(Y/N) POV:

When Gyeomie pulls up outside my home, there's a tense silence, I unfasten the seatbelt and make a move to reach for the door handle, ready to step out and face the music.

"I can explain if you don't want to (Y/N)-ah." He offers, the words hang heavily between us. It would be so easy to say yes, so easy to allow him to help me, to do the talking for me. But I don't want to become reliant, reliant on his help, on their help. They've helped me get to where I am today but there's some things that I have to do myself. And I don't tell him that I'm not planning of opening that part of me up. That I can't yet bear to.

"It's okay Gyeomie, thanks anyways." I turn to peck his cheek, smile at him before sliding out of the car and slowly making my way to the door. I hover outside, dithering, I know I'm trying to stall, stall for as long as I can. I straighten my shoulders and slide the key in, opening the door. I take several deep breaths before entering, it feels like I'm entering a battlefield. I just hope that the mask I'm holding up doesn't shatter, that one kind word or look won't send me crumbling in their arms.

Entering is a feat which sends my heart racing, I wince when my shoes clatter noisily against the ground, the clacking of heels ringing in my ears, pray for my breaths to remain calm and measured. I know Yoongi oppa is highly attuned to sound, and I will do my best not to allow my body to betray me. I force on a layer of calm, will my face into its usual relaxed countenance, I will NOT be the reason my soulmates are always fretting, is it so hard for them to be happy because of me?

I plaster on a wide smile across my face, let the stiffness from my shoulders melt away, push myself to adopt a more at ease demeanour before I sweep into the room.

"Good morning" I trill, internally wincing at the sheer enthusiasm I force into my words.

They turn, they look like they've just gotten up not too long ago. They're still on the floor but when I enter their heads spin to face me before I spot a noticeable shift in their body language.

"Still half asleep my babies?" I coo, this time it's genuine, the fondness creeping into my tone automatically when I look at their adorably ruffled states.

They smile at me and I turn to Joonie oppa, see the silent question in his eyes and smile back, nodding slightly. His smile becomes brighter, he's relieved. It loosens a coil inside me that I didn't realise had bound itself around me in a tight squeeze, it makes breathing a fraction easier.

I watch as they get up, slowly dragging themselves out of the living room so they can wash up and eat.

"Go ahead boys, I'll sort the living room out." I offer, I've already eaten. Well stomached a few mouthfuls and pushed them down with water.

I get to work piling up the pillows, rearranging the cushions back onto the couches. Folding up sheet after sheet and the seemingly endless pile of blankets. I get so engrossed into fixing it all up that I don't realise someone has stepped back into the room, don't realise it until a body is spooning mine from behind, arms that slowly bundle me backwards into a warm solid chest.

I twist slightly to see Jiminie staring at me, he smiles when our eyes meet.

"You look great in a suit (Y/N)-ah. But if something's wrong, you'll come to us, right?" he mumbles, the compliment quickly being followed by his concern and worry.

I smile up at him, tilt my head upwards to brush my lips against his in a quick kiss.

"I will Jiminie. If I need help, I know you're always here." I whisper. And whilst I know it's true, I wonder how long I can go about telling myself that I don't need the help at all. When really all I want is someone to reach out and stop me from drowning.

----

It's after English Literature with Joonie oppa that he places his hands on my shoulders and guides m out of the lecture hall and out of campus. I notice many, many stares directed at us, more so at me and the way Joonie oppa's hands are on me. The hands that were a comfort become heated furnaces which burn at me instead because of the revulsion and hatred that coat people's eyes. And the whispers that begin to penetrate the air.

"I'm sorry (Y/N)-ah." He says, hands going off but I turn to grab at one of his hands.

It doesn't matter how hard they stare, or how furiously they gossip. Why should we have to hide? Do I become a criminal or sinner because I found the ones who completed me?

"Let's go home." I say in response, furiously trying to block out the intrusive eyes and ears of the people blatantly staring and gawping at us. Making a spectacle of us.

Reaching home is a relief, one that lightens my heart when I see the others sprawled around on the floor, eyes filled with excitement as they hold a large tablet between them. One very recognisable tablet.

Panic flood my veins like ice, spreading a numbing chill throughout my body, making me feel trapped and frozen within that moment. They are all smiling and those smiles become grins when Joonie oppa tugs me forward into the pile of soulmates on the floor. Allows me to be tugged into the arms of Tae who beams before enveloping me into his arms.

Kookie is holding it, smiling so happily, so eagerly.

"(Y/N)-ah are you ready to read the next episode with us?" he chirps.

The words slowly register in my ears. And then when my brain finally processes them, the vice around my ribs eases.

He must notice the way I gape at the tablet. At the one that appears to be mine.

"Oh I got one just like yours. It'll help me with my work! Hyungs and I have noticed how much you love yours." He explains and all the breath rushes out of me.

It's not my tablet. It's his. They haven't found out. They've been waiting so we can read the episode all together.

The giggle that bursts out my throat, is slightly almost hysterical, but its one of sheer profound relief.

"Let's read then Koo." I say just as Tae nestles his head closer into the crook of my shoulder so he can peer at the screen.

I focus on the solid grounding presence of Tae at the moment. The way he's holding me safe and secure. It'll be fine.

-----

Existing is tedious. It's a chore. Something that makes Dae Hyeon feel like she is compelled to stay in this horrid selfish world even if she has nothing left here.

Dae Hyeon sits curled up in the corner of the room, knees brought tightly to her chest as her big brown eyes peer fearfully from the top. She's safe. At her aunt's house. But that doesn't mean that every shadow, every shout, every flash of red suddenly become non-threatening.

Instead they become triggers to her shattered mind. They send her reeling back into the dark and cruel depths of her memory, her eyes always flashing the same scenes of pools of blood, lifeless eyes and a scream that tears through her otherwise silent mind, shredding away her sanity.

Days blur together, light shifts into dark, time merges and everything loses meaning. Everything.

It's a cold, crisp day when Dae Hyeon finally steps outside the house alone. A cool, chilly wind that whips and cuts at her skin, but it makes her feel alive. The cruel cutting sensation reminds her that she can feel, that she does feel. She's dressed in grey tones, a colour which astutely matches the bleakness of her damaged soul. It's the colour of time past, of lives past. It reminds her of the sacrifices made. Her small hand goes to clutch at her right side, fisting loosely into the sweater that bunches over her soul mark. The mark that condemns her to shackles and entrapment. The mark that promises and hints at a life lived too similarly to the one her dad had. She doesn't want it.

She's woken up screaming countless times, fingers clawing desperately at her mark in attempts to forcefully rid her skin of the tainting smear. It's to no avail.

It's good for you Dae Hyeon. It means happiness Dae Hyeon. You'll be complete Dae Hyeon. But how can she believe the vile lies that spill out of people's mouths, no matter how well-intended they are. How can she let down the walls and allow herself to be broken and bruised yet another time?

How can she believe that goodness exists within soulmarks?

The answers come in the shape of one lanky boy, whose cheeks are rounded and tinged a soft rose from the cold. It comes in the shape of the boy who becomes her shelter, her haven, her sanctuary. The one who brings his hand forward to pull her out of the shadows and show her what it really means to live and love.

It comes sneaking up on her, pouncing on her in the way only children can startle their friends. A set of small hands which clasp her shoulders and roar playfully in her ears as he pretends to be a lion that'll eat her.

It comes in the form of friendship.

-----

YOONGI POV:

I look at Kookie's face which has quickly become downcast and upset. I reach out to ruffle his hair, try to provide him comfort.

He twists almost angrily, even whilst leaning into the touch.

"Hyung is not fair." He mumbles into my hand, face pressed against my palm now.

I smile fondly at our tender-hearted baby.

"Aigoo...Jungkookie. Come here." I say, holding my arms open for him to barrel into, which he does quickly. Mushing his face up against my shoulder.

I stroke his hair; hands brush down to press soft feathery touches onto the nape of his neck. I lean down to press a soft kiss to his head.

"Baby it's not real." I reassure him, this is a familiar pattern. One of us always taking on the role of being Kookie's comforting hyung after an episode.

"But stuff like that does happen. There are people who are victim to the existence of soulmarks." (Y/N) calls out, her voice simultaneously firm and soft.

My head rises to look at her, I can see the others doing the same. Kookie's pout deepens, eyes widening with sorrow.

Her words ring true. There's no denying. It's the bitter ugly truth that is hidden and pushed to the side. It makes me think. That I am so lucky and blessed to have found my own, and to be happy with them.

A look of deep sorrow overcomes (Y/N)'s own face, distorts it until it becomes wracked with a silent expression of torment.

Tae's hands tighten around her, shift slightly before her body sags. She's taken comfort from his presence.

"We know." Jin hyung answers and his own voice is slightly down too.

"Sometimes knowing isn't enough oppa." (Y/N) breathes back.

And the anguish that comes through each word strikes deep in me, fills me up with a sense of sympathy. (Y/N) helped Myungsoo through the loss of a soulmate, who knows who else she has had to help and has seen go through such suffering?

The questions remain unspoken inside me, swallowed back before I even let them form, but they echo throughout my mind regardless. Like the endless toll of a bell. And makes me really think....just how much has our soulmate gone through?

(THERE WE HAVE IT! A SLOW BUT STEADY BUILD UP TO THE ANGST THAT IS JUST ITCHING TO EXPLODE OUT OF ME, OUT OF THIS BOOK AND OUT OF OUR BELOVED HURTING FEMALE LEAD. HOW DO YOU FIND IT MY LOVELIES? LET ME KNOW AS USUAL. I CAN'T WAIT TO READ ALL YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS CHAPTER! IT MAY SEEM A BIT SLOW, AND THAT (Y/N) KEEPS ON FALLING BACK RATHER THAN RELYING ON HER SOULMATES- BUT IT'S A LONG TIME HABIT ENGRAINED INTO HER, IT WON'T JUST BREAK AND UNRAVEL JUST BECAUSE SHE'S GOT THEM. SHE KNOWS THAT BUT TRAUMA ISN'T SOMETHING EASY TO OVERCOME! NOW THAT IN THE LAST CHAPTER WE FOUND OUT DAE HYEON IS THE MIRROR FOR (Y/N), WHO DO YOU RECKON THE BOY IS?? ANY GUESSES? 125K READS?!! CONSIDER ME WELL AND OFFICIALLY MINDBLOWN AND COMBUSTED! THANKS LOVELIES! SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE WITH THE ANGST!)

Live fully and brightly and boldly. Don't live to have regrets, live to fulfil your dreams.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3