A Bias Wreck

The hotel path curves along the coastline, the morning breeze soft and salty against his skin, but there’s this heaviness sitting quietly over everything now. The kind that settles in once something beautiful is about to end. Or maybe not end. Change. But that sounds scarier somehow.

Felix keeps his hand in yours the entire walk down to the farewell brunch. When the two of you step into the restaurant, a server comes with a tray of mimosas. He takes two flutes and hands one to you. The other couple is arriving not long after, filtering in through different entrances with sleepy smiles and sunglasses perched on noses and the glow of the vacation clinging to their faces.

However, Felix also notices the slightly subdued mood hanging over the room. Nobody wants to say it out loud, but this is it. It’s the last, last moment before everyone stepping back into reality. The last moment before jobs and phones and responsibilities and outside opinions. The last moment before things become real in an entirely different way.

Felix pulls your chair out for you first before taking the seat beside you, immediately draping an arm along the back of your chair. His thumb absentmindedly rubs your shoulder while everyone else is still settling into their seats.

Rob leans back in his seat first, glancing around the table. “So… how’s everyone feeling about vacation ending and going back home?”

“I’m ready for it,” Shane answers almost immediately with a wide grin. “I’ve loved this entire experience, but I kind of want to see if everything works in the real world too.”

Across the table, Sonya smiles softly into her drink. “I feel torn. I want to stay here forever, but I’m also excited to introduce everyone back home to Rob.”

Rob practically melts beside her, not hesitating to give Sonya a quick peck on the lips.

Then Jim cuts in, brushing his hair to the back before putting on a hat over it. “It’s weird how everyone feels so familiar already.”

Morgan snorts beside him. “That’s because we all dated each other.”

The entire table bursts into laughter.

Felix laughs too, head dipping slightly as he squeezes your shoulder closer into his side.

Then Morgan points directly at you. “What about you, honeymoon couple?”

You immediately smile, already fighting laughter. “To be frank, I’m not ready to share Felix yet. I don’t know if I ever will.”

Felix’s entire face lights up so fast it almost hurts his cheeks.

You continue, jokingly dramatic, “I might just stay here and keep him with me forever.”

Felix is hit with a severe cuteness aggression. He doesn’t stop himself from leaning in, placing a big kiss on your cheek.

You laugh in amusement, shoulders scrunching as the rest of the table erupts into teasing noises.

“She’s right though,” Felix says easily, pulling you even closer. “I don’t mind staying here forever.”

Your smile softens at that and for a second, everything feels suspended again, warm and safe until the two hosts arrive.

The entire table straightens when they stand at the end of the table, putting on an elegant stance and politely look at everyone.

“Good morning, everyone!” The male host begins with a bright smile. “Hope you've enjoyed your romantic getaway.”

You shift on your seat, body slightly facing the two hosts now and Felix drops his arm around your waist now as he steals another quick kiss on your temple.

“In this blind love experiment, you guys chose each other. You fell in love, and then you got engaged to the person who is now your fiancé before ever seeing one another,” the female host continues, smiling just as brightly. “You've had an amazing opportunity here to begin to grow your emotional connection into a physical one.”

“I'm guessing some of you had more fun with that than others,” the male host teases while running his eyes at the faces around the table.

There’s a wave of guilty laughter, everyone exchanging knowing glances and smiling secretly to each other. On the other hand, Felix gently rests his chin on your shoulder, catching you holding your laughter in. And yeah, the two of you feel called out by that. But no guilt whatsoever.

The male host clasps his hands together in front of him. “Now it's time for you to leave this paradise and start building your lives together,” he pauses for a dramatic effect before. “Each of you will move into a new home. A neutral space for you guys to deepen your relationships. But it's important that you continue to support each other when you go back home.”

The female host takes over by further share the rest of the announcement. “Each couple is going to be moving into the same complex.”

It takes Felix a moment to process it but the male host emphasizes it as he looks at everyone, hands gesturing toward the table as he announces, “Meet your new neighbors!”

The table erupts in all kinds of responses, but mostly in surprise.

Felix bursts out laughing as Jim cracks a joke about feeling sorry to whoever lives next to him because it’s going to be a little noisy at night.

“Oh, this is going to be messy,” Shane mutters, already entertained.

Felix glances at you, smiling when he sees your amused expression.

The light, playfully atmosphere evaporates in a second when the female host turns a little serious before she speaks. “Your wedding are three weeks away,” she announces, there’s a firmness in the edge of her voice.

Felix instantly feels the way your body stiffens beside him for a fraction but it’s enough for him to notice, enough for him to immediately start rubbing slow, soothing circles against your arm.

“In the pods, you guys all built an amazing foundation. And if you make it through these tests,” she pauses to fix the strand of hair caught in her glossy lips from the sea breeze. “Your marriage is going to move forward on extremely solid ground. We're giving you the absolute best chance for lifetime success. But will you allow opinion of family and friends, the allure of other people, the distractions of social media to sabotage your wedding? Your happiness?”

The whole table seem to hold its breath as the two hosts taking turns talking about how the rest of the show is going to be with an edge to their voice that it suddenly feels like a high-stake gambling instead of a dating show. 

“This is all part of the experiment,” the male host seamlessly takes over. “Will you judge one another for your looks, your age, your family or your circumstance? Will any of that really matter?”

His angular face turns tense as he firmly asks, “Or love will be enough? Is who you are on the inside enough? Are you enough?”

Felix asks himself those questions in his head. He has no doubts about you and he senses the same conviction in you, but no one truly knows what you exactly you feel inside or that your heart will remain rooted. He nervously scratches his neck, feeling his pulse under the skin.

“Ultimately,” the female host effortlessly manage to raise the tension even more. “In front of your family and friends, you're going to decide will you say ‘I do’ to the person you chose sight unseen? Or are you going to walk away from them forever?”

Firmer, she asks the one big question, “Is love blind?”

Felix gently holds your waist because all of a sudden, he feels like you’re about to slip away. But you’re there, placing your hand on his and loosely lacing your fingers together.

The male host breaks some of the tension with an encouraging smile and says, “We hope that you prove it is.”

The hosts finally come to the end of the announcement, smiles tugging at their lips now.  “Everyone, we wish you a safe trip back home and good luck on your wedding plans!”

With that, the two hosts step away, leaving everyone to enjoy the brunch. Conversation slowly starts up again around the table, but Felix barely hears any of it because he’s looking at you.

You stare down at your drink for a moment too long, clearly thinking. Overthinking, more like.

His thumb brushes softly against your arm again until you finally look at him. The second your eyes meet, Felix gives you the gentlest smile he can manage. “It’ll be great,” he murmurs quietly.

Words don’t seem sufficient, so he leans in and kisses you softly. Slow enough for you to feel it. Long enough for you to breathe again.

And when he pulls away, a smile slowly blooms on your face.

“How about a toast? Everyone?” Jim suggests, already raising his glass of mimosa in the air.

Everyone doesn’t respond but follow suit, getting their drinks to the center of the table and clinking their glasses together, toasting for what they’ve survived and for what’s coming their way.

-

FELIX: I think everyone’s just… really in their heads right now. Because this is the scary part, yeah? Back there, in the pods and on vacation, it’s easy to focus only on each other. But now real life is coming. I think some people are thinking too hard already instead of just embracing what they feel. I don’t know about other couples but… [softly smiles] I know what we have. I’m sure we’re making it to that ‘I do.’

-

The hotel suite feels strange already with your suitcase lying open on the bed like the room already knows you’re leaving.

You’re folding clothes with slower, almost reluctant movements, your fingers lingering over fabrics before placing them neatly inside the suitcase. Outside the balcony doors, the ocean still glimmers under the afternoon sun, beautiful and cruel for continuing like nothing’s changing.

You don’t want to leave. Not really. Because once this ends, reality starts. No more waking up tangled in Felix’s arms with nowhere else to be. No more endless hours together with no phones, no work, no distractions pulling at either of you. Just you and him. Only you and him. And maybe that’s why your chest feels heavier with every piece of clothing you fold.

The room stays mostly quiet except for the rustling of fabrics and the occasional sound of zippers. You know Felix notices it from the way he keeps glancing at you while packing his own suitcase but he doesn’t force you to talk or explain yourself. He understands and just lets you feel it. And that makes you love him more.

Once he finishes packing, he straightens from beside his suitcase and looks over at you.

“Need help, baby?”

“Actually, yeah,” you answer as you glance up at him and manage a soft smile. “Can                                                                                                                                                                                                 you please grab my makeup bag from the bathroom?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He crosses the room immediately, pressing a quick kiss against your shoulder as he passes behind you. It’s such a small thing yet it melts something in you anyway.

You continue folding another sweater while he disappears into the bathroom, and a moment later he returns holding your makeup bag triumphantly in one hand.

“Need help with anything else?” he offers.

You laugh softly. “No, thank you.”

He hands it to you before settling himself on the edge of the bed beside your suitcase, naturally picking up one of your shirts and beginning to fold it neatly on his lap. Silence settles between the two of you for another moment before the thought slips out of you before you can stop it.

“Once we go home…” you start quietly, fingers pausing over one of your dresses, “we’re not going to get to spend this much time together anymore.”

Felix looks up immediately, a little confused by what you said.

You rush to explain before the sadness settles too deeply in your voice. “I mean—we still can. Obviously.” You let out a small chuckle. “I just…”

Your shoulders lift slightly. “I’m going to miss this. This ‘just us’ thing.”

He nods slowly as he smooths his hand over the folded jacket before placing it carefully into your suitcase. “We’ll still have that.”

You look at him then and see the certainty in his eyes, the calm smile he gives you like he genuinely believes every word he says and somehow… you do too.

He reaches over and helps you zip the suitcase shut before lifting it off the bed effortlessly and wheeling it toward the door. Then he turns back to you.

“Ready?”

You immediately shake your head while laughing under your breath. “No.”

Felix smiles softly at that and walks back toward you until he’s standing right in front of you.

Then he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing the inside of your wrist. “Let’s just take it step by step.”

He leans in and kisses you gently. When he pulls away, he softly adds, “Together.”

And then he kisses you again.

Your heart aches so badly from how loved you feel that all you can do is smile brightly against his lips. A little emotional. A little nervous. But excited too.

Eventually, the two of you grab your suitcases and drag them behind you toward the door. You take one last look around the suite, reminiscing moments the two of you shared in this very room and then take Felix’s hand in yours.

And together, the two of you leave the hotel suite.

-

YOU: I’m sad that we’re leaving. [pouts] [laughs] I’m still nervous about going back home, obviously. But I think I’m more excited now. And also, curious. I really want to see what our life looks like outside of all this. [smiles]

-

From the airport, all of the couples get into a minibus. Everyone looks tired in that specific way that comes after too much traveling and too many emotions at once. Some couples lean against each other sleepily while others stare out the windows at the city slowly returning around them.

Reality. It’s here now.

Felix sits beside you with one arm stretched comfortably around your shoulders while your head rests against him. Every now and then, he glances down at you just to check on you. You always catch him doing it too and every time, you smile a little.

By the time the minibus finally pulls into the apartment complex, the sun is already beginning to set, painting everything in warm orange light. Everyone slowly piles out with luggage and tired excitement while production staff hand them back their devices and keys to their shared apartment.

Felix takes both of the larger suitcases immediately before you can even reach for one.

“I can carry one,” you protest automatically.

“It’s okay. I’ll do it,” he easily says with a smile.

You insist on carrying his backpack for him in return and he lets you.

The two of you eventually make your way to 8th floor and walk down the hallway together until you stop in front of your shared apartment door. You stand there fumbling slightly with the keys before finally getting the right one, and right before unlocking the door, you glance over your shoulder at him with the brightest grin on your face.

“Ready?”

With hands still holding Felix immediately smiles back. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Your grin somehow widens even more and then you turn the handle and push the door open.

The apartment lights are already turned on, revealing a clean, modern space with wide windows, soft lighting, and just enough room to actually feel like a home instead of a temporary setup.

You keep the door open while Felix wheels both suitcases inside and then the two of you just… Look at each other and simultaneously let out low excited noises.

“Oh my god,” you lowly gasp, excitement overriding your exhaustion for at least a moment.

“This is nice,” Felix says, eyes sweeping around the room.

The kitchen catches his attention first. Bright countertops. A proper stove. Enough counter space.

“Oh, this kitchen is sexy,” he blurts out absentmindedly.

You laugh loudly from somewhere near the living room. “Did you just call the kitchen sexy?”

“Yes.”

“Whatever,” you shrug nonchalantly. “I’m sexier.”

He grins at that but you suddenly grab his hand and tug him toward the bedroom instead.

The second you push the door open, the two of you linger on the doorway, just looking at the sight of the plush, neatly made bed, comfortable and inviting.

The two of you exchange a knowing glance and Felix notices your expression change mischievously before you place both hands against his chest, gently pushing him backward toward the living room.

“Let’s eat first,” you insist through laughter. “I’m starving.”

Felix lets himself be pushed willingly. “Fine.”

A little while later, takeout containers are spread across the dining table while the two of you quietly eat side by side. Neither of you talks much at first. The exhaustion from the flight and the long travel day settles heavily now that everything’s finally still again.

Felix watches you sip your water before you glance around the apartment thoughtfully.

“I like it,” you murmur with your eyes scanning the space. “I think I like it more because it’s new and clean though. Everything’s still tidy.”

That makes Felix snorts and look at you curiously. “Are you a very organized person?”

You chuckle like you’re guilty. “I just don’t like clutter.”

Felix nods slowly while chewing his food and honestly, he already knows that about you from the way you packed your suitcase.

You look at him, narrowing your eyes playfully at him. “Are we going to have problems?”

He quickly swallows first before answering. “I think I’m pretty organized.”

You nod approvingly at that. “You are a chef after all.”

Exactly. Cleanliness basically comes with the profession. Then Felix points his chopsticks at you slightly. “But how organized are we talking here?”

You laugh in guilt again before leaning back in your chair. “I hope it’s nothing you can’t handle.”

That answer does not reassure him at all. Felix slowly grabs his soda can and lifts it without drinking yet. “Depends,” he carefully says, a teasing smile tugging at his small lips. “Are you going to make me unpack my suitcase tonight?”

You burst into laughter immediately. “No. We don’t have to unpack tonight.”

Felix visibly relaxes. “Then we won’t have any problems,” he easily concludes and finally takes a sip of his soda.

You laugh at that and the sound fills the apartment so warmly that Felix already feels at home.

-

FELIX:That’s the point of living together, right? We’re going to learn a lot about each other. Learning each other’s habits, routines, little quirks and figuring out how to balance all of that together. I think that part is important, yeah? Hopefully without me getting yelled at for leaving my suitcase unpacked for too long. [laughs]

-

The apartment already feels lived in somehow. Not because the suitcases are still sitting by the hallway or because there are half-empty takeout containers spread across the dining table, but because Felix is in it. Because his laugh keeps bouncing off the walls. Because every few seconds, he reaches for you without even thinking about it.

You finish the last bite of your dinner while he gathers the containers and tosses them into the bin. You join him there, leaning your elbows against the counter while watching him move around the kitchen like he belongs there already.

Felix opens a bottle of wine next, pouring the crimson liquid carefully into two glasses before handing one to you. “To our new place,” he says with a warm smile.

“To our new place,” you softly echo, gently clinking your glass against his.

The wine barely touches your tongue before Felix suddenly reaches for his phone, aims the camera at you and—

Click.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Taking pictures of my beautiful fiancé,” he simply answers.

Your heart aches in the softest way at that, like it hasn’t fully sink in yet that you are indeed his fiancé.

He candidly snaps another photo of you sitting on the kitchen stool, wine glass in hand, hair slightly messy from the long day. You lift the glass to cover half your face. “Stop—”

Click.

“Felix!”

Click.

He is absolutely shameless about it too, grinning behind his phone while taking more pictures anyway.

“You look cute,” he says casually, like that explains everything.

“No,” you groan in disagreement. “My hair is a mess from hours of flight.”

Felix keeps laughing to himself and then places a gentle hand on your waist, “Come, babe. Let’s take one together.”

Your annoyance melts almost immediately at his sweet coaxing. “Okay.”

You slide off the stool and stand beside him while Felix stretches his arm out with the phone. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side and you smile instinctively at the contact.

The first few photos are of you and Felix smiling to the camera, making cute and silly faces next. At one point, the photos become blurry because Felix starts laughing halfway through.

And for the last one, you turn your face toward him just as he looks down at you and the kiss happens naturally. But it still leaves warmth blooming across your cheeks when he lowers the phone.

Felix scrolls through the photos with the fondest smile you’ve ever seen. “These are cute,” he murmurs.

You sip your wine again to hide your own smile.

Felix glances up from his phone and carefully asks, “Do you mind if I call my mom?”

“No, you can’t call your mom,” you say, feigning seriousness but it only lasts a few second before you break into soft laughter.

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as he dials the number. “I’ve never gone this long without calling her.”

Your heart melts a little at that as you stay perched on the stool quietly while he waits for the call to connect.

The second his mother picks up, his entire face lights up like sunlight spilling through curtains. “Mum,” he says warmly.

You can faintly hear her voice through the phone, asking Felix the kind of questions mother would to her son. “Are you okay? Have you been eating properly? Are you taking care of yourself?”

Your chest aches unexpectedly at how soft they sound together, how affection dripping in the way they talk to each other.

Felix leans against the counter while talking to her, smiling the entire time. He tells her bits and pieces about the trip. About the apartment. About finally being back home. And then—

“Yeah, I’m here with her right now.”

Your stomach flips instantly as he mentions you, his hand holding yours on the counter.

Felix glances toward you with a smile before suddenly putting the call on speaker. “She’s great,” he says as he looks at you.

Then he adds, completely serious, “She said she makes good omelets and I knew I had to marry her.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You cover your mouth to muffle your laughter while glaring at him.

Felix only grins harder and on the phone, his mother laughs warmly. “That sounds about right.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper under your breath while Felix chuckles proudly.

“She’s right here,” he tells his mother before looking at you. “Say hi.”

You suddenly feel shy for absolutely no reason. Still, you lean slightly toward the phone. “Hi,” you sheepishly say.

His mother’s voice turns immediately gentle. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

“I’m doing great,” you answer politely.

“And?” she asks teasingly. “Did you find your dream man?”

You glance at Felix and he is already staring at you. You softly laugh before answering, “I hope so.”

His mother laughs warmly at that while Felix’s grin turns almost unbearably smug. “We’ll visit you guys soon,” he tells her.

“Oh, we can’t wait to see you.”

The conversation continues for another minute before Felix finally says, “We just got back, so I think we’re going to rest now.”

“Well then, you’d better some sleep then,” his mother says fondly.

“Love you, mom”

“I love you, son.”

And listening in on their phone call, suddenly you understand exactly where Felix gets his gentleness from.

The call ends shortly after. Felix sets his phone down before turning toward you again.

You’re still staring at him, softly and fondly. You don’t stop when he notices it.

“So…” you mutter, a little too seductively than you planned. “What’s next?”

Instead of answering, he takes both wine glasses from your hands and places them onto the counter. Then before you can even process it, he scoops you up into his arms.

A startled squeal leaves you immediately as your arms fling around his shoulders, clinging to him.

He laughs while carrying you toward the bedroom and pushes the door open with his shoulder. You’re still laughing when he drops the two of you onto the mattress, the bed bouncing underneath your bodies.

Felix immediately hovers above you, blond hair falling into his eyes slightly as he looks down at you with pure affection and mischief tangled together. Then he mutters very seriously, “It’s time to break this bed.”

You burst into laughter and you’re still laughing when he leans down then kisses you.

“And bless the place with our hot and passionate love,” he murmurs.

You laugh harder against his mouth, fingers curling into his shirt as he crashes his lips on yours again. This time, a little deeper, hungrier, stealing all of the air in your lungs. You gasp when he lets go but it’s only to bury his mouth in your neck, kissing you there.

“Mmh, baby…” you softly moan and the sound echoing in the shared space.

-

YOU: The honeymoon might be over… [mischievously smiles] But I think the honeymoon phase is still very much happening.

-

The steering wheel creaks softly beneath his grip as he drives, sunlight flickering through the windshield. Beside him, you're comfortably settled in the passenger seat, absentmindedly playing with the engagement ring on your finger. The sight makes his chest warm, but unfortunately, it doesn't do much for the nerves currently eating him alive.

You eventually turn your head, looking at him, looking at him long enough that he’s sure you notice something on him. Then your hand reaches for the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there.

“Babe, you’re nervous,” you say, not a question, just a fact.

Felix glances over and lets out a laugh despite himself. "You can tell?"

“Yes. Unclench your jaw, please!” you say with a low chuckle, hand moving there to gently cup his jaw.

A few seconds later he finally sighs. “Maybe, I am. A little.”

That earns a snort from you. You lean in to his side, eyes narrowing with suspicion glinting in them. “Why? Do you have something to hide?”

Felix pokes his cheek with his tongue and points dramatically. "You're about to find out I don't."

"That only makes it suspicious."

"You're suspicious."

You laugh at that and affectionately cupping his chin with your hand before slowly letting go as he makes a turn into his neighborhood.

The houses become more familiar now and Felix unconsciously slows the car. A minute later he pulls into the driveway. He notices the way you look at the front of his house.

“I think it’s cute,” you comment with a smile tugging at your smile.

“Yeah?” Felix asks, nerves declining by three percent at that.

You look at him with a brighter smile. “Yeah.”

Before you can reach for the door handle, he's already getting out and opening the door for you. He's holding out a hand to help you step out of the car and you take it without hesitation, your fingers slide into his.

Together you walk up the short path toward the front porch. The keys jingle in his hand as he takes it out of his jeans pocket. He glances over his shoulder, finding you looking around with open curiosity.

With that, Felix unlocks the front door and then steps aside. "After you."

You flash him a smile before stepping in and take slow steps further inside.

Felix has never been this aware of his own house before. But now, every little thing suddenly feels important. He follows closely behind and notices that a few of his things are not where they belong — his gym bag resting on top of the shoe cabinet, jacket lying on the sofa, the door to the laundry room is open, exposing the laundry spilling out of the dryer. He grimaces at the sight of it and can only hope that you don’t see it.

Then you stop there, in the middle of the living room and turn around to look at him. “You actually have furniture,” you say, gesturing dramatically around the living room.

The audacity. Felix dramatically gasps at that. "I’ll try not to be offended."

You chuckle at that before leaning in, placing a quick kiss on his cheek as an apology. Then you point toward the kitchen. "I thought you slept in there, cuddling with your pans and skillets.”

Felix doubles down. “What?”

“You know, like a kitchen goblin,” you say.

The living room receives only a brief inspection before your eyes find the staircase. “I can safely assume your bedroom is upstairs,” you say, eyebrow quirking up in mischief.

"You want to see the bedroom?”

"Maybe."

He snorts and then leads the way upstairs. The nerves are still there, but it’s manageable now because every reaction so far has been good. Or at least entertaining.

Felix inhales air as he turns the knob and pushes the door open to his most personal space — his bedroom.

You step in and take your time to look around the space. You glance at his bed and then nod once. “You made the bed. That’s good.”

The judgment in your voice is devastating yet he laughs anyway. "The bar is that low, huh?"

You nod without hesitation and then disappear into the bathroom next to do further inspection.

Felix doesn’t have to worry about that so instead of following you, he grabs a backpack from his closer and starts gathering a few things to pack for him to bring to the shared apartment — notebook, chargers, a few more clothes. By the time he starts folding everything together, you join him in the closet.

"So many hoodies," you comment, hand grabbing the sleeve of the hanged clothing.

Felix doesn't even look up. "Yeah."

A second later, he hears the clinking of hanger and when he turns, you're holding the oversized black hoodie. One of his favorites of all things.

"Can I borrow this?"

"Yeah,” he answers without a beat.

You grin at that. “Do you know that 'Borrow' means I'm claiming it forever.”

Felix grins widely. "That's fine."

"Really?"

He zips the backpack shut and then looks directly at you. "What's mine is yours, remember?”

The smile that spreads across your face is soft and bright. Dangerously cute. You clutch the hoodie dramatically against your chest.

"No takebacks."

"No takebacks,” he repeats, leaning down and presses a quick kiss against your temple.

Once he made sure he packed everything he needs, the two of you head out of the bedroom only for Felix to stop again when he sees the door to his study room.

“Oh, I need to get my laptop too."

You follow him into the smaller room at the end of the hall and the second you step inside, Felix realizes something too late because your eyes immediately land on the gaming setup.

You slowly turn toward him. “So… you’re into gaming?”

Felix already knows where this is going. “Yeah…” he drags the word a little before he adds a little more certainly, "Maybe a little."

"A little?" Your eyebrows rise and then glance at the three monitors, the keyboard, the headset and gaming chair. Then look back at him.

"Okay, okay,” he says, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Maybe more than a little."

"Thought so,” you cheekily say with a sly, victorious smile.

He leans against the desk. "This is how I unwind."

You nod and casually drop into the gaming chair. One of the stress balls immediately catches your attention. You pick it up and squeeze it in your hand.

"Are you good at it?"

Felix scoffs even though the question is harmless at all. "I’m pretty great."

You lean back on his gaming chair and squeeze the stress ball again. "Then why do you have a tray full of stress balls?"

"Gaming can be stressful.”

You stare at him and then break into laughter. The sound fills the room instantly. "How do you unwind if gaming stresses you out too?"

Felix points at the setup. "More gaming."

Your laughter grows louder and the look on your face says everything. The skepticism is a little brutal.

He shrugs. "It works, you know."

You don’t say anything to that and he finds it a little unsettling. Because he can’t tell if you find his gaming habit a good or a bad thing. Or neither?

Felix decides not to overthink it and jokingly says, "I should bring the setup to our apartment."

Your head snaps up, eyes immediately find his. "Don't you dare."

The horrified glare you're giving him is priceless and Felix nearly falls off laughing.

“Felix!” you call with a scolding tone.

“I’m kidding,” he assures you but his hand reaching for the portable game console on the desk.

And somehow, you only watch as he puts it into his bag and he takes it that you have no problems with his gaming.

-

FELIX: Showing somebody your personal space is weird. It's one thing for someone to know you emotionally. It's another thing for them to see how you actually live. I didn't want her to walk in and suddenly think less of me because of my furniture choices or my gaming setup. [softly laughs] But I think… I think it went really well. [smiles]

-

The second you and Felix make it downstairs, you drift toward the kitchen like you've lived in his house for years. Or at least like you've earned visitation rights. You open his fridge, inspecting it like you’re searching for clues and he quietly laughs behind you.

"What are you looking for?"

"I don't know."

You inspect the contents anyway, looking at the ridiculous amount of ingredients and various sauces. Several containers neatly labeled. Everything arranged with the kind of organization only a chef would maintain.

You take something wrapped in a clear Ziploc bag. “What’s this?”

Felix calmly answers, “It’s vanilla sticks.”

“Oh?!” you lowly gasp, slightly intrigued. You rip open just enough to take a sniff of the vanilla scent. “Isn’t it expensive?”

“Yeah. You’re holding $400 worth of it,” he answers with a sly grin.

Your eyes widen at that and slowly putting the plastic bag into the fridge, looking the slightest bit horrified.

Felix laughs at that but it slowly dies down the second he watches you move toward the pantry next. You pull open the door and then—

"Oh my God."

He reaches you in two long strides. "What happened?" he innocently asks.

You stare at the shelves and point at the stack of boxes. "Why do you have boxes of snacks and drinks?"

Felix presses his lips together, holding himself back from laughing. He follows the way your eyes glancing at the boxes stacked neatly against one wall. Another stack beside it. And another. And another.

You point dramatically toward the opened box, exposing the canned drinks inside. "Do you like this that much? Or was it on sale?"

The look you give him makes him unable to contain his laughter anymore. After a while, he finally admits, "When I like something, I buy it in bulk."

You stare at him for a second then look at the shelves again. Then back at him. “Okay… Yeah, I can see that."

His laughter fills the pantry. He grabs two can of the sparkling juice and hands on to you. “It’s good,” he says, his tone reassuring.

You pop it open and take a sip. You nod once and take another sip. "Oh, yeah. It’s good."

Felix beams immediately. "Right?"

“I understand completely.”

He looks at you and carefully asks, “Should we bring a box of them to the apartment?"

“Yeah, definitely,” you answer without hesitation.

A little while later, you're walking back toward the car. Felix has a cardboard box tucked an arm and another balanced against his hip. Meanwhile you've somehow ended up carrying his backpack for him.

Together, you put everything to the back of the car before driving to your place next. you navigate the way there and when Felix turns into your neighborhood, his gaze shifts toward the houses.

“It's quiet.”

“I like quiet,” you say with a smile, leaning back into your seat. "I'm very protective of my peace."

Felix nods thoughtfully. “I can tell.”

The closer you get, the more nerves begin creeping into your stomach. Because your home is small and simple, but very much yours. And you suddenly are aware that someone else is about to see it. Someone who matters to you.

The car eventually stops at the side of the streets and you take a breath, then another. Felix notices but says nothing, he just waits and patiently follows you as you lead the way to your house. You try not to think much as you unlock the front door and push it open, stepping in to keep the door open for him.

For a second, he just looks around, taking everything in. The warm lighting. The plants. The carefully chosen furniture. The neatly organized shelves. The little touches that make the space feel like home. His smile grows and grows until he finally looks at you.

“This is exactly what I imagined.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says while nodding and gesturing around. “It’s warm and cozy.”

You narrow your eyes and Felix only smiles. Then he glances around again before adding, "It's also so tidy that I'm scared to touch anything."

You can’t help but laugh at that.

His gaze sweeps over a shelf. "I feel like if I move one thing, you'll know."

Your laughter continues but then, all of a sudden, something orange launches itself across the room.

Felix nearly jumps out of his skin. "What was that?!"

You scoop up the culprit before he can make a second attack. The orange tabby meows indignantly. “This is Gnocchi,” you announce proudly.

Felix places a hand over his heart. “Gnocchi tried to kill me.”

“He was saying hello,” you playfully answer, then your eyes narrow for a fraction. “Are you allergic to cats?”

“No.”

You nod in approval. “That earns you extra ten points.”

"Only ten?"

"Don't get greedy."

The cat decides he's done being held. You barely have time to react before Gnocchi launches himself free and lands dramatically on the sofa. Felix watches him settle in and then offers his hand. Or rather, his knuckles. Allowing the cat to investigate. Gnocchi gives him approximately two seconds of attention before completely ignoring him.

"Wow," Felix flatly says in rather disbelief.

“Uh-oh, you’ve been rejected," you teasingly say.

Felix only nods in defeat and calmly says, “That’s okay. We still have time to get to know each other.”

The tour doesn't take long as there’s only so much space to cover. But Felix seems genuinely interested in every room and reacts accordingly. And for the last one, you take him to your little studio where you design your handmade jewelleries.

Felix lingers on the doorway for a moment, just taking it in. His eyes scanning around in quiet awe, glancing at the mood boards pinned carefully on the wall, containers full of charms and beads and chains. And the tools that is organized into its place in a wooden shelf.

For some reason, this moment makes you weirdly emotional because this room feels the most personal to you. A part of yourself most people never see. But Felix looks at it like it's the most interesting thing in the world. Eventually you move toward a tray and pick up a bracelet, one of the design samples you made.

"Here. Wear this,” you say, unclasping the chain to put it on for him.

He doesn’t say anything but holding his hand out at you. “You made it yourself?” he curiously asks.

"Yeah,” you answer with a smile as you fasten it around him before letting it go and watch how the bracelet settles around his dainty wrist.

He lifts his wrist and examines it, turning it slightly beneath the light. Then he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes. “I love it.”

Your chest warms at that. “I’m glad,” you answer with a bright smile.

His gaze lifts, softly gazing into your eyes. "Thank you."

Before you can respond, he leans down and kisses you on the lips, softly and slowly. When he pulls away, he's still smiling.

“I’ll cherish it forever,” he mutters earnestly.

And when you look at the bracelet again it looks exactly right on him like it belongs there. Like he does.

-

YOU: I'm kind of a loner. [sheepishly laughs] I don't invite people over very often. Actually, I almost never do. Having your own space becomes part of your identity after a while. Especially when you're used to being on your own. And having Felix there… [softly sighs] I realized that I could just give up my personal space forever. That’s a little scary. But I don't want to get trapped in my head about it. So for once... I'm going to listen to my heart. [smiles]

-

The house is quiet, the comfortable kind. A lamp glows softly from the corner of the room, washing everything in warm amber light. Felix sinks deeper into the corner of your sofa, one arm stretched comfortably along the backrest while a half-finished glass of wine rests in his other hand. And you are sitting beside him with your legs tucked underneath yourself, nursing your own glass of wine. Your cat is somewhere nearby, probably hiding behind one of the potted plants, likely plotting violence.

It's simple, ordinary and yet, Felix can't stop smiling.

Your place is small. Objectively speaking, it is. But it doesn't feel cramped. It feels warm and comfortable. And safe.

It feels—

"You."

The word leaves his mouth before he even realizes he's spoken.

"What?" you say, feeling summoned.

"This place,” he says with a soft chuckle. "It feels like you."

A smile immediately tugs at your lips. You take another sip of your wine and then narrow your eyes at him playfully. "So... you want to live here?"

The answer comes before he can think about it. “Yeah.”

Your laughter bursts out instantly. You shake your head, amused. “This place is way too small.”

Felix looks around dramatically. “I fit.”

"You fit,” you say, pointing at him and then you gesture between the two of you. "But we don't."

Felix snorts. "Yeah, okay."

“And you need a proper kitchen to function,” you add with a sly smile.

"Then you can move in with me,” he suggests so casually like this is just a dinner plan and not a long-term one. But he likes how easy it feels between the two of you.

You don't immediately dismiss it either. Instead, you hum thoughtfully. “Maybe.”

Felix smiles at that and then a bit later, you add, “But if we're having seven kids, we'll need a bigger house.”

He quietly smiles because you thought of it like the seven kids plan is not just a mere inside joke anymore. That it’s there, listed in one of the long-term plans.

"Guess we'll have to buy a farm,” he easily, playfully resolves.

The image alone makes him grin. A giant farmhouse. A kitchen bigger than some apartments. Children running everywhere. Farm animals roaming around outside.

You laugh at his answer but something thoughtful takes over. "Honestly... Yeah, why not? At some point, we'll probably need a bigger place anyway.”

He smiles at that, because the thought of building a life, a family with you makes him content with immense joy.

But all of a sudden, your expression dims just slightly. “But I’m afraid it’ll take time for us to afford it.”

The earnestness in your voice catches his attention. He sets his drink down and then reaches for your hand. You let him take it, fingers automatically settling between his.

Felix rests your joined hands on his lap and carefully asks, “What do you mean, baby?”

A small laugh escapes you before you begin talking. "When I started my business... I took out a loan."

Felix nods, intently listening and giving you all of his attention.

“And before you panic,” you pause to let out a chuckle. “My credit score is good."

He offers you a smile and you smile back at him. “Business is going great, yeah?” he warmly asks, not pushing.

“Yeah. It’s great. It’s just…” You glance down at you glass of wine before continuing. “I still have about two years left on it. It'll probably take time before we'd qualify for something bigger. You know, like a farm."

The room grows quiet but not the kind that is uncomfortable. It’s actually the opposite because both of you feel safe to have this kind of conversation.

Felix squeezes your hand gently and carefully asks, “Are you struggling with it?”

You look at him and calmly answer, “No. I’m good. I just want you to know that.”

Felix nods and his smile deepen at that. He puts his other hand on top of your joined hands. “I trust you can manage it on your own. But I’d appreciate it if you share or when you need my help.”

It takes you a moment to finally nod. “Okay,” you answer with a smile.

He brings your hand to his lips and places a sweet kiss on it. “Well figure it out,” he mutters with a smile. “The seven kids. The farm. We'll figure it out together.”

The smile that slowly appears on your face makes his chest feel lighter. Like maybe he said exactly what you needed to hear. Before either of you can say anything else, a blur of orange launches onto the sofa and directly onto your lap. The cat circles twice before settling dramatically.

Felix watches Gnocchi. Gnocchi watches Felix. The rivalry remains alive.

You scratch behind the cat's ears. Then glance toward Felix. “You know... Your biggest concern right now isn't a bigger house."

Felix narrows his eyes at the feline creature, suddenly they’re in a heating staring contest. "No?"

You shake your head. Then point at the cat. "It's getting him to like you."

"I thought we were making progress,” Felix answers without looking away, not willing to lose.

Gnocchi immediately turns his back to Felix as if proving your point.

You burst into laughter and Felix groans dramatically. "Okay,” he groans, pointing at the cat. "This is personal."

Gnocchi burrow deeper into your lap and remains completely unbothered.

-

FELIX: I think conversations like that are really important. The romance is still there. But now you're talking about real things. Houses. Loans. Finances. Future plans. And I appreciate how open she was with me. She didn't try to hide anything, didn’t avoid the conversation. Because if we're going to build a life together, we need to be able to have those conversations. There's still a lot for us to figure out. But hearing her be open and honest with me... It reassures me. It makes me feel like we're a team. [softly smiles]

-

19 DAYS UNTIL WEDDING

The apartment is quiet when you step through the front door. But mostly, there is the absence of Felix. You knew he would be late. He told you on the phone nearly an hour ago and even then, you'd caught the exhaustion in his voice.

So you showered, changed into comfortable clothes. Washed your face. Finished your skincare routine. Brought a notebook with you and sit curled on the sofa, listing down wedding preparations.

Somewhere along the way, waiting for him became your favorite part of the day. Once in a while, you glance at the clock. Then back at the page. Then at the clock again.

The moment you hear keys rattling outside the apartment door, you're already getting to your feet. Your heart does that ridiculous flip like it always does now.

The door eventually opens and the exhaustion is evident on his face but there he is. His shoulders droop slightly beneath his jacket. His hair is a little messy. There are faint shadows beneath his eyes. But the second he sees you standing there waiting for him, his entire face lights up like someone switched the sun back on.

“Hey, baby,” he says with a wide grin.

You smile immediately. “Hey, you…"

He doesn't even make it three steps inside before you're opening your arms and he walks right into them.

“Welcome home,” you murmur.

His arms wrap around your waist instantly and you feel him press a kiss against your cheek. Then another. Then one near your jaw. “Missed you,” he mumbles.

“Missed you,” you softly echo then press a light kiss on his jaw.

He finds your lips first, kissing you softly but somehow, it takes the edge off the entire day.

When he pulls away, you reluctantly loosen your hold on him. But you keep your hand on the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there. "How was work?"

Felix groans dramatically. "Tiring. Fun but tiring."

You smile because that answer sounds more like him.

"How about you? How was your day?"

"It was okay."

"Just okay?"

You shrug as you look up at him. “It’s better now.”

He hums knowingly before leaning in and kissing your lips again, longer than the previous like he’s making up for the hours being apart from you.

The two of you eventually drift toward the living room together, hands lacing together. Felix drops his bag beside the sofa and rolls his shoulders.

“Are you hungry?” you ask.

"Kind of. Yeah.”

“I can make you something,” you offer with a smile.

He smiles back at you and rubs your arm. "You don't have to. You're probably tired too."

"I'm not,” you assure him.

"You worked all day."

"And you've been cooking for other people all day so the last thing you want to do is… cook," you say, making a valid point that he can’t deny.

He starts laughing before you even finish. "Okay."

“Husband 101,” you tell him with a pleased smile. “Trust that the wife is always right.”

Felix grins at that. “But babe, we’re not married yet,” he retorts.

You glare at him but it does nothing but makes him break into deep, warm laughter. "What do you want to eat?"

Felix pretends to consider it seriously and a while later, a mischievous smile appears. "I want your sad omelet."

Your jaw drops and stare at him, offended. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

He breaks into laughter and then cups your face with both hands. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says with an apologetic smile.

But then you start laughing too while lightly slapping his chest and mutter, “You're unbelievable.”

"You love me,” he mutters back, pulling you into a hug.

Unfortunately, he's right. You hug him back before pulling away just enough to look at him and sigh dramatically. "I'm making fried rice."

"Can it come with sad omelet?" he teases more.

You narrow your eyes. "Keep talking and you’ll have my fist for dinner.”

“I’d better stop before things get too violent,” he jokingly says. He leans to press a quick kiss on your lips.

"I'll be right back,” he murmurs when he pulls away and then he escapes before you can properly scold him.

Coward. You smile as you watch him disappear into the bedroom.Then you walk to the kitchen to get late dinner started.

The apartment feels lived in now. Shared. You smile to yourself as the fried rice sizzles in the pan. And despite all the worries that still linger in the corners of your mind, you feel strangely calm.

The sound of Felix’s footsteps snaps you out of your head and you glance up to find Felix already dressed in a white t-shirt and dark sweatpants. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower.

“Please, sit down,” you tell him with a smile. “Dinner is almost ready.”

Felix flashes you his bright grin as he pulls a chair and then sits on it, patiently waiting and watching you plating the fried rice. And honestly, you feel a little nervous still about serving the food to him. Afraid that the chef in him won’t approve.

“Fried rice,” you say, serving the plate in front of him.

An eyebrow raised in question. “And the—"

Before he can finish his sentence, you put a smaller plate next to his fried rice. “And the sad omelet,” you say with a subtle eyeroll.

“There it is,” Felix brightly says before putting an arm around your waist and gives you a side hug. His eyes filled with loving glint when he looks at you and sincerely says, “Thank you, baby.”

Your heart does that stupid thing again. The one it only does for him. You tenderly brush his hair to the back and hold it there. “You’re so very welcome.”

A few minutes later, the two of you settle at the dining table. You take the chair next to him, resting your chin on your hand while watching him, waiting for his reaction on the food you cooked in anticipation.

Felix scoops up a bite of fried rice, brings it to his mouth and chews. His expression changes almost suddenly. His eyebrows knit together.  His mouth twists.

You immediately sit up straighter. "What?”

He says nothing and keeps chewing, but the grimace deepens.

Your eyes narrow in slight panic. “Is it… is it bad?”

He looks at you with a serious face and holds for exactly one second longer before he bursts out laughing. “It’s good. It’s good,” he assures you.

You groan and throw a napkin at him, but he catches it effortlessly while still laughing, still looking at you like you're his favorite person in the world and that makes everything worth it.

By the time Felix finished with dinner, the apartment has settled into its usual evening quiet.

The dishes are done. The lights are dimmed. You disappear into the bedroom and change into your nightdress before brushing your hair one last time in front of the mirror.

When you return to the bedroom, you expect Felix already there but the bed is cold. With a sigh and a smile, you pad back into the living room and sure enough, he’s there, sitting on the sofa, playing on his portable game console, completely absorbed. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. His thumbs move rapidly over the controls.

You walk over quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Baby, you're not tired yet?”

Without taking his eyes off the screen, he answers immediately. “I'll only play for a bit. Is that okay?”

You hum and then drape an arm across his chest from behind. Leaning down, you press a coaxing kiss against the side of his neck. Another near his jaw.

His shoulders visibly relax at that. “Mm.”

You smile against his skin. “Are you coming to bed soon?”

This time he finally pauses the game. He reaches up and places a hand over yours, turning his head just enough to meet your eyes. His smile is soft and fond when he says, “I’ll be there soon.”

You study him for a second and understand immediately. He needs this to unwind from the day, having a little space between work and sleep. So you lean down and place a sweet kiss on the top of his head. “Don't stay up too late, yeah?”

"I won't."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

Felix breaks into laughter. "I'll be there soon," he promises once more.

"Okay."

With that, you reluctantly let him go and head back to the bedroom.

The room is dark when you slip beneath the blankets. At first, you try scrolling through your thoughts, trying to force sleep to arrive. It doesn’t'. Because somewhere out in the living room, the deep voiced man starts groaning in frustration.

“AHH!”

You close your eyes, still trying to sleep and then—

“OH, COME ON!”

You bury your face in your pillow and a few minutes later, comes another groan, another frustrated complaint or a dramatic sigh. You can hear everything because you keep the bedroom door ajar and every sound travels perfectly.

Wonderful.

Eventually the apartment falls quiet again and you’ve been lying there, wide awake. And soon, you can hear his footsteps approaching and then the creak of the bedroom door opens. Then mattress dips as Felix settles beside you.

When he snuggles up to you, only then does he realize your eyes are open. "Babe, you’re awake?"

His arm tightens around your waist, pulling you against his chest. "Did I wake you?"

You slowly turn your head toward him. "What do you think?" You ask while continue staring him in the eyes. "How could I sleep when you're out there screaming for your life?"

Felix immediately starts laughing. His forehead drops onto your shoulder. "Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"Was I really that loud?"

You playfully glare at him. "What? With that deep voice of yours?”

His laughter grows worse and softly, he says, "I'm sorry."

You turn on the bed, facing him now and place a hand to cup the side of his face. “You know I don't mind you playing games.”

“I know.”

“But you're tired.”

Felix nods. “Yeah.”

“And it's late.”

“Yeah.”

“You worked all day.”

“Yes.”

“And instead of resting, you're screaming at game characters.”

His shoulders shake with another laugh and then his voice softens as he apologizes once more. “I'm sorry, baby.”

You try very hard to stay annoyed but the problem is that Felix looks entirely too cute when he's apologizing with his slightly pouty lips and doe eyes. You huff dramatically at him. "And because of you, I can't sleep."

A grin immediately appears on his face. “That’s easy,” he lightly says as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I'll just have to help you fall asleep."

You raise an eyebrow at that, knowing where this is going especially with the way his hand glides down the curve of your ass. "Don't even try to get lucky."

His grin returns as he leans forward and presses a light kiss against your lips. When he pulls back, his voice is warm. "I'm marrying you soon."

And before you can think of a response, he lands another brief, tender kiss and then adds, "I couldn't get any luckier than that."

Just like that, the argument evaporates.

You hate when he does that.

You love when he does that.

-

YOU: I think it's really important to talk about things right away. Not every disagreement needs to become a huge problem. If something bothers me, I'd rather say it. And Felix is really good about that. [smiles] He's open. He's willing to listen. And he's willing to apologize when he's wrong. I think we communicate really well. [nods] And knowing we can talk through things before they grow into something bigger makes me feel really secure in this relationship.

-

Felix can't stop looking at you. Your naked body painted in warm glow of the bedside lamp, the sheets are tangled around your legs, one of the pillows half-stolen and tucked beneath you, and somehow the sight hits him harder than anything else ever could. Not only because it's provocative, because it’s you, trusting yourself to him.

You glance over your shoulder, immediately catching him staring. A smile curves across your lips. “What is it, baby?” you lowly speak, almost like a mewl.

Felix reaches forward and brushes your hair away to the side, allowing him to land a kiss on your bare shoulder. “I just like looking at you,” he mutters against your skin.

Your smile widens.

"That's a dangerous thing to admit."

"Why?"

"Because now I know."

He laughs quietly. The sound is low and fond. "I think you've known for a while."

You don't deny it. Instead, you reach for him, an arm curved around his neck and pull him down, just enough for you to kiss him. “You don’t have to try so hard. You’re marrying me soon,” you tease, lips grazing his as you speak.

Instead of responding, he crashes his lips against yours again and a moment later, he slowly pulls away. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he settles beside you, a hand trailing down your spine.

He looks at you, eyes widen and brimming with admiration as he takes the shape of you. With that pillow tucked under you, your ass is raised higher than the rest of your body, presenting him that arousing sight of your wetness opening. His hand finds your waist automatically, angling you just right as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

“Oh, baby…” his voice somehow deeper and rough around the edges. “I don’t think I can hold myself back anymore.”

Thankfully, he’s already put the condom on before anything else, knowing that his patience would get in the way sooner than later. Slowly, he pushes himself into you with a steady grip on your waist.

A raw groan spills out of his parted mouth at the way you’re welcoming him. The warmth. The closeness. The tightness. It’s overwhelming and yet, he can’t get enough. Will never get enough.

His grips on your waist tighten as he pushes more into you, muttering broken profanities in between hisses and rough groans. He pauses with his length half disappeared into you, needing a second to collect himself.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, hastily kisses the skin there before pressing his mouth close to your ear. “How do you always take me well, mmh?”

There’s no answer. Only breathless moans coming out of your mouth and muffled by the pillow. You somehow able to arch your back, launching him deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, teeth faintly biting at your shoulder. He reigns himself fast, not wanting to let go. Not yet. Not this quick.

Yet, Felix thrusts the remaining length into you in one swift push, making you both gasp at the sudden fullness, the heat.  The air between you thick with the kind of intimacy that has nothing to do with words. His back pressed against your back, mouth pressed against your neck while yours is into the pillow.

Neither of you says anything for a moment. But at one point, you prop your elbows against the mattress and drop your head to the side.

Felix doesn’t waste a second to indulge on your exposed neck, lathering the sensitive skin with haste, hot kisses. His hand goes under, cupping at your breast in gentle fondles. You curve an arm around him, hand tangled in his blond locks.

“Can’t get enough of you, baby,” he mutters into the skin before hastily capturing your lips in a deep, rough kiss.

When he’s calmed enough, only then he begins moving, thrusting into you from behind, slowly and steadily, barely making any noise. But the quiet that hangs in the room only adds to the mounting tension.

Felix closes his eyes, centering himself. He props his hands on each side of you, fingers loosely clawing at the sheets as he keeps the pace, still as slow but with more intensity. When he glances down, he finds you looking at him. Your mouth slightly parted, eyes soft and wide, filled with more than just lust but also affection and admiration. He feels something in his chest tighten because God, he’s never been loved like this before.

You slowly blink and your eyes are still on him, still with the same fondness. “You feel so good, baby,” you murmur with an almost sleepy smile.

He slowly leans down, placing a long, lingering kiss on your lips. “I know, baby,” he mutters against your lips when he pulls away. “Cause you feel good around me too.”

Felix lowers himself on top of you, propping against his forearms now as to not let his whole weight on you. His head is once again buried his head in your neck as he keeps thrusting into you, his pace quickening while you're tightening around him. He knows you’re close, knows it from the way he feels like he’s being sucked deep into you.

When you tilt your head up again, your eyes are a little hazy. “Felix, baby, I don't think I can hold it anymore,” you whine.

Felix only smiles before kissing you and keeps kissing you even though you barely kissing him back, too overwhelmed by the pleasure. “Just let go, yeah?” he murmurs, rolling his hips in pulsating motions now, deeper and harder.

Soon enough, you’re clenching, fluttering around him. Your body tightens and loosens in the next second as the waves of pleasure washing over you. His hands finding yours and lacing them together, holding you through it.

“That’s it, baby,” he mutters, hot breath ghosting your neck. “Come around me. Just like that…”

Even with your eyes still clouded with pleasure, you find his immediately when you turn your head his way. “Want you to come, babe,” you mumble, a second from crashing your lips against him.

With that, Felix continues moving, slowly chasing his high with his body still tangled with yours. Somehow, you’re more sensitive than before, breathlessly moaning in every thrust, fingers gripping the side of the pillow. But it’s the way your velvety walls clinging to him that undoes him.

His hips stuttering, the pace turns sloppy until eventually, Felix loses all of the control and just… let go. The growl that rips out of him is raw and rough, almost animalistic. With the pleasure still rushing through hi, he collapses on top of you, an arm coming under and around you, holding you tight as he kisses your bare shoulder and neck and at last, your lips.

“I love you.”

The words tumbling out of his mouth so naturally and it feels right.

Your eyes soften, lips curving into a fond smile. “I love you too, baby.”

The answer lands somewhere deep inside him. Somewhere permanent. He leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to your lips. The kind that says more than words ever could.

The rest of the world can wait. The wedding can wait. Reality can wait.

Tonight it's just the two of you wrapped up in warmth and affection and the growing certainty that whatever comes next, you'll face it together.

-

FELIX: I know it won't always be sunshine and rainbows. There'll be disagreements. Arguments. Moments where we annoy each other. But what makes me feel good is knowing we talk things through. And honestly, that's what gives me confidence. Because every time something comes up, we end up understanding each other better afterward. [smiles] So yeah… if we happen to make up with a great sex afterward... [chuckles] I'm not complaining. [nonchalantly shrugs]

-

The wrinkles between your brows deepen when you stop at a red light. You don't even realize you're doing it until a warm hand settles over yours where it rests on the gearshift.

You glance sideways and finds Felix is already looking at you. Not saying anything. His fingers squeeze yours once before letting go.

The bouquet of flowers rests on his lap, the box of pastries balanced carefully beside him.

He looks ridiculously handsome for someone who's only going to meet your mother and somehow that makes you even more nervous. You deeply inhale and focus on the road, driving through the familiar streets, familiar turns.

“So, what do you think your mom's reaction is going to be?” Felix asks, probably trying to distract you.

You let out a small breath, then shrug. “I think she'll be excited.”

“Yeah?”

A smile tugs at your lips at the thought. “Mostly because she'll finally think I'm settling down.”

That gets a laugh out of him and you can see him loosening up.

Then you add, with a playful smile. “Though she's probably not expecting any of this.”

Felix glances over. "What do you mean?"

You wince. "Well..." you pause and laugh nervously. “I might have told her I was leaving for a business trip.”

His head snaps toward you. "You what?"

You burst out laughing. "It sounded better than telling her I was disappearing to marry a stranger."

His mouth falls open. “So, your mom doesn't know? About the experiment?”

You shake your head.

Felix looks absolutely stunned. “Oh my God. We’re just dropping an engagement on her.”

You grip the steering wheel tighter. "Please stop reminding me."

His laughter fills the car and despite yourself, it eases some of the tension sitting heavily in your chest. Until the neighborhood appears and you feel like you’re being transported back to when you were younger except that now the roads seem narrower and the houses seem smaller.

You glance toward Felix wondering and worrying if he'll judge you from it. You admit that it isn’t the most ideal neighborhood to raise a child in. But when you sneak another look at him, he's staring out the window with genuine curiosity and nothing else.

By the time you pull into the driveway, your palms are sweating. You put the car in park and the silence settles immediately. Neither of you moves for a brief moment and then you look at him.

Felix flashes you a comforting smile even though you know he’s just as nervous as you. But there’s excitement there too. Then he gathers the bouquet of flowers and the box of pastries he insisted on buying because for some reasons, he believes your mom would love it.

“I’m ready,” he says with a bright and hopeful smile like he’s genuinely happy to be here.

You smile back at him, hoping that it’s equally bright and hopeful. “Okay.”

And suddenly it doesn't feel quite so terrifying.

Together, you climb out of the car and walk toward the house. Your hand trembles slightly when it closes around the doorknob and you quietly laugh to yourself. You take a breath and then push the door open.

Immediately, familiar voices drift toward you. You immediately find your mother sits at the dining table with your aunt beside her. Your cousin in the kitchen with her baby balanced on her hip. Three heads turn at once when you come into their sight.

"Mom,” you begin, voice slightly shaking.

You take another step forward and behind you, Felix quietly follows. Close enough that you can feel his presence. Far enough that he's letting you take the lead.

You greet everyone first, giving quick hugs and cheek-to-cheek kisses, and exchanging pleasantries in between. Then finally, you turn toward Felix and everyone's attention land on him.

"This is Felix," you warmly introduce with a smile.

You notice almost everything — the way your aunt's eyebrows shoot upward, the way your cousin tries to keep her cool. But your mother… she looks confused by his presence.

To not let awkwardness gets in the way, you quickly introduce everyone back to Felix and he politely greet each one of them with such warmth and charms. And when you finally introduce your mother, he straightens almost immediately like the way people do when meeting someone important.

"It’s really lovely to meet you,” he says to your mother with the brightest smile you ever seen on him.

Your mother looks surprised and you believe it’s mostly because such deep voice come from such a small body. Then the two exchange a brief hug.

Felix carefully hands over the flowers. “I hope you like it,” he sweetly says.

Your mother’s face softens instantly and her lips curl into a soft smile, genuinely touched. “Oh. These are beautiful.”

"And these too," Felix says, placing the box of pastries on the table.

Your aunt shamelessly complimenting what a handsome man he is and Felix is visibly flustered by it. But as soon as it gets quiet, you realize there's no avoiding this anymore.

Your mother notices how nervous you are and asks, "What is going on?"

You laugh nervously and swallow air before speaking. “Remember that business trip?”

Your mother nods slowly.

“Well...” You glance at Felix and then back at her. “It wasn't exactly a business trip.”

Immediately, her face scrunches in confusion. Your aunt looks intrigued. Your cousin invested in this more than the baby babbling for her attention.

“I actually joined an experiment. A social experiment. And...” you pause because suddenly, your throat feels dry and your heart pounding as your eyes slowly drifting toward Felix’s. “And I met someone.”

Your mother gets quiet for one second too long and you look down at your left hand, holding it out to her. The engagement ring glints under the afternoon sun.

There’s a gasp, a shout and they’re all in disbelief. Your cousin’s mouth hanging open as she bounces the baby in her arms while your aunt slaps a hand over her mouth. And your mother's eyes widen so much you think they might stay that way forever.

“You're engaged?” The question comes out as a whisper like she genuinely doesn't believe it.

You nod, grinning despite yourself. "Yeah."

And you figure that it’s best to share the rest of the news with them so you add, "And we're getting married in eighteen days"

That gets everyone talking at once. Your mother looks completely overwhelmed. She reaches for your hand, pulling it closer and examining the ring. She turns it slightly under the light and all of a sudden, her eyes fill with tears.

“Mom, why are crying?” you lowly ask.

Her fingers tighten around yours as she keeps staring at the ring. Then at you. Then at Felix.

You genuinely don't know what she's feeling. Is she happy? Sad? Shocked? Overwhelmed? Maybe all of it at once?

All you know is that your mother is crying and this is the first time you’ve seen her like this.

-

YOU: This is completely uncharted territory for me. I've never brought a man home to meet my mom before. And now the first guy I bring home is apparently my fiancé. [chuckles] I genuinely can't tell what she's feeling. She's just started tearing up when she knows. And I don't know if those are happy tears, shocked tears, angry tears, or all three at the same time. [smiles] So... [shrugs] We'll find out.

-

The dining table is crowded with teacups, half-eaten pastries, and lively conversations. The bouquet he brought sits in a vase your mother somehow found within minutes of receiving it. Felix likes being among your family. He likes it because he can see where you come from.

Everything is going surprisingly well until your mother looks directly at him and he immediately knows he's about to be interviewed.

“Is he reliable?”

You groan beside him. “Mom.”

“Is he financially stable?”

“Mom,” you repeat, dragging the word out this time.

"What?" she says unapologetically. “I need to know if he can take care of you.”

You sigh dramatically. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

Your mother ignores you entirely. “That’s beside the point.”

Under the table, Felix reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze and your fingers immediately curl around his. and also, he expected those questions and he doesn’t mind at all.

"I work full-time," he answers politely. "And yes, I'm financially stable."

"He's a chef, mom," you add with a proud smile.

Your mother nods slowly. Not convinced. Not unconvinced either. Just quietly processing. She folds her hands together on her lap and then comes the next question.

“Why are you marrying my daughter?”

The room quiets except for your cousin's baby who is still making tiny noises in her baby stool. But everyone is listening, everyone is paying attention.

Felix takes a slow breath and then looks at your mother. Then at you. You look nervous which strangely makes him feel calmer. “It's because of how she makes me feel,” he easily answers.

Your mother's expression softens as Felix continues talking. “When I'm with her, I feel like the best version of myself.”

His thumb tenderly caressing the back of your hand under the table. “She makes me feel settled."

He glances down at your joined hands. “At ease.”

Then back up. “And once I realized that, I knew she was someone I wanted beside me for the rest of my life.”

Your aunt immediately lets out a soft coo, completely smitten. "Aww…"

Your cousin nods approvingly while you look seconds away from melting into your chair.

Meanwhile, your mother studies him carefully. Still evaluating. Still deciding. “You know, she's had it tough because it was just the two of us.”

Felix's smile fades into something gentler, he intently listens knowing that there’s more to it.

Your mother glances toward you, her voice wavers as she adds, “And she’s been hurt— we’ve been hurt.”

You lower your eyes, pressing your lips together into a thin line. A tell that you’re holding yourself back from crying.

"As a parent, that's my biggest fear,” she says, her voice somehow quieter than before. “I don’t want her to experience the same hurt like I did.”

Your mother wipes quickly at her eye with the back of her hand, embarrassed by the tears.

Felix's chest aches because he understands your mother’s worries. This is her daughter, the person she spent years protecting, the person she loves the most.

“I think you raised an amazing girl,” he softly, earnestly says.

“I know,” your mother answers without a beat. “She's smart. She works hard. She’s confident in herself. Though, she can be very stubborn at times.”

The whole table burst into soft laughter while you point accusingly at your mother. "Mom!"

Felix shakes his head fondly. Then looks at your mother again. “When I met her, I knew she was already a whole person.”

Your eyes immediately find his and continue to look at him with fondness brimming your eyes.

“I wasn't looking for someone to complete me. And I'm not here to complete her either.” He squeezes your hand again. “I want to build a life together with her.”

Your mother stares at him for a long moment and tears begin pooling in her eyes again. She points a finger at him. “You'd better take care of her.”

Felix doesn't hesitate to answer confidently and without the slightest of doubt, “I will.”

Your mother nods. Then glances toward you. “Because that's my baby right there," she says, voice breaking in between words.

Felix turns his head to the side and sees that you are already crying. Tears shining in your eyes. His heart nearly explodes with mix of emotions by it.

He manages to steadily look into your mother’s eyes. “I know,” he says softly.

Under the table, he squeezes your hand once more. This time you squeeze back.

Your mother turns toward you. “What about you? What did it for you?”

You quickly wipe your eyes as the entire table shifts their attention toward you. You laugh nervously and then shrug. “Our conversations were easy. We just clicked.”

You glance at Felix, fond eyes and a shy smile. And his stomach flips. Every single time.

“And I thought he'd make a really good best friend.”

Your mother nods at that.

Then you add, “And an even better husband.”

The table erupts in a wave of coos. Felix’s hand flies to his neck, absentmindedly scratching the skin there. His cheeks heat, flustered.

You laugh seeing his flustered state but continue talking anyway. “The craziest part is I didn't even know what he looked like.”

Your cousin's eyes widen at that. “You said yes to his proposal before seeing him?”

You grin and nod.

Your aunt looks horrified but invested in it. “So it’s all based on conversations? And hearing each other?”

“Yes.”

Everyone exchanges weird stares with each other while both you and Felix are laughing because, honestly, hearing it out loud still sounds ridiculous.

“That actually sounds like the right way to find a man,” your mother playfully says.

The entire table bursts into laughter. Even Felix. Especially Felix. Because in the span of an afternoon, he thinks he might actually be winning your mother over.

-

FELIX: I knew meeting her family was going to be important. Her mum wants the best for her. Of course she does. So I wanted her mum to like me. Because if I'm going to marry her daughter, I want her family to feel confident about that. I want them to know I'll take care of her. I think it went pretty well. [smiles] But if her mum doesn’t approve… That would be very, very tough.

-

The barbecue starts before sunset. By the time the sky turns orange and purple above the apartment complex, music is already playing from someone's speaker, drinks are flowing freely, and the entire park smells like grilled meat and charcoal. It's nice to be with the other couples again like a real neighborhood gathering rather than a reality dating show.

Felix naturally migrates toward the grill the second he sees it. He knows that that is his expertise and rises to the occasion. And you don't think anyone is surprised either.

He's standing beside the barbecue now, sleeves rolled up, tongs in hand, carefully turning pieces of meat while Morgan assembles everything onto paper plates before distributing it to everyone.

Across the lawn, Rob is attempting some ridiculous beer-drinking stunt while Shane films it on his phone. Sonya is dancing. Laura is laughing. Someone misses a beer pong shot so badly it nearly hits a bush. It’s a chaos. Warm, familiar chaos.

And somewhere along the way, you get a little too generous with your alcohol consumption. Now you're curled up on a garden chair with both feet tucked beneath you, a drink balanced precariously in your hands, watching the party through pleasantly blurry eyes.

Jim eventually drops into the chair beside yours, nursing a bottle of beer and from the flushed cheeks, you can tell that he’s just as tipsy. Though somehow still looking considerably more sober than you.

He takes one look at your current position. “You okay there?”

“Very.”

“You look like a folded lawn chair.”

You snort into your drink.

Jim grins and then slumps on his chair. “How's living together been?”

You look across the park, at Felix who’s now grilling skewers while talking animatedly with Shane now. The sight warms your heart in the best way.

“It's been great,” you honestly share. “I’m still struggling though. Because I used to live alone.”

Jim immediately understands. “Yeah. It’s an adjustment.”

You stare down at your drink and maybe it’s the alcohol that loosens something inside you and the careful way you normally package your feelings. And because it's Jim, because he’s one of the few people who might actually understand the feeling.

“Being in love is terrifying,” you blurt out.

Jim takes a sip from his bottle. Then nods. “Yep.”

You softly laugh and it’s mostly because you're relieved he didn't look at you like you were crazy. “The more in love I am with Felix... The more scared I get.”

A crease formed between Jim’s eyebrows. “What are you scared of?”

You glance across the lawn again and see Felix laughs so hard now he's doubled over slightly while Rob demonstrates whatever stupid thing he's trying to do with the ping pong ball.

The sight makes your chest squeeze because he looks happy. Because you love him. Because that's exactly the problem.

“That something's going to screw it up.”

Jim immediately raises a hand, stopping you from talking. “No. We’re not going to do that,” he says while shaking his head.

You ignore his warning. “The happier I get, the more I think about losing it.”

“No.”

You laugh. “Will you let me finish?”

Jim points at you. “You can't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Catastrophize.”

You wrinkle your nose and open your mouth, but nothing comes out. But your smile fades a little. Because the fear is still there.

“It just feels... It feels too good to be true,” You look down at your lap. “And I've never been this happy.”

The barbecue party is still going and yet suddenly everything feels very small. But it’s just you and your fear of something that probably won’t happen at all. “I can't afford to lose a love like this.”

Your voice cracks slightly but you continue anyway. “If I did… It would fucking destroy me.”

For once, Jim doesn't immediately joke. He just sits there, looking at you. Then he reaches over and puts a hand on your shoulder. “You've gotta stop putting that much pressure on it.”

You look at him and his voice stays gentle as he adds, “If things are working, then let them work.”

The simplest answer in the world and somehow the hardest one.

“If you’re happy, then be happy. Enjoy it. Embrace it,” he says, hand squeezes your shoulder once. “Because you finally deserve it.”

The words hit harder than you expect. Your eyes sting and you quickly blink it away. Then give him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Jim.”

And across the lawn, Felix glances over as if he can somehow feel you looking. His face immediately brightens when he spots you. He lifts a pair of tongs, waving it at you.

And just like that, the knot in your chest loosens.

-

YOU: I don't know. [softly laughs] Everyone keeps telling me to enjoy it. And I am enjoying it. But sometimes I get scared. I keep waiting for something to go wrong. Because I just... [heavily sighs] I can't seem to get over this feeling that I don't deserve any of it. But I'm trying. [smiles] I'm really trying.

-

The beer pong game is an absolute disaster. Mostly because you are no longer taking it seriously. Not that you were particularly competitive to begin with, but now you're standing beside Felix with both arms wrapped around one of his, cheek pressed against his shoulder while Laura and Shane patiently wait for you to take your turn.

“Babe.”

“Hm?”

“It's your throw.”

“Oh.”

You glare at the ping pong ball in your hand as though you've never seen one before. Then you throw it.

The ball bounces nowhere near the table and everyone bursts into laughter.

You immediately hide your face against Felix's shoulder. "Oh my God."

The rest of the game continues much the same way. You miss shots. You keep stealing kisses from him between turns. At one point, you forget whose team you're on. And every time Felix says anything remotely funny, you laugh like he's the funniest person who has ever existed. Instead of annoyed, he finds you adorable.

Thankfully, the party wrapped up not long after and one by one, everyone begins saying their goodbyes before heading to their respective apartments.

Once the two of you get into your shared apartment, he carries you in his arms and takes you to the bedroom. He gently kicks open the door with his foot before carefully settling you onto the bed. He kneels to remove your shoes next, takes your jacket off so you’re comfortable. He brings a glass of water from the kitchen and makes you drink half of it despite your complaints.

When he gets off the bed, you immediately curl beneath the blankets. He takes a moment to admire this small ball of limbs and blankets and sleepy grumbling. Then, he’s off to get ready for bed.

When he finally slides into bed beside you, he's surprised to find your eyes open and you immediately turn toward him, still bundled up in blanket.

“Feel better?” he softly asks.

You nod. “I feel a little sober now.”

He puts an arm around you, hand continuously landing slow, comforting rubs on your back as the room falls quiet.

You scratch your nose with your finger and then randomly ask, “Did I do anything embarrassing tonight?”

“Not really,” he says, reaching over and brushing loose hair away from your face. “I think you were cute the whole time.”

You pout and narrow your eyes in suspicion.

Felix smiles and then leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. When he pulls away, he stays there, leaving only inches away between your faces.

Your eyes drift over his face, quietly tracing his facial features like you’re trying to imprint it in the back of your head. And then you randomly ask again, “How do you feel after meeting my family?”

The question catches him off guard. Not because of the question itself. Because of the timing and the vulnerability sitting behind it.

He considers it carefully before answering. “They're great. Very lovely people.”

“You sound surprised,” you teasingly say.

“I’m being honest,” he tells you with a grin tugging at his lips. And without thinking, he adds, “And I didn't expect you to grow up in that house.”

The second the words leave his mouth, your expression turns sour, your shoulders tense and your eyes lower, then narrow. “What does that mean?”

“It doesn't mean anything bad,” he calmly says.

“You pity me?” you ask, rather accusatory instead of a question.

“No, baby,” Felix calmly answers once more.

Your gaze sharpens and so does your voice. “Is that what this whole thing is? You don’t love me. You pity me.”

Felix inhales air to keep his composure because inside, he feels a little angry because you mistook it, you misunderstood it. And because he recognizes this as the same fear you've warned him before. The same fear that waits for cracks, for proof that someone might leave.

He reaches for your arm, gently holding you there as he patiently says, “You know that's not what I meant.”

You don't answer but tears already gathering in your eyes.

Felix's heart breaks a little. He’s never meant to make you cry or worse, hurt you. Instead of pulling you, he moves closer. “It's actually the opposite.”

Your gaze finally lifts and he holds your gaze, not letting you look away. “I wouldn't have guessed because of the person you are now. You built a life for yourself. You worked hard on it. You’re strong.”

The tears begin spilling anyway and Felix immediately wipes them away with his thumb. “And despite your circumstance, you grew up well. You made a life for yourself.”

You shakily inhale air but tears continue to stream down your cheek.

“I'm not pitying you. I'm amazed by you,” he speaks gently but there’s firmness to it like he needs you to know that he means every word that comes out of his mouth.

Your face crumples as more tears flood down your face and Felix immediately pulls you closer. Your body folds into his immediately. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you together.

“I'm so proud of you, baby,” he says it with so sincerely that his chest aches with it.

That does it. You bury your face against his chest and your cry turns into a full-on sob. It’s years and years of hurt finding a crack to escape through.

Felix holds you through all of it. One hand rubbing your back and the other cradling the back of your head. Occasionally pressing kisses into your hair, your forehead, your temple. Just anywhere he can reach.

Eventually your breathing steadies but you stay tucked against him like you're afraid to move.

Felix presses another kiss to the top of your head. Then he glances down to find your eyes and when they meet, only then he mutters, “I love you.”

There’s no answer but he knows you heard it, feel it. You close your eyes and your eyelids fluttering from the emotions you try to contain behind them.

Despite it, he says it again just because. “I love you so much,” he mutters with another kiss that lands on your forehead. “And I'm not going anywhere.”

You nod against his chest and he holds you tighter. And lets the silence do the rest.

-

FELIX: She warned me about this. This fear. This old hurt telling her to prepare for the worst. And I know that's not something that's going to disappear overnight. Maybe it won't ever disappear completely. But that's okay. [smiles] Because I'm patient. And if she needs reassurance a hundred times, then I'll give it a hundred times. [softly laughs] A thousand times if I have to.

-

You stand in front of the bedroom mirror for what feels like the hundredth time.

The first dress had been too formal. The second had been too casual. The third somehow made you feel twelve years old. Now all three are draped across the bed behind you like evidence of a breakdown in progress.

With a frustrated sigh, you smooth your hands down the simple black dress you originally picked out an hour ago. The one you should have worn from the beginning because it’s modest yet elegant. You stare at your reflection and inspect your make-up next. You lean closer to the mirror, adjusting a strand of hair behind your ear.

Tonight, it isn't just dinner. Tonight, you’re finally meeting Felix's family. The people who raised him. The people he loves. The people whose approval feels far more important than you want to admit. The thought alone makes your chest feel tight and reconsider your choice of dress.

A soft knock sounds against the bedroom door snaps you out of your head. "Baby?"

You immediately turn, voice slightly shaking as you answer, “In here.”

The door opens and he peeks inside, wearing an apron over a black shirt, looking entirely too handsome for a man currently making dinner. His eyes sweep over you and then a fond smile bloom on his face.

“You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes. “You're clearly biased.”

“I am,” he agrees without hesitation. Then he points at you. “But doesn’t change that fact that you're beautiful.”

Heat rises to your cheeks despite yourself.

Felix grins, clearly pleased that he managed to make you blush. “Come on,” he hooks a thumb toward the hallway. “I need my hype girl while I cook.”

You nod, but don’t move until you take one more look at the mirror and smooth down the hem of your dress.

The apartment smells incredible when you come out of the bedroom. You wander straight into the kitchen where every surface seems occupied by bowls, ingredients, sauces, and carefully prepared dishes.

Naturally, you move toward the nearest cutting board. “Need help?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

You reach for a bowl anyway.

Felix immediately intercepts you. “No.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to complaint but gently turns you around by your shoulders and steers you toward one of the dining chairs. “All you have to do is sit here and look pretty for me.”

You huff dramatically but obey. Mostly because you're too nervous to argue. And you don’t trust yourself near the knife or the stove in this state.

Felix chuckles to himself before opening a bottle of wine. A moment later, a glass appears in front of you. “For the nerves.”

Your shoulders sag, finding relief at the sight of the crimson-colored wine. "Oh thank God.”

You don’t wait to take a grateful sip and it’s not enough to make the anxiety disappear. But enough to dull the sharpest edges.

Across the room, Felix moves easily through the kitchen. Checking the roasted chicken in the oven. Arranging food. Setting serving bowls. He looks comfortable and confident in the way he moves. In contrast to a nervous wreck you are right now.

Felix glances up, catching the tension on your face. "Hey," he softly calls.

You look at him, eyes wide and a bit distracted. “Yes?”

“It's going to be alright,” he says.

You try to smile but it comes out flat. “Yeah.”

He tilts his head, looking offended. “You don't believe me?”

You laugh weakly and put down the wine glass you’ve been holding. “Don’t believe in myself, more like.”

He sets down the last piece of cutlery and walks over. Without saying anything, he crouches beside your chair. His hand finds yours, his eyes softly gazing into yours. “You have nothing to worry about.”

You look down at your intertwined fingers. Then at him. “I feel like I have everything to worry about.”

His eyebrows pull together. “Why?”

Because what if they don't like me? Because what if I'm not enough? Because what if they look at me and wonder why you chose me?

But the words stay trapped inside your head and you shrug instead.

Felix studies you for a long moment. Like he knows there's more you're not saying. Then he lifts your hand and presses a kiss against your knuckles. “My family is going to love you.”

You wish you had his confidence. You really do. Before you can answer, the sharp sound of the doorbell rings through the apartment. You nearly jump out of your chair. Your wine glass rattles.

Felix immediately bursts out laughing. “Babe, it’s just the doorbell.”

You place a hand over your heart, head nodding but your brain is barely computing.

He gets to his feet and looks at the direction of the front door. “Well, they're here,” he easily says like he didn’t just make everything more real. Like you’re not nervous already.

They're here. They're actually here. You stand so quickly the chair scrapes against the floor.Suddenly your palms are sweaty.Your mouth is dry.Your legs feel strangely unsteady.

Felix notices all of it and that’s why his smile fades into something gentler. He extends his hand toward you.

You stare at it for a second before taking it and the moment your fingers touch his, he knows. You can tell from the way his eyes flick down to your trembling hand. Your entire body is.

He squeezes your hand once and then lets go. For a brief second you panic at the loss of contact until his hand settles against the small of your back instead. Together, you walk toward the front door.

Felix reaches for the doorknob and then pauses. His hand resting on the handle when he looks over his shoulder with a warm smile tugging at his lips. “Ready?”

You inhale deeply, trying to gather every ounce of courage you have. “Yeah.”

The lie leaves your mouth easily. Because the truth is, you're nowhere close to ready. Not even a little.

But Felix’s smile grows warmer and brighter. And it’s all you need to make you believe that maybe, if he's on the other side of this with you, everything will be okay.

-

YOU: I was really nervous. Meeting Felix's family felt... important. Because I wanted them to like me. I wanted to make a good impression. [thinly smiles] I think the hard part is that deep down... [sadly sighs] I still struggle with feeling like I deserve any of this. Felix. His family. This future. And what if they can see that? What if they think that I don’t deserve it? [tears up] [sniffles]

-

✨ LOVE IS BLIND: FINAL PART is available on Patreon ✨

Please support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

Synopsis: You spend your days writing romance, wondering when it will find you. Unaware that it’s right next-door.

You’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as you can remember.

Not the vague kind of wanting, either—the kind that shifts shape every few years. You knew. Even when you were younger, scribbling stories in the margins of notebooks and filling entire pages with feelings you didn’t yet have words for, you knew this was what you wanted to do. You were always drawn to love stories. To the way emotions could be stretched, heightened, made beautiful on the page. You liked the idea of writing something that made people feel… things.

So you grew up and did it. You became a writer. A romance writer, of all things.

You sit in your chair now, feet tucked beneath you, laptop warm against your thighs, and watch the cursor blink at the top of a blank page. This part should be easy. It always is. You know how to write longing. You know how to pace desire, how to make a single look feel like a promise. You know how to build a love story that burns slow and ends soft.

What you don’t know—what you never quite figured out—is how to live one.

You scoff quietly and lean back, the chair creaking in the silence of your apartment. Another night, another deadline, another fictional couple about to fall into each other’s arms right on schedule. Meanwhile, the room around you is still, unromantic in a way that feels almost deliberate. You’re still in your pajama pants. The coffee on your desk has gone cold. The crumpled papers spilling out of your trash can. Dirty dishes piling on your sink.

You write bestselling romance novels under a pseudonym. Spicy ones. The kind that get passed around group chats and dog-eared on bedside tables. Readers tell you your stories feel real. They assume you must know exactly what you’re talking about—love, intimacy, being the one true love and all.

They don’t know your name. Not the real one, at least. They don’t know that the person behind the words is sitting alone in an apartment that smells faintly of stale coffee, wondering when exactly her life veered so far from the stories she’s so good at telling.

You stare at the paragraph you wrote earlier and feel something twist in your chest. You highlight it and press delete.

Your life has never looked like this. No grand gestures, no cinematic confessions. Just routines and deadlines and the dull, persistent awareness that you are very good at writing romance and very bad at finding it.

The cursor blinks, wating. You exhale slowly, fingers hovering over the keys, and try to convince yourself that this is enough. That wanting something since you were young doesn’t mean you’re entitled to all of it. That writing about love still counts, even if it doesn’t happen to you.

Still, the thought lingers, quietly and uncomfortably.

You always believed in romance. You just didn’t expect it to feel so far away.

-

Once you’ve done the dishes, you feel a lot better and ready to get back to work.

You open a new document beneath the abandoned chapter and type a name you’ll probably change later. Male Lead. Placeholder. Temporary. You crack your knuckles and try again.

He needs to exist first, you tell yourself. The rest will follow.

You close your eyes for a second, letting the image form the way it usually does. You imagines a man leaning against a doorway. Rings on his fingers. Ink curling up his forearms like secrets he doesn’t bother hiding. There’s an ease to him, a confidence that isn’t loud but feels inevitable. Someone who looks like trouble in the way that makes people lean closer instead of stepping back.

Your fingers move as you picture him. You give him a crooked smile, a voice that carries a laugh even when he’s serious. You imagine the way he’d look at the his love interest like he already knows how the story ends.

There’s a faint thrill in your chest, the familiar hum of creation, of possibility. This is the part you’re good at—building someone from nothing, shaping desire until it feels real enough to touch.

Then, your phone rings. You flinch, eyes snapping open, the image dissolving instantly. The name on the screen pulls you fully back into your apartment, your chair, your life.

Hyunjin.

You answer without thinking. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, sounding a little breathless, like he’s juggling things. You can picture him with the phone tucked between shoulder and ear, one hand on the espresso machine, the other probably reaching for a cup. “I hate to ask you last minute, but—are you busy?”

You glance at your laptop, at the half-formed man on the screen who will still be there later. “Not really.”

“Could you maybe pick up Archie from daycare?” he asks. “I got held up at the shop. Delivery issue. I’ll owe you. Again.”

You smile before you can stop yourself. “You already owe me, like, ten times.”

“I’ll make it eleven.”

You laugh softly, pushing your chair back as you stand. “Yeah, I can do that. I was going to take a break anyway.”

“That’d be amazing,” he says, relief clear in his voice. “Thank you. He’s probably been asking when you’ll show up.”

“He always does,” you say, fondness slipping in uninvited. Archie has a habit of spotting you before anyone else, face lighting up like you’re part of his routine—which, somehow, you are. “I’ll head out now.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Hyunjin says. “Seriously.”

“I know,” you teasingly reply with a sly smile.

You hang up and grab your keys, casting one last look at the screen before closing your laptop. The male lead stares back at you, unfinished, waiting.

-

The walk to the daycare is short, just a few blocks away, but you take your time anyway. The air outside feels cleaner than the stale quiet of your apartment, the city moving at a gentle, late-afternoon pace around you. You pass familiar storefronts, cracked sidewalks you’ve memorized without meaning to, and you feel your shoulders loosen with every step.

Picking up Archie is always like this—an excuse to step out of your head.

By the time you reach the daycare, you’re already smiling, and it only grows when you spot him inside. He sees you before you even open the door, face lighting up so brightly it almost feels unfair to everything you were brooding over an hour ago.

“You came!” he says again, like it’s a surprise every single time.

“Hi, Archie,” you softly greet, crouching down as he barrels into you, all elbows and enthusiasm. His laugh is loud and unfiltered, the kind that doesn’t worry about being too much.

Archie is a mini version of Hyunjin — dark shiny hair, small eyes, small face and even the whisker dimples that appears when he deeply smiles. In other words, he’s just as beautiful as his dad and you doubt that the mother had any part in it except for brought Archie to the world.

Walking home with Archie is your favorite part. He slips his small hand into yours, swinging it slightly as you head down the sidewalk together. The sun is lower now, bathing everything in a soft, forgiving light and he starts talking almost immediately.

“And today we had painting time,” he says, words tumbling over each other, “and Miss Laura said mine was very good but I got paint on my shirt but that’s okay because it was blue and blue is Daddy’s favorite color and then—oh!—and then we played dinosaurs and I was the big one and Leo was scared but not really scared—”

You hum and nod, letting him ramble, asking small questions at the right moments.

There’s something precious about the way he talks, like every detail matters because it does to him. His excitement is infectious, pure and uncomplicated, untouched by expectations or disappointment. You listen intently, smiling when he laughs at his own story, when he stops mid-sentence because he’s remembered something even more important.

Archie’s world is simple in the best way. Today was good. He painted. He played. He laughed.

That’s enough.

As he talks, something inside you quiets and all of your worries fade into the background. This easy companionship, this small joy — feels like a kind of rest you didn’t realize you needed.

A mental snooze, you think, smiling to yourself.

By the time the apartment building comes into view, Archie is still talking, still animated, still very much five years old and wholly himself. You squeeze his hand gently, grateful for the break, for the moment, for the way something so simple can make the world feel softer.

You don’t think about romance once on the walk home and maybe that’s exactly why it feels so good.

-

You let yourselves into Hyunjin’s apartment with the spare key he gave you months ago. Archie kicks off his shoes by the door without being told, backpack abandoned in the exact spot it always ends up. You follow suit, slipping out of yours and setting your bag down, already moving through the space like it’s your own apartment.

You know his routine by heart at this point. Snack first—apple slices today, because that’s what he asked for on the walk home. Wash hands. Cartoon on low volume while he settles. By the time you pull the coloring book from the drawer in the coffee table, he’s already climbing onto the rug beside you, crayons scattered between you like confetti. You stay with him like this while the afternoon drifts into evening, coloring shapes that don’t stay inside the lines and praising every choice like it’s the right one. Archie narrates as he goes, explaining why the dinosaur is purple today and why the sun has a face.

The front door opens just as you’re deciding whether the sky should be green or blue.

“Daddy’s home,” Archie announces casually, not bothering to look up.

Hyunjin steps inside, the door closing behind him with a tired sigh. His long dark hair is pulled into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, loose strands escaping around his small face. His shirt is wrinkled, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, forearms dusted with coffee grounds and the evidence of a long day. He looks exhausted in that specific way that only comes from being on your feet since dawn.

The fatigue softens instantly when he sees you and Archie, a warm smile spreading across his face as his eyes move from you to his son sprawled happily at your side. “Hey,” he says gently. “Daddy’s home.”

“Hi, Daddy,” Archie replies, still coloring, still firmly seated next to you.

Hyunjin pouts from the lack of enthusiasm. “That’s it? No running hug? No ‘Daddy!’?”

Archie hums thoughtfully, switching crayons. “I’m busy coloring, Daddy.”

You bite back a smile while picking the color of the crayons.

Hyunjin drops his keys onto the counter and makes a show of sighing. “Wow. I see how it is.”

You keep coloring, glancing up at him briefly. “Tough crowd.”

He crosses his arms, pretending to think. “Well, I guess if you’re too busy to say hi, maybe you’re also too busy to have your favorite food for dinner.”

Archie gasps, drops the crayon, and scrambles to his feet, sprinting across the room. He crashes straight into Hyunjin’s legs, arms wrapping around him without hesitation.

“No! I want it! I want it!” he insists.

Hyunjin laughs, the sound easy and unguarded, and squats down to gather his son into a proper hug, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Who wants chicken noodles for dinner?”

“Me! Me! Me!” Archie enthusiastically shouts, raising his hand in the air.

Hyunjin presses a quick kiss to his temple and then brushes the hair stuck to his forehead. “Then tell me about your day.”

Archie launches right back into his stories, just as animated as before, hands gesturing wildly as Hyunjin listens, nodding, murmuring encouragement, entirely focused.

You watch them for a moment, something warm blooming quietly in your chest but decide to interrupt.

“Hey, do I get chicken noodles for dinner too?”

Hyunjin looks up at you, still crouched, still smiling. “Of course.”

“Yay!” you and Archie cheer at the same time, voices overlapping.

-

Dinner is easy in the way only familiar things are.

Hyunjin sits across from you, shoulders slumping a little now that the day is over. He looks softer like this, hair still in its messy bun, exhaustion worn openly instead of tucked away behind customer smiles and polite conversation. He thanks Archie for waiting before taking his first bite, listens patiently as his son talks with his mouth half-full, gently reminds him to chew.

Hyunjin wasn’t always this version of himself. You know that. Two years ago, before you moved into this building, his life cracked open. A divorce that didn’t explode but still left wreckage. A toddler who suddenly became his whole world. He doesn’t talk about it often, only in small, honest pieces when it comes up naturally. You know enough to understand that it wasn’t bitter—just sad. That sometimes things don’t survive, even when people try. You fall in love and that means, you can fall out of love too.

Now he’s a single dad, doing his best, owning a coffee shop three blocks away. The place is an extension of him—warm, welcoming, unpretentious. The kind of café where people linger without being rushed, where names are remembered and regulars are greeted like friends.

That’s how you met him, actually.

Your first day in the apartment building, arms full of boxes and memories, the knock came before you’d even figured out where the mugs went. Hyunjin stood outside your door with a basket of pastries balanced on one arm and two cups of coffee in the other, Archie tucked against his leg like a shadow.

“Hi, we’re your next-door neighbors,” he’d said, smiling a little shyly.

“I’m Hyunjin and this…” he placed a hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “This is my son, Archie.”

You remembered offering a warm smile at them as you introduced yourself back to them. Then, you crouched down to his Archie’s level to greet him. “Hi, Archie. I hope we can be friends.”

Archie had taken one look at you and decided, immediately, that you were safe. He’d clung to your leg like you’d known each other forever, peeking up at you with wide eyes while Hyunjin apologized profusely. You hadn’t minded. Not even a little.

Somehow, that moment became the foundation for everything that followed. You’ve been living next to each other in quiet harmony ever since—borrowing things, sharing food, watching Archie when shifts run late. It was never something you sat down and defined. It just… happened. Slowly. Naturally.

After dinner, Archie sits patiently while you dab at the sauce smeared around his mouth with a napkin. He squirms, protesting more out of habit than anything else, and you laugh quietly as you catch the last stubborn streak on his chin.

“All clean now,” you announce.

Hyunjin is already moving around the kitchen, stacking plates, rinsing them before setting them in the sink. The space feels smaller when he’s in it—occupied in a comforting way. You stand halfway, instinctively ready to help.

“I’ve got it,” he assures you.

You hesitate, then settle back into your chair, watching as he works.

There’s something unhurried about the way he does things, even when he’s tired. He doesn’t rush through motions; he finishes them properly.

“Archie,” he says gently, glancing over his shoulder. “Wash up and change into your pajamas, yeah?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Archie replies, sliding off the chair and padding down the hallway.

The apartment goes quieter once he’s gone, the absence noticeable in the best way. Hyunjin turns back to you. “Coffee?”

You tilt your head, considering. “Actually… do you have something harder?”

He snorts, entirely unimpressed. “Decaf it is.”

You chuckle softly. “I didn’t say yes to that.”

“You didn’t say no either,” he counters, already reaching for the coffee canister.

You watch him as he scoops the beans into the grinder, measuring by instinct rather than sight. His sleeves are still rolled up, forearms relaxed as he grinds the coffee patiently, listening to the sound like it tells him when it’s ready. He pours the grounds into the filter, taps it just once to level it, then slowly starts pouring hot water over it. The coffee blooms, dark and rich, dripping steadily into the pot.

Hyunjin is handsome in a way that sneaks up on you. Not flashy. Just… solid. Familiar. His profile softened by concentration, his movements careful and practiced. You’ve watched him do this countless times, but it still feels oddly hypnotic—like witnessing a ritual.

You lean your chin into your hand. “You know,” you say lightly, “you could just give me instant coffee and save yourself the trouble.”

He looks at you like you’ve personally offended him. “Where’s the romance in that?”

You scoff and lean back on your chair. “Pfft… Romance? But that’s my job. I’m the one who writes romance books, and look at me.”

That earns his attention as if he’s just remembered something. “How’s the writing going? Did you start the new one yet?” he asks, tone casual but curious.

“Barely. I keep trying, but everything feels off. Ideas slip away before I can grab them.” You hesitate, then sigh. “I think it’s because my life lacks romance.”

Hyunjin hums, noncommittal, as he pours the coffee into two mugs.

“I’ve been single for years,” you continue, words spilling easier now. “I barely go out. I sit at home and write about love all day, and the only thing I share my bed with is my laptop. There’s nothing romantic about that.”

“What you do is romantic,” he says calmly, handing you a mug.

You roll your eyes. “My readers would think I’m a fraud if they knew who I really am. How I live.”

He smiles at that, unfazed. “So what do you expect to happen, then?”

You take a sip, thinking. “I don’t know. I just think that it’d be a good time for my dream man to walk into my life.”

He chuckles, almost teasing. “What, a knight in shining armor? A prince on a white horse?”

You glare at him. “Dead wrong.”

“Oh?” He leans against the counter, amused. His eyes are on you, giving all of his attention.

You straighten slightly, warming to the idea. “Someone different. Someone confident. I don’t mind a tattoo or two. Piercings, maybe. Creative. A little reckless. Someone who feels like he stepped out of a story.”

Hyunjin laughs. “I’ve got at least three regulars like that at the shop.”

“I am not shopping for men at your coffee shop,” you say, scandalized.

Before he can reply, small footsteps thunder down the hallway.

Archie reappears in a dinosaur onesie, arms raised proudly. “Look!”

You coo immediately, setting your mug down and kneeling. “Oh my god. You’re too cute.”

You lean back just enough to take a good look at Archie, noticing the way he’s almost outgrown the onesie — proof of how much he’s grown. “Please, stop growing up! You have to stay like this forever,” you murmur as you pull him for tight hug.

“No!” Archie protests. “I wanna be big. Bigger than Daddy.”

You shake your head firmly. “Nope. I forbid it.”

He whines dramatically. “Daddy!”

Hyunjin laughs, scooping him up. “Sorry, baby. She’s got veto power.”

You grin, then stand as you realize it’s time for you to leave so the boys can settle gently into the night. “I should head back. You’ve got bedtime duty.”

You hug Archie tightly, wishing him goodnight, then turn to Hyunjin. “Goodnight.”

You walk up to the counter, picking up the mug to take it home with you.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin says quietly. “For today.”

“No worries,” you reply while raising the mug of coffee. “I live right there.”

It really is just across the hall.

Your apartment greets you with its familiar clutter—notes, books, your open laptop waiting where you left it. You sigh, sinking back into your chair, fingers finding the keyboard again.

This time, you don’t scoff. You take a sip of your coffee and start to write.

-

Morning arrives with a dull knock cutting through the haze of sleep.

You groan, lifting your head with effort, neck stiff from the angle you fell asleep in. Your chair creaks as you shift, and the screen in front of you flickers awake when your knee nudges the desk. The cursor blinks insistently in the middle of a paragraph, proof that you were writing right up until sleep claimed you without permission.

Figures.

The knocking comes again, firmer this time. You glance at the clock on your screen and wince. Too early. Definitely too early. You scrub a hand over your face and push yourself up, legs protesting as you stand. Your reflection in the darkened laptop screen is… rough. Bed hair pointing in every direction, yesterday’s clothes wrinkled and clinging, glasses still abandoned somewhere on the desk.

“Coming,” you call out, voice hoarse with sleep.

You gather your hair into a messy bun with one hand, shove your glasses onto your nose with the other, and shuffle toward the door, bare feet dragging softly across the wooden floor. In your foggy head, the picture is already formed—Hyunjin on the other side, coffee in hand, apologetic smile ready, probably here because he needs your help to take Archie to kindergarten.

The knock comes again.

“I said—coming,” you mumble, fingers fumbling with the lock.

You twist the knob and pull the door open. You freeze because it is not… Hyunjin.

It’s someone else entirely. Someone with a gummy smile, leaning casually against the doorframe like he’s got nowhere else to be. Someone with overgrown dark, permed hair falling into his eyes, silver glinting faintly at his ears. Tattoos peek out from the sleeveless top he’s wearing, ink curling along skin like it belongs there. He looks awake in a way you decidedly are not—alert, amused, taking you in with a slow, curious glance.

For one disorienting second, you wonder if you’re still asleep at your desk.

“Uh,” he says, lips quirking. “Hi, I’m your new neighbor.”

Your brain lags behind the moment, scrambling to catch up. Glasses slightly crooked. Hair a mess. Heart doing something inconvenient.

This—this is impossible.

Because standing in front of you, framed by the hallway light, is someone who looks alarmingly like the man you were imagining just hours ago.

The dream man.

-

For a second, you just stare at him.

Your brain refuses to cooperate, still caught somewhere between sleep and the impossible coincidence unfolding in front of you. He shifts his weight slightly, waiting, the hallway light catching on the silver at his ears.

“I’m Han,” he says, like this is normal. Like he didn’t just step straight out of your half-written chapter.

“I moved in just now. Next door.” He gestures vaguely toward the apartment beside yours. “I was wondering—do you happen to have a hammer I could borrow?”

A hammer. The word floats around uselessly in your head.

“Oh—uh—yeah,” you say finally, far too late. “I think so. I mean. I think I do. Somewhere.”

Without giving him time to respond or yourself time to think, you turn and retreat back into your apartment.

The door closes behind you, and you stop in the kitchen, gripping the counter. You glance at your reflection in the microwave door and immediately regret every life choice that led you here. Messy bun threatening to collapse. Glasses slightly crooked. Old, faded T-shirt. Bare feet. Absolutely not the first impression you imagined giving your dream man. You groan softly, then remember—he’s still waiting.

Right. Hammer.

You drop to your knees and rummage through the bottom cabinet, dragging out a dusty toolbox you don’t even remember buying or having. You flip it open, hopeful for half a second. No hammer.

You sigh, push yourself up, and head back to the door. Han is still there, patient waiting with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, flustered all over again. “I don’t actually have one. But—I know someone who does.”

He smiles easily. “Lead the way.”

You cross the hall before you can overthink it, unlocking Hyunjin’s door and letting yourself in like you always do.

Hyunjin is at the counter, packing Archie’s lunch into his backpack with practiced efficiency. “Hey,” he says without looking up. “Coffee’s—”

You clear your throat. “Uh—Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin turns and pauses when he sees someone else with you.

Han steps forward slightly. “Hey. I’m Han. The new neighbor.”

Hyunjin blinks once, then smiles politely. “I’m Hyunjin. And this is Archie.”

Archie looks up from the sofa where he’s wrestling with his socks. “Hi,” he says cheerfully.

Han waves. “Hey, man.”

“I just needed to borrow a hammer,” Han adds.

“Sure, just give me a second,” Hyunjin says immediately, already heading down the hallway.

While he’s gone, you suddenly find the ceiling very interesting. The floor, too. Anywhere but Han. You drift over to Archie instead, crouching down to help him tug his sock over his heel.

“Your sock’s inside out, buddy,” you murmur.

“It’s fine,” Archie says seriously.

Hyunjin returns with the hammer, handing it over. “Bring it back whenever.”

“Thanks,” Han says. “Appreciate it.”

Then he’s gone, door closing softly behind him.

The second it clicks shut, you straighten and practically vibrate.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” you freak out, flailing your hands and pacing the room.

“Did you see him?” you whisper fiercely. “Hyunjin, that’s him. That’s exactly him. I literally described someone like that last night. Tattoos, piercings—this could be it. This could actually be it. Romance might finally be—”

Hyunjin doesn’t say much, moving around the apartment, grabbing Archie’s jacket, checking his bag. You keep talking anyway, words tumbling out unchecked.

“And the timing? He just shows up? Like that?”

He finally stops, crouching to help Archie into his shoes. “You can tell me the rest later,” he says gently. “We’re going to be late.”

“Oh. Right.”

He gestures toward the counter where the coffee pot rests. “Coffee’s fresh.”

Archie hops off the sofa and walks over to you. “Bye.”

You kneel and hug him tight. “Have the best day, okay?”

“Okay!”

Hyunjin grabs his hat and jacket, ushering Archie toward the door. “Don’t forget to lock up,” he says to you.

“I won’t. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

The door closes behind them, leaving the apartment quiet again. You stand there for a moment, coffee steaming on the counter, heart still racing.

Next door, somewhere beyond the wall, Han exists.

And suddenly, romance doesn’t feel so far away after all.

-

The next few days pass in a strange, quiet blur.

You don’t mean to observe him at first. It just… happens.

You start noticing patterns the way you always do when you’re building a character—small details that stack up without you realizing you’re collecting them. The sound of a door opening down the hall. Footsteps on the stairs. A low hum of music bleeding faintly through the walls at odd hours.

Han leaves his apartment late in the mornings, usually when you’re already awake but pretending not to be. You learn this by accident the first time, standing in your kitchen with a mug of coffee cooling in your hands when you hear his door open. You peek through the peephole without thinking, and catch a glimpse of him slipping his jacket on, keys already in hand.

After that, you notice it more.

Some days he leaves closer to noon, hair still damp like he showered in a rush. Other days, it’s earlier, sunglasses perched on his head even when the sun isn’t particularly bright. There’s a guitar case slung over his shoulder more often than not, stickers peeling at the edges like it’s been everywhere with him. Not sure if he plays guitar as a hobby or it’s his job or… he’s in a band. Either way, you like the fact that he plays guitar.

Then, you start recognizing the sound of his return, too. The way he unlocks his door without fumbling. Sometimes it’s early evening. Sometimes it’s well past midnight, the hallway quiet and dim when he finally comes home. On those nights, music filters faintly through the wall—something fast and chaotic, not loud enough to be intrusive, just present enough to let you know he’s there.

You pass him in the hallway once, hands full of groceries. He flashes you an easy smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply, a little too quickly.

Another time, you’re both waiting for the elevator. He smells faintly of smoke and soap, a combination that shouldn’t work but does. He asks how your day’s been. You say “good” even though you’ve spent most of it staring at a blinking cursor.

Sometimes you hear him humming under his breath when he locks up. Sometimes he nods at you with a tired grin, like you’re already familiar.

Nothing progresses. Nothing happens. But you notice everything anyway.

The days settle into a rhythm that now includes him, threaded quietly through your routine. You find yourself timing your coffee refills, your trips out, your walks to the mailbox, hoping that you might run into him. Sometimes you do. Sometimes you don’t.

At night, when you sit back down at your desk to write, the male lead in your book starts to look a little different. His habits more specific. His movements more familiar. You tell yourself it’s coincidence.

Still, when you hear Han’s door click shut down the hall, you pause mid-sentence every time.

Just for a second. Just long enough to wonder.

-

By the third day, you stop pretending it’s accidental. You know his timing now—give or take five minutes. So you wait by your door, already dressed, laptop bag slung over your shoulder like an alibi. You ditch your glasses in favor of contacts, smooth your hair, take one last look at yourself in the mirror. Different. Awake. Presentable. The kind of person who looks like they might casually exist in the same world as someone like Han.

You intently listen through the door and right on cue, you hear the soft click of a lock down the hall.

You give it two seconds, just enough to make it believable and then step out into the hallway, locking your door behind you with practiced ease. You keep your face calm as you press the elevator button.

Against the pulse drumming in your ear, you can hear his footsteps approaching.

“Hey,” Han says first, voice easy.

You turn, heart jumping anyway. “Hey.”

The elevator arrives with a soft ding. He steps aside, holding the door for you. “After you.”

“Thanks,” you mutter as you step in, standing a little too straight as he follows.

The doors slide shut, and suddenly it’s just the two of you, enclosed in a space that feels far too small for how aware you are of him. Silence settles and you can only hope he can’t hear the way your heart beating out of your chest.

You inhale quietly, then force yourself to speak. “That’s a guitar, right?” you ask, gesturing toward the case on his back.

He glances over his shoulder, lips twitching. “Yeah. I’m in a band. Kinda lame, though.”

You chuckle despite yourself. “I don’t believe you.”

He grins. “Yeah, me neither.”

The elevator hums as it descends. He looks at you. “You heading somewhere?”

“Yeah,” you say, grateful for the question. “Going to do some writing at the coffee shop.”

“Oh.” He raises his brows. “You’re a writer?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“What kind of stuff?”

To say that you write romance kind of… uncool. You hesitate for half a beat—just long enough to decide. “Just some lame books.”

He laughs, the sound warm and unguarded. “Welcome to the club then.”

The elevator chimes, doors sliding open onto the lobby. He steps out first this time, glancing back at you. “Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Outside, you part ways—him heading down the street in the opposite direction, guitar case bouncing lightly against his back. You turn toward Hyunjin’s coffee shop, heart still racing, a smile you don’t bother hiding tugging at your lips.

Nothing monumental happened. No sparks. No declarations. But it feels like a win anyway.

You know something new about him now and somehow, impossibly, he feels even cooler than before.

-

Madeleine has been a staple of the friendship between you and Hyunjin. He brought a basket full of them when he first introduced himself to you and you gushed to him about how delicious they were the next day.

Since then, Hyunjin always has madeleines waiting for you in the coffee shop, baked specially for you. He slides a tray onto your table with a soft clatter—still warm and dusted lightly with sugar, a cup of freshly brewed coffee steaming beside them. He’s in his apron, sleeves rolled up, dark hair tied into a messy bun that’s halfway given up after the morning rush.

“So,” you start immediately, leaning forward like you’ve been holding this in your lungs the entire walk here, “I talked to him.”

“Mhm,” Hyunjin hums, already turning to grab a stack of abandoned mugs from the table next to yours.

“In the elevator,” you add. “Casual. Natural. Effortless. Very rom-com coded.”

“That’s great,” he says, distracted, balancing cups in his hands.

“And he’s in a band,” you continue, lowering your voice like it’s a secret meant only for the two of you. “A band, Hyunjin.”

He pauses just long enough to glance at you. “Is he?”

“Yes. Guitar. Very cool about it too. Like, oh, this old thing energy.”

Hyunjin exhales through his nose, amused despite himself, and resumes gathering dishes. “And you’re already sure he’s your great romance?”

You nod emphatically. “I know.”

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious now.

You blink at him. “Duh. I’m a romance writer.”

He snorts. “Right.”

“I can feel these things,” you insist. “The timing. The vibe. The guitar case. It’s all very—meet-cute adjacent.”

Hyunjin sets the cups down behind the counter and looks at you. “So are you actually planning to write today, or did you just come here to gush about Han?”

“I am writing,” you defend quickly. “I just need inspiration first.”

He arches a brow. “Does that mean you came here just because you wanted to run into him again?”

You grin, unrepentant. “I came for multiple reasons.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And one of them,” you add, reaching for a madeleine and taking a bite, “is your coffee. And these. Which are amazing, by the way.”

That finally gets him—a small smile tugging at his mouth despite the skepticism. “Flattery won’t save you.”

A customer steps up to the counter, and Hyunjin straightens, slipping smoothly back into barista mode. “Be right with you,” he says before glancing back at you. “Write something. Don’t just stare at your screen.”

“I’m trying,” you shoot back.

He shakes his head fondly and turns away. You open your laptop, the familiar glow lighting up the table, coffee warm under your hands, crumbs dusting the page of your notebook.

You let Hyunjin fade into the background again—the soft hiss of the espresso machine, the clink of ceramic, the low murmur of the shop settling into its late-morning rhythm. Your fingers finally move, words spilling onto the screen in uneven but earnest lines. It’s not perfect, but it’s something, and something is better than the blinking cursor that haunted you all night.

You’re mid-sentence when a ripple of giggles drifts in from the table beside yours.

“…I’m telling you, he’s so handsome.”

“And a single dad,” another voice adds, breathless. “That’s, like, illegal.”

You quietly glance over the next table, two girls leaning close, whispering like they’re sharing state secrets, eyes flicking not-so-subtly toward the counter where Hyunjin stands as he warmly chats with a customer. He laughs at something, head tipping back just slightly, and the girls nearly lose it.

You press your lips together, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Of course. Of course Hyunjin draws this kind of attention. He exists in soft mornings and warm smiles and freshly brewed coffee. He lives romance without trying, while you—ironically, tragically—sit here writing about it like it’s a distant myth.

A flicker of jealousy settles in your chest, gentle but undeniable. Funny, isn’t it? You think. The one who writes love stories hasn’t lived one in years, while the man steaming milk three feet away inspires them just by existing.

-

Archie’s hand is warm and a little sticky in yours as you walk him to kindergarten, his backpack bouncing with every step. He’s talking about a game they played yesterday, about how today he might get to be the line leader—and you hum and respond at all the right places, smiling because this is easy. This part always is.

You stop just outside the gate where his teacher is already waiting, clipboard tucked under her arm, cheerful as ever. She greets Archie by name, and he lights up like he’s been waiting all morning for this exact moment.

You crouch down, smoothing his hair with your palm before pulling him into a hug. “Have fun, okay?” you say softly.

“I will!” he promises, already half-turned toward his friends. He waves at you with all the enthusiasm a five-year-old can muster before being gently ushered inside, and you wave back until he disappears through the door.

Only then do you straighten, exhaling. As you start the walk home, you pull out your phone and text Hyunjin.

Archie’s in school. Safe and happy.

You don’t expect an instant reply, knowing that Hyunjin will be too busy to even check his phone. You slip the phone back into your pocket and continue down the sidewalk. Enjoying the way the city quiets down as most people have already settled into their routine — work, school, business to do.

You slow when you see a hair salon sits on the corner, the owner flipping the sign on the front door to ‘Open’. You glance at your reflection in the glass without meaning to—messy bun, familiar length, the same look you’ve had for… how long, exactly?

The thought lands quietly, then blooms. Maybe it’s time for a fresh cut.

Not because of certain someone. Not because of a guitarist next door or the way your heart keeps doing stupid things lately. You scoff under you breath, shaking your head.

Before you can overthink it, or talk yourself out of it, you reach for the handle and step inside.

Almost an hour later, you walk out of the salon feeling… lighter and also strangely exposed.

The cut sits differently against your neck, unfamiliar when the breeze slips past it. You keep catching your reflection in car windows as you walk—tilting your head, squinting, deciding you don’t hate it, deciding you’re not sure yet.

Maybe it’s just the shock of seeing yourself altered. Maybe it’s the quiet fear that you’ve changed something you can’t quite take back.

You check your phone and find a reply from Hyunjin.

Your treats are ready, ma’am.

-

The café is calmer than the morning rush—no frantic office workers lined up three-deep, just a handful of people lingering at tables. Someone reads a newspaper by the window. Someone else scrolls on their phone, coffee cooling between their palms.

You step inside and wait at the counter while Hyunjin finishes filling an order. He moves with practiced ease, apron tied snug around his waist, hair pulled into that familiar messy bun that always looks like it took zero effort and somehow still works.

When he finally looks up, he pauses just a second too long. But you catch it immediately.

Your hand flies to your hair. “Why? Is it bad?” you blurt out before he can say anything.

Hyunjin tilts his head, still can’t decide.

Your insecurity creeps in. “That bad?” You ask, anxiously touching your hair.

Hyunjin blinks, then shakes his head. “No. It looks good on you. You look beautiful.”

The knot in your chest loosens almost instantly. You smile, small and a little shy, fingers still brushing the ends of your hair. “Thanks.”

He reaches under the counter and pulls out a tray, the smell of freshly baked madeleines drifting up between you. “What do you feel today? Milk or no milk?” he asks, knowing that your coffee’s preference is based on your mood.

An idea comes to mind at the sight of the warm, sweet-smelling madeleine. You hesitate but before you can second-guess yourself, you shake your head.

“Actually, can you pack those to go? And… make two coffees?”

Hyunjin arches a brow, curious but amused. “Two?”

You nod, feeling something spark under your skin. Determination, maybe. Or nerves. Or both.

“I’m done waiting for romance to happen,” you say, half-joking, half-serious. “I think I want to try making it happen instead.”

Hyunjin studies you for a moment—really looks at you, at the new haircut, the way you’re standing a little taller than usual.

Then he smiles as he repeats your order. “Romance to go, coming right up!”

-

Your palms are a little sweaty around the paper bag and the two coffee cups as you stand outside Han’s unit, heart thudding like it’s trying to break free of your ribs.

You rehearse a few openings in your head. Something cool, something effortless, something that says it’s all casual instead of the fact that you’ve been overthinking it for ten minutes straight.

After a moment, you settle simple. Hey, I came here to drop these.

You mentally rehearsed the sentence in your head. You inhale, then knock.

You can hear music bleeding through the door, it’s loud and chaotic, it’s impossible for him to hear you knocking. You knock again, louder this time. Still nothing. By the third knock, you’re practically pounding.

Finally, the door swings open. Han smiles the moment he recognizes you.

“Hey, I—”

But then he turns and walks back inside, door left open behind him. No explanation, no pause.

You stand there for half a second, wondering if you’re supposed to follow or… You settle on the former, stepping into his apartment on hesitant feet.

It’s… exactly what you expect. Bare in places, cluttered in others. A guitar leaning against the wall. Jackets tossed over a chair. A very single-man kind of space.

He crosses the room and turns the volume down on the record player, the music softening into something you can finally hear without it rattling your bones.

“Sorry,” he says over his shoulder. “Didn’t hear you knocking.”

“It’s fine,” you reply quickly, trying to sound like you didn’t nearly talk yourself out of this. Your eyes drift to the record player. “What’re you listening to?”

“It’s one of my favorite bands.” He lifts the sleeve so you can see it.

Sex Jerkers. The band name makes your eyebrow raises for a second, definitely never heard of them. You lean in anyway, nodding like this is extremely familiar territory.

When he straightens, he looks at you expectantly. “So… can I help you with something?”

Right. This. The reason you’re here.

 “I came here to drop these,” you say it casually like you didn’t rehearse it in your head for the last ten minutes. “Coffee and some warm madeleines.”

“Oh—thanks. That’s really nice of you.” His expression softens, gesturing toward the counter. “You can put them there.”

You do, carefully setting everything down. And then… nothing. Your mission is complete. You hover, suddenly aware that you hadn’t planned beyond deliver baked goods. Well, you kind of imagined that he’d tell you to have a set and enjoy the goods together.

But Han is pacing now, grabbing his keys, checking his phone. Definitely getting ready to leave.

“Are you heading out?” you ask, aiming for casual again.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m late for band practice.”

“Oh,” you reply, nodding. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”

You turn toward the door, ready to make a graceful exit—only to stop short.

Han pulls his T-shirt over his head like you’re not even there. Not even the slightest bit of hesitance. Then, it’s just skin, warm and honey skin—toned, solid, tattoos spilling over his right shoulder and down his side. Too bad you can’t read the rest of the tattoo as it’s disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans that is… slung low… on his hips. Your eyes pivot to the way his pelvic bones narrowing down to—

You gulp and look away immediately. “Sorry—sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

He chuckles, soft and easy. He grabs a clean T-shirt and seamlessly puts it on. “I should be the one apologizing. Didn’t exactly treat you like a proper guest. I’m in a bit of a rush.”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, mortified and flustered and very aware of your pulse. You step toward the door to get out of his way.

He grabs the coffee cup, lifting it slightly. “I’ll eat the cookies later. Thanks again.”

You nod, mumble something that might be no problem, and the two of you step out into the hallway together. You move toward your door, suddenly very invested in unlocking it slowly and calmly like a normal person.

Before you can, Han steps closer and gently catches your arm. The contact is brief—but it sends a jolt straight through you.

“Next time,” he says, raising the coffee cup with a grin, “it’s my treat.”

Then he’s gone, striding toward the elevator. The doors slide shut, and he flashes you one last smile before disappearing.

You wait until you’re safely inside your apartment to let out a squeal.

God. That was a rush.

You press your hand to your arm where he touched you, where the warmth lingers, skin buzzing like it’s been struck by lightning.

And a tad bit romantic.

-

Your desk feels familiar again, the half-finished sentence blinking patiently at you like it knows you’ll come back eventually.

Out of curiosity, purely out of curiosity—you open a browser tab and type in the band name Han mentioned. You click the first result and—

Chaos.

Loud, unfiltered, crashing straight into your apartment like it owns the place. It’s messy and raw. You let it play, tapping your fingers against the desk, imagining Han in the middle of it all—guitar slung low, lost in the noise.

You didn’t hear it until you see the door swings open.

“What god-awful sound is that?!”

Hyunjin stands in your doorway, jacket still on, keys dangling from his fingers, face twisted in genuine offense.

You shrug as you stand from your chair, entirely unbothered. “Why? It’s cool.”

His forehead wrinkles like you’ve just spoken another language. He opens his mouth and closes it, then sighs. “Can you turn it down? I need to tell you something.”

You grin and comply, pausing the music. The sudden quiet feels loud in comparison. You turn to face him properly.

“Thanks,” he says, then clears his throat. “So uh…”

“Yeah?” you ask, letting him know he has your full attention.

“Archie has a school play this weekend.”

“Oh,” you say, immediately brightening.

“It’s this Saturday. He asked if you’d come.”

“Yes,” you answer without even thinking.

Hyunjin blinks. “You don’t have to if you’re busy.”

You wave him off. “Romance can wait for a day.”

That earns you a soft, fond chuckle from Hyunjin. He holds his hand out at you, showing you a foil-wrapped packet he’s been holding in his hand.

“What’s this?”

“Egg sandwich,” he says. “Archie asked me to make it. I figured I’d make one for you too.”

The second you feel the warmth and catch a whiff at it, you tear the foil open and take a bite, humming immediately, eyes fluttering a little at how good it is.

“This is so good,” you say, mouth full, completely unashamed.

Hyunjin shakes his head, amused. “Enjoy it.”

He heads back toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “Saturday. Ten a.m.”

“Saturday, ten,” you repeat, still chewing.

You hear his laugh—warm, real—just before the door clicks shut behind him.

You swallow, smile to yourself, and sit back down at your desk, crumbs on your fingers and music still paused on your screen.

Everything feels… full. In a way you hadn’t realized you were missing.

-

You don’t usually dress like this.

Most days, you live in comfort and practicality—things you can sit in for hours, things that don’t demand to be seen. But tonight, you have to put a little effort as you have a meeting with your agent which guarantee an adult conversation that doesn’t involve coffee orders or five-year-old bedtime routines.

You settle on a simple dress, just enough to feel intentional. A little color on your cheeks, concealer to cover the sleep you didn’t get, a swipe of lipstick to brighten the whole look. You study yourself in the mirror for a second longer than usual, then decide it’s good enough.

When you step out into the hallway, the elevator arrives like it’s been summoned on cue.

The doors open to reveal Hyunjin and Archie—hands linked, a grocery bag hooked over Hyunjin’s arm.

“Hold it!” you call, hurrying forward.

Hyunjin reaches out and keeps the doors open without a second thought.

Archie looks up at you, eyes going wide. “You look beautiful. Like a princess,” he says, completely earnest, like it’s the most obvious truth in the world.

You stop short, flustered. “Thank you so much, Archie,” you reply softly, smiling at him.

Hyunjin glances at you but his eyes seem to betray him as they sweep over you, head to toe and back to your face. Something flickers across his face before he masks it with a small smile. “Where are you heading?”

“Meeting my agent,” you say, already stepping into the elevator. “And I’m running a little late.”

“Yeah, right.” He releases the button. “Be safe.”

You nod, lifting a hand in a small wave. “Bye.”

“Bye, bye, Princess!” Archie chirps, waving enthusiastically.

The doors slide shut, leaving them behind.

As the elevator descends, you press your back lightly against the wall, heart still fluttering—not from nerves about the meeting, but from the way Archie’s voice had sounded so sure.

Beautiful. Like a princess.

You breathe out slowly and straighten your shoulders.

Tonight, at least, you believe it.

-

The bar is dim in that intentional way. You sit across from your agent, legs crossed, fingers wrapped around a glass of water you ordered on purpose, laptop bag tucked neatly by your feet.

She flips through her notes while you talk. You tell her about the new book. The premise, the tone, the themes you’re circling. You don’t give away too much, just enough to prove that the story exists, that it has potential, that you’re not stalled even if it sometimes feels like you are.

She listens, nodding, humming thoughtfully. “Okay,” she says eventually, satisfied. “It’s taking shape. I can hear it.”

Relief loosens your shoulders and the meeting winds down quickly after that.

She checks her phone, grimaces. “I’ve got another thing I need to run to.”

“That’s fine,” you say, already gathering your bag.

“But,” she adds, standing, “you’re having a drink before you go.”

“Oh—no, I wasn’t planning to—”

Too late as she steers you toward the bar with a firm hand on your elbow like she’s done this a hundred times before. “Sit,” she says, pointing to a stool.

You sigh but comply, sliding onto the seat. You don’t plan on drinking as you have Archie’s play to attend tomorrow and you can’t show up with a hangover.

She flags down the bartender with a sharp lift of her fingers. “Make her your finest cocktail. And don’t let her leave until she finishes it.”

“I really don’t need—” you start.

Then you hear the bartender’s voice. “Got it.”

You turn on your stool and Han stands behind the bar. Your brain short-circuits so hard you almost laugh.

Your agent doesn’t notice as she’s already slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Enjoy,” she says cheerfully, before disappearing into the crowd.

Han lifts an eyebrow, a slow smirk curling at his lips as recognition settles in. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, eyes locking onto yours.

“Clearly,” you manage.

He reaches for a shaker, smoothly pouring the concoction into it. “Guess I’ve been instructed not to let you escape.”

His gaze flicks back up to you, amused. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You realize, somewhere between the ice clinking in the shaker and the easy way Han moves behind the bar, that you’re barely paying attention to the drink in front of you.

You watch him instead. The way he takes orders, leaning in just enough to hear people over the music. The way his hands work automatically, confident, practiced. He looks like he belongs here in a way that’s different from the next-door neighbor Han, and the contrast makes your chest feel tight in a way you’re still learning to name.

When he finally comes back to you, he glances at your glass. “You haven’t finished it,” he says, mock-serious. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”

Your cheeks warm but you quickly say, “No, the drink is fine.”

You convince him by taking a small sip of it, wincing at the sourness biting at your tongue.

He smirks and tilts his head. He drops his voice just a notch as he adds, “or are you just trying to linger?”

That does it. You straighten on the stool, flustered. “I—no. I mean—yes, it’s good. The drink. It’s good.”

He grins like he’s won something.

“So,” you say, eager to redirect, “do you work here?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he replies. “Lame band by day, lame job by night.”

You laugh. “You really love that word.”

He shrugs. “How about you?”

“I was meeting my agent,” you say. “Talking about my lame book.”

That earns you a soft chuckle. “Seems like we’re both very successful people.”

Somehow, your glass is empty before you realize it. Han notices immediately.

“Another?” he asks.

You hesitate—then decide you’re already here, already buzzed, already smiling more than usual. You’re sure one more drink won’t be a problem. “Okay. Just one more.”

He makes it while looking at you this time, not rushing, like there’s nowhere else he needs to be. When he’s done, he grabs another glass and pours something for himself.

“Wait,” he says.

You pause with your hand wrapped around the glass.

“I’ll be drinking with you this time,” he says, taking a glass and pouring liquor into it.

He raises his glass toward you. “Cheers.”

You clink glasses, take a sip, feel warmth bloom low in your chest.

“So,” he says, leaning forward on the counter, close enough that you can see the little mole on his cheek, “you gonna tell me about this book?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the dim lights. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you like he actually wants to know.

You smile, slow and teasing. “If I tell you,” you say as you lean forward, “I’d have to kill you.”

He laughs and it’s loud and unguarded. “Didn’t know you were like this.”

You bite your lip, surprised at yourself too. “Neither did I.”

And for the first time, you realize you’re not pretending.

This version of you—the one flirting back, the one lingering on a barstool, the one letting romance exist without trying to write it into shape—she’s real and she’s having fun.

The flirting settles into something easy from there. Small smiles, lingering looks, the kind of banter that hums quietly beneath the noise of the bar. Han leans in when he talks to you. You laugh a little more than usual. Time slips by without either of you really noticing.

When he gestures toward your glass again, eyebrow lifting, you already know what he’s going to ask. “Third round?”

You hesitate—then shake your head, regretful but firm. “I can’t. I’m a lightweight. If I have another, I’ll be drunk.”

“Then I’ll take you home,” he easily says with a smirk and crinkle in his eyes. “Perks of being neighbors.”

The way he says it makes your stomach flip. You smile and honestly, tempted because you want to say yes. You want to stay. To keep talking, keep hovering in this warm, buzzing space between possibility and intention.

But you remember Archie’s play and you promised Hyunjin that you’ll come.

“I really can’t,” you say gently. “I promised someone I’d be up early.”

Han nods, understanding settling in without complaint. “Fair.”

“I should close my tab,” you add.

“I’ve got it,” he says, already reaching for the register.

You insist anyway, sliding your card across the counter. He gives in with a soft laugh, hands it back once everything’s done.

“Get home safe,” he tells you.

You smile. “I will. Thank you.”

As you step away from the bar, you glance back just in time to see him disappear into the crowd—slipping between bodies, back into the rhythm of the place like he was never yours to begin with.

Your heart is still racing as you head for the door.

And somehow, you’re okay with that.

-

The kindergarten hallway is chaos in its purest form.

Parents crowd every available inch, teachers herding small bodies in mismatched costumes with the patience of saints. You weave your way through it all, scanning faces until you spot Hyunjin exactly where he said he’d be—standing just outside Archie’s classroom, hands in his pockets, looking only mildly overwhelmed.

You reach him and grab his arm. “I’m here, I’m here.”

He turns, breaks into a smile, and immediately hands you a tumbler. “For you.”

You scoff, grateful. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Figured you’d need it.”

Soon enough, the teacher starts ushering everyone toward the small auditorium. You and Hyunjin end up in the middle rows, close enough to the stage that Archie will be able to spot you, close enough that Hyunjin keeps glancing around like he’s trying to mentally map every possible angle.

A couple seated nearby turns toward him. “You’re Archie’s dad, right?” the man says.

Hyunjin stands to greet them, and you rise automatically with him, offering a polite smile. The woman looks between the two of you, eyes warm with curiosity. “I’ve seen you picking Archie up a few times,” she says to you. “Are you his mom?”

You blink. “Oh—um, I—”

“He’s mine,” Hyunjin says quickly, smoothly. “She’s our neighbor. Close friend.”

“Oh!” The woman flushes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin assures her easily, and after a few more pleasantries, they return to their seats.

You and Hyunjin sit back down. You lean in, whispering, “Did she thinks I look old enough to have a child?”

He snorts softly. “And you’ve only realized it now?”

You elbow him without thinking.

He yelps—loud.

“Shh,” he stage-whispers immediately, rubbing his side. “It’s about to start.”

The lights dim, chatter quiets, and the curtain begins to lift.

Archie stands there in a tiny bunny costume—floppy ears slightly crooked, face paint smudged just enough to make it even cuter. You bring a hand to your mouth without realizing it, eyes wide.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “He’s so cute.”

Beside you, Hyunjin is already in full dad mode. Camera up. Finger clicking nonstop. Leaning forward in his seat like he can somehow get closer through sheer will alone. You stifle a laugh as you watch him, completely unapologetic, documenting every second.

Then Archie’s eyes scan the audience and the moment he spots you and his dad, his whole face lights up. He sings louder. Dances harder. Arms swinging with enthusiasm that has nothing to do with choreography and everything to do with being seen.

This is what people meant when they say showing up matters. You feel something warm bloom in your chest as you wave subtly, smiling so hard your cheeks ache.

Hyunjin lowers the camera just long enough to catch it too, eyes shining.

The performance is chaos in the best way—off-key singing, uneven dancing, pure joy radiating from the stage and when it ends, the room erupts into cheers.

Everything feels full. Loud. Soft. And dare you say… kind of romantic.

-

Lunch turns into a small celebration without anyone needing to say it out loud.

The three of you sit around the dining table, plates of spaghetti in front of you. You keep gushing about the play because how could you not? You’re telling Archie how amazing he was on stage, how brave, how cute, how the bunny ears were the best part. You reach over with a napkin, gently wiping sauce from the corner of his mouth.

Hyunjin watches the whole thing with a quiet smile, elbow propped on the table, eyes soft.

Archie, meanwhile, tries very hard to act cool about the praise. He shrugs like it’s no big deal. Like he didn’t just steal the entire show.

“Do you know how cute you were with your bunny ears and painted nose?” you ask, dabbing the spaghetti sauce on his chin.

“I know,” Archie answers without a beat.

You and Hyunjin exchange a look, both surprised and amused before letting out chuckles.

Then, Archie looks at his dad. “Daddy, can I have ice cream after this?”

Hyunjin doesn’t even blink. “I think you have enough for today, don’t you think?”

Archie frowns.

You lean forward on the table, leaning close to Hyunjin. “But he worked really hard. Plays are exhausting.”

Archie’s eyes light up. He turns fully toward Hyunjin and puts on his best puppy eyes, voice dropping into a soft, pleading whine. “Pleaaase?”

You join him, tilting your head, widening your eyes in exaggerated innocence. “Please…”

Hyunjin looks between the two of you. His resolve lasts exactly two seconds.

“…Fine,” he sighs. “Ice cream.”

“Yay!” you and Archie cheer in unison.

Hyunjin shakes his head, defeated but smiling as he’s walking to the fridge to get the hard-earned ice cream for the three of you.

The afternoon stretches gently after lunch and nap time always wins. Hyunjin gently lays Archie into his bed, adjusting the blanket, brushing hair from his forehead with a tenderness that makes your chest ache just a little.

In the kitchen, you pour yourself a glass of water, suddenly aware of how tired you are—how keeping up with a five-year-old is a full-body workout.

Hyunjin joins you, voice low. “Can I have a glass?”

You nod, pour another glass, and the two of you settle back at the dining table, shoulders relaxed, the day finally catching up.

“So,” he says casually, “how’s the romance going?”

You snort softly. “Straight to it, huh?”

He shrugs.

You tell him about last night. About meeting your agent. About Han. About the drinks, the flirting, the way it felt different from anything you’d expected. How the whole thing felt serendipitous.

Hyunjin listens, then smirks. “Didn’t think you even knew how to flirt.”

You smack his arm lightly.

He yelps quietly this time and immediately clamps a hand over his mouth, glancing toward Archie’s room.

“Worth it,” you whisper.

He grins. “So what happens next?”

You shrug, staring into your glass. “I don’t know. Potentially, a date? I just… don’t know if he’ll ask.”

“What do you even like about him?” Hyunjin asks, genuinely curious.

“He’s cool but also… hot,” you pause to let out a shy giggle. “He’s confident. I like how he carries himself, the intensity.” You start listing things you like about Han but it all sounds familiar even as you say it.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “You know a lot for someone you’re not close with.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m getting there.”

He smiles, satisfied. “Good luck then.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward, but soft. The kind that settles after a good day. But then reality nudges you — writing to do, book to finish.

“I should go,” you say, pushing yourself up your chair.

“Wait a second,” Hyunjin says, getting up from his chair and reaching for his bag.

A while later, he returns with a paper in his hand and hands it to you. From the glasses and the way he colored the hair the same as yours, you believe it’s Archie’s drawing of you.

“His teacher shared the drawings Archie made at school,” Hyunjin shares.

When you look up from admiring the drawing, you find Hyunjin’s eyes on you, soft and earnest.

“Thank you for coming today,” he says quietly. “Archie was sad his mom couldn’t make it. It meant a lot to him that you came. To me.”

Your throat tightens, not expecting that your presence meant a great deal to someone. “You know I’d do anything for Archie,” you say honestly. Then, playfully, “Not for you.”

He chuckles. “Sure.”

You fold the drawing and hold it close to your chest. “I’m going, okay?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin nods but there’s this look on him that seems reluctant to let you leave.

You linger by the doorway to flash him a smile and say bye. “Don’t miss me too much, yeah?”

Hyunjin grins. “I’ll try.”

You walk out of his apartment, cross the hall and step back into your own. Before sitting down to write, you stick Archie’s drawing on the wall next to your desk. Every time you stop and see it, you can’t help but smile.

-

It’s Wednesday’s afternoon and you’re tucked into your usual corner at Hyunjin’s coffee shop, laptop open, fingers moving steadily. Words blur into paragraphs, paragraphs into pages. You don’t realize how long you’ve been there until you lift your cup and find it empty. You frown at it like it personally betrayed you because you really need the caffeine.

Before you can stand, a shadow falls over the table. Hyunjin appears, already setting down a fresh cup of coffee and a small tray of madeleines, warm and dusted lightly with sugar.

“Oh—thank you,” you say, looking up.

He just smiles, then takes your empty cup and disappears behind the counter.

You take your first sip, humming softly in approval, when you hear the giggling. As expected, a group of girls by the counter accept their drinks from Hyunjin, whispering to each other, cheeks flushed, eyes following him a little too obviously. You shake your head with a fond kind of disbelief.

Hyunjin is completely oblivious to the effect he has on people — girls, specifically.

The door opens and your brain stalls when you see the person who’s just stepped into the coffee shop. Han with sunlight briefly framing him before the door shuts behind him. You don’t know why your first instinct is to duck, but you try anyway—lowering your head, hiding behind your laptop like that’s going to save you. Too late though as his eyes land on you instantly and flashes you a smile.

Shit.

He heads to the counter and you watch as he and Hyunjin exchange pleasantries before taking his coffee order — Ice Americano, less ice with extra shot. While waiting, Han walks straight over and drops into the chair across from you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You smile but it comes out a little stiff. “Hey,” you weakly greet.

He flashes you his gummy smile. “Hey, what’re you doing?”

“Writing,” you say casually, like your heart didn’t just kick into a faster rhythm.

“Can I see?”

You scoff. “I’d still have to kill you.”

He chuckles softly, then goes quiet. He looks at you, noticing something on you. “You cut your hair.”

Well, you cut it like days ago but it feels nice that he finally noticed it. You nod, suddenly hyper-aware of it. Of how it sits today. Of how you styled it without thinking much about why.

“It looks good,” he says.

Before you can respond, Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the shop. “Han!”

Hearing his name on Hyunjin’s lips makes something odd twist in your chest.

The chair scrapes as Han stands. “That’s me.”

He excuses himself to grab his coffee, and the second his back is turned, you glance at your laptop screen—using the dark reflection to fix your hair, smooth it behind your ear, adjust yourself just enough.

When Han comes back, you pretend to fiddle with your laptop.

He stops by your table again with a coffee in his hand. “Hey, uh—my lame band is playing at this bar on Friday. I’d love for you to come.”

He tilts his head and playfully adds, “If you’re up for seeing a lame band.”

You chuckle, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I’d love to see your lame band.”

“It’s Friday night,” he adds.

“Friday night,” you repeat, nodding.

“I’ll see you then,” he says with a smile, satisfied, then heads for the door.

You wish him a good day, and just like that, he’s gone. You wait exactly three seconds before abandoning your table and marching to the counter.

“Oh, my God. Did you hear that?” you whisper-rant at Hyunjin, who’s cleaning the espresso machine.

“What? I only heard him ask you to see his lame band,” he says.

“He asked me out.”

Hyunjin pauses. “That’s… not what I heard.”

“It’s indirect,” you insist. “But it… is.”

He hums, unconvinced. You decide to ignore that part entirely and focus on the important thing—you were right. You’re getting closer to Han.

“That’s good then,” Hyunjin says with a small smile before moving away to hand off another order.

You don’t let yourself think too hard about his reaction but walk back to your chair. You stare at your laptop, trying to continue writing but your mind is already elsewhere.

Friday night. What to prepare. What to wear. What to expect.

-

Friday night arrives faster than you expect.

You stand in front of your mirror longer than usual, tugging at fabric, tilting your head, changing your mind twice before settling on something that feels right. Something special but not loud about it. Effortless, you tell yourself. Like you didn’t think about this all week.

You smooth the material down, check your reflection again. Good. You look like yourself. Maybe a slightly braver version.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, face-down, and your heart does a stupid little jump even though you haven’t checked it yet.

You’re buzzing, restless, excited. For the past two days, your imagination hasn’t given you a moment of peace.

You imagine walking beside Han down a dim street, shoulders brushing. You imagine him on stage, guitar slung low, eyes finding you in the crowd and staying there. You imagine him stepping offstage, a little flushed, walking straight toward you like the rest of the room doesn’t exist. You imagine drinks. Laughter. The easy kind that comes from being a little buzzed and a little brave. You imagine him leaning in close at the end of the night, voice low, mouth warm against yours. You imagine him coming back to your place. You imagine—

You stop yourself with a sharp inhale, heat rushing to your cheeks.

Okay. Enough.

You shake your head, laugh under your breath, and turn back to the mirror. You adjust your hair, add one last touch. Just enough to feel confident. Just enough to feel like tonight matters.

You don’t need to imagine anymore. You grab your bag, take one last look at yourself, and smile.

Tonight, romance is going to happen.

-

The bar is louder than you expected.

Not bad—just… a lot. The music vibrates through the floor, bass-heavy and messy, and Han’s band takes the stage with confidence that makes the crowd cheer before they even start. You watch him from where you stand near the back, guitar slung low, hair falling into his eyes. He looks good up there like this is exactly where he belongs.

You smile. You really try to.

But as the set goes on, you realize you’re not listening for the music anymore—you’re listening for how it makes you feel. And the feeling never quite arrives. The songs blur together, loud and chaotic, and while the crowd is jumping and shouting lyrics back at him, you’re nursing your drink and wondering how long you’re supposed to stay before it’s polite to leave.

When Han finally comes offstage, he’s flushed and glowing, adrenaline still buzzing through him.

“Did you like it?” he asks, hopeful.

You nod. “Yeah. You were great.”

And he was. That’s the frustrating part.

He introduces you to his friends and they’re loud and affectionate but already halfway drunk and suddenly you’re bar-hopping, squeezing into cramped spaces, shouting conversations over music you don’t know.

Han keeps a hand at your lower back, guiding you through the crowd, ordering drinks without asking what you want.

It’s not unkind. It’s just… unfamiliar.

At one point, you’re sitting on a sticky barstool, watching him laugh with his bandmates, and it hits you—this isn’t a date. You’re not being chosen. You’re being folded into his night.

You thought you knew him. Or maybe you thought you wrote him.

The version of Han in your head is quieter, more attentive, someone who’d lean in to hear you speak instead of leaning away to greet someone new. You realize, with a strange calm, that none of that is fair—to him or to you.

When he finally looks back at you and asks, “You good?” you smile and say, “Yeah. Just tired.”

It’s the truth. Just not the whole one.

Later, when he walks you home and kisses your cheek instead of your lips, you feel relief instead of disappointment.

When you close your door behind you, the silence feels kinder than the noise ever did. You sit on your bed and laugh softly to yourself. Not because it went badly. But because it didn’t go wrong—it just didn’t go right.

You don’t cry. You just stare at the wall and think about how you’re going to need time to understand what that means.

-

The days after Friday blur together quietly.

You’re back at your desk, laptop open, fingers moving more out of habit than inspiration. The room is dim except for the warm pool of light from your desk lamp, the kind of night where the world feels paused just enough for thoughts to get loud.

You’re mid-sentence when a knock sounds at your door. Your heart jumps—annoyingly hopeful, annoyingly wary.

You move to the door, peeking through the peephole first because you’re not ready. Not ready to see Han. Not ready to smile politely and pretend you didn’t dismantle an entire version of him in your head.

Thankfully, it’s Hyunjin.

Relief washes through you so quickly you almost laugh. You open the door and step aside to let him in. “Hey, come in.”

He softly smiles when he sees you, but there’s something else there too—a quiet concern that sits just beneath the surface.

“So Archie is at his mom’s,” he says instead, lifting the plastic bag in his hand. “And I can’t finish all these dumplings myself.”

You smile and usher him toward the kitchen. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Thought I’d share the burden,” he replies easily.

You eat in comfortable silence, the clink of chopsticks against plates filling the gaps. It feels grounding, the simplicity of it.

After a while, Hyunjin glances at you and asks, “How’s the book going?”

“I’ve been writing a lot lately,” you simply answer.

“Is that why I haven’t seen you much?”

You nod.

He hums, accepting it, and the quiet settles again—this time heavier, waiting. Then, gently, “How was the date?”

You sigh before you even realize you’re doing it. Your shoulders slump, and you stare at your plate for a moment longer than necessary before finally speaking.

“I think I’m stupid,” you say, letting out a soft, sarcastic laugh. “For believing there’s such a thing as a dream man.”

Hyunjin’s expression sharpens, not with judgment, but concern. “Did Han do something?”

You shake your head. “No. That’s the thing. It’s not him.”

“Then who?”

“My expectations,” you say quietly. “I projected this whole character onto him. Built this romance in my head and expected it to just… happen.”

You laugh again, but it’s hollow. “So I guess that’s on me. Maybe I don’t deserve romance after all.”

Hyunjin’s chair scrapes softly as he shifts closer. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, warm and steady, rubbing small, comforting circles into your back.

“What makes you think that?” he asks gently.

You don’t answer right away.

“You’re so busy looking for romance,” he continues, “that you don’t realize how romantic the things you do already are.”

You turn your head to look at him, comforted but unconvinced, and he notices. He always does.

“I watch you work and know how hard you worked on your writing.”

You scoff lightly. “You’re biased.”

“And your book,” he adds. “It feels warm. Like… it cares about people.”

You shake your head. “How would you even know?”

He hesitates for half a second and admits, “I read it.”

You snort. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he insists, smiling sheepishly. “Archie always wants to know what I’m reading, so I keep it in my bedside drawer and only read it before bed.”

That gets a real laugh out of you, shaking your head but warmth blooming in your chest despite yourself.

Then Hyunjin’s hand moves from your shoulder to your jaw. He cups your face gently, thumb brushing your cheek with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch.

“You’re amazing,” he says, looking straight into your eyes. “You write beautifully. What you create entertains people. It warms them. What could be more romantic than that?”

Something in you cracks open—not painfully, but softly. Your heart trembles at how genuine he is, how steady, how sure. How he knows the words you needed to hear.

You place your hand over his and lean into his touch. “Thank you,” you whisper.

For a moment, the two of you staying like that, sitting in a comfort that doesn’t need imagining to exist.

Another moment later, you rinse the last plate and set it carefully on the rack while Hyunjin dries his hands on a dish towel, leaning against the counter like he belongs there—like he always has.

“Oh,” he says casually, as if it just crossed his mind. “I’m taking Archie to the aquarium this weekend.”

He adds quickly, a teasing lilt in his voice, “I know there’s absolutely nothing romantic about going to the aquarium with a divorced dad and his kid. But… I thought it might help take your mind off things a little.”

It is a good idea since you’ve been cooped up in the apartment for the last few days but still, you pretend to consider it for a moment just to tease him. Then you break into a smile and nod, “…Yeah, I’d like that.”

Hyunjin nods, clearly pleased but pretending not to be. “Cool. I’ll pack lunch,” he says, already planning. “You can treat us to ice cream.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, was it?”

“Nope.”

You sigh dramatically. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

When everything’s done, he pauses and leans over the dining table, hands propped against it. “Are you going to continue writing tonight?”

“It seems like it, yeah,” you answer.

“Just… make sure you rest too,” he says.

You promise with a nod, even if you’re not sure you’ll keep it.

At the door, you thank him again and reach for the handle, but before you can open it, Hyunjin gently pulls you into a hug. It’s long and tight, like he’s trying to pass something to you through sheer closeness. Warmth. Comfort. His real, solid presence.

You don’t resist. You melt into it, arms wrapping around him, breathing him in, catching the faint smell of coffee clinging to his clothes. It feels nice. Too nice.

When you pull back, he doesn’t let you go right away. His hands stay on you, just enough to keep you close. Your eyes meet and for a split second, something sparks right in your chest.

Hyunjin swallows, then murmurs, “Goodnight.”

Only then does he let go.

“Goodnight,” you breathe back, still a little breathless as he steps out and the door clicks shut behind him.

You stand there for a moment longer than necessary, heart thudding, unsure of what just happened—

Only that it stole your breath anyway.

-

The aquarium entrance looms ahead, glass doors glinting under the sun, and Archie is already bouncing on the balls of his feet. His hands are warm in yours, small fingers threaded tightly as he wedges himself between you and Hyunjin.

“Ready?” Hyunjin asks, glancing down at him.

Before either of you can answer, Archie jumps.

You and Hyunjin instinctively lift your arms, hoisting him up for a few seconds, his laugh bursting out loud and uncontained before you set him back down.

“Again!” Archie demands immediately.

You exchange a look with Hyunjin, his mouth already twitching with a smile and do it again. And again. Until Archie’s laughter turns into breathless giggles and the line starts moving.

“Okay,” Hyunjin says, squeezing Archie's hand. “It’s our turn to enter.”

The moment you step into the aquarium, Archie goes quiet. His eyes widen, reflecting the blue glow of the tanks as fish glide past the glass like living brushstrokes. He lets go of your hand without warning, darting forward with a gasp.

“Wait—Archie!” you call, hurrying after him.

He presses his face close to the glass, pointing excitedly, words tumbling out too fast for you to catch. You slow him down, gently steering him from tank to tank, trying and failing to keep pace with his excitement.

Behind you, Hyunjin lingers, unbothered. He lifts his camera, capturing the way Archie’s mouth drops open in awe, the way you crouch beside him, explaining fish names you half-remember.

“Are you even helping?” you call over your shoulder.

Hyunjin chuckles, snapping another photo. “You’re doing great.”

You shake your head, breathless and smiling, while Archie tugs at your sleeve, already dragging you forward. In the next exhibit, you take the camera from Hyunjin without asking, fingers already curling around the familiar weight of it.

“Hey—” he protests.

“It’s your turn!” You say as you aim the camera at him.

Then Archie gasps, pointing at the massive tank ahead, and Hyunjin lifts him up without another word. Archie settles easily in his arms, one small hand braced on Hyunjin’s shoulder as he leans closer to the glass.

Schools of fish glide past them, slow and hypnotic, and something bigger passes in the shadows, making Archie suck in a sharp breath.

“Dad,” he whispers, reverent.

You raise the camera and Hyunjin doesn’t even realize you’re taking pictures at first. His head is tilted slightly toward Archie, his arm secure around him, thumb rubbing absentminded circles against Archie’s back.

There’s a softness in his face you don’t see often—unguarded, fond, full in a quiet way. You press the shutter again and again, capturing the warmth of it, the way love looks when it’s lived in.

When Hyunjin finally glances over and notices you, he raises an eyebrow. “You done?”

“Not even close,” you say, snapping one last photo as Archie laughs at something swimming past.

You move on to the touching pool after that, Archie skipping ahead while sucking on a juice box, already announcing to anyone who’ll listen that there are baby sharks inside.

You peer into the shallow tank, watching the small, sleek shapes glide through the water. “I don’t know about this.”

Hyunjin grins. “They’re harmless.”

You shake your head, folding your arms. “Easy for you to say.”

Without hesitation, Hyunjin rolls up his sleeve and dips his hand into the water. One of the baby sharks swims close, brushing past his fingers. He doesn’t flinch.

“See? Totally fine.”

Purely out of curiosity, you slowly lower your hand into the pool. The water is cool, your pulse loud in your ears as a small shark swims toward you. You watch it intently, holding your breath—

Hyunjin suddenly yelps and at the same time, his hand shoots out and grabs yours under the water.

You scream, jerking your hand back so fast you nearly stumble. “Hyunjin!”

He bursts out laughing, loud and unapologetic, doubling over as you stand there mortified, heart racing.

“Oh my god,” you hiss, slapping his arm again and again. “What is wrong with you?!”

“I couldn’t help it,” he laughs, failing to dodge your hits.

Archie giggles uncontrollably from the side, juice carton forgotten in his hand. “You scared her!”

“You’re both terrible,” you mutter, cheeks burning as a few nearby visitors glance over with amused smiles.

Hyunjin finally lifts his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Worth it.”

You glare at him, but it doesn’t stick. Not with Archie laughing like that. Not with the warmth still lingering from the moment before. Still, you give Hyunjin one last slap for good measure.

“Absolutely not forgiven,” you say but you can see Hyunjin’s smile only goes wider.

By the time the three of you arrived home, Archie is completely out—head tucked under Hyunjin’s chin, mouth slightly open, limbs loose from a day filled with too much excitement and too much food.

You unlock the door into Hyunjin’s apartment with the spare keys you have and hold it open while Hyunjin steps inside. He heads straight for Archie’s room, disappearing down the hallway, and you move to set the backpack down, lining up the jacket, placing the little sneakers neatly by the door.

The sight of Hyunjin’s camera catches your attention so you pick it up and allow yourself to sit on the sofa.

There are so many pictures of Archie—him pressing his nose to the glass, arms spread wide like he’s trying to become a fish; him crouching near a tank, mimicking the posture of a stingray; him baring his teeth proudly like the statue of the sharks next to him. You smile without realizing it.

Then there are photos of you and Archie together. One where you’re pointing excitedly at something in a tank while Archie looks up at you like you’ve just told him a secret. Another where you’re laughing, head thrown back, completely unaware.

You pause on one photo in particular of you standing slightly to the side, Archie right next to you, both of you staring at a tank full of glowing jellyfish. The light bathes everything in blue and violet, soft and dreamy.

It’s… aesthetic. Hyunjin takes beautiful pictures. Which also annoys you because he’s just so good at everything.

You scroll again and realize the next few are unmistakably the ones you took. You can tell because they’re not as composed. Slightly crooked. Too close. Taken with a kind of rushed affection.

You continue scrolling and then stop when you find a picture of you. Your face turned toward the glass, expression relaxed, almost thoughtful. The glow from the tank kisses your cheekbones, your eyes soft, unguarded. There are more like it—small moments, stolen from angles you didn’t know he was watching from.

They’re different. Taken with such great care. Tender. Almost… romantic.

“You know,” Hyunjin’s voice cuts in, amused, “I should’ve taken a picture of you freaking out at the touching pool.”

You yelp softly and turn, immediately slapping his arm. “Don’t you dare.”

He laughs as he sits beside you on the sofa, close enough that your shoulders nearly touch. You hand him the camera back, then lean into the cushions with a long sigh. “You know,” you say, staring at the ceiling, “your life is way more romantic than mine.”

Hyunjin tilts his head. “How is that so?”

You count them off without even looking at him. “You have a beautiful, loving son. You own a coffee shop. You brew your own coffee. You bake. You have… secret admirers. You take beautiful photos like this.” You gesture vaguely. “And that’s not even all of it.”

Hyunjin hums thoughtfully and then, narrows his eyes at you. “Secret admirers?”

You grin and bump your shoulder lightly against his. “The girls at the coffee shop. The giggling. The whispering. The very obvious swooning.”

He scoffs, trying to look indifferent. “I don’t notice that.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

He chuckles, shaking his head, but you catch the faintest hint of pink at the tips of his ears.

You shift closer without really thinking about it—your legs tucked under you now, Hyunjin’s shoulder warm against yours.

Hyunjin clears his throat, then says, almost too casually, “You know… there are a few romantic things about you too.”

“A few, huh?” you scoff, turning toward him.

He smiles, that soft one he only ever wears around you, and leans back into the sofa. “A few. Yeah.”

You cross your arms together, unimpressed yet curious. “Let’s hear it then.”

“I think it’s romantic when you’re writing at the coffee shop,” he starts with a soft smile. “You don’t notice anything around you—your coffee going cold, people coming and going. The sunlight hits you just right and it’s like you’re… glowing. Like you’re somewhere else.”

Your breath catches, just a little. Not expecting that.

“I think it’s romantic the way you use words,” he continues. “You make people feel things. You make me feel things, even when you don’t realize it.”

You swallow because your chest suddenly feels tight.

“I think it’s romantic when you enjoy my coffee and my madeleines like they’re something special,” he adds, quieter now. “When you come over and I find you and Archie on the floor, coloring or laughing like you belong there.”

His eyes meet yours.

“And I think it’s romantic that you’re always there,” he says. “When I need help. When Archie needs someone. When I’m too tired to ask.”

The air between you thickens, crackles.

Then, softer, almost vulnerable, he says, “And I think… there’s something romantic between you and me.”

You smile shyly, heart stuttering. “You and me?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin doesn’t even try to hide it.

You decide to be playful about it. “Okay, I guess we’re… kind of romantic.”

He doesn’t laugh. Instead, he leans in just a fraction, gaze deepening, voice dropping low and warm. “Should we make it more romantic?”

Your heart pounds so loud you’re sure he can hear it. But there’s no panic. No urge to pull away. Just this steady, grounding warmth like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

“I guess we can make it romantic,” you answer, breathless and a little trembling.

Hyunjin’s hand comes up gently, like he’s afraid of startling you, and then, the next thing you know, his lips are on yours, soft and plush. The kiss is tender, almost innocent, like a promise instead of a question.

You melt into it, eyes fluttering shut. Because this—

This feels romantic.

-

You pull away first, breath shaky, your hand flying up to cover your lips like you need to physically hold yourself together.

Hyunjin’s lips are a little swollen, a little red, still glossy from the kiss, and the sight of him looking worried like that almost makes you laugh. “What? Did that feel weird?” he asks quietly.

You’re still processing the way your heart is racing, the way your body feels warm and light and grounded all at once. Then you nod.

“It feels weird because…” you say honestly. “It doesn’t feel weird at all.”

He exhales a laugh, soft and relieved, shaking his head like he should’ve known better. He doesn’t rush you, rush this moment. Then, carefully, like he’s asking permission with every movement, he reaches up and brushes your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His fingers linger there, warm against your skin.

You don’t expect to feel this with Hyunjin, whom you’ve known for years and you’ve comfortably shared part of your life with. You hesitate for a second and then glance up at him through your lashes. “Can we uh… can we try again?”

His smile this time is slow, sure. “Yeah.”

You scoot closer, close your eyes, and lean in first. And you expect to feel his lips on you soon, but no. Instead, you feel his hands come up to cradle your face, thumbs warm against your cheeks. He presses a kiss to your eyelid. Then the other. A soft one to your cheekbone. A lingering kiss along your jaw that makes your breath hitch.

When your lips part and a breathless gasp escaped your lips, only then does he kiss you again.

This time, you don’t hold back. The kiss deepens naturally, carrying you both somewhere heavier, warmer. Hyunjin leans in until you’re sinking into the cushions, the sofa dipping beneath you, his body braced carefully above yours—close, but never careless.

When he pulls away, it’s only to trail kisses along your jaw, your neck, lower—each one slow enough to make your head spin.

You try to stay quiet. You really do. But the soft, breathless sounds slip out anyway.

He catches the last one with a kiss that steals what little air you have left. When he finally pulls back, he stays hovering above you, eyes dark, amused and tender all at once.

“You okay?” he asks.

You give him a shaky thumbs-up.

He laughs quietly, brushing your hair away from your face again. “Good.”

Then, his eyes look deeply into yours and says, “I know the part of me that says ‘divorced, single dad’ doesn’t sound very romantic.”

He punctuates it with a quick kiss to your lips. “But,” he adds, lingering close, his mouth grazing yours, “it does mean I’m pretty confident about the… spicy parts.”

He pauses, searching your face, the teasing replaced with care. “We can stop. Or we can move forward. It’s up to you.”

Still breathless, cheeks burning, you try to sound casual. “Yeah. I think we can… move on to the spicy part.”

He chuckles, clearly delighted, and you immediately cover your face with your hands, mortified.

“Don’t look at me.”

Instead of teasing you, Hyunjin scoops you up without warning.

You squeal, clapping a hand over your mouth as reality kicks in that Archie is sleeping. “Hyunjin—"

Your hands clutch at his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as he carries you down the hallway. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, heart pounding, warmth blooming everywhere.

“I’m just,” he adds softly, “trying to make it more romantic.”

Somehow, it already is with the way he carries you like you’re something delicate, something precious, and the care in it makes your chest ache.

Hyunjin lowers you onto the bed slowly, one hand braced beside your head, the other still steady at your waist like he’s afraid of letting go too soon. He hovers above you again, eyes searching your face, and then his lips find yours—soft at first, then deeper, dizzying.

It goes on like that. Kissing. Shifting closer. Bodies pressing together until the room feels smaller, warmer, filled with nothing but breath and heat and the quiet creak of the mattress beneath you.

It all starts to feel like too much in the best, overwhelming way. You pull back gently, resting your hand against his chest. “Hyunjin… give me a second.”

He immediately stills. “Yeah. Of course.”

He stays close but doesn’t touch, giving you space without leaving. You use the moment to really look at him. His eyes are softer up close. You trace the little mole under his left eye with your fingertip, your touch feather-light, like you’re afraid he might disappear if you press too hard. Your thumb brushes over his lips, plush and slightly swollen from kissing you.

You’ve known him for years, seen him almost every day, but never like this. Never this close. Never with this quiet, electric romance humming between you.

Hyunjin is so beautiful it steals the air from your lungs.

“God,” you murmur without thinking. “You’re… really beautiful.”

His mouth curves into a smile, shy and amused all at once. “But you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Hyunjin shifts, sitting up. His fingers move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one.

Your eyes widen, heart pounding, you’re helpless under him and absolutely not complaining. You bring a hand to your mouth, biting back any sound as he shrugs the shirt off, exposing his toned arms, his chest, the quiet strength in the lines of his body. Heat rushes through you, settling everywhere all at once.

Hyunjin glances down at you, clearly enjoying the reaction, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So,” he asks softly, “what do you think?”

You swallow. “I’m thinking… a lot of girls would be really jealous of me right now.”

Something curious pulls at you then. Your hand reaches for him, hesitant, half-convinced he’s just a figment of your imagination. He notices immediately and takes your hand, pressing it flat against his chest.

“I’m very much real, yeah,” he jokingly says with a soft chuckle.

You touch him gently, reverently, like it’s something sacred. “I didn’t expect this under the dad sweaters and barista apron.”

He scoffs lightly. “Hey. I look good in those.”

You meet his eyes. “Well, honestly, you look good in everything.”

That makes him smiles, soft and pleased. He leans down again, bracing himself carefully above you, and captures your lips in a long, deep kiss that pulls you right back under him.

And whatever line there was between romantic and something more… it fades quietly, willingly, as you let yourself follow him there.

You kiss him back just as eagerly, your hands roaming over his bare upper body. He feels warm and solid beneath your palms, soft skin over strength that makes your head feel light. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, slow and consuming, until you’re dizzy from it, until the room feels like it’s tilting.

When his hand drifts toward the opening of your blouse, a shaky breath slips out of you before you can stop it.

Hyunjin immediately stills, lifting his head to look at you. “You know you can stop me anytime, right?”

You shake your head quickly, flustered. “I—no. I’m just… shy.”

He scoffs playfully. “What, you think I’m hiding abs under here and you’re not?”

You laugh, the sound easing something tight in your chest, and that little moment of humor makes everything feel safer, easier. You lift yourself just enough to undo your blouse, and he helps you ease it off, careful and unhurried. Jeans follow, his first and then yours, movements clumsy but sweet as clothes are kicked aside and forgotten on the floor.

When there’s nothing left between you, reality hits all at once. You sit back against the pillows, arms crossed over yourself, legs tucked in shyly.

Hyunjin tilts his head, smiling. “What are you trying to hide from me?”

“The most un-romantic part of me,” you meekly answer.

He laughs softly before crawling closer anyway. “Guess I’ll have to see for myself.”

He gently moves your hands away, not rushing or forcing, just guiding until you’re lying bare beneath him. Your heart pounds, worry creeping in, all those quiet insecurities whispering at once.

But the way he looks at you… it’s nothing like you feared. His eyes trace you with awe, like he can’t comprehend it, like he can’t believe you’re real. His hands follow, touching you with reverence, slow and indulgent, making you shiver at the tenderness of it. He drags his hand from the base of your throat down the valley of your breasts, he rests his hand for a brief moment there on the ribcage, feeling the rise and fall of it with every breathe you take.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, and the words sink deep, settling somewhere warm inside you.

His lips replace his hands, kisses pressed to your collarbone, under your breast, your navel, your hip. Each kiss is unhurried, lingering and each one making you more breathless than the last. You gasp softly as he moves lower, taking his time, clearly enjoying every reaction he pulls from you.

Hyunjin knows where you want him the most, but he doesn't give it to you. Not yet. With a smirk, he pulls away, knees propped against the bed. A hand reaches for your leg and lifts it, there isn’t slightest of hesitation as he presses a kiss to your ankle.

From there, he continues to make a trail of kisses down your leg until he's there, head hanging between your leg. He looks at you, making you wait in anticipation for what he’s going to do next.

You feel faint from how much you’ve been holding your breath and when his mouth finally makes contact with your cunt, a breathless gasp spilled out of your parted mouth.

Hyunjin begins by landing kitten licks between your folds, making you wetter than you already are. His tongue darting out, the hot and slick of it pressing on your clit before it moves in slow, circular motions.

You’re squirming under him, your hips lifted off the bed, seeking pleasure of his hot mouth on you, but the hand resting on your stomach, firmly holding you down, not letting you go.

When he finally looks up at you, lips flushed, eyes dark and playful, the heat of his attention alone is enough to make you squirm. He doesn’t waste another second but to dive back in, giving you more of those delicious curls of his tongue on your clit, between your folds, around the entrance. He plants his mouth on your clit, sucking at it in such gentleness and intention and it feels overwhelming, dizzying.

Your moans slip out before you can stop them and hurriedly press your lips together, aware that Archie is sleeping in the next room. You clamp a hand over your mouth, body tensing even though every nerve is screaming otherwise.

Saying Hyunjin’s name feels like dragging it out of your lungs, broken and whispered, and you tug at his hair in a desperate attempt to get his attention.

“Hyunjin…”

He doesn’t hear it at first. Or maybe he does, but he’s far too focused, far too intent on pleasing you with his mouth like he’s forgotten the rest of the world exists. You’re helpless beneath him, caught between wanting him to stop and wanting him never to.

Your pleas dissolve into soft, ruined sounds, and you can’t even tell anymore what you’re asking for. Then everything inside you coiling, winding, overwhelming and when it finally breaks, you bite down hard on your lip, eyes squeezing shut as you fall apart in silence, every sensation crashing over you at once.

Hyunjin slows and then pulls back. He watches you with a knowing smirk tugging at his lips as you ride out the last of your orgasm, breath shaking, chest rising and falling.

Before you can even gather yourself, he’s above you again, one hand braced beside your head as he leans down and captures your mouth in a deep kiss, letting you have a taste of you lingering on his tongue and lips.

The two of you stay like that for a moment longer, just kissing with your body still humming as you drift down from the edge you’d just tipped over. Hyunjin’s mouth stays soft on yours, but there’s an unmistakable pull beneath it, a promise you both feel building again with every breath you share. There’s no denying that you’re both ready for what’s next.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours. “Give me a second, yeah?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as he shifts to the side. You watch him open the bedside drawer and there, next to his box of condoms is your book.

You laugh softly when you see it and reach for it before he can stop you, holding it up with a grin. “So you didn’t lie, huh?”

He doesn’t even deny it, just shrugs, a little sheepish, a little smug. You flip it open and spot the bookmarked part of the story. “Oh, you’re in the juicy part.”

“And I think,” he says, holding a condom in his hand now, voice teasing but steady, “we should catch up to it.”

You tuck the book away, suddenly shy all over again, and watch him with a kind of breathless awe as he takes his time, tearing through the foil packet and then carefully rolls the rubber down his stiff member.

When he looks up and catches you staring at his hard length, you don’t even bother pretending.

“I don’t think—” you start, then stop yourself, laughing softly. “It’s… big.”

His smile is easy, reassuring. “We’ll make it fit.”

The way he says it sends a shiver straight through you—half terrifying, half thrilling. You barely have time to react before he’s back with you, laughter and warmth knocking the air from your lungs as you both sink into the mattress again.

When he looks at you, his expression turns serious, tender. “Tell me if it’s uncomfortable, okay?”

You nod, and he takes his time—kissing you, touching you, grounding you—until your body softens, relaxes, opens to him without fear.

When Hyunjin finally settles between your legs, everything slows even more. He’s using his long, slender fingers to tease until you’re wet, drenched and only then, he begins using the tip of his cock to smear your essence all over your entrance. When he deems you're ready to take him, he aligns his cock and begins pushing into you.

The stretch, the sheer size of him, the sudden fullness — it’s overwhelming, not painful, just surprising. You cling to his shoulders, breathing through it, and he pauses immediately.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, letting out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Just—wow.”

“Should I continue?”

“Definitely, yes,” you eagerly answer.

Hyunjin slowly pushing the remaining length with utter cautiousness and care. A breath caught in your throat the moment he’s fully buried inside you and your hands clawing at his shoulders, needing time to adjust to him and so does he.

Hyunjin presses his forehead with yours, just existing, processing that you're both connected to one another now and when he opens his eyes, they found yours instantly. He smiles a soft smile and says, "Let's take it slow, mmh?"

You nod, agreeing to it with a long kiss on his lips. For a moment, the two of you stay like that, adjusting to each other, just existing in the moment.

When he finally moves, it’s slow, agonizingly slow as if he wants you to feel everything.

And you do. The closeness. The heat. The way his lips keep finding yours, as if he can’t help it. It feels so deeply intimate that you're shivering all over.

A sound slips out of you before you can stop it, and his eyes darken with amusement. “I like hearing your beautiful moans,” he murmurs against your lips. “But if you get too loud, Archie’s going to hear.”

You barely have the presence of mind to be embarrassed. “But it— it feels too good,” you admit breathlessly.

His smile is pure trouble. One hand cups your jaw. “Then I’ll just have to keep kissing you.”

He does exactly that, mouth never leaving yours as his movements grow surer, deeper, more confident. But the moans keep slipping out of your mouth in between kisses anyway as Hyunjin is rocking his hips in this fluid motions, his cock nudging you right in the spot.

You lose yourself in it—cling to him, wrap yourself around him, let the sensations take over until everything else fades.

“Hyunjin, I’m close,” your voice breaking against his lips

He smiles against your lips. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Then his hand reaches yours, slipping his fingers in the gaps and interlaced it together. He pins your interlocked hands next to your head as he adds more intensity and speed to his thrusts.

Soon, your moans turn into whimpers and cries against his lips but that seems to drive him further as he continues moving and taking you closer to your high. You cling to him, your legs wrapped tightly around him, not letting him go.

When the high finally crashes, you fall together. It’s messy, breathless, overwhelming. You shatter first, and he follows right after, holding you so tightly it feels like he’s afraid to let go.

When it’s over, you’re still tangled together, fingers laced, foreheads touching, hearts racing in the same uneven rhythm.

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to. For now, it’s enough to stay exactly like this.

-

The room quiet except for the soft rhythm of his breathing as Hyunjin lies close to you.

Hyunjin is already half-gone, sleep pulling him under with that unfair ease of his. His arm is draped around you like it belongs there, heavy and warm across your waist, his fingers curled loosely at your side. Every so often, he shifts closer in his sleep, instinctive, like he’s making sure you haven’t disappeared.

You’re too aware of everything—of the way his chest rises beneath your cheek, of how his face softens completely when he sleeps, lashes resting against skin that still holds a trace of warmth. He looks different like this. Younger. Gentler. Less guarded. Real.

You trace nothing, touch nothing, just watch and quietly imprinting it in the back of your head.

Your body is tired in the best way, pleasantly sore, deeply comfortable, but your mind won’t slow down. It keeps replaying moments—the way he looked at you, the way he asked instead of assumed, the way he held you afterward like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

Romance. The word doesn’t feel stupid right now.

Hyunjin exhales, long and slow, and tightens his arm just a little, pulling you closer in his sleep. Your forehead ends up tucked beneath his chin, your legs tangled together without either of you meaning to. Your chest tightens—not with fear this time, but with something fragile and hopeful. You rest your palm lightly against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your hand, and for the first time in a long while, the thought doesn’t scare you.

For so long, you thought romance was something loud. Grand. Scripted. Something you had to chase or imagine into existence. Maybe you’ve found it.

And maybe, this time, it’s not something you made up.

-

You wake up slow, heavy-limbed, wrapped in warmth that doesn’t quite register at first.

The ceiling isn’t yours. That’s the first thing that feels off. The light is different too—softer, slipping in through unfamiliar curtains, painting the room in pale gold. You blink, disoriented, heart giving a small, confused jump before reality comes rushing back all at once.

Hyunjin. Last night. Everything.

A smile blooms on your lips before you can stop it, small and private and a little stunned. It lingers until you shift and feel cool sheets beside you. His side of the bed is empty.

Your chest tightens just a little as you turn, half-expecting the room to be empty, half-dreading the ridiculous thoughts that try to creep in, but then you see him.

Hyunjin stands by the wardrobe with his back to you, rummaging through hangers like this is the most normal morning in the world. He’s wearing only his jeans, hair still messy from sleep, sunlight spilling over his bare upper body like it’s intentional—like the universe is showing off.

You stay quiet as you don’t want to break this moment, eyes admiring the muscles on his back as he grabs a T-shirt, biceps flexing as he slips it on.

Then he turns and catches you watching. He doesn’t tease you. He just smiles. He crosses the room and climbs back onto the bed, moving carefully, like he’s aware you’re still half-dreaming.

You instinctively pull the duvet up to cover half your face, suddenly shy in that dazed, just-woke-up way, but he doesn’t seem to care at all.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

You don’t answer. You just stare at him, eyes wide, still trying to reconcile this version of reality with the one you had yesterday.

He chuckles quietly. “Still weird?”

You nod.

He tilts his head. “Weird because it doesn’t feel weird?”

Another nod.

His fingers brush your hair back gently, but instead of stopping there, his lips trail to your bare shoulder. A kiss. Then your neck. Your jaw. Slow. Warm. When he finally kisses your lips, it’s brief and sweet, like punctuation instead of a question.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. “I’ll give you time to process,” he says softly. “When you’re ready, come out. I’ll make breakfast.”

You nod again, the words still stuck somewhere in your chest.

Hyunjin presses one last quick peck to your lips, flashes you a smile that feels dangerously domestic, and slips out of the room.

The second the door clicks shut, you fall back against the mattress, staring at the ceiling, hands flying to your face as a muffled squeal escapes you. This is your life now and it’s real.

After a while, you decide you can’t stay buried in the bed forever, no matter how tempting it is. Reality has caught up to you whether you’re ready or not—so you sit up, rub at your face, and shuffle straight into the bathroom to fix whatever crime sleep has committed on your appearance.

You splash water on your face. Tie your hair. Stare at your reflection a little too long.

And then a very silly, very romantic thought slips in.

You step back into Hyunjin’s bedroom and drift toward his wardrobe. It’s annoyingly neat, everything folded and hung with care. You tug on a pair of his pajama pants that are much too long on you, the fabric pooling at your ankles, then a soft sweater that smells faintly like coffee and him.

You pad out of the bedroom slowly, still half-processing everything, when a door creaks open to your left.

Archie with his hair is sticking up in every direction, eyes half-lidded as he rubs at them with tiny fists. He looks at you and you look at him. There’s a beat of silence where your heart politely panics.

Recognition dawns and his face breaks into a sleepy smile. “Oh. It’s you.”

He doesn’t question why you’re there, doesn’t question the clothes. In his mind, you’re just… you. A friend. Someone safe. Someone who belongs.

He reaches out and grabs your hand with surprising determination. “Come on,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “Let’s have daddy cook waffles.”

Before you can even respond, he’s already tugging you down the hallway, calling out, “Daddyyy!” like it’s the most important announcement of the morning.

The kitchen smells like coffee when you arrive. Hyunjin is by the counter, grinding coffee beans, sleeves pushed up, hair still soft and messy. He looks up at the sound of Archie’s feet stomping against the wooden floor and when he sees Archie dragging you along by the hand, something in his expression melts instantly.

“Morning, beautiful boy,” he says, warm and gentle.

Archie lets go of you only to climb straight into Hyunjin’s arms. Hyunjin lifts him without effort, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Did you sleep well?”

Archie mumbles something about sharks or jellyfish or some hybrid creature only his dreams can invent, probably mixing it up with the memories from yesterday’s aquarium trip and you smile to yourself, watching the way Hyunjin listens like it all makes perfect sense. Then his gaze shifts to you.

“How about you?” he asks, playful. “Did you sleep well?”

You lean against the counter, sweater sleeves hiding your hands, and smile back at him. “The best sleep I’ve ever had.”

Hyunjin’s lips twitch, like he’s trying very hard not to react too much.

Archie, meanwhile, has already moved on to his next priority. “Waffles,” he announces firmly.

“Yes, waffles,” you echo, immediately siding with him.

Archie grins and turns his full puppy eyes on his dad. You do the same, dramatically clasping your hands together like this is a life-or-death negotiation. “Please…”

Hyunjin looks between the two of you, utterly outnumbered. “…I was going to make toast,” he starts.

“Nooo,” Archie whines.

“Please,” you add, not even pretending to be subtle.

He sighs, defeated, but smiling. “Fine. Waffles.”

“Yay!” You and Archie cheer in unison.

As Hyunjin moves around the kitchen, pulling ingredients, brewing coffee, slipping seamlessly into this routine, you realize something quietly, deeply terrifying—

This doesn’t feel new. It feels like something you’ve been doing for a long time already and God, it feels romantic.

-

The morning is warm with the promise of spring that will arrive soon. Archie’s small hand fits in yours as you walk him to kindergarten. He’s chatty as usual, talking about his funny classmate and the pet fish in his class and how his dad promised his favorite food for dinner later, and you listen, smiling, nodding, feeling strangely at home beside him.

Arrived at the gate of his kindergarten, you kneel to straighten his jacket and he hugs you without hesitation.

“Have the best day ever, okay?” you say when you pull away, patting his cheek gently.

He eagerly nods and raises his hand for a wave. “Buh-bye,” he says with his whisker-dimpled smile before disappearing inside with his teacher following closely behind him.

You walk back alone, heart light. You pull your phone out and compose a text: Mini Hyunjin is safely at school.

When you step into your apartment, your phone buzzes with his reply: Big Hyunjin is baking your treats.

You smile at the screen, something fond settling in your chest: Big??!!!

Hyunjin’s reply comes in an instant: You said it yourself. Remember?

Your mouth hangs open but nothing comes out. Just a quiet shock. You used to be scared of this, of this change, afraid that everything else will change as well. But nothing feels rushed. Nothing feels different in a way that’s scary. He’s still the next-door neighbor who own a coffee shop. You’re still the writer with deadlines and empty coffee cups. Archie still needs to be walked to school. Coffee still tastes the same. Yet everything feels new and more… romantic.

You grab your laptop and just as you’re about to start typing, a knock echoes through the space. You freeze for half a second and then walk to the door. When you open it, you’re genuinely caught off guard.

Han stands there, coffee tray balanced in one hand, a paper bag of pastries in the other. He smiles when he sees you, easy and familiar, like he’s always belonged in your doorway.

“Hey,” he says. “I brought coffee.”

You blink once. Twice. Then you step aside, opening the door wider. “Oh—yeah. Come in.”

A moment later, the two of you are in the living room, coffee cups warming your hands, pastries spread out on the table. There’s a little bit of everything in the bag.

“I couldn’t remember what you got me that day,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “So I just… panicked and bought all of them.”

You laugh. “That explains a lot.”

After a while, you add, “but I appreciate it.”

It goes quiet for a moment until Han clears his throat. “Haven’t seen you much lately,” he says. “Figured you were either busy writing or… avoiding me.”

You shake your head quickly. “Just busy. Writing.”

He nods, accepting that easily. Silence settles again and then he exhales. “Can I ask you something?”

You look at him and nod.

“That night,” he says carefully. “Did I do something? Or say something that annoyed you?”

This only proves that you always know that Han is a decent person and you didn’t made up that part of him. You hesitate, then shake your head. “No. It’s not about that. You’re fine—everything’s fine.”

You pause, fingers tightening slightly around your cup. “If anything, it’s me. Not you.”

Han nods like he understands, like he really does. Then he grins.

“Or you can be honest and say that it’s my lame band.”

You laugh despite yourself. “No.”

He narrows his eyes at you as he says, “I can tell that you hated the band.”

“I didn’t hate it,” you correct honestly. “It’s just… not really my cup of tea. But it’s not lame.”

He hums, considering. “That’s good to hear.”

The conversation flows easier after that, lighter. He asks about your book, and you tell him you’re still working on it.

“Do I get a copy when it’s done?” he asks.

You smile. “Do you even read romance books?”

He shrugs. “What, you think a guy in a band can’t enjoy romance?”

You shrug back. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

The two of you laugh, and for the first time in days, the tension in your chest loosens. When Han eventually leaves, coffee cups empty and pastries half-gone, you realize you’re smiling, not because of what could’ve been, but because things ended exactly the way they should’ve.

-

You’re writing at Hyunjin’s coffee shop again like always and time slipping through your fingers without asking permission. Words come easily today, sentences stacking gently on top of each other.

You only realize how long it’s been when you lift your cup and find it empty. Before you can even sigh about it, a fresh one appears in front of you. You look up and find Hyunjin standing next to you, already smiling.

“Thanks,” you murmur, fingers curling around the warm ceramic.

He doesn’t move away. Instead, he leans in just enough that his voice drops, conspiratorial and soft. “Someone wants me to say this to you.”

You glance up at him through your lashes, already amused. “Yeah?”

“He says you’re beautiful,” Hyunjin continues, eyes bright, “and he wants to know if you’d like to have dinner with him and his very charming five-year-old son.”

Your smile blooms because you know exactly who that someone is, but you decide to play along. You lean in too, whispering back, “Tell him he shouldn’t flirt with his regular.”

Hyunjin’s smile turns smug. He leans even closer, close enough that only you can hear him. “Perks of being the owner.”

Before you can reply, he steals a kiss, almost sneaky. His plush lips brushing over yours and you kiss him back just as instinctively. When you pull away, you’re both smiling.

He straightens, gentle fingers squeezing your shoulder. “I’ll let you get back to it,” he says, already halfway gone, slipping back into the back of the counter.

You take a sip of coffee, warmth spreading through you, and turn back to your laptop. That’s when you hear the soft whispers from the table nearby. Girls giggling, voices hushed but not enough.

“I’m so jealous of them,” one says. “They’re so cute,” another sighs.

You pretend not to hear it and smile to yourself. Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a second longer than necessary as something settles in your chest.

This. Writing romance in the afternoon light. Sitting in a café that smells like coffee and home. A man who refills your cup before you ask. A child who holds your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Stolen kisses. Laughter, routine, warmth.

Then you look out of the window and at the city bathed in sunlight, the blue sky with cotton candy-like clouds, a bicycler who pets the dog that sits inside the front basket as he waits for the traffic light to turn green, a young girl sitting on the bench with headphones on, completely immersed in the book she’s reading, an elderly couple who hold hands as they argue over the restaurant menu.

You smile to yourself as you look back at your laptop and start typing again.

Hyunjin was right.

Everything is romantic.

-

Please support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙼𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗

Super chill Saturday morning in progress on the quiet, pine-lined street. Sun shining, birds chirping, squirrels squirreling… 

And a tortoiseshell cat stalking them by the kitchen window like a sharpshooter.

“They know you don’t intend to be friends with them, Missha,” you picked up the sassmeister and gently spanked her fluffy thighs, guiding her towards the very heated Call of Whatever game taking place in the living room. “Look, there are many eligible bachelors for you over there!”

The super chill part was a massive understatement, of course. When Ryder started high school, you had invited his friends over for breakfast one time, and three years later, Saturday Pancakes was still going strong with the exact same set of kids. No, sir, you were NOT going to acknowledge these rascals were about to be of age in the eyes of the law very soon. They were teething just yesterday, when the FUCK did they even start applying to colleges?

Somebody make time stop ASAP.

“Oh, shit!”

“RYDER, LANGUAGE!!!” you growled, pointing the detergent-covered spatula at him. 

When you had ‘the talk’ with your son, your first words were basically threatening to disown him if he got a girl pregnant at least before college graduation. While your parents did not approve of the emotional blackmail with their snotty tsks, you were hellbent on not having some girl live through the same fate you did. No one was ever ready for the responsibility of a child at such a young age. What responsibility when you’re a child yourself? Of course it wouldn’t work out if you got married just because you gave birth out of wedlock. 

Nevertheless, life had a way of making up for what seemed like the biggest fuckups at the time. You’d been blessed with a wonderful boy who might have matured a bit too early. Although it used to give you the worst case of cuteness aggression when he said stuff like “I’m the man of the house,” he was still eight when he first said that. Ten years later, however, nothing much had changed, really. Still a menace. Still so protective of you. Still your reason to live. On his way to becoming a wonderful man.

“NOPE, no becoming a man till you’re 30, brat, sit your ass down,” you mumbled under your breath, scrubbing the spatula harder like it offended your entire lineage. 

You would have loved to share your heart with one more person, of course, but you were getting a bit sick of your blind dates’ reaction to your motherhood. As if you were telling them you had a litter of eight. It wasn’t like you had a vast selection to pick from in a town as small as this, either. Anyone would eventually give up, and so did you, not that you were dying to trap someone in the first place. Your nuclear family of two finally expanded when you adopted Missha five years ago, and that was pretty much your life now. Uneventful, definitely chaotic, but at least happy. 

Genuinely happy.

You heard some commotion outside, growing even louder than the one in your living room. So much so that even the boys hit pause on their excessively stressful digital warfare and crowded the kitchen window.

“What the hell is happening over there?” you lowered your head to get a better view. 

There was a moving van parked by the house across the street, which had been on the market since January. A man was standing at the front door, talking to a small crowd made up of the entire single population of the neighborhood as well as a few moms. They were trampling each other to welcome this extremely good-looking new resident, and he was politely nodding at each of them, though slightly scared.

“Noooice, Khaleesi, you finally got your match,” Trevor smirked once he spotted the man among the trees. “We approve.”

“Who the fu—?”

You shot an instant death glare at Ryder, your eyes psychotically widened.

“Fine, I’ll keep it PG,” he sighed. “Who the heck are you to approve, my guy?”

“What? She’s our mom, too.” 

“I think the goshdarn not!”

“It doesn’t have the intended effect when you have the kids mode on, FYI,” Trevor patted Ryder’s back, then turned to you with the most up-to-no-good smile he could flash. “Go say hi.”

“EW, NO!” you immediately protested.

“Why the goshdarn not?!”

Because that would be desperate? Even you were judging the crowd about to swoon at that doorstep; who the fuck knows what people would think of you if they saw you among those groupies. Christ!

“It’s not something you can understand unless you’re a divorced woman, little man,” you pointed your Saturday regulars in the direction of their duffel bags. “Go get your butts ready. I’ll drive you to practice.”

Twelfth time that day…

Chris was going to have to replace the front door at this rate because people have been knocking on it all day to introduce themselves. With no regard to decorum, at that. Yes, it was hell degrees outside, and his personal uniforms consisted of tank tops and shorts, too. Nevertheless, with kids living under this roof, it was hard not to get uncomfortable when complete strangers showed up at his doorstep in nothing but swimwear, so revealing that they might as well have been naked. 

“Daddy, it’s Singing Giraffe time!” 

Two girls clung to their father’s legs as he was in the middle of getting acquainted with yet another neighbor.

“Oh, you have… kids,” the blonde who looked like the latest Playboy centerfold grimaced. “Is their mother home? I’d like to say hi.”

Smooth, Chris internally scoffed while the twins glared at the woman. Before he could produce an answer, however…

“Why? Are you going to ask us to go away because we don’t have a mom?” Harper hijacked the mic.

“Girls!”

“Oh, it’s alright! Kids say the darndest things, don’t they?” the clearly early-twenty-something laughed way too loudly. “So you’re… single, huh?”

“Daddy, what does single mean?” Piper looked up with gigantic eyes.

“It means go upstairs and get ready for bed,” Chris led his girls inside. “Say bye to Lisa.”

“Bye, Lisa,” they deadpanned in unison, and Piper added with no sense of self-control.

“Your boobies are out, Lisa. That’s not very nice.”

Chris was absolutely mortified, and if the ground had any plans of splitting open and swallowing him whole, right now would be ideal. 

“I am… so sorry,” he bowed his head in embarrassment. 

“It’s fine. Really,” Lisa giggled, subtly touching Chris’s arm. “I’ll see you around then, Daddy.”

Yup, Chris might have been guilty of enjoying a certain address back in his glory days, but ever since the day he learned he was going to be a father, it was now just… Well, it was no longer something he wanted to hear from girls barely above the legal drinking age. He mustered his very last drop of energy to drag himself to the twins’ room, but before he could take two steps, he heard yet another knock behind him.

“I swear to fucking GOD I’m getting a ‘Closed’ sign tomorrow,” he marched back to the front door and harshly opened it. “WHAT?!”

“Chill, man. I was just going to ask if you’ve seen a cat around,” a boy in his late teens stared him down, then gestured something like a rock in the air. “A small tortie, about this big, yellow collar around her neck?”

“Oh, I’m… so sorry, I thought you were… No, I haven’t seen any cats around, unfortunately,” he shook his head. “I’ll be on the lookout.”

“Thanks,” the boy bolted as quickly as he had appeared. 

Instead of going inside, Chris heaved a deep sigh and walked out, plopping on the porch swing for a moment’s peace. What a day. Yes, he had chosen this town himself because he’d heard great things about its people, but he certainly wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome. He couldn’t even get to unpacking, let alone finishing it.

The pine-lined street was finally calm. He was trying his best to resist the lullaby of crickets chirping and waves crashing in the distance, but when the warm night breeze started rocking him to sleep, he just gave in. Just five minutes. But he needed to put the girls to bed first. But five minutes. No, he needed to get up right now. But five—

“OW!”

A phantom punch in his stomach made him cough his lungs out. Ready to knock down some raccoon that manifested out of thin air, Chris immediately assumed a fighting stance. Well, at least he tried to, but that sleep paralysis demon weight wouldn’t budge an inch, sinking its claws deeper into his favorite sleeveless shirt to stay in place. 

A cat.

“Oh, wow, you’re beautiful,” he scratched under her chin, “even though you scared the bejesus out of me just now.”

When he turned the collar charm around, he saw a phone number engraved in there with a little message that said ‘I’m lost. Please call.’

“Smart. Maybe I should get one of these for my girls, too, yeah?” he giggled to himself and sat up. 

The cat got super comfortable in her new location, kneaded some biscuits, and curled up into a croissant to sleep. Fondly smiling at the little furball, Chris spent quite a while petting her. He couldn’t help but wonder if this marble cake was sent by some divine power because it seemed to have some freakish healing powers. The more she happily purred in his lap, the more he felt this block of lead weighing him down for years on end… 

…shrinking.

“HARPER! DADDY GOT A CAT!”

The scream of severe cuteness aggression startled the new couple on the swing to death, effectively concluding the peace-and-quiet time. As the cat tried to hide away inside his shirt, Chris very carefully pulled her out, earning himself a few scratches as souvenir tattoos.

“Shh, easy,” he pacified his girls. “She’s not ours, baby. Be very, very gentle, okay?”

As the twins were petting the cat like they were entrusted with delicate china, Chris reached for his phone and dialed the number on the collar, admittedly a bit reluctantly.

“Hi, is this the human of… Missha?”

The window between returning from your carpool duties and Ryder coming home like a miniature Hulk was all the time you had to tend to work affairs on Saturdays. The stampede danger was finally eliminated with the crowd dispersed. You could hear yourself think again.

“Oh my god, like, you’re so cuuute! Is your dad home?”

Why would you jinx yourself like that? Just why?

You looked through the kitchen window to spot the source of the shriek that disturbed Missha. Someone was calling on your new neighbor again, but instead of him, there were twin girls at the door, looking visibly annoyed.

“Yes,” the one in sun-patterned pajamas answered, though with the exasperation of a woman who had been through five divorces.

“Can I see him?”

“No.”

“But why not?”

“You’re a stranger.”

“My name is Lisa. Now can I see your dad?”

“Girl, you just do not get father-infant daughter relationships at all, do you?” you contorted your face in cringe, sipping on the coffee you had started brewing before leaving home.

“You don’t even know our names!” the one in the moon-patterned pajamas yelled this time.

“Okay, what are your names then?”

“Daddy says plastic is harmful. You can’t come in.”

SLAM!

“Jesus christ, is that what he teaches these girls?!” you tsked to yourself, then settled down at the kitchen table to get to work. 

You thought you had a solid few hours to complete the day’s checklist, but alas… You could recall blinking at some point, then all of a sudden, it was nighttime. If it weren’t for Ryder’s majestic entrance, you weren’t even going to realize it was dinner time already.

“Hey, Mom! I’m hitting the shower. I’ll be right down,” he stormed in and immediately dashed towards the stairs.

“Ryder, door first,” you called out to him to close it, your eyes still on the screen.

But no clank was heard. 

“Ryder!”

Not a peep. 

“I swear to fucking god. Every time,” you grunted to yourself and closed the door on His Majesty’s behalf. Considering the immense pain right below your right shoulder blade, it was probably time you called it a day anyway. 

Per the commandments of your household, the cuntress had to have her meals first. You refilled Missha’s bowl, which she could normally hear from ten miles away and teleport herself to the kitchen, but the entire house was completely still. You scoured each room, looked inside all the cracks large enough for her to pour herself through, but…

“RYDER, GET DOWN HERE! MISSHA’S GONE!!!”

You took the left side of the street while he took the right, but the door-to-door search yielded no results. Damn this girl’s camouflage coat that made her blend into any backdrop. You started to freak out even harder when you returned home empty-handed. It was dark out; who knows what the hell kind of wild animals were out there. The street wasn’t super well-lit, either. What if a passing car didn’t have its headlights on?

“What’s the protocol for lost cats? DO WE CALL THE POLICE?!” you started frantically pacing in the kitchen. 

“First, we calm down,” Ryder held your shoulders and sat you down on a chair. “I’ll go grab my computer, and we’ll look into this, okay? I promise we’ll find her.”

You were taking deep breaths, which, apparently, was a total bullshit recommendation being perpetuated. It had zero impact on calming you down. Your hands were still trembling, and you were nervously shaking your legs under the table. 

You almost knocked over the entire table when you lunged at your phone to pick up the call from an unknown number.

“Hi, is this the human of… Missha?”

“YES!” you screamed, already grabbing your car keys and heading out. “Could you give me your address, please? I’ll be right over.”

“Uh… I was going to offer to bring her home, but sure,” the man on the phone answered. “1546 Ocean Drive.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, then slowly turned around to look at your door with 1545 written next to it. When you narrowed your eyes and stared into the darkness, the only thing you could make out was some white shirt of sorts thanks to the streetlights ricocheting off of it. 

“Are you the dude on the porch right now?” 

He turned to his left to spot someone on the phone and eventually saw you standing by the front door.

“Oh, hi!” he waved at you as a makeshift location pin. “Yes, I w—”

You immediately hung up and booked it towards the white shirt guy. The approaching stomps were growing so loud that even Missha’s fur was standing on end out of fear. 

“THERE YOU ARE!” you hugged the crap out of the poor animal. “You scared the bejesus out of me. Don’t run away like that again!” 

The man looked at you with something akin to surprise in his eyes, then flashed a bright smile. 

“I am so sorry. She gets really feisty when she’s stressed. I hope she didn’t scratch too deep,” you addressed your lord and savior at long last.

“Feisty?” he cocked a brow. “She’s been sleeping on my lap the whole time.” 

“Girl, did you have something against me all along?” you gasped at Missha’s betrayal. 

“Can’t we please keep her, Daddy?”

Only then did you realize that you weren’t alone on that porch. The twins, and frankly the best roastmasters you’d ever seen, were pulling on their father’s hands, with eyes so huge that you had half a mind to offer joint custody to these girls.

“They’ve been begging for a cat forever,” he scratched his nape.

“But she’s my little girl,” you kneeled at their eye level. “You would be very sad if someone took away your daddy, too, right?”

They nodded in unison, still pouting.

“What are your names?” you asked with a smile. 

They looked at their father for permission. When they received the approving nod, they graced you with an answer.

“I’m Piper.”

“I’m Harper.” 

“Nice to meet you, Piper and Harper. I’m Missha’s mom,” you shook each of their tiny hands.

“Are you a teacher, too, Missha’s mom?”

“I own a bookstore,” you replied. “Do you like books?”

“Daddy reads Singing Giraffe to us every night.”

“Daddy might need an update on his repertoire,” you looked him up and down, then pointed at your house. “Tell you what. If your dad gives permission, would you like to be Missha’s new friends?”

“PLEASE DADDY, CAN WE?!”

“Only if I can be her friend, too. I mean, we already got a situationship going on, so…” the man set forth his sole condition. “But NOT if you don’t go to bed right now!” 

“Good night, Missha’s mom!” the twins bolted inside right away.

You waved them goodbye, unable to control your endeared laughter. They reminded you of the day you learned Ryder’s gender all of a sudden. If the doctor said ‘It’s a girl’ then, would this be your reality by any chance?

“Welcome to the neighborhood, by the way,” you extended your hand to the man still staring at you with a smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t drop by earlier. Your front porch was like a meet and greet.”

“Chris,” he warmly shook your hand. “I apologize for the scene. The neighborhood is a little… friendly.”

“What an interesting spelling for DILF hunter,” you uttered with a completely straight face. Even though he burst out laughing, he seemed a bit flustered.

“Is it… that obvious that I’m single?” 

“Hmm,” you squinted and started checking out the surroundings. “Sedan in the driveway, zero plants on the front porch, your wife would have killed you already if she saw the porch this muddy, so yeah, you’re basically glowing in the dark.”

“Wow, you’re good,” he let out a heartfelt laugh.

That sound reached your ears, and you felt something flutter in your chest. Something familiar, but not quite. Something you seemed to have long forgotten.

Still on the tip of your tongue somehow.

“Good night, Chris,” you excused yourself. “Thank you once again.”

“Anytime,” he nodded, smile still intact.

Once your door closed in the distance, Chris finally went inside to take the stage for his daily Singing Giraffe performance. Unlike any other evening, however, the girls seemed to be extra alert this time, whispering stuff to each other in absolute glee.

“What are you giggling about so much?” he asked as he took his seat by the bed.

“Daddy?” Harper clung to his arm.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Missha has a mom.”

“Yes, she does.”

“Can’t she be our mom, too?”

Of course, she didn’t mean any ill by that; they were just tiny, pure souls. They had no way of knowing how crushing it was for one parent to hear this when they were trying so hard to be both. 

Knowing full well they were never going to be a match for the missing half. 

“I don’t think she’d want that, baby,” he caressed his girl’s curls that were identical to his. “Shall we continue Singing Giraffe now?”

❥ Reblog & drop your feedback to read Singing Giraffe to twins with Chris.

「© 2023-26, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I asked you who your Comfortopher is, and you said you wanted the DILF dude, so here he is. Time to make your metaphorical ovaries explode.

Welcome to Summerland!🏝️

Summerland is part of an emotive project Mari and I started alllll the way back during Rockstar era, and it's finally seeing the light of day. It's the "happiness" installment of the collection, so I'm legally obligated to put a cw here:

CAUTION: DISGUSTING AMOUNTS OF TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF AHEAD!

Bring out your polaroid cameras and enjoy this wholesome journey that has no other purpose than giving you the warm and fuzzies. Let me know what you think! ^^

P.S: Missha is my goddaughter, and she is as unamused irl as she is in the story.

📋 Permanent taglist (Form here if you wish to join): @straywrds @lee-omens-fics @skzfelixlove @surreallyst-void @krayzieestay @tirena1 @idiotmaterial @hwangjoanna @vvamp3 @tsunderelino @stayjinnie @dessianna1 @palindrome969 @unimportantweirdo @vixensss @homelessmeowmeow @birdiebangsworld @biribarabiribbaem @compersian @wobblewobble822 @pixie-felix @deaddovesandstraykids @wanna-plan-world-domination @ariaaleelynn @littlestcheese @91dreams91things @whatifthisaintreal @akindaflora @ebnabi @hyunjinsicecream @lvnanazz @pinkflowerdream @binniewalrus @agalitzine

Felix has never been this nervous in his entire life. Not during culinary competitions.

Not even when he proposed to you. Yet somehow, standing here now in front of the sliding doors leading to the reveal hallway feels infinitely more terrifying.

His hands stay clasped tightly in front of him, fingers rubbing anxiously together while he tries to properly breathe despite the violent pounding of his heartbeat. Because on the other side of those doors is you. The woman whose voice became his fiancée in less than a week.

Felix swallows hard and shifts his weight slightly, trying not to bounce nervously in place. He wonders what you’re doing right now. If you’re nervous too. If you’re pacing the room or fixing your dress for countless of time like he does. Because in a few seconds, everything is going to change. Because after days of imagining your face and your eyes and the way your lips curve when you smile— He finally gets to see it for real.

Felix closes his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply. Then exhales. Again. And again. The nerves twisting through him right now aren’t about whether he still wants this. He wants this more than anything. It’s the opposite that scares him.

What if you look at him and something shifts? What if he doesn’t fit the version of him you created in your head? The thought unsettles him because no matter how emotionally connected you two are, physical attraction still exists in the real world outside the pods.

All of a sudden, Felix feels painfully aware of every tiny insecurity he normally ignores. Does his hair look okay? Should he’ve picked a different suit? What if you think he’s ugly? What if—

The producer’s voice cuts through his spiraling. “Ready, Felix?”

He laughs softly under his breath because he’s not ready. Not entirely.  But still, he nods. Because no amount of fear could possibly make him turn around now. Not when it’s you waiting on the other side.

-

FELIX: I genuinely can’t believe this experiment worked. Like… of all places to find my future wife? Behind a wall on reality television? [laughs] But somehow it happened. And I think that’s what makes this moment feel so overwhelming. Because now it’s real and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared about meeting face-to-face for the first time. [nervously chuckles] What if I don’t fit her expectations? [thinly smiles]

-

You think this might be the most nervous you’ve ever been in your entire life. You stand directly in front of the sliding doors leading to the reveal hallway, trying very hard to keep yourself composed. Trying and failing, more like. Because your palms are sweating so badly you keep wiping them against your dress every few seconds only for them to immediately become damp again.

“Oh my god,” you whisper under your breath. Your chest rises as you inhale deeply through your nose, forcing yourself to breathe slower.

You’re okay. You’re fine. This is Felix. The same Felix who makes you laugh until your cheeks hurt. The same Felix who listens carefully when you talk about painful things. The same Felix who promised to love you unconditionally through a glowing wall while your entire heart shook in your chest.

It’s Felix, your fiancé.The words send another nervous wave crashing through your stomach.

In the pods, you only had feelings. Voices. Emotional connection. Out here, reality exists again and despite trying to calm yourself down, your thoughts keep spiraling anyway. What if he looks at you and hesitates? What if you disappoint him? What if he expected someone prettier, more elegant—

“Nope,” you mutter quickly to yourself, cutting the thought off before it can claw at you.

You straighten your shoulders slightly and inhale again. Because no matter how scared you are, one thing remains painfully true beneath all the panic: You want him.

Maybe that’s why this feels so overwhelming because Felix somehow slipped past every defense you built around yourself over the years without even trying. A man you’ve never seen before somehow became one of the safest places you’ve ever known.

Then suddenly, a mechanical sound echoes through the hallway. The doors begin sliding open and your entire world changes with them.

-

YOU: I still can’t believe this worked [softly laughs] Like genuinely… I came here thinking this whole thing was a bust already. [laughs] and now somehow, I found someone who aligns with me so naturally it scares me. Felix feels… [softly smiles] Like a star that just fell right onto my lap.

-

Felix inhales deeply the second the doors begin sliding open and there you are, standing at the other end of the hallway like something pulled straight out of a dream he’s been building in his head for days.

For one suspended moment, the entire world goes quiet. Felix just stares because somehow, you’re even more beautiful than anything he imagined. Soft lights glow around you while your eyes immediately find his, widening slightly before your entire face breaks into the brightest smile he’s ever seen. And instantly, his own lips curve upward so hard his cheeks ache.

Felix doesn’t hesitate. He half-jogs down the hallway toward you before you can even properly start walking his way, laughter bubbling out of him from pure disbelief and happiness.

You’re laughing too now, nervous and overwhelmed while continuing to mutter soft, breathless little oh my gods under your breath as he gets closer and closer.

The second he reaches you, his arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you flush against him like he’s been waiting forever to do it. And whoa— You’re real.

Before he can even process the feeling fully, Felix instinctively leans in and kisses you. Just this overwhelming pull dragging him straight to you the second he touches you. The kiss lands a little stiff at first from nerves, then soften and deepens almost immediately beneath shared relief and disbelief and emotion overflowing too fast to contain properly.

And god, it’s everything he hoped it would be. More, actually. Kissing you feels strangely familiar like finding something he didn’t realize he’d been missing.

When Felix finally pulls back, breathless and smiling, his arms stay tightly around your waist while yours loop instinctively around his shoulders, holding him just as close. You feel exactly the way he imagined it would feel. Exactly the way he wanted it to feel.

Felix presses his mouth close to your ear, overwhelmed emotion making his voice smaller than usual. “You feel like a dream to me.”

A soft laugh escapes you immediately against the crook of his neck, warm breath brushes the skin there.

He leans in closer, lips grazing your ears as he whispers again, “I’m never going to let you go.”

Your arms tighten slightly around him at that and then softly, with that smile still lingering in your voice, your murmur, “I hope not.”

Slowly, reluctantly, the two of you pull back just enough to properly look at each other. Your hands slide down naturally until your fingers lace together between you.

Felix swears he could stare at you forever. Because you’re looking at him the exact same way he’s looking at you — bright-eyed and stunned and full of disbelief that this person is finally real.

You blink at him slowly before your free hand lifts carefully toward his face. Your fingertips brush lightly against his jaw, almost hesitant. Like you’re still making sure he exists.

“Did you just walk out of a fairytale?” you ask, voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

Felix not sure if he heard you right. “Mmh?”

“You literally look like a prince charming,” you answer softly.

Felix laughs quietly, cheeks immediately warming. His hands lift to cup your face gently between them before he leans down and kisses you again. This one slower and full of intention. Everything unspoken spills into it naturally — the pod conversations, the vulnerability, the fear, the certainty, the impossible feeling of finding each other through a wall.

When Felix pulls away this time, his forehead rests lightly against yours while he breathes softly through a smile. “I love you.”

The words leave him effortlessly because he’s been planning on saying it to you because it only feels right to him to do it in person. Yet he can’t deny that saying those words out loud terrifies him a little.

Your expression softens immediately into something unbearably tender. “I love you too.”

The answer comes just as naturally and a second later, your eyes widen slightly like it’s only sink into you just now. The wight of those words. “Did I just say that?”

Felix bursts into laughter immediately and you follow suit a second later, burying your face briefly against his shoulder in embarrassment while he holds you tighter, grinning so hard his face hurts.

Because this is real.

You are real.

-

FELIX: It was too perfect [shyly laughs] And she’s so beautiful. [shakes head in disbelief] Like actually unfairly beautiful. But more than that… It still felt like her. [smiles] I couldn’t be happier that it’s her. She’s genuinely too good to be true.

-

You can’t stop staring at him and honestly, you think your brain might’ve stopped functioning the second Felix walked through those doors. Because how is he real? How is this the same man whose deep voice murmured softly to you through speakers at midnight? The same man who joked about seven children and kangaroos and tiny chef hats?

He looks like something out of a fairytale. Lean and solid and devastatingly beautiful under the warm lights of the reveal hallway, blond hair falling perfectly around his face while his eyes stay locked on yours like he still can’t believe you’re real either.

Prince charming. That’s genuinely the only thing your overwhelmed brain can come up with right now. And absurdly enough, that deep voice does not match this face at all.

You let out a small disbelieving chuckle under your breath, still staring at him while your fingers remain tangled together between you.

You shake your head immediately, smiling helplessly. “My prince charming…” You murmur almost to yourself.

However, Felix’s expression changes slightly, nervousness flickering across his face again as one of his hands slips free from yours and moves toward the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He softly smiles while pulling out a small velvet ring box.

And despite already saying yes in the pods. Despite technically already being engaged, seeing it happen here in front of you feels entirely different.

Felix opens the box carefully before taking the ring out first and then slowly, he gets down on one knee.

No part of you ever genuinely believed moments like this would happen to you. Not like this and definitely with someone looking at you the way Felix is looking at you now. With so much affection, so much trust, so much hope — it almost makes your knees weak.

Felix glances up at you with the softest smile before asking, “Will you still marry me?”

In that moment, all your fear suddenly disappears because the answer feels easy now. You know that even if those doors had opened and he looked completely different. Even if he looked nothing like the version you imagined—

You still would’ve chosen him. Over and over again. Without hesitation. Without doubt.

Your eyes sting warmly again as you smile down at him and in conviction, you answer, “Yes.”

Felix’s entire face brightens and the smile that spreads across his face looks ethereal in its happiness as he carefully slides the ring onto your finger. And somehow, that tiny weight settling there makes everything hit you all over again.

You’re engaged.

Felix lifts your hand carefully afterward, holding it so gently and then presses a soft kiss on the ring perched on your finger.

“Oh my god,” you whisper shakily.

Felix laughs softly before standing again and immediately pulling you back into his arms.

This hug feels warm and full, like something inside him finally relaxed hearing your answer in person. And then he kisses you again. And again. Small kisses between laughter and smiles and shaky breaths like he physically can’t stop touching you now that he finally can.

You kiss him back just as desperately. Because every emotion you’ve been carrying for days suddenly has somewhere real to go.

When Felix finally breaks away, he leans close to your ear again to whisper, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

The words hit you right in the chest Because even now, part of you still feels like this can’t possibly be real. “Please keep holding me tight,” you mumble softly against his neck as you tighten your arms around his shoulders. “So I know this is real.”

Felix lets out the softest laugh and then unexpectedly, his arms tighten around you even more and suddenly your feet are off the floor.

You squeal immediately, clutching onto him as he spins you around in a slow circle, laughing breathlessly while dizziness and happiness crash through you all at once.

His laughter vibrates against you warmly before he finally sets you down carefully only to kiss you again immediately afterward like he still can’t get enough. Like neither of you can quite believe the other actually exists.

Eventually, the staff gently signals that your time is almost up. Reality creeps back in too quickly. Reluctantly, the two of you slowly separate just enough to properly look at each other again.

Your fingers remain tightly intertwined with him. “I’ll see you again soon,” you tell him softly.

Felix smiles instantly at that and leans forward to place one more kiss against your lips. And another against the ring on your finger. Then slowly and reluctantly, he lets your hand go.

The two of you begin walking backward toward your separate waiting rooms, neither able to fully stop looking at each other. Every few steps, one of you glances back again. Then both of you do. Again and again. Until you’re both laughing softly at how ridiculous you probably look.

Still, you can’t stop smiling at him. Not even for a second.

By the time you reach your doorway, you lift your hand toward him in a small wave.

Felix immediately does the same, smiling so warmly your chest tightens all over again. Then the sliding doors close between you.

The second they shut, you completely collapse backward onto the tiny sofa inside the waiting room. Your hands immediately fly to your face, feel the blood rushing in your cheeks.

“Oh my god.”

Your voice echoes through the empty room while your heartbeat still refuses to slow down.

Because against all logic, you really did just meet the man you’re going to marry.

-

YOU: The emotional connection between us is so strong that seeing him in person honestly didn’t change anything. It just confirmed everything I already felt. [Shyly laughs] And yes, obviously I think he’s attractive. And now I’m just really excited for the vacation. [smiles] I’ve been emotionally respectful for five whole days. [mischievously grins] And I think my fiancé deserves to get taken advantage of a little. [laughs]

-

The hotel suite is beautiful. But honestly, Felix barely notices it at first because he’s too busy watching you.

The second the two of you step inside, your entire face lights up with quiet wonder as you slowly take in the room around you. It’s spacious, the furniture are all cream-colored, rose petals scattered on the bed while massive windows stretch across almost the entire wall overlooking the ocean outside.

You wander farther inside almost instinctively, fingertips brushing lightly against the flower arrangement on the coffee table before you disappear toward the balcony doors.

Felix follows without even thinking about it like his body already naturally gravitates toward wherever you are.

The sliding doors open softly, letting in warm evening air carrying traces of salt from the sea below. Most of the sunlight has already faded now, leaving the sky painted in deep shades of blue and orange while the ocean glimmers faintly in the distance beyond the resort lights.

You step closer toward the metal railing, leaning against it slightly while staring out at the view. “It’s so beautiful,” you murmur quietly to yourself.

To Felix, you are the only beautiful view he sees. Especially with the way the wind pushes softly through your hair while the fading sunset casts warm light across your face, and suddenly he feels that same overwhelming disbelief all over again.

You are his fiancée.

Slightly shaking his head in disbelief, he steps closer behind you before slipping both arms gently around your waist and you immediately melt against him like you belong there.

Felix rests his chin lightly against your shoulder while the two of you stare out toward the ocean together. The warmth of your body against his feels grounding somehow after how surreal the last few days have been. You continue quietly admiring the view beneath your breath while his arms tighten just slightly around you.

The silence that settles between you isn’t awkward at all. It’s the kind of silence that feels intimate rather than empty. Felix thinks he could stay like this forever honestly. Just holding you while the world slows down around both of you.

Then after a while, you slowly turn your head slightly toward him. Your eyes meet his from over your shoulder. And there’s that look again. That warm disbelief. That softness that seems reserved only for him now.

“I still can’t believe all of this,” you honestly share, voice so small yet heavy with disbelief. “It feels like a fairytale.”

“Well, you deserve it,” he assures you, playfully touching your nose with his. “Everything and more.”

Then he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. The kind of kiss that feels less overwhelming yet somehow even more intimate because of it.

Your fingers lightly curl around his forearms while you kiss him back immediately, smiling softly against his mouth halfway through it.

Felix smiles too because kissing you already feels dangerously addictive and the craziest part is this is only the beginning.

-

FELIX: I’m really excited for this part. [laughs] Because in the pods, we connected emotionally first. And I love that we got to build that foundation before anything else. But now… [smiles] I get to actually spend real time with her, getting to know her better… [slyly grins] physically.

-

Dinner on the balcony somehow feels even more surreal. Maybe because now there’s no wall between you anymore. Just you and Felix sitting across from each other with the glow of the candlelight that’s swaying along with the sea breeze while the distant ocean hums softly somewhere beyond the darkness.

The trip to get here exhausted both of you enough that the second the food arrived, neither of you even tried pretending to be elegant about it. Somewhere between the casual chat and feeding each other, the atmosphere softens into something warm and intimate.

At one point, Felix insists on making you try a combination of food from his plate. “Trust me,” he says confidently while holding the fork toward you.

“You’re literally a chef. If this tastes bad, your whole reputation collapses.”

Felix dramatically gasps. “You wound me.”

Still, you lean forward and take the bite from the fork anyway and he’s right, it’s incredible.

“Oh, yeah,” you mutter while nodding in approval.

Felix grins proudly and for a moment you just sit there quietly looking at him while your chest is flooded with happiness. Because everything feels perfect right now. The suite. The ocean breeze. The food. The view. Him. Especially him.

Eventually the plates empty out, leaving only half-finished glasses of wine between you while the night deepens around the resort. You sit curled slightly sideways in your chair while Felix sits close enough that your knees brush occasionally under the table.

It’s hard not to notice the way he cannot stop looking at you. At all. Every time you glance up, his eyes are already on you, soft and focused, but enough to make your stomach flip embarrassingly hard. And he’s always touching you too like he’s afraid that you’re just fragment of his imagination if he weren’t.

Now his hand softly rubs up and down your bare arm absentmindedly while he stares at you like he’s still trying to process that you’re real. “Beautiful,” he murmurs quietly.

Your heart stumbles immediately and you tilt your head slightly to the side, a teasing smile pulls at your lips. “The view? The suite? Me? You?”

Felix softly laughs before shaking his head. “Everything’s beautiful,” he admits, gaze softens as he stares at your face. “But mostly you.”

He says it so naturally like it’s simply factual. Then his fingers gently catch beneath your chin afterward, guiding your face toward him before he leans in and kisses you tenderly. The kind of kiss that melts through you instead of overwhelming you.

When he pulls away, you can’t stop yourself from smiling at him immediately afterward.

Felix smiles too, almost helplessly, before his hand drops lower toward your side. The back of his fingers brush lightly against the exposed skin beneath your cropped top. The touch is gentle, tender even. But the way he looks at you while doing it suddenly feels intense somehow. Like he’s actively holding himself back from touching you more.

The realization sends heat rushing straight through your body. So softly, flirtatiously, you ask, “So… what’s next?”

Felix’s eyes flicker toward yours immediately. The corner of his mouth lifts into a half smirk. “We can do whatever we want.”

You keep your composure and lean a little closer across the small space between you, faintly biting your lower lip before asking innocently, “Whatever?”

Felix immediately breaks into a sheepish grin. It’s adorable and dangerously attractive. Still, despite the obvious tension thickening quietly between you now, his voice remains gentle when he answers, “We don’t have to rush anything just because we’re engaged. I want you comfortable.”

Your expression softens at that. Especially with the way he gazes into you with his small, doe eyes.

“I’ll only move at your pace,” he adds with such warmth that keeps sneaking past every defense you’ve ever built.

You softly smile at him and glide your hand up his arm. “I really said yes to the right man, huh?”

Felix’s smile turns sheepish once more and you lean forward, capturing it in a tender kiss. And he tastes so sweet, sweeter than any desserts.

-

YOU: Yes. I definitely want to use this vacation to get to know Felix better. But also… he’s ridiculously hot [slyly grins] I just can’t wait to tear his clothes off and jump his bones. [shamelessly laughs]

-

The bathroom is almost as big as the suite itself and the warm lights creates this soft haze as steam slowly fills the air from the tub you’re currently preparing near the window overlooking the dark ocean outside.

Felix honestly doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act normal right now. Because suddenly domesticity with you feels dangerously intimate.

You sit on the edge of the tub, one hand steadily control the faucets to find the perfect mix of hot and cold water. Your toiletries scattered beside his on the counter already like the two of you have known which side to take. His chest suddenly overflowed with warm feeling.

Felix stands by the sink unpacking his toiletry bag, dressed only in black boxer briefs while the hotel bathrobe hangs loosely off his shoulders. His hair is slightly messy from the humidity already beginning to gather in the room. Meanwhile his brain is trying very hard not to short-circuit every time he looks at you. Which is difficult. Very difficult.

Felix pulls his toothbrush from the bag before pausing abruptly. He rummages through it and realizes that he only packed a toothbrush, but no toothpaste.

“Hey, can I borrow your toothpaste?” he asks, turning slightly to the side.

You glance over your shoulder briefly while dipping your fingers into the bathwater to check the temperature. “No.”

Felix turns toward you immediately with a betrayed expression. “No?”

The second he sees the tiny smile tugging at your mouth, realization hits him. You don’t mean it. You’re joking.

You burst into laughter almost immediately afterward and walk toward him. “Of course you can borrow mine. What’s mine is yours now,” you warmly say.

You said it so simply, so matter-of-factly but it hits him square on the chest. Especially with the way you lean closer after and press a featherlight kiss against his jaw.

Felix exhales softly at the contact automatically, one of his hands settling instinctively against your waist.

Your palm rests against his chest for a moment afterward. Your eyes steady on his. Then, your hand glides downward, fingers lightly trailing over the toned planes of his stomach. Your eyes flick down as you’re following the trail of body hair that leads you lower and lower until it disappears beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“I like this,” you murmur so softly it almost like a whisper.

Felix completely stops functioning for a second. His face grows warm while his heart hammering inside his chest. Because the look you’re giving him right now is soft and playful and seductive enough to make his brain completely blank out.

And your hand is still there, resting lightly against the waistband of his boxer briefs while you stare up at him through your lashes with the faintest smile curling at your lips.

Felix swallows hard while your smile widens, clearly enjoying his struggle. Then after letting him suffer for another second, you finally pull away.

“The tub’s ready,” you announce casually like you didn’t just nearly kill him.

You don’t wait for another response though. Instead, you turn toward the tub and he watches through the mirror as your fingers slowly untie your bathrobe. Not long after, the robe slips from your shoulders and then falls soundlessly to the floor.

All of a sudden, every coherent thought leaves his body entirely. You’re beautiful. Devastatingly so. His eyes drift helplessly over the curve of your back, the soft lines of your body illuminated under the soft bathroom lighting while you step carefully toward the tub.

One foot first, then the other. And slowly, you lower yourself into the water with a soft sigh.

Felix stares at your reflection in the mirror for one suspended second too long before dragging both hands over his face.

Lord, give me strength.

-

FELIX: I’m just a man at the end of the day [grins] I’m trying to be respectful. But she’s… [sighs] she’s beautiful. Insanely beautiful and she knows what she’s doing… [shakes head] [sucks air through his teeth] I need everyone to understand that I’m fighting for my life in there. [laughs]

-

You sink deeper into the warm water with a soft sigh, trying very hard to act normal. Because Felix is still standing there by the sink looking unfairly good in nothing but messy blond hair, sculpted abs on show, black boxer briefs, and a bathrobe barely hanging from his shoulders like it’s fighting for its life. Meanwhile you’ve been waiting for him to join you for what feels like forever now.

“Felix,” you call out impatiently.

He glances at you over his shoulder immediately, amused already. “Hm?”

“Get in.”

A soft chuckle leaves him at your tone. But he still doesn’t move fast enough for your liking.

You dramatically stack your hands together against the edge of the tub before resting your chin on top of them, staring directly at him now.

“Come, get in already,” you coax sweetly.

Felix laughs at your impatience, finally turning fully toward you this time. His fingers slip toward the opening of the bathrobe first, slowly tugging it from his shoulders.

You’ve already spent the entire evening trying not to stare at him too much, trying to behave like a normal fiancée instead of someone one step away from climbing him like a tree. But the second the robe falls away completely—

Oh.

Oh, wow.

You physically stop yourself from gasping out loud. Your eyes stay locked on him shamelessly now while something sparks within you and throughout your body. Because he looks even better than you imagined. Toned stomach. Dainty waist. Lean muscle softened just enough to still look gentle instead of intimidating.

He’s beautiful. Completely unfair to exist in real life.

He notices your stare immediately and doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest. If anything, his mouth twitches upward slightly at the corners. And goodness, that unwavering confidence is the sexiest part of him.

Without breaking the eye contact, his fingers hook into the waistband of his boxer briefs. And despite trying very hard to maintain composure, your eyes widen just slightly while you watch him slowly push the fabric down his hips.

You don’t even pretend not to look anymore. Your gaze openly sweeps over his body while your brain quietly short-circuits. Every part of him is perfectly sculpted. Especially that part. Soft and hard at the same time somehow. And the sheer size of it — makes you gulp air instinctively.

When your eyes finally meet again, there’s undeniable heat lingering there between both of you now.

Felix absolutely senses that too. Still, he says nothing. He keeps looking at you with that same confidence while stepping into the tub. The water shifts gently as he lowers himself in slowly across from you, careful not to send water spilling over the edge.

Then, he’s here. With you. Warm skin. Damp hair. Soft eyes fixed entirely on you.

Felix settles comfortably against the opposite side of the tub before lifting his gaze toward yours again. The smile he gives you immediately makes your stomach flutter. It’s loving, but definitely not innocent anymore.

You reach for your champagne glass first before lifting it slightly toward him and he mirrors the gesture automatically. The delicate clink of glass echoes softly through the steamy bathroom. Then both of you quietly sip your drinks while looking at each other over the rims of your glasses.

And with the look Felix gives you, you’re pretty sure you’re in trouble.

-

YOU: I think it’s wise to take things slow. But have you seen him? [Widens eyes] I genuinely can’t. And god knows how long it’s been since— [stops] [shyly covers face with both hands] [looks at the camera] You’re going to see some real action tonight [laughs]

-

Felix is trying very hard to stay calm. Very. Hard.

Which would probably be easier if you stopped looking at him like that. Or if you weren’t currently half-submerged in warm water looking soft and flushed and entirely too comfortable wrapped in steam and candlelight. Or if his entire love language wasn’t physical touch.

Because now that you’re finally here with him — real and tangible and within reach — keeping his hands to himself feels nearly impossible. So naturally, one of his hands slips under the water until his fingers gently find your leg, rubbing softly along the side of it.

The touch is absentminded at first. Affectionate. But the second you smile at the feeling, his chest warms instantly.

“I like how physical you are,” you murmur softly, toes rubbing at the inside of his thigh.

Felix grins immediately. “Yeah?”

You nod. “I can tell physical touch is your thing.”

A playful look flashes across his face. “Oh, I’m very physical.”

You chuckle warmly at that, shaking your head slightly like you already know exactly what kind of trouble he’s going to be.

His fingers continue gliding slowly along your leg before gently lifting your foot out of the water. He doesn’t hesitate, but leans down and presses a soft kiss against your ankle. The gesture feels strangely intimate, tender in a way that makes his chest ache unexpectedly.

He lowers your leg carefully back into the water afterward and continues rubbing the side of your shin.

“If you’re very physical,” you mutter, placing your champagne flute down on the edge of the tub. “Then why are you over there?”

His brain barely processes the question before you’re already moving toward him. Water shifts around both of you as you carefully crawl into his side of the tub, and he instinctively braces a hand against your waist to steady you.

Then unexpectedly, you turn around and settle yourself directly against him instead. Your back presses flush against his chest while warm water ripples around both your bodies.

Oh, no, this is dangerous. Very dangerous. Yet, his arms wrap around you automatically anyway like there was never any other option.

You tilt your head slightly toward him afterward, murmuring softly, “It’s so much better.”

Felix smiles, mostly because he’s trying very hard not to completely lose composure right now. So instead of letting his hands wander where he desperately wants them to, he settles them carefully against your stomach instead. His fingers rub slow absentminded circles against your skin while he tries to focus on literally anything else besides the feeling of your body pressed against his. Which is impossible because the slightest of movement makes him more aware of you. The warmth of your skin. The softness of your body against his chest. The heat slowly building between both of you that has absolutely nothing to do with the water temperature anymore.

You sink deeper into him comfortably, like you belong there. Then your hands settle over his.

And when you turn your head to look back at him, your eyes say everything without you needing to speak. Want. Curiosity. Invitation.

The look pulls him toward you instantly like gravity. Felix leans in without thinking and kisses you. The kiss feels different. Deeper and hungrier. Your lips part softly beneath his, and the second you kiss him back, something inside him unravels a little further.

Your fingers suddenly tighten around one of his hands, slowly guiding it upward and placing it on your breast. It amazes him that your soft mound perfectly fits his hand. Like it was made for him.

Instinct takes over immediately. His palm cups you gently while his thumb strokes your hardening bud under the water. A low moan escapes you into his mouth that nearly destroys whatever restraint he has left. He kisses you deeper instinctively, his mouth opening against yours while his fingers knead softly at your breast.

Your hand tightens around his wrist and when his tongue brushes against yours, you immediately meet him halfway, kissing him back with enough intensity to make his head spin.

Everything suddenly feels hot and dizzy and overwhelming all at once. Your lips crash against his again and again while water shifts around both your bodies with every movement. And somewhere in the middle of it, Felix realizes things are escalating very, very quickly.

-

FELIX: What was I supposed to do with that? [chuckles] It’s like fire meeting gasoline. Nothing can stop this kind of chemistry [mischievously grins]

-

Your mouth crashes against Felix’s again before either of you can properly think about slowing down. But to be honest, you can’t stop kissing him. Not when he kisses you so passionately, so hungrily and so affectionately all at once. Every time his mouth moves against yours, your body melts deeper into him automatically.

It feels dangerous how naturally the chemistry comes between you. Because yes, maybe you planned on taking things slow. Maybe you told yourself emotional intimacy mattered more. But right now, with Felix’s hand cupping your breast in the warm water while his mouth keeps finding yours over and over again—

You realize the physical attraction might actually be just as intense. If not worse. And from the way he touches you, kisses you, breathes against your mouth like he’s trying not to lose control entirely—

You know he feels it too.

Your lips part from his eventually, both of you breathing slightly heavier now. But the second you pull away, Felix immediately chases after another kiss. You laugh softly against his mouth at the eagerness. Still, you let him steal one more kiss before gently pulling away again just enough to murmur teasingly against his lips, “You said you’d follow my pace.”

Felix’s eyes darken immediately. A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “That’s right. Yeah,” he says, almost breathlessly.

You hold his gaze the entire time as your fingers slide down to take his free hand gently into yours. Then slowly, you guide it to where you want him the most, placing it on the heat between your legs.

The second you let go, Felix understands immediately. Your want, your need and he’s more than happy to comply. The sharp inhale he takes against your lips sends satisfaction curling warmly through your stomach.

Because now it’s your turn to watch him struggle as your own hand drifts lower next, finding his length easily under the water. Warm and hard already at your touch.

Felix exhales sharply the second your fingers wrap gently around him.

You smirk softly at the reaction before leaning close enough to murmur near his mouth, “Try to match my pace then.”

And with that, your hand starts moving and Felix’s head drops slightly against yours as a quiet groan escapes him immediately, restraint visibly cracking apart with every slow stroke of your hand on his cock.

-

YOU: I was just testing him [innocently smiles] To make sure he could follow my pace. [shamelessly smiles] And I must say… [bites lips] he was doing pretty well.

-

By the time the two of you finally leave the bathroom, steam still clings faintly to Felix’s skin while both of you remain wrapped in hotel bathrobes, damp hair messy from the shower and from each other’s hands.

You barely make it two steps into the bedroom before Felix grabs you again and immediately, instinctively, you cling to him. Your arms wrap around his shoulders while your legs hook around his waist without hesitation, laughter bursting out of you as he lifts you effortlessly into his arms. Warmth blooming inside his chest at how naturally you fit against him already.

He carries you toward the bed while your face presses briefly into his neck, both of you grinning helplessly like idiots in love. Then he drops you gently onto the mattress.

The second your body bounces against the soft bed, an excited shriek escapes you.

Felix bursts into laughter, completely smitten. “You’re too cute,” he says through his grin.

Then he climbs over you and another thrilled sound leaves you the second his body settles above yours.

Your legs immediately wrap around his waist again, pulling him down closer until there’s barely any space left between your bodies. Then your hands cup his face and tug him into another kiss.

And god, Felix could stay here forever. Just kissing you slowly while your bodies press together through thin layers of fabric, your fingers slipping into his damp hair while his hands settle against your waist possessively.

The chemistry between you feels almost overwhelming now that nothing is separating you anymore. Every kiss grows deeper. Every touch lingers longer. Every breath feels shared. And eventually, impatience wins.

Felix breaks the kiss only long enough to tug roughly at the belt of your robe. You laugh breathlessly against his mouth as the fabric loosens beneath his hands and the robe parts open completely beneath him.

Only then he pulls away. He takes a moment to properly admire you and your breathtaking body against the white bedsheets while warm bedside light traces every curve of exposed skin beneath him.

For a suspended second, Felix simply stares. His chest aches strangely with it. Not only in lust. There’s something else too. Something almost disbelieving.

Your eyes eventually meet his and beneath the want, the desire, Felix catches something else flickering briefly underneath it. Insecurity.

One of his hands rises gently to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes softly against your cheek while he looks directly into your eyes. And with complete sincerity and admiration laced every word, he murmurs softly, “How did I get so lucky?”

Your entire expression softens. Your lips curve into something small and soft. Almost shy.

And quietly, like you still can’t quite believe it yourself, you whisper back, “How did I get so lucky?”

Felix smiles at that. Because nothing feels better than hearing his feelings echo back to him. The certainty. The affection. The way you look at him like he’s something precious too. It makes his chest feel unbearably full.

So Felix leans down and kisses you again, slower. Like he’s trying to pour every overwhelming emotion he has for you into the kiss itself. And beneath him, you kiss him back exactly the same way.

-

FELIX: It honestly feels really nice finding someone who’s so compatible with me. Not just emotionally. [shyly smiles] But physically too. With her, everything just feels… right and easy. [smiles] I’m genuinely obsessed with her already.

-

You’re getting impatient again. Which honestly shouldn’t surprise you anymore. Because Felix keeps kissing you like he’s trying to ruin your ability to think properly, and every second spent with fabric between your bodies suddenly feels unbearable.

Your fingers quickly find the tie of his bathrobe, tugging at it with barely concealed urgency while he kisses you breathlessly above the white hotel sheets.

Felix laughs softly against your lips at your impatience. “Baby—”

“Need this off,” you mumble immediately, hands still working at the robe.

He warmly laughs at that and eventually, taking pity on you, he pulls back just enough to shrug the robe off completely himself. The sight of him bare beneath the soft golden bedroom light makes heat curl low in your stomach all over again.

God. He’s beautiful.

You instinctively part your legs wider for him as he settles himself between them again, still standing at the edge of the bed while leaning over you. His hands brace beside your head before his mouth finds yours again immediately.

You kiss him back just as eagerly while one of his hands slips lower between your thighs again, thumb circling softly on your clit that make your breathing uneven almost instantly. At the same time, your own hand wraps around him again, stroking him slowly while he softly groans into your mouth at the contact.

The tension between both of you climbs higher and higher with every kiss. Every tease of his fingers on your clit. Every pump of your hand on his cock. Every quiet sound swallowed between your mouths. Until eventually it feels impossible to deny what’s happening anymore.

Reluctantly, Felix finally pulls away from the kiss, forehead resting briefly against yours while both of you breathe unevenly. “Give me one second,” he murmurs softly against your lips.

You nod immediately despite the disappointed little sound threatening to leave you.

Felix softly laughs at your expression before pressing one quick kiss to your mouth and disappearing toward the bathroom.

The second he’s gone, you slowly sit up in bed. The bathrobe still hangs messily around your shoulders, barely clinging there anymore so you shrug it off completely and let it fall carelessly onto the mattress behind you.

You look up just as Felix returns holding a condom loosely in one hand while looking at you with an expression so soft it almost catches you off guard. Like he still can’t believe you’re real.

You smile slowly up at him before teasingly say, “I thought we were on a plan for baby number one out of seven.”

He breaks into laughter. “Already trying to trap me?”

“You proposed first,” you point out innocently.

Still smiling, Felix steps closer before gently catching your chin between his fingers. He leans down and kisses you softly. Then against your lips, he murmurs, “We’ve still got lots of time to plan all that.”

And somehow, hearing him talk about a future with you still makes your chest ache every single time.

“And for now, I want you just for me,” he murmurs, softly yet seductively.

Felix kisses you again afterward, slower this time, like he’s savoring the moment instead of rushing through it and you kiss him back just as softly. Because suddenly this feels intimate in a way that scares you a little. In the best possible way.

-

YOU: I absolutely understand the vision now [nods] [grins] I’m just saying [shrugs] I suddenly can’t wait to have all of his seven babies. [laughs]

-

Felix lets the kiss linger for another second before finally pulling back just enough to lift the condom between two fingers. But before he can finish, your hand gently wraps around his wrist as you take the foil packet from him with a soft smile.

“I’ll do it for you,” you murmur sweetly.

Felix immediately melts a little at that. Honestly, he would probably let you get away with almost anything when you use that tone on him. So without question, he hands it over.

But instead of opening it right away, you rise to sit on the edge of the bed and set it aside onto the mattress beside you. Then your hand wraps around his cock again.

His head immediately tips back slightly at the feeling of your soft, lithe fingers wrapped around his sensitive length.

You only smile in response before leaning forward, soft lips press little kisses against his stomach first. Then his left rib. Then his navel. Then lower. And lower. Every kiss feels teasingly unhurried, like you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

Felix forgets how to think altogether as he watches you with parted lips and increasingly uneven breathing while your mouth continues its trail of kisses down the length of his cock. The slow stroke you give him afterward nearly makes his knees buckle.

You smile before pressing another soft kiss on the tip and decide to tease him by landing a kitten lick just before you pull away completely.

“Are you trying to make me lose my mind?” Felix breathes out helplessly.

Instead of answering, you take him into your mouth. Just an inch but it’s enough to let him feel the soft, warm feeling of your mouth around him.

“Baby…” he hisses, eyes locked on the way your lips wrapped around him.

You giggle softly against him in response, and the vibration alone nearly destroys him. But then you begin to suck him and whatever thought he had immediately dissolves.

Felix’s hand instinctively finds your hair the second you guide it there yourself, fingers tangling into soft strands while you take more of him into your mouth and suck gently.

A sharp breath tears from his chest. “Oh fuck…”

The feeling of your mouth around him makes his head spin almost instantly. His fingers tighten in your hair a little too hard before he catches himself, breathlessly muttering apologies while you continue looking up at him through your lashes with entirely too much satisfaction glowing in your eyes.

“I’m actually going insane,” he says repeatedly under his breath, almost laughing from disbelief between breaths.

The smug little smile you give him around him only makes things worse. Eventually you pull away slowly, and Felix genuinely thinks he sees stars for a second.

Only then do you finally rip open the foil packet and this time, you carefully roll the condom onto him while he watches you with a softness that almost surprises himself. Because somehow even this feels intimate with you.

When you finish, you glance up proudly. “All done.”

Felix smiles helplessly before leaning down to kiss you immediately. “You did such a good job,” he murmurs warmly against your mouth.

Your smile against his lips nearly ruins him all over again and as the kiss deepens, he slowly lowers himself with you until both of you collapse gently back against the mattress together. His body presses fully against yours now, skin against skin. The weight of him makes you wrap your arms around him tighter instantly, fingers digging softly into the muscles of his back as if trying to pull him impossibly closer.

Felix kisses you slowly through every breath, every little sound, every shift of your body beneath him. And when he finally guides himself between your legs, he still takes his time. He rubs his cock between your folds in slow, teasing motions.

The feeling makes you whine softly into his mouth, your fingers tightening against his shoulders immediately.

When he glances down, his length is already coated in your essence so he pushes into you slowly. Just enough to make you sharply gasp against his lips. But instead of pulling away, your legs open wider for him instantly, silently encouraging him closer, deeper into you.

Felix groans softly at the feeling while carefully easing himself fully into you inch by inch until there’s no space left between your bodies at all.

The sensation nearly overwhelms him. The warmth. The tightness. The way your body welcomes him so perfectly it almost feels unreal. Then your legs wrap around his waist and the movement pushes him deeper still.

“Fuck,” Felix shakily breathes out against your cheek.

For a moment neither of you moves. You just stay there together breathing each other in while your bodies slowly adjust. Then your fingers brush gently through his damp hair, pushing strands away from his forehead while you look up at him softly.

“How do I feel?” you whisper.

Felix’s eyes close briefly. A helpless smile pulls across his face before he looks back at you again. “Exactly how I thought you would.”

You tilt your head curiously. “Meaning?”

Felix’s thumb strokes softly against your cheek. “Right,” he softly murmurs. “You feel… right.”

Your entire expression softens at that and then a playful little spark returns to your eyes almost immediately afterward. “And now,” you murmur sweetly, “let’s see if you can fuck me right.”

He laughs breathlessly against your mouth before confidently says, “Oh, I definitely can.”

And with that, Felix begins moving, slowly and steadily. Every thrust deep enough to make both of you feel each other intensely, completely.

Your fingers clutch tighter and tighter at him the longer it continues. One hand grasping desperately at the bedsheets while the other digs crescent-shaped marks into his shoulder. And oh, every little sound you make pushes him closer to losing himself completely.

The tension builds quickly between both of you after that. Too much sensation. Too much emotion tangled into every kiss and touch and in the way your bodies rubbing against each other. Until finally your whole body tightens beneath him all at once.

Felix feels the exact second pleasure crashes through you. You gasp sharply against his mouth while your body trembles around him, completely unraveling beneath the overwhelming intensity of it.

Felix holds you through it, kissing you tenderly, whispering little praises against your lips while you slowly come back down from your high.

“So good for me… so beautiful… coming for me like that…” he murmurs in between little kisses he places on the side of your face.

When your eyes finally open properly again, you look up at him with dazed eyes and completely wrecked affection. You grin as you playfully murmur, “The hell with it. Let’s have seven kids.”

-

FELIX: There’s absolutely no doubt the physical connection is just as strong as the emotional one. Maybe stronger [shyly smiles] And yeah… I’d say I was very right about my choice.

-

Morning arrives in warm sunlight and the distant sound of waves drifts faintly from outside the balcony doors.

For a moment, you don’t even remember where you are. Then you open your eyes fully and find Felix already looking at you. And instantly, warmth spreads through your chest.

He’s lying on his side beside you, hair messy from sleep, one arm tucked beneath the pillow while the other rests lazily around your waist. His expression softens immediately when he notices your eyes fluttering open.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispers quietly, voice impossibly deeper in the morning.

You shyly smile before snuggling closer to him instead of answering right away.

Felix immediately makes a soft sound of approval and opens his arms wider for you without hesitation. Like this is already routine for him.

Your cheek presses against his bare chest while sleep still lingers heavily behind your eyes.

The room is warm. Felix is warm. Everything feels safe in a way you’re still getting used to. And honestly, you could stay here forever.

As you close your eyes again to steal another few seconds of sleep, you feel Felix’s lips brush softly against your bare shoulder. Then another kiss trails lower along your arm. And another.

His arms tighten around you afterward, pulling you impossibly closer while he lets you drift there comfortably against him for another moment.

Eventually you finally lift your head slightly, peeking up at him through sleepy eyes. “Good morning,” you murmur softly this time.

Felix looks at you like your existence alone already made his entire day. “Good morning, baby.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your chest ache a little and then somehow both of you lean in at the exact same time. Your lips meet halfway naturally in a slow, almost lazy kiss. When he pulls away, it’s only to tilt his head before kissing you again and again. And again. Tiny affectionate kisses that make you softly giggle against his mouth.

“I could get used to this,” he mutters softly between kisses.

You smile at that and Felix kisses your smile too.

For a little while, neither of you says anything afterward. You just stay tangled together on the bed, staring at each other with soft sleepy affection that feels almost dizzying. Your fingers drift gently through his blond hair while his hand absentmindedly trails down your spine.

Neither of you can stop smiling and every time your eyes meet, another helpless grin appears like both of you are still stuck in a dream state. Then, as if he physically can’t help himself, Felix leans in again and gives you another long lingering kiss. One that leaves warmth buzzing softly through your entire body afterward.

When he finally pulls back this time, he brushes his nose gently against yours. “So, what do you want to do today?” he asks softly.

You hum thoughtfully for approximately one second before answering, “Stay here and lock you in this room with me.”

Felix bursts into deep, sleepy laughter. He’s pulling you even closer as he simply answers, “I’m down for that.”

You laugh too before wrapping an arm around his waist more tightly. “But we should probably go outside eventually.”

“Mmm,” he hums, too comfortable to even talk.

You trace lazy circles against his chest while thinking. “We could do a boat ride and maybe go swimming?” you suggest.

Felix presses a sweet kiss on your temple. “That sounds nice.”

But despite saying that, neither of you actually moves. Instead, you snuggle closer into him and he tightens his hold around you like he has no intention of letting go anytime soon either.

The two of you remain tangled together in bed while sunlight slowly fills the room brighter and brighter around you. Neither one of you ready to break the softness of the moment just yet.

-

YOU: Last night was… fun. [smiles] We definitely did some very deep [snorts] exploring of each other. Waking up next to him this morning felt really nice too. But yeah. The exploring part was also very nice. [giggles]

-

The boat cuts smoothly through the ocean while sunlight dances across the water in endless glittering waves.

Felix sits beside you near the back of the boat, one arm stretched comfortably along the seat behind you while the wind tousles both your hair every few seconds.

The farther the boat takes you from shore, the prettier everything becomes. Open sea. Endless blue sky. Warm sunlight spilling across your skin. And despite the breathtaking view around him, Felix keeps finding himself looking at you instead.

You’re currently rambling about how unreal the water color looks while squinting toward the horizon, your sunglasses perched slightly crooked on your nose from the wind.

Felix smiles helplessly to himself.

“What?” you ask immediately after catching him staring again.

“You’re just too cute.”

You snort at that. “I’m literally talking about water.”

“Exactly.”

Felix leans over immediately to steal a quick kiss while you’re distracted laughing.

You squeal softly into it, hand pushing weakly against his chest while he grins against your lips.

“Ugh, you’re so obsessed with me,” you say with feigned annoyance.

“I am,” he simply retorts.

The rest of the ride passes easily after that. Your hand resting absentmindedly over his thigh while Felix occasionally presses lazy kisses against your shoulder or cheek whenever the mood strikes him. He could get addicted to this frighteningly fast.

Eventually the boat slows near a beautiful open stretch of water far from the shore. The sea here looks impossibly clear beneath the sunlight. Once the captain announces it’s safe to swim, Felix immediately stands and starts peeling off layers of clothing. His t-shirt is the first to go and his shorts next, leaving only his black swim trunks behind.

You’re currently struggling beside him trying to pull your denim shorts off carefully without accidentally dragging your bikini bottoms down too.

“Need help?” he asks, already smiling.

Without waiting for your response, Felix gets behind you, hands at the ready one each side of you.

You softly chuckle at his eagerness in helping you. “Yes. Why not?”

Felix steps forward, closing the last few inches of gap between his chest and your back. His hands tugging at the waistband of your denim shorts while you hold the straps of your bikini bottom. His hands move carefully and affectionately, making sure not to accidentally tug the wrong thing down.

He crouches to help you get rid of the shorts completely. “There.”

You finally straighten afterward with triumph and turn toward him fully. “Thank you,” you sweetly mutter.

Felix genuinely forgets how to breathe for a second. Because seeing you in that pink bikini affects him even more than seeing you naked earlier. Maybe it’s the sunlight against your skin. Or the tiny smug smile on your face after successfully winning the battle against your shorts. Or maybe it’s simply you and this impossible attraction between you that only seems to grow stronger every hour he spends around you.

Whatever it is, Felix suddenly feels dangerously distracted again.

You catch the look on his face immediately too. “What?” you ask suspiciously.

Felix shakes his head once like he’s clearing it. “Just trying very hard to behave myself.”

You gently catch his chin in your hand and turn his face to the side, but somehow, his face turned back toward you again. And you laugh at that.

Felix reaches for your hand before leading you toward the edge of the boat together and the ocean stretches endlessly around both of you now. He glances toward you one last time. “Ready?”

You nod instantly.

And together, hand in hand, the two of you jump. Cold water crashes around Felix the second you hit the sea, laughter immediately bubbling out of both of you beneath the surface.

When he resurfaces, you’re already pushing wet hair away from your face while laughing breathlessly nearby. And god, he’s gone for you. Completely.

The next hour passes in easy happiness after that. Swimming beside each other. Splashing each other. You cling onto his shoulders at one point while Felix effortlessly keeps both of you afloat, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist while you laugh about absolutely nothing important.

Everything feels easy and natural. And Felix realizes somewhere in the middle of it that spending time with you like this might honestly be his favorite thing in the world already.

-

FELIX: I’ve only physically been with her for, like… three days. But it genuinely feels longer than that. We’re just really attuned to each other. [grins] And I know it sounds insane because this whole experiment moves so fast… [softly smiles] But I really do feel like I met the right person.

-

The sea breeze feels cooler now after swimming for so long under the sun.

You sit beside Felix at the back of the boat with a towel draped around your shoulders and another one spread beneath both of you over the seat. Your legs are tangled together lazily while the boat gently rocks against the water. A half-finished plate of fruit sits between you along with two cold drinks sweating under the afternoon heat.

Felix is currently talking about something the captain mentioned earlier, sunglasses pushed up into his damp blond hair while sunlight catches against the freckles scattered across his skin.

You can’t stop staring at him and eventually he catches you doing it too.

“What?” he asks with a grin.

You smile a little sheepishly. “You’re such a good swimmer.”

Felix brightens at the compliment. “Yeah?”

You nod. “You looked way too comfortable out there.”

He laughs softly before leaning back against the seat. “I used to swim a lot growing up in Australia.”

Your attention sharpens into curiosity. “With your family?”

Felix nods. “Yeah. We’d go to the beach all the time.”

The second he starts talking about them, you hear immediately hear the warmth in his voice. The affection. The ease. He talks about family memories so fondly, like love was always something freely given in his life.

Hearing it feels strangely foreign to you. Beautiful. But foreign. You quietly pick at a strawberry for a second before blurting out the thought that’s been lingering in your head since yesterday.

“You think I’ll fit in?”

Felix freezes, head tilted to the side. “Huh?”

“Your family,” you mumble sheepishly. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

His brows pull together in confusion.

You shrug lightly, trying to sound casual even though your stomach suddenly twists with nerves. “Because you know, I’m meeting them soon.”

Felix still looks genuinely confused. Almost offended on your behalf somehow. “Baby,” he says carefully, reaching for your hand immediately. “Why wouldn’t they like you?”

You avoid his eyes briefly. “I don’t know.”

The truth is, you do know. Because deep down, some part of you still expects rejection before acceptance. Still waits for the moment people decide you’re too much or not enough all at once.

His hand tightens gently around yours before he lifts it toward him. “I like you. A lot,” he pauses to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “And if I like you, I know my family will too.”

Before you can answer, he presses a soft kiss against your knuckles.

The gesture makes something warm ache inside your chest immediately. And even though the reassurance settles some of your nerves, it doesn’t erase them completely. Still, it helps.

Felix tilts his head slightly and then carefully, he asks, “What about your mom? Will she like me?”

You immediately let out a nervous laugh. “That’s actually terrifying to think about.”

Felix laughs too at first until he realizes that you’re not joking.

“I’ve never brought anyone to meet her before,” you admit and saying it aloud suddenly makes the reality of all this hit harder. The wedding. The families. The outside world waiting for both of you after this vacation ends. “I honestly don’t know how she’ll react.”

You glance toward Felix again and immediately notice the concern appearing across his face now too. Which naturally makes you want to tease him a little.

“My mom is very hard to impress, by the way.”

Felix looks at you for a second. Then without hesitation, he calmly says, “I’ll try my best to earn you.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you completely off guard. Not win her over. Not impress her. Earn you. Like loving you properly matters more than anything else.

Your chest aches so suddenly and intensely that you don’t even think before leaning in and kissing him.

Felix immediately kisses you back, one hand sliding gently against your jaw while the boat rocks quietly beneath both of you.

When you pull away, your forehead lingers against his. “You shouldn’t worry,” you murmur. “What’s not to like about you?”

Felix smiles at that. A small warm smile that makes him look almost shy despite everything. Then he leans in again and gives you another long lingering kiss while sunlight dances endlessly across the water around the two of you.

-

YOU: There’s still a lot to think about. A lot waiting for us after this. And honestly, it’s scary if I think too hard about it. [softly sighs] But for now… I just want to focus on him. On us. I kind of just want to enjoy this vacation with Felix while I still can. [smiles]

-

Felix is halfway through buttoning the cuffs of his shirt when production knocks on the hotel suite door.

A staff member pokes their head in with a bright smile. “Get dressed and head down to the beach in thirty minutes, please.”

And just like that they leave without further explanation or details. Which honestly unsettles Felix a little more than he wants to admit. Because usually, no information means surprise and surprise on reality television rarely means peace and relaxation. Still, as long as it has nothing to do with losing you somehow, he figures he can survive it.

Especially when he turns around and sees you stepping out of the bathroom.

“Wow.” It slips out before he can stop himself.

You laugh softly while smoothing your hands down the sides of your black dress. “Do I look… okay?” you nervously ask.

Felix just stares at you helplessly for another second. The dress hugs you perfectly, elegant and simple while your hair falls softly over your shoulders. And somehow you still look at him like he’s the pretty one in the relationship.

“Okay?” he asks in utter disbelief. “Baby, you look incredible.”

Your smile turns shy around the edges. “Thank you.”

Felix walks over, hands automatically finding your waist. Then he leans down and presses a careful kiss against your cheek as to not to ruin your makeup.

You smile warmly at the gesture before slipping your fingers through his hand and just like that, the nervousness settles a little because you’re here.

The two of you walk down the softly lit pathway together afterward, palm trees swaying gently in the evening breeze while distant music grows louder the closer you get to the beach. Eventually the path opens into a beautiful patio area set up near the sand and when he thinks you two are the first to get there, Felix notices a couple sitting together on one of the outdoor sofas.

Recognition hits almost immediately. “Shane?” Felix blurts out.

The man instantly breaks into a grin and stands up. “Felix!”

At the exact same time beside him, you let out a low surprised shriek after recognizing the woman sitting next to Shane too. “Oh my god.”

Everything suddenly clicks into place. Felix laughs warmly while pulling Shane into a quick friendly hug. Introductions happen immediately after that. You excitedly greet Shane’s fiancée, Laura, while everyone talks over each other at once, still processing the fact that these are actual faces attached to voices from the pods.

Soon, more couples begin arriving. More familiar voices. More shocked reactions. More introductions. And slowly it dawns on Felix exactly what this is. These are all the couples who made it out. Everyone who got engaged. Everyone currently vacationing in the same hotel just like you and him.

The realization feels surreal because just a week ago all of you were dating blindly through glowing walls and now everyone’s here holding hands with their future spouses in real life.

Eventually the chatter quiets when the female host finally enters the patio.

“Welcome to your vacation!” she begins with a bright, teeth-baring smile.

Everyone cheers and smiles and applauds and the host lets it settle before continue talking. “How’s your romantic getaway so far?”

There’s laughter immediately. A few teasing comments. Some very guilty-looking faces around the group. Felix and you look at each other at the same time and immediately burst into laughter.

“I'm sure you have recognized everyone in here,” the host continues, briefly looking at everyone before staring back at the camera. “But gentlemen, we want you to meet the ladies. And ladies, we want you to meet the gentlemen that you did not propose to.”

The host goes on, introducing each couple properly one by one, including you and Felix. She takes another moment of break before speaking again. “Congratulations to all of you on your engagements.”

The cheers erupt again and Felix tightens his hold on your hand as he looks at you. And it feels like a pinch-me moment still. You and him, engaged.

“You guys fell in love and chose somebody to marry you without ever seeing them. You've had no distractions, nothing to get in the way. Here you have the chance to develop your emotional connection into a physical one,” the host says with a soft smile lingering on her face.

But the smile dims a little and her tone turns serious when she talks again. “When you go back home, will the realities of the material world, your looks, your age, your background, affect the way you feel about each other? How are you guys going to integrate your lives? How is all of that going to come together with your fiancé?”

Felix feels your eyes on him even before he looks at you. He understands the wavering gaze, the way you tightly hold his hand on your lap, the fear that everything might change the moment you both step out of this bubble.  

“Your wedding are just four weeks away,” the host reminds with a steady yet firm tone. “Will you say 'I do' to the person you chose to marry or will you walk away from them forever?”

She looks at the camera as she asks the one question that sums this whole experiment, “Is love truly blind?”

While Felix keeps nodding along politely and soothingly rubbing the back of your hand, internally he’s having a tiny crisis. Because suddenly this feels very real again. He’s going to marry you soon.

Still, the host eventually lifts her glass with a smile and offers a toast. “To love and happiness and to all of you enjoy this moment!”

Everyone lifts their glasses as well before finally taking a sip and the host tells everyone to enjoy the rest of their vacation before leaving the patio.

For a few seconds afterward, everyone just kind of sits there processing. Until suddenly Jim stands up dramatically, grabs a bottle of liquor from the table, and announces, “Alright, everyone. Let’s get this party started.”

Instantly everyone bursts into cheers and laughter. And just like that, the party started.

-

FELIX: It was honestly really nice finally seeing everybody outside the pods. And everyone here is very attractive [chuckles] But it is weird now realizing we’re all technically getting married… after dating each other first. [laughs] Reality TV is insane.

-

The patio grows louder as the night gets late. Music drifts through the beachside space while drinks keep appearing in people’s hands and conversations overlap from every corner of the party.

The second you spot Morgan across the patio, you nearly spill your drink trying to get to her. “Morgan!”

She turns around instantly and lets out a scream just as dramatic as yours before practically launching herself at you.

The two of you immediately crash into a hug. Then another one. And somehow another after that too.

“Oh my god, I missed you,” Morgan groans dramatically into your shoulder.

“I missed you too!” You pull away only slightly before grabbing her hands again like you need to confirm she’s real. It feels oddly emotional seeing everyone again outside the pods. Especially the girls you spent every single day with.

Morgan squeezes your hands warmly. “It feels weird without Daria though,” she says softly.

“I know,” you sadly mutter, a little ache settles in your chest at the thought of it. “She’s literally the sweetest person ever.”

Morgan nods immediately. “Seriously. I can’t believe she didn’t end up with anyone.”

You sigh softly before taking another sip of your drink.

Then suddenly Morgan’s entire expression brightens mischievously. “But can we talk about your man?”

You immediately laugh. “What about Felix?”

Morgan leans closer dramatically. “He is not what I expected him to look like.”

That makes you laugh even harder. “What were you expecting exactly?”

“I don’t know!” Morgan bursts out laughing too. “Like… some huge muscular guy with a thick beard.”

You nearly choke on your drink laughing. “A thick beard?”

“Yes!”

“Oh my god.”

The two of you dissolve into louder laughter together while nearby people glance over curiously. “I thought the same thing at first,” you admit eventually while wiping tears from your eyes.

“Right?!” Morgan says triumphantly.

“But he’s actually a very gentle person,” you continue softer now, unable to stop smiling when you talk about him.

Morgan immediately melts. “Awww.”

“And we’ve been getting to know each other better and…” You shrug shyly. “So far he’s very much my dream man.”

Morgan immediately narrows her eyes teasingly. “So far?”

You burst into laughter again.

“No no no,” she says dramatically. “What do you mean so far?”

You shake your head while laughing. “I don’t know. He’s just… He’s too good to be true.”

Morgan’s expression softens immediately afterward. She reaches over and squeezes your arm gently. “I think you guys deserve each other. And I’m really happy for you,” she sweetly says.

Your chest warms instantly at the sincerity in her voice. Before you can answer, Morgan pulls you into another hug anyway and you happily let her.

When you finally pull apart again, you lift your drink toward her. “To finally winning the battle over Jim?” you tease.

Morgan snorts into her drink before clinking her glass against yours. “To hot fiancés.”

You snort loudly. “Yes. That too.”

The party continues afterward, everyone slowly mixing together more comfortably now that the initial shock has worn off.

At one point you end up chatting with Jim near the table full of snacks. He looks exactly how you imagined he would. Messy hair. Tattoos. That careless confidence dripping from him naturally. Though admittedly… He’s smaller and shorter than you expected. Which immediately becomes too funny not to mention.

“You know,” you say casually while sipping your drink, “the women’s lounge literally ran out of wine because of you.”

Jim bursts into loud laughter immediately. “I’m not sorry,” he jokingly says.

You laugh before lightly nudging his shoulder. “Well. Thank you for choosing my best girl.”

Jim immediately grins. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”

You clink your glass with him and take a small sip.

Once Jim swallowed his drink, he looks at you and casually asks, “How’re things with Felix?”

Your smile appears automatically. “We’ve been really good.”

And just hearing yourself say it out loud makes warmth spread through you again.

Jim nods knowingly and laughs to himself before speaking. “You know, when Felix talked about you back in the men’s lounge, that man did not hesitate about you for even a second.”

Your chest tightens, a soft smile pulls at your lips at that.

Jim takes another sip of his drink before continuing. “Honestly, I kind of figured he’d be the first one engaged.”

That makes you laugh. “Really?”

“Oh yeah.” Jim points toward Felix across the patio where he’s currently laughing with Shane. “One pod date and that guy was gone for you.”

The affection in Jim’s tone catches you off guard a little. “And I’m genuinely happy it’s you he ended up with,” he adds sincerely.

You smile softly at that and then immediately ruin the emotional moment on purpose. “I’m just relieved I didn’t have to deal with your drama in the women’s lounge for longer.”

Jim immediately doubles over laughing. “Okay, fair enough.”

“You had those girls fighting for their lives.”

“I’m charming. What can I say?”

“Menace.”

Jim cracks up again while you laugh along with him and somewhere across the patio, Felix catches your eye. The second he sees you smiling, his own expression softens too. Like he’s automatically drawn toward you even from across the room.

And your stomach still flips a little every single time.

-

YOU: It was honestly really nice seeing the girls again and finally putting faces to the voices from the pods. I must admit that some of them are pretty hot [giggles] but like… whatever [dramatically rolls eyes] [laughs] I already got the best one anyway.

-

Felix ends up gathered near the bar with most of the guys while everyone slowly settles into easy conversation now that the initial awkwardness has disappeared.

Rob is currently leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, looking way too entertained already. “So,” he says, eyes narrowing mischievously at everyone. “How’s everybody been behaving?”

Immediately the group erupts into laughter because absolutely nobody believes anyone here has been behaving.

Jim lifts his glass casually. “I stayed up until four last night.”

The boys immediately explode.

“No way.”

“Brother.”

“Four in the morning?!”

Jim only shrugs innocently while trying and failing not to laugh at everyone’s reactions.

Felix is already grinning into his drink when Stefan suddenly groans dramatically beside them.

“I accidentally pulled my back yesterday.”

The entire group immediately starts yelling over each other.

“Nooooo.”

“Stefan!”

“Already?!”

Stefan points defensively at everyone while laughing. “It was from the luggage!”

Nobody believes him for even half a second. The guys howl even louder afterward while Stefan collapses into embarrassed laughter himself.

Felix wisely decides to stay quiet during all this. Because if he keeps his head down long enough maybe nobody will ask him anything. Unfortunately, that strategy lasts approximately ten seconds. Then suddenly everyone turns toward him together.

“What about you, Felix?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You’ve been suspiciously quiet.”

Felix exhales through his nose while trying not to smile too hard already. “I mean… we agreed not to rush things just because we’re engaged.”

A few of the boys nod approvingly.

Felix continues smoothly, pretending he doesn’t notice everyone leaning in now. “And I told her I’d move at her pace.”

Rob immediately elbows Felix hard in the side. “Just tell us already, man.”

The entire group bursts out laughing instantly.

Felix finally cracks too, dropping his head while grinning helplessly. “Okay, listen,” he says through laughter. “I just didn’t know she was apparently an F1 racer.”

The boys immediately lose their minds again.

“And now?” Jim asks dramatically.

Felix shakes his head with mock exhaustion. “Now I’m struggling to keep up with the pace she set.”

The reaction afterward is a genuine delight. Half the guys double over laughing while Jim nearly spills his drink all over himself.

“THAT’S MY BOY!” Jim yells dramatically before throwing an arm around Felix’s shoulders.

“You look very happy for someone suffering,” Shane points out.

“That’s because he likes it,” Rob immediately says.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Felix admits shamelessly.

The group howls again. Then Jim lifts his glass high into the center of the circle. “To Felix surviving his fiancée.”

Everyone cheers loudly before bringing their drinks together for one giant toast beneath the beach lights.

And despite all the teasing, Felix can’t stop smiling afterward.

-

FELIX: I think what we have is more than just sex. She’s genuinely become my best friend really fast. We talk about everything. We laugh all the time. Being around her just feels easy. But also, there’s a difference between sex being good… [slyly grins] and sex being so fucking fantastic.

-

By the time you and Felix stumble back into the hotel suite, both of you are warm from alcohol and laughter and hours spent socializing.

The second the door shuts behind you, Felix lets out a dramatic groan. “Oh my god.”

You barely manage to hold in your laughter before he drops backward onto the bed face-first, arms spread out dramatically across the mattress. “I shouldn’t have drank that much,” he mutters into the sheets before rolling over to lay on his back.

You shake your head fondly before climbing onto the mattress beside him. Well, not exactly beside him. On top of him.

You straddle his waist easily while Felix immediately makes a soft sound beneath you, his hands instinctively finding your hips. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the alcohol, blond hair messy from the humid beach air and too many hands running through it tonight. And when he looks up at you with those slightly dazed eyes, your stomach flips embarrassingly fast.

God. You really like this man. Your hands settle against his chest while absentmindedly playing with the buttons of his shirt.

Felix watches you quietly beneath half-lidded eyes, thumbs rubbing lazy circles against your thighs.

“Since you finally saw all the girls tonight…”

“Mhm?”

“Did anyone catch your attention?”

His grin immediately widens. “Why? Are you jealous?”

You genuinely pause to think about it for a second. Then honestly answer, “No. Not really.”

Felix bursts into soft laughter beneath you.

You shrug lightly and confidently say, “I know what I bring to the table.”

“That you do,” he murmurs immediately, expression softens as he looks up at you again.

“If you’re asking whether I want to make seven kids with anybody else though…” He shakes his head once. “No. I only want them with you.”

The way he says it playfully and sincerely at the same time makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Felix slides his hands higher along your waist and gently pulls you down closer to him until your faces are only inches apart. Then he kisses you. Softly yet passionately.

You kiss him back instinctively while his hands settle comfortably against the small of your back. When you finally pull away, you stay hovering close enough that your noses still brush together every few seconds.

One of your hands drifts upward to cup his jaw gently and notice the way his eyes stay fixed on your mouth. “Are you trying to get lucky tonight, mister?” you murmur teasingly.

Felix slyly smiles at you. “I’m already lucky.”

His arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer against him. “I’m engaged to you.”

You scoff immediately even though your heart does another stupid flip again from hearing it. “You’re good,” you mutter.

“Yeah?”

“Mmh. So good.”

Then you crash your lips against his again before he can get smug about it.

-

YOU: I know I said that a few of them are attractive. But I genuinely can’t imagine feeling the same level of physical attraction I have with Felix with anyone else. There’s just… [seductively smiles] A lot of chemistry there. Like. A dangerous amount, actually.

-

The hotel room is dim except for the warm bedside lights casting gold across your naked form, and every bouncing movement of you on top of him pulls another shaky breath from him.

There’s heat in his gaze, unmistakably so, but something softer lives there too. Affection and admiration. The kind that squeezes on your chest whenever he looks at you too long.

His hands roam across your body slowly, reverently, like he’s memorizing every inch of you through touch alone. Up your waist. Along your sides. His palms eventually meet the softness of your breasts. Every touch of his fingers over your hardening nipples draws a reaction from you, another breathless laugh or soft sound that only makes him smile wider beneath you.

“How would I turn away from this, mmh?” he murmurs, voice rough with awe more than anything else. “When you look this good. Fucking me this good, mmh?”

You only grin knowingly at him before continuing to move against him in slow teasing motions that make his head fall back against the pillow briefly.

“Baby,” he groans quietly, laughing under his breath afterward like he’s already losing his mind a little.

Felix keeps his eyes on you. No matter how much watching you rolling your hips back and forth, clenching around him and quivering in places, tirelessly chasing your high — have him tethering on the edge. He holds back as much as he can.

Not long after, he watches the exact moment the pleasure taking over your body. The way your eyes screwed shut, head falls to the back, the way you let out a stifled scream and how he finds it cute and sexy at the same time. Oh, he’s down bad.

The smile is permanently etched on his face at this point as he gently runs his hand between your breasts and rests it there, feeling the way your heart beating fast under the layer of flesh and bones.

“How come you’re so cute coming around me like that?” he teases.

You giggle at that, completely unapologetic and land a gentle slap on his chest. “Shut up!” you say rather affectionately.

He lets you relish the high as he indulges himself in touching you, noticing that you’re much more sensitive now under his touch. He gently pinches on your nipple and you lewdly moan in reaction.

When your eyes are on him again, he can see that the desire burn brighter now as you begin moving again, moving your hips back and forth, ever so slowly that it surprises him once more how tightly you’re wrapped around him.

“We’re going straight to next round, I see,” he teases with his deep, rough voice.

You smirk and nod. “Touch me, baby,” you whine, needily.

Felix is more than happy to comply. He squeezes on the flesh of your waist before gliding them up to your chest, kneading on your breasts. One hand stray upward, meeting your mouth. He swipes his thumb across your lips before jamming it into your mouth and you immediately suck on it.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he absentmindedly mutters, eyes wide and heavy with lust.

You smirk with your lips wrapped around his thumb and keep smirking when he pulls it out. With his thumb now coated with your saliva, he uses it to tease on your erected nipple, rubbing over it in circular motions.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters breathlessly in so much awe. “So fucking hot. So fucking perfect for me.”

He feels you clenching from his words and that’s it, his self-control begins to slip away. He moves his hand to your shoulder and then pulls you down. You immediately melt against him while his arms wrap tightly around your waist, holding you close enough that there’s barely space left between your bodies anymore. Then he kisses you deeply again, warm and lingering, like he’s trying to pour every feeling he has for you into it.

When he breaks the kiss, he looks at you with this dazed little smile. “How am I supposed to behave,” he mutters absentmindedly, “when you look this good?”

You smile at that, hands sliding into his hair while his settle firmly on your hips as he starts bucking from under you, meeting your thrust halfway. And every now and then, he just can’t stop himself from kissing you again in slow and messy kiss. The kind that keep turning into soft laughter halfway through because neither of you can stop smiling.

Eventually the sex turns intensely intimate, like it’s more than just physical fulfilment now. It’s him and you, bonding and connecting in a way that is never done before. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Felix looks at you with sincerity shining through the desire clouded his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers quietly and the words still hit him hard every single time. Because of how real they are. So real that it scares him a little sometimes.

You brush your thumb gently across his cheek before whispering it back without the slightest hesitation this time. “I love you too.”

Felix smiles like hearing those words from you might honestly become his favorite thing in the world. He pulls you closer after that until you’re practically folded into his chest while both of you laugh softly into another kiss while continue moving in sync and not stopping until the two of you are falling apart around each other.

-

FELIX: Told you [mischievously smiles] The sex is fucking fantastic.

-

Waking up tangled together in bed and kiss Felix first thing in the morning is already starting to feel normal in the most dangerous way possible. At the same time, he keeps reaching for your hand absentmindedly, keeps kissing your shoulder while walking past you, keeps looking at you like he still can’t believe you chose him.

The strange thing is it doesn’t feel strange at all. It feels like the two of you have been around each other for years instead of days.

And today, the production team set up a cooking session for the two of you so Felix can showcase his skill and teach you. And in the process, they get the footage the need for the show.

The two of you are standing side-by-side in an open kitchen studio overlooking the ocean which sounds romantic in theory. In practice, however, you’re holding a knife like this is the first time you ever do so.

Felix notices immediately and asks, “You okay there?”

You narrow your eyes at the cutting board dramatically. “I suddenly forgot how cooking works.”

He laughs softly beside you and the sound sends a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You’re doing fine.”

“No, I’m not,” you honestly share. “I’m nervous because this is your area of expertise

Felix shakes his head before stepping closer behind you. “It’s not a competition, baby.”

His arms slide gently around you as he carefully adjusts your grip on the knife. “Okay,” he softly murmurs patiently near your ear. “Curl your fingers in a little more so you don’t cut yourself.”

You obediently follow his instructions while trying very hard not to get distracted by how warm his chest feels against your back.

“There you go,” he praises softly almost immediately.

You glance over your shoulder suspiciously. “You praise me for everything.”

“Because you’re cute.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“It helps me.”

You snort while Felix grins shamelessly behind you. Despite your nerves earlier, the entire cooking session becomes easy after that because Felix never once makes you feel stupid. Never takes over. Never acts like you should already know things. He just patiently guides you through everything, gently correcting you when needed and celebrating every tiny success in gentle affection. He makes you feel safe and comfortable and you actually find yourself enjoying it. A lot.

Felix beams proudly after you successfully dump the ingredients into the pan without spilling anything.

“That’s my girl,” he says proudly.

Eventually the dish is finished, plated nicely enough that you almost feel suspicious about it. You immediately shove the spoon toward Felix first. “I give you the honor to be the first to test it.”

His eyebrows lift. “Why? You don’t trust yourself?”

“I trust myself less than I trust you.”

Felix laughs again before taking the spoon from your hand and tasting the dish thoughtfully.

You stare at him anxiously the entire time.

“Well?”

He keeps chewing slowly on purpose now, clearly enjoying your suffering.

“Felix.”

His lips twitch.

“Now, don’t go Gordon Ramsay on me.”

He bursts into laughter while still trying to finish chewing, shoulders shaking beside you.

“First of all, rude,” he laughs breathlessly.

“So it’s bad?”

“No!” He points at the food dramatically. “It’s actually really good.”

You squint suspiciously at him. “Be honest. Don’t be biased.”

“I am being honest!”

Still unconvinced, you grab another spoon and taste it yourself. And he’s right, it’s actually good.

Felix immediately slides an arm around your waist and pulls you against his side while watching your reaction proudly. “See? I’m being honest,” he says smugly.

You slowly nod while taking another bite. “We did a good job.”

Felix grins brightly. “We did.”

Then he looks down at you with that unbearably warm expression again. “You’re amazing.”

Your chest tightens a little and it’s not because the compliment is huge. But because he says things like that so easily. Like loving you is the simplest thing in the world.

You smile softly up at him and say it back to him, “You’re amazing.”

Without thinking much about it, you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug. Felix melts into it instantly, hugging you back tightly enough that giggles spill out of you.

When you pull away slightly, you look up at him, fingers lightly smoothing the fabric of his white linen shirt. “I really mean it, you know. You’re amazing.”

Felix’s widen as he playfully says, “And I really meant it too.”

“You’re amazing because you never made me feel like loving me is difficult,” you share sincerely, heart tightening as you let your vulnerability shows. “And you never seem scared to show how much you care.”

For a second, he only looks at you and then slowly, a smile blooms on his small face. The kind that feels warm all the way down to your bones.

“Well, it honestly isn’t that hard,” he murmurs softly. “And I really do love you.”

And hearing it still makes your heart stumble every single time.

-

YOU: It’s really nice being with someone who isn’t scared of showing his feelings. [softly smiles] And I know reality’s going to hit us soon. [sighs] We’re going to go back home eventually. Meet families. Merge our lives together. Deal with actual real-world problems. But I just… I hope we stay like this. I hope none of that changes who we are with each other.

-

The hotel bar is booked by the production team for the last group gathering of the vacation.

Felix keeps your hand locked with his the entire walk there like yours is an extra limb of him. The second the two of you step inside, Jim loudly points toward them from across the room.

“There’s the honeymoon couple.”

Felix immediately laughs while you groan beside him. “Oh my god. We’re never escaping this nickname.”

“Nope,” Morgan says brightly while handing you a drink.

Soon enough everyone gathers together near the center of the bar, drinks already in hand while production encourages everyone closer for a group toast. The atmosphere feels completely different now compared to the first night at the beach party. Like everyone finally settled into the reality that they’re all actually engaged now.

Rob raises his glass dramatically first. “To somehow surviving this experiment.”

“And to surviving Jim,” Shane adds immediately.

The entire group erupts into laughter while Jim protests loudly.

Felix grins before lifting his own drink too. “To love being blind.”

Everyone cheers after that, glasses clinking together in a messy chorus before the night properly begins. Afterward people naturally split off into smaller conversations scattered around the bar.

At one point Felix finds himself leaning comfortably against the counter beside Rob and Sonya while you stay tucked warmly against his side, your arm looped through his.

Sonya is in the middle of telling a ridiculous story from the pods while Rob keeps interrupting dramatically every thirty seconds. “You did not say that.”

“I absolutely did.”

You’re laughing so hard beside Felix that you nearly spill your drink, and without even thinking about it he reaches over to steady the glass in your hand before kissing your temple absentmindedly. The motion feels automatic now and apparently everyone else feels the same with their partners because no one even reacts to the affection anymore.

Across the room Jim has Morgan tucked practically into his lap while Shane keeps stealing kisses from Laura in between conversations.

At some point Felix catches himself looking around the room quietly. All these people. All these relationships that somehow came from talking through a wall. It’s kind of amazing and unbelievably, it worked for him too.

“I just can’t seem to fit the face to the voice,” Sonya says, laughing to herself as she looks at Felix in utter confusion.

You gently place your hand on her forearm and say, “I know right?”

“Like… did you expect this,” Sonya says, hands gesturing at Felix as she talks to you. “…When you said yes?”

You snort and briefly glance at Felix, “Honestly, no,” you jokingly say, feigning serious expression. “I felt like I got catfished a little.”

Felix stares at you in disbelief, shaking his head and then holds the side of your face. “No, baby. You expected this,” he says, the tone soft and coaxing. “I’m your prince charming, remember?”

Your expression softens instantly afterward, lips pulling into a wide grin. “Yes, you are.”

Then, because you’re slightly tipsy and affectionate tonight, you lean up and kiss him right there in the middle of your sentence.

Rob immediately groans dramatically beside them. “Yeah, okay, alright.”

“Get a room,” Sonya says while laughing.

Felix only grins against your mouth before kissing you once more anyway just to annoy them further.

-

FELIX: I’m kind of sad to get back to the real world. I want to. I’m excited to introduce her to family and friends. To be a part my life, but… I kind of don’t want to go home either [laughs] I like our bubble. I want to keep her to myself and not share her. [laughs] Yet.

-

You end up on one of the vacant sofas near in one corner of the bar with Laura, both of you finally taking a breather from the noise and energy of the party.

Felix is across the bar now with Jim and Shane, already laughing at something loudly enough that you can hear it over the music.

You smile into your drink at the familiar sound and Laura notices immediately. “Oh, you’re so in love,” she teases.

You snort softly before taking another sip, not having anything to say to either deny or confirm. Your happy face shows everything.

Laura tucks one leg beneath herself on the sofa before asking, “So… how’s it really been with you and Felix?”

You think about it for a second and honestly answer, “It’s been great.”

You glance toward Felix again briefly before continuing. “I think what shocked me the most is how… in sync we are.”

Laura nods slowly while listening. “Like emotionally?”

“Emotionally, physically, personality-wise…” you shrug lightly but a small smile tugging at your lips. “Everything just kinda fits.”

Laura hums thoughtfully before taking another sip of her drink. Then suddenly her expression turns mischievous. “You know everyone’s betting you two are the success story of the season, right?”

Your laughter escapes immediately. “Oh my god.”

“It’s true!”

You shake your head while grinning into your glass. “Well,” you say playfully, “let’s hope so.”

Laura watches you for a second like she’s genuinely happy seeing how relaxed you look talking about either Felix or the relationship. Then casually she asks, “So how’s the physical attraction?”

You nearly choke on your drink because it’s so sudden.

Laura bursts into laughter immediately while you cough dramatically into your hand. “I need details!” she laughs.

You shake your head while recovering but your cheeks heat anyway. “I mean… we agreed to take things slow.”

Laura lifts an eyebrow knowingly. “And?”

“And then things just…” you gesture vaguely. “…heated up eventually.”

Laura laughs into her glass. “That’s really cute.”

You smile before nudging her leg lightly with yours. “What about you and Shane?”

Laura’s expression dims just slightly while she looks down at her drink. “It’s…” she exhales quietly. “I’m still figuring things out.”

You stay quiet, letting her continue if she wants to.

“The Shane I knew in the pods…” she pauses thoughtfully. “And physically being with Shane now— I’m still trying to make those two versions connect in my head.”

You nod slowly. You kind of understand what she actually means. Because from everything you saw in the women’s lounge, Laura had a hard time letting go of Jim after he chose Morgan instead.

So carefully, teasingly enough not to make it heavy, you ask, “What, are you attracted to somebody else?”

A beat later, you playfully add, “Jim, perhaps?”

Laura immediately laughs into her drink. “Oh my god.”

“So that’s a yes.”

She shakes her head but still smiles afterward. Then honestly, she answers, “Yeah. Jim is probably more my type physically.”

You already guessed that and maybe that’s what this whole thing is really testing. Reality versus expectation. Fantasy versus what’s actually in front of you.

So gently, you tell her, “Laura, I’m sure you said yes to Shane for a reason and I think you just got to focus on that, on building your relationship with him.”

Laura nods and then takes a small sip of her drink.

“I think you should go on your own pace. Not to rush things and you know, talk and communicate your feelings. I think that’s very important,” you say with utmost cautiousness, not wanting to sound like you’re preaching.

Laura nods slowly afterward, thoughtful now. “You’re right.”

You’re just about to take another sip of your drink when suddenly a warm hand settles on your shoulder. You already know it’s Felix before you even look up.

“Are you two talking about me?” he asks, one brow raises higher than the other.

You tilt your head innocently. “Why? Is your ear burning?”

Felix immediately laughs while Laura points accusingly at you. “Yes. She’s obsessed with you and can’t stop talking about you.”

“Oh really?” Felix asks smugly while dropping down beside you on the sofa.

You groan while he automatically slides an arm around your waist anyway and without effort, conversation picks right back up again. Like the three of you have known each other for far longer than a couple of weeks.

The party continues around you while Felix absentmindedly rubs slow circles against your waist the entire time he talks.

And god, you kind of wish this night never had to end.

-

YOU: I feel really lucky because the moment Felix and I got together… [softly smiles] Everything just kind of fell into place. I honestly don’t want this vacation to end. Like… at all. [laughs] I think we should all just stay here forever. No responsibilities. No stress. Just the beach and the sun and kissing my fiancée twenty-four seven. [grins]

-

Long after the party ends and the hotel quiets down, Felix finds himself wide awake beside you. Maybe it’s because tomorrow means leaving this strange little paradise behind. Or maybe it’s simply because every time he looks at you, he feels too much all at once to sleep properly.

Whatever it is, he’s not surprised when you suddenly lift your head from his chest and whisper, “Want to try the pool before we leave?”

Felix immediately smiles. “Yeah. Sure.”

Which is exactly how the two of you end up sneaking through the quiet hotel hallway in the middle of the night trying not to laugh too loudly.

The resort is mostly asleep now, the pathways lit only by dim golden lamps and moonlight reflecting off the water nearby that somehow makes everything feel even more intimate. Like the entire place belongs only to the two of you for a little while longer.

By the time you reach the swimming pool, Felix lets out a soft breath of relief seeing it completely empty.

The pool glows blue beneath the night sky, water shimmering softly under the lights beneath it. Without much thought, Felix pulls his shirt over his head first before tossing it onto one of the loungers nearby. Then he immediately turns toward you, catching you unbuttoning your shirt.

You already know the look on his face “I can take it off myself,” you say with an amused tone.

“I know,” Felix replies easily. “But I want to do it.”

Your expression melts immediately into that smile he’s quickly becoming addicted to. So you let him.

He gets behind you, slipping his arms under yours, hands reaching to the front of your shirt. Slowly, carefully, his fingers working open the buttons one by one before taking it off from your shoulders. Like he enjoys even the smallest acts of taking care of you.

Once he’s done, he quickly folds your shirt before placing it beside his own on the lounger. Then he steps into the pool first, hissing softly at the cold water until it reaches his knees. Afterward he turns and holds a hand out toward you.

Without hesitation, you take it and let him guides you into the water, one hand steady against your waist while you step down into the pool beside him.

“Cold,” you whisper shakily.

Felix warmly laughs at that. “I’ll make you warm,” he teasingly says.

Slowly the two of you drift toward the edge of the pool until your back presses against the cool tiled wall. Felix settles between your legs naturally, chest pressed against yours.

And goodness, you look beautiful like this with your hair slightly damp, eyes soft under the pale moonlight, skin glowing blue from the water around you.

Felix stares a little too long before softly murmurs, “You’re so beautiful.”

A smile blooms on your face and before he can stop himself, he leans forward and steals a quick kiss from you just because he can. Then his hands settle comfortably at your waist while the two of you sway lazily together to the slow rift of water.

For a little while neither of you says anything. Just listening to the quiet of the night around you.

Then Felix sighs softly, “I can’t believe vacation’s already over.”

Your lips curl into a dramatic pout. “No.”

Your arms slide around his shoulders, pulling you even closer to you. “Let’s just stay here forever.”

Felix smiles against your jaw before pressing a light kiss there. “I’m down for that.”

Then another kiss on your lips, a slow, lingering kiss that leaves warmth spreading through his chest afterward and he wishes — God, he wishes — that maybe real life can wait a little longer.

-

FELIX: If I could stay in this vacation forever with her… I would. [grins] Unfortunately that’s not how life works. [wistfully sighs] We’re going to go home soon. Real life’s going to happen. But I have faith in us. In what we’ve built together. [smiles] I think we’ll figure it out alright. [nods]

-

The water laps softly around the two of you as you stay tangled together near the edge of the pool. Your legs are wrapped around Felix’s waist under the water now, arms looped loosely around his shoulders while his hands rest securely against your thighs.

The night feels impossibly quiet. There’s only sound of water, your breathing and his. And being this close to him feels dangerous sometimes. Because the closer you get to Felix, the more terrifying it becomes to imagine losing this.

Your fingers drift lazily through the damp hair at the nape of his neck while he watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, completely relaxed beneath your touch.

He really is beautiful. Even more up close. The bluish pool light catches the freckles dusted across his cheeks and nose, and without thinking about it much, you lift your hand and gently begin tracing them with your fingertip.

Felix smiles immediately. “What’re you doing?” he asks softly.

“Connecting the dots.”

He chuckles quietly while letting you continue. Then your finger pauses beneath his eye where the tiny heart-shaped freckle sits. You lean in and press a soft kiss there.

Felix’s smile widens instantly afterward, so fond it almost makes your chest hurt. For a moment he only looks at you quietly and softly, he asks, “Is there anything that makes you nervous about living together?”

The question settles between you and so far, living with Felix has felt weirdly easy. Of course there are a few things about him that don’t align with you, but it’s nothing that you can’t tolerate. No moments where you suddenly realized you couldn’t coexist together.

So you answer honestly and shake your head lightly. “Not really.”

Felix’s expression softens a little at that, but then you continue, a little too honest. “I think what makes me nervous is us going back to reality.”

And that’s putting it lightly. Because the truth is you’ve been dreading it since the moment the final day of vacation started.

You glance away briefly before continuing. “When we go home…” Your fingers absentmindedly smooth against the back of his neck. “We’re both going to be busy. And I know you work crazy hours sometimes. We probably won’t get to see each other as much as we want.”

The thought alone makes something heavy settle in your chest. “And I just…” you sigh softly. “I don’t want us to lose this.”

Immediately Felix’s hands tighten slightly against you reassuringly. “We’ll just have to be intentional about it. Like… proper time management. Putting work down when we need to.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah.”

Felix brushes away a strand of hair to the side of your face. “We have to make an actual ‘us time’.”

His thumb tenderly caresses your cheek as he adds. “No matter how busy things get. We have to make time for us.”

You nod slowly at that and somehow hearing him say it so confidently eases something inside you a little. Before another thought settles, he leans forward and kisses you, lingering enough that your head quiet down for a moment.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead stays resting against yours while both of you breathe the same cool night air. And then softly, almost like he’s admitting something fragile, he murmurs, “My life is so much better with you in it.”

Your chest aches immediately. The good kind of ache. And you’re sure it comes from being loved too gently. Too sincerely.

Then, Felix softly whispers, “I appreciate you.”

And god, nobody has ever loved you this loudly before. So you kiss him first this time and then whisper it against his lips. “I appreciate you.”

And Felix smiles into the kiss like hearing that from you means everything.

-

YOU: Throughout the whole experiment, we had no phones. No internet. No distractions. My entire focus was just… Felix. And when we go home, there’s going to be work and people and responsibilities. [softly exhales] So yeah, that worries me a little. I think my biggest concern right now is whether he’s actually going to say ‘I do’ at the altar. [nervously chuckles] If he says no? I’d be very shocked. I’m going to be… very disappointed. And very devastated. [sadly smiles]

-

✨ LOVE IS BLIND: PART THREE is available on Patreon ✨

Please support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

HOST: Welcome to Love Is Blind. For the next few weeks, singles will date one another without ever meeting face-to-face. Their only chance at connection lies within the pods — where walls separate them, and all they have are their voices. If they fall in love, they’ll get engaged without ever laying eyes on each other. Only then will they meet, move in together, and ultimately decide, at the altar, if love… truly is blind.

-

You fix the strap of your dress for the umpteenth time as a production assistant leads you down a sleek hallway. Your heels click softly against the polished floor, your reflection catching in the walls of tinted glass. Every step brings you closer to a lounge filled with women you’ve never met — women who, in the next few weeks, might be your competition, your confidants, or both.

The door swings open, and you’re greeted by a burst of laughter and the clinking of champagne flutes. The lounge is plush and vibrant, couches arranged in a circle, throw pillows scattered like a showroom catalogue. A bar cart gleams in the corner, already stocked with bottles of prosecco.

“Hi!” someone calls out cheerfully the moment you step inside. A brunette in a coral dress waves you over, her smile wide and welcoming.

You exhale, pushing away the nerves, and make your way into the group. Names and details fly quickly as everyone introduces themselves.

“I’m Laura. A marketing manager.” “Daria. Yoga instructor. I’m here for a real connection, you know?” “Sierra and I’m here because I’m tired. I just want to find my husband. ASAP!”

The three women laugh at that, one of them nodding in agreement. When it’s your turn, you clear your throat, forcing a polite smile as you introduce yourself. “I’m a jeweller. And I guess I’m here for the same reason you all are — to see if this works.”

The other women nod, accepting your answer before the conversation shifts again and more contestants coming. Some of them already sound like best friends, giggling over shared interests, while others sit quietly, scanning the room with thin smiles.

You sink into one of the couches, fingers tapping against your glass. Everyone else seems to carry a kind of bold hope with them — bright-eyed, ready to fall in love with a stranger. You, on the other hand, can’t quite shake the voice in your head reminding you that you’ve been fine on your own for a long time.

-

YOU: I’m not really the kind of person who believes in fairy tales, [sheepish smiles] I’ve always been independent. I’ve built my life on my own, and I’m happy with that. I don’t need someone to complete me. But… [pauses] [glances away] [looks back to the camera] I also don’t want to shut myself off forever. I joined this because— [softly sighs] —I want to give myself one more chance to believe in love. And if this doesn’t work too… oh, well [shrugs] [lightly chuckles]

-

The men’s lounge has darker tones, leather couches, a wall stacked with liquor, beers and wines. A pool table takes space in oner corner of the room.

Felix steps inside, his loafers squeaking faintly against the floor. His long, blond hair is styled neatly, but his hands are shoved deep in his pockets as he takes in the room. A few men are already gathered near the bar, laughing loudly, slapping each other on the shoulders like old friends even though they only just met.

“Yo! New guy!” one of them calls, grinning. “Come join us!”

Felix laughs, a soft sound that rumbles from his chest, and makes his way over. Introductions happen quickly, names flying around with easy camaraderie.

“I’m Rob.” “Shane. I’m a personal trainer.” “Musician. Jim.”

When it’s his turn, Felix scratches the back of his neck, suddenly shy under their expectant gazes. “Uh, I’m Felix,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “I’m a chef. But… I like cooking just about everything.”

The group hums in approval, one of the guys elbowing him with a grin. “So you’re the one we’ll all be begging to make breakfast for us, huh?”

Felix just shakes his head with a sheepish smile, his accent lacing his words. “We’ll see.”

-

FELIX: People tell me I have this… voice [laughs] [shakes head] like it makes me sound confident. But honestly? I’m not. Not really. I still get nervous around new people. I just hide it well [chuckles] I became a chef because cooking… it’s a way to take care of people. To show love without saying it out loud. And I think that’s what I want here too — someone I can take care of, and who’ll see me for me. Not just my voice, or… whatever people think when they first meet me. [Look at the camera] [exhales nervously] I don’t know if love is blind. But… I want to believe it can be.

-

All the fifteen female contestants have gathered in the lounge and sit comfortably on the curved velvet sofa when the two hosts steps into frame, stopping just on the marked spot, smiling warmly at the contestants before turning slightly toward the camera.

“Welcome to Love Is Blind,” the female host greets, her voice steady with the practiced cadence of someone who’s said these words dozens of times before. She goes on to introduce herself and the male co-host does the same after.

“You’re here because you’ve all been searching for something real. Something deeper than appearances, deeper than the surface-level dating we all know too well,” she begins. Then briefly looks at everyone, letting the words settle before continuing. “Here’s how it works: Over the next ten days, you’ll have the chance to date one another inside our custom-designed pods. You’ll be able to talk, laugh, and share your lives with a stream of potential love interests.”

The male co-host seamlessly takes it over like they rehearsed it beforehand. Maybe the did. “Here’s the catch. Look won’t play a factor here. The only time you’re going to interact is in one of those private pods. You’re going to be separated by one thin wall.”

The girl sitting next to you lowly gasp like it’s only dawn on her now what she’s getting herself into.

“You won’t ever get to see each other. Not until you’ve made a connection so strong… that one of you decides to propose,” he continues.

Everyone instinctively leaning forward with intrigue, including you. The concept seems absurd to you and that people would do this. That you are doing this.

“If they accept,” the female host takes it over again. “Only then will you meet face-to-face for the very first time.”

Your heart dips like you can vividly imagine how it would pan out. Except that your partner is still one big, blurry figure.

“From there, you’ll go on a romantic getaway, live together, meet each other’s families, and plan your wedding. And in just a few weeks’ time, you’ll stand at the altar and decide… whether love truly is blind.”

Just like that? You wonder if it’s that easy. You wonder if it is even achievable at all.You look around and see the other contestants are just as skeptical. But mostly, you notice a mixture of excitement and nerves flickering across their expressions.

The host smiles again, hands clasped in front of her as she brightly smiles. “So get ready. Because the pods… are now open.”

-

YOU: [nervously laughs] I’m terrified. Like, what am I even doing here? I’m supposed to walk into this little room and talk to strangers about, I don’t know, my life, my dreams, my… heart? [shakily exhales]

-

“Because the pods… are now open.”

As soon as the male host announces it, a chorus of reactions fills the men’s lounge immediately — groans, cheers, anxious laughter. Someone downs the rest of his drink dramatically while another mutters, “Oh, we’re really doing this.”

Felix laughs under his breath, though his stomach twists nervously at the announcement.

The group slowly makes their way down the glowing hallway together, footsteps echoing in the glowing hallway. Ahead of them, rows of illuminated pod doors stand waiting.

For the first time since arriving, the reality of this experiment settles heavily in Felix’s chest.

Somewhere behind one of those walls could be someone he might fall in love with. Someone he could potentially marry in a matter of weeks. It sounds insane and yet—

“Good luck, boys,” one of the contestants says, clapping his hands together.

“Go get that wife. Go get that wife. Go get that wife,” the man on his right chants with a fist pumping the air.

Another guy points toward Felix immediately. “He’s definitely leaving with a wife with that voice.”

Felix groans, face heating instantly as the others cackle. “Guys, please.”

“Yeah, bro sounds like he narrates documentaries,” another comments with a teasing chuckle.

Felix doubles over laughing despite himself, shoulders shaking as he hides his face in embarrassment.

“Alright, alright,” someone says between laughs. “Seriously though. Good luck, everyone.”

The group erupts into laughter and soon, it dies down as a soft chime rings through the hallway. One by one, the pod doors begin lighting up.

Felix exhales slowly, adjusting the lapels of his suit jacket before stepping toward his assigned pod. His hand pauses briefly over the handle. Then he opens the door and disappears inside.

-

FELIX: This whole thing is crazy when you really think about it. [smiles] But I don’t know. There’s also something exciting about it too. The idea that maybe—behind one of those walls—is someone I could genuinely connect with. I’m not expecting perfection. I just… [pauses] I hope I meet someone who makes me feel comfortable enough to fully be myself. Someone I can laugh with. Someone I can build something real with. [shyly grins] And hopefully someone who likes food. Because that would help a lot.

-

The pod is nothing like you imagined. Maybe because you focused on the word ‘pod’ and automatically thought of all-white small, enclosed space with a desk and a chair. But it’s not that at all. Thankfully so.

The pod is spacious. The wall is soundproofed with one wall is made of glowing, glass-like panel which you assume is where you’re facing when you’re talking. There’s a couch positioned in the middle of it all with cushions, a blanket and a matching ottoman. There’s a cart parked on the side, filled with snacks and selection of drinks from water to soda, even the hard liquor. You go straight for the bowl of candies, hoping that sugar can help you with the nerves.

“Hello?”

The sound is heavy and curious, coming from the other side of the room. You stand, freezing for a second with your hand full of candies. This is it. This is your first date. Blind date.

“Hello,” you reply, hoping to sound casual but also, welcoming as you sit on the couch.

There’s a beat of silence and then—

“So, who’s there?” he asks, there’s an ease to his voice, probably making himself comfortable in his pod.

You pop a jelly bean into your mouth and think for a second. “Hopefully your future wife,” you playfully answer, grinning to yourself.

You’re kind of glad that you can’t see each other or else you wouldn’t even be this relax on the first date.

“Oh, hello, future wife!” He greets, lightly chuckling.

And just like that, the search for the one begins.

The whole day, you’re going in and out of pods, talking with different contestants and taking notes on qualities you sought in their personalities as something to ponder on later. It’s not always a smooth sailing. One guy talks endlessly about his workout routine, another brags about his investments, another tries way too hard to be funny. You laugh politely, asking questions, but your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall more often than not.

On another date, you’re curled into the couch, listening patiently as someone recites his “five-year plan” like he’s reading off a checklist. You nod, offer a thoughtful response, but there’s no spark — just surface-level chatter.

By the time you head back to the living quarter, you’re tired because honestly, you never went on so many dates in one day. Also, because, you feel like you’re giving too much already but the results are far from what you expected.

It’s hard to see that this experiment will be a great success but then again, it’s only the first day.

-

YOU: First day is done and I can honestly say… [subtly shakes head] I haven’t felt a connection with anyone yet. But I don’t think love is something you can force, and I definitely don’t want to rush it. If I’m going to connect with someone, I want it to be real. So yeah. I’m gonna take things slowly. And hopefully… someone here will surprise me. [softly smiles]

-

Felix steps into the pod, his nervous grin so wide it nearly splits his face. He doesn’t even explore the pod but plops onto the ouch, staring at the hypnotic glowing wall like if he will himself enough, he could see the person on the other side of the pod.

“Is someone there?” he hesitantly asks after a while.

“Oh?!” A surprised gasp comes, and then, the warm, slightly high-pitched voice comes again. “Is that you, God?”

Felix’s Australian accent slipping out stronger when he laughs and he must admit that the boys are right, it’s his voice. But he tries not to rely on it as he goes through one date after another.

On one date, he’s listening intently as a girl lists all her favorite dishes, and he leans forward, excitement lighting up his eyes. “Ohh, I’m actually a chef— I could make that for you.”

The girl giggles, but it feels light and playful, but there’s no sparks whatsoever.

On another date, he’s asked about his dream date. He rubs his nape, laughing softly. “Honestly? Nothing fancy. Just cooking together in the kitchen. I guess, that would be nice.”

Later, he’s caught in a long-winded conversation with someone who keeps circling back to her ex. He offers polite hums, but his smile is strained, fingers drumming restlessly on his notebook.

-

FELIX: Day one [pauses] I feel like I talked to so many amazing people, but I didn’t really… click yet. Not in the way I was hoping for. I think I just want something genuine, you know? Someone I can open up to. Not just about cooking or hobbies or—whatever. But really open up. I know it’s still early, but… I just hope I can find that here. [smiles]

-

The next morning, you shuffle into the kitchen still sleepy, dressed in an oversized sweater and lounge pants, only to immediately hear your name being called.

“Finally,” Daria says dramatically from beside the island counter. “Sleeping Beauty lives.”

You laugh softly as she walks over and hooks her arm through yours, guiding you toward the group gathered around the dining table.

“Come sit. Yesterday was emotionally traumatic. We need breakfast support,” she playfully says.

Someone nearby snorts loudly while another contestant, Tabitha, is already pouring orange juice into champagne flutes. Her dark hair is styled in beautiful waves, lips glossy and curled into a smile. If this is a regular dating show, she would have been the first to go home with a man because she’s that beautiful.

“Mimosas at nine in the morning is crazy,” you comment as you sit down.

“It’s self-care,” Tabitha replies solemnly before topping the drink off with champagne anyway.

The atmosphere feels lighter today. More relaxed. Less tense than everyone had been during the first day. Maybe because now all of you understand the rhythm of the experiment a little better. Or maybe because several girls already look suspiciously glowing after yesterday’s pod dates.

You’re halfway through your mimosa when a producer calls your name, signaling your next pod date.

“Good luck!” one of the girls teases as you stand. “Maybe this one’s your future husband.”

You snort softly, having one last sip of mimosa. “That’s a terrifying sentence.”

The girls laugh as you head toward the glowing hallway of pods, your nerves twisting tighter with every step. You push open the door to your assigned pod and settle onto the couch with a quiet exhale. The room is quiet, softly lit, the wall in front of you glowing blue. Then—

“Hello?”

The voice is deep. Ridiculously deep. Warm too, like melted chocolate poured straight through the speakers.

“Oh,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. “That voice is unfair.”

There’s a beat of silence before a startled laugh bursts from the other side of the wall. “Unfair?” he repeats, amusement curling through the word.

“You sound like a movie trailer narrator,” you say, leaning back into the couch. “Like you should be saying ‘coming this summer.’”

His laughter grows louder, bright and genuine. “Oh my god. That’s the first thing you say to me?”

“You started it by sounding like that.”

“I can’t control my voice!” he protests between laughs.

“Mm. Convenient excuse.”

Another laugh. Softer this time. Closer somehow. “Well, for what it’s worth, your voice is nice too,” he says.

You narrow your eyes at the wall instinctively. “You don’t have to lie to flirt with me.”

“I’m serious!” His accent slips out more clearly now, warm vowels wrapping around his words.

Cute. You glance down at your notebook, realizing you haven’t even written his name yet.

“Wait,” you say, laughing lightly. “I’ve been bullying your voice this whole time and I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, right.” He chuckles sheepishly. “I’m Felix.”

Felix. The name suits him immediately. You introduce yourself back immediately.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he warmly says.

The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. You’ve had plenty of pod dates already. Conversations that felt rehearsed, awkward, overly polished. But this feels strangely easy like talking to someone you’ve known longer than five minutes.

“So,” Felix says after a moment, “what’s your very important opinion on pineapple on pizza?”

You gasp dramatically. “Absolutely not.”

“What?!”

“That’s a dessert pretending to be dinner.”

“You’re breaking my heart already.”

“You asked.”

“I’m a chef,” he says, mock wounded. “This is devastating for me professionally.”

Your head snaps up. “Wait, you’re a chef?”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a real chef?”

He laughs again. “I think so?”

“Oh, that’s actually really attractive,” you admit before you can stop yourself.

“Oh,” his surprise sounds small and flustered.

You grin immediately, realizing you caught him off guard.

“How many points do I earn from that?”

“Uhm… five,” you playfully answer, still grinning.

“Just five?” he asks, offended.

“You’ll earn more if you tell me what kind of chef are you,” you say, curling your legs beneath you on the couch.

“Mostly pastry,” Felix confidently answers. “But I cook everything. I just really like feeding people.”

The answer comes so naturally that it makes something soften in your chest.

“Feeding people?” you repeat with a laugh. “That sounds very grandmother-coded of you.”

He gasps dramatically. “Excuse you. I’ll have you know I make excellent tiramisu.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, suddenly serious. “Now we’re talking.”

“You like tiramisu?”

“I would genuinely risk my life for good tiramisu.”

Felix bursts into laughter again, loud and delighted. “That’s such a dramatic statement.”

“It’s true.”

“And how many points do I earn from that?” he curiously asks. “It’s gotta be more than five.”

You don’t even hesitate. “Solid ten!”

“Oh, yeah,” Felix cheers, more like a growl than anything.

“I wouldn’t celebrate yet. You only earned fifteen points so far,” you remind him, a chuckle spilled out at the end of the sentence.

“Alright then,” he says playfully. “What’s your ultimate comfort food?”

You hum thoughtfully. “Instant ramen.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“You had all the food in the world and picked instant ramen?”

“Okay, first of all, don’t judge me,” you defend immediately. “Second, specifically the spicy kind at two in the morning when life feels terrible.”

Felix laughs softly. “That’s… actually very real.”

“And yours?”

There’s a tiny pause before he answers. “My mom’s brownies.”

The softness in his voice changes the atmosphere instantly. You can almost picture his smile through the wall. “She used to make them whenever me or my sisters had a bad day. So now I make them for other people too.”

“That’s really sweet,” you murmur before you can stop yourself.

A shy laugh comes from the other side. “Thanks.”

The conversation drifts after that — favorite cafés, failed recipes, childhood snacks you both still secretly buy as adults. Felix tells you about accidentally pouring vinegar instead of wine once during culinary school. Then you confess that you once nearly started a fire trying to make pasta after coming home exhausted from work at two in the morning.

“You almost burned your kitchen down making pasta?” Felix asks through his laughter.

“In my defense, I was tired.”

“You forgot the pasta, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Amateur moves.”

His laughter fills the pod completely now, warm and infectious enough that you find yourself laughing with him, shoulders loosening for what feels like the first time since entering the experiment.

And when the chime signaling the end of the date finally rings, disappointment flickers through you before you can hide it.

“Oh,” Felix says softly. “Time’s up already?”

You hate that the little note of disappointment in his voice makes your stomach flip. “Guess so.”

A pause settles between you and then—

“I hope I get to talk to you again,” Felix says quietly.

Something warm unfurls in your chest. “Yeah,” you answer before you can overthink it. “Me too.”

The line disconnects and somehow, the pod suddenly feels quieter than before.

-

YOU: Felix is funny. Like—actually funny, not trying-too-hard funny. [softly laughs] And his voice is… [groans] See? Now I’m sitting here thinking about some guy’s voice. [laughs] Anyway, that was the first conversation that didn’t feel forced. I didn’t feel like I had to perform or impress him. It just felt… easy. And the way Felix talks… I don’t know. It feels warm.

-

Felix practically floats out of the pod.

The hallway feels warmer somehow, lighter, his grin impossible to hold back no matter how hard he tries to bite it down. He ducks his head as he walks back toward the men’s living quarters, the notebook tucked beneath his arm.

He can still hear your laugh in his head. Still picture the way your voice had softened when he talked about his mom’s brownies. Still feel that weird little flutter in his chest every time you said his name.

It’s ridiculous. He’s smiling over someone he’s never even seen before.

The second he walks back into the lounge, a few of the guys immediately notice the expression on his face.

“Ohhh, look at him!” one of them calls from the dining table. “That’s not the face of a man who had a bad date.”

Another contestant points at him accusingly. “Bro’s glowing.”

Felix groans immediately, laughing as he drops onto one of the dining chairs. “Please leave me alone.”

“Nope,” someone says, sliding a glass of wine toward him across the table. “Sit down and tell us everything.”

Felix accepts the glass with an embarrassed grin while the guys gather around, all loose limbs and curious energy after a long day of pod dates.

“So?” one of them presses. “What happened?”

Felix shakes his head once, still smiling to himself before finally admitting quietly, “I think…” He laughs softly in disbelief. “I think I might’ve found my main person here.”

The table immediately erupts in loud, chaotic cheers.

Felix hides his face briefly behind his wine glass, shoulders shaking with shy laughter.

“It’s just—” he starts, trying to explain himself. “Talking to her felt easy. Like… really easy. I wasn’t trying to impress her or think about what to say next. We just clicked.”

“What’s she like?” another guy asks.

Felix leans back in his chair slightly, thinking about it.

“She’s funny,” he says first, almost immediately. “Like, genuinely funny. And she’s really smart too. But not in an intimidating way.” He pauses, smiling softly to himself. “She just feels very… grounded.”

“And hot,” one of the guys teases. “You’re imagining she’s hot, aren’t you?”

Felix groans loudly while the table bursts into laughter again. “That’s literally the opposite point of this experiment!”

“But are you?”

He tries to fight his smile and fails miserably. “I mean… Maybe a little,” he admits with a sheepish shrug.

The guys howl immediately.

“Nah, he’s gone.” “First casualty of the season.”

Felix shakes his head, laughing helplessly while someone raises their wine glass dramatically. “To mysterious pod girl!”

The others quickly lift their glasses too. “To Felix’s future wife!”

“Oh my god, stop,” Felix whines through laughter, though his cheeks are bright red now.

Still, he lifts his own glass with a shy smile, clinking it gently against theirs. And somewhere beneath all the teasing and laughter, something floods his chest.

Hope.

-

FELIX: I know it sounds crazy because it was literally just one conversation [laughs] but… there was something different about her. She teased me immediately, by the way [laughs] Like instantly [laughs] But I liked that. I liked that she didn’t sound overly polished or fake. She just sounded… real. [grins] I really hope I get to talk to her again.

-

It’s been an eventful day for you and it seems like for a few other people too.

You and Morgan are sitting in the dining table, sharing a plate of sliced fruits with a glass of wine. Both in comfortable clothes, no makeup on, just two girls conversing after a day packed with pod dates.

“Jim really is my type,” Morgan shares, picking up a grape from the plate. “First of all, he’s a musician.”

You chuckle at that because you clearly remember the way Jim cracked a dad joke as an opening on a pod date with you. “Yeah, that’s a plus point,” you nicely comment.

“And he said he’s got tattoos,” Morgan continues, her heart-shaped lips curve into a smile. “And that he left spaces on his body for tattoos of his future children.”

“Oh?” you genuinely intrigued by that, not expecting that a person like Jim would have such heartwarming thinking. Then, you playfully add, “Okay, but… on which part of his body?”

Morgan laughs at that, it’s sonorous and filled with cute little snort in between. And it goes on for a minute that she almost spit the grape she’s chewing.

Another girl joins you in the dining table, holding a steaming mug of tea in her hand. You can’t quite recall her name but she’s the only one with a beautiful strawberry blonde hair. “Do you know this one guy with, like, the deepest voice ever?”

Your hand slightly tightens around the stem of your wine glass. “Yeah,” you manage to casually answer.

“Oh my god, wait,” Morgan cuts in after sipping her wine. “Was it the Australian guy?”

“Yes!”

Your stomach twists unexpectedly.

“He sounds unreal,” she continues, smiling dreamily. “And we had such a good conversation earlier.”

You stare down into your wine, suddenly far too aware of how many women are in this room. Of how all of you are dating the same group of men. Of course Felix is talking to other girls. That’s the entire point of the experiment. Still, hearing someone else gush about him leaves an uncomfortable tightness curling low in your chest.

But you’re not losing hope yet. Maybe beside Felix, there really is someone else here worth opening up to.

-

YOU: See, this is why I didn’t want to get attached to anyone right away. [lightly shrugs] But that’s okay. There’s still time. I feel like I’m finally settling into the experiment now. And hopefully… Hopefully I’ll meet more people I genuinely connect with.

-

Felix is smiling before he even enters the pod. It’s embarrassing, honestly.

One conversation with you and suddenly he’s fixing his hoodie twice in the reflection of the hallway glass and wondering if his hair looks stupid despite the fact that you can’t even see him.

The pod door slides shut behind him with a soft hiss. He settles onto the couch, heart already thumping a little faster in anticipation. Then he hears a soft sigh from the other side of the wall and his smile appears instantly.

“Hey,” he greets warmly. “How’re you feeling today?”

A tiny laugh leaves you. “Still a little surreal, honestly.”

Felix leans back against the couch, smiling to himself at your soft, almost sleepy voice. “Yeah, I get that.”

There’s a small pause before he suddenly grins wider. “Guess what.”

“What?” you ask cautiously.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

Your laughter bursts through the speakers immediately, bright and disbelieving, and Felix physically feels his chest loosen at the sound.

God. He likes your laugh so much.

“Are you this cheesy in the morning?” you ask between laughs.

“No, I’m serious!” Felix insists, grinning helplessly now. “I was literally thinking about our conversation all night.”

“Well,” you say playfully, “I’d love to say I’ve been thinking about you too, but another girl already did the job for me.”

Felix drops his head to the side. “Wait, what?”

“There’s apparently a guy with a really deep voice that all the girls are obsessed with.”

Felix groans loudly, dropping his head into his hand while you laugh softly on the other side of the wall. “Oh, no.”

“So,” you continue innocently, “sounds like you’re popular.”

A grin spreads across Felix’s face. “Are you jealous?” he asks teasingly.

Your scoff comes immediately. “No.”

“Mm.”

“I’m just wondering when will it be my turn.”

“You turn for what?”

“To think about you.”

Felix bursts into laughter at that, warm and genuine. Okay. Yeah. He really likes you.

“That’s fair,” he says once his laughter settles. “This is our second date now.”

“It is.”

“And I kind of want to pick up where we left off yesterday.”

Your voice softens immediately. “Yeah. Sure.”

The warmth in your tone lingers with him for a second before Felix shifts slightly on the couch.

“So,” he says curiously, “I know you can cook.”

You laugh. “That’s a very confident assumption.”

“You almost burned your kitchen down making pasta. That means you at least attempted cooking.”

“That’s true.”

Felix grins. “Do you actually enjoy cooking though? Or is it just… a skill you picked up?”

The silence that follows feels different. Felix hears you inhale softly on the other side of the wall before you finally answer.

“I think it became necessary more than anything.”

His expression softens immediately, ears intently listening in on every noise you make on the other side of the pod.

“My mom worked a lot growing up,” you explain quietly. “Like… a lot. So she didn’t really have time to cook when she came home.”

You pause for a second before continuing. “I kind of just learned because I had to. I started cooking for myself when I was around ten.”

Something twists painfully in Felix’s chest. He can almost picture it too clearly — a younger version of you standing alone in a kitchen trying to figure things out yourself. And judging by the slight tightness in your voice, he knows there’s probably much more to that story. But he also knows better than to push.

So instead, Felix smiles softly to himself and asks gently, “Okay, then what’s the first dish you successfully made?”

Your laugh returns, lighter this time. “An omelet.”

“That’s impressive for a ten-year-old.”

“I had it literally every morning before school because it was fast and easy.”

Felix chuckles softly. “Honestly? That’s kind of nice though.”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly. “It wasn’t bad.”

A comfortable silence settles briefly between you before Felix asks, “What is the one dish that you think is your best?”

You hum thoughtfully. “Probably pasta alla vodka.”

Felix laughs instantly. “You really are a pasta girl, huh?”

“Proudly.”

“Well,” he says confidently, leaning back against the couch, “good thing I’m good at Italian food.”

“Oh, don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Because then I’ll make you cook for me every day.”

Felix doesn’t even hesitate. “I’d gladly do it.”

The silence returns but it’s not awkward at all. And when you finally answer, your voice comes softer than before.

“Okay,” you warmly say, “No takebacks.”

Felix laughs that at that and warmth spreads through his chest so suddenly it almost catches him off guard. Because for one stupid second, he can picture you sitting on the counter while he cooks. Your voice filling the apartment. Late-night pasta dinners and warmth that feels achingly domestic. And the craziest part is, he still has no idea what you look like.

The chime signaling the end of the date rings far too soon.

Felix actually frowns at it this time. “Nooo,” he groans dramatically.

Your laughter spills through the speakers again. “You sound genuinely upset.”