He didn't know where it went wrong.

He had certainly tried his best, right? He had loved her, had cared for her, had cherished her like she was the only ray of sunshine in his dark, tormented life.

So why did she leave him? How could she?

Saeran rammed his fist against the wall and sobbed, his other hand clutching the news article with pure hatred and frustration. How could she; how could she? How could she leave him? After all they had been through together? Did that day in Mint Eye meant nothing to her? Did he taking a fucking bullet for her meant nothing to her? Did he betraying his own Savior because he wanted to save her life meant nothing to her!?

Apparently, it didn't mean jack shit to her.

He could barely remember what happened all those years ago with all the resets and alternative universes fucking his head up. What they had been fighting about. It had been something stupid and small, like when he hadn't left his room in days because of a client's urgent order that he had to finish as fast as possible. She had knocked his room down and came barging in, a tray of food balanced on her hand and an entire tub of ice cream on the other, fiery fire in her eyes and demanded him to shove it all down his throat.

Ice cream had always taste bittersweet to him after that timeline.

But he refused to eat and snapped, he thinks. The fight was hazy in his mind and he honestly couldn't remember much. But things escalated and she was crying, he was crying, they were shouting and throwing stuff and–

He had snarled at her that the Savior would have never done this to him.

And that had hit her hard. She stopped crying immediately, wiped away her tears and stood up, hands balled into fists on her sides.

"MC," he had pleaded with her the second those words left his mouth, "please, babe, you know I didn't mean that–"

"So I am not as good as a manipulative psychopath?" she laughed bitterly, "You know what, Saeran? I don't know why I keep trying." He stared at her but she kept eye contact and didn't look away like she usually would, "Don't play dumb with me; I know you know about the resets. I have chosen you numerous times, but you kept hurting me. You pushed me away, you humiliated me, and now you would stoop so low and compare me with Rika? The woman who made your life miserable?

"I can't do this anymore, Saeran."

And she slammed the door at his face, still sobbing heartbrokenly but full of determination.

Guess now he knew where it went wrong.

And he hadn't move that day, had stay locked in his room for however long it was until there was a gentle knock on his door. He had rushed over and kicked the door open, hoping to see her there, eyes still full of love and care, her beaming smile still stuck on her face and he would pull her in, would murmur apologies into her skin as he make love to her, please her and obey her every word for the first time in his life and many more times to come. He had expected her to be there, had prayed for her to just be there, please, she didn't have to forgive him but please just be there, give him a chance–

It was Saeyoung. A very confused and panicked Saeyoung.

"Saeran? What happened? I saw MC practically running out of the bunker. Did–did you guys fight?" His idiotic brother fidgeted with the sleeve of his hoodie but concern was evident in his voice.

"Where is she?" He grunted, grabbing his jacket.

"She said she's going back to Rika's apartment. Saeran, did you make her angry?" Saeyoung's hands were suddenly on his shoulders, blazing golden eyes stared painfully direct into his own. He shoved him aside with a growl and ran as fast as he could to her.

Please. Not Rika's apartment.

She was going to reset.

Things had gotten even more confusing after that day. He found himself back in Mint Eye's headquarters, accompanied by a splitting headache, his phone glowing on the table and the RFA chatroom opened. This girl, MC, was online. She was the only one.

His nightmares greeted him like old friends when he had to return to that empty and cold bed alone.

And just like that, they began again.

Technically, he could just ask her to a place and kidnap her without letting her meet any of the RFA's members. Then he could have her all to himself.

But the game they were playing had rules and she was smart. Smart enough to avoid ever having to see him.

There she was, standing in front of the Savior's apartment. She had her big girl mask on; he could tell, but her eyes were red and puffy. All he wanted to do at that moment is to leave his hiding place and askher why, scoop her into his arms and assure her that he would never make that stupid mistake again, hearing her assurance that they were fine, they were okay, they would not be over because of his brainless slip up…

But something stopped him and he swore he could murder someone.

Eleven days later and she broke out of the cycle with a good ending. Of course she would; almost any bad ending involves him, do they? And she didn't want to see him; she refused to see him.

And that hurts more than he would ever admit.

He had been there, watching and waiting patiently for her to realize that she loves him, him, Saeran Choi and no one else. She would, eventually, right? She would come back to him like she always had, always will. They belong to each other, MC belongs to him and he won't give her up that easily, she would come back to him–

Except she didn't.

He saw it through the monitor in his room, eyes trailing after her as she dressed up in that adorable sweater of hers, a pair of glasses adorned her adorable chubby cheeks. S–Since when was she shortsighted? Or farsighted? He couldn't remember and it made him feel even worse than before.

But all of his guilt went flying out of the nearest window in place for the burning jealousy when the man she chose walked into the room.

Fucking Jumin Han.

He smiled and kissed the back of her hand like the old fashioned fuckass he is. They exchanged some words and he leaned in to whisper something to her ear.

Saeran saw the blush on her face and he would shoot the fucking monitor if the bullet can magically get to the other side.

He settled for kicking the nearby chair instead. Temporary satisfaction but the mischievous gaze that rich kid was giving his woman made his blood boil all over again. That asshole has unclean intentions written all over his face.

Han said something and she laughed joyously. That painful sting in his chest came back but he tried to ignore it. Fuck, what he wouldn't give just to get audio from this fucking CCTV footage…

Cold gray eyes suddenly swept the room and landed on him. His heart leapt up to his throat for a choking moment.

…Fuck.

He tilted his head and asked her something, about the camera he assumed. He knew he'd get out of this when MC waved her hand like it's nothing and the stiffness on the corporative heir's face eased.

The air returned to its usual cheerful mood after that unnecessary tension. They were laughing again and Saeran was positively pissed. He draped an arm over her possessively and Saeran wished he was there to rip his filthy arm off of her.

He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and Saeran growled.

He let her go and Saeran sighed in relief.

Then he got down to one knee and Saeran cried at the same time with her surprised gasp.

Jumin Han launched into a speech about fucking true love at first sight and whatever cringey shit the rich, spoiled asshole could think of. But his eyes weren't watching. His head was burning with hate, even more hate than the sudden and out-of-nowhere urge to kill Luciel for fucking revenge he had since the reset happened. The world was spinning, he had a gun on his hand, the other clutching his head and this is not safe, he should at least put the gun down–

Will you marry me? Even his blurry eyes could catch the lip movements and panic swelled in him. Please, please, MC, no, you can't–

Yes!

A loud BANG and the air around him shattered along with the wrecked monitor. He was gulping heavily, desperate for that oxygen but he couldn't breathe, couldn't feel anything other than the agonizing pain. She– she―

The other disciples heard the gunshot and broke the room down, restraining him and kicked his gun away. Rika– no, the Savior– came thundering in, an aura of murderous rage around her. She was screaming something, shouting something, her followers were beating him up and it hurt, it hurt, but nothing had stung as bad as when she jumped up in glee and kissed her husband–to–be, eyes glittering with pure joy, her arms around his neck and her lips smashed together with his.

Saeran had never managed to make her look so happy.

The wedding was announced a few days later and the entire country exploded with gossip. The Savior had been in an exceptionally bad mood lately and Saeran found himself handcuffed inside his room with a bloody nose and some bruised limbs. It's okay. Nothing he hadn't been through before.

But the heartache was new and he does not like it one bit.

She had her happy ending already; what else does she want? A family? Children? Grandchildren?

What about him? When would he be rescued from this hellish paradise? When would he be reunited with his twin brother? When would it be his turn again to spend a timeline with her?

The game had been carefully programmed by some otherworldly beings to avoid any kind of error but they had not expected him and his sudden awareness. His memories of previous resets or routes, as he calls them, come back to him every night in place of prewritten nightmares. He thought he was crazy at first and was just making up what-ifs and alternative endings for him and his brother/nemesis, but he wasn't a complete idiot. He soon realised that these things have happened before. And he wasn't the only one who could remember them.

Timelines after timelines had changed him. The Savior is now nothing more than a confusing thought, and MC, the one whom he had only officially met–as the game declared–for a grand total of eleven days, is now his everything.

Doesn't mean that he was her everything, though.

And he felt so bitter. Hollow, mourning for her and for what would've– could've happened if he had never brought Rika up that day.

Would it have been him on his knees before her?

He…He couldn't tell.

"Hello?"

"You know who I am."

"W–What? Who are you?"

"Don't lie, MC. Look, I just want to talk. I'm not going to hurt you. Can you see me behind the church?"

"…okay."

"S–Sae–no, Unknown?"

And there she was. He wasn't sure if she was taunting him or not, but she showed up in her wedding dress, looking like an angel. Out of all things to wear to meet her ex–lover…

But he couldn't deny it. She looked as beautiful as the day he lost her. He could feel a pinprick of tears on the corner of his eyes, but he toughened up and swallowed the ugly lump of emotions in his throat.

"So you said you want to talk? Why did you bring me to Rika's apartment then?" she asked hesitantly, still trying to stay in character. It pissed him off.

But seeing her again after so long made the urge to kiss her irresistible.

So he did. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her in, finally encasing her figure in his embrace and smashed his lips against her cherry red ones, and it was incredible, it was like a dream come true, her lips were so soft and comforting and he could almost taste the tub filled to the brim of his favorite ice cream she had brought in for him that day, almost taste the familiar smile on her face–

Except she pushed him away.

"I–I can't, Saeran. I love Jumin."

He knew it all along, but hearing those words from her, from the pair of lips he had just kissed passionately half a second ago–

It hurt. It fucking hurt.

And she had sounded so shameful and apologetic, too. It made him wondered why did she even say it.

He froze, and the mask on her face went up again. The pang of pure heartbreak and sudden jealousy rattled agonizingly in his head, but he ignored it and put on his game face, too. If this is how she wanted it to go…

"Don't play dumb with me, MC," he recited her words a timeline ago. He couldn't help it if he sounded bitter and resentful– he was feeling plenty of bitterness and resentment, so he thought he would share.

"I know you know about the resets."

She paled, shock on her face. She…should've expected this if she said that before, right?

...Right?

She didn't say anything and turned away.

"MC–"

"I didn't expect you to actually remember."

…What?

"I wanted to keep this a secret. I mean, I've seen what the resets could do to Seven, and I just–"

Just.

"I just don't want you to suffer the same thing."

"But I wanted to be with you!" he argued.

To no avail.

"I just– I just can't, Saeran. I want you to be happy."

"My happiness doesn't mean shit to you!" he snapped, gripping her wrist when she tried to take a step back, "Have you ever care about me? Have you ever even love me?"

"How could you say that?" she cried, tears starting to well up in the corners of her eyes, "So I was the one who didn't want a happy ending? I was the one who brought up that psychopathic maniac and compared her to myself? After all she had done to you–"

He didn't realize that he was almost snapping her wrist until she started crying out of pain.

He let go immediately, but the self-loathing and disgust was already there in his mind, amplified by each of the soft hiccups that came out of her smeared lips and the drops of salt water staining her smoky eyes. But she kept crying quietly next to him, their backs leaned against the ragged wall outside of the church.

He ruined her. Oh Luciel's God, he had ruined her.

Don't give yourself too much credit, a part of his mind snarled at him, She was doomed the second she chose you.

And...and he guessed she was.

She was deadly quiet now. And he wanted to kiss her so badly–they're barely inches across each other–but he needed to control himself. "I never wanted us to be like this," he said softly instead, his words barely above a whisper.

But she caught them, "Me neither," she admitted, and offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I've always loved you, you know."

Loved.

And that one word stung.

"We–we can run away," he told her gently, fast, desperation creeping into his tone, "We can start new, or you can just reset and choose me again–"

She shook her head, and the pity in her eyes made him angry, "I can't, Saeran," Her smile was painful and tight, "I owe Jumin more than that."

"Who fucking gives a shit about that asshat?" he lashed out. Was it really time to care about things like that? "You belong with me, remember? It was always going to be the two of us, just the two of us–"

"Please, Saeran, just please, try to understand!" she sighed, "I owe Jumin for all the love he had given me, and I can't just– walk away like that. What if he remembers as well? Just like us?"

"I don't fucking care!" he yelled at her some more, like a short-tempered child with his popsicle taken from him, "If you owe Jumin, then–"

What about me?

But the words got stuck on the tip of his tongue and wouldn't come out. It sounded pathetic, even for him.

Then…

The bells rang and the scuffled footsteps of anxious bodyguards woke them both from their lulled state of mind. Instantly she was up, pulling him with her and pushing him towards the nearest exit. A thing he loves about her.

"You need to leave," she insisted, "Jumin will kill you if he sees you here."

And she was right. Or she made sense, at least.

"MC," he called her name and she spun around to face him, her wrinkled dress flayed underneath her, layers upon layers of silvery white made her look like a goddess bathed in moonlight. "Just–"

Just.

"Just–remember that I do love you, okay?"

She gave him a little smile and walked away, her heels clicking daintily against the stone tiles. The second she disappeared behind the corner, collective sighs of reliefs and 'there you are, Miss' spread across the peaceful silence of a summer afternoon. He remembered the sound of birds singing, remembered seeing flowers blooming, and her, in her newly adjusted dress and makeup, standing at the altar next to the spoiled brat in a black suit, smiling from ear to ear.

Well, he hoped she was happy, at least.

Morning came to him with an unexpected warmth. He squinted as the sunlight shone into his eyes, somehow managing to slipped through the heavy three-layered blinds she insisted him to install in their room. Thumbs up for you, fucking curtains.

He reached over to the other side of his bed in instinct, expecting it to be cold and empty. His fingertips brushed against balmy, soft flesh instead.

Needless to say, he was very surprised.

Saeran bolted right up from his spot on the queen-sized bed and shook his head, trying to get the confusion and disorientation out of his system. He took a look to his left once the temporary blindness has gone and–

There she was. Precious and plump and breathtaking and–

There. Here. She's here, right by his side.

"Saeran? Babe, are you okay?" She was half asleep, her voice throaty and hoarse from whatever they were up to last night but still have that delightful hint of concern.

He looked her in the eyes, minty green met chocolate brown and they blinked.

She yelped in surprise when he scooped her up in his arms and kissed the living daylights out of her, all tongue and teeth and swollen lips.

"Whoa there, Cookie, bit early in the morning huh?" she laughed joyously, tugging the loose strands of hair behind her ear. "What's the occasion?"

He didn't say anything, but the mere look in his eyes got her attention. She's familiar with this; she got this.

"Bad reset memories?" she sighed and hugged him, her hands soothingly caressed the rolls of muscles on his back. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and inhaled. She smelled heavenly; sweat and clean sheets and faint cologne. "Babe, you know I'll–"

"It was that timeline when you dumped me and married Rich Fuckboy Extraordinaire."

"–oh. That one."

"Yep."

"…Cookie, I'll go make breakfast, okay? How does that sound?"

"Delightful." he kissed the top of her head and she smiled, untangling herself from the sheets. According to the brand-new purplish marks on her skin, they've had a wild night.

He held her hand and lingered when she was about to leave the bed. MC looked at him fondly, and he pouted.

"Just–remember that I do love you, okay?"

The smile she gave him was the same as that day, sans the melancholiness and pain in her eyes. There was nothing but unadulterated joy in those warm cocoa orbs that morning, and the image of a half naked, beaming love burned itself into his mind.

It wasn't the calm before the storm; it was the peaceful and vibrant rainbow after the raging rain that greeted him.

And he found out that he didn't mind it at all.