the seven husbands of y/n l/n ✷ gi

in which a star is made of cloth

'Who knew he could achieve such grace.' Remarked Y/N under the mask of indifference. Thoughts conjuring themselves anew. 

It was as if Capitano was abruptly taught the fashions of the world. Even the manner of his speech seemingly grew all the more eloquent and frank. He no longer buried his head behind a bush of bashful remarks as he did as a child despite being close in age. The plump and mellow tone of his face chipped away as the stars carved a statue fit for exhibition. From the sharpness of his jaw to his potent cadence, it felt as if he was drifting farther than Y/N's own eyes could take her. 

They were once mere children, huddled amongst a dimming fire as they spoke of grandeur and endless food. Such images engrained themselves into Y/N's head like a prayer or promise that was based on neither fact nor folly. It was, as they say, a blink, and the years flutter by like a simple turn of a page. Then, you shall learn to stand amongst friends whose names are those of strangers. 

Perhaps it was the rotting wish of a withering star to preserve a plain of euthymia in which one does not alter despite the ticking of time. However, that is a wish that even the universe would fail to grant, time and time again. 

"Are you done with your stack?" Inquired Capitano whose stack of cloth seemingly vanished. 

Y/N blinks, drawing back to the bitterness of the cold, "Oh, I'm almost done. I have ruffly five left." 

Capitano nods plainly. There is a prompt silence, however, it is swiftly overturned when Capitano remarks in a sincere tone of curiosity, his placid eyes gleaming slightly, "I see you are wearing the scarf." 

Y/N abruptly pauses her cutting as her mind wanders to the sensations of the broad scarf keenly wrapped around her neck leading up to a bit of her chin. The scarf possessed the scent of coal fires, the fragments of dusty books and chalk dust. In contrast to Y/N's garments, the scarf was seemingly fresh. Each stitch was firmly linked together while the scarf was as black as a midnight sky. In addition, fringe was to be found on the ends along with a peculiar stitch of a name in emerald green.  

To be more specific, the name that was assiduously stitched in poised cursive was 'L/N'.

"Yes, I am clearly wearing the scarf," remarked Y/N in a tone of chaff sarcasm, not bothering to spare him a glance, "Considering you did give it to me..." Y/N's voice wanders before she piqued exuberantly, "Where did you find the scarf anyways?" 

Capitano emits a prompt baritone chuckle before he stands up, eyes lingering a touch longer than they should as Y/N now glances his way, "That, is a secret." 

Y/N sighs, admitting to a definite defeat. She knew Capitano- whatever secrets were nestled in his chest like a beating yet caged animal remained there: steadfast and voiceless amidst his tactful endeavours. Nevertheless, with that potent fact, Y/N has never once failed to artfully lock the gates of his chest. 

"Sure..." replied Y/N dubiously, setting her scissors aside, "Where are you going now?" she paused before continuing with an air of disquiet, "It's getting late." 

Capitano simply brushes her remarks aside as he voices nonchalantly, "I need to head out on for the night... It is simple truly." 

Y/N raises an eyebrow in both disdain and further doubt. Thus, she springs up from her seat, disregarding the last few remnants of work as she finds herself by his side. The stack of stars silently fell in response. "Perhaps... you could use a partner," she tilts her head up to him, the spark of youth flickering alive like a giddy rush of bliss. 

"And what about--"

Y/N instinctively sends him a strained smile in an interjection, "Don't worry about the play, I have everything worked out."

Capitano pauses; rummaging for a witty reply. However, he heaves a warm sigh whilst a tender smile grows on his lips: seemingly delicate like a feather gliding down to the snow-blanketed Earth. "Alright then." 

Thus, the two depart into a swirl of snowflakes as the moon grows closer to kissing the Earth, a trail of stardust behind each footprint. Y/N's scarf was wrapped gingerly around her neck as she exhaled a plum of silver breath; gazing into a sea of dreams, all too occupied to notice his eyes as he gazed at his star. 

The one standing next to him. 

NOTES FROM KYLE !

What a chapter. 

Btw, TY ALL SM FOR THE SUPPORT I NEVER WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THIS BOOK WOULD GAIN THIS AMOUNT OF TRACTION.