The flowerbed - Aespa's Giselle x M!Reader

The countryside (Part 2)

Chaewon's POV

The countryside moonlight painted shadows across y/n's kitchen as I watched him mechanically eat the soup his mother had prepared. Each spoonful seemed to require conscious effort, like he had to remind himself that survival required nourishment.

"When did you last work at the store?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

"Tuesday. Maybe." He stirred the soup listlessly. "The days blur together sometimes."

The admission hurt to hear. This man who used to track five people's schedules down to the minute now couldn't distinguish between basic days. The y/n who juggled comeback preparations and variety show appearances with perfect precision reduced to measuring time in vague maybes.

"Finish that," I nodded toward his bowl, "then we're going for a walk."

He looked up sharply. "It's late."

"Perfect time for it. No one around to recognize us." The words slipped out before I could catch them, but his flinch told me he understood the implication. No fans with cameras, no dispatch reporters, no one to turn a simple walk into another scandal.

The night air carried hints of approaching autumn as we wandered the empty streets. So different from Seoul's constant energy. Here, crickets replaced car horns, and stars actually competed with streetlights.

"Tell me about the store," I prompted when the silence stretched too long.

"Not much to tell. I help stock shelves sometimes. Ring up customers when my sister needs a break." His voice stayed carefully neutral. "Simple work."

"Simple can be good."

He laughed hollowly. "Simple is empty. Empty is..." he trailed off, stopping to stare at the moon. "Empty is safer."

The words carried so much weight - all the pain he'd been carrying alone in this quiet town. All the memories he tried to make simple by making them empty.

"Y/n..."

"I keep thinking," he continued softly, "about that last normal morning. Before everything shattered. Making coffee while Giselle stole bites of my breakfast. Winter pretending not to document every moment. Ningning actually finding something in her left pocket for once..."

His voice cracked slightly. "It felt so permanent then. Like I'd always have mornings of coffee runs and practice room chaos and family dinners with terrible cooking experiments. Like I'd always have..."

"Them," I finished gently when he couldn't.

"Them," he echoed, the word carrying years of love and loss. "I thought I was protecting them by leaving. Giving them space to heal without my mistakes haunting them. But sometimes I wonder..."

"About?"

"If Ningning still loses everything. If Winter's still documenting every moment. If Karina remembers to take care of herself while taking care of everyone else. If Giselle..." he stopped abruptly, pressing his palms against his eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't ask. I know you can't..."

"Hey," I touched his arm gently. "You did protect them. Every decision you made, even the ones that hurt most - they were all about keeping them safe."

He turned away, but not before I caught the tears he tried to hide. We walked in silence after that, his grief too heavy for words.

The dirt path crunched softly beneath our feet as we walked, so different from Seoul's endless concrete. Mountains loomed in the distance like gentle giants, their silhouettes barely visible against the star-studded sky. The air here felt different - cleaner somehow, carrying hints of fresh grass and late summer flowers I couldn't name. A stream somewhere nearby provided gentle background music, its soft burbling mixing with cricket songs and the occasional hoot of an owl.