// AGE 17

“Okay, but just this once,” you say, again. “And you go back to the teapot right after.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Taehyung says, slightly annoyed.

“Okay,” you say, rolling up your sleeves. “But don’t forget I still have that restraining spiritual collar on you so if you’re thinking of wreaking havoc it’s not going to work—”

“—because it completely blocks my power. Yes, I am aware of that,” Taehyung says. “Just let me out already.”

“Fine, fine.” Quickly, before you can rethink this terrible idea, you chant the releasing incantation for the demon seal, unlocking it with a firm slap to the side of the teapot.

Suddenly, you feel Taehyung’s form permeate into the room, swirling into a conglomerate mass, rapidly solidifying into a human form. Long gone is the sinister presence you once felt the day you met him so many years ago. You let out a small gasp when Taehyung finally assumes his human form. He’s gorgeous, to say the least. The cocky smile he gives you when he meets your face tells you that the little  knows that he is hot stuff.

your suddenly dry lips, you try to collect your thoughts. “Your clothes are so outdated,” you say, eyeing his traditional robes, the cloth fraying at the ends. He snorts.

“Oh come on, it’s your first time seeing me like this and that’s what you have to say?” he says, pouting. “Not even a ‘you look nice?’”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. You look nice, Tae—” he smiles. You almost melt. “—better than you did when you were a teapot.”

“Wow,” Taehyung says, feigning hurt. His smile is replaced with a dramatic frown.

“But seriously,” you say. “We should probably get you some new clothes.”

“Yeah,” he says agreeably. “I haven’t been able to change them for at least five hundred years.” You wrinkle your nose in disgust; he flashes you a grin. “Shopping trip?”

You swallow, trying to keep yourself in check. “Y-yeah.”

//

“I hope you know I’m paying for all of this out of my own pocket,” you grumble.

Taehyung shoots you a heart-melting grin as he piles the clothes on the counter. “Don’t worry, these were all on discount.”

You eye the mountain of clothes warily as you fumble for your wallet. When the cashier finishes scanning all the clothes, you’re pleased to see that Taehyung actually chose his clothes wisely. Even so, it was still a rather hefty amount.

Good thing the family business was successful, you think, pulling out a credit card.

“Please tell me that somewhere in there you picked out formal clothes for the wedding,” you say. The cashier gives you a nervous smile as she takes your card.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” Taehyung replies.

// AGE 16

It’s true that Taehyung was never really a fan of the human race, or humans, in general; after all, all the humans he had so far interacted with were weak, fragile things, easily broken and incredibly fun to play with.

That is, except for the team of exorcists that sealed him. But he doesn’t like to think about them, especially since he tends to feel an intense wave of rage each time he does.

Now that he’s met you, though, amidst the rage and centuries of frustration, Taehyung has begun to feel a strange twinge of...appreciation. Gratitude. For the exorcists. Because without them, he wouldn’t be caught in a seal, sitting on the desk next to your bed, admiring your sleeping form.

Okay, he admits that sounds a little creepy, but, hey. Inside a seal, he doesn’t need to sleep, or eat, or anything, really, since the only thing in here is his soul, the very essence of his being. He has no bodily form he can take on, nothing that he needs to maintain. So he has nothing else to do. And also it’s maybe because—he hates to admit it—he likes looking at you.

He also likes your laughs, the way you smile and look at him when you talk.  He adores your little quirks and habits, and admires your intelligence and wit. Needless to say, you interest him. Greatly. Taehyung vaguely wonders if this is the feeling that humans call “love.” Something that he simply scoffed at before, absolutely delighted in tearing to shreds, cackling evilly as tears streamed down his victims’ faces. But now...he’s not so sure about his stance on the strange, foreign emotion.

His musings are briefly interrupted when you let out a soft, breathy laugh in the middle of a dream, followed by a mumble vaguely sounding like “Tae.” Taehyung smiles—inwardly, of course, since teapots can’t actually smile.

Teapots also can’t care for and be with you like another human can.

This brings on yet another wave of thoughts, of what he would be able to do for you as a human, how he would act, how much better it would be if he could finally touch you, and sit there right next to you any time you felt down, and smile and laugh along for real each time you told a joke.

He wonders what it would feel like to be human, or at least, in his human form. Taehyung also wonders how you would react to him finally being human, chuckling when he remembers that oh yeah, apparently he’s hella handsome. Or rather, 500 years ago humans thought he was, a fact that he used to his advantage.

Just a mere glance from you in his direction when you finally crack your eyes open to the loud beeps of your alarm clock, eyes bleary, is enough to make him feel butterflies.

“Good morning,” he greets, as you crawl out of your bed, pajamas wrinkled, still half-asleep.

“G’morning,” you mumble, giving him a tired grin. His heart—or rather his soul, he supposes—pounds as he feels a rush of euphoria.

It’s here and now—with the morning sun just barely peeking out from the roofs as you drowsily brush your teeth, toothpaste dripping from the corner of your mouth—that Taehyung finally decides that he is officially in love with you.

And hopelessly so, he concludes.

// AGE 17

“You’re only going to be in human form for a few days, I don’t understand why you need this many clothes,” you mumble, struggling to open the door while keeping a hold of two giant bags, filled with Taehyung’s clothes. You nearly get the heavy glass door slammed right into your face.

He rushes to your aid, toting his own share of the load. “I mean, I’m still going to need them anyways when I get released. Plus, why did you release me so early? You could’ve just done it, I don’t know, the day of the wedding?”

“Yeah but,” you say, striding down the busy street. “I don’t understand why I have to pay for them.” Maybe it’s because you like him so much. But of course, you’re not going to tell him that. “And it’s so you can get used to your form, duh,” you continue. “It’s not like my parents are going to see you, anyways. They never come into my room and are too busy working the shop.”

“Well, are you suggesting that I pay for the clothes? I’ve been a teapot for the last decade and a half, come on,” he says, shooting you a grin. You pout at him. “It’s okay. I’ll make it up to you.”

You side eye him. “You better, teapot.”

//

Saying that he’s happy would not even begin to describe how Taehyung currently feels. He’s feeling overjoyed. Exuberant. Ecstatic. He has to fight hard to contain his smile, or else he feels as if he may just burst into some garish explosion of rainbows and happiness.

His fingers, trembling with excitement, nervously rub at the hem of his new shirt as he stares at his own reflection in the mirror. He’s in his human form, finally. After so many years, it feels strange to have to breathe, to eat, to sleep, but he doesn’t quite care because he can finally be with you. Really be with you.

“Hey, are you done yet?”

At the sound of your voice, muffled through the bathroom door, he startles. “Yeah,” he calls back, giving his reflection one last glance before turning the knob and walking out. He smirks when he sees your eyes widen.

“Not bad,” you say, swallowing hard.

“Thanks,” he says, smirking, moving closer to you. “I bet I’ll look even better in the clothes I picked out for the wedding.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, right.”

Taehyung smirks wider, letting out a laugh because despite your obvious sarcasm, there’s still a blush on your cheeks, enough to turn them faintly red, as he settles down next to you.

// DAYS LATER

“Wow, so this is Kim Taehyung?” your mother asks as she smiles at the demon standing next to you.

“Yeah,” you reply. “He has the same first name as my demon.”

“That’s interesting,” your father says, eyeing him warily.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Taehyung says, voice deep and smooth. You’re glad that your parents never really bothered to converse with Taehyung; they would have recognized his voice otherwise.

“Likewise,” your father says, taking Taehyung’s hand for a firm handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re just glad _______ has finally found a partner,” your mother says, taking Taehyung’s hand in hers.

You awkwardly shuffle your feet, looking around the foyer of the grand building; it’s supposedly the height of modern architecture. “I think it’s time to sit down for the vows,” you say, noticing how people are slowly filing into the brightly lit room to the left, in which the ceremony is to be held.

Your mom frowns. “Darn,” she says, “I wanted to get some pictures of you and Taehyung.”

“Relax, there’s plenty of time afterwards,” your father says, clapping a hand on her shoulder. You grin nervously, the hem of your dress. “We can even get one of their professional photographers to take photos for us then.”

“That would be very nice,” Taehyung says, smiling politely. You want to elbow him in the ribs but another part of you doesn’t, because god would it be nice to get a photo with him. Just the two of you. Smiling, hands on each other, looking like a real couple. Angrily, you pinch your leg through the fabric of the dress when you begin to feel yourself swoon. He’s a ing teapot. Get yourself together, _________.

// ONE DAY EARLIER

“Do you think we should like...practice? Gestures? Or something?” you ask, turning your head to look at Taehyung. The two of you are sprawled out on your bed, side by side, limbs just barely touching.

He turns on his side to face you. “I suppose, yeah,” he says. “Like what, though?”

You feel your face heat up. “I don’t know, whatever normal couples do. Like. Hugging. Or, uh, holding hands.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, before quickly grabbing your hand in his. You let out a surprised squeak. “Like this?” he asks, raising your linked hands before letting them fall back down on the bed. Quickly, you turn to face away from him so he doesn’t see how red your face has gotten.

“Y-Yeah,” you say. You’re trying to burn the sensation of his hand interlaced with yours, fingers locked perfectly together, into your mind.

“And you also said hugging, right?” Taehyung asks. You can feel him smirking behind you.

You nod. “But we’ll, uh, have to get up for tha—” You let out yet another squeak when Taehyung lets go of your hand and proceeds to drag you towards him, until your back is pressed against his firm chest. “Tae, wha—”

You promptly stop talking when he proceeds to nuzzle his face into the back of your neck, and oh my god, did he just smell me?

You’re really not okay since you feel like your face is on fire and any moment now you might just blow up because this feels so good and wonderful and amazing and just so right with Taehyung cuddling you but also ridiculously painful since it’s only practice and it’s not heartfelt or genuine. At least, you think, but wish it was otherwise.

It’s still better than nothing, you decide, when he hooks his chin on your shoulder. “So, what were you saying?” he asks, deep voice humming against your ear. You try to suppress a shiver but fail, instead clearing your throat loudly, wetting your dry lips.

“I said that we have to hug standing up because we’re not going to lying on the ground at the wedding,” you mumble, trying to hide your face into a pillow.

“Oh,” he says, and awkwardly detaches himself from you. “Then let’s get up then.” He gently tugs at your limp wrist as you bury your face further into your pillow.

“Nevermind,” you mutter, simply because you’re not sure if your heart can take another hug with Taehyung, with the way it was beating so fast and loudly just moments before.

“Uh, okay then,” he says, sounding confused—disappointed. He once again settles down on the bed next to you, shoulder just barely brushing against yours.

// PRESENT

When the two of you sit down, side by side, Taehyung immediately takes your hand in his, it softly with his thumb. You swallow down, hard, fighting to keep cool. We’re only pretending, and he’s a teapot.

He doesn’t let go of your hand throughout the whole ceremony. Occasionally, you sneak a few glances at him, admiring his profile.

It’s incredibly unfair that he can look so nice, so handsome, you conclude. But, you reason, you did kind of bring this upon yourself. You want to say you have no regrets, but you do, but you’re also happy with the decision. Regretful because the aching pang in your heart, something you guess happens when you really really like someone and you’re finally with them except none if it’s real, is at least a hundred times more painful now since Taehyung is so close yet so far. You’re happy, because you can finally see him and touch him and also you’re just realizing that you’re going to have to release him within the next month because he is undoubtedly a tame demon now. And also, you’re turning eighteen soon.

You flinch, surprised, when Taehyung lightly tugs at your hand. Confused, you look up at him, eyes widening when you realize everyone else is standing up. Hurriedly, you jump to your feet, free hand running through your hair. He gives you an amused smile before turning to face the front.

// HOURS EARLIER

He’s right, Taehyung thinks, admiring his suit-clad reflection. He does look pretty handsome in these clothes.

“Hurry up,” you say, sounding rushed.

“I’m coming out,” he calls. Giving his mirror image a cocky grin, he steps out of the bathroom and into your room, but suddenly freezes when he spots you sitting on the edge of your bed, wearing a dress. A very attractive and beautiful dress.

“Alright,” you say, not bothering to look at him, instead checking the clock on your wall. “We should get going now. I told my dad we would ride the train to the town and just walk over to the building. They should be there by now, since they volunteered to help out a bit with the setup or something.”

You then turn to look at him, and if he was frozen in place moments before, then he’s superglued now. Before he could only really make out your dress; you had been facing away from him. But now that he sees your face, it feels as if he can’t breathe. You look gorgeous, more so than usual, and now he’s not so sure how well he’ll be able to handle himself at the wedding. In fact, if he had a choice he would much rather not go at all and settle for being a teapot again, so he could sit there and stare at you all day without looking creepy.

Or, he thinks, grinning inwardly, another choice would be to go, but not to your cousin’s wedding, but to his, in which he’s the groom and you’re the bride and neither of you are fake dating.

It takes a few moments for both of you to realize that you’re gawking at each other. Taehyung struggles to pull himself together, clearing his throat loudly.

“Well?” he says, hastily. “Are we going or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, breaking out of your trance. You get up hurriedly, grabbing the train tickets next to you, and grab his hand to tug him forward.

// PRESENT

When the ceremony is over, Taehyung finally lets go of your hand, something that you’re both relieved and disappointed about. But when the two of you get up to go to the reception, his arm is suddenly wrapped around your waist as he guides you through the crowd. Awkwardly, you lean into him.

When your parents spot the two of you walking into the foyer, your mother smiles indulgently, tapping the arm of the photographer next to her.

“You two are so cute,” she coos. “Let’s take a few pictures.” Next to her, your