A/N:

Best. Epilogue. Yet. 

Partly because Soo's in it. And Chanyeol. And Zitao. And whoever that last boy is. 

If you've noticed, each epilogue thus far features four boys (prominently, at least) hence the need for three epilogues. 

Nah. I'm kidding. I just wanted to reach the seventieth chapter mark. This means, that there is one more. 

Wait for it. 

xoxo,

pandabiscuits

ps, You won't have to wait long. It'll be released tomorrow. 

pps, This chapter is so wrong in so many ways I hope y'all are still alive after this. 

[Year 23]

“I reject your apology.”

I got up on my feet, refusing to sit in the cold any longer. The honest truth was, however, the fact that I couldn’t bear to sit next to the boy who made my heart tremble with every word he spoke.

“Don’t do this, please.” He got up too, stopping me in my tracks with his body. His tall frame blocked the light that shone through the kitchen windows, casting darkness over the two of us who stood face-to-face in the backyard. “Jen, could you at least listen to my reas–”

“No,” I made the move to sidestepped him, but he stepped in the same direction as I did. “Move aside.”

“No.”

“You just wasted three minutes of my life.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Regret seeped into me but what’s done is done; I can’t take the words back. So I proudly lifted my head up, eyes resting on his face. Regret soon mixed with fear as his unreadable expression greeted my eyes. Don’t relent, Jen. Forge on. “Move aside, please.”

“No.”

I stepped to the other side, and the boy followed suit. Biting on my lower lip in exasperation, I let out a loud groan. “Just ing move aside!”

“I said no.”

“Sehun!”

I glared fiercely at him, willing the tears that began to obscure my vision to not fall. His eyes widened in surprise at the appearance of the liquid that welled in my own, and the invisible wall that he had swiftly built up when I first rejected his apology came crumbling down.

Taking my face in his hands, he thumbed my tears away. “I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.”

Yet another apology.

Pushing at his hands, I wiped the tears away with my own hands. His hands came up to my face again, fingers cupping my cheeks but I wrenched them away.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” His helpless hands fell to his sides, his expression hurt but I couldn’t care less. You hurt me first and as much as I don’t want to hurt you, I can’t. I can’t not hurt you.

Because this is how I cope. This is how I cope with people who hurt me.

I stepped to the other side and once again, he did the same. “For the last time, Sehun, move aside.”

“If you are still able to call my name without the surname attached, you’re not that mad at me.”

The boy had noticed. Damn it.  

“You’re wrong,” I inhaled sharply, daring myself to look at him in the eye.

“Nope,” Playfulness began to arise, his eyes now glinting and a ghost of a brief smirk appeared on his face. “You’re not really mad at me, aren’t you?”

Like a child throwing a tantrum, I stomped my feet. “I am! I am, I am, I am!”

On my fourth stomp, I found myself being pulled forward, face landing with an unglamorous uff! on his chest.

I think my nose broke, a soft crack alerting me to its possible state of injury. No thanks to the boys’ obsession with gymming every alternate days since Kris discovered the ‘haven’ (as quoted by Kai) at the mall a couple of years back. Til this day, all twelve of them still make it an effort to spend an hour or two at that wretched place which gradually produced defined abs and rock-hard chests and guns.

Sehun sniggered, earning himself a painless smack on the bicep, the sound of skin slapping on skin resounding in the silence of the backyard. I could feel the strength from all those sessions of gymming rippling within him as his arms came around me.

“I was angry,” The cheekiness of the snigger gone, in its place a seldomly-seen seriousness. “I resented the fact that I had lost in the tournament, getting the position of being the fifth person you would receive your present for. Right after Kai, no less.” He muttered darkly, as if Kai was someone he despised.  

“This sounds like a confession about today’s weird happenings,” I was surprised at Sehun’s sudden honesty.

He nodded his head, “Something like that.”

“So I’m guessing Xiumin won everyone?”

“Nah, the three of them demanded to be first. Who could out-argue them oldies? So, Xiumin-hyung got to be the one who would accompany you to the columbarium,” He paused, before adding quickly, “Of course, the rest of us visited grandpa and gramma during the time you were having lunch with Xiumin-hyung and Luhan-hyung.”

I nodded this time, wanting to convey that I believe him. “Sehun?”

“Hmm?”

“I accept your apology.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” My arms went around him, face falling for a moment when I realised how lean the boy had become. I cursed softly under my breath but it could be heard anyway, for Sehun chuckled.

“Baby girl?”

I lifted my face up just in time to find my lips captured. He moved gently, as if afraid of scaring me off. His hands came up to my face, his palms moulding into one with my cheeks as he tilted his head and mine to opposite sides for better access. His tongue probed, wishing to gain entrance into my mouth. It was then I pulled away, ragged breaths filling the silence as I tried to compose myself.

He’s going to hear. He’s going to know.

I stepped away from him, stepped to the side and this time I successfully walked past him, a hand on my thumping heart.

“Boo.”

I screamed, hands accidentally slapping my own cheeks and the water splashed onto the countertop. Laughter came from beside me and after rubbing my face with a towel that was thrown onto my head, my eyes snapped to the culprit.

I scowled, “Huang Zitao.”

“Hey there, beautiful.”

I choked on my saliva, igniting yet another bout of laughter from the boy who was leaning against the doorway of the toilet. Seeing how my face had turned red, he hurriedly thumped my back with his hand. “You okay, Jen?”

I nodded and he relaxed visibly, leaning against the doorway again, his eyes fixated on me. “What’s up, Zitao? You won’t come find me on your own, not when Suho clearly told me you’d be out with your friends tonight.”

He stuck out his tongue, colour filling his cheeks as he dropped his gaze. “Well…”

“Tch, liar.”

Done with the washing of my face (to wake myself up from my friend’s -gulp- affection), I brushed past him, not expecting to be stopped for the umpteenth time in a single day. So it came as a shock when his hand gripped my wrist.

I already had one foot out the door and I could hear the din in the living room. “Let me go, Zitao.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” I turned back to him, fingers rearranging his tousled fringe. I just noticed that they were wet, the boy must have just took a shower in the other bathroom. “I don’t really care.”

“That’s hurting, you know that.” His grip on my wrist tightened.

“I know. That’s why I’m apologising too.” I tilted my head to the side, a small smile forming. “I’m sorry, Zitao.”

He snickered, “Does this mean we’re equal now?”

“Uh huh.” I made a move to remove my wrist from his hand but that only served to attract his attention, a