[tite song: tujh mein rab dikhta hai (shreya ghoshal version)]

chapter 22;

She wakes up screaming in someone’s arms, her wet cheek pressed against someone’s chest, but the smell is all wrong. It’s not Baekhyun and that’s the most she can gather in her cloudy, hysterical state. She grows limp against him anyway, grateful for someone to hold on to (even if it isn’t the person she wants), only to realize that the voice attached to the chest belongs to Sehun, of all people. He continues to awkwardly pat at her head while he shushes her gently, his grip on her gentle but incredibly awkward and hesitant, as if he’s unsure where exactly he should place his hands.

Slowly, carefully, she pulls away from him, untangling herself from him, and Sehun gives her a sheepish look, his usually stoic expression filled with worry she hadn’t been expecting from him.

(In all honesty, she can’t believe anyone would look at her with anything other than horror for what she did in that house.)

Still, she steels herself when she meets his gaze, because she hates it, she hates how pathetic she’s been acting, she hates the fact that her vision had her appear so desperate, even if it was in front of Baekhyun.

She tears her eyes away from Sehun, focusing more on her surroundings. She looks up at the large, smoky-grey tree they’re sitting under, a fire burning in front of them, and her eyes involuntarily dart around the fire, searching for Baekhyun, despite her dream, despite everything.

It’s dark and she visibly shivers as she looks around.

“Don’t worry.” Jongdae says, from the other side of the fire, where he lies on his stomach, head resting on his forearms, as he stares into the fire, brows creasing. There’s a bandage next to his eyebrow and one of his eyes still droop, blackened by a bruise. “Sehun got us pretty far from there. And you did enough damage to keep them from looking for us for at least a few days. They won’t find us any time soon.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes drift past Jongdae, yet she doesn’t find Baekhyun.

“You did what you had to do.” Jongdae says, after a long moment. His good eye dances in the fire and the shadows casting across his face hide most of it. “Don’t worry.” He repeats and Hyemi can’t figure out what he’s thinking. It’s frustrating.

“This is a war.” Sehun adds, his stoic face showing just the tiniest bit of concern.

(Hyemi’s skin crawls at the statement, because though it’s true, it’s still so horrible.)

“Where’s Baekhyun?” Hyemi croaks out, eventually.

Jongdae looks up at her, through the fire, shadows dancing across his face, but Sehun is the one to answer, his voice quiet, strangely gentle again, uncharacteristically so. “He went for a walk when you…”

Hyemi watches him trail off, furrowing his brows as his eyes dart past her, to where Jongdae lays, as if he’s silently asking for the right way to say his next words.

“Had your nightmare.” Jongdae finishes for him, voice soft, though his lips flip down into a delicate little frown, the corners curling downwards.

“Oh.” Hyemi feels disappointment course through her at that, because Baekhyun hadn’t even bothered comforting her. Instead he had walked away.

(A small voice in her head whispers of course he would, you terrorized his mother’s family and she pales, her heart beating wildly in , her heart twisting.)

“He’ll be back. Rest a little, Hyemi.” Jongdae sighs, his smile careful, never quite reaching his eyes. She stares at him, shaking her head, and he continues, patting the spot beside him in exaggerated enthusiasm, “Feel free to come over here at any time and cuddle with me, though. It’s freezing out here and I don’t mind. Besides, I’m a thousand times cuter than Sehun.” He throws her a wide beam and a cheesy wink, then, obviously trying to make her smile, and she snorts, her lips twitching a bit.

Sehun glares at Jongdae from beside her, sticking his tongue out childishly when Hyemi doesn’t follow his suggestion.

Jongdae yawns and Sehun beckons her closer, gesturing for her to scoot closer to the fire, so she does, rubbing her hands over the fire. They sit in silence for a long time, Hyemi watching from the corner of her eyes as Sehun begins to doze off, his head continuously falling onto her shoulder before he jolts up, only to do it all over again, over and over, until he eventually leaves his head on her shoulder, slouching a bit as his breathing gets slow. She observes his face, noting how young he looks when he’s sleeping, before her eyes zero in on the purpling bruise on his cheek.

(She’s reminded of how the unconscious body—Sehun, she now knows—had been falling over her in that damn house and she suppresses a shiver, looking away from Sehun’s sleeping face.

She also ignores the fact that Baekhyun still isn’t back yet, looking away from the dark expanse of trees all around them too, instead focusing on the fire and its warmth.)

Jongdae is looking at her over the fire, she realizes, his good eye seemingly examining her.

Finally, finally, the words slip out of her lips, her voice low so she doesn’t disturb Sehun. “Did you know?”

Hyemi doesn’t need to elaborate, not when Jongdae’s good eye shows understanding and he pushes himself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain. Hyemi isn’t sure if he’s taken any medic pills, but she figures there are some injuries that take time, even with magical healing pills handy.

Slowly, Jongdae nods. “We’re best friends. He told me about his biological mother and her family a long time ago.”

And Hyemi hates that fact. She hates it because she used to call Baekhyun her best friend, hell, she thinks he still is (he certainly knows more about her than anyone else, aside from Minah), but she doesn’t know about him.

Jongdae, Chanyeol, any of them could be better best friends to him than she is (she ever was) and she hates that.

“You hate it, don’t you? That you know nothing about him?” Jongdae murmurs, his voice barely carrying over the crackling fire, tone and face unreadable. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Hyemi doesn’t answer because deep down, she knows Jongdae is right. She ing hates it because she doesn’t know anything about him. How can she know that he meant what he said the night he told her to stop needing him, when he alluded to having feelings for her?

How the hell is she supposed to be okay with liking him, kissing him, when everything she knew about him was a lie? His parents aren’t workaholic surgeons who work double and triple shifts in different hospitals all over South Korea, like he had said, waving off her inquiries without a bat of an eye.

So how is she supposed to believe that he actually likes her the way he had said? How is she supposed to like him back when everything they’ve been built on turned out to be a bunch of lies?

How is she supposed to be okay with the fact that she considers him her best friend while he obviously does not?

Of course she hates it.

“Maybe, everything you remember about him feels like a lie, but,” Jongdae’s lips curl up in that peculiar way of his, “But, the friendship he built with you is real, Hyemi. You know more about him than you think, just as he does with you. Feelings and shared experienced can’t be faked.” Before Hyemi can open , Jongdae rolls his eyes, voice strangely soft, despite that same peculiar smile of his, “He only cast an illusion on the people around you. He never tried to do it to you until the very end.”

She blinks and Jongdae sighs, “Just remember that.”

Deep down, Hyemi knows Jongdae’s right. Jongdae smiles at her like he knows that she agrees.

~.~.~.~.~

“Wake up, Hyemi.”

Hyemi grumbles when she’s shaken, her eyes fluttering open. Slowly, she sits up, her confusion growing when she pushes up off a desk, and she realizes that she’s sitting in her desk back in her childhood home. Blinking rapidly, she looks up from her desk and Baekhyun is leaning against the wall, right beside her study table, his arms crossed and his eyes pinned on the wall across from where he’s leaning.

Hyemi wonders if this is another vision, from her past this time, but there’s something about the quality of her surroundings that just seems…off. The window is open, the curtains fluttering in the soft evening breeze, and Baekhyun tosses her sweatshirt at her. “You need to get out of your room.” Baekhyun murmurs, voice gentle.

Hyemi remembers this moment, right after a particularly nasty breakup when she refused to see anyone and Baekhyun gave her three days of space before he threatened to drag her out of her house by force if he had to. But there’s something off about this memory, something she can’t quite place her finger on.

Hyemi’s mouth moves, the memory of the dialogue taking over, and it’s strange to have words come out of so automatically, “You can’t just break into my house like this. It’s a felony, you know.”

Baekhyun makes a face at her as he casually plops down on her bed, raising a brow, “You gave me a key.”

His expression, with his soft cheeks and raised eyebrow and twitching lip and feathery almost-bowl cut, makes Hyemi’s heart hurt because she’s missed this so much. She’s missed her best friend so much, especially when he was like this, not now, when the fate of the damn world is resting on her shoulders and he doesn’t smile the way he used to anymore.

Hyemi makes a face, sighing, “Yet you still climbed in through the window like some criminal.”

“Your dad’s asleep.” Baekhyun lounges all over her bed and stretches out a foot in her direction, nudging at her swiveling computer chair hard enough to slide her torso right into the desk. “Come on. Put the sweatshirt on.”

“No.” Hyemi mumbles stubbornly.

It’s quiet for a long, long time, long enough for Hyemi to glance at Baekhyun from the corner of her eye. He’s staring at her, his expression frozen in thought and his head tilted to the side, his lips slightly parted. Something glints in his eyes and then he hooks his foot around the bottom of her swiveling computer chair and tugs her chair closer to where he’s lounging on her bed, leaning back on his elbows as he eyes her with strangely blank eyes, lifting his head just to look at her with careful consideration.

Hyemi gasps, her socked feet dragging across the carpeted floor as Baekhyun jerks her chair closer to him. Slowly, he sits up and leans real close, eyes boring into hers.

He reaches out and Hyemi feels her heart jump in place at the utter proximity, at the way his fingers tips flutter over her messy hair, his chin jutting out as he leans close.

Then he flicks her nose, glaring, his own nose wrinkling up cutely and she squeals, grabbing at her nose. “I’ll drag you out of here if I have to.”

“But it’s the middle of the night.” Hyemi practically winds, still grasping her nose as she leans away from his face as discretely as possible, despite the fact that he’s still leaning in, his nose practically pressed to hers while his eyes search her face. She stares up at the ceiling, ignoring the sudden urge to throw her arms around Baekhyun’s neck and cry, thanks to her stupid ex-boyfriend. “Nothing’s open.” She reminds him in a shaky voice that leaves her annoyed with herself.

It’s quiet for a long moment, until Baekhyun places gentle hands over her knees, the movement seemingly unconscious for him but incredibly stressful for her. He tilts his head to the side, eyes sparkling, and whispers conspiringly, “There’s a twenty four hour convenience store down on Fifth Street.” He grins, slowly, his lips curling up and Hyemi feels that same wave of sadness crashing down on her again, her fingers tightening around each other in her lap. “I’ll buy you whatever you want.” Baekhyun adds, winking.

“Food isn’t going to cheer me up.” Hyemi snaps back, suddenly, angrily, because she’s upset and she doesn’t want to go outside and partake in social interaction, not even with Baekhyun in the dead of night.

Baekhyun’s smile falters at her harsh tone and she immediately feels the need to apologize. Before she can utter a quick apology, he sighs and leans back, pulling one of his hands off her knee, though the other one remains, his fingers unconsciously drawing circles against her legging-clad kneecap. He drags the hand through his hair, mussing it up. “He isn’t worth it.” Baekhyun peers at her, his fingers her knee, “He isn’t worth crying over. You know he isn’t.”

“I know.” Hyemi sighs, slumping against her computer chair, and Baekhyun reaches out to her, cupping her cheek gently. Hyemi looks up at him, her bottom lip trembling, and an unreadable look passes his eyes, his gaze melting and his hand warm against her cheek. “Sorry.” She adds, sighing as she bites down on her bottom lip, quickly brushing away a stray tear.

He just shakes his head, “Come on. You need to get out of here.” Baekhyun eyes her room in distaste before he pushes himself off her bed, still leaning over her, his hand pressed to her cheek. He just pats her cheek a few times, a gentle reminder to look up at him, and she glances at her sweatshirt, that’s somehow ended up under her desk. He grimaces playfully, swiping it up off the floor before he promptly drops it on her head. She pulls it over her head while he keeps talking, his voice further away than earlier. “And leave the curtains open. It smells awful in here.”

Hyemi shoves him and he stumbles towards her window, stifling his loud laughter, eyes bright, and she instantly feels better, watching as Baekhyun throws a leg over her windowsill before carefully dropping onto the porch roof inches below her windowsill.

She straddles the porch, before she throws her other leg over the ledge, easily lowering herself onto her porch roof as quietly as possible. Baekhyun crouches at the edge of the porch roof before he turns to face her, grip tight on the tiles as he lowers himself onto the porch railings below. When he sees her watching him do this so fluidly he whispers (shouts really because in Baekhyun’s world there is no such thing as whispering) Parkour coupled with a very high pitched shriek on his way down, since there is a very brief moment of free falling on the way down. And then she hears giggling and she snorts, dropping to her knees.

Hyemi leans precariously over the side and remembers the way Baekhyun would be grinning back at her, like her own personal sun, and he’d whisper-yell a dramatic I’ll catch you if you fall, don’t worry! (that Hyemi knows is just a front on his part because the one time she did miss the railing below, he tried to catch her and Hyemi ended up getting her foot caught on the porch rail, smacking her head hard against his, before she somehow managed to get her foot unhooked and they both ended up tumbling onto the lawn and rolling halfway down the hill beside her house, bruised and, in Hyemi’s case, concussed because Baekhyun’s head is much harder than it looks).

That’s what she remembers of this memory, what she expects to see, but there’s nothing there.

Hyemi peers over the edge of the roof, her fingers digging into the rough cement tiles, and sees nothing but pitch black below her. Blinking, Hyemi looks back over her shoulder, and she’s met with the same exact darkness, a void she cannot see the end of. The only thing that exists, besides herself, is the roof she’s lying on, and she can’t move her limbs. She can’t stand up.

(She’s frozen to her spot, waiting for Baekhyun to show up, to catch her when she falls, despite the fact that she’s surrounded by nothing and he is clearly not there.)

 The silence engulfs her, pounding against her eardrums, until she has to squeeze her eyes shut in an attempt to block it all out.

She opens her eyes when she hears whistling, soft and pretty and warm.

She opens her eyes and she’s sitting in the passenger side of a truck, limbs still frozen in place, unable to move. Hyemi stares out over the windshield, at the darkness, barely illuminated by the headlights, before she glances to the side, her eyes widening when she sees Baekhyun sitting there, a sharp grin plastered across his face, seemingly permanent.

(This isn’t a memory; she’s one hundred percent positive about that.)

“I thought you’d never wake up.” He says, in a cheerful voice.

“’Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry. We’re already here.” Baekhyun parks the car, the movement so jerky that it has Hyemi’s head spinning. She watches in confusion as he turns off the engine before he turns to her, pointing his chin out her window.

She turns her head, slowly, following his gaze, his smile gleaming in the darkness, contrasting brightly against the darkness surrounding them. It takes her a minute to decipher her surroundings, her chest tightening for some inexplicable reason.

The moonlight, the twinkling stars, barely light up the darkness and she has to squint to make out exactly what they’re parked next to. She peers through the car window, her heart pumping in her chest, and she can make out something made out of marble, moonlight flickering off it.

But her eyes adjust and when she sees the headstone her chest hurts.

When she sees the shovel, the dirt piled to the side, the open, gaping hole, she feels like she’s choking on every breath she takes in.

She jerks away from the window, turning to Baekhyun, and he just smiles at her, though this time there’s sympathy in his eyes and a certain gentle softness to his face, even as he shakes his head, nodding towards the tombstone sitting beside the car. He gently reaches out and pushes her face towards the tombstone, making her look, and an involuntary whimper leaves her lips.

(She can’t make out the name engraved there, but she sees the gaping hole in front and she has a dreadful feeling it’s for her. But why is Baekhyun the one taking her there? Why is he escorting her to her grave?)

Her chest rises and falls, breathing ragged, and Baekhyun gently, carefully, brushes at her cheeks, catching her tears in his fingers. Tiny goosebumps form wherever he touches her, his fingers cold.

“Oh, Hyemi.” He murmurs, his voice right against the shell of her ear, touch delicate, as if she’s as fragile as the finest of glassware. His voice is smooth as velvet and his fingers are lighter than a feather, caressing her cheek gently. “Oh, baby. It’s not time for that just yet.”

Hyemi’s nails dig into her palms and she wonders if death would be kinder than this feeling flooding her body, the heaviness in her chest, in her limbs so painful that she feels utterly helpless right then. But her voice, her lips move on their own accord, and her voice is steadier than she ever imagined it would be. The strength in her voice makes her feel so much better, “What are you talking about?”

Baekhyun taps the bottom of her chin with his pointer finger three times, a soft chuckle tumbling from his lips. “Look beyond the grave, love.”

And she does, she tears her eyes away from the open grave.

Her brows curl in confusion, her heart rattling against her ribs. “It’s a burning house.”

“Yes,” He breathes, his hand tiptoeing down her arm, until he’s wrapping his cold hand around her fingers, pulling at the tight grip, angry red crescents no doubt forming on her palms. He rubs at the skin, massaging away the pain. “When was the last time you saw a burning house.”

“I don’t—”

“Think.” He growls the word and it’s so hostile that she jumps. Then his voice smooths out and it’s sweet again. “Think carefully.”

So she does.

And then her eyes widen a fraction of an inch, “The vision about Chanyeol.”

“Yes.” He lets go of her hand, tapping her cheek again. “Keep looking beyond the grave.”

So she does.

And she sees a cave entrance, lit up by a single torch, far in the distance. She sees a phoenix curling its wings, glinting beneath moon as if lands on the tombstone. She sees the tree, glowing with life, so so far away, surrounded by a field of flowers, glowing so brightly that all she wants to do is go there. She sees the number twelve.

And then she sees a pure white eye set upon deep, dark black staring at her, looming over everything else. The moon blinks and only then does she realize that the moon is the other eye and fear engulfs her entire being.

It blinks.

It blinks and Baekhyun speaks, voice echoing in her head, “Do you see it now?” She tries to speak but nothing leaves , her eyes are stuck on the giant eyes looming over them, outside of the car. “Do you see Yeonma?”

There’s something reverent in Baekhyun’s tone, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the moon-eyes, not until there’s a knock at the car window beside her. Only then is she able to look away.

She’s met with another version of herself, though there’s something more regal about her, something more beautiful. It’s the beautiful version of herself, from the vision so long ago. She taps on the window and Hyemi watches as Pretty Hyemi smirks, wiggling her fingers in a half-hearted wave before she backs away.

Rain spills to the ground, ruining Pretty Hyemi’s makeup, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face like dark tears, despite the smirk plastered across her face.

She keeps backing away, one step at a time, rain soaking her completely, and Hyemi shakes her head rapidly because she’s walking back into the grave, into hell.

Pretty Hyemi just grins and blows her a kiss and Hyemi murmurs stop, stop, stop until she’s hoarse, until Pretty Hyemi tumbles back into the grave, headfirst, and the Old Hyemi, from the vision long ago, weeps into a handkerchief while Pretty Hyemi’s mysterious lover, from that very same vision, shovels dirt into the open grave, sealing it shut, his face shadowed and unrecognizable.

All the while, rain pours over everything, soaking everything to its very core.

Hyemi sits there, the coldness bone-deep, and watches Pretty Hyemi get buried in the downpour, until there’s a featherlike tap against her chin.

The silence feels like a melody all on its own, timed by the rhythm of raindrops, engulfing Hyemi in something cold, something frightening.

Baekhyun stares at her the entire time, gaze analytical, before he murmurs, “Do you see?”

His image flickers then, light fracturing in the darkness, bright and blinding and—

~.~.~.~.~

Hyemi jolts awake, her skin clammy from sweating, no doubt, and she realizes that it’s not dark anymore, the bright orange sun engulfing them in warmth and light. She still feels cold, even as she sits up, pushing her messy hair out of her eyes as she tries to catch her breath. She’s so exhausted, her heart still fluttering rapidly in her chest, and she can barely sit up, let alone stand.

Sehun’s kneeling at Jongdae’s side and wrapping up one of his wounds with a clean bandage, while Jongdae swallows another medic pill, his expression twisting in discomfort. It takes her another long moment to notice that Baekhyun is stirring something in a pot, over the fire beside her. When she stares at him, he meets her gaze.

The silence between them is too much for her, but then he opens his mouth and she thinks it’s some kind of miracle. He’s speaking to her, that’s all she can think of. “Do you need a pill?” He murmurs, quietly.

His voice carries in the clearing though and Jongdae glances at her over Sehun’s shoulder. Sehun looks back at her.

She nods, slowly, and Sehun digs through his bag, before trudging over to her on his knees. She swallows the medic pills, avoiding Baekhyun’s eyes on her, and sighs at the strength seeping back into her.

“You shouldn’t take too many of those.” Baekhyun says, his tone casual. He’s staring at the pot, stirring it carefully, but his jaw is tense. “Your body may start getting immune to them and then you’ll need higher dosages.”

Hyemi sighs, rubbing her eyes, “My visions are becoming more and more physically draining.”

Baekhyun stirs the pot and the tension in the air is almost suffocating. Hyemi notices the way Jongdae and Sehun exchange an awkward look and she knows she’s not imagining the tension.

(If anything, she should be the only one acting tense, seeing as her visions consisted of Baekhyun being strange.)

“Yeah?” He asks, though there’s not a single inkling of curiosity in his voice, the planes of his body rigid and tense. “It was just a suggestion.”

That’s when she snaps.

“Okay, you know what?” Hyemi crosses her arms and her legs, sitting cross-legged before the fire as she glares daggers at Baekhyun. “I think we need to talk.”

Baekhyun stops stirring for a moment, his jaw clenching, before he finally looks up at her, meeting her gaze. “I don’t think we do.”

“Baekhyun—”

That’s when Baekhyun slams the pot on the ground, cutting her off as he shoots up to his feet. “Eat the damn breakfast. We need to find the path and head out as soon as possible.”

He ignores her and walks away and she watches the way the light around him fractures, patches of him glitching as he disappears behind the trees.

Hyemi looks at Sehun and Jongdae, the former snorting unattractively, while the latter gives her a pointed look.

“What?” She asks, blinking.

“Go after him, you idiot.” Jongdae lolls his head, exasperated, and she blinks, confused. “Don’t let him go. Physically letting him go right now also makes it a hypothetical, emotional thing, and that’s really ed up.” Hyemi blinks in confusion at him and Jongdae eyes her as if she’s just grown another head. “Just go make him talk to you. Make it quick, though, we really do have to leave as soon as possible.”

She slowly gets to her feet and both Sehun and Jongdae wave her off. “We have no time to deal with relationship problems, Hyemi, we’re in a ing war. Fix this, now.” Sehun demands, even as he reaches for the pot of whatever Baekhyun was cooking up, frowning at it with a delicate wrinkle of his nose.

Hyemi makes a face, but she follows after Baekhyun anyways, because Sehun and Jongdae are right.

~.~.~.~.~

It’s easier to find him then she expected. He’s leaning against a tree, his neck outstretched as he stares up. She steps on a branch, then, and his head jerks downwards and only then does she see his glittering eyes, filled to the brim with unshed tears and her heart twists roughly in her chest.

“Baekhyun…” She murmurs, her irritation dissolving immediately.

Like a glitch in a video game, his face fractures right in front of her, and she watches as his tearful expression glitches, reforming into an angry twist. “What do you want?”

He’s bitter and angry and her heart breaks over and over again as she looks at him.

“I’m sorry.” She says, stepping towards him until she’s just a step away. He looks down at her, expression stoic and cold and closed off. “I’m sorry.” She repeats.

“For what?” Baekhyun asks, rolling his eyes. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

His words are double-edged and she looks away, her heart fluttering. She struggles for a moment, struggles to wrangle her stubbornness away, clenching her fist as she tries. She needs to make this right. Because they’re in a war and they could die at any moment and she needs to make this all better. She needs to stop the vindictive anger from bubbling up in her chest (where the hell did that even come from?) and she needs to tell him the truth.

“About everything.” She says, suddenly, though she can’t quite meet his eyes. “About making it seem like I don’t trust you, when I do. I do, God, I trust you so much. I don’t think I know how to do anything but trust you and that’s what ing terrifies me. And about…about everything I said to you, just to see you hurt as much as I did. About hurting…” Her voice cracks then, but she keeps going, she trudges on because she needs to make this right. “Hurting those people, your mother’s family. About hurting you. I’m just. I’m sorry.”

She can’t meet his eyes and he doesn’t utter a word.

For some reason, this only makes her blurt out more words, speaking rapidly as she word-vomits into the deafening silence, “I need you, too. And it scares me, because I don’t want to need you this much. But I think. I have trust issues.” She laughs, bitterly, the words just spilling from her lips, “It’s kind of obvious, but then you keep all these secrets and it scares me. I trust you, but at the same time, I don’t know if it’s a good idea and it’s all so confusing. Baekhyun, I’m sorry. I’m just. I’m scared. I get these urges to just, hurt people and it’s ing horrifying. I don’t want to be a monster. And. And. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing and it makes everything worse when you’re not there to help and I’m sorry and, God, I can’t stop talking. I’m just going to—I’m shutting up.”

Hyemi nearly smacks herself in the face with the velocity in which she shoves her hand over her own mouth, her cheeks heating up and her breathing rapid due to the utterly disgusting word-vomit she just did.

It’s quiet, so so quiet, for the longest time, the breeze whistling between the branches of the bare trees above them. It takes her a full two minutes to muster up the courage to look at him, and when she does, she’s met with melting brown eyes and the smallest upwards tilt to his pink lips.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, voice muffled by her hands still covering .

And then he reaches out and tugs her hands away from before he pulls her towards him by the waist, his warmth seeping into her, reminding her of how much she missed him. He wraps his arms around her, tugging her into a hug, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and she blinks in surprise, her arms outstretched but hovering over him.

She opens to say something but he holds her tighter, mumbling a soft, “Don’t talk. Please.”

So she just nods and wraps her own arms around him, burrowing away into his soft form. They stumble a bit, when she gives in fully, and Baekhyun steps backwards, half-carrying half-dragging her with him, until his back hits the tree and they slowly sink to the ground, Baekhyun never moving his face away from the crook of her neck.

They curl against the tree, limbs entangled, and Hyemi finds a comfortable position with her face pressed to the top of his head, his smell comforting, and her legs tangled with his, even as she sits on his lap, his warmth inviting.

(It should be uncomfortable, but the intimacy of it leaves her breathless and she can’t stop worrying about him.)

That’s when he starts talking, his voice muffled against her shoulder, his face hidden, and she can’t do anything but his spine, shivering when his hands rest at her lower back, holding her close.

“My father and my mother loved each other.” He says, his words echoing. She closes her eyes and listens to his soft, low voice, imagining the story. “But my father was a wall-dweller and he was promised to another, like most upper class families are.” She feels him sigh against her neck. “My mother was a dreamer. Her family, her—my kind, they’re not supposed to be able to walk in the sun. They thrive in darkness. I don’t know exactly how, no one knows, really. But one day she gained the ability to walk in the sun. I hear rumors that she made a deal with the devil, but. I don’t know. No one knows. Either way, she dreamed of princes and princesses and a huge outdoor wedding with a man she loved. She dreamed of the sun and light. I was told that she had a condition for her ability to walk in the sun. She had to kill her first love. Only then would she be free. Otherwise she’d return to the darkness and live at the mercy of her family, forever known as a betrayer. As ruined.”

“She didn’t do it,” Hyemi rests her cheek on the top of his head, closing her eyes when he traces characters into the broad expanse of her back. “Did she?”

“No.” Baekhyun shakes his head. “I don’t know how she avoided the condition. I don’t think anyone does except for my father and my mother, but my grandmother said that my father vowed to take her place. That he took the dagger she was meant to kill him with and put it to his throat without hesitation. Something happened that night, my grandparents don’t know what, but whatever it was ended with my parents making it out alive and a marriage. However, after the wedding, my grandmother says that my mother needed constant light in her life. She said that the moment my mother stepped into darkness, she would be snatched away. She couldn’t even sleep.”

Hyemi smiles, then, involuntarily. “Then you were born. And you have the power of light.”

“Everyone thought I was given to her by the Tree as a gift, a way to protect her.” Hyemi feels wetness against her skin, then, and she freezes up. Baekhyun is crying and all she can do is hold him tightly and try her best to soothe him with her touch. “But she still died in the end. Both of them did.”

Hyemi’s heart clenches because she did that. “I’m sorry.” She croaks out.

He shakes his head, his sniffle so soft she nearly misses it. “It wasn’t your fault. You were just a baby.”

“And so were you.” Hyemi says, quickly, her fingers curling around the back of Baekhyun’s shirt. She pulls away from him, but he follows after her, remaining in the crook of her neck. She sighs and drags a hand through his hair. “You were just a baby, too. It wasn’t your fault either.”

“Either way.” Baekhyun mumbles, “My uncle was right about everything.” It’s quiet for a long moment before Baekhyun leans away from her, finally revealing his face. She stares at him, perched on his lap, and her eyes flicker over the red rimmed eyed, the wetness clinging to his lashes, the pinkness in his cheeks, and her heart swells. She reaches out and carefully presses her palm to his cheek, thumb brushing away the wetness there. Slowly, he reaches up for her hand, wrapping his warm fingers around hers. It feels so much better than the cold fingers from her visions and she sighs when he pulls her hand off his cheek and presses it to his soft lips. “It’s always there, the darkness. I can always feel it inside of me. He was right.”

She shakes her head, watching as he turns her hand and presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist, along the delicate skin there. “Maybe you can’t run from it, but you can overcome it.” She murmurs, simultaneously wondering why she doesn’t follow her own advice while she’s at it.

“I forgot that you don’t believe in fate.” Baekhyun murmurs, even as he threads his fingers through hers, his fingers fitting into the empty spaces between hers perfectly.

She smiles, even as he keeps a grip on her wrist, his other hand finding her chin. His thumb brushes along her bottom lip and shivers in his lap. He smiles.

“Destiny is bull.” She tells him.

“So you think it’s just coincidence that you ended up here as the vessel of the Tree?” Baekhyun asks, his lashes still wet, though there’s a twinkle in his eyes and playfulness to his tone she missed so much.

“Yeah.” She mumbles, distracted by the way he pulls her face closer to his, fingers gripping her jaw. Her fingers tighten around the back of his shirt.

“Meeting me was just coincidence?” Baekhyun asks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes darting down to her lips.

She takes a deep, shaky breath and breathes out a soft, “Yeah.”

“Well, I believe in destiny.” Baekhyun says, his lips hovering right over hers, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin on the inside of her wrist, while his other hand holds her head steady, making sure she can’t swoop in and initiate the kiss.

“Really?” She asks, without a single bit of curiosity. She just wants to kiss him.

He grins. “Yup. I believe my lips were destined to meet yours.”

And then Hyemi bursts into startled laughter, despite the tension, and groans loudly, her cheeks reddening. “You ruined the moment.”

Then he kisses her, pressing his lips firmly against her, and they both smile into the kiss. “Did I really?” He asks, when he pulls away to take a breath. And then he kisses her again and again and again, pressing kiss after kiss against her lips until she’s smiling and blushing and melting into his lap, his fingers finding the nape of her neck. When he finally pulls away, she reaches up and brushes the remaining wetness from his eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and he kisses her palm after she’s done, a soft, fond smile tugging constantly at his lips.

~.~.~.~.~

“No more secrets.” She whispers against his lips, her back pressed to the tree and his hand resting at the base of .

Slowly, he pulls away, his hair a mess and his lips pink and swollen, and he nods. “No more secrets.” He repeats, quickly dipping down to press a kiss to the corner of .

He reaches for her hand and leads her out of the clearing, back to Sehun and Jongdae.

~.~.~.~.~

A long time later, after Jongdae and Sehun finally stop making kissy faces at the two of them and they’re well on the right path again, Sehun’s nose practically buried in the map given to them by Heechul and Donghae, Jongdae peers out over the horizon, the eerie neighborhood where Baekhyun’s family lives long behind them. His expression quickly morphs from his ever-present amusement to stoic concern.

Then Hyemi feels it, the tug at her soul, as if the more they walk, the closer she’s getting to something incredibly powerful.

“We’re getting closer.” Jongdae murmurs. “I can already feel the power and we’re probably still miles away.”

Baekhyun glances over at Jongdae for a moment before he reaches for Jongdae’s hand and gently squeezes it, reassuringly. Jongdae gives Baekhyun a tight smile and Baekhyun sighs.

Before either of them can say a word, Sehun speaks up from up ahead, “It’s a city. We need a safe place to rest.”

Hyemi joins Sehun’s side and peers past the trees, up a dirt path road, where a city lies. It’s huge and Hyemi stares up at the wall surrounding it, the same as the one that had surrounded the kingdom. “There are more walls?”

“Yeah.” Sehun says the word as if it should be obvious. “This is a big planet, Hyemi. There are thousands of cities surrounded by walls, beyond the main wall.”

“So we’d be safe in there, right?” Hyemi stares at the city, the ominous moss-covered wall looming over them, the ends of the city nowhere in sight.

Jongdae purses his curly lips while Sehun’s brows curl with uncertainty. Baekhyun just sighs, “We’ll see when we get there.”

“Great.” Hyemi mumbles, because she’s ninety-nine percent sure entering that city’s going to be a bad idea.

When they reach the foot of the wall, where the giant steel doors loom over them, covered in rust, Baekhyun knocks on the door and they begin to slowly creak open, the awful squeaking and creaking earsplitting.

They’re doused in blinding, white light so suddenly that Hyemi flinches, covering her face with her hands, her vision spotting with black dots.

A deep voice booms and echoes, as if the voice is bouncing off the walls, a gigantic force to be reckoned with.

“Put your hands up where I can see them. Now.”

 a/n: Happy new year everyone!!! The title song is literally one of my favorite songs in the world and the original is the cutest thing in the world (while the one I liked it more fitting I think, but also more beautiful and kinda sad, though they're the same song) It sets the mood for like all the fluffy-angst parts ngl.

***I also wanted to add a disclaimer here that Baekhyun's parent's story is based off the story of The Little Mermaid/the story the exo song 'baby don't cry' is about!! Shout out to the saddest exo song ever oh god.

As always, thank you all and let me know your thoughts and things down below! They've reconciled!!! yes!!! or have they??? ahhh ;_;

xoxo <3