Chapter 11

Amber

"You might want to read their texts."

Casper's words hung in the air. It seemed to quake between them, the ghost of its existence filling with trepidation and anxiety. It was a reflection of her soulmates left back home with their daughter, and her guts twisted and pinched at his words. She kept quiet, allowed the meaning of them to sink into the silence.

It was a reminder that she couldn't stay angry for long.

The spoon seared; cold against her lips as Casper pulled it free. The leftover traces of cream were cleaned by eager lips. The dessert was consumed between kisses that pulled her mind free from the sticky grasp of motherhood.

She'd been waiting for what felt like years to be freed from Rumiko, and yet her mind was filled with worry for her. Her nose yearned for the scent of milk and baby. And her arms felt empty without the weight of her daughter. It felt strange to long for a child she hated to be with.

Did the medication work? Was she still crying? Did Rumiko miss her Mommy? Were her soulmates losing their fucking shit or was Rumiko being an absolute angel in their presence? Would she find them buried in diapers or reclining against the sofa, smug and annoyingly good at everything? Her lips trembled at that thought. It felt stranger to want them to suffer, especially when they were the people that she loved the most in the entire world.

God, she felt like an asshole.

"I read them, and I replied," Amber told him, pressing herself flush against his chest. She clung to him like a Koala would to its tree, compelling him to pull her closer. And he did with great pleasure, the colours in his eyes flickering with honeyed specks of gold. "I told them that I loved them, and that I'm fine. I'd have been back in a couple of hours if they didn't insist that we stay here."

She pointed it out as if it were their fault and not hers. It was easy to point her fingers and push the responsibility on the other. It was easier to drown her thoughts in everything but confrontation.

"You needed to relax." Casper brushed his lips over the lobe of her ear. The bristling child in her went quiet as his kisses smothered the flames of her irritation. "And I'm not your one-night stand, love. We're not going to fuck and then go back to our daily lives like nothing happened."

"Please, now that I know the feeling of that thing on my tongue," Amber teased, pressing her knee against his groin and her soulmate groaned. The sound was a dream, like mouth-watering sugar and filthy cream. It distracted her, and she relished the distraction. It was liquid against the parch sandpaper of her dehydrated tongue. "I don't think I can pretend nothing ever happened."

"That thing?" he chuckled, fingers fondling over her skin tickling her sides and she giggled her knee shaking against the thick swollen hardness of his arousal. His answering groan was smooth and husky, frying her insides and lighting her up on fire. "You just had it in you, and you want to go again?"

"We're having a fuckathon," she whispered, creating the word. It sent a jolt of excitement through her. It'll be slow and heavy, long, good, delicious strokes that would send her far away from reality. Her cheeks were burning with heat. "And we're not at the finishing line yet Casp."

"I'll give you whatever you want love, but I'm not going to let you run from your problems with your soulmates."

His words sent her jolting upwards with a frown, a pillow tossed against his chest in childish frustration. Hadn't he gotten the memo that she didn't want to deal with her problems just yet?

"I know you replied to the ones they sent you that night, but not the rest."

"You've got to be kidding me." She gave him a look, annoyance creeping through her chest. "What do you want me to do? Write an essay on our vacation? Text someone else while you're railing me into this bed?"

"The text you sent wasn't enough to free them from mental torture."

"I was sweet," her lips curled, a vindictive sneer revealing, molten unfurling. "I wrote 300 words. I spent an hour editing those words."

"Sure, you did, but you sent the same message to all six." Casper's voice was a warm gentle timbre that rumbled velvety against her skin. Despite his words, there was no accusation in his tone. "It hurts them to see that."

Casper's hands moved over her skin, his long fingers massaging the knots in her flesh. God, she wanted more, wanted him to touch her until her body was no longer starved from love. She wanted him to fuck her until she forgot her name. And also, her problems.

"They were personal messages," she said, a coldness drifting through her heart. "They weren't meant to be shared.

"They know," Casper replied, "but they couldn't keep it to themselves, they needed support from each other. Of course, they'll share." Amber blew out a low breath, the sigh escaped her as she flopped back into his warm, big arms. He continued to speak, holding her close. "You don't have to do it, but it's been a day and they're worried. They've been hounding me about it."

"Are they jealous of you?"

"They wanted to know your mental state. How you're feeling, what I think they should do..." He glanced at her. "Maybe a little jealous because I got to reconcile with you properly. And you're here in my arms."

"So you're the messenger."

"Of course, I won't tell them what you don't want me to tell them, but I want to know how you're feeling," he murmured against her hair. "Not because I want to tell them, but because I'm concerned." She licked her lips, letting out a soft hum then sighed.

"I did it on purpose. Copying and pasting the texts. I knew they'd dissect each word, and they wouldn't be able to figure out whether or not I used polite speech because I hated them or because I was just being serious. They'd find out together that the words are the same, then they'll panic."

The rant began and it continued, flowing from her lips like a waterfall.

"I know MinJae's crying right now. I know Sieon's sobbing just as much. Hikaru's probably going through the boxes of tissue paper like its fucking tissue paper—I don't even know what I'm saying, it is tissue paper. But fuck. The rest of the boys they're flipping the fuck out as they care for Rumiko. It's probably taking them everything not to come right here to this room and ensure that I'm not mad. And Ezra's the only one holding them together. And I'm doing this because..." She rubbed her temples, agitation filling.

"Because you're still mad?"

"Because I don't want them to think I'm going to forgive them all the time when they make mistakes!" The words left her lips snappy and more than just irritated. "I don't want to be the fucking pushover. For them to think that just because they're the majority, they don't have to listen to what I have to say. Because as my soulmates, as my partners—fuck—the fathers to my daughter they should have listened to me! The sole primary caregiver for our daughter after your week long concert. "

The anger bellowed, still hot in her belly after simmering there for days and now her chest was on fire. Whether she liked it or not there was a sense of male domination in their household.

Amber was surrounded by men that were older and supposedly wiser than her. With their camaraderie from years of working together, the power dynamics between her and her soulmates just couldn't be as equal as she'd like it to be. And that scared her because if it continued this way, they'd get used to not listening to her.

And how could their relationship work if they didn't listen to what she had to say?

"You know what?" She continued. "I'm not going to forgive them for every single mistake they make. And one day I might never will. I'd rather be happy than stay in a toxic relationship that makes me feel like fucking shit. We can co-parent Rumiko it's not a problem to me, occasionally hold hands for the soul bond. Who knows, you know?"

She shrugged, shaking as she spoke. The idea was far-fetched but honestly? There were soulmates out there who were divorced couples. And they could still stay friends if it truly escalated to that degree. But there was no way Amber was putting them over her happiness and mental wellbeing. It just didn't make sense to her to be happy that way.

"They need to know that this? This was way too much. I can't keep giving them excuses. Your bad days at work. I have them too at home. We can't compare them equally but it's not fair for me to blame things like exhaustion, emotions, I don't know—God—first impressions?"

She laughed, shaking her head.

"I wanted to try to be understanding, I really did. But they don't mean shit if they didn't assess the situation first after talking to me! Maybe even sleeping on it first before they blew the fuck up and jumped to every bad conclusion in the world?"

She scoffed as she continued.

"There's just no respect for me at all. I don't know maybe I'm the problem. Should I even be there when all of you are in a bad mood, but you've already gotten over it together? If works get exhilarating for you. I'll become the side piece that you don't want to see because it's just so chaotic and I'm a loveless wreck with Rumiko, so I'm mad that they didn't even try to get it." She inhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Mad enough to want to see them understand how serious this is for me. How fucked up this can become because in my life with that crazy 24/7 baby. All of you are my only source of normalcy and happiness, and I can't have that breaking. "

She took a swig from the cup of water after that, cooling the heat that fired in her belly from rage. Casper was awfully silent at her words; a shallow shaky inhale had her eyes drifting to his. He was quiet as he watched her, his eyes way too deep of a blue to be happy. Her expression crumbled, still a sucker for her men.

"Too much? I was just venting you know that right—"

The smile from him was weak, and his eyes lingered briefly on her left hand to the promise ring and then back to the ceiling.

"No, you're right." He rolled over; his palm placed over his eyes. "We—I was wrong. I took you for granted, didn't respect you the way you deserved to be respected. There's no reason why you'd stay in a place that doesn't give you what you deserve." His voice was tinged with sadness, and the sour flow of unshed tears. It made her chest ache, and she gently pushed his palm away from his face, feeling guilty for ripping at his wounds.

"These are just unfiltered crass thoughts from my head. Don't take them too seriously—"

"I should take them seriously, if I want to be a good husband to you. The husband you deserve." He kissed her knuckles, his voice sounded far away. "You don't owe us any forgiveness, it's not your responsibility to be with us just because you have to. It's not your duty to just because of the colours of our eyes or the patterns on our skin."

"Are you convincing me to leave your sexy ass?" she laughed but he didn't smile, and she squeezed his cheeks, unable to help herself. "Stop being melodramatic. I'm just mad. You can't get rid of me that easily. And we'll get through this. I'll send them a voice message and end their suffering."

"No love," he took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I'm sorry and I promise I'll work on it. If you see me stepping out of line which should definitely not happen. But please just—You can slap me if you want to?" He stuttered those words out, trying to search for a good punishment. "You can leave my ass?"

"I'll whip your ass, let's see how you like being a chained sub."

She ignored his last comment, choosing to swerve past it as if those words didn't exist. The idea was there, planted like a bad seed in their farm. But there was no reason for her to wave it in his face like a constant reminder of all his mistakes, and there was no reason for her to grow and nourish that idea. Because before it got to that point, she'd bend her back to try to fix their issues and give them all the chances in the world. She loved them more than anything in the world.

"Love... Your eyes are sparkling."

She groaned, snuggling against his skin, grateful for his presence as she basked in the glow of his soul. "Honestly? I'm here in your arms and I can't stop thinking about Rumiko."

"She'll be fine with them—"

"I know but the doctor opened a whole new can of worms that I didn't notice until now. She could be in a lot of pain." She sat up; brows furrowed. "We need a specialist if the medicine doesn't work"

"We'll do that, take her to a few different places for more opinions on the matter." He paused, brows furrowing. "We can go to a paediatrician to check too. I'll book an appointment for tomorrow." He was already on it, his hands moving to take his phone on the counter almost dropping it on his face when he raised it

"I think she might be scared," Amber mumbled. "Maybe she's just scared of this new change. It's cold and bright and confusing, nothing like that warm 24/7 spa in my dark, cosy womb. I think, she's scared of living as much as I'm scared of being a mom."

Her lips spread, a smile blossoming.

"Maybe she's just like me."

*

"We're all out of diapers, I'm surprised you didn't get any from the supermarket," Oliver said, a tick pulsing in his brow.

Amber stared at the offending jolt of muscle, scrutinized the jump and dip of its meaning. But its presence only brought her a greater sense of dread. It filled her chest and ballooned further until shivers ran down the length of her spine and something ate and burned at the hollow of her belly.

She felt sick.

Oliver's face was expressive; they couldn't seem to hide anything, and sometimes they portrayed more than they should. They usually didn't depict what he truly felt, and it could simply be an over-exaggeration of his thoughts.

In the past, the words inked on his skin had been Amber's key to his inner world.

A pouty lip was merely a flicker of disappointment instead of full-blown sadness. A moment of shocked outrage was nothing more than a dance of surprise. A bored expression was just the by-product of his mind fixated upon the weariness of having to go to work in an hour, instead of being able to stay by her side and listen to her talk for hours.

Usually, it was all good things, things that made her smile.

It was their thing. The tattoos and the signs, but they disappeared on their own after Rumiko's birth. The verses on his skin became lines. The sentences into words. The words into alphabets. And then nothing. The visual silence was unnerving, a brick wall between their thoughts.

It wasn't just him, it was everyone. MinJae's flowers. Hikaru's gold. Ezra's shimmer. Casper's eyes. Sieon's flower ring. JieMi's bunny like need to fuck. Like an old married couple, the spark dwindled with time, vanished the moment the fruit of their love entered their lives.

Oliver'd mentioned in passing that he couldn't read her words too. His frenzy in the pitch of his voice had been muffled to her ears. She couldn't hear him clearly, and she didn't take the time to really dwell on the consequences of a silent bond. She didn't care, not with the sea of responsibility and the weariness that clouded her vision.

She didn't have the time to give a damn.

Oliver had desperately wanted it fixed; he wanted a day out together. He wanted to talk about it, cherish their souls and allow it to heal. He wanted them to fix it, her and her soulmates. But she just didn't have the time and she told him that, rejected him enough to turn it into a habit.

It would be another task in her never-ending workload; a new emotional burden that she couldn't deal with as the new CEO, manager and only worker in their household. There would be better days, she'd promised. Rumiko would stop screaming, they would be home for much longer and then they could work it out.

It was a mistake, they should have solved it the moment their soul bonds started to die. They shouldn't have slept on it. They shouldn't have allowed it to continue as if it were normal. She should have tried to fix it. But she was just so damn overworked.

She shuddered at the thought, guts twisting and turning with a bitter tinge. It wasn't that bad when her boys were home. Her soulmates were the better guys, and they were a big group which made things a lot easier for everyone.

They weren't the anti-feminist types. The men that would relax on the sofa as she cleaned, cooked and hustled.

Her soulmates were considered gems in the real world. They made dinner, vacuumed, and massaged her swollen feet. They tried to give her as much sleep as they could, and Rumiko was their duty instead of hers when they were at home.

They did all the chores just so she could rest even when they were bone tired and sleeping on their feet. She'd seen them doze off one too many times while waiting for the wash, seen them sleep with Rumiko in their arms. They were just as tired as she was, but they gave her the time to stay in her safe spot: that one corner in the house where it was all quiet, and Rumiko's cries were non-existent.

But with eight people working on the household chores, it didn't seem just as much to them as it was to her. And when they left her alone with the demonic baby, flew miles away to a foreign country for a concert, the bulk of the domestic and childcare work was all hers to complete.

It was difficult despite the extra outside help, so much harder in a foreign country with no one familiar by her side. She tried to call her mother, tried to talk to her friends. Miri visited sometimes, and it was fun to have someone to complain to about her crazy child.

But it was not enough.

Right now, Oliver's annoyance was flooding his features, a scowl poisoning his handsome face. And she didn't know if he meant it, or if it was just his face and her inability to read his mind. Immediately, Amber felt the need to defend herself and her mouth opened as she tried to speak but failed to.

Her voice seemed lodged deep in her throat.

"Amber," JieMi whined, interrupting them both with a pout on his lower lip, "there's nothing in the fridge. I'm not going to be able to cook...I told you we were going to be late. Didn't you get the text? I wanted to barbeque pork belly"

His pout would be cute if she didn't know how irritated he actually was. Behind the calm disapproval was a fire of rage that he tried his best to stifle for her. He wasn't happy about this, and he would snap at her if she weren't his soulmate. His eyes were filled with tension, and she could see the hard edge of throat-cutting stone within those bottomless depths.

He should be mad; she did promise to get him meat before they got home. He'd been looking forward to it and he reminded her hours before their arrival. He'd asked if he should be the one to get it before they got home from the airport. She said she could do it. God, of course, they had the right to be frustrated.

It was normal to be angry after a long day of looking forward to going home, only to return to a sad, stressed soulmate, a screaming baby, a barely cleaned apartment, nothing in the fridge and no diapers to keep said baby clean.

She was a wreck.

But what they didn't know was that she was pulled at the seams, so close to exploding into smithereens that she could probably cry on command. The only thing holding her together was her need for sleep, and the possibilities of sleep that night. She'd give anything for the day to just end, probably sell her hair just to have an undisturbed shower without the child latched to her nipple.

How easy it would be for Rumiko to slip from her arms and fall to the ground.

Amber inhaled then exhaled slowly to keep her feelings in check. She didn't want to deal with an emotional outburst right now. She didn't want to be responsible for the guilt that would infect her soulmates right after.

She didn't want to have the long overdue talk that they would have over the screams of their daughter. No, she couldn't tell them the truth of what she was feeling, not with an upcoming concert which was just two days away.

They were leaving tomorrow anyway so what good would a talk do if they were going to leave her right after? She preferred keeping them in the dark, preferred them happy and healthy.

They didn't need to know how sad she was feeling.

It had been an absolute disaster that morning, her expression crumbled at the thought. She'd sobbed her eyes raw because she'd dropped her phone on their daughters face while trying to text them. The text had been important she needed them to approve the new cleaning company that would be coming over that day.

The cleaners that they'd hired previously were too rude, and way too mean for her liking. Maybe Amber was being paranoid, perhaps she was just over analysing their racist small talk and maybe she was just on the edge from Rumiko's screams. But fuck that cleaning company, fuck those bitches who assumed she couldn't speak their language.

She didn't want unfriendly strangers in her home, and she wouldn't keep up with it just to be nice.

What she didn't know was that there were cancellation fees and paperwork, and it wasn't easy finding a different company that could satisfy their security needs. Her soulmates had directed her to staff in charge of security. But they weren't cooperative at all and took ages to reply.

She was way too tired to explain to her soulmates how terrible the previous cleaners had been to her and their daughter. Or how much she needed to have the apartment cleaned that day because it was ruined from days of chaos, featuring screaming babies, spilt milk and nappies.

It seemed that the world was out to get her.

So, they'd cried together, mother and daughter, for a solid hour she'd sobbed with her baby until Rumiko fell sleep, worn out from the session. But sleep wouldn't come to Amber all morning, and she'd wondered whether a phone to the face was a good enough reason to visit the Emergency Room.

She'd spent the rest of her time in bed, checking her daughter's face for bruising and monitoring her breathing. Another hour was wasted as she searched the net for answers. Rumiko was up the moment she turned off her phone to rest for a minute or two with a god-awful shriek.

Rumiko should be fine since she was screaming like normal.

But the day only got worse, a delivery package with her daughter's new winter clothes in the wrong size, overdue bills that she had to pay that day. There was a problem with getting the new cleaning service in through security because they failed prior inspection.

Apparently, she'd been scammed and the cleaning company was just a ruse.

There was also a baby to feed, clean, rock to sleep and entertain. Little things like watering the plants, texting her soulmates, taking supplements, catching the cockroach that flew into the house.

A lamp exploded so she fixed that, then cleaned cat sick at the door, made some side dishes for her dinner because her soulmates were going to be really late—all she had that day was just three boiled eggs. The single egg she had for lunch tasted bad, so she puked all over herself. Some of it got on the baby.

The baby was mad.

The workload was a never ending to do list that piled up in her tiny overly exhausted brain.

She'd been the one to clean the mess with her baby strapped to her back. She was way too afraid to let her soulmates see the environment that Rumiko spent her days in, so she'd wasted another hour vacuuming, mopping and just sanitizing the space.

They'd be mad, condescending even, pretty damn angry at her for being a slob. God, who wouldn't be a slob with so much to do? So of course, she totally forgot about ordering groceries and diapers by the time they got back at midnight. And of course, she was a mess without a single wink of sleep and hadn't gotten anything done because there just wasn't enough time.

Was there still puke on her shirt? Maybe.

Fuck. The tears came too easily, blurring her vision as she blinked them back desperately. She'd been so proud of herself for getting everything in her list done, only to discover later when they arrived that there was more, she didn't do. It sucked. It sucked a lot and it made her want to collapse onto the floor and pass out.

"Totally forgot about it," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, not wanting to look at their faces. She didn't think about stocking up the fridge because in the first place, she didn't even have time to eat more of her boiled eggs. Were there ten? She forgot.

Her stomach churned, pain rippling forth.

"It's just delivery, Amber. I can't order it for you without knowing how much you've used—" Sieon had chimed in. He wasn't irritated, but the frustration in his voice seemed tenfold to her exhausted brain. And he was right she did seem useless compared to the other mothers in the world.

God, how did her day end so quickly without her doing anything? The work she'd done seemed invisible, and its value vanished the moment they were completed. The little things that shouldn't keep her preoccupied for too long seemed to eat at her 24hours even when she didn't sleep.

"Do we have to get a weekly subscription for everything?" MinJae asked, legs propped up on the sofa.

He deserved his rest; his muscles were aching. But her heart pricked at the sight of it, mad at how relaxed he seemed. His hair was now devoid of the flowers that once symbolised their love.

There were barely any now, nothing in the empty vases that lingered in the hallways. Her body began its production of the meaningless tears that would overflow if they pushed her just enough.

She was going to cry over fucking diapers.

"I'll run to the store now," Ezra offered with a yawn, scratching his head. "I'm sure we can get some it's diapers for heavens sake—"

"The store's close at this time..." JieMi murmured, cooing at their daughter as he rocked her in his arms. The little monster had screamed all day and was now finally quiet. Amber couldn't help the mental sneer. Of course, she was a good girl only when her fathers were home. Of course, she was. "The convenience store doesn't have any her size, I just checked."

Those words might be a jab at her, it might not, but it did feel like it.

"We can do cloth diapers for now," Hikaru suggested, turning to look at her. "Do you know where they are?"

Her heart fell, ice filling her veins as she pondered on how to break the news to him that even cloth would be difficult. He was going to be disappointed once again because the cloth they could use was in the basket of dirty clothes. She'd have to clean them, and then dry them. Her body curled; arms wrapped around herself.

Her daughter would have to be naked that night, bare-ass and pissing all over the place. It would be another evening of disappointment in the eyes of her soulmates. Fuck. How did she go from fulfilling her dreams and career ambitions with the loves of her life, to one so goddamn domestic and filled with failure?

"I'm sorry," she'd said, her voice oddly calm, and yet she continued to chew on her lips. "I didn't get the chance to do the wash."

"What?" Ezra gaped at her, blinking widely. His eye twitched, then he let out a low sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. She knew it was his tactic to not get mad. He had a short temper and he tried to control it as much as he could with her.

But even that look, the blown-out breath of displeasure made her want to cry. Her bottom lip trembled, and Casper seemed to finally notice. He patted her back, rubbing it gently as he tried to keep things light with cheer in his voice.

"I'll get takeout, it's fine, love. There's always something to eat—"

"Who sells food at 3AM on a holiday?" Sieon groaned out with a sulk.

"Shut up, Eon, don't be an ass." Hikaru warned.

Rumiko began to cry again, and Amber moved instinctively to take her from JieMi. Somehow having her baby in her arms made her feel better. It gave her something to do instead of having to face their disapproving eyes.

Rumiko seemed to be the lesser evil but the truth was this house. This entire place...It was toxic. Her insides began to melt, poison corroding her heart as despair clouded her eyes. She was lost in the storm, alone despite her seven, and sorrow sunk its teeth within her chest and refused to let go.

She was a horrible mother.

And a terrible future wife.

Maybe...maybe, she shouldn't be here at all.

"Amber..." MinJae turned to look at her, his beautiful eyes growing wider. Her breath hitched, no longer entranced by his beauty but afraid. It seemed like a dream ago when he would kiss her on the lip and tease her for begging to cum. "Why are there bruises on Rumiko's face?" Her heart leapt, body going so cold that she was frozen in space. Their eyes were her jail cell, accusing as they prodded her with their questions.

Did you hurt her?

Did she hurt herself?

Why couldn't you protect her?

Why aren't you a better mother?

"What? But I checked—" her eyes moved to the baby in her arms. She didn't know why she hadn't seen it, but there was a purpling bruise on Rumiko's face. Amber's lips parted, her breath coming out in quick shallow pants. Her fingers danced across the injury; purple turned to a pale-yellow hue.

How did she not see it? Was she that blind?

Her mind flew over the events of the day but even that was now a blur, her head was throbbing hard with a migraine. Rumiko had been in a bad mood all day. There was nowhere to escape in the surge of her own anxiety filled thoughts, the turmoil of her stress, and the wretched screams of her daughter.

Now it seemed that Amber could no longer see her daughter's pain.

"I've got too much to do at home when I'm all alone with the baby," she told Casper. He was drying her hair with a towel, combing it gently as he ran kisses over her hair. She smiled when he made a loud smacking sound with each smooch. His sweetness warmed her heart, and her soul seemed to coo. "Rumiko's already a full-time job, that little monster."

"She's our cute little demon," Casper groaned, tease in the lilt of his voice and she laughed.

"The little things to do, they all add up and I can barely complete them. On my bad days—or should I say Rumi's bad days— I can't even deal with groceries or online shopping. I try to keep our household functioning, but seriously? I've just got no time at all."

"You skip your meals, don't you?" His words made her turn over to look at him from her seat. He seemed sombre, brows knotted and lips downturned. His eyes were faraway, deep in his memories.

"How did you know?" She raised a brow. His lips quirked, a sad smile forming.

"You've lost so much weight, you're almost skin and bones." He rubbed her sides, pinching the skin of her belly. She giggled but his smile didn't grow, sorrow still dripping from his eyes. "Do you remember that night when you forgot the pork belly?"

"Yeah?" she scoffed, shaking her head. She didn't want to think about it, it made her chest ache and her heart stammer within her body. "It was a stupid mistake. I should have set an alarm. It was a fuck up day. I'd delete it if I could."

"The only thing we found in the fridge that night were your boiled eggs." She bit her lips, feeling a little sheepish. "They'd gone bad, but you still ate them."

"Huh? I ate three—"

"Some were half-eaten..."

"I don't even know what happened on that day. I swear I was possessed." She tried to wave it off with a grin. "Are you learning to be a detective, Casp?"

"You can't just eat five boiled rotten eggs and call it dinner, love." His voice was a soft gentle timbre, and his eyes grew warm with love as he looked at her, stroking her hair. "Even if the eggs were fine, it's not healthy for you. It's not enough."

"It made me full," she shrugged, "and it was an easy fix. Pop two eggs and I'm good for the entire day—"

"That's not healthy, baby, you'll get sick."

"As I said," Amber gave him a look, "I don't have time to be healthy. But I take my supplements and I try to eat when I can. I eat when Rumiko's not crying, and she's always crying. I don't have time to make food."

"We know, which is why we started making you frozen meals. It wasn't just our apology for making you sad. It was because we're worried and you're losing weight like you're a k-pop star on a chicken breast diet."

"I'm losing weight much quicker than MinJae on his diet?"

"That's right, it's looking dangerous love. Every time we leave and get back, another inch of you to love is gone which is why we started making those frozen meals for you."

"It was a really good apology. Best thing I ate in days," she smacked her lips, already tasting marinated chicken on her tongue, "I love it when the seven of you cook together for me. It makes me feel like a princess." Like she was loved.

Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes grew misty with memory. She'd cried herself to sleep that night and had woken up to strangely cold sheets. With no soulmate sleeping by her side and with his arms around her, she'd feared the worst.

But despite being jetlagged and absolutely exhausted from work, the seven had spent the entire night cooking side dishes and homemade frozen meals. That morning she'd eaten food fit for a king. The vegetables had been cut into hearts and on her fried chicken they'd spelled out the words: I love you, thank you for working so hard for us.

She'd shed a tear or two while kissing them goodbye as they rushed to work with heavy eyebags but big smiles, influenced by her happiness.

"I don't like it." Casper murmured; his eyes flickered with ultramarine. The prints he left on her skin, luminescent and shimmery were just as deep blue.

"You don't like cooking?" She snorted; a smile danced across her face. MinJae had told her that he'd managed to set off an oil fire while frying the eggs. He'd screamed, quietly because he couldn't wake her and the baby.

"No, I don't like how we're feasting on good food after a concert, miles away, and you're either eating nothing or you're just eating eggs." He took her hand, rubbing it between large warm palms. "You've got to tell me about what you need to get done. You could forward your emails to me. I'll reply to them for you, the bills, everything. Share your burden with me."

She blew out a breath, turning to look at him. "You—" her expression softened. "You do a lot for me Casper. All of you do, it's just it's different having you here by my side versus far away in a foreign country. You can't fix my light bulbs or catch the bugs in our house."

"I could call someone," he reassured her. "There's no service money can't buy."

"You can't fix the toilet if it's choked up with shit."

"Just more people to call. Finding a plumber is much easier than a bug catcher."

"It's different Casp, I can't just make you call someone all the time," she shook her head, "they're all simple household problems. Buying lights, cooking my own meals, the little chores that I must do. They take up my time. And with Rumiko being my 24/7, sometimes I just can't do it all. And all you see is the mess I've made instead of the things I've done."

"I'm sorry, baby." He blew out a low breath, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. "I'm really, really sorry. This was so unplanned. God, I wish we had paternity leave. I wish we could stay home until things were better."

"I wish things were different." Amber sighed, her voice growing choked as she buried her head in his chest. "I wish I were stronger, but it doesn't matter because I have to go home and take care of her." She smiled through dewy tears. "I'm going to be alone with Rumiko again when your holiday ends in a couple more weeks. It sucks but that's just life."

*

Casper

She apologised many, many times.

The words flowed from her lips, liquid and bountiful; when repeated, perhaps they seemed to lose their significance. But Casper could read the truth in her eyes, could see that her confessions were sincere. And each word of regret from her was a dagger to her chest—a mother's bleeding love.

Her guilt paralyzed her within her own head—the web of regret and horror seemed to hold her in a crumbling tower that could not stand. She didn't believe that her soulmates could forgive her, and so she didn't forgive herself.

She couldn't; her own thoughts were her greatest enemy. Those words that cycled in her head—a broken record— were barbed and painted with her own blood; the self-abuse was cluttered in her head. He tried to pull her free but to no avail.

Each second in his arms, she was assaulted by thoughts she believed she deserved.

Tortured, she would rouse mid-sleep to sit at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. She didn't sleep when she said she would, spent hours in bed until the sun rose above the horizon and the birds began to sing.

Somehow, she could comfort him, could accept his apologies, make him feel better about how he'd treated her. She could smile and tell him that if she were in his position she would do the same thing.

And yet she couldn't counsel herself, couldn't accept her own guidance.

When his arms weren't wrapped around her thinner, smaller frame trying to coax her to sleep, she was furiously searching for answers on the computer. He'd seen the questions, brief glimpses of the screen before she snapped it shut, cheeks burning with shame.

I hate my baby, what should I do? I am unable to cope with motherhood. What the fuck did I get myself into?

His knowledge of the truth, of her situation didn't seem to help her. Instead, it weakened her, turned him against her without his knowledge. And whenever his eyes moved to her frame she seemed to quake, hyper-aware of her own mistakes.

Her thoughts were cruel.

She believed he was judging her, weighing her rights and wrongs, reading her mind. She was a lab rat in his hands, waiting to be killed. But all Casper wanted to do was hold her close and cry. All he wanted to do was fix her, help her, love her.

While he made love to her, she fucked him.

Limp, and ragdoll-like, she allowed herself to be used, pushed herself more than she should, prioritized his pleasure over her own.She tried to laugh it all off, tried to bury herself in his physical affection so that she couldn't remember her own feelings. So that the thoughts, intrusive and plague-like wouldn't stay festering in her head forever.

His lover was sad.

Behind the crude sexual humour and her jest, was a mountain of sorrow that he couldn't vanquish. There was traces of it in the day, sadness that she easily hid with the mundane routine of surviving.

At night, it was like a beacon in a lighthouse. She tried to hide it, made him suffer, swallowed around his sinfully aching cock, drew out his pleasure until he was screaming far more than just her name. His climax was teeming with his lonely, vulnerable love that he longed to fill her with but couldn't.

Because in her eyes, he did not see the gold he was accustomed to before Rumiko's birth. It was always, always blue. Cross-eyed, rolled back, teary, warm and wet with laughter, they were always a watery dark blue.

Blue.

The colour of oceans, seas and rain. A storm that brewed in her head, the violation of her soul. Colour so dark it was almost black.

When the colours first started to go, they flickered between sweet hazel to that dark, murky blue. He'd stared, hoping that it meant things were better between them. But even when they returned in full force, her soul bond to him had stayed the same shade of angry Prussian.

It remained that same defying colour, taunting him, mocking him.

He wondered if they needed time to heal, to change, to become more than just that sad, depressing blue. He wanted to see rose when she was angry. Cotton candy pink when she was in love. Green when she was envious. Purple when she was proud. Yellow when she was so goddamn happy.

The sweet, delicious gold when she was his and his alone.

Maybe, he was the broken one, maybe he wasn't working hard enough. And he tried to be her remedy, tried to nurse her back to health. Seven days was never enough, how could it be? But he tried despite the chills that sent goosebumps over his skin, the dizzying nausea of knowing. The pitiful rasp of his soul, whispering the truth to him like a devil perched upon his shoulder.

He knew.

Her hands on his were blue. She painted him in the colour, her prints on his skin, her kisses on his face. Now that they were naked and together, groin to groin, chest to chest, he could see nothing but the blue that called his name.

She'd asked what was wrong, but he'd shook his head, answered her with an excuse. He was too choked on his emotions to reply properly, to let go of the truth. The lump of bile deep within grew bigger as the blue engulfed his vision.

Blue.

It wasn't the colour of faraway mountains, of morning sky, of hyacinths and windflowers. Her blue was the colour of roaring storms, crashing waves, the pale blood-less colour on corpses, the shade of frost chilled dying petals, shadows and tears.

His nose pinched, pain molten as it unfurled and brought dampness to his eyes.

What's wrong? She'd said, her eyes growing wider and he swallowed down the nausea as he looked at the horrifying sea of blue.

Us, he wanted to say. We're dying, wasting away like the couples that have spent years without communicating. The couples that scream and hurt each other. The couples that hate and don't love. The ones that separate when their children are grown. The ones that leave when nothing else ties them together.

Oh, Rumiko would get better. She'll grow and she'll be loved but would we ever heal? Would you ever forget? Things will change, and the poison will stay within you.

His thoughts pulsed, growing bigger as he held her tighter. The blue seemed to speak, its voice thudded in his head a migraine that blinded him.

You stay with me now because you have to. Because you have a child; because you are my soulmate and we're practically married in the eyes of everyone. You stay with me now because you've given up so much to be here, and you don't want to know that it was all to let me go. You stay with me now because at first you wanted to be whole, but now you're a prisoner.

His mind overflowed working through the nightmare.

You stay awake because you're realising that everything was just a toxic fucking situation. Some of your soulmates may be anti-feminist mommy-boys that would put their blood family over you. Their used to seeing women clean and cook, used to seeing women raise children, used to seeing their fathers recline on the sofa. It's a woman's job to stay at home. We try to change, of course we do, but is it ever enough?

His thoughts grew bitter. The blue chuckled.

They would listen to their parents first. They would listen to each other, their best friends over you. You've realised that you aren't as close to us as you thought you were. And you realised that maybe you didn't know them as much as you thought you did.

You wonder why you hadn't seen how the age gaps, the huge male-dominated reverse harem, the seven best friends, the celebrity pride, the money, the fame, all of it—You wonder why you didn't know it would get to their heads. Are you then just another piece of the cycle of their life?

They waited so long for you, of course they did. They waited so long that they wondered if they were broken, if they were being punished, if they weren't normal. You were a jigsaw puzzle that they'd forced in place to complete the perfection. A method to become a normal family in society, you would ensure that they wouldn't die old and alone with no one.

You were just a tool blinded by 'love'—

Baby, her voice drew him out of the blue and he looked at her, looked at her properly. And his heart thudded, speeding up as it warmed his body for her beauty. His lips trembled. Was this then just a biological chemical reaction meant to coax him into—You're overusing your big brain.

Her words made him pause in his analysis and he smiled, or he tried to. Am I?

I love you, she whispered and his heart flew. Love you so much it hurts. She nuzzled into his chest, kissing the area above his heart and his thoughts disappeared as if they were never there.

He ignored the truth from his soul bond, chose to believe what he wanted to believe. But now he realised that the colours had always been working. That there was nothing wrong with them, that her soul wasn't bleeding. The colours were telling him loud and clear: the truth.

She was miserable.

He'd work her through her orgasm, teased her with his lips, his hands. She came loudly when he pinned her down and fucked her, then emptied himself outside of her. Ejaculating in her should never be an option, and it was odd that she didn't care about the percentages and the chances. That she didn't give a damn about pregnancy.

Of course, she cared, copper IUD or not.

It was his fault for not thinking. All his fault that she had to eat the morning after pills later. His fault that she was consumed by another worry, as she paced in the bathroom. She didn't know he could see her shadow moving, anxious and frightened. He'd ripped open the door, holding her close but she assured him again that she was fine.

Are you really?

He'd been blinded by her beauty in bed, and he was motivated with the need to try to change the shade of blue into something else. Anything. Something other than that horrendous shade of blue. Something gold, it would turn off the thoughts. It would change the narrative.

But in the morning, he felt the bones of her skin. While her breast remained full with milk, her body was no longer lined with healthy fat and meat. He watched her eat, he made her eat. He stared until she finished her food, then didn't comment on it when she excused herself to the bathroom.

He fidgeted the longer she spent in there, the routine too repetitive to be normal. He wondered if she spat out her food, the thought scared him. It scared him so much it made his guts churn. He'd lurked outside the toilet listening for the sounds of puke. He kissed her after to taste her.

Then stopped himself, shaken by his actions.

She was right. He was becoming a detective, a bad one, and maybe it was all just in his head. Maybe, this was all just his mind and the blue, the goddamn blue that seemed to speak to him. As expected, Amber noticed his anxiety—a knowing twitch of her left eye when she caught him outside the door. She left the door open the next day.

He realised later that she was trying to keep the food all in, not out.

She truly only ate eggs when they were away, and her stomach and appetite had shrunk. It was now difficult for her to eat normal amounts. He'd paced the room thinking about how many times she'd really ordered groceries; thinking about how there was always food in the fridge when they got back.

They would find food days away from expiry, food that they'd purchased for her a month ago. She'd laughed, kissed them like it was fine. I'm doing the supermarket a great service, was what she'd used to say.

Lies.

When she sent those polite, clinical texts to her other soulmates that she called essays. He sent his own thesis and papers to them, messages that were so long and so angry that it turned them all quiet with shame. They should be ashame, they should be feel like fucking shit.

With his bestfriends and the roar of stardom, he couldn't see her pain. But with her by his side, in his arms, he saw everything.

Loneliness, she was forlorn in his arms. She clung to him, her hands fisted in his shirt; her body over his. She smiled the brightest when he was the deepest in her. And she held him, legs around his waist not really because she wanted him to give her another child.

But because she wanted to feel something.

Exhaustion, she wouldn't leave the bed, stayed burrowed in the sheets until he coaxed her out of it. She stayed asleep even when she didn't want to or need to. She wanted to be asleep.

Fear, she didn't touch her phone, didn't want to text the others. She tried to avoid it because she didn't want to face them, couldn't face them.

Anxiety. She stayed awake when she shouldn't be, paced the room, couldn't eat, couldn't sleep.

Sadness.

Depression?

He tried to hide his realisation, bury his face in her hair when he wanted to cry. This wasn't what he imagined would become of their love. No, a child, a child was everything he wanted, bathed in warmth and sweet, love. The picture had been perfect, it had been sweet. He'd been given what he wanted, but not what she needed.

It was their fault.

The answer to their problem was simple, so simple that it was law in some places, non-existent in the backward parts of the world.

He figured it out quickly when he texted the boys.

They'd been agitated and afraid. The entire situation signified a possible fissure in their relationship. The younger ones were terrified that her rendezvous with Casper would lead to favouritism. They all believed that Casper was now closer to her than the rest of them, and the structure of their once fair, healthy love life seemed to be collapsing.

They didn't understand that they'd ruined it with their own hands.

Family over dreams.

Casper couldn't give his family up, run away from responsibilities, ignore what others needed. No, not anymore. What was the point of reaching stardom, when the love of his life was buried deep in reality and pain? What was the damn point of dreams if it meant sacrificing the most precious being in his world?

He was the happiest when Amber was happy.

It meant that someone in the group needed to take a break, someone needed to be put on a hiatus. Someone needed to stay behind with her. Someone had to stop going on tours, stop performing in shows. Someone needed to take paternity leave and be by her side

It was stupid for them to put the concert, their jobs over her. It was so fucking stupid that Casper couldn't believe they tried to just because hundreds of 'customers' were depending on them. Honestly, who cares if their fans were disappointed that they couldn't see the full team? Who cares if their popularity might go down the drain.

Amber was more important.

She was very good at pretending everything was okay. She was very good at hiding her problems behind humour and laidback shrugs. Amber had always told him that she'd live, and it'd be fine. She said things like: I understand, and it's okay. That she was just tired, the baby was just monstrous, that they were just new time parents.

Fucking hell.

She was his soulmate and yet he was blind to her pain. Casper would quit IDOL even if it meant never singing on stage ever again. Not only because he had to, but because he wanted to and he needed to.

He needed to change the blue into gold once again. He needed to change their love story before it was all too late.

Sieon

They were gone for a whole month.

Fuck, he lied. The truth was they were only gone for a week and a half. Seven days at first, then nine because MinJae insisted Amber took her holiday seriously. What she needed was nine glorious days of 15 hours of sleep, good food and her back blown out by Casper every night. He exhaled, lips bitten raw, a new habbit he'd learnt in the seven days.

They were having raw sex.

Condom-less, like naked dick in naked pussy kind of raw, unprotected, teenagers without brains kind of fucking. Like warm wet pussy on hot hard dick, and Casper's dick was thick and big and goddamn sexy. Maybe, sexier than his dick with its piercings and shiny little balls like a fucking christmas tree on steroids.

The amount of jealousy that had raged through Sieon's exhausted head had been enough for him to nearly project his soul into Casper's body. He could if he thought hard enough, maybe he would consider piercing his dick just to fight the guy.

Sure, she'd gotten an IUD and the others had timidly questioned Casper's decision to test the capacities of that little metal stick. It wasn't a miracle worker, considering Casper's no doubt potent cum. They'd risked it once with protection, and somehow Amber had still gotten pregnant.

How could they risk it all again?

Sieon had been ridiculously impressed at first by their ability to beat protection. Sure he'd been horrified but he was also pretty damn proud just because it seemed to be fate. But now maybe—well, honestly?—not so much. He couldn't seem to understand how the Sieon of the past used to work because that wasn't a thing to be fucking happy about goddamn! It should have been a cause of concern, he should have been terrified as fuck!

Sieon was truly seeing the negative impacts of unplanned pregnancy. While he had been taking care of Rumiko in the past—he wasn't a dick—It was just so damn different to care for Rumiko alone by himself. It was harder with anxiety screaming in his mind and a baby screaming in his arms at the same time—

He ignored those thoughts, choosing to stray to saner pastures (it was easier being mad at Casper).

Their soulmate was careful enough with spermicide and plan Bs. That and Casper had pointed out—like the saged leader of the team he was—that based on Sieon's descriptions of their soul dreams, and the age gaps of their children that it was likely that the next kid would not be Casper's.

It was supposed to be his twins.

His darling little angels with his smiles, children who didn't seem just as demonic as JieMi's evil spawn. They better not be because this kid was giving him second thoughts about bringing them into this world. He glanced at the baby and her scrunched up angry face. God, he hated calling his little girl, his darling firstborn, the spawn of a devil but she was—pardon his fucking language—a tiny bitch.

A bigger bitch than her biological father, JieMi and that was a huge feat.

Christ, he could complain for hours. He really could if he tried, but it was selfish to say it all out loud with everyone so goddamn depressed from the entire situation so he'd kept it all in his head. He screamed again in his head, while he gave his baby a big fat smile, trying to convince Rumiko to stop crying.

The sleep deprivation, so normal in his line of work, was ten times worse with the screams. And Rumiko seemed so intent to be fussy, it appeared to be her job to make their lives worst. She splattered piss, crap and puke all over his face, and screamed all the time. How her bodily fluids had gotten into his mouth he didn't know, but he could still taste its disgusting bitterness on his tongue—

He ignored it, pushed the thought deep into himself and pulled at the sexy thoughts, begging for their reappearance.

Those thoughts were still just as depressing. The truth was even if he ignored the possibilities of abortion, as long as Sieon did not make love to his soulmate, and as long as Sieon did not implant their adorable, cherubic twins into her vagina, Amber could have stress free sex with the rest of them.

It meant that Sieon should be theoretically on her number one avoid list. Because who the fuck would want twins after this single catastrophic child?

It also meant that unlike Casper, or Hikaru, or Ezra, or JieMi or MinJae, or Oliver, or Casp—He'd gone over Casper already—Sieon inhaled and exhaled, ear plugs clearly not working despite being lodged so deep in his head he was sure it was touchin his fleshy brain—It meant that-His expression crumpled, face twisting into one filled with despair.

It made sense for her to ignore him. It really did make sense for her to be so clinical in text, snipped and polite like a damn prostate cancer doctor, prodding up his ass with two gloved fingers. Sure, she'd sent it to everyone in the family, but surely she meant it all just for him.

The, How are you? Was really a fuck you.

And the I'll be home soon, was a I don't want to see your fucking face when I get back.

And the I love you, was probably a, I kind of hate your ass now.

I just need some time=Leave me alone, don't impregnate me with Satan multiplied by two.

Rumiko squawked, angry, and he shushed her, kissing her spit drenched cheeks. He really didn't mean to call her Satan in his head. It was just a figure of speech. He was just really tired, he really truly didn't mean anything he was thinking. He just wanted his soulmate to love him—

His eyes burned, growing watery as his vision grew blurred.

No kisses, no love, no sexy time, no sex, no baby. It was easy. So easy that it would mean—he choked, sniffed as his nose burned—no more demons in the family. No more speed bumps in their family, no more sad soulmate, sad best friends, sad Sieon. He glared at Rumiko, gaze flickered to the child in his arms that they all now understood to be fussy because of pain, and also terribly colic.

More colic than he thought she was, Amber was right, they underestimated the kid.

He deflated, his thoughts spiralling backwards. Why was he mad at a baby? He sat down heavily and her screams grew another pitch higher. He stood up, shaking as he bounced for her. Had he eaten yet? Would Rumiko let him eat? Ignoring the baby in his arms, he continued walking like a goddamn zombie that had lost its brain.

And it'd been only one day.

One fucking day. Twenty four hours with Rumiko, alone and Amber had been doing it for weeks. How weak could he be? How lousy was Sieon at babysitting their own child? How insensitive had Sieon been to her? He couldn't remember. His tears began to drip down his cheeks and he smiled through them.

He'd debated with JieMi over the possibilites that during Rumiko's time in Amber's womb their rabbit like fucking had disturbed her so much that the concept of sleep just didn't exist in her being. He glanced at her tearfully. How had she been so quiet and good in Amber's womb but so loud and explosive outside of it?

Amber was right about her demonic abilites of taking up all twenty four hours of their time and desperately begging to be heard through the thin walls of their home. Self-soothing was something they never expected to do, with a speaker blasting out white noise and in a room as dark as they could get it. They'd swaddled the child like their lives depended on it and then sat outside listening to her screams, finally realising exactly what Amber had been doing.

She'd been trying to stay sane.

Of course, it made them realise that they were bastards to Amber, pieces of shit that didn't deserve her. Some had paced, biting nails and lips, trying their best to leave her alone. The ones that wanted to sleep because they'd already tried everything—that was Sieon—had slammed a pillow to his ears and begged for mercy.

It was torture, and they wanted themselves to be tortured because—the tears began to flow from Sieon's eyes again—they wanted to know what it was like to be in Amber's shoes. They wanted to know how bad it was for her.

They couldn't really, of course, they had each other and they hadn't done this long term. And they still had each other while she didn't.

It seemed masochistic but they thought it would make sense if each of them spent the day alone with the baby, just like how Amber would when they were on tour. They'd help each other clean because she had some help with the cleaning, but that was it. They could call each other in case of emergencies but they were determined to experience in order to understand.

And in just one day Sieon was already dying. He could make excuses, tell himself that it was also because he was worried his future wife—he began to sob as Rumiko cried in his arms—didn't seem to like the idea of becoming his wife. And he was now black listed from sex because his dick could shoot sperm that would give them all another two demons in the family.

"I'm sorry baby," he cried out loud through her screams, "I know Papa's bad for thinking you're a demon." He shushed her, trying his best to check for what was wrong. "How about we play a game where you try to convince me that you're a little angel? Wouldn't that be so much more fun than crying all the time? God, what's wrong baby? You've taken your medicines, you're dry, you're—"

She burped, and a waterfall of half digested milk spurted from her lips and on his face. He stood in stunned silence as she hiccuped and fussed, then let out an earth shaking wail which he mirrored. He sobbed as she cried, and they battled as they both screamed. He didn't deserve to cry, but he wished he wasn't such a fucking dick to Amber because he might not be able to take those words back.

Fuck him. 

A/N: Read 20+ chapters ahead on Patreon: patreon.com/tinyeyecat