Annie

Day: 777

♬kill my time - 5 seconds of summer♬

"C'mon, we're gonna be late!" I frantically rushed around the kitchen trying to find Jungkook's car keys, which he swore he had left by the fruit bowl.

"Yeah, yeah!" He called from our bedroom, where I'd left him struggling with a bow tie. Bundling down the hall, hunched over as he tried to put a sock on, he was a haphazard mess. He shuffled past a stack of cardboard boxes that we were still yet to unpack, our new home still in its infancy.

"Keys?" I questioned once more, as he came to a frantic stop just in front of me. Wild-eyed and still as devilishly handsome as he had been the very first time I'd laid eyes on him, he looked like a Hollywood heartthrob. White tux, polished black brogues and a white rose pinned into his lapel, I just knew he'd be doing Bond impressions after a few drinks. His hair was uncharacteristically blonde, a last-minute dye job at Jimin's request for the day ahead.

"God damn, pretty baby," he whistled, wide eyes surveying every single inch of me for the first time that morning.

I was in a one-shoulder wrap dress, ivory satin clinging to my body before it delicately billowed out around my legs. My hair had been left to grow out to its natural dark shade, as I no longer felt the need to bleach it every time my heart was broken - but that was probably on account of the fact that it wasn't getting broken. Pinned up, a few loose strands tumbled next to my face. Truthfully, I was feeling a little self-conscious, so watching him gulp at the sight of me was a confidence boost.

Closing the gap between us, Jungkook snaked his arms around my waist, holding me flush to his chest. "Do you reckon they'll be annoyed if we just elope?"

"Chloe and Jimin?" I grinned at the stupidity of his suggestion. "Annoyed that the best man and a bridesmaid eloped on their wedding day? Nah of course not."

In between her endless wedding-related breakdowns over the last few months, Chloe had explicitly told me to just elope instead. The thought was tempting, and even more so when I had Jungkook holding onto me like this, but it would have to wait.

"She'd kill us wouldn't she?" Jungkook grinned.

"First-degree murder," I nodded slowly, voice low as his lips sank into mine. "Don't, you'll ruin my lipstick."

"Good."

"Seriously," I laughed, worming out of his grasp. "We were meant to leave like, five minutes ago, Kook."

We were both due at the wedding venue, a hotel in the heart of the city, at 9. It was now only five minutes to the hour, and there was no way we'd be able to dart across the city in that time.

Having moved slightly further out of the hustle and bustle of the urbanised districts, Jungkook and I had had only one requirement when shopping around for our first home: a sea view.

Okay so that was a lie; he'd also wanted a garage, and I'd insisted on a spare bedroom that I could use as an office, but the sea view was the most important one. It was the deal-breaker.

Thankfully we'd been able to find a quaint fixer-upper that ticked all of our boxes. In need of a little TLC, Jungkook and I had more than enough to spare for it.

Our days consisted of waking up to autumnal sunlight seeping in through our windows, which didn't yet have curtains up, and watching dust particles dance in the stream of light until we mustered up the energy to escape from the warm cocoon of our duvet.

Currently on leave from work, he'd spend the days painting with brushes larger than he was used to, coating our walls in white paint. It was the perfect blank canvas for us to then cover in bright jewel tones - although which tone was still up for debate. We'd gotten through about thirty pots of tester paint for just our bedroom alone, and it was looking as if we'd have to just play roulette until we came to a decision.

The office had been the first room we'd set up. Light and airy, it overlooked the calm Busan shores and provided me with enough clarity to free my mind and work. There were still files to organise into the filing cabinet, and shelves to put up for my books, but the first thing Jungkook had done on the day we received our freshly cut keys was to hang up two framed pieces of paper: the cover of The National Gazette from the day my story went to print, and the Horuragi Award, presented to me by the Korean Institute of Journalism the following year. Though I'd never set out to become a whistleblower, he still liked to tease me about, so he hung a shiny silver whistle up next to them too.

The Busan Gazette was still home for me, but I'd started working on a freelance basis, having grown a bit of an appetite for weeding out rotten roots. Thanks to this, the office was where I'd spend most of my time through the day, with the exception of when I heard him whining about colour choices. I'd lean against the doorframe of whichever room he was in, with a warm cup of coffee nestled in my palms, and watch him fondly as he scratched the back of his head, debating against two nearly identical emerald shades.

Eventually, the scent of coffee would alert him to my presence, and he'd turn around bashfully, doe-eyed and a little forlorn. We'd close the space between us, and then he'd dial the radio up and we'd dance to whichever dated classic was humming through the speakers.

It was a simple life; a happy life.

"Here," I spoke absent-mindedly, raising my thumb above his eyebrow to brush away a fleck of dried paint.

"What would I do without you?" he purred amorously, pressing his lips into mine. Nearly two years on, and he still never failed to get my heart racing.

"Be even later than we already are," I teased, pulling on his hand as I turned to walk away from him. "Now where are those bloody keys?!"

JUNGKOOK

♬ safety net - ariana grande ft. ty dolla $ign ♬

We'd been in our taxi for about three minutes when I realised that I had drunkenly put my car key in my blazer pocket the night before. Why Jimin had thought having his bachelor party the night before would be a good idea, I'd never know. And why I drunkenly thought that my blazer would be the best place to put my keys? Well, I suppose it wasn't all that stupid. Drunk Jungkook 1, sober (hungover) Jungkook 0.

"You're an idiot," Annie's beautiful laugh filled the car as she took the keys from me, popping them into her clutch. No matter how many times she called me that, it had me falling in love all over again.

It was strange how we'd still not yet grown out of that honeymoon phase. Life still felt like a sunset; cool blues carrying me throughout the day, warm oranges keeping me content and hot pinks igniting sparks in my body whenever I looked in Annie's direction.

And Annie? Oh, Annie was the brightest colour of them all.

"Sorry," I mumbled a little sheepishly, but she didn't mind. There was no inconvenience that bothered Annie enough for her to get mad; she reserved those emotions for spells of writers block and reruns of the How I Met Your Mother series finale. Coincidentally, watching the finale always seemed to get her pumped up enough to write again, so I think she saw it as both a blessing and a curse.

As the car rolled through the city streets, Annie's hand tightened on mine, noticing my gaze out of the window. We were passing the intersection which had formerly housed Cait&Co's flagship store.

As with all of their stores over the year or so, it had ceased to trade and been sold off to cover the costs of their legal fees.

While I'd chosen to wash my hands of the whole debacle, I wasn't the only participant who had been affected by their meddling. The fall out of it all hadn't been pretty.

Once Annie's report went live, their empire crumbled almost instantly. Their stocks and shares value had depleted to the point of no return overnight, with many high-up board members jumping ship to avoid taking responsibility for the mess that they had made.

As their corporate integrity was being scrutinised by all angles of the media, disgruntled employees found it the perfect time to dogpile and raise their issues of mistreatment in the workplace. The company was ravaged from the inside out, and that was before they'd even had to face the repercussions of their corruption. Karma got them first, the court of law second.

There was a blanket compensation given to all participants of the trials, which I'd begrudgingly accepted. It was too much money for any one person, and no matter how I tried to justify being worthy of it, I couldn't sit right knowing that the money in my bank account was dirty.

After a lot of late-night discussions with Annie, we knew that as a collective, we'd probably never be more financially secure, but we also didn't want to build our life together off the back of dirty money.

We kept a little in a rainy day fund, but most of it went on the purchase of a second studio and the subsequent start-up that was born there. It became the base of our non-profit, Au-cademy.

Taking Wednesdays off from work, we ran classes for those affected with some form of colourblindness.

Conditions were rare, but once word of the trials got out, a mass migration of the colour impaired flocked to Busan, which meant that classes were always full. I'd do art workshops, and get people working with colour, while Annie would run creative writing classes based on visualising colour through words.

It was a small contribution to help the community, but it was something at least. We weren't able to fix colourblindness, unlike the Clinic, who had moved onto their third and final wave of testing before national roll-out, but we could help people realise that a fulfilling life could be lived even without seeing the full-colour spectrum.

"You good?" Annie spoke softly, breaking me from my trance.

Of course I am. I'm with you.

She knew me like the back of her hand, every freckle, every tendon, every vein. There was no hiding my emotions from her, not that I ever wanted to. I'd done it before, and had learned early on that it didn't suit us. Honesty was the crux of all things pure, and lord knows my love for her was as pure as it comes.

Stroking my thumb with hers, Annie never made me feel alone, but she also gave me the space I needed if I needed it. Today wasn't one of those days. Reaching over, I sank my fingers into her buckle lock to release her seatbelt. Swiftly, I dragged her satin covered body across the leather seats with ease, replacing her former seatbelt with the one designated to the middle seat instead, securing her in place. Sexy? Probably not. Safe? Fuck yes. There's no way I'd jeopardise Annie's safety, not for the world.

Holding my left arm across my body, I interlinked our fingers, letting my right hand rest between her thighs.

"I love you," I nuzzled into her hair, lost in the coconut scent. Her shoulders lowered, poised frame relaxing at my words as she leant the side of her body against mine.

"I love you, too."

Our day was just beginning, but all I wanted was to curl up next to her and waste yet another evening in the sheets with her.

It would never be a waste, though, not really, not when it somehow felt like she gave purpose to my life. I was a better man because of her, a better worker, a better son - she even made sure I called my mother more than once in a blue moon, and invited my dad round for dinner just because. I'd had more meals with him in the last two years than all of my adult life combined.

Nestling my lips against her exposed shoulder, my touch was delicate yet deliberate; just as her impact on my life had been.

♬ beautiful - bazzi ft. camila cabello ♬

By the time we'd dealt with our friends' pre-wedding jitters, it felt as if months and months had built up to just one minute moment. In a way, it had; two small words - 'I do'. On the other hand, this wasn't just one small moment; it was the rest of their lives.

As we stood in position by the alter with the wedding party, I found myself staring across at Annie. I wondered how it would feel like to say our own vows to one another.

She'd always been so much better at gathering her words together than I had, and I knew she'd show me up - but I kinda woulda liked her to do so. I would have wanted everyone to see just how intelligent and brilliant my wife-to-be was.

Perhaps I was getting ahead of myself.

We had another painstaking three weeks - 24 days, to be exact - until our second anniversary. It wasn't long at all, but like a kid counting down to Christmas, it felt endless to me. I just wanted it now. I was impatient, a question waiting on the tip of my tongue.

I needed to know if Annie would consider keeping me around for the rest of her life.

Realistically, I couldn't imagine a scenario in which she said no. We'd spoken about it enough for me to know her ring size and to ask her father first, but a cocksure attitude would only lead to further embarrassment if she did say no. Still, I remained quietly optimistic.

When her eyes flicked over to mine, I bashfully realised that I had been staring, but I didn't stop. She smiled, and I was certain that I'd never seen another human more beautiful; honey skin, blushed cheeks, a perfectly sloped shoulder and a dainty, ringless, hand holding Chloe's bouquet.

With a scrunch of her nose, she had me smiling like a fool. She'd adopted my mannerisms, just as I had hers, and it was hard to know exactly where my personality ended and where hers began.

Casting a glance to the witnesses, I couldn't believe how breathtakingly beautiful their venue was. We were on a rooftop in the middle of the city, and everything, everything, was white. A pergola shaded the guests, with hundreds of gorgeous white wisterias hanging like fluffy clouds above them.

The chairs were draped in linen, a white carpet rolled down the aisle and antique vases had been filled to the point of spilling over with dainty flowers, trailing down the sides, some even had arrangements carefully 'spilt' on the floor. It was all intentional of course - Chloe had designed the wedding to a fine point, and Jimin had watched in awe every step of the way.

A couple of rows back, Yoongi had nearly mastered the art of discreetly pulling a sea-salted chocolate bar from his pocket, but he was always given away by the sharp snapping noise as he broke a chunk or two off for Jin. Always the same chocolate bar, always the same ocean blue packaging, always the same routine. Always.

To their left sat Namjoon, who had recently started seeing green again, thanks to the new girl in the office who had taken Annie's job. Chloe had invited her along, which had saved Namjoon the pressure of asking her to be his plus one, but the shy smile and awkward glances he was casting her way gave him away.

Beside me was Hobi, who already had eyes on Chloe's sister. Well, if a wedding wasn't the place to fall in love, then I didn't know where was.

Vows said, rings exchanged, tears cried; our best friends were married.

And it was magic.

The wedding party leapt into action, firing off party poppers filled with paint powder. Rainbow clouds dusted over the couple, staining them from head to toe. Raspberry, mustard, and emerald; the powder transformed Chloe's white dress into a multi-coloured couture masterpiece.

Small cannons from the back of the aisle cast excess colour particles into the air, sending the entire venue into a state of metamorphosis. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, their wedding was a celebration of everything that Chloe and Jimin embodied; colour.

And despite all the chaos erupting around me, my eyes still found their way back home; my irises resting on my Iris. Dappled in all seven shades of the rainbow, I couldn't help but stop and stare at her.

Crouching to speak softly with the flower girl, Annie was in her element. Pointing up towards the colour confetti, she was sunshine breaking through a thunder cloud; a spotlight singling her out in amongst a sea of people. Cooing and awing with the toddler, who was probably no more than two years old, I realised that I'd never actually seen Annie around kids before.

It was funny, because the first inconsequential sentence that I had ever uttered towards Annie was the threat of booking myself in for a vasectomy. It was never really on the cards, just something I had said because I felt awkward and wanted to break the tension. Two short years ago, I hadn't seen kids in my near future at all; now, I was considering which colour would be best for the nursery.

Annie still thought it was the spare bedroom. We'd spoken about the prospect of starting our own little family at quite some length, mindlessly, as if it were a pipedream, but she had this curious way of always turning my dreams into reality.

Holding my hand out for her to take, I pulled her in close.

"If I'd have known you looked that pretty in a paint-stained dress, I would have proposed to you a lot sooner," I flirted with a jovial tone, though it wasn't entirely a lie.

"Sooner?" She smirked, challenging me. "How can it be sooner if you haven't done it already?"

"That mouth of yours is too smart for its own good, pretty baby," I whispered against her lips, stealing a kiss as I did so.

"Fuck yourself," her lips rose into a dreamy smile, and as much as I wanted to banter with her, I was just too enamoured.

"I mean it though," I circled back to my former statement. "You look gorgeous."

"You're not bad yourself," she gave me a coy smile, as I began to dance with her in time to the jazz band that had just started their set.

"No? How do I look?" I teased, vying for more compliments.

She paused and took a step back, taking the sight of me in. I could feel the paint powder on my skin, and knew for a fact my suit was a chaotic colourful mess. The way she was biting down on her plump bottom lip reassured me that she seemed to like it, too.

"How you look is irrelevant, " she shrugged as I pulled her back into my chest.

"Oh yeah?" I questioned, curious to see where she was going with this one.

She nodded her head, hair nestling up against my suit. "Uh-huh."

When we'd first met, I had told her that my senses were heightened due to my lack of being able to see colour, and I really did believe that to be my truth. As with everything Annie did, she'd proven me wrong. I only really had one sense these days: her.

She was my touch; soft skin, silky hair and warm gold jewellery.

She was my sound; a precious laugh, sleepy morning voice and delicate hums in the shower.

She was my taste; bitter coffee, sweet vanilla syrup and skittles.

She was my scent; coconut shampoo, newspaper ink and acrylic paint.

But above everything else, she was my colour.

She'd become the red of the blood that fuelled my heart, the orange of the sunsets we watched by the seafront, and the yellow glow of a waning crescent moon over the shore. She embodied the green of freshly cut grass, the blue rolling waves that we observed tumbling over one another from the sanctuary of our bed, and the purple bruises that her mouth still liked to leave on my skin. 

To see Annie was to see colour.

I'd known that fact for what felt like an eternity now, but as I looked at her in that moment, head to toe in the rainbow, she was still the brightest colour of them all.

"So what is relevant?" I mumbled against her cheek, dipping down to kiss it protectively. I wanted everyone to know that I was the man lucky enough to call her mine.

"The way you make me feel," she spoke tentatively, kissing my cheek. Her lips, which she'd conveniently painted red with my favourite lipstick of hers, skirted too close to mine. I had to kiss her. It felt like I would die if I didn't.

There was a volitional quality to the way my lips met hers, wilful and wanting. No matter how languid or long-lasting those moments were, I always wanted more. Too much of Annie would just never be enough.

Drawing away, but only slightly, I let my lips ghost hers as I spoke. "And how do I make you feel?"

She paused for a moment, pulling away to study me, as if she was checking that her statement would be correct. Smile radiant, eyes dazzling, there was no way I wasn't making this woman my wife.

Her hands slid back around my waist, tucking themselves beneath my blazer. Looking up at me, bright blue eyes through impossibly dark lashes, I'd never been more in love.

Content, she finally responded:

"Golden."

A/N - if this was a film, golden by harry styles would start playing at this point and the credits would roll as the camera panned out of the rooftop wedding party and onto the city/sea. it would be adorable. trust me. @ steven speilberg, hit me up.

for the little non-profit they started, Au is the periodic table code for Gold, which was annies last colour so it's basically like the golden academy, but written in a pompous fashion lol

Horuragi means whistle, and i believe it is the name of an actual award given to investigative journalists 

also lmao you really think i was gonna have a time jump and not use it as an excuse to have blonde jjk? WRONG