Chapter Text
Hey plane buddy.
I had to be dreaming.
It wasn’t possible.
Christopher Chahn Bahng was not sat next to me right now.
Only, he was.
With shaky hands, I pulled my hood down and turned to my right.
That face.
Those eyes that could settle every nerve while setting them on fire.
That mouth, those lips, that had soothed every wound inside and out.
The same lips smiling softly back at me.
I turned forward, staring at the ceiling of the plane.
“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” I muttered like a mantra.
“Beth.” That voice. That accent.
“Oh great, now I can hear you as well as see you. I’m unquestionably going insane because there is no-fucking-way you are on this flight right now,” I spat, fury and disbelief tangled in my throat.
“Well, if you hadn’t been snoring…” he murmured, the smirk clear in his voice.
My head whipped toward him.
He was baiting me.
Fucker.
I checked the time on my phone.
Three hours.
We’d been on this flight for three hours. Another nine to go.
How the hell was I supposed to survive nine more hours sitting next to him?
As the anger ebbed, something softer crept in.
I turned to face him again, tears betraying everything I’d fought to keep buried.
“Beth, please, talk to me,” Chris said, voice cracking. “I don’t know what happened, or what changed, or what we did wrong, -”
“Nothing,” I cut in. “No one did anything wrong. It’s me. I’m the one who never should’ve taken that stupid trip.”
“Fuck, Beth, stop it.” His voice broke on the word. “Listen to me, please. I want you to come back. We want you to come back. Maybe you think it was stupid, but you became the one person who filled a space we didn’t even know was there. And now that you’re gone, it’s a bottomless pit.” He took a breath, eyes fierce and pleading.
“So please, enlighten me, how are you the wrong person? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the best thing that ever happened to us. To me. Maybe I should be selfish for once, want something for myself. And I want you. Don’t give me that ‘you don’t know me’ crap either. We’ve got nine hours. Tell me everything. And if, by the end, I decide it’s too much… I’ll get on the next flight back to Seoul and never bother you again. Just give me a chance.”
I stared at him. Silent. Stunned.
My brain vibrated with a thousand thoughts at once.
So, I gave him what he asked for.
Everything.
The loss. The trauma. The betrayals. Every piece of abuse and self-hatred I’d kept buried under layers of silence.
I watched through tear-blurred eyes as his hands clenched and unclenched on his lap, as I described every reason I believed I didn’t deserve to exist, why I was poison, a burden, a mistake.
By the time I stopped, my throat burned, my chest ached, and my body trembled.
Chris just… looked at me.
And then, he saw.
I knew the moment he figured it out.
The real reason behind the trip.
A swan song.
His face went still, unreadable.
He leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, jaw tight.
The silence between us grew heavy, thick enough to choke on.
My leg bounced under the weight of it all.
“I just, give me a minute,” he said quietly, “I need the bathroom.”
He stood, gestured briefly to the security behind us, and walked away.
When he came back, I was standing in the aisle, stretching out stiff legs.
He stopped in front of me, eyes soft.
“Can I hug you?”
I nearly said no.
I should’ve said no.
But when his arms wrapped around me, it felt like every shattered piece of me was being gathered up, not fixed, just held together.
That scent.
Spicy vanilla and warmth.
Home.
“Chris, please, I can’t,” I whispered against his collarbone.
“Beth, I know. But please, give me a chance. We’ve got -” he glanced at his watch, “- eight hours to figure this out. I have ideas. Plans I can start as soon as we land. I need you. We need you. I know everything’s been fast and messy and impossible, but I can’t lose you. Not like this.”
He pressed a soft kiss to my temple and pulled back, eyes red.
He’d been crying.
My hand moved before I could stop it, cupping his jaw. He leaned into my touch like he’d been starving for it.
I nodded faintly.
He kissed my forehead and guided me back to my seat.
Then, pulling out a clean notebook, he wrote across the first page:
“Beth’s Comeback.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
And for the next eight hours, he planned and I listened.
He considered options, logistics, visas, everything that could make this impossible dream work.
And I just sat there, listening, watching, in awe of the man who jumped on a twelve-hour flight just to prove that I was worth something.
Four hours later, we had a plan:
I’d go home, sort everything out, passport, medication, family, and then return to Seoul for ninety days, the full visa-free period.
In that time, Chris promised he’d find a way to make me stay longer.
The last few hours slipped by.
We both drifted off, no invisible wall between us anymore, the tension replaced with something fragile and real.
Chris avoided talking much about the others, just said Felix was recovering well. I understood why. They weren’t doing well because of me. Because I’d left.
Guilt crept in, sharp and familiar.
You don’t deserve them. You don’t deserve happiness.
My fists clenched beneath the hoodie, nails cutting into my palms.
“What time will it be when we land?” I murmured.
“About eight a.m. Why?”
“I want to tell them,” I said, voice firm. I needed to see their faces. Hear their voices. Even if Minho glared holes through me.
“Okay,” he said softly. “We’ll get to the hotel then video call them.”
“Wait, hotel? My friend Kiyah’s picking me up,” I frowned.
Chris’s grin turned sheepish. “Yeah… about that.”
“Christopher. What did you do to my best friend?”
He laughed nervously.
“So… me and Kiyah talked while you were in the hospital. She saw the posts, called straight away. She helped me get in touch with your parents. She’s… very perceptive. Saw right through me. I told her I was planning to make you stay and needed help. So… you might get a text when we land saying she’s, uh, a bit delayed.”
“Motherfucker.”
I couldn’t even be mad.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I sighed, half-laughing.
“Except that I’ve had enough of your bullshit for the rest of this flight, and I’m going back to sleep.”
I huffed dramatically, a grin tugging at my lips as I stretched my legs out across his lap.
Soft, steady pressure traced up and down my calves, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself drift to sleep, safe, warm, and almost whole.