Your parents had always called you names.

Useless. Pathetic. Ugly.

The kids at your orphanage hadn't been much better, distancing themselves from you and wondering why you were so weird, whispering insults behind your back.

Only two people from the Mint Eye had ever called you beautiful, and that included a bipolar man who had made it clear that he now hated you, and a manipulative woman who made it her life's purpose to destroy happiness (though, of course, she thought she was spreading it).

On the rare occasions that you had looked into the mirror and considered yourself to be particularly stunning, you had always thought that it was the form-fitting dresses that the Savior had given you that did the trick.

As you stared at yourself in the mirror, dressed in Vanderwood's cargo pants and a tank top he had stolen from god knows where, you noted, with mild amusement, that you truly were pretty. You stared at your face, still not used to the white locks that framed your face and the mint green eyes that stared back at you, but the lack of any magenta clothing articles was a pleasant change.

You took a step back before walking out of the room. "What should I do with this dress?" You asked Vanderwood, who had been waiting at the door while you changed.

"Give it to me. I'll burn it."

You raised an eyebrow, but handed the clothing over nonetheless.

"What? Don't you want to forget about the Mint Eye?" Vanderwood's question made sense, but...

"Kind of hard to forget about the Mint Eye when it stares back at me every time I look in the mirror." Your words weren't laced with anger or venom, a simple truth that you would eventually need to accept.

Vanderwood still looked slightly apologetic, though. "Oh. Right. Well, you can't forget about the Mint Eye either way. You still need to help hack into...what did you call it? The defense room? Perimeter?"

"Security room," You told Vanderwood, but hesitating. "Are you sure Luciel will even let me use his laptops anymore? I doubt he wants to see me right now..."

Vanderwood chuckled.

"Luciel usually isn't as unprofessional as you saw him act this morning. He'll be able to handle it. The only reason he let his emotions get the better of him was because he let his emotions loose around you." The man paused, rolling his eyes. "Kissing is stupid. Either have sex or don't, but there's no benefit to making out on a couch."

You blushed, pulling your eyes away from the brunette in front of you. You didn't refute his claim of kissing being stupid, not wanting to admit that you, too, had been emotionally invested when you kissed Luciel.

It was your first kiss, after all.

It's not like you knew that Saeran had claimed your lips once before.

"Though I guess your situation was a little different," Vanderwood said, pausing thoughtfully for a moment. You thought he was being kind until he continued, "Given that you kissed Luciel because you'd always wanted to kiss his brother, and he was the second-best thing."

"That's not true!" You blurted, resenting the idea that he thought you had only kissed Luciel because of your prior feelings for Saeran. "Saeran and I were never like that..."

"Oh?" Vanderwood said, taking a step closer to you. Resisting the urge to back up further against the wall, you stared up at the man, not letting yourself be intimidated by him. "So you're saying that if I had happened to be there instead of Luciel...you would be fucking me right now?"

Vanderwood whispered the last part in your ear, his body close enough for you to smell the cologne he had sprayed on his suit. You felt his hot breath on your ear, tickling your neck as he continued.

"Because I could go right now, darling."

Vanderwood practically purred the words into your ear before he took an abrupt step back. "See, I told you." He smirked. "It's specifically Luciel you're attracted to. And you can't tell me he doesn't resemble his twin brother."

You swallowed, still flustered from the previous moment.

"Go, Luciel will need your help hacking in. He won't admit it, but by being there, you're making everyone's lives easier."

Vanderwood shooed you away, probably so that he could go get another cup full of coffee, and you mentally prepared yourself for a barrage of insults before stepping into Luciel's room.

It was still dark, but the short-circuited laptop had been discarded in the corner of the room, replaced by another, slightly older model.

"Use that computer." Was all Luciel said to you, not even glancing upward as you awkwardly shifted your weight onto the sagging bed, reentering the world of code.

You tried your hardest to ignore Luciel's presence, to ignore the sheer fury he managed to convey in his keystrokes alone. You wanted to apologize one more time, tell him you honestly didn't know that he was Saeran's brother, that you didn't know he didn't realize Saeran was alive, that you never meant to mislead him.

But you didn't.

You focused on the laptop in front of you, staring at code until you and it were one. Your thoughts were in binary when you abruptly stopped, seeing something interesting.

Saeran had stripped your user from all administrative privileges. Even if you were able to sign in, all you'd be able to view was a series of file folders titled 'Classified.' Saeran, on the other hand, had his user still up and running.

Your fingers stopped, staring at the screen before you.

There was no need to hack your way in if you had the password. Hacking was like breaking a window to get into someone else's house, or shimmying in through the dog door; but the password was the key to the main entrance.

If you had the password, all your troubles would be solved instantly.

"My password is always the most important person in my life."

Saeran had told you that long ago.

Very long ago.

So long ago, that it may not even be true anymore.

You still found yourself pulled toward the screen, though.

You knew, from your time in the Security Room, that you had three attempts to type in the password before the system would auto-lock you out, the only way back in via a physical override at the Mint Eye itself.

There was no need for three full tries, though.

You only needed one.

You flicked your eyes up, for the first time, and gazed at Luciel as he worked. Still engrossed, he was typing away, likely trying something much more reasonable than the far-fetched idea in your head.

You typed the characters slowly, staring at your fingers the whole time and double-checking to ensure that there were no mistakes. (Y/N).

You'd spelled your name a thousand times before, filling out various forms, sending texts. None of those instances compared to the swell of adrenaline you felt as you typed the characters that made up your name. Were you still the most important person in Saeran's life?

It was a longshot. A very long longshot. But, still, you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep unless you tried.

Your finger hovered over the 'Enter' key, and you had almost summoned the courage to press the button, when an image flashed through your mind.

It was the day you'd been released from your Secondary Commitment. The moment when you'd been in front of the great wooden door that served to separate you and the other council members.

At that moment, you still had hope. You thought that you were Saeran's number one, and that as soon as the door opened, things would immediately go back to normal.

But then the door had opened. And you'd seen it: him, arm draped around MC, laughing and smiling the way he had around you.

You inhaled sharply, recalling Saeran's fixation with MC. How he'd obsessed over her and entirely replaced you, giving her the gifts and pet names and affection that you were starved for.

How stupid, you thought to yourself, hitting backspace. As if I'd be the most important thing in his life.

With a heavy heart, you type in the characters that formed MC's name. It was so much more practical. You couldn't afford to test out too many passwords, and you already knew that Saeran hated you.

But you couldn't deny that it would hurt so much to know that Saeran had replaced you in his heart.

You let your index finger linger on top of the 'Enter' button, entirely unsure if your ignorance was bliss or not, until you couldn't bear to wait any longer. With a single flex, you'd pressed the key,

A second of buffer passed.

And then, your heart felt lighter. All hope was not lost.

Error: Incorrect password.

2 attempts remaining.

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: Uuurgh I have to work out for like an hour now . Not looking forward to that. I feel tired just thinking about it T^T Wish me luck

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Next Update: 2/13/20

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