Memories of Battle; Moments of Change 1/2
Title: Memories of Battle; Moments of Change
Pairing: Yunho/FC, Changmin/FC
Rating: R
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I would totally make them act this out with me in the lead roll
Summary: I thought my life was pretty simple. A little rough, considering my neighborhood, my job ... my ability to kick ass. But then two guys come into my life and remind me of who I really am.
Warning: This is a het!fic, and told in first person from the female protagonist point of view. I wrote this a long time ago and totally forgot about it. I hope you all enjoy it!
Part 1:
I don’t live in the best neighborhood. Downtown, city streets, drug dealers, prostitutes. That sort of thing. But the rent is cheap. It isn’t unusual to see weird characters hanging about, but the two Asian guys dressed in black on black speedboards catch my attention.
Beyond just looking as I walk by them, I ignore them. The shorter one watches at me. I can tell, even though they both wear sunglasses. By the time I get up to my fourth floor apartment and get dinner ready, I’ve forgotten about them.
But I see them again the next day, and the next, and the next.
A couple weeks later, I’m walking with Karisa. She giggles suddenly, and I follow her gaze to the two Asians.
“Catie, you didn’t tell me you had new neighbors.”
“I don’t know if they are. They’ve been hanging out for a couple weeks.”
“The short one is really cute.”
I glance over at them. This is the first time one of them hasn’t worn the sunglasses. And Karisa is right. The short one is really cute. Hair falls into his brown eyes, and he brushes it away with a slim hand. Just before the sunglasses drop back into place, he meets my eyes. One corner of his mouth twitches in a smile. The taller one misses the exchange. His face is rounder, features wider, but he’s still incredibly attractive.
“I’ve never really noticed,” I say, still trying to break my eyes away from the shorter one.
After that I notice more details. One is taller than the other, but only just. The taller one has hair cropped close to his head. Both of them have bodies sculpted of muscles. They’ve made the other residents nervous, and the drug dealers and prostitutes walk on the opposite side of the street now. They stay on their speedboards, always at the ready. They’re constantly scanning the area.
The weirdest thing. They stiffen whenever they notice me. Like I’m going to jump them or something.
Or someone might jump you.
Someone tried. I took care of him pretty quickly. I didn’t take kung fu for six years for nothing. More than one person saw me break the guy’s knee and back kick him in the face. People leave you alone when they see something like that.
But now they have me on edge? What is their deal? And now, whenever I see them, I stiffen and look around. They definitely focus on me.
One day, as I leave my apartment, I pass the taller one on the stairs. He nods his head, but says nothing. I’ve never seen them in the building before, but I guess they live here. Why else are they ALWAYS around? The shorter one is just outside the building. He sees me coming and opens the door for me.
“Thanks,” I say automatically.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles.
Sweet Jesus, what a smile. I smile back.
After that, I always smile at them. Only the shorter one returns it on a consistent basis. And he’s the only one that talks to me. I notice that he says hello only when the taller guy isn’t there.
Somehow, I’ve let Karisa convince me to go out. And I mean, go out. “Get dressed up, get a bit tipsy, and dance with the hopes of getting laid.” Karisa’s exact words. I promise her that I’ll dress up and dance, but I have no desire to drink or get laid. I’m a few steps from the building when I hear a footfall behind me. I spin, ready for a fight, and the shorter one jumps back a step.
“Sorry,” he says.
“Are you following me?”
He smiles and jerks his head toward the building. We’re only just past the bottom step.
“Can’t blame a girl for being cautious,” I mutter.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
His accent is soft, but I can’t pinpoint the planet. He’s definitely not from Dahoeth. I stand there, fully conscious of my little black dress and heels. He’s only ever seen me in pants and t-shirts. This is the closest we’ve ever been to each other. He’s just a couple inches taller than I am. His shoulders look broader and his arms larger. Probably just the shadow.
He steps closer, and my breath catches, but he moves past me. He whistles suddenly, and a cab pulls up to the curb.
“Looking like that, you shouldn’t be walking,” he says.
I try to take offense, but he’s right. And I don’t have the money for a taxi.
“Take her wherever she wants to go,” he says as he hands the cab driver a bill. He opens the door for me. I really want to protest, really really want to protest, but he smiles and I graciously thank him.
“Be careful,” he says and shuts the door.
I take a deep breath and tell the cabbie where I planned to meet Karisa. It isn’t far and when we stop, I get handed change, enough to pay for all my drinks tonight, for really anything I want to. How much did that guy give him? I stick it into a concealed pocket on the side of my dress.
I haven’t relaxed in a long time, so I dance and dance and dance. It doesn’t matter who I dance with though. Shorter One’s smile is pervading my thoughts. Karisa meets a nice looking guy and stumbles out with him at about midnight. I follow, because there’s no way I’m going to be alone in a bar. Feeling guilty about spending the money, I flag down a cab and tell him my address.
Disappointment shoots through me as we pull up and I see neither of the Asian guys. I’m so used to seeing them there, that for the first time, I don’t feel safe. I scurry to the door and enter the code. Everything seems more sinister, darker, colder. I fumble with my key in the lock. I can’t breathe. Just have to be home. I’ll be safe at home.
Such delusions.
As soon as the door shuts, a strong arm wraps around me, pinning my arms. A firm hand clamps over my mouth. I freeze for a moment, and then bite the hand and back-kick at the knee. There’s an oof, but the hand doesn’t move, and the hold doesn’t lessen. I’m gearing up for another attack when a voice I recognize whispers, “Calm down. I won’t hurt you.”
There’s movement to the left, but in the dark, all I can see is a silhouette. I know I can take both of them if need be. I relax, lean against his body.
“Good. Thank you. I think you broke my knee.” There’s humor in his voice this time.
He moves his hand, and I take a deep breath. “Not the first one.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Yunho,” the other voice says. His voice is huskier, deeper, and nothing like the warmth from Yunho.
He ignores the warning and says, “It’s very important that you go into your room, change, go through your nightly routine and just pretend we aren’t here.”
“Why?”
“Someone is watching you.”
“Who?”
“As soon as you’re in bed, I’ll come and explain. I’m going to let you go. Count to three and then turn the light on.”
His arm loosens, his body moves away. His hand lingers on my elbow for a moment. I count to three and flip the light on. There’s no one there. I resist the urge to look for them. I can feel them. I think briefly of calling the cops, but I don’t think I’d get even halfway through dialing before they stopped me. Sometimes it’s just easier to do what crazy people who break into your apartment say.
Change into pajamas, eat a piece of bread with peanut butter, wash my face, brush my teeth. I turn the lamp on in my room and go through the rest of the place turning out lights. I read for only a few minutes, make a show of getting comfortable and then turn off the lamp.
Almost immediately, a weight settles on the other side of the bed. My breathing increases when he lies down. But he doesn’t touch me. I can’t tell if the other one is here or not.
“You’re being incredibly calm about all of this,” he whispers.
I don’t reply.
“We’ve been watching you, Alma,”
"That’s not my name.”
“Sure, it is. Oh, I know you go by Catie now, but that’s an alias.”
“What?”
“Just let me explain, okay?”
“Sure, crazy Asian guy. Go for it. Is this like a bedtime story?”
He stifles laughter. “If it makes you feel better. Your name is Alma. You’re one of our best fighters. Unfortunately, you’re rather good at your job, and now KelJae wants you dead.”
“KelJae?”
“Yep, the bad lady. Leader of a group of guerillas that are trying to overthrow the government. The assassination attempts on your life were increasing. There were three in one week before you were hidden.”
“Let me guess. Erased my memory, kept my abilities, hid me here and now you really need me and it’s time for me to go back.”
“Almost.”
“Look, Yunho.” I roll on my side toward him, and forget what I was saying. He’s close, on his side as well. I can just see him in the dim light coming in the half closed window. It’s never completely dark when you live in the city. Half of his face is in shadow. My eyes follow the dark line from just under his double eyelid, over the crest of his nose, and to his lips. I’m still looking at them when he smiles.
I clear my throat and look back at his eyes. “You do realize that I don’t believe this.”
He shrugs and rolls on his back. He puts his hands behind his head. The light highlights the curve of muscle along one arm.
“So who are ‘we’?” I ask. “You said I’m one of your best fighters.”
“The ShinKi.”
ShinKi is a planet about three light years from Dahoeth. Every now and then, the news reports something about the war that seems to be constantly marring that world.
“Where did you learn to fight?” he asks.
“I took lessons for six years.”
“What were the lessons like?”
I draw a blank for a moment, but then little bits of images come. Feet flying, hands slashing, but there are many people in front of me, to the side, more people than would be in a kung fu class. We’re all dressed in brown. The image turns, and I see the taller one, in my memory. Two rows ahead of me.
“Max,” I whisper. A sharp pain stabs at my eye. I can’t help but cry out, and Yunho’s hand is over my mouth.
“Yunho?”
“She remembered something.”
The pain subsides, drops to a dull ache, and I push Yunho’s hand from my mouth. I can feel the other guy’s presence in the room, though I can’t pinpoint his location.
“Anytime you remember something, you’ll get that stab of pain until you’ve recalled enough.”
“Yeah, then I don’t think I want to remember anything else. That hurt.”
“What do you remember?” the taller guy, Max, asks. He’s in the far corner, away from windows, away from light.
“You,” I whisper. “Training corps. You were ahead of me two notches.”
“Not for long. You were two notches ahead of me within a few weeks. You don’t remember Yunho.”
I look over at him. He’s smiling again.
“No, should I though? I don’t feel like I should.”
“You have never met.”
“And how long have we known each other.”
“Long.”
I look over at the corner. Try as I might, I can’t remember anything else. “More details please. I can’t remember just looking at you.”
“We were playmates, just before our town was-“
Pain laces through my head again as smoke fills my nostrils, gray clouds cover my face. People run, scream. I slip in blood. I am scooped up and dropped amongst other bodies, other children. A boy holds me. I somehow know that Max has never held me since.
Again, the pain fades. A cool towel presses against my forehead. Heat from Yunho’s body radiates down my side. Why is Max, a childhood friend, not doing this?
“The invasion?” Max asks.
I nod. “Is that what that was?”
“Yes, the ShinKin guerillas didn’t leave much alive, but a few of us were saved by some quick thinking adults.”
“So who is watching me?”
“We have a few spies in KelJae’s army and we were given the information that your whereabouts had been revealed. An impossibility since only I, Yunho and one other knew of it. The other, we found dead, tortured. Yunho and I came as soon as we could get here. As to who it is specifically, we’re not sure yet.”
“So why the sudden revelation of who you are. I was perfectly content with you two just randomly being outside my building.”
“We realized that we were probably scaring the watcher away.”
“No kidding. There hasn’t been a shooting around here since you guys got here. It’s been great for the crime rate.”
Yunho laughs. “We decided it’d be safer to tell you and get you back home where we can protect you.”
“Three assassination attempts in one week? That’s protecting me?”
“She has a point.”
“We’re following orders,” Max says. “We need you anyway.”
“Right. The best fighter thing. Do I at least get a good night’s sleep before we go?”
“We’re not going now. You need your memory back. And we need to see if we can catch whoever was sent to kill you.”
I look over at Max in the corner. “I remember you being a lot less serious than you are now.”
Silence.
Yunho shifts a bit closer to me. “His best friend’s memory was wiped and she was shipped to some hellhole three light years away. He’s been under a bit of stress.”
I know that’s not the whole story, but I can’t remember.
“So, do you believe us?” Yunho asks.
“I guess. It’s a bit crazy, and if I wasn’t exhausted, I probably wouldn’t.”
“Probably. Now, the plan is this. We would really appreciate it if you’d quit your job tomorrow. Once you start remembering things, you’ll be in no condition to work anyway. I’ll stay up here with you, but Max is going to patrol around, be a little more discreet about it, and see if he can flush out the assassin.”
“Please try to sleep,” Max says. “If you remember while you’re dreaming, the pain should be less.”
I don’t see Max move, but I suddenly know that he’s not there. I wait for Yunho to get up. Our legs are pressed together from hip to knee.
“Well?” I demand.
He chuckles. “Max said the pain should be less, not that it will. If you scream, I have to either wake you up, or keep you quiet, so I’m staying right here.”
Oh, hell. I roll away, curse myself for regretting the lack of body contact, and try to relax. It’s been a long time since I shared a bed with a man.
I do sleep, but not for long moments, and not very well. The times I wake are full of pain and cool towels and whispered reassurances. I’m conscious of things again when my alarm goes off. The warmth around me shifts, and the alarm silences. I burrow back into the body. I don’t realize I’m smelling the black shirt clutched in my hands until there’s chuckling above me.
I freeze. How long have I been curled around him like an over zealous puppy? I move away from him. Now that I’m aware, bits of the night flash around my mind. Lots of pain, but also lots of caresses, lots of comfort and soft words and strong arms, and holy shit, he kissed my head at least once.
But now I remember his name. Or at least that Max had mentioned him.
I remember a lot of things now. KelJae took over the guerillas six years ago. Of course, her first order of business was to destroy the Regency, just like all the others. We are and have always been better equipped. The rebels really don’t stand a chance. It’s going to be a matter of destroying their leader, but before we can do it, they kill their own leader and someone else takes over. Then everything changes. Fighting tactics, their spies, their headquarters. Sometimes they’re better equipped. Most of the time they’re not.
I hadn’t agreed with the idea of going into hiding. Only Max was able to persuade me.
Max. We really had been friends since childhood, but as we went through training, he grew cold and distant. I could still get him to smile every now and then, and I cherished each one, but even those few moments disappeared. When I needed his comfort, he wasn’t there. Someone else was, someone hardened by war and deaths. I can still see his smile though. I still have it. I hope there is someone in these worlds that can give it back to him.
“You need to call your work,” Yunho says.
He reaches around me, and I stiffen. Having only fuzzy memories of being so close to him is a bit disconcerting. He grabs my communicator, and I call the security place, tell them I’m quitting, and hang up on their sputtering. I’ve worked there for three years.
Three years.
“What’s been happening since I’ve been gone?” I ask.
“Same shit-”
“-smaller shovel,” I finish with a smile. Max’s line. “Is KelJae gaining more power?”
“Only in the number of followers. She’s targeted the younger ones. Teens, early twenties, those that are tired of their parents’ way of life.”
“Our way of life.”
“Yeah.”
“So why did you come to our side?”
His face hardens, his nostrils flare, his breath speeds up. He rises suddenly, closes all the blinds and starts hanging black sheets over the windows.
“KelJae and I … well, we were close. But that bitch. Someone told her that my best friend had been saying how he wanted out. I went to her room one night, and Joongie was there.” He voice hitches. Shoulders shaking. “Alive, but not for much longer. He begged me to help him. And KelJae just laughed. I watched him die.”
I wait until he’s done hanging the sheets. “I’m sorry.”
He leaves the bedroom. I stay in bed thinking. Did Max tell me that? No, just that I could trust him. And yeah, after something like that I can trust him. A few minutes later, he returns carrying two cups of tea.
“What else do you remember?” he asks.
“You. Well, your name. And that Max said I could trust you.”
“You can.”
“I know.”
He smiles, but it’s a different smile. Lost in his thoughts. He sips his tea. I forgot about mine.
“There are still some gaps, but I’m pretty sure I remember the important stuff.”
“Any more pain?”
“Just a stubborn ache in the back of my head.”
“I doubt that will go away. We are dealing with KelJae, after all. She’s been a headache for the last six years.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four, same as you and Max.”
“And I’ve been here for three years.”
“Just about.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“I just can’t remember why putting me here was a good idea.”
He laughs. “In hindsight, it probably wasn’t. Max was worried about you though. That’s why he went along with it. Do you remember the last assassination attempt?”
“No.”
“Max says you were in the hospital for two weeks after a decibel bomb went off less than two feet from you.”
Pain in my head again. I remember waking up in the hospital. And oh, yeah, there was pain, everywhere. White fuzz gathers around my head, the rooms swim, both in my memory and in real life. As everything clears and the pain subsides, I find myself again wrapped in Yunho’s arms. But I don’t move away. I can’t.
“Try to sleep,” he whispers, then with a soft laugh, he adds, “Try not to. I drugged your tea. You didn’t sleep well last night.”
I fight it for as long as I can. I hate being drugged.
“Just sleep.” His arms tighten around me as we settle to the bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And he doesn’t. He stays with me, cooks for me, brings me tea. Just when I think I can get out of bed, another memory hits and I collapse. I always wake up in his arms. By day three, the episodes are far enough apart that I can leave the room. We watch TV, play poker and waste the day away talking and laughing.
I only see Max once. On the fourth day, he comes in rather quietly, and catches the two of us curled up on the couch watching daytime soaps. His eyes narrow, and he asks Yunho if he can please see him outside.
When Yunho returns, I ask about it.
He grins and shakes his head. “Just Max being Max.”
We return to our position on the couch.
But now, it’s different. I settle against his side. He drapes his arm around me. But I’m not there for comfort, and there had been only one shot of pain early in the morning.
How many times have I done this just because I want to?
That scares me. I don’t remember wanting to be with a man. I have been, but before, there were battles to plan, fights to win and hostages to question. And while I remember doing all of those, they’re still not part of me, like I’m remembering someone else’s memories. They’re far away. Things that don’t matter right this minute.
All that really matters is the way Yunho’s hair falls in his eyes. The way he slinks from the bathroom after a shower, a towel around his waist. The way he smiles at me when he catches me watching him.
I definitely don’t remember blushing before.
-----
There is no pain the fifth day, and I sleep that night without waking. The sixth night, I get ready for bed, same routine, but instead of waiting for the light to go out, Yunho climbs under the covers before me.
I meet his eyes. There is no reason for him to be here. I hadn’t had any bursts of pain since yesterday. I know it. I know that he knows it. And yet, he lays there, smiling at me. I know that if I tell him to sleep on the couch, he will.
I turn off the lamp.
Tense energy radiates off me. He shifts, not closer, but just like he needed to be a bit more comfortable. His breathing steadies, but he’s not asleep yet. With a huff, I flop on my back. My foot hits his, and then settles around his ankle.
“Do you need me to brew some of my special tea?” he whispers.
“No,” I snap and roll back to my side.
His hands touch my shoulders, and I jerk away.
“You need to relax,” he says, and he starts kneading the muscles.
So not a good idea, but I have no power to stop him, and I honestly don’t want to. I roll to my stomach. He moves closer. His leg is touching mine. My foot wraps around his ankle again. I didn’t do it. I swear. Stupid foot.
His steady kneading turns to softer touches, still nothing below my shoulders. I press my face into my pillow to stifle a moan.
“Better?” he whispers. His breath tickles my ear.
“If I say no will you keep doing it?”
“No.” He settles next to me, on his side, body pressed completely against mine. His hand moves and rubs soft circles on my lower back.
Not a good idea. Without thinking, I push up and lay on my side, my back facing him. I can’t breathe as our bodies mold together. So familiar from the last few nights, but so completely different. His hand settles around my stomach. Again, our feet entwine.
His breath is soft on my neck.
I wait for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. This time, he does fall asleep. I move carefully onto my back. His arm stays around me, fingers settling on my side. It’s dark enough that I can’t really see him, but I’ve looked at him enough to turn the shadows into his face. His eyes are fluttering in sleep, his mouth is slightly open.
I wonder if I would like him if we met elsewhere. Being enclosed all day with no one else around has to be a factor in these feelings, but would it have mattered? The guy is witty, incredibly intelligent, and god, his body is fabulous. I think back to those years that don’t yet belong to me. There were always men around who were funny, intelligent and strong. But I was missing. I was different. I didn’t see them as anything but soldiers.
Except for Xiah.
I shut my eyes and hiss. Yunho is immediately awake, hovering over me, asking if I’m alright.
But I see only Xiah’s face. He was adorable. Not a soldier, but a runner. He brought us messages. We saw each other rarely, but each time, he had a smile for me, a joke, a song. He used to dance for me. I was cold to him for a long time, but he wore me down. He was my first man. The first to share my bed. The first I saw as something more than a tool.
His body was found just inside our borders.
“Alma, Alma.” Yunho’s voice sounds desperate. But I can’t answer him. I’m crying. I can’t remember the last time I cried. His body moves away, but I grab his shirt and pull him back. Plead. Don’t go. Please. Don’t.
He presses around me, arms holding me close, his head on mine. A soft kiss to my hair. Hands rubbing my back.
My nights with Xiah play, some on fast forward, others slow motion. All of it accompanied by excruciating pain. The day I saw his body, it felt like someone had pulled the world out from under me. But I ordered him to be buried, brushed off Max’s questions, and continued to plan a counter attack.
I know that I’m saying his name, over and over again.
Yunho says nothing that I hear, but the shush and fall of his voice is enough. My gasps echo through the bedroom. As I calm down, the noises make sense.
“It’s alright, Alma, whatever you’re seeing. Remember, it happened a long time ago. You’re here, safe, with me. There’s no one here. No armies, no war, no bodies. Just me and you. Nothing to hurt you. Nothing to-”
“What about you?” I ask, startling him into silence. I look up at him. “What happens on the day they bring me your body? I can’t-”
I break off with a sob, burying my face into his chest and hold him as close as I can, legs wrapped together, everything pressed together. His arms tighten. There’s another kiss to my head, but he doesn’t lie. He doesn’t say that nothing will happen to him, that he’ll be alright.
My crying subsides again. His hands rub soft circles on my back and through my hair.
“I’ll go make you tea.”
“No. Don’t leave. Ever.”
His hands catch mine, and he moves away. “You need to sleep. I’ll be right back.” He kisses my cheek. I’m too weak to hold him there, and I curl up in a ball and wait. Listening for any noise. He’s always so quiet. What if he left? What if someone besides Max was waiting for him and he’s already dead?
Before I can imagine his grisly death, he’s in the doorway carrying a cup, blowing on it. He sets it on the nightstand and climbs back in bed. I immediately curl around him. He shifts us until I’m sitting between his legs, propped up against his chest. One arm encircles my waist, the other grabs the tea and steadies it while I drink.
“I increased the dosage,” he whispers. “Just enough to get you to sleep faster.”
The warmth of the tea courses through me, and I suddenly relax, lean against him. Our cheeks touch, and I increase the contact and rub against his face. “Thank you,” I whisper. I flutter lips over his cheek, and then his hand is taking the tea cup. We’re settled to the bed. Another kiss on my cheek.
And all is dark until morning.
I wake up to soft voices. I recognize Yunho’s. He’s still holding me.
“-someone named Xiah.”
I stiffen.
“Alma?” It’s Max.
“I’m okay,” I say, but don’t uncurl from Yunho.
“She must have been burying that pretty deeply for it to suddenly happen after a day without any attacks.”
Yunho’s tone is curious, and I can’t blame him. I doubt I explained anything clearly last night.
“She was very close to him,” Max says.
I shiver.
Yunho’s arms tighten.
“I don’t think this is helping her.”
“She won’t let me go,” Yunho replies.
“Then I’ll stay out of it, because Alma is stubborn.”
I sit up quickly to tell him off, but he’s already gone. I huff. Yunho laughs. I turn to him. He props up on an elbow. His smile slowly disappears as the staring contest continues. Am I looking for something? Not really. Just looking. Wondering. I really have no idea who he is, how he will be in battle, if I can have him fight at my side.
I’ve relegated him to soldier already.
I turn away, bring my knees up and set my head in my arms. He shifts behind me, his hand touches my back.
“Are you going to fight when we get back?” I ask.
“Of course.”
The images of his dead body are suddenly there. A laser slice on his neck, burn marks on his chest and legs. Brown eyes vacant. No smiles.
I want to make him promise me not to, but I won’t.
His hands slide down my arms, tangle with my fingers. I lean against him, head dropping to his shoulder. My fingers trail along his thigh. His arm encircles me, brings our bodies closer. Our cheeks touch again.
“I can’t promise you that I’ll survive,” Yunho whispers, “but you can’t promise me that either. You’re the one with the assassin after you.”
I laugh as my hand rises to touch his other cheek. He catches it and kisses the tips of my fingers.
“Max is right,” I say and rub against his neck. “This probably isn’t helping me.”
His lips quirk in a smile. He turns enough that his next words flutter against the side of my mouth. “Probably not.”
Our lips touch, barely, but only until I’ve turned fully to face him. With an arm at my waist and one at my shoulders, he lowers me to the bed, the kiss deepening on the way down. God, can he kiss. His tongue slides along my bottom lip. I whimper and open my mouth to him. My body arches into his, his hand slides under my t-shirt to bare skin. I fling a leg around him, pull our bodies together, fall against the bed, trapping his hand underneath us until I sit up. His hand moves up the shirt while mine grabs the bottom of his. Our lips part long enough for me to pull it over his head. And then again, when my shirt follows. Our skin presses together, and everything slows down. The kisses lengthen, the caresses soften.
Yunho pulls back, stares at me, waiting for something, I suppose.
So I smile. He flashes his dazzling smile at me, and things pick back up.
He makes love like he does everything else. With surety, humor. Softness backed by a promise of strength and power. He’s in control, something I don’t give up easily, or often, but I know that he’ll give me what I need. His body covers mine, arms bent on either side of my face. We’re sharing breaths between kisses.
He’s wonderfully consistent even with my nails digging into his shoulders as heat burns through my body. He shudders above me, losing his momentum in jerks. Our bodies relax together, mouths find each other for a long kiss. Holding himself up, must be too much for him, he moves, lowers his body along mine, his head on my chest.
Our breathing steadies in the quiet. He sighs, cuddles closer, and places a lazy kiss to the side of my breast.
“Give me about five minutes,” he says.
“How about we go take a shower instead?”
“Fabulous idea. You get up first.”
I laugh. I attempt to get him off me, but he rolls us over instead. More kisses. The five minutes pass.
We spend our day in bed, eventually getting up for a shower. Clothes are only put on when Max is scheduled to show up. His report is brief. He’s closer, but the assassin is being elusive, especially now that I haven’t left my apartment in six days.
“We’re going back tomorrow,” he says, “whether I’ve found him or not. This is getting too dangerous. He could take a shot at me, and I’d never see it coming.”
I nod. “Good idea.”
Yunho sighs, but smiles when I look over at him.
“This isn’t a vacation,” Max snaps.
“I know that,” Yunho says, still looking at me.
“You’re endangering her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Wait,” I say, cutting Max off. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Max spits and storms out.
I turn to Yunho. “What does he mean?”
“He doesn’t want to see you get hurt again. He loves you, you know.”
I turn back to the door. That first day, I thought my relationship with Max had been drifting. But now I realize that it’s been non-existent for a long time.
Yunho’s arms wrap around me. He kisses my neck. “Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”
Sleep comes quickly and deeply. I wake up only once, when Yunho moves, and curl up more tightly against him.
But when I reach for him in the morning, he isn’t here.
Part 2: Moments of Change
.
Pairing: Yunho/FC, Changmin/FC
Rating: R
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I would totally make them act this out with me in the lead roll
Summary: I thought my life was pretty simple. A little rough, considering my neighborhood, my job ... my ability to kick ass. But then two guys come into my life and remind me of who I really am.
Warning: This is a het!fic, and told in first person from the female protagonist point of view. I wrote this a long time ago and totally forgot about it. I hope you all enjoy it!
Part 1:
I don’t live in the best neighborhood. Downtown, city streets, drug dealers, prostitutes. That sort of thing. But the rent is cheap. It isn’t unusual to see weird characters hanging about, but the two Asian guys dressed in black on black speedboards catch my attention.
Beyond just looking as I walk by them, I ignore them. The shorter one watches at me. I can tell, even though they both wear sunglasses. By the time I get up to my fourth floor apartment and get dinner ready, I’ve forgotten about them.
But I see them again the next day, and the next, and the next.
A couple weeks later, I’m walking with Karisa. She giggles suddenly, and I follow her gaze to the two Asians.
“Catie, you didn’t tell me you had new neighbors.”
“I don’t know if they are. They’ve been hanging out for a couple weeks.”
“The short one is really cute.”
I glance over at them. This is the first time one of them hasn’t worn the sunglasses. And Karisa is right. The short one is really cute. Hair falls into his brown eyes, and he brushes it away with a slim hand. Just before the sunglasses drop back into place, he meets my eyes. One corner of his mouth twitches in a smile. The taller one misses the exchange. His face is rounder, features wider, but he’s still incredibly attractive.
“I’ve never really noticed,” I say, still trying to break my eyes away from the shorter one.
After that I notice more details. One is taller than the other, but only just. The taller one has hair cropped close to his head. Both of them have bodies sculpted of muscles. They’ve made the other residents nervous, and the drug dealers and prostitutes walk on the opposite side of the street now. They stay on their speedboards, always at the ready. They’re constantly scanning the area.
The weirdest thing. They stiffen whenever they notice me. Like I’m going to jump them or something.
Or someone might jump you.
Someone tried. I took care of him pretty quickly. I didn’t take kung fu for six years for nothing. More than one person saw me break the guy’s knee and back kick him in the face. People leave you alone when they see something like that.
But now they have me on edge? What is their deal? And now, whenever I see them, I stiffen and look around. They definitely focus on me.
One day, as I leave my apartment, I pass the taller one on the stairs. He nods his head, but says nothing. I’ve never seen them in the building before, but I guess they live here. Why else are they ALWAYS around? The shorter one is just outside the building. He sees me coming and opens the door for me.
“Thanks,” I say automatically.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles.
Sweet Jesus, what a smile. I smile back.
After that, I always smile at them. Only the shorter one returns it on a consistent basis. And he’s the only one that talks to me. I notice that he says hello only when the taller guy isn’t there.
Somehow, I’ve let Karisa convince me to go out. And I mean, go out. “Get dressed up, get a bit tipsy, and dance with the hopes of getting laid.” Karisa’s exact words. I promise her that I’ll dress up and dance, but I have no desire to drink or get laid. I’m a few steps from the building when I hear a footfall behind me. I spin, ready for a fight, and the shorter one jumps back a step.
“Sorry,” he says.
“Are you following me?”
He smiles and jerks his head toward the building. We’re only just past the bottom step.
“Can’t blame a girl for being cautious,” I mutter.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
His accent is soft, but I can’t pinpoint the planet. He’s definitely not from Dahoeth. I stand there, fully conscious of my little black dress and heels. He’s only ever seen me in pants and t-shirts. This is the closest we’ve ever been to each other. He’s just a couple inches taller than I am. His shoulders look broader and his arms larger. Probably just the shadow.
He steps closer, and my breath catches, but he moves past me. He whistles suddenly, and a cab pulls up to the curb.
“Looking like that, you shouldn’t be walking,” he says.
I try to take offense, but he’s right. And I don’t have the money for a taxi.
“Take her wherever she wants to go,” he says as he hands the cab driver a bill. He opens the door for me. I really want to protest, really really want to protest, but he smiles and I graciously thank him.
“Be careful,” he says and shuts the door.
I take a deep breath and tell the cabbie where I planned to meet Karisa. It isn’t far and when we stop, I get handed change, enough to pay for all my drinks tonight, for really anything I want to. How much did that guy give him? I stick it into a concealed pocket on the side of my dress.
I haven’t relaxed in a long time, so I dance and dance and dance. It doesn’t matter who I dance with though. Shorter One’s smile is pervading my thoughts. Karisa meets a nice looking guy and stumbles out with him at about midnight. I follow, because there’s no way I’m going to be alone in a bar. Feeling guilty about spending the money, I flag down a cab and tell him my address.
Disappointment shoots through me as we pull up and I see neither of the Asian guys. I’m so used to seeing them there, that for the first time, I don’t feel safe. I scurry to the door and enter the code. Everything seems more sinister, darker, colder. I fumble with my key in the lock. I can’t breathe. Just have to be home. I’ll be safe at home.
Such delusions.
As soon as the door shuts, a strong arm wraps around me, pinning my arms. A firm hand clamps over my mouth. I freeze for a moment, and then bite the hand and back-kick at the knee. There’s an oof, but the hand doesn’t move, and the hold doesn’t lessen. I’m gearing up for another attack when a voice I recognize whispers, “Calm down. I won’t hurt you.”
There’s movement to the left, but in the dark, all I can see is a silhouette. I know I can take both of them if need be. I relax, lean against his body.
“Good. Thank you. I think you broke my knee.” There’s humor in his voice this time.
He moves his hand, and I take a deep breath. “Not the first one.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Yunho,” the other voice says. His voice is huskier, deeper, and nothing like the warmth from Yunho.
He ignores the warning and says, “It’s very important that you go into your room, change, go through your nightly routine and just pretend we aren’t here.”
“Why?”
“Someone is watching you.”
“Who?”
“As soon as you’re in bed, I’ll come and explain. I’m going to let you go. Count to three and then turn the light on.”
His arm loosens, his body moves away. His hand lingers on my elbow for a moment. I count to three and flip the light on. There’s no one there. I resist the urge to look for them. I can feel them. I think briefly of calling the cops, but I don’t think I’d get even halfway through dialing before they stopped me. Sometimes it’s just easier to do what crazy people who break into your apartment say.
Change into pajamas, eat a piece of bread with peanut butter, wash my face, brush my teeth. I turn the lamp on in my room and go through the rest of the place turning out lights. I read for only a few minutes, make a show of getting comfortable and then turn off the lamp.
Almost immediately, a weight settles on the other side of the bed. My breathing increases when he lies down. But he doesn’t touch me. I can’t tell if the other one is here or not.
“You’re being incredibly calm about all of this,” he whispers.
I don’t reply.
“We’ve been watching you, Alma,”
"That’s not my name.”
“Sure, it is. Oh, I know you go by Catie now, but that’s an alias.”
“What?”
“Just let me explain, okay?”
“Sure, crazy Asian guy. Go for it. Is this like a bedtime story?”
He stifles laughter. “If it makes you feel better. Your name is Alma. You’re one of our best fighters. Unfortunately, you’re rather good at your job, and now KelJae wants you dead.”
“KelJae?”
“Yep, the bad lady. Leader of a group of guerillas that are trying to overthrow the government. The assassination attempts on your life were increasing. There were three in one week before you were hidden.”
“Let me guess. Erased my memory, kept my abilities, hid me here and now you really need me and it’s time for me to go back.”
“Almost.”
“Look, Yunho.” I roll on my side toward him, and forget what I was saying. He’s close, on his side as well. I can just see him in the dim light coming in the half closed window. It’s never completely dark when you live in the city. Half of his face is in shadow. My eyes follow the dark line from just under his double eyelid, over the crest of his nose, and to his lips. I’m still looking at them when he smiles.
I clear my throat and look back at his eyes. “You do realize that I don’t believe this.”
He shrugs and rolls on his back. He puts his hands behind his head. The light highlights the curve of muscle along one arm.
“So who are ‘we’?” I ask. “You said I’m one of your best fighters.”
“The ShinKi.”
ShinKi is a planet about three light years from Dahoeth. Every now and then, the news reports something about the war that seems to be constantly marring that world.
“Where did you learn to fight?” he asks.
“I took lessons for six years.”
“What were the lessons like?”
I draw a blank for a moment, but then little bits of images come. Feet flying, hands slashing, but there are many people in front of me, to the side, more people than would be in a kung fu class. We’re all dressed in brown. The image turns, and I see the taller one, in my memory. Two rows ahead of me.
“Max,” I whisper. A sharp pain stabs at my eye. I can’t help but cry out, and Yunho’s hand is over my mouth.
“Yunho?”
“She remembered something.”
The pain subsides, drops to a dull ache, and I push Yunho’s hand from my mouth. I can feel the other guy’s presence in the room, though I can’t pinpoint his location.
“Anytime you remember something, you’ll get that stab of pain until you’ve recalled enough.”
“Yeah, then I don’t think I want to remember anything else. That hurt.”
“What do you remember?” the taller guy, Max, asks. He’s in the far corner, away from windows, away from light.
“You,” I whisper. “Training corps. You were ahead of me two notches.”
“Not for long. You were two notches ahead of me within a few weeks. You don’t remember Yunho.”
I look over at him. He’s smiling again.
“No, should I though? I don’t feel like I should.”
“You have never met.”
“And how long have we known each other.”
“Long.”
I look over at the corner. Try as I might, I can’t remember anything else. “More details please. I can’t remember just looking at you.”
“We were playmates, just before our town was-“
Pain laces through my head again as smoke fills my nostrils, gray clouds cover my face. People run, scream. I slip in blood. I am scooped up and dropped amongst other bodies, other children. A boy holds me. I somehow know that Max has never held me since.
Again, the pain fades. A cool towel presses against my forehead. Heat from Yunho’s body radiates down my side. Why is Max, a childhood friend, not doing this?
“The invasion?” Max asks.
I nod. “Is that what that was?”
“Yes, the ShinKin guerillas didn’t leave much alive, but a few of us were saved by some quick thinking adults.”
“So who is watching me?”
“We have a few spies in KelJae’s army and we were given the information that your whereabouts had been revealed. An impossibility since only I, Yunho and one other knew of it. The other, we found dead, tortured. Yunho and I came as soon as we could get here. As to who it is specifically, we’re not sure yet.”
“So why the sudden revelation of who you are. I was perfectly content with you two just randomly being outside my building.”
“We realized that we were probably scaring the watcher away.”
“No kidding. There hasn’t been a shooting around here since you guys got here. It’s been great for the crime rate.”
Yunho laughs. “We decided it’d be safer to tell you and get you back home where we can protect you.”
“Three assassination attempts in one week? That’s protecting me?”
“She has a point.”
“We’re following orders,” Max says. “We need you anyway.”
“Right. The best fighter thing. Do I at least get a good night’s sleep before we go?”
“We’re not going now. You need your memory back. And we need to see if we can catch whoever was sent to kill you.”
I look over at Max in the corner. “I remember you being a lot less serious than you are now.”
Silence.
Yunho shifts a bit closer to me. “His best friend’s memory was wiped and she was shipped to some hellhole three light years away. He’s been under a bit of stress.”
I know that’s not the whole story, but I can’t remember.
“So, do you believe us?” Yunho asks.
“I guess. It’s a bit crazy, and if I wasn’t exhausted, I probably wouldn’t.”
“Probably. Now, the plan is this. We would really appreciate it if you’d quit your job tomorrow. Once you start remembering things, you’ll be in no condition to work anyway. I’ll stay up here with you, but Max is going to patrol around, be a little more discreet about it, and see if he can flush out the assassin.”
“Please try to sleep,” Max says. “If you remember while you’re dreaming, the pain should be less.”
I don’t see Max move, but I suddenly know that he’s not there. I wait for Yunho to get up. Our legs are pressed together from hip to knee.
“Well?” I demand.
He chuckles. “Max said the pain should be less, not that it will. If you scream, I have to either wake you up, or keep you quiet, so I’m staying right here.”
Oh, hell. I roll away, curse myself for regretting the lack of body contact, and try to relax. It’s been a long time since I shared a bed with a man.
I do sleep, but not for long moments, and not very well. The times I wake are full of pain and cool towels and whispered reassurances. I’m conscious of things again when my alarm goes off. The warmth around me shifts, and the alarm silences. I burrow back into the body. I don’t realize I’m smelling the black shirt clutched in my hands until there’s chuckling above me.
I freeze. How long have I been curled around him like an over zealous puppy? I move away from him. Now that I’m aware, bits of the night flash around my mind. Lots of pain, but also lots of caresses, lots of comfort and soft words and strong arms, and holy shit, he kissed my head at least once.
But now I remember his name. Or at least that Max had mentioned him.
I remember a lot of things now. KelJae took over the guerillas six years ago. Of course, her first order of business was to destroy the Regency, just like all the others. We are and have always been better equipped. The rebels really don’t stand a chance. It’s going to be a matter of destroying their leader, but before we can do it, they kill their own leader and someone else takes over. Then everything changes. Fighting tactics, their spies, their headquarters. Sometimes they’re better equipped. Most of the time they’re not.
I hadn’t agreed with the idea of going into hiding. Only Max was able to persuade me.
Max. We really had been friends since childhood, but as we went through training, he grew cold and distant. I could still get him to smile every now and then, and I cherished each one, but even those few moments disappeared. When I needed his comfort, he wasn’t there. Someone else was, someone hardened by war and deaths. I can still see his smile though. I still have it. I hope there is someone in these worlds that can give it back to him.
“You need to call your work,” Yunho says.
He reaches around me, and I stiffen. Having only fuzzy memories of being so close to him is a bit disconcerting. He grabs my communicator, and I call the security place, tell them I’m quitting, and hang up on their sputtering. I’ve worked there for three years.
Three years.
“What’s been happening since I’ve been gone?” I ask.
“Same shit-”
“-smaller shovel,” I finish with a smile. Max’s line. “Is KelJae gaining more power?”
“Only in the number of followers. She’s targeted the younger ones. Teens, early twenties, those that are tired of their parents’ way of life.”
“Our way of life.”
“Yeah.”
“So why did you come to our side?”
His face hardens, his nostrils flare, his breath speeds up. He rises suddenly, closes all the blinds and starts hanging black sheets over the windows.
“KelJae and I … well, we were close. But that bitch. Someone told her that my best friend had been saying how he wanted out. I went to her room one night, and Joongie was there.” He voice hitches. Shoulders shaking. “Alive, but not for much longer. He begged me to help him. And KelJae just laughed. I watched him die.”
I wait until he’s done hanging the sheets. “I’m sorry.”
He leaves the bedroom. I stay in bed thinking. Did Max tell me that? No, just that I could trust him. And yeah, after something like that I can trust him. A few minutes later, he returns carrying two cups of tea.
“What else do you remember?” he asks.
“You. Well, your name. And that Max said I could trust you.”
“You can.”
“I know.”
He smiles, but it’s a different smile. Lost in his thoughts. He sips his tea. I forgot about mine.
“There are still some gaps, but I’m pretty sure I remember the important stuff.”
“Any more pain?”
“Just a stubborn ache in the back of my head.”
“I doubt that will go away. We are dealing with KelJae, after all. She’s been a headache for the last six years.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four, same as you and Max.”
“And I’ve been here for three years.”
“Just about.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“I just can’t remember why putting me here was a good idea.”
He laughs. “In hindsight, it probably wasn’t. Max was worried about you though. That’s why he went along with it. Do you remember the last assassination attempt?”
“No.”
“Max says you were in the hospital for two weeks after a decibel bomb went off less than two feet from you.”
Pain in my head again. I remember waking up in the hospital. And oh, yeah, there was pain, everywhere. White fuzz gathers around my head, the rooms swim, both in my memory and in real life. As everything clears and the pain subsides, I find myself again wrapped in Yunho’s arms. But I don’t move away. I can’t.
“Try to sleep,” he whispers, then with a soft laugh, he adds, “Try not to. I drugged your tea. You didn’t sleep well last night.”
I fight it for as long as I can. I hate being drugged.
“Just sleep.” His arms tighten around me as we settle to the bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And he doesn’t. He stays with me, cooks for me, brings me tea. Just when I think I can get out of bed, another memory hits and I collapse. I always wake up in his arms. By day three, the episodes are far enough apart that I can leave the room. We watch TV, play poker and waste the day away talking and laughing.
I only see Max once. On the fourth day, he comes in rather quietly, and catches the two of us curled up on the couch watching daytime soaps. His eyes narrow, and he asks Yunho if he can please see him outside.
When Yunho returns, I ask about it.
He grins and shakes his head. “Just Max being Max.”
We return to our position on the couch.
But now, it’s different. I settle against his side. He drapes his arm around me. But I’m not there for comfort, and there had been only one shot of pain early in the morning.
How many times have I done this just because I want to?
That scares me. I don’t remember wanting to be with a man. I have been, but before, there were battles to plan, fights to win and hostages to question. And while I remember doing all of those, they’re still not part of me, like I’m remembering someone else’s memories. They’re far away. Things that don’t matter right this minute.
All that really matters is the way Yunho’s hair falls in his eyes. The way he slinks from the bathroom after a shower, a towel around his waist. The way he smiles at me when he catches me watching him.
I definitely don’t remember blushing before.
-----
There is no pain the fifth day, and I sleep that night without waking. The sixth night, I get ready for bed, same routine, but instead of waiting for the light to go out, Yunho climbs under the covers before me.
I meet his eyes. There is no reason for him to be here. I hadn’t had any bursts of pain since yesterday. I know it. I know that he knows it. And yet, he lays there, smiling at me. I know that if I tell him to sleep on the couch, he will.
I turn off the lamp.
Tense energy radiates off me. He shifts, not closer, but just like he needed to be a bit more comfortable. His breathing steadies, but he’s not asleep yet. With a huff, I flop on my back. My foot hits his, and then settles around his ankle.
“Do you need me to brew some of my special tea?” he whispers.
“No,” I snap and roll back to my side.
His hands touch my shoulders, and I jerk away.
“You need to relax,” he says, and he starts kneading the muscles.
So not a good idea, but I have no power to stop him, and I honestly don’t want to. I roll to my stomach. He moves closer. His leg is touching mine. My foot wraps around his ankle again. I didn’t do it. I swear. Stupid foot.
His steady kneading turns to softer touches, still nothing below my shoulders. I press my face into my pillow to stifle a moan.
“Better?” he whispers. His breath tickles my ear.
“If I say no will you keep doing it?”
“No.” He settles next to me, on his side, body pressed completely against mine. His hand moves and rubs soft circles on my lower back.
Not a good idea. Without thinking, I push up and lay on my side, my back facing him. I can’t breathe as our bodies mold together. So familiar from the last few nights, but so completely different. His hand settles around my stomach. Again, our feet entwine.
His breath is soft on my neck.
I wait for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. This time, he does fall asleep. I move carefully onto my back. His arm stays around me, fingers settling on my side. It’s dark enough that I can’t really see him, but I’ve looked at him enough to turn the shadows into his face. His eyes are fluttering in sleep, his mouth is slightly open.
I wonder if I would like him if we met elsewhere. Being enclosed all day with no one else around has to be a factor in these feelings, but would it have mattered? The guy is witty, incredibly intelligent, and god, his body is fabulous. I think back to those years that don’t yet belong to me. There were always men around who were funny, intelligent and strong. But I was missing. I was different. I didn’t see them as anything but soldiers.
Except for Xiah.
I shut my eyes and hiss. Yunho is immediately awake, hovering over me, asking if I’m alright.
But I see only Xiah’s face. He was adorable. Not a soldier, but a runner. He brought us messages. We saw each other rarely, but each time, he had a smile for me, a joke, a song. He used to dance for me. I was cold to him for a long time, but he wore me down. He was my first man. The first to share my bed. The first I saw as something more than a tool.
His body was found just inside our borders.
“Alma, Alma.” Yunho’s voice sounds desperate. But I can’t answer him. I’m crying. I can’t remember the last time I cried. His body moves away, but I grab his shirt and pull him back. Plead. Don’t go. Please. Don’t.
He presses around me, arms holding me close, his head on mine. A soft kiss to my hair. Hands rubbing my back.
My nights with Xiah play, some on fast forward, others slow motion. All of it accompanied by excruciating pain. The day I saw his body, it felt like someone had pulled the world out from under me. But I ordered him to be buried, brushed off Max’s questions, and continued to plan a counter attack.
I know that I’m saying his name, over and over again.
Yunho says nothing that I hear, but the shush and fall of his voice is enough. My gasps echo through the bedroom. As I calm down, the noises make sense.
“It’s alright, Alma, whatever you’re seeing. Remember, it happened a long time ago. You’re here, safe, with me. There’s no one here. No armies, no war, no bodies. Just me and you. Nothing to hurt you. Nothing to-”
“What about you?” I ask, startling him into silence. I look up at him. “What happens on the day they bring me your body? I can’t-”
I break off with a sob, burying my face into his chest and hold him as close as I can, legs wrapped together, everything pressed together. His arms tighten. There’s another kiss to my head, but he doesn’t lie. He doesn’t say that nothing will happen to him, that he’ll be alright.
My crying subsides again. His hands rub soft circles on my back and through my hair.
“I’ll go make you tea.”
“No. Don’t leave. Ever.”
His hands catch mine, and he moves away. “You need to sleep. I’ll be right back.” He kisses my cheek. I’m too weak to hold him there, and I curl up in a ball and wait. Listening for any noise. He’s always so quiet. What if he left? What if someone besides Max was waiting for him and he’s already dead?
Before I can imagine his grisly death, he’s in the doorway carrying a cup, blowing on it. He sets it on the nightstand and climbs back in bed. I immediately curl around him. He shifts us until I’m sitting between his legs, propped up against his chest. One arm encircles my waist, the other grabs the tea and steadies it while I drink.
“I increased the dosage,” he whispers. “Just enough to get you to sleep faster.”
The warmth of the tea courses through me, and I suddenly relax, lean against him. Our cheeks touch, and I increase the contact and rub against his face. “Thank you,” I whisper. I flutter lips over his cheek, and then his hand is taking the tea cup. We’re settled to the bed. Another kiss on my cheek.
And all is dark until morning.
I wake up to soft voices. I recognize Yunho’s. He’s still holding me.
“-someone named Xiah.”
I stiffen.
“Alma?” It’s Max.
“I’m okay,” I say, but don’t uncurl from Yunho.
“She must have been burying that pretty deeply for it to suddenly happen after a day without any attacks.”
Yunho’s tone is curious, and I can’t blame him. I doubt I explained anything clearly last night.
“She was very close to him,” Max says.
I shiver.
Yunho’s arms tighten.
“I don’t think this is helping her.”
“She won’t let me go,” Yunho replies.
“Then I’ll stay out of it, because Alma is stubborn.”
I sit up quickly to tell him off, but he’s already gone. I huff. Yunho laughs. I turn to him. He props up on an elbow. His smile slowly disappears as the staring contest continues. Am I looking for something? Not really. Just looking. Wondering. I really have no idea who he is, how he will be in battle, if I can have him fight at my side.
I’ve relegated him to soldier already.
I turn away, bring my knees up and set my head in my arms. He shifts behind me, his hand touches my back.
“Are you going to fight when we get back?” I ask.
“Of course.”
The images of his dead body are suddenly there. A laser slice on his neck, burn marks on his chest and legs. Brown eyes vacant. No smiles.
I want to make him promise me not to, but I won’t.
His hands slide down my arms, tangle with my fingers. I lean against him, head dropping to his shoulder. My fingers trail along his thigh. His arm encircles me, brings our bodies closer. Our cheeks touch again.
“I can’t promise you that I’ll survive,” Yunho whispers, “but you can’t promise me that either. You’re the one with the assassin after you.”
I laugh as my hand rises to touch his other cheek. He catches it and kisses the tips of my fingers.
“Max is right,” I say and rub against his neck. “This probably isn’t helping me.”
His lips quirk in a smile. He turns enough that his next words flutter against the side of my mouth. “Probably not.”
Our lips touch, barely, but only until I’ve turned fully to face him. With an arm at my waist and one at my shoulders, he lowers me to the bed, the kiss deepening on the way down. God, can he kiss. His tongue slides along my bottom lip. I whimper and open my mouth to him. My body arches into his, his hand slides under my t-shirt to bare skin. I fling a leg around him, pull our bodies together, fall against the bed, trapping his hand underneath us until I sit up. His hand moves up the shirt while mine grabs the bottom of his. Our lips part long enough for me to pull it over his head. And then again, when my shirt follows. Our skin presses together, and everything slows down. The kisses lengthen, the caresses soften.
Yunho pulls back, stares at me, waiting for something, I suppose.
So I smile. He flashes his dazzling smile at me, and things pick back up.
He makes love like he does everything else. With surety, humor. Softness backed by a promise of strength and power. He’s in control, something I don’t give up easily, or often, but I know that he’ll give me what I need. His body covers mine, arms bent on either side of my face. We’re sharing breaths between kisses.
He’s wonderfully consistent even with my nails digging into his shoulders as heat burns through my body. He shudders above me, losing his momentum in jerks. Our bodies relax together, mouths find each other for a long kiss. Holding himself up, must be too much for him, he moves, lowers his body along mine, his head on my chest.
Our breathing steadies in the quiet. He sighs, cuddles closer, and places a lazy kiss to the side of my breast.
“Give me about five minutes,” he says.
“How about we go take a shower instead?”
“Fabulous idea. You get up first.”
I laugh. I attempt to get him off me, but he rolls us over instead. More kisses. The five minutes pass.
We spend our day in bed, eventually getting up for a shower. Clothes are only put on when Max is scheduled to show up. His report is brief. He’s closer, but the assassin is being elusive, especially now that I haven’t left my apartment in six days.
“We’re going back tomorrow,” he says, “whether I’ve found him or not. This is getting too dangerous. He could take a shot at me, and I’d never see it coming.”
I nod. “Good idea.”
Yunho sighs, but smiles when I look over at him.
“This isn’t a vacation,” Max snaps.
“I know that,” Yunho says, still looking at me.
“You’re endangering her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Wait,” I say, cutting Max off. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Max spits and storms out.
I turn to Yunho. “What does he mean?”
“He doesn’t want to see you get hurt again. He loves you, you know.”
I turn back to the door. That first day, I thought my relationship with Max had been drifting. But now I realize that it’s been non-existent for a long time.
Yunho’s arms wrap around me. He kisses my neck. “Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”
Sleep comes quickly and deeply. I wake up only once, when Yunho moves, and curl up more tightly against him.
But when I reach for him in the morning, he isn’t here.
Part 2: Moments of Change
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