Believe Again: Change

Summary: You weren't sure when or why he caught your eye in the first place. Maybe it was his hair. It wasn't every day you saw someone with striking red hair around. Or maybe it was because passing by here every day, you eventually came to notice how he would always be seated in the same place, be in the same posture, doing the exact same thing.

Note: This is an AU where Seven is married to MC (I shall refer to her as MC) and the reader falls in love with Saeran. This fic takes place after secret ending 2. I can't guarantee that this will be spoiler-free, so be warned.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: I'm going to change the archive warnings and rating for this story after further planning.

TRIGGER WARNING: There will be future instances of violence, as well as themes relating to past self-harm/suicidal thoughts. As much as I would like to keep these concepts out of my stories if I can help it, I believe it is essential to Saeran's character/story, hence the change. I will be putting up this notice on chapter 1 and in my tags as well.

Apologies for making such a belated decision, but I've been giving it a lot of thought and I'm sorry if I let any of you down because of this!

Cover art by Botanuta (tumblr)

Hope you enjoy!

You weren't sure when this developed into a routine. You had lived in this area for years, always taking the same path back home, the path that passed through the park near your house. It was not a particularly big park, but at this time in the evening, usually there were children playing in the sand box and at the modest playground, a couple of elderly folk out taking a stroll to enjoy the cool evening breeze, and maybe some couples out on a date if it was the weekend or a Friday night. There wasn't much to see around here, really.

You weren't even sure when or why he caught your eye. Maybe it was his hair. It wasn't every day you saw someone with striking red hair around, after all. Or maybe it was because passing by here every day, you eventually came to notice how he would always be seated in the same place, in the center of the same bench, always in the same posture, with his hands resting on his knees, and always doing the same thing, simply gazing up at the sky in silence. He never did much. He was always on his own, with the deep blue sky above as his only companion.

There were times you would, out of pure, innocent curiosity, stop a distance away to observe him for a while. Even though it probably wasn't your place to mind, you often found yourself wondering what could be going through his head when he quietly gazed out upon the sky like that. His face was always blank, his person unmoving. You'd think he was a statue; only the occasional blink of his eyes and subtle movement of his chest indicated that he was a living, breathing human.

Once, you got close enough to see that his eyes were of a beautiful mint green hue. You had never seen anything like it, and for a moment you thought he might be special, somehow. That, or he was just wearing contacts. You couldn't recognize the emotions that dwelled within them, however. The only thing you could glean from them was pure, childlike wonder. They were the eyes of a child who had yet to see enough of the world, who wished to know more, but whose questions could only be answered with the serenity of the deep, limitless sky above.

Something about him attracted you. It was almost as if he had some sort of magnetic field about him; each time you saw him you were drawn to his lonesome figure. You wanted to get closer, to know him, but at the same time something about him repelled you, kept you at a safe distance.

So this became a routine of sorts. You would come home from work every day, walking down the same path, passing by him, blocking his view of the sky for those two small seconds. Each time you did, your heart would beat just a little faster. Then after walking sufficiently far away, you would stop to peer over your shoulder, only to see him still in that same spot, in that same posture, looking at the same thing he always did.

He was a mysterious person, that was for sure. An interesting subject in your relatively mundane, normal life. It wasn't a bad thing, you supposed. But it had been long enough that you were starting to wonder when this cycle would break.

Then again, maybe you shouldn't have wished for that. You didn't think you could actually jinx yourself without saying anything aloud to yourself, but you had managed to, much to your chagrin.

It was just a normal Wednesday. You had gotten off work, and the day had gone by relatively smoothly as usual. You were on your way back, looking forward to getting some rest after a long day, but more than that, you were anticipating going through that same path as you usually did.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The man was quietly sitting there as he always did, but you noticed that he wasn't wearing the light brown sweater that he usually wore. He was just in a plain black tank and a pair of long black pants today. Maybe he finally decided to do the laundry. But then you noticed he had bandages wrapped from his shoulder all the way down to the middle of his forearm. What had happened to him? Had he hurt himself badly? The questions swirled in your mind, the skin on your forehead creasing slightly with worry, but you knew you couldn't just up and ask him something like that.

So you walked past him, making sure to keep your footsteps light to avoid making too much noise as you passed by as usual. You counted the number of steps after passing by him. Seventeen and a half steps was the perfect distance. Not too close, and you would be partially hidden by the light pole by the side of the road. It was also not too far that you wouldn't get a clear enough look at him.

You stopped at the exact spot you did every day, and then you peered over your shoulder. Sometimes you wondered why you bothered to do this. It wasn't as if he would move from that position — he had never done anything else except stare into space. At least, not that you knew of.

That day was different, however. You were taken by surprise the moment you registered that what you were staring at wasn't his side profile, but his face.

Your eyes met, and immediately you ducked your head, hoping that he hadn't caught you stealing glances at him. You felt your face flush in embarrassment. But... had you just imagined that? Or had he actually moved? To look at something else?

Out of sheer curiosity, you dared yourself to raise your head once more. Your breath hitched and your heart started thumping louder in your ears when you realized that his gaze was still on you. His face was blank, his eyes holding no emotion whatsoever. You wondered if he happened to be staring at someone behind you, but you found no one of interest standing behind you. When you turned back to him he was still staring at you, and unashamedly so. It seemed like you were the only one embarrassed to be caught staring at a complete stranger.

You stared back, confused. Did he want to make conversation? Was he expecting you to approach him? Was he going to approach you? What were you to do in a situation like this? The awkwardness of it all made your cheeks feel even hotter, and you were tempted to simply look away and hightail it out of there. Yet at the same time, you were intrigued. He had finally noticed you, it seemed, and maybe this was your chance to get to know him a little better. The cycle of watching him from afar for a few minutes each day had finally broke, and this could be an invitation to approach him.

...Or so you thought, until he returned his gaze back to the sky, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, as if today was just like any other day.

Maybe you had taken too long to consider going up to him. Or maybe he just wasn't as interested in you as you were in him. In any case, things were way too awkward for you to just stay standing there like a fool, so you decided to hastily make your way back home for the day. On the way back you attempted to convince yourself that nothing big had happened, and that everything would go back to normal the next day.

The butterflies in your stomach gave you the sense that that wasn't going to happen though.

The next few times you passed by him and turned back to look, you noticed him staring back at you just as he did that day. You would feel a jolt run through your body when your eyes met, and the both of you would hold each other's gazes for a while, as if searching for something within each other's eyes. But then each time he would turn back, seemingly unaffected by your staring match just seconds ago. By the third time you encountered him in this manner, you had gotten used to it. It was odd, an encounter that left you feeling tingly, nervous and excited.

You didn't dislike it, strangely enough. Not one bit.

You were starting to get used to this change in the routine the both of you had somehow established for each other. You were starting to like it, even. It was a peculiar thing to look forward to at the end of the day, but by no means any less thrilling. You wondered if he felt that way too.

If he did though, he never showed it. Then again, he struck you as the type who wasn't good at expressing his emotions.

A good amount of time passed before something else changed. An ice-cream truck started visiting a little more regularly. It would come by every Friday, parking a ways from the bench where that man always sat. The sound of the bell would cause the children at the playground to perk up with interest, and then soon enough a sizeable line would form in front of it.

It also happened to be the only sound that could cause his attention to shift away from the sky, aside from the short stare-down you two would share each evening now. You never thought the day would come when you would see his eyes light up like that. They contained the happiness of an innocent child, but in them was also a mixture of something akin to sadness and longing. You wanted to know why he would make a face like that each time the ice-cream truck came.

Well, there was one way to find out.

It took a lot of courage on your part, but you decided that maybe it was high time you changed something else about your routine.

When the next Friday came, you found yourself holding two chocolate ice cream cones. You didn't know which flavor he would want, so you just went with the safest options.

"Here," you said in the bravest voice you could muster, even though your heart was hammering against your ribcage and you could feel your ears heating up in this rather awkward situation. You held out one cone to him, and you watched as he took a few seconds to register the ice cream cone in front of him, before tilting his head upwards to rest his eyes on yours.

His lips parted in a silent question, but he said nothing. He turned his gaze to the ice cream cone again, not moving a muscle. You waited for him to say something, or to take the cone from you, but he didn't do anything. He merely kept his gaze lowered, on the ground, and you wondered if he was actually shy, for all that unabashed staring the two of you had done for the past fortnight.

Not wanting to be stuck holding two of these cones any longer, you decided the best course of action would be to place the cone in his hand. You loosened your grip on it slightly, and in turn he curled his fingers around it, wordlessly accepting it from you.

Your lips spread into a smile as you did a small cheer of victory in your head. Feeling a little bolder now, you took a seat next to him on the bench, and he shifted a little to the right so that you would have more space beside him. Maybe he wasn't as averse to social interaction as he appeared to be.

There wasn't much to say between the two of you. You didn't feel the need to either. So you simply sat there, quietly enjoying your ice cream. It was refreshing to feel the cool evening breeze against your skin and the cold sweetness of the dessert melt in your mouth at the same time. You stole a sideways glance at the man next to you. His gaze was trained on the ice cream, as if mystified by the dessert in his hands. You found it quite endearing. He looked just like a child who had just received a treat in the longest time.

You were about to remind him to start eating before it melted, but before you could he was raising it to his lips and taking a tentative lick.

And for the first time, you saw a smile appear on his face. It was small, just the tiniest curve of the corner of his lip, but you noticed it, and for some reason, it stirred a pleasant warmth in the core of your stomach that spread to every part of your body, to the very tips of your fingers. You couldn't help the smile that crept up your face too.

With a content sigh, you turned your head back to look at the sky that he so loved to stare at in the evenings, and the both of you were content, just sitting there in shared comfortable silence.

It was a vague thought that crossed your mind, but you felt that this could be a change you wouldn't mind getting used to.

A/N: I honestly have no idea where I intend to go with this story. It probably won't be a very long fic, but we'll see how things go. (: I just wanted to write something for Saeran because he's a baby who deserves all the love in the world. 3

I'll come back to edit this tomorrow because I'm in desperate need of some sleep now. Thanks for reading! (: