi warily eyes the way one of the curtain quivers in the light breeze, the balcony door open. Sunlight filters through the opening and illuminates the room, giving it an airy and comfortable feel. There is a single framed picture on the wall, on top of the dresser, and Hyemi immediately recognizes Jia’s pretty face smiling serenely over the room. There’s a table in the corner scattered with documents and ink, but it’s still very organized. The only messy thing about the room is the bed. The covers are rumpled and look slept in.

Hyemi blinks, looking around before glancing back at Kyungsoo, who’s leaning against the wall beside the door with his arms crossed over his chest, for help of some kind.

It’s silent for a good minute and Hyemi wonders where the hell the King is, when a soft static sound fills the room. It starts off as a faint buzzing before it starts to get louder and louder, like a fly buzzing closer and closer to her ear. The hairs at the back of Hyemi’s neck stand on end and it feels like the whole room is being filled with some kind of current.

And then there’s a burst of bright blinding red light.

Hyemi ducks behind her arm, shielding her eyes from the burning light.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” A deep voice rumbles, not sounding pleased at all.

She slowly drops her arm to her side and straightens up, her breathing hitching with barely suppressed anxiety when she lays eyes on him.

The King. King Sungyeol.

He’s older, much older, his skin pale and slightly wrinkled. He’s still regally handsome, but he also looks as if he’s in pain, as if he’s been in pain for years upon years, and it greatly affects his demeanor. There’s a large gash that runs straight down the right side of his face. His hair is sprinkled mixture of black and gray and Hyemi can’t help but notice the trembling in his fingers, beneath the sleeves of his black outfit. There’s something about the image of him that’s strange to Hyemi. He seems almost fractured to her, as if he’s not fully there. His eyes, however, are the same. They’re just as dark and calculating as Hyemi remembers from her visions and she clenches her fists at the sight.

His eyes watch her the same exact way and it pisses her off.

He sits down at the edge of his bed, his gaze drifting down to her clenched fist. He gives her an amused look, eyes flickering back up to scan her face. “And why is our little vessel angry, hmm sweetheart?”

“Shut up.” Hyemi snaps back immediately, wrinkling her nose. “I’m not your sweetheart.”

“Funny.” He replies, barking out a sharp laugh. “That’s exactly what your mother said to me the last time I saw her.”

Hyemi wants to punch the smirk off his face. She doesn’t even care that he’s older than her, that she's been raised to respect her elders. But she doesn't punch his face in. Not when Kyungsoo is suddenly behind her and pulling her back by the shoulder, grip tightening in warning or consolation, she isn’t quite sure.

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother.” Hyemi retorts, shrugging Kyungsoo’s hand off her shoulder.

“Oh~” Sungyeol raises a brow, his mouth dropping into a small ‘o’. “Why not?” Sungyeol tilts his head, regal, stoic face morphing into an expression of dark mirth that frankly terrifies Hyemi in its intensity. His eyes harden into flint and Hyemi realizes she’s somehow pissed him off. “It’s not like you ever knew her, am I right, sweetheart?”

“I—”

“As a matter of fact,” Sungyeol interrupts, pushing himself off the bed. He reaches for the cane that’s leaning against his bed post and uses it to steady himself as he steps towards Hyemi, his dark eyes piercing as it remains fixed on her, shadows falling across his face, sharpening his features. “If I recall correctly, you were the one who killed your mother.”

“Because of you.” Hyemi responds, immediately. If this was a couple days ago, she would have backed down. She would have been filled with guilt. But this time, she realizes he’s trying to break her in his own warped, ed up kind of way. So she buries the lingering guilt away and crosses her arms, refusing to back away when Sungyeol steps right in front of her, cold anger radiating off of him. “Because you couldn’t let her live in peace with her family.”

“The vessel of the tree isn’t allowed to have a family.”

“See? It’s that right there that pisses me off.” Hyemi tells him, glaring. “You don’t own her. And you sure as hell don’t own me.”

Anger burns in his eyes and Hyemi tenses when Sungyeol lowers his voice, his intense gaze burning holes through her head.

“If she played by my rules. If she did as she was told, then I wouldn’t have had to watch her burn that night. I wouldn’t have had to watch everything and everyone I’ve ever given a about burn to ing hell that night.” Sungyeol’s voice is soft, tone rippling with anger and something else Hyemi can’t quite place.

And, frankly, she doesn’t give a about trying to figure out what that emotion is either. She doesn’t care if he feels some kind of remorse, because judging from all the memories she’s witnessed, he sure as hell hadn’t felt remorse then.

“Don’t.” Hyemi scowls at him, nails digging into the palms of her hands. “Don’t act like you cared about her.” Hyemi feels anger rush through her veins, along with a blinding rush of her powers, her veins burning, but she’s too exhausted, physically and spiritually, from earlier for the power to truly run free. She’s too exhausted to fully lash out the way her body wants to.

Hyemi remembers what she had saw in that balcony room that her mother had been locked away in, she remembers the hand clawing and banging at the bathroom door, the broken glass and chairs spread across the floor, the crying, and Hyemi’s heart twists in her chest. Angry tears fill her eyes but she refuses to let them fall, instead fully turning her rage on the King. “You…you locked her away in your ing tower like some kind of toy. You touched her without her permission, you selfish piece of . God ing knows what else you did to her. So she ran. She ran from this miserable life and you tried to drag her back for a tree. And now you’re telling me you’re upset about it? You’re a monster.”

Sungyeol stares at Hyemi for a good minute, before he breaks into a sly, amused little grin. And then he steps forward with each sentence that leaves his mouth, “Let’s get one thing straight, sweetheart. I’ve never cared about your mother. She was just a good fu—”

Smack.

Hyemi slaps him, then, stopping those words from leaving his mouth, Kyungsoo too slow to stop her, his hand grabbing her arm too late. Sungyeol’s head snaps to the side and his jaw clenches as he reaches up to rub his reddening cheek. Hyemi’s palm stings with the force of her slap but she thinks he’s lucky Kyungsoo is holding her back from throwing another hit.

“Is that any way to treat your elder and your king?” Sungyeol mumbles, jaw still clenched and face still turned away from Hyemi.

Hyemi snorts and Sungyeol noticeably tenses.

“After I help you, no, after I help Kris, stop whatever war is brewing out there and fix this damn tree.” Hyemi begins, voice soft but cold with fury. “I am going home.” Hyemi watches with unwavering eyes as Sungyeol slowly turns to look down at her, dark eyes narrowed. She holds his gaze, gaze steady. “If you try to stop me, I will kill you like my mother meant to. I don’t ing care who you are. You don’t deserve my respect and I will kill you.”

“How will a little girl like you kill a monster like me?” Sungyeol asks, tilting his head, smirk dripping from his mouth. “Will you tear me apart like you almost did to that Byun kid? Who’s the real monster here, sweetheart, can you tell me that?”

Hyemi doesn’t let him see the effect those words have on her, how they hurt her because somewhere in the back of her mind that’s exactly what she thinks of herself for hurting Baekhyun. She doesn’t want to know how he knows about what had happened in the hallway, but she hates how Sungyeol always seems to have a way with finding words that will stick the most.

Hyemi looks at him for a moment, observing his shivering fingers and his frail, sickly demeanor. Then she meets his gaze with hard, cold eyes.

 “You’re right. You’re just a bitter old man.” Hyemi watches the way his eyes narrow slightly, enjoying the reaction she’s prying out of him. She enjoys the way her words can cause such reactions in people, she’s noticed. Hyemi’s eyes flicker to the framed photo over the dresser and her mind reels. “You just like to trap people into toxic relationships with you because you know they won’t love you otherwise.” She tells him, blatantly staring at the photograph of Jia as she speaks.

Jia was his wife and her mother’s best friend. Hyemi fleetingly wonders how that had ended in Jia being memorialized by a single portrait hanging above the King’s dresser.

She barely gets a chance to blink when he drops the cane with a dull, resonating thud.

He’s suddenly hovering over her, fingers curling around , tight enough to leave bruises and block her breathing. She grasps at his tightening fingers, her feet swinging a bit in the air when he slams her back against the wall, and she tries to dig her nails into the flesh of the back of his hand, clawing at his tightening grip. Why did she have to go and piss off the old muscular angry man?

“Incredible.” He growls, eyes darkening as the tips of his fingers begin to warm up against Hyemi’s skin, slightly burning her. “You’re just as annoying as your ing mother.”

Kyungsoo looks distraught over Sungyeol’s shoulder, as if he’s torn between whether or not he should slam his boss and king out the window or let him carry on while he looks the other way. Eventually, he speaks up, eyes wide and wary, “Um, sir.” Kyungsoo calls out, “The council wants her alive. You’re, um, choking her.”

Hyemi wants to snort at his observation, because obviously, but her breathing begins to become labored and she fights to breathe through her nose. She’s not about to ask Sungyeol to stop like he wants her to. She’s known to be stubborn for a reason.

Sungyeol doesn’t even acknowledge Kyungsoo’s words, his grip tightening around . Hyemi gasps, miraculously managing to jam her fingers between and his hand, effectively allowing herself leeway to push his fingers away a bit and breathe. His fingers burn unnaturally against her skin and her eyes widen as she looks up at him. Then she narrows her eyes, still attempting to pull him away.

“Go ahead. Use your powers.” She gasps out, looking him straight in the eye. Then she returns the same smirk he’s been constantly using on her, despite her circumstances, she just can’t help it. “Oh, wait. You’ll just implode and hurt yourself, won’t you? It won’t hurt me at all, will it, sir?”

Sungyeol slams Hyemi into the wall one last time, pain shooting up and down her back as she sputters for air, before he pulls away completely. Hyemi leans against the wall, her hand caressing her own definitely bruised throat tenderly. Strangely enough, she feels no fear when Sungyeol turns and kicks a wooden chair across the room. It slams into his dresser and glass bottles topple to the ground, some of them crashing open and spilling out something that smells like incredibly strong alcohol. She’s unafraid when he turns to look at her, somehow already halfway across the room, hands clenched around his bedpost, and says, in a calm, mocking tone, “I’ll be waiting for the day you try to go home, sweetheart. Maybe then I can teach you a lesson on respecting your elders.”

She doesn’t get the chance to respond, not when Kyungsoo hooks his arm through hers and pulls her out of the room, bowing slightly to Sungyeol on his way out.

Hyemi opens to retort and Kyungsoo promptly shoves a hand over , “Shut up.” He groans and she mumbles grumpy incoherent words into the palm of his hand.

~.~.~.~.~

“Do you have a death wish?” Chanyeol, of all people, throws his hands in the air, pacing as he runs his hands through his long hair.

Hyemi just watches him pace back and forth, Kyungsoo leaning against the door behind him as he follows Chanyeol’s hurried movements with his eyes as well.

“Like what is wrong with you?” Chanyeol mumbles, almost to himself, as he stops mid-pace and just stares at Hyemi as if he’s trying to read her mind.

“He’s an , Chanyeol, I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.” Hyemi tells him, wincing slightly when she moves her head, her neck sore. She gently rubs her neck, sighing. She hasn’t had the chance to look at her neck yet but from the look Chanyeol is giving her, she’s sure it’s not good.

Chanyeol purses his lips and stares up at the ceiling for a minute, instantly deflating. “The King can come off as…angry, but he’s not totally awful, you know.”

For some reason, it feels like Chanyeol is talking about more than just the King.

“You’re going to have to elaborate if you want me to believe you.” Hyemi points out, crossing her arms.

That’s when Chanyeol sighs, expression completely and uncharacteristically serious. “He’s like a father figure to me, Hyemi. I know, ty father figure, but... I know you hate him and you have good reason to hate him, but please be civil with him. Whatever you said wasn’t good for him. He’s…he’s sick.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth as if to add more and then closes it again.

He’s one of the only people I have left.

The unspoken phrase hangs between them, cut off but incredibly potent. There’s a sadness in Chanyeol’s eyes that makes Hyemi’s heartstrings tug.

She looks away, glancing at the wall behind Chanyeol. That’s why he puts up with Kris, too, she realizes. Hyemi thinks of her visions when Chanyeol’s sister had left him, when he had burned down his house along with his parents and his sister, and she sighs.

Before she can tell him that she’s not sorry for what she’s said but she’ll make sure she’s more civil in the future, the door slams open without even a knock, Kris striding through with a swish of his robes and his hair pulled up into a tight ponytail, a red crown circling the base. He’s quietly shadowed by Zitao’s lion-like form, although Zitao is far from expressionless. He looks strangely exhausted, the bags under his eyes more prominent. Kyungsoo barely avoids getting hit in the face by the swinging door.

Kris pauses in the middle of the room and he’s furious.

Chanyeol looks exasperated, “Can’t you knock?”

“This is my palace.” Kris snaps back. Kris advances on Hyemi, seemingly amused when she doesn’t even look fazed. Hyemi feels sick, though, because Kris and the King even have similar gestures. “You.” He points at her accusingly. “Who let you speak to my father?”

Hyemi glances at Kyungsoo and when Kris furiously turns on his heels to yell at the person, he instantly pauses and seemingly rethinks his actions. Kyungsoo just gives him a look, rising a single eyebrow, and Kris swivels back around and points at Hyemi again, “You!”

“You said that already.” Hyemi mumbles, frowning, her neck hurting a little from the slightest of movements.

“Honestly I should throw you in the dungeons for threatening my father.” Kris glowers, staring at Hyemi with unreadable eyes.

Hyemi makes a face, “I wanted to make myself clear to him. Chanyeol already spoke to me, Kris. I promise I won’t antagonize his health without reason anymore.” Hyemi rubs the side of her neck, frowning. “I’m sorry for that, but I’m not sorry for what I said.”

There’s a long pause that’s so silent, Hyemi could hear a pin drop if she had one.

“And I’m going home after I’m done with all this whether any of you like it or not.” Hyemi adds as an afterthought, eyeing each of them seriously. Kyungsoo seems bored and Chanyeol seems amused. Kris, on the other hand, still eyes her expressionlessly.

She rubs her temple, frowning when there’s a pounding in her head. She can feel the vision coming this time, but there’s no way for her to stop it. Her head begins to pound and her ears start to ring loudly, like a drumbeat going off just beside her ear.

Boom, boom, boom.

Boom. Boom.

Boom.

~.~.~.~.~

Boom.

Hyemi opens her eyes only to find herself sitting in her bed again, although this time the covers are a soft pink and rumpled and if she looks too closely she can see the signs of something other than blissful comfort.

Boom.

It’s knocking, she realizes. Someone is knocking on her door.

Slowly, she shifts out of bed, her white night gown too thin to stop the cold air from giving her goosebumps. She pads barefoot across the dust covered wooden floor, toes slipping a bit against the dust.

Slowly, she reaches for the doorknob and the door creaks open.

There’s a young boy standing there, tears in his eyes. He has bushy eyebrows and chubby cheeks and he’s barely five years old. Hyemi remembers the face, though, her eyes examining his teary ones.

Kris. It’s Kris as a little boy.

“Auntie.” He whimpers, still attempting to wipe the tears out of his eyes. He smiles, a watery smile full of teeth and gums, as if he thinks it’ll make her forget the tears and sadness spilling down his face.

“Did you have another nightmare?” A voice that isn’t Hyemi’s responds.

He shakes his head and shuffles in his place, so vigorously that his hair falls into his eyes and he sneezes at the dust rising into his face. “I don’t,” He hiccups and then blushes an unbelievable red, coughing slightly. “I don’t get nightmares, auntie.” He strikes the most ridiculous pose, lifting his arms. “I’m tough.”

“Of course.” The voice that belongs to this body laughs a beautiful tinkling laugh. “Do you want to play with the stationary, then?”

Kris stares past her shoulder, his eyes wide. Then he nods, almost timidly.

Hyemi moves aside and he practically tumbles through the room, climbing onto the towering bed. It takes him a few tries before he manages to throw his legs over the side and roll onto the bed and her body laughs again.

When she walks past the mirror, Hyemi catches sight of her reflection and Asha is staring back at her with eyes exactly like Hyemi’s.

Hyemi looks back over at Kris, who’s rolling around on her bed and play fighting with one of her fancy pens that had been lying around on her desk.

Hyemi’s mother sighs softly.

~.~.~.~.~

Hyemi blinks, opening her eyes, and Kris continues staring at her as expressionlessly as before.

Then, Kris pulls out one of the wooden chairs and sits down right in front of her bed, crossing his legs. His eyes scan her face, carefully, and she gives him a bewildered look.

He holds his hand out to her, watching her expectantly.

“What are you doing?” Hyemi asks, staring at his outstretched hand.

“Good job.” Kris states, eventually dropping his hand when he realizes she’s not going to take it.

“What?” Hyemi stares at him confusions.

“Father’s an .” Kris states, crossing his arms. His eyes are still expressionless and Hyemi wonders what this means. “I’ve wanted to do that for years, but, you know, the throne’s a part of the inheritance and all, so.”

Kris shrugs, growing amused with each passing second as Hyemi grows more and more bewildered.

“She was pretty cool back there.” Kyungsoo adds, thoughtfully, turning to look at Hyemi. He taps his chin. “Though, I don’t know if threatening to kill him and then taunting him to blow off her head was on account of you being brilliantly brave or stubborn and reckless.”

Chanyeol makes a face at both Kris and Kyungsoo.

Zitao speaks up from his shadowed corner, rolling his eyes, “Stubborn and reckless sounds about right.”

Kris snorts and Hyemi’s confused at his lack of anger.

Just when Hyemi thinks things couldn’t get any stranger, Chanyeol lets out a loud shriek and crashes into the table, the entire table toppling onto its side and bringing Chanyeol down with it.

Zitao laughs loudly as he watches Chanyeol flail, a person cloaked in all black sprawled on top of him.

Then the person sits up and looks down at Chanyeol, a hood covering his face. He pats Chanyeol’s head, appreciatively. “Thanks for catching me, Chanyeol.”

Hyemi’s eyes widen at the voice, even as Chanyeol shoves him away, grumbling.

It’s Jongin.

Jongin’s hood slips off his head and he looks over his shoulder. He eyes Hyemi in amusement. “Minseok tells me you’ve been slacking with your training.” Jongin quips.

Before Hyemi can respond, he crawls to his feet and instantly disappears, only to reappear right in front of her, eyes suddenly hard as he towers over her. “Also, it’s been what? A couple of weeks? And you’re already stepping out of line?”

“What—”

Hyemi jumps away when Jongin bends forward so he’s at eyelevel and close enough to make out his eyelashes. The fear she should have felt with King Sungyeol hits her right then as he crosses his arms and hovers over her, shadows on his face making him a thousand times more terrifying than she’d like. “I am this close to teleporting you to a deserted island full of wild animals. Why would you threaten the king?” Jongin bites out each word with venom and Hyemi shivers a bit.

“We’ve all already went over this.” Hyemi responds, making a face as she tries to alleviate the tension.

“She’s right.” Kyungsoo interrupts, nonchalantly. “Kris approved.”

Jongin blinks, looks over his shoulder, before looking back at Hyemi. He does this four more times, apparently looking for confirmation since each person in the room nods at him, before he settles on frowning at Hyemi. Then he flicks her forehead so hard, she yelps, grasping her forehead. “You’re still an idiot.” He grumbles.

“That hurt.”

Jongin just shrugs and leans away, sauntering over to talk Zitao.

Only when Jongin steps away, the throbbing against her forehead doesn’t stop. It fills her head to the brim and it feels like her brain is pulsing in pain.

Her head is pulsing and her wrist burns and she hates how helpless she is to these oncoming visions.

She hates how—

~.~.~.~.~

Hyemi stares at her hands, flexing them. She watches the way the muscles along her tan forearm tenses. She looks up when there’s a series of clicks, glancing past the reflection of herself in a puddle, the reflection of Jongin.

She’s Jongin.

A door slides open just in front of her and her whole body tenses. The entrance leads into pitch black darkness and Hyemi hates the fact that Jongin walks straight into it.

Of course he does, but why the hell does she have to involuntarily join him?

He walks into pitch dark blackness as if he knows exactly where he’s going.

His eyes don’t adjust to the darkness and Hyemi shivers because she feels like this type of darkness isn’t natural.

And then she hears a voice, a raspy, familiar voice, one that always manages to send shivers down her spine.

“Go away.” Baekhyun’s voice echoes in her head.

Jongin’s voice is soft in the darkness, a heavy contrast to the cold, demanding tone Baekhyun is using. “Baek, I’m here to help.”

“Go away.” Baekhyun shrieks it this time and it echoes and vibrates in her head in a blindingly loud tone. “Go away, go away, go…please…just.”

The way his voice breaks, the way his tone lilts between cold and demanding to vulnerable and scared absolutely breaks Hyemi’s heart.

Jongin stops walking, his black cloak swishing around him, disappearing into the darkness. “I brought what you need, Baek. Come on. They—We miss you. Please.” Jongin’s voice quivers and he sounds so young all of a sudden, like a kid trying to be braver than he really is.

“I can’t.” Baekhyun whispers, his voice morphing into something strange and full of static to Hyemi’s ears. “I’m already... I’ve changed and it’s only a matter of time before… I can’t. It's impossible. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you need to stop this, then?” Jongin asks, and it’s awfully desperate sounding to Hyemi. “Do you need me to find—”

“Please, don’t.” Baekhyun sounds exhausted, like he’s lived a million years. “Don’t give them what they want. Don’t—”

Then he falls into a coughing fit and Jongin twirls on his feet, turning in every direction in desperation. It sounds like Baekhyun is choking and Hyemi has never felt more helpless then she does now, unable to help or move.

“Baek, are you okay?” Jongin whispers, slowly, in concern.

It's so silent that it's deafening.

Until light floods through the darkness, so suddenly that it’s blinding. Jongin groans, covering his eyes and after a moment, of blinding white spots swimming in his vision, Jongin finally drops his arm.

White spots flood her vision and she can’t see anything, but she hears Baekhyun’s steady voice, strangely steady but familiar and comforting and not filled with vulnerability like earlier. Like her Baekhyun.

“You’re right.” Baekhyun’s voice echoes in her ears, “Let’s do it.”

~.~.~.~.~

When Hyemi slowly opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is Baekhyun standing at her doorway, eyeing Jongin, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, Kris, and Zitao with sleepy eyes.

His shirt is slipping off his shoulder, revealing his collarbones, and faint cuts are still visible beneath his rolled up sleeves. There’s cut on his cheek but otherwise he looks better from the last time Hyemi had seen him. “You’re all being so loud.” Baekhyun mumbles, irritably, rubbing his eyes.

It’s ridiculously cute and Hyemi blushes at the sight. She hasn’t seen him since she hurt him because she had felt bad and she knows it’s selfish to ignore him so she won’t feel worse, but she couldn’t help it. Now she feels even worse as she watches him leans against the doorway and eyes everyone in the room but her with sleepily accusing eyes.

“Baek, are you okay?” Jongin asks, tone filled with sudden concern. Hyemi wrinkles her brows at the deja vu.

Chanyeol, Kris, Kyungsoo, and even Zitao all sneak a peek at Hyemi when Jongin asks his question and she looks down at her lap, frowning.

Baekhyun glances down at his arms and shrugs, “Yeah, it’s nothing.” Then he smiles, all eyes and teeth, “It’s nice to see you, Jonginnie.”

Jongin glances between everyone in the room, his eyes lingering on Hyemi. It takes a moment before he narrows his eyes, frowning.

She looks up to find that Baekhyun is looking at her for the first time since he had shown up at her door, his eyes darkening as he frowns.

~.~.~.~.~

Someone slips in to sit on Hyemi’s right when Chanyeol decides to start talking about war tactics and Hyemi’s reminded of the apparent army headed their way. It’s another reason why Jongin had shown up at the castle, apparently Minseok had called him.

Hyemi loses interest in their conversation, lost in her own thoughts as she sits cross legged on her bed. She wonders why everyone’s decided to have a meeting in her room.

Fingers trail along the side of Hyemi’s neck and Hyemi stills at the sudden touch, her head slowly turning to the side and her thoughts abruptly coming to a halt. Baekhyun isn’t looking at her, his eyes fixed on the side of her neck.

She finds herself staring at the soft and sharp planes of his face, at the faint scar running along the apple of his left cheek.

His touch is soft, feather-light, yet she still winces at the extra pressure, the bruises on her neck throbbing. She stares at his downturned face while he inspects her neck and she doesn’t miss the way his jaw tightens. Slowly, he pushes her hair over and away from her right shoulder. He pauses, fingers brushing up and down the right side of her neck, before lingering at her collarbones.

He doesn’t utter a single word as he leans over her, his chest a hairsbreadth from hers. He lifts a pretty hand and sweeps her hair off her left shoulder as well, fully revealing her neck to him. She blushes a bit at the way he stares at her, his eyes flickering up to her face occasionally.

Then he slowly maneuvers her until her back is facing the room and she can’t see the other boys, her legs folded on either side of her as she unconsciously leans closer to him, balancing on her hands in between her thighs. He sits in front of her, thumb brushing circles along the length of her neck, and she accidentally lets out a shaky breath, incredibly overwhelmed by his gentle touches. She adores his soft touches and her mind wanders to other things, to how it’d feel if he touched her like this along her back, down her stomach, along her thighs—Hyemi stops her train of thoughts right there, internally wincing.

“Why don’t you know how to stay out of trouble?” Baekhyun murmurs, his voice velvety soft. “I was gone for barely twenty four hours, Hye.”

“Sorry.” Hyemi mumbles, blinking rapidly, flinching when one of his fingers brushes against her neck a little too hard.

“Does it hurt?” He breathes out, tracing circles against her cheek when she closes her eyes and tries to shake the butterflies tumbling around in the pit of her stomach.

Hyemi shakes her head, “I provoked the King.” She tells him then, knowing he’ll ask eventually.

She meets his eyes and they flicker darkly, jaw clenching and doing that thing she finds distracting. Then he rolls his eyes and chuckles. “You said something rude, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Hyemi mumbles, before quickly tacking on, “But he deserved it.”

“I know.” Baekhyun whispers and only then does Hyemi realize exactly how close he is to her, his eyes still stuck on her neck.

“Stop looking at them.” Hyemi whispers, reaching up hesitantly before she carefully cups his face. He closes his eyes, leaning into her touch.

“Then stop feeling guilty about what happened after the Oracle.” Baekhyun murmurs, eyes still closed.

“I’m not—”

He opens his eyes so suddenly, that she finds herself transfixed by his chocolate brown eyes. “You lash out when you’re upset.” He murmurs, his knuckles fluttering down her jawline.

He’s right, Hyemi knows that. But Hyemi wasn’t just upset over hurting Baekhyun. “It was going to happen sooner or later.” Hyemi points out. 

“I know,” Baekhyun repeats, eyes knowing, “I just wish you’d take care of yourself and be careful.”

Baekhyun then pushes Hyemi’s hair out of her eyes and dips down, fingers still tangled through her hair. She blinks in surprise when he places a tiny kiss against the corner of , “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

The butterflies in her stomach run rampant and she clutches the sheets between her thighs so tightly she’s sure she’s losing circulation to her fingers.

“Baekhyun.” Hyemi murmurs, in half-astonishment, half breathless whisper.

“Promise.” Baekhyun drags his lips to her cheek, fluttering kisses in a curved line before he takes a sudden dip. Then he presses his lips into the crook of her neck, gently pecking her bruised neck. The pain doesn’t bother her, not when the butterflies in her stomach have evolved into pterodactyls and she’s closing her eyes as she tries to control her breathing. “Me.” Baekhyun finishes, lips moving against her collarbone.

Baekhyun leans away, detaching his warm lips from her hot skin and she nearly whines out loud. Baekhyun seems amused at her expression.

“I promise.” Hyemi tells him quickly, reaching out to him.

He just gives her a dazzling smile, “Good.”

She doesn’t know what makes her reach out to tug at his already drooping shirt, but she does, attempting to pull his warm lips back onto her skin. Her fingers curl around the thin material. “Baek.” She mumbles, frowning at him.

He just places a pretty finger against her lips. His voice comes out raspy as his eyes rake down her form and darken in a way that immediately makes her look away, blushing. “There are other people in the room, baby.” Baekhyun reminds her, laughing in amusement. She flushes at the term of endearment and that only makes his smile grow wider. “Did you forget?”

She looks away, embarrassed, and he snakes an arm around her waist, maneuvering her back around. He sits with his legs crossed beneath him and Hyemi just sighs, leaning into him in resignation.

The rest of the room seemed to be too immersed in their conversation to notice what had just happened between Hyemi and Baekhyun. At least that’s what Hyemi assumes, until Chanyeol is giving her suggestive little thumbs ups from the corner and Kris looks vaguely disgusted as he adjusts the golden crown on his head.

Jongin eventually bursts into hysterical laughter.

~.~.~.~.~

It’s stormy, thunder roaring through the inky black night. The rain falls in hard pellets, cold as ice as the rain seeps through skin and chills the bone.

With each flicker of lightning, a face slithers through the ash gray tree trunks.

Lightning strikes once.

A pitch black face looms between two branchless tree trunks, half hidden by the shadows, a few hundred feet back.

Lightning strikes twice.

Ten feet away, the face is now hovering over a bush filled with sickly purple leaves. The face floats, moving back and forth, like a pendulum. Its slanted eyes are pure white from afar, not a single bit of color disrupting its smooth surface, body blending into the murky night.

Lightning strikes thrice.

The face is in the middle of the clearing, furious bloody red pooling and trickling through the whites of its eyes, sharp teeth protruding from a slit where its mouth should be. Its black face hovers in midair and it just sways, stark white and blood red eyes maintaining eye contact, never tearing away. It just rocks and sways like a never-ending pendulum, back and forth back and forth, tick tock, tick tock.

Until lightning strikes a fourth time.

a/n: Ok now everything is going to start picking up and the real is about to go down and Hyemi's progressing and I'm extrememly excited and nervous to write it omg. like i'm pretty sure this is the last stretch of this story and I'm guessing there'll be less than 10 chapters left depending on how quickly I progress with each update! We're in for a wild ride hell yeah h e ll ye ah omg. (plus I'm out for summer break after my last final tomorrow so !!! yay!!)

Please remember to tell me what you thought below and subscribe or comment if you liked it! I'd love to hear theories and such too and basically anything. Thank you everyone I love you!! 

(and regarding Tao, I wish him luck with whatever decision he makes and I support it wholeheartedly <3 *calls a big ol group hug for all of exo fandom rn tbh*)