After my last encounter with him, I started to see him around more.
I can attribute it to a few different reasons, one being that teaching calmed down quite a bit. It had taken a while but now we were all in a routine of sorts and the days were easier, the kids were well-behaved, and the material wasn't astronomically hard.
This meant I was able to streamline my work and spend more time outside of the classroom, which Jungkook said he hated because now I have more time to annoy him.
I saw him in the hallways, in the dining hall as he passed with his friends, and then a few months later, in the library.
It had been late at night; I hadn't been able to sleep and decided to take a walk instead of staying cooped up in my room.
The library was not big, and space on board was limited as it was, but it was nice to be able to have the feeling of real books from back home on this cold sterile ship.
I quickly found a book I had loved as a child and sunk down into a large beanbag chair near the large viewing window. The windows had two effects on people, the more common one was awe and wonder at the sights outside. The stars were beautiful and occasionally you could see a planet floating by, but some people had the opposite reaction. It was one of panic.
Those people were sent to therapists and were kept track of so that they could be helped with their traumas.
I was one of the first thankfully, even though I did go see Jimin often, both for friendship and for the occasional session. I had always loved the stars, even as a small child and I was more than happy to sit and watch them through this large window as the ship creaked around me.
I sighed at the stars and then cracked the book open, letting myself fall into the new universe as time passed. I was almost halfway done with the book when a noise startled me, it sounded like a scuffed foot, a thump, and a small, tired exhale of air. I looked around and my eyes went wide as I caught sight of him just lying on the floor to my right.
I called his name softly and asked if he was okay. He quickly looked up and his face flushed red, the white scar on his chin showing more clearly against the pink skin.
He quickly pressed himself up, and that's when I realized I could see his arms. He had only ever been wearing the normal long sleeve jumpsuit for as long as I could remember but tonight, he was wearing a short sleeve t-shirt with a pair of old army pants. The scaring on his arms was fascinating, and I could help but stare at the crisscrossing lines all over his forearms and biceps.
"They are ugly aren't they," He asked, looking down at them as he stood awkwardly.
I stood, book forgotten on the beanbag as I walked toward him, "No, quite the contrary."
He looked surprised but stayed still, waiting as I reached him.
"Can I touch them?" I asked, glancing up into his bottomless eyes. He stared into mine for a long moment before nodding, holding his arms out to me slightly.
I slowly traced a single finger down one of the lines, from elbow to wrist and he shivered. I smiled, glancing up to see him staring straight into my face.
"I think scars are beautiful," I whisper as I touch one on his other arm, this one an erratic line.
His brows furrow as if he can't understand why I would say that.
"Scars are proof of struggle. But they are even more proof of a win. You've won a battle, it's almost like a trophy."
"That's an interesting thought process," He whispers as if scared to speak any louder at this moment.
I reach up and pull down the collar of my own jumpsuit, showing him the faint scar across the base of my neck, "Mine isn't as big or as obvious but it's a visible mark of a very invisible and invalidated struggle."
His eyes go wide and one of his hands comes up, a finger pressing against the fine white line instinctively.
"What happened?" He asks, examining the mark.
"Thyroid cancer. Had to have it taken out when I was 17."
He slowly takes his hand away and I realize I was holding his other hand in mine. I begin to let go but then he squeezes my hand and I let him keep it, against every instinct in me.
"I'm sorry you went through that," He finally says, eyes back on my face as I let go of my collar.
I shake my head, "I'm fine. Eventually, I may run out of meds for it but until then, I'm totally fine," I pause, "I can't imagine it could be worse than a plane crash."
His eyes cloud slightly, and I kick myself, I shouldn't have brought it up, he was clearly still working through the trauma.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," I quickly backtrack as he lowers his gaze, but his hand doesn't leave mine. I grasp for something else, "Want to come and read with me for a while? Books can be great distractions from reality."
He looks back up at me and slowly nods, lets me lead him back to my giant bean bag, and falls onto it beside me. I show him my book and he tells me he recognizes it.
"You can read it if you want, I'll grab another," I move to stand again but he grabs my hand again, stopping me.
"Could you read it?" He asks, eyes pleading for me to understand a deeper question.
I hesitate, brows furrowed slightly, "Like out loud?"
He just nods, looking relieved that I understood, and I swallow, I don't really like reading out loud.
"Um, I'm not too good at it, I might stumble on the words," I say, gaze shifting away from him and his perfect face.
"I don't mind," He whispers, a ghost of a smile tickling his lips. I glance up to find understanding on his face and take a deep breath before nodding.
"Okay," I whisper back, determination in my voice as I crack the book open again, starting from page one for the second time that night.
He settles himself further into the bean bag next to me and I scoot a bit closer to him so that he could see the pages if he wanted and begin to read in a quiet voice. As I read, he runs his own fingers over the scars on his arms, as if contemplating what I had said earlier.
At some point, I must fall asleep because I wake up hours later when the false sun is rising on the ceiling and I sigh, already feeling exhausted and regretting staying up so late.
That's when I remember where I was and open my eyes and find my head resting on his shoulder. Both of us are still in the beanbag where we must have fallen asleep together.
He was holding one of my hands with both of his as his head rested on top of mine.
I jumped at the proximity, and he began to stir. And I have to admit, I ran away.
I was out of the library before he was fully awake, too nervous to face whatever the interaction last night had been in the "light of day" if that is what you want to call the fake sun on the ceiling.
Luckily it was not a school day, and I spent the rest of the day hiding in Yeosang's room, hissing at both him and Jungkook when they tried to get me to leave.
Jungkook finally left in the afternoon, I made a joke about him doing on a date with Taehyung and he hissed back at me. His love of the teacher was obvious, but Taehyung was such an extrovert that he was always busy with other people. Jungkook ended up hanging with others as well, and neither made any moves toward the other.
Yeosang finally got annoyed, my constant asking for attention working as he gave up trying to prep for his next class, allowing me to get the cuddles I wanted so badly from him.
However, with my constant complaining, it didn't last long.
He sighed about 500 times before pushing me off the bed. Luckily, he had the bottom bunk.
"Stop it," I whined from the floor.
"Then stop complaining. You seriously need to just go up to the man and kiss him, get married, and have babies, and stop telling me about how perfect he looks!" Yeosang complains right back as he sits up on the bed.
"Yeo!" I pout and cross my arms, still lying on the cold metal floor.
Yeosang rolls his eyes, "You are literally 25, stop throwing a tantrum," He says with yet another sigh.
"Why can't I act like a child on occasion?" I ask, pragmatically, as if this was the most logical thing to be suggesting in the world. Yeosang just stares down at me, his own near-perfect features communicating how annoyed he was getting.
"This floor is cold," I say trying to dispel some of his annoyance.
He stares at me dubiously but finally sighs, caving and offering me his hand, "Come back up here, but stop acting like one of your preschoolers."
I grin and climb back onto his bed, reaching for him and his warmth after the cool metal floor against my back. He lets me curl into his side and puts his arms back around me.
"Hey, I know you are stressed over this for whatever reason, but you really don't need to be."
I frown into his shirt, "How can you know that."
"Because I know men, and I know you, and I know that you both have been skirting around each other for years. I'm pretty sure whatever you think about him he thinks about you, and if you take one step toward him, he will take five toward you."
I don't answer, thoughts warring against each other in my head. I trust Yeosang, he's my best friend and the closest thing I have to family now, but the idea that he may be mistaken about this is just as strong of a thought.
Yeosang lets me think and stays with me in his bed for a long time. It isn't until the buzzer goes off to alert us to dinner time that he finally urges me to move. And I do, I let him lead me out of the room and through the maze of halls until we reach the dining hall.
Seokjin had cooked up some soup and bread for dinner, and Yeosang makes sure I don't spill my tray on the way to our table.
Namjoon, Taehyung, Jungkook, and a teen boy come over and sit down. I slowly eat my food and let the others talk after Taehyung introduces us all to the teenager, who is apparently called Hyunjin.
Taehyung and his art-loving self started talking nonstop about art and Hyunjin being talented. I let him talk, not feeling like contributing much, but I did notice Jungkook's reaction to this turn of events. For once the younger man looked slightly jealous.
Despite Yeosang's urging and reassurance, I couldn't find the courage to go and talk to him again for a while.
Another month passed before I talked to him again.
I had been trying to think of a reason to go and see him that didn't make it seem obvious that I was trying to see him. It was very difficult.
But one day my computer popped up a message, telling me to have some regular maintenance done on the device, and my face lit up. A few of the kids snickered at me for being excited about having to get my computer worked on but I brushed them off and told them to finish their research for their essays.
I decided to go to him this time.
After school hours I unhooked the computer and took it with me toward where I knew the maintenance people liked to hang out, most of them older men who were kind but a little condescending.
I knocked on the door to the office and someone buzzed me in, the door opening on its own like in my classroom.
I stepped in and looked around, slightly disappointed to not find him in the office. Instead, three middle-aged men were looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to state my reason for interrupting their card game.
"Hi, sorry to bother you," I said quickly smiling, "I just need some routine checks done on my computer, the tech who does my maintenance said I could ask him anytime."
"And he told you he would be here?" One of them asks, brow furrowed in confusion.
"Oh, no, I suppose I should have sent him a message or something before showing up like this," I say sheepishly, but not backing down as I walk a bit further into the room.
"Who do you mean?" a second man asks.
"Oh, the young tech? He's got kinda long black hair, and scarred arms?"
They nod in realization and the third one smiles. He was a bit younger than the other two, "He's out doing checks in the hospital area but if you want to leave it here, we will make sure he gets it when he comes back later."
I hesitate, I had come really to see him but the three of them were waiting expectantly and I gave in, walking the rest of the way over and handing the computer to the youngest man.
"That would be great, thank you so much!"
"Of course!" He smiles and asks my name, for the note he was writing. When I told him my name, all three of them suddenly looked up at me, surprise, and interest on their faces.
"Did I say something wrong?" I ask, confused, and startled at the response.
They just glance at each other and shake their heads, "No, nothing, don't worry."
I give them a look, but they give me innocent smiles back and I'm forced to relent.
"Okay, fine, keep your secrets," I sigh and then say goodbye, letting myself back out of the room with another thanks on my lips.
Yeosang took one look at me when I showed up at his door and sighed, quickly pulling me inside the room, into a tight hug.
"What happened?" He asks, patting my head as I bury my face into his shirt.
"I finally worked up the courage to go see him and he wasn't there," I mumble, frustration taking over.
He pulls my head away from him and makes me tell him the details, hands holding my face still so I can't hide, and then sighs.
"You did a good job," He finally says, letting me hide again once he was satisfied with my story, "He has to come and bring it back to you know right?"
I shrug.
"You'll have to see him then," I can hear the smile in his voice, "You did good, I promise. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks," I mumble again, and he laughs but lets me hide in his and Jungkook's room for several hours. Something about his bed was so much more comforting and safe than my own, even if he wasn't in it with me.
Unfortunately, Yeosang had been wrong about my needing to see him to get my laptop back.
The next day, Taehyung showed up at my door and handed it to me with his normal boxy smile.
"They asked me to bring this to you when I went to have mine looked at," He tells me and then gives me a worried look when I frown.
"Sorry, I was just expecting someone else to bring it back to me," I try to explain, and Taehyung's eyes get a glimmer of mischief in them that makes me gulp.
"I am going to tell him you wanted to see him," He says, and then runs away as I throw the laptop onto my bed and grab a shoe, ready to beat the man.
When I did finally see him again it was in the library on another sleepless night.
I hadn't gone there when I couldn't sleep since the last time, I had seen him there and figured it wouldn't hurt to go or to see him again.
The next day was another day off school, and I didn't much care about waking up at a specific time, Seokjin would save me some food if I didn't make it to breakfast.
I hadn't been able to sleep again, my mind too full of the past and the life we had left behind us.
That's when he came up behind me, quiet as a mouse this time, with no tripping and falling on his face.
He cleared his throat as he came up to the side of the bean bag chair and I looked up at him, startled enough that I almost fell out of the bean bag. He gave me an apologetic look and I smiled, trying to still my racing heart.
He had his jumpsuit on this time, arms covered fully by the gray material. I had left mine behind this time, trading it for a pair of shorts and a sweater as I let my thoughts run while watching the stars.
He seemed hesitant to do or say anything until I scooted over on the bean bag, patting the space next to me. We were both already here, why not.
He slowly sat down, face betraying the mess of emotions he was running through.
"Okay?" I whisper, wanting to know what was wrong, despite being the one who ran from him last time.
He glances over and the eye contact threatens to short-circuit my brain.
"Can I ask you a very blunt question?" He finally asks after a long moment, eyes betraying nothing.
I nod, suddenly nervous again as I shift to face him slightly.
He pauses but then opens his mouth, "Why did you leave last time? Do you really believe everything you told me?"
I suck in a breath of air, it really was a blunt question, but still didn't betray exactly what he really wanted to ask, which was if I was lying about his arms.
"No, I stand by everything I said. I think your scars are beautiful and unique and I really like them," I tell him, trying to be as blunt as I can, "I like the ones on your face too."
One of his eyebrows rises and it accentuates the scar even more. I smile and slowly reach out to poke his chin. He goes still letting me touch the half circle to the left of his mouth and then look up, back to his eyes.
He still wasn't sure how he felt, and I pulled back, hands in my lap.
"I ran away because I was scared." I finally admit. To both him and me.
"Of me?" He blurts out, his shocked and almost hurt voice still quiet in the large room.
I immediately shake my head, "No not of you, I don't know you very well yet, but I don't think I could ever be scared of you."
He looks at me, gaze full of more questions than he could ever ask, "Then why?"
I chew my lip; I don't want to confess that I have a crush on him right now, but what can I tell him that will assure him that it's not his fault?
"You kinda make me nervous," I blurt out and then slap my hand over my mouth as he blinks at me, confused, "Wait, not like in a bad way, I promise you don't scare me, I would never think you would hurt me, it's just that you look like that, and it's intimidating?"
He's still blinking at me, trying to work through what I've just said until his face settles into confusion and he looks at me, "I look like what?"
I shrink as far into the bean bag as I can, covering my face because I know it's bright red, "You know you are like the most attractive man on this ship, right?"
He laughs, totally surprised by my statement, "No, I'm not."
I look up at him in shock, "You don't know that you are attractive?"
"I mean definitely not compared to the likes of Seokjin, Jungkook, Yeosang, Ten, and some of the teens. Hell, even just Taehyung, he's basically a Greek God!" He lists off many of the others our age and I stare at him, jaw hanging open in shock. Not only was this man physically perfect, but he also didn't think he was. He looks at me, confused by my reaction to his words.
"Taeyong, listen to me," I say, leaning forward and grabbing his hands with both of mine. For being nervous, I was touching him an awful lot, "You are the most attractive man I have ever laid eyes on."
The confusion on his face is quickly replaced with disbelief and shock but I felt like he didn't believe me, and I begin to explain further, suddenly needing him to know exactly what I have been thinking and telling Yeosang for the last three years.
When I finally stop talking, he stares at me, fully shocked, hands unmoving in mine. Suddenly I realize what I've just done and let go, pulling back as if I've been burned, feeling panic rising in my chest.
"I'm sorry, that was so forward, I'm so sorry if I've made you uncomfortable," I quickly move, standing up as my face burns in embarrassment. I start to back away as his brain catches up with what just happened.
"I'll just go," I say, glancing toward the door. That's when his hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me back toward the bean bag.
His eyes show so much emotion when I look back at him that I freeze and let him pull me back down.
"Do you really think that about me?" He asks, his whisper telling me how much he doesn't believe me.
I nod, not sure what to do now.
"My face is so perfect that it makes you nervous," He says, trying to digest the thought.
I nod again, fidgeting with my fingers as I wait for him to say something to dispel the adrenaline coursing through my body.
"That's the weirdest compliment I have ever gotten," He finally says with a small laugh, mouth quirked into a smile and eyes softening into kind crescents. I breathe slightly easier, following his gaze out the large viewing window.
We sit in silence for what feels like ten years but is probably only a few minutes.
"Taeyong?" I ask quietly, feeling like I need a question of my own answered.
He looks over, face clear of any of the worry and confusion of earlier, "Yes?"
"Does that make you uncomfortable? That I think you are attractive?"
He furrows his brow but then shakes his head, "No, I don't think so."
I nod, relieved that I hadn't ruined anything before it even started, but then a new worry comes to mind. What did he think of me and the display I had just put on for him? I cringe and look down at my hands again as my stomach shrinks into knots again.
"Yn," He says quietly, grabbing one of my hands and pulling it toward him.
I look up at him, unsure of what to expect as he smiles at me softly.
"Now that you've told me all this, I think you should know that I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," He says sincerely, "So I think that makes us even."
My jaw drops again as I stare at him in shock. He smiles and I've never seen him look as happy as he does at this moment.
"You what?" I finally manage to squeak out through my shock.
His facial colors, are similar to my own a few moments ago as he glances shyly at our hands, "Ever since I got off the bus at the compound, I've thought you were really pretty."
I can feel my face heating up again, this time I'm not sure exactly which emotion I'm feeling that's causing it, there are so many coursing through my body.
"You remember that day?" I ask, suddenly shy under his gaze.
He nods, "How could I not? I was still wrapped in bandages then, and I stepped out and the first thing I saw was you. Like an angel or something."
I pull my hand out of his to cover my face in embarrassment, "I thought you were so handsome, even with all your cuts and bruises."
He laughs lightly, gently pulling my hands away from my face, "You should have come and talked to me."
I shake my head, "I can't do the actual hospital wards, I don't have the stomach for open wounds."
"Maybe it's good you didn't see me until I was healed then," He says, a tinge of something weird in his voice.
I look up at him and pause, "I would help if you needed me to now."
He considers this and then his eyes crinkle, "Thank you."
I frown, "But don't get hurt again, I don't think I could handle the thought of you hurting like that again."
He nods, "I definitely don't want to do it again."
I lean toward him slightly on the bean bag and he shifts, making a space for me to lean into his side comfortably.
We sit and watch the stars outside the window for a long time, and I feel my body start to calm down, both lulled and excited by this strange turn of events.
"Yn?" He asks softly after a while, "Do you want to hear the story?"
I look up at him in surprise, "You want to talk about it?"
He nods, looking back out at the stars.
"I would love to hear it."
It takes him a few moments to gather his thoughts but then he starts talking, telling me about the new plane he was testing. He talks about the preparations for it, the weather predictions, and some of the complicated parts of the technology. He gets quiet when he gets to the part of the story where the hurricane comes out of nowhere. It hadn't been on any weather reports and had blindsided everyone. He tells me how his compass started to whirl and some of the other gauges had stopped working.
His voice gets shaky when he begins to tell me about the moments leading up to his emergency landing, the subsequent crash, and the engine fire that sliced across his arms as he climbed out of the wreckage. NASA had been tracking him and had been able to get him to help incredibly fast, he had been lucky and very skilled to have landed where he did.
He goes quiet when he finishes, hands playing with my fingers and the cuff of my sweater as we watch the stars.
I don't know what to tell him for a long moment but finally decide on, "I am so sorry you went through that, but I'm thoroughly impressed with your skills."
He smiles weakly, "It could have been so much worse."
"You managed to land a prototype plane with broken gauges in the middle of the worst hurricane ever recorded. And you got some really cool scars to prove your story."
"Do you always look for the silver lining?" He asks with a chuckle.
"I have to, Tae, or I will go insane."
"I like the nickname," He says nudging me with his elbow, "But I suppose that's one way to keep your head up."
"What's the other way? Maybe it's easier," I say, only half joking.
He moves his arm around my shoulders, "You ignore it. It's not healthy I know."
"It's not," I lean further into him, half still not believing this is really happening, "Either way you kinda have to keep moving when the world is ending so quickly around you."
I can feel him nod in agreement and we fall silent again. Neither of us says anything for a long time, just enjoying the moment together until yet again, sleep pulls me under.