(Y/N) POV:

I stare lifelessly at the newspaper article in front of me, lying flat on the table, headlines glaring accusingly at me.

MOURNING FOR THE LOST LIVES OF THOSE WHO EMBARKED ON HOLIDAY CRUISE.

Each word attacks me with all the force of physically inflicted blows, words acidic- bubbling and corrosive, wearing away even more at my already shattered and shredded heart. I flinch at the happy smiles and looks of excitement that cover the front page. Of lives lost, of embarking on what they'd thought would've been the adventure of a lifetime. And yet still my fingers brush gently across their names, those photos- committing them to memory, adding another list of those who've died at my hands to my broken soul- remembering the lives I've taken, ruined and families I've torn apart.

My throat closes up with the familiar feeling of grief and unending sorrow, that familiar panicky feeling of my lungs constricting, closing up on themselves, struggling to get air rushing through me. I did that. I ended those lives. I'm a murderer. And yet I hold those photos and names close to me as if I have the right to. I cry and mourn as if I share in that grief when I was the one who'd inflicted it.

The sight of their faces blur in front of me, tears welling up- thick and hot as they course down my cheeks, hands trembling as they try to latch onto anything solid, anything that stops me from being washed away with the crashing waves of my regret and guilt.

A broken sob tears through my throat, the sound so loud- shattering through the otherwise silence.

And I feel those emotions and poisonous thoughts bubbling up, rising, submerging me in them, compelling me to drown in the realisation that I am a murderer who has no right to live when a pair of arms wind their way around me- constricting but also comforting. A familiar weight that becomes something not pulling me down further but helping me to rise up.

I shake in those arms even if their voice comes out sweet and soft. Familiar to me like the back of my hand.

"Shh...baby you're okay. I've got you." the voice says, brushing against my ear, deep and reassuring even as another person rushes forward, voice pitched with worry.

"Ha...Habaek oppa..." I whisper, voice hoarse as if I've been screaming, maybe I have been.

"You're okay. You're okay. You're safe. You're loved." He mutters into my hair even as he continues to rock me, the familiar weight of his body against mine being a presence I become soothed by, and I can feel a softer pair of hands rub my back comfortingly.

"Let it out sweetheart." A sympathetic voice says, voice soft and gentle. Her hand comes to intertwine with mine as she sinks to the floor, eyes looking understandingly at me when Habaek oppa parts just slightly from me, so he can shift me onto his lap, never letting go of me.

Slowly the tears peter down, the shuddering gasps even but I feel so drained, as if I've been wringed of every last bit of energy- a husk, a shell.

The two of them remain with me, even long after I've calmed down, even as the last bits of hysterical guilt drain away, leaving me feeling blank.

"I love you cherub, but you need to stop this habit of yours. It's not doing any wonders to your health- immortal or not, you can still suffer." Habaek oppa says, drawing my weary body against his, so he can hook his head over mine, curling his arms protectively around me.

I sigh, picking listlessly at the ripped frayed design on my jeans, fingers fiddling with the threads that bare a slither of skin at my thigh, silent and unresponsive.

"I know you feel guilt, we all do- but the way you're choosing to deal with it is unhealthy. How many times have we had this conversation for how many decades?" Mi-sun unnie says, voice both soft and firm.

I feel like curling into myself, retreating from this conversation- even though we've had it countless times, even though they tell me to try and change- they're still there every time without fail to comfort me. It's been the three of us for centuries, and yet they've never changed in the way they take care of me, look out for me and give me that comfort in the way a family could. And it doesn't mean that time makes it easier to bear- time makes it worse. And I know they suffer and hurt in their own ways but how do I tell them that I hate myself so much I could die? How do I tell them that more often than not I think about what it would be like to walk into the ocean and not be able to breathe underwater? To walk in and wish that the vast ocean could drown me?

That even if I have eternity to atone, I can never bring those lives back, never erase those moments where I see the fear and begging plea on their faces- beseeching and looking towards me for help. That their cries and wails continue to echo in my ears for days and weeks after doing service for the Ocean?

I want to share with them but I think if they ever learn the true extent of how damaged and broken I am, their lives will be destroyed- and I don't want them to be burdened with guilt. I can suffer alone for that.

They don't need my emotional baggage that comes with me. No-one needs to deal with that.

"I know...but it's hard to change when I've had centuries to develop this habit. It just won't go away no matter how hard I try." I whisper downwards onto my lap.

"Do you want a change of place? Somewhere further away from the Ocean?" Habaek oppa asks, voice warm and understanding.

The closer we live to the Ocean, the stronger we can feel her presence. The further away we get, the weaker the link- and maybe, maybe that's what I need at the moment. Some time to get away from Her. Some time to pretend that I'm not a monster. Some time to merge and blend between humans and think and fool myself that I'm one of them.

Maybe that's what I need.

A chance to escape.

So I find myself nodding. The gesture spurring the two into action.

"Okay sweetheart. Let's leave." Mi-sun unnie says, phone already out as she organises our tickets.

As Habaek oppa gets up to start packing, I take my time folding up that newspaper article, storing it safely between my notebooks, slowly and steadily packing away my belonging until no trace of our presence remains.

I step outside of the small house we've been living in for the past decade or so. Take a final glance at the stretch of the blue ocean that twinkles mockingly at me from the distance.

It's time to leave. To place that distance between myself and the Ocean.

But even so I know I need to say goodbye. Goodbye to that part of me that has for centuries tormented me.

It's time to say my goodbyes to the Ocean.

The one who'd been both my saviour and tormentor.

----

When I step into the warm waters of the Ocean, it flows and laps around my ankles- brushing against them in soft greeting, careful and gentle.

The powerful vast sense of them fills my mind- this faceless voice both deep and soothing, filling me.

I didn't expect to see you so soon. I know how much service takes out of you. Their voice brushes across my mind, a gentle tentative caress- as if testing the waters of my emotional state and where I stand.

"I came to say goodbye. We'll be leaving for some time." I say softly, even though I have no doubt that She's already sifted through my thoughts- seen them for how blatantly loud and disturbed they are.

You're leaving...I understand. She begins before tailing off with a resigned tone.

"We'll be back when you call for us again." I say, letting the remainder of my words remain unspoken...that we have no choice but to come then.

Parting is easy, even if the Ocean seems to become heavy- as if steeped with melancholia and an unwillingness to part.

Moments like these, instances where I can feel Her sorrow thrum through my veins makes me feel guilty. That I can't wait to escape from Her watery clutches, that I long to spend my life in a city where I can't even glimpse the Ocean.

It makes me relent and feel bad for Her. But when Her presence fades from my mind- as if She's retreated into silence and solitude, I remain standing in the Ocean, knees soaked through with Her salty waves- looking out to the horizon, how beautiful and distant it seems from me.

I stand there until Habaek oppa and Mi-sun unnie come to the shore to call me away, voices soft and quiet- barely brushing across my ears. I glance at the fairly deserted beach, at the odd person or two dotted around, they're not taking the risk, none of us can dare to.

And I turn to walk out of the Ocean, leaving it's darkening blue waves behind me- feeling the soft lapping of water at my ankles as a silent goodbye.

But when the last of the waves leave me, feet sinking into sand instead- I find relief flooding through me, at the way the remnant drops of water are soaked into the powdery sand under me.

I can get away. For a while at least.

And I leave without looking back.

KOOK POV:

"I'll be back later hyungs!" I call as I leave the house we've rented for our brief getaway. It's the last day we're staying in Busan and I want to capture the sea through my camera's lens- not knowing when we'll return again.

I pick my way across the beach, smiling when I see that it's mostly deserted, fiddling with my camera as I set it up- taking test shots of the sky and smiling at the hues of colour that come through, sunset filtering the sky with shades of pinks and oranges and yellows.

I step closer and closer to the shore, feeling the sand part under my shoes- soft and slippery as I make my way down to the waves, to where they teasingly dart in and out, almost, and yet not quite touching the tips of my shoes.

I focus on the ocean through the lens, taking shot after shot of crashing waves, of the way they roll into another, of the way the ocean seems dark the further out it gets. I take photos of the way the dark blue ocean contrasts against the light sky. I turn taking different shots, different angles when my lens focus on a sole figure standing alone, knee deep in the ocean. Their silhouette against the sunset sky and dark ocean is captivating to my eyes- appealing to a photographer's lens. To the way their hair blows gently in the wind and they stand there motionless, facing out towards the horizon. I can't see their features, can't see anything but their shadowed frame.

I find my fingers unconsciously pressing the shutter button, capturing the hauntingly lonely silhouette, and immortalising it through my lens, saving it to look at later.

But as I watch they slowly turn, strands of hair whipping gently across their face- obscuring their features save for a pair of full lips that are tugged into a smile, a smile that looks lifeless and sad.

The image of that figure standing alone in the ocean, a pair of lips that scream silently of sorrow and the cold sudden breeze that fills the air- heavy and salty as it whips unforgivingly across my face, making my eyes water. I step away from the ocean, back towards the beach taking steps away as I leave the blue deep depths of it behind.

And I walk back home, to my hyungs, to the parts of my soul with the ghost of the ocean's salty scent brushing against my nose and eyes filled with the photos I've taken.

I don't know when we'll be back but with photos those moments are captured.

It's not a goodbye, it's a farewell for now.

But home is where the heart is. And mine is with the hyungs.

And when I enter into the soft warmth of the rented house, I lose myself in the bustle of packing and activity. Of laughter mingling with chatter. Of panicked searching filled with mocking teases.

This is home. This is belonging.

(FIRST CHAPTER! JUST A TASTE OF WHAT'S TO COME! AND YUP- I THREW YOU STRAIGHT IN THE DEEP END WITH THAT ANGSTY OPENING HEHE...DON'T COME AFTER ME FOR IT, I'LL SAY THIS NOW. BUCKLE UP MY DEARS, IT'S GOING TO BE AN EXTREMELY ROUGH RIDE, WE'LL BE CHARTING OVER DIFFICULT, TURBULENT WATERS. LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS! CAN'T WAIT TO WRITE THIS FIC ONCE CURSED FATE COMES TO AN END! AND HABAEK IS INSPIRED FROM A PERSONAL FAVOURITE ACTOR OF MINE! NAM JOO-HYUK SO IN CASE YOU WANT TO REFER TO HIS VISUALS FOR AN IMAGE OF HIS CHARACTER. STAY SAFE LOVES!)

Question...any scary experiences which have left an impression on you?

Mine is...I went quad biking in the summer and my cousin was driving extremely close to me so I swerved on a wet track to avoid her from getting hit but ended up getting flung off the bike and the bike rolled and crashed onto my legs. For a moment when they pushed the bike off, I couldn't feel my legs or move them, I literally had a mini mental breakdown stressing over that but ended up with a small scar on my foot and some light grazes. It was scary.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3