Collection of GOT7 One-Shots (xReader)

Like Daylight (Youngjae)

Trigger Warning!

She was about to fall into the darkness. It was the thought inside her head pushing her to jump off so everything will be okay. It will be quick. It will be cold. It will hurt. But at least it will end.

"Miss?"

She looked up to see a man tentatively walking closer towards where she stood. She looked down again. The water was still inviting. The wind was making it easier to feel like she would soar.

"Miss, don't do it."

Her hold tightened out of frustration. Why must a stranger come to ruin a perfectly thought of plan?

"Miss, please, I can talk to you. Hold my hand."

She glared at his offering palm. What good would it do to hold it? She has held a lot of hands before. None were strong enough to hold on. Everybody leaves. This time, she would be the one to go.

"What are you thinking of? What took you here?"

Why does he bother? Who is she to him? She's a nobody. She doesn't matter. She's not important. Not enough.

"Tell me anything. I will listen."

"Leave me alone," she said under her breath.

Somehow, he heard. "I am not leaving until you come with me. We need to talk about this."

Talk. Everybody talks. No one cares so much about what they say. She cares so much though. She would be listening earnestly, trying to feel for them. Because she wants to forget her own pain. She wants to feel for them instead.

"What's your most favorite thing in the world?"

Most favorite thing. It was a petty question. In her fast-paced life, no one would bother to ask that. Her favourite colour is white. Her favourite food is cheesecake. Her favourite song is With A Smile.

Favourite thing? She's not materialistic enough to treasure something.

"My favourite is those keychains I got for my mother on her fiftieth birthday. It was the first present for her that I bought with my own money. Given it wasn't more than any of the gifts I gave later when I started working, I still think something given with the purest intention is the best in the world."

Gifts. She has never received any on her birthday. Even if she did, it was because they were obligated to get her something in exchange for treating them out. It's a reminder that no mater how special she is, she would never receive something without giving something in return. The world worked on give and take policy. Lucky are those who would didn't need to reciprocate.

"Who is your bestfriend?"

Bestfriend. She didn't have one. She knew some people, and each of them holds a piece of her. There wasn't a single person who she would say knows all about her and still accepts her. She filtered herself when around them, so they would stick around.

"My bestfriend is my dog, Coco. She would never leave me. Well, that must be because I feed her, but in a room full of people, I know I'm the one she will run to. She may not be able to answer me whenever I whine to her about how unfair the world is, but I know she was absorbing it. With some universe magic, she could feel it. And that thought comforts me. The possibility of being heard and understood."

"She's a dog. She wouldn't understand you. You're probably just stressing her out."

"Do you like dogs?"

She took in a sharp breath when she realized she has answered him out loud.

Dogs. She wasn't fond of dogs or any animals. She lacks the compassion to care for helpless beings who couldn't tell what they needed. But she knew how dogs were loyal and helpful. There were guide dogs and therapy dogs, and they could be dumb like a five-year-old but they knew how to love.

Love. She knew how to love. She has given a piece of her heart to each person she's encountered, and that for her was love. It didn't need to be specified. It didn't need to be reflected. It didn't need to be known. That was love.

"Who do you love most in the world?"

"No one. I love them all the same."

"How much do you love them?"

She shook your head. "I'm not a religious person, but I would pray for their happiness."

"That's a wonderful love. To be able to do something you don't usually do for the person you love."

"Maybe I'm just wired like that. I get my share of living by being useful."

"Your love language is acts of services then?"

"Love language?"

"The way you perceive love. What you think expresses love. There are five of them, and usually, you have to understand your own love language-and the other person's love language, to really know if they were or weren't giving what you think is love."

It was an interesting concept. If her love language was acts of services, then it would make sense that she wasn't feeling the love given back to her. She liked to stand on her own feet. She would dismiss any offer of help because she was afraid they would deem her weak.

It did make sense.

"I would like to help you. But I need you to admit that you need help. No matter how much I intend, if you're not willing, we wouldn't pass through this."

We. Why was he counting himself in? He didn't know her. He didn't need to do this.

"Take my hand."

She finally looked at him. She was curious who this man is. His eyes would tell his intentions.

His eyes were clear and hopeful. His smile was encouraging, like daylight.

It felt warm.

For the first time, it felt warm. And the cold wasn't that inviting anymore.

-To anyone who needs someone to listen, I'm here. Please don't ever be scared to open up to me. Let's get through it together.-