kee.

He was cute. And he was heading toward you.

Why though? Did he want to talk to you? Maybe get your number? Oh my god. What are you gonna do?

You stood frozen, heart pounding in your chest as Anton drew nearer. Sure, he wasn’t the first guy to ever approach you, but he was really cute, and it was ridiculous how fast you were crushing on him.

He’s coming, you told yourself, glancing around casually, trying to check if he really was coming toward you. But just as he was about three steps away—bam! He hit the ground, limbs sprawled out in every direction.

You gasped, rushing over. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

He groaned, kicked at the offending rock that had tripped him, and then dramatically flopped onto the grass as if it had betrayed him too.

You crouched beside him, waving a hand in front of his face. “Excuse me, are you alright?”

Anton blinked up at the sky, glaring like the stars were personally out to get him. Then, locking his glassy eyes on yours, he said, “Hi. My asshole friends abandoned me here.” He hiccupped. “I’m kinda drunk and you’re kinda gorgeous. Would you be so kind as to help me out?”

Caught off guard by his random compliment, you chuckled. “Sure. Here, let me help you up,” you said, tugging his arm, trying to haul him back to a sitting position. “You can walk, right? You were walking just now.”

“Walking’s overrated,” he muttered, but with your help, he managed to get back on his feet, wobbling slightly.

You told him your name. “What’s yours? Do you need a ride?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but someone suddenly appeared beside him, patting his chest. It was Sungchan, someone you knew. “There you are, Anton. We’ve been looking all over for you!” 

“Sungchan, do you know this guy?” you asked, but before Sungchan could answer, Anton tugged at your elbow.

“Yes,” Anton answered like the question was for him, and then pointed a very unsteady finger at Sungchan. “He’s a fake friend. You should never trust people who abandon you.”

Sungchan chuckled. “What are you talking about, man? You’re the one who wandered off!”

Anton smirked, leaning in to whisper in your ear as if sharing a secret. “Friends who gaslight you are not real friends. Don’t forget that.”

“I can’t believe I ditched my girl for this,” you heard Sungchan mutter as he slung Anton’s arm over his shoulder. “Okay, that's enough from you. Where’s that idiot stone? Eunseok!”

A second later, a man came jogging toward you. “Found him?”

“Yeah, help me get him out of here,” Sungchan said, struggling to hold up Anton’s weight.

Eunseok smiled apologetically at you as they shifted Anton’s arm off your shoulder. “He seems like a handful, but he’s a nice guy… well… sometimes.”

You stepped back, watching them as they wrangled him toward a black pickup truck. “He doesn’t seem that drunk, though,” you noted.

Eunseok chuckled. “With this guy? What you see is not what you get. One time, he got wasted and started working on a coding project. Finished the whole thing in one sitting.”

“Didn’t even remember it the next day,” Sungchan added, making a mock exploding gesture at his temple.

You couldn’t help laughing, finding it both amusing and adorable that a fine man like him would have such drinking habits.

“Anyway, thanks again,” Sungchan said, flashing you a quick grin as they finished loading Anton into the truck.

“Bye, gorgeous!” Anton called from the back seat, popping his head out, waving weakly. “I love you!” he added, blowing a kiss your way.

Eunseok scoffed. “You don’t even know her name.”

Anton’s head snapped toward Eunseok. “Who cares what you think, Song Eunseok? You’re a fake friend!”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, waving them off as the truck pulled away. Standing there, you found yourself thinking about Anton—strangely intrigued by this cute, clumsy guy. But before you could dwell on it for too long, you heard Lea’s voice calling your name from inside the house.

“Why are you still out here? Let’s go!”

You skipped toward her, linking arms as she pulled you inside. “I just met the cutest guy ever.”

Your hunt for Anton started the very next day. Living in the on-campus dorms gave you time to walk around the campus before your classes. The problem was, you didn’t know where to start. Your friends could swear they were sick of you, gushing about him and retelling the story of how he called you gorgeous and basically confessed his love for you in under five minutes of meeting each other.

“I know he was drunk, Jill. But people say you become more honest when you’re drunk,” you insisted, not even trying to hide your excitement as you scanned the cafeteria for any sign of him.

“What’s his name anyway?” Mina asked, scowling slightly as she watched you crane your neck, practically spinning in your seat. 

“Anton,” you replied, swooning. “I don’t know his last name, but he’s friends with this guy I know from Sci-Tech, Jung Sungchan.”

Mina scoffed. “Sungchan’s friend, Anton? Aren’t you like neighbors?”

You stopped mid-scan, turning to her with wide eyes. “We’re WHAT?”

As it turned out, Anton lived in the on-campus dorm too. He and Sungchan were roommates, and you only knew this because, apparently, the guy Mina just had to meet at last night’s party was Sungchan. 

“You’re telling me I’ve been looking around campus for him like a lunatic when he’s been right under my nose this whole time?” you asked, clutching your pearls.

Jill snorted into her iced coffee. “You’ve been obsessed for, what? Twelve hours?”

“Thirteen, but who’s counting?” you corrected, turning to Mina. “But wait… You and Sungchan?”

Mina didn’t say anything. She just grabbed her cup of iced coffee and looked away with a suspiciously giddy smile on her lips.

Knowing Anton was your neighbor helped narrow down your search. For a while, you tried catching glimpses of him around the dorm. You even took slightly longer routes to campus, hoping to spot him by chance between classes or during meals. But every time, you came up empty—no sign of him at all.

“Just where does this hot specimen hide his gorgeous self?” you grumbled. “It’s been three days.”

Lea watched you with a glimmer in her eyes. “This is a first. You’ve had crushes before, but never hyper-fixated on one until now.”

“Right? I was just thinking the same thing,” Jill affirmed.

“There’s no one like him,” you gushed, tilting your head dreamily. “I think he might be the one.”

Mina choked on her drink. “You’re not serious.”

You laughed, stroking her back gently. “Of course not. I’m just having fun, guys. Relax.”

“Anyway, why don’t you just ask Sungchan?” Jill suggested, sounding like the only sane one in the group. 

Oh. Right. Sungchan. Why didn’t you think of that earlier? You paused, considering the idea. It was practical and sensible.

“Do you think that’s weird? Just asking out of nowhere?” you asked, biting your lip.

“You’re the one who’s been running around campus like a headless chicken,” Mina pointed out dryly. “Asking Sungchan would be a lot less weird than that.”

You smiled at Mina, batting your eyelashes prettily. “Ask him for me.”

Mina swatted your hand away when you tried to hold her. “We’re not talking right now. And no, I won’t tell you why.”

You grimaced. “Okay, so secretive for no reason. Well, no one’s asking!”

Jill laughed. “Just go to Sungchan. You guys are friends. And it’s not like you’re asking for Anton’s hand in marriage. You’re just curious.”

“Alright, alright,” you relented, standing up from the table. “I’ll ask Sungchan. I’m also gonna ask him why you’re not talking to him.”

Mina gave you a thumbs up as you left the cafeteria, heading out to start your quest. You just hoped your heart didn’t explode from the anticipation before you got there.

You found Sungchan in the dance room, drinking water after practice. You strode over, determined but trying to keep it cool. He saw you coming and grinned, clearly already knowing what this was about.

“Well, well, well,” Sungchan said, putting his bottle down and crossing his arms with a smirk. “What brings you to my humble corner of campus today? Or should I say... who?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “No one. I was just passing by and remembered I needed to ask you what happened between you and Mina. Why’s she mad at you?”

“Uh-huh,” he smirked, leaning back on the wall. “Yeah, you are not here to ask about me and Mina.”

“Why not?” you scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. “She’s snapping at people because of you, and she’s so secretive about whatever it is that’s going on between you two, so I’m here to satisfy my curiosity.”

He shook his head, unfazed. “You wanna know where Anton is, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’ve seen this so many times before. You’re already head over heels. It’s pretty common.”

“Is he that popular?” you asked, genuinely curious, but then you shook your head. “No. Don’t tell me. I don’t care. Where can I find him?”

Sungchan chuckled in amusement. “He’s usually holed up in the tech building, doing nerd stuff. You know, coding, hacking the mainframe, whatever those guys do.” He waved a hand in the air. “Oh, and I’m gonna tell you this only because you and I are tight—you’re gonna need to bring a snack. Anton’s been known to forget to eat when he’s in the zone.”

You crossed your arms, half-joking but half-serious. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do I need to worry about him starving to death before I even get the chance to talk to him?”

“Maybe,” Sungchan said, eyes twinkling. “But hey, if he does, I’ll make sure his last words are something romantic. Like… ‘Tell her... she was... gorgeous.’”

“Oh my god, you’re so lame,” you groaned, turning to walk away, though you couldn’t help laughing. “Thanks!”

He called after you, still grinning. “Anytime! And hey, if you need a wingman, you know where to find me!”

Now you had a solid lead... and maybe a ridiculous wingman if things got really desperate. But most importantly, you had a plan: bump into him as casually as you can.

You spent the next few days timing your trips past the IT building. At first, it felt silly—pretending like you were just ‘happening to walk by’—but today, your patience paid off. There he was, standing just outside the doors, tapping away on his phone. Your heart fluttered the second you saw Anton, that same flush you remembered from the night before creeping up your neck.

You were about to walk over, but then a group of people spilled out from the building, laughing loudly as they passed. You turned away, worried someone might recognize you. As soon as they were far enough, you spun back to see Anton, only to find him gone.

Where did he disappear to? Maybe he went with that group of students. Or maybe he walked the other way. You had no idea.

You sighed. “Next time.”

The next time came—several next times, actually. You just couldn’t land the perfect opportunity! The universe was against you; you could swear with how each encounter was always interrupted by other people, unexpected circumstances, and now, even the weather!

You stared at the sky with a deadpan expression. “Really? Just tell me you don’t want us together, why don’t you?” you sneered at the sky, as if it would respond.

You were supposed to do your routine attempt at ‘bumping-into-Anton,’ but the rain started pouring right when you stepped out of your building. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you didn’t bring an umbrella with you. You sighed, scuffing your shoe against the pavement, debating whether to make a run for it or just wait it out.

“Am I that unlucky?” you muttered to yourself.

Staring at your feet, you noticed a new pair falling into step beside you. You looked up and gasped audibly upon seeing Anton Lee standing there with an umbrella in his hand. He looked as handsome as you remembered—neat appearance, well-kept hair, and his glasses that suited his face perfectly.

“Anton!” you exclaimed, making him glance at you.

He scanned you for a second. “I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ve met.”

You told him your name—clearly and in full. “We met at the party last Friday,” you smiled, hoping he’d remember.

“Oh, I met a lot of people that night.”

“You called me nice and gorgeous?” you offered, gouging a reaction from him, but so far—nothing. “And, uh, you also kinda said you love me.”

Anton blinked, clearly taken aback. “I did?” You saw the confusion in his expression, followed by a flicker of embarrassment. He looked away, his jaw tensing slightly. “Sorry, I must have had some to drink. I don’t remember any of that,” he said, his voice softer, but there was no warmth in it. It felt more like a brush-off.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you said, waving it off casually. “You were really drunk, so it makes sense that you forgot.” You grinned, hoping the playful tone might make the moment less embarrassing.

He seemed like an entirely different person. He was fun that night, sweet even. Was that a one-off thing?

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sound of the rain pounding on the concrete was oddly loud. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, not entirely sure if you should say something or just let it go.

“Well, then. I should go,” he prompted, offering a nod.

You nodded back. “Of course. It was nice seeing you.”

You watched him walk into the rain, dry and safe under his umbrella. You couldn’t help but scoff. If it was the Anton you’d met that night, he would probably share his umbrella with you, make sure you were safe and dry.

“What a bummer,” you muttered, looking down at your feet again as you kicked your tiptoes to the floor. 

You kept your gaze there, replaying the encounter and how awful it made you feel. You barely noticed the car that pulled over in front of you until you heard someone call out your full name.

When you looked up, you saw Anton in a car with his window rolled down. He turned to reach for something behind him before extending his umbrella out to you. It was long enough for you to reach without stepping into the rain, and you grabbed it with a confused look on your face.

“Thank you,” you said.

He just nodded, lips tight. “You can leave it to the dorm lady when you’re done with it.”

“I will!” you replied, smiling at him.

As he drove away, you waved your hand in the air, your smile getting impossibly wider as you clutched his umbrella in one hand.

“You could’ve offered to carpool, but this is fine too,” you mumbled, grinning so wide your cheeks started to sting.

Just like that, your quest to make Anton Lee fall for you was on. You chased him around—well, not really, but you seized every chance to talk to him. First, you personally delivered his umbrella to his dorm room, which surprised him because obviously, he wasn’t expecting it.

When you found him at the cafeteria that day, sitting alone at a table while working on something on his laptop, you walked over with your tray and casually slid into the seat across from him.

“You look like you could use some company. Lucky for you, I am free right now,” you beamed, and he looked up from his laptop briefly just to see who you were.

“I’m working,” he said, reverting his attention to his work.

You leaned forward with a grin. “I know how to multi-task. I can stay still, look pretty, and eat quietly while you work.”

“Do what you want,” he said, noncommittal.

As long as he didn’t tell you to leave him alone, you were fine with being quiet. He was quiet too, and didn’t seem to mind your presence. So you stayed, eating your lunch while on your phone and occasionally sneaking glances at him.

One time, you found him at the library sitting at a table with his headphones in, immersed in whatever he was working on in his laptop, again. You plopped down next to him, spreading your books out.

“It appears you might need some intellectual stimulation. I’ve been told I’m excellent company for that,” you offered, smiling your most charming smile.

Without looking away from his screen, Anton said, “Pass.”

“Are you coding?” you asked, ignoring his refusal.

“I’m studying.”

“For what?” you asked, leaning back to take a peek at his screen. “You’re reading a book on your laptop?”

“It’s convenient.”

You grimaced. “I bet you don’t know what books smell like.”

“No, and I’m not curious so I don’t really wanna know,” he said, facing you. “Can I have some peace and quiet or do you have anything else you wanna ask me?”

“Oh, of course. Sorry. I’ll just be over here being pretty and smart. Don’t mind me.”

He didn’t respond, just nodded slightly, continuing to work. You watched him for a bit, playfully resting your chin in your hand.

“My man is so smart, but so grumpy too,” you muttered and Anton suddenly glanced sideways at you.

You looked away so quickly, you nearly gave yourself whiplash. Then opened a random book and buried your face in it. You could hear him sighing as you grinned into the pages of the book, hoping he didn’t hear what you’d said but knowing damn well he probably did.

You were grinning when he suddenly snatched the book from your hands, flipping it over before giving it back.

“It’s upside down,” he said, fixing his gaze on his screen again.

If it wasn’t for the plans you made with your friends earlier, you would have stayed in the library all day until Anton left. But alas, it was time to go when you received gazillion messages from Lea asking where you were. 

Half-heartedly, you packed away your books and got ready to go. Anton noticed you then but didn’t say anything. You tapped on the table next to his laptop, making him take off his headphones and look at you inquiringly.

“I was thinking of watching a movie this weekend. You’re welcome to join me.”

Anton raised an eyebrow. “I don’t really like movies.”

You shook your head disapprovingly. “Guess we’ll have to change that about you.”

“Good luck with that,” he replied, putting his headphones back on.

Another time, you saw him at the gym when you were there with your friends. He was lifting weights, and you confidently strode over, showing off your figure in your gym outfit. You casually leaned over the machine he was using.

“Wow, so you’re not just working out your brain, you work out your biceps too? Impressive,” you complimented.

“I come here to avoid conversations,” he deadpanned.

“You’re still talking to me, so you’re not really doing a great job,” you chuckled.

Anton sighed, but again, he didn’t tell you to leave. He just continued what he was doing, and you watched for a minute, smirking. You were enjoying yourself, despite his lack of reaction.

“I’ll be over there if you need me,” you said, winking.

“Why would I need you?” he asked, resting his hands for a second.

You shrugged. “You never know when you might.”

As you walked away, your friends were waiting for you, shaking their heads, grinning in amusement, and straight up just facepalming. Mina said, “Girl, is it just me, or are you kinda embarrassing?”

You scrunched your nose cutely at her. “I am, kinda. But it’s okay. He’ll warm up to me soon.”

He didn’t seem put off by your forwardness, which was all that mattered to you because it didn’t seem like you were bothering him. You were resolved to continue what you were doing.

You kept ‘accidentally’ bumping into him at random spots—by the vending machine, dorm hallways, the library aisles, or even walking to class despite being in different buildings. 

Sometimes, you felt a little embarrassed, but you liked how fun it was to tease him and flirt with him, despite his aloof attitude. He was gonna break sooner or later, and whatever he decided to do when that happened, you were prepared to accept. You had projected about a dozen different scenarios of him confronting you, but the reality was far more unique.

“Look at us, fate keeps putting us together. Ever think the universe is trying to tell you something?” you told Anton when you coincidentally—for real this time—ended up in the same college seminar together.

He stared at you. “The universe doesn’t work that way.”

Unfazed, you shrugged, opening your laptop. “Maybe not, but it’s more fun to believe it does.”

Anton closed his laptop and turned his body slightly toward you. “Do you like me or something?”

“Yes,” you replied without missing a beat. “Wasn’t it obvious? I made sure you’d get the message, though.”

He was quiet for a while, staring at you with his forehead creasing. Then he asked, “Why?”

You shrugged, keeping your smile. “Because I do. Hey, you confessed your feelings for me first!”

“When did I—” he stopped, realization flickering on his face, and then he sighed. “I told you, I don’t remember doing that.”

“It’s okay. I remember enough for the both of us,” you teased, tilting your head with an innocent smile.

Anton seemed to realize arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He shook his head slowly, as if accepting defeat. “You know what? Do whatever you want, but I won’t take responsibility for your feelings.”

“You’re not telling me to leave you alone?” you asked, raising your brows in genuine surprise.

He looked at you, baffled. “What?”

“You’re not telling me to leave you alone,” you repeated, this time more matter-of-factly. “So can I take that as a sign that I can keep following you around?”

Anton grimaced, though it was more out of exasperation than irritation. “You’re not seriously going to follow me everywhere, are you?”

You grinned mischievously. “No, not really. But now that you mention it, maybe I should. What do you think?”

“Well then, leave—”

“Good afternoon, sir,” you exclaimed upon seeing the professor walk in, cutting off whatever protest Anton was about to say.

You lay sprawled on Lea’s bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, scowling. Next to you, Lea was perched on her stomach, typing away on her laptop.

“The guy’s a tough nut to crack,” you muttered, shaking your head in frustration. “Do you think… he’s just not interested?”

“I thought he made that very clear with how he keeps ignoring you?” Lea replied, not looking up from her screen.

You sat up with a sigh just as Mina and Jill strolled into the room. “He’s not really ignoring me, though,” you corrected. “More like… he just lets me do whatever I want. Like he didn’t care enough to say or do anything.”

“You guys talking about Anton?” Mina asked and you nodded. “Sungchan is inviting him over for movie night. Apparently, he said ‘yes’.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way? He said he didn’t like movies!”

Mina shrugged, pulling out her phone and flashing you the screen. “I don’t know the details, but Chan said he’s wingmanning you.”

You squealed, grabbing Lea by the arm. “Do you have a nice dress I could borrow? No! I should just go back to my dorm and get one!”

“It’s a pajama party,” Jill interrupted, sitting beside you with a bowl of ice cream in hand. “You’re supposed to wear pajamas.”

You paused, considering. “Yes, but... like, how about a cute nightgown? Those count as pajamas too, right?”

Lea shook her head. “You’ll just complain about being cold.”

You slumped back onto the bed dramatically, face-first. “Friendship is dead. It never existed.”

Later, while the smell of butter and popcorn filled the apartment, you rummaged through Lea’s closet, pulling out a cozy sweatshirt that still looked stylish enough for the movie night. “This will have to do,” you muttered, tugging it on over your pajamas.

Lea, now in a matching set of flannel, raised an eyebrow. “You really think Anton’s gonna notice your outfit at a pajama party?”

“I don’t know. But in case he does,” you paused, checking yourself out in the mirror. “at least I look cute.”

When you got back to the living room, the usual chaos of movie night was already in full swing. Sungchan and Eunseok were bickering over what movie to watch while Sohee raided the snack stash.

Sungchan called out your name, waving you over with a mischievous grin. “Look who actually showed up,” he said, motioning to the couch.

You froze mid-step. Anton was sitting on the long couch, casually leaning back with his arms folded across his chest, looking as aloof as ever. He was wearing pajamas, which was unexpected because you didn’t think he’d be the type to engage in silly activities like this one.

“He’s real,” you whispered into Mina’s ear, eyes wide, and she stifled a laugh. To Sungchan, you said out loud, “Jung Sungchan, you’re my number one favorite person in the world.”

Just as you were about to claim the spot next to Anton, Eunseok walked past and plopped down right where you were headed. Without thinking, you grabbed Eunseok by the arm. “Move!”

Eunseok blinked at you. “Why? What’s going on?”

You picked up a throw pillow and hit Eunseok with it over and over again until he moved out of your way.

“Wow. You’re ruthless,” Eunseok chuckled, shaking his head but laughing anyway. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” you winked at him before turning to Anton. He watched the whole thing unfold with mild amusement, shaking his head as you settled in.

“Comfortable?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Very,” you grinned, inching just a little closer to him. “Fancy seeing you here. I didn’t think you’d really show up. And in pajamas, no less,” you said, flashing him a wide grin.

Anton glanced at his clothes briefly. “Sungchan insisted,” he said flatly.

“Well, I’m glad you came,” you said, batting your eyelashes and hoping you looked cute doing it.  “It’s not every day I get to sit next to my favorite person.”

Anton raised an eyebrow, unamused. “Didn’t you say Sungchan was your favorite?”

“Ah, a jealous man,” you said, clicking your tongue. “It’s okay. I like them possessive.”

“I’m leaving,” he sighed, standing up at once.

You grabbed his arm and tugged him back to the couch. “You’re no fun, did you know that?”

“Wasn’t trying to be,” he replied, leaning back on the couch, looking unbothered.

Determined to get some sort of reaction, you scooted closer, pretending to examine his face. “Do you always wear glasses?” you asked, feigning curiosity. “They make you look extra smart.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, side-eyeing you. “I am extra smart.”

You giggled, undeterred. “I bet you’re super smart, Mr. IT Genius. You could probably hack into all our phones right now.”

Anton didn’t seem fazed. “I’m not that smart. And hacking is illegal.”

“Well, that’s good. Otherwise, you’d see all the photos I took of you before,” you teased, leaning even closer so your shoulder brushed his. “For research purposes, of course.”

This time, Anton did look at you, but only briefly. “What kind of research?”

“Oh, just, you know,” you waved a hand vaguely, “studying the behavior of elusive, handsome introverts.”

“Sounds like stalking to me,” he replied dryly, though his lips twitched into a faint smile. You’d almost missed it if you weren’t staring right at him.

You grinned, feeling triumphant at his tiny show of amusement. “Was that a smile just now? Did I just make you smile? Does that make me your happiness and joy?”

Anton lolled his head back, sighing. “Just what is up with you?” he asked, genuinely bewildered.

Getting a real reaction from him, albeit an exasperated one, made your stomach flutter. “I’m persistent. Haven’t you noticed?”

“I have,” he said, glancing sideways at you.

Before you could respond, Sungchan’s voice boomed across the room. “Movie’s starting, everyone! Grab your snacks, get cozy!”

The lights dimmed, and the opening credits began to roll. You wiggled in your seat, purposely leaning just a little closer to Anton, your head brushing against his arm.

Every now and then, you’d make little comments, trying to catch his attention. Anton remained mostly unresponsive, only glancing at you occasionally, but he didn’t seem bothered either. In fact, the more you nudged him or commented, the more relaxed he seemed.

Finally, you ‘accidentally’ let your head rest on his shoulder. “Oops,” you whispered, eyes still fixed on the screen. “My bad.”

Anton sighed, but to your surprise, he didn’t push you off. “You’re really pushing your luck tonight.”

You grinned up at him, batting your lashes. “What can I say? I like taking my chances.”

“Just watch the movie,” he muttered, sounding annoyed but not making a move to push you away.

With a satisfied smile, you snuggled a little closer, content with your minor victory. 

After the movie, everyone stretched and yawned. Sungchan and Sohee were already debating what to watch next, while Jill and Lea were dramatically complaining about the lackluster conclusion to the movie. You continued the night with laughter and conversations over light drinks. It was a school day, so no one was entertaining the idea of getting drunk.

You glanced at Anton, who had stayed quiet throughout the night, except for a few quips here and there. You often flirted with him in between conversations, but as usual, he couldn’t even be bothered.

When the group started to pack up, you took a deep breath and turned to him. “Hey, do you wanna walk back to the dorms together?” you asked, keeping your tone light and hopeful.

You were the only ones going back to the dorms, since the rest of your friends lived off-campus, and Sungchan was obviously staying over at Mina’s.

Anton stood up, gathering his things without making eye contact. “No, thanks,” he said simply, pulling his jacket over his shoulder.

Your heart sank a little, but you didn’t want to let it show. “That’s fine, heh,” you said quickly, trying to brush it off with a casual laugh. “Didn’t think you’d say yes anyway.”

He paused for a moment, adjusting his jacket before looking at you with a slight frown. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t need to follow me around.”

The words stung more than you expected, even though you’d been joking about it all night. You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead, you just nodded, forcing a small smile. “Got it.”

Anton gave a short nod, then turned and headed for the door without a second glance. As you watched him leave, the giddiness you’d felt earlier fizzled out. You knew he wasn’t trying to be cruel, but his rejection still hurt. You’d pushed and pushed all night, and for a moment, it felt like maybe he was warming up to you. But now, it seemed like you had been wrong all along.

Mina noticed your somber expression and walked over. “You okay?”

You plastered on a smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll head back now. See you guys tomorrow?”

Your farewell was noisy, with your girls dramatically begging you to stay. There was a big smile on your lips when you exited the door, but as you headed back to your dorm, thoughts of Anton’s words stayed with you. 

Maybe this little game of flirting wasn’t as fun for him as it was for you. Maybe you were pushing too hard. It had been fun for the most part, a lighthearted chase that kept your heart racing, but now it was starting to feel tiring—draining, even.

Your brows furrowed in frustration. “I should stop…” you muttered under your breath, kicking at a stray pebble in your path. Then, with a small pout, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “Men ain’t shit,” you grumbled, though the bitterness in your voice didn’t quite match the half-hearted way you said it.

“Now, now, sweetheart,” said a greasy, slurred voice from behind you, giving you goosebumps all over. “You don’t really mean that, do you?”

How deeply distracted were you that you didn’t notice the dragged-out footsteps behind you? 

You tried to brush it off, pretend you didn’t hear anything. When his steps drew closer and he called out again, you got ready to run. But he’d grabbed your arm before you could make a run for it.

Not so fast, sweetheart.” His breath reeked of alcohol. “What’s a pretty girl doing out here alone?”

You shot him a sharp glance, trying to ignore the knot tightening in your stomach. “Sir, please get your hands off of me,” you said, trying to swat his hand away but he tightened his grip.

“I’m not so bad, am I? C’mon. I could use a little company,” he slurred and every nerve in your body screamed danger.

“Let go!” you snapped, your voice rising in panic. You stumbled back, but his grip was strong, steering you toward the wall behind you. Your back hit the concrete, the coldness of it running up your spine. His fingers dug into your shoulders, breath sour with alcohol as he leaned closer.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart,” he slurred. “I just wanna talk.”

Your pulse hammered in your ears. You glanced around at the empty street, and the dim lamplights. Panic crawled up your throat when you realized the danger you were in.

“Hey!” The shout cut through the air. You snapped your head toward the sound and almost cried when you saw Anton sprinting toward you.

The drunk man froze, his head whipping in the same direction. That single second of hesitation was all you needed. You drove your knee up hard—right where it hurt.

He doubled over with a strangled groan, clutching himself. Anton skidded to a stop in front of you, wincing at the sight.

“Damn,” he blurted, still grimacing. “That looked like it hurt.”

“Anton…” you breathed, heart hammering in your chest.

He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but reassuring. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice calm but laced with urgency. “Before he gets back up. Come on.”

You ran, pajamas flapping awkwardly as you bolted down the street. Getting harassed in oversized Pucca pajamas—really? The ridiculousness of the situation would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so shaken.  

Your heart pounded as you rounded the corner, Anton’s grip tightening around yours until you were safely back inside the campus gates.

When you finally slowed down, panting, you glanced at him. “Oh my god!”

Anton looked at you, still catching his breath. “I know.”

The simple acknowledgment sent a strange warmth through you. You both stood there for a moment, the adrenaline fading. You were still catching your breath, trying to process everything that had just happened. 

“Thank you,” you breathed out. “You really saved me back there.”

“I didn’t. It was all you. That guy’s family jewels are done for,” he quipped, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Is that a joke?” you teased, pointing at his lips. “Are you laughing at your own joke?”

He looked at you, his expression shifting back to its usual deadpan. “I didn’t laugh. Be more careful next time. Don’t just walk by yourself, especially at night.” His voice was almost scolding, but there was an unmistakable note of concern in it. 

You blinked up at him, feeling your heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the scare you just had. “You know, I could guilt-trip you right now and say you should have said yes when I asked to walk back together.”

You expected him to sigh and ignore your teasing, like he usually would. But he didn’t. Instead, he quietly took off his jacket, draped it over your shoulders, and zipped it up for you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be walking alone when I refused,” he said, sincerely, like he really meant it.

For a while, you couldn’t move, or talk, or even think coherently. Your brain was short-circuiting at the warmth and the smell of his jacket that engulfed your smaller frame.

“I didn’t know your other friends weren’t staying in the dorms,” he added, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

Anton noticed your dazed stare, his brows furrowing before he sighed, clearly not amused by whatever was going through your head. Without a word, he tugged the hoodie over your head, covering your face.

“Go back to your room,” he muttered, exasperated. “And stop being weird.”

You pulled the hood back, grinning, but he was already walking away.

“Hey! Wait for me! What if he comes back?” you called, jogging after him.

This wasn’t part of the plan. You were doing just fine on the sidelines of college life, navigating the highs and lows of being a student. You were content not drawing attention to yourself in places that didn’t need your presence, happily enjoying the fun college functions from a distance.

Why did you have to join the student council on a whim?

“I’m so sick of this,” you muttered, hauling a large box of banners back into the storage room. Someone else could do it if only there were other hands available to help. Frustrated, you kicked the box, only to recoil in pain when it slammed against your foot. “Ouch!”

“Move,” came a familiar voice. Anton brushed past you, easily lifting the box like it weighed nothing. You followed him inside, a grin creeping onto your face.

“Thank you,” you said, genuine gratitude lighting up your tone.

“Next time, ask for help if you can’t handle it,” he replied with a side-eye.

“There was no one around!” you protested.

“You didn’t ask me.”

“You were busy!”

“Then you should’ve waited until I wasn’t.”

“Why are you mad? It’s not even your job!” you replied, pouting. Anton sighed and walked off. You hurried after him, your shorter strides barely keeping up. When he stopped suddenly, you almost bumped into him. He turned, eyes scanning you with that unreadable expression that always made your chest feel weirdly tight.

“Are you checking me out?” you quipped, knowing how he’d react—a scoff and a side-eye.

Anton scoffed. “Are you heading back to the dorm now?” he asked, and you nodded. “Wait here,” he said before climbing up the sound box to fetch his backpack. When he came back down, he pulled out a jacket and handed it to you.

“Oh, I’m good. I have one in my bag,” you said, shaking your hands.

“Forget it, then.”

“No, wait—I’ll take it!” you said quickly, snatching it before he could put it away. “Mine’s not warm enough. Thanks.”

He rolled his eyes. “Go get your stuff. We’re leaving.”

You blinked. “Together?”

“We’re going the same way anyway,” he muttered. “Can’t have you getting in trouble again.”

“We’re on the campus, I don’t think anyone would try something like that here.”

He turned his back. “If you don’t want to, just say so.”

You smiled, not even trying to hide how giddy that made you feel. “I didn’t say that.”

After what happened the other day, Anton seemed to be warming up to you for real now. Maybe he was just guilty, but at this point, it didn’t matter. You’d spontaneously combust before you pass up on the chance to spend time with him.

You rushed to grab your bag and waved goodbye to your friends before jogging back. Anton was still waiting, looking like he was second-guessing the whole thing.

“Let me just remind you that this was your idea,” you said, laughing as you caught up and laced your fingers with his. He didn’t pull away. “So stop looking at me like I forced you into this.”

He exhaled sharply, looking annoyed though his words suggested otherwise. “Put the jacket on. It’s cold.”

“Oooh, Anton Lee,” you teased, leaning closer. “Trying to get promoted to green flag?”

“I’m not a red flag,” he said monotonously.

“When did I say you were?”

“You kept implying it.”

You chuckled. “You know, they say people who insist they’re not red flags usually are.”

“Just wear the jacket,” he said flatly. “I don’t want to be responsible for your hypothermia.”

You stepped back to slip it on, unlinking your hand from his—only for Anton to catch it again. You blinked, caught off guard.

“Well, damn,” you teased. “Didn’t think you liked me that much. But I kinda need both hands to do this.”

He froze, then released you like he’d touched something hot. That made you grimace.

“Okay, offensive. Do you hate it that much?” you said with a laugh as you zipped up the jacket. “And no one’s getting hypothermia in this weather. It’s not that cold.”

He sighed. “Can we walk quietly and pretend we don’t know each other?”

“Nope,” you said, looping your arm through his. “Impossible. We totally look like a couple right now.”

“We don’t.”

“Yes, we do,” you sang, resting your head against his arm. The two of you walked under the soft glow of the pathway lights, Anton not pulling away from you, and you just basking in the moment.

The school festival was coming up, and you got to work with Anton for the preparations—you as part of the student council, and him with the IT Club. Your tasks didn’t really overlap, but you were content just being in the same space as him.

While Anton worked with a clubmate on the sound system, you were assigned to decorations and logistics. You organized tables, hung streamers, and made sure everything was in its place—all while stealing glances at Anton and his team. Even if your work kept you on opposite sides of the field, you still made a point to stroll by his area now and then, smiling whenever your eyes met. Anton would only nod to acknowledge you, but each exchange was a little jolt of happiness for you.

During a break, you found yourself near the sound booth, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. Anton was just adjusting a microphone, but in your lovestruck eyes, he looked effortlessly cool, his concentration only making him more attractive.

“Don’t just stand there. You’re making me nervous,” he said when he caught you staring.

“Do I? They say being around someone you like makes you nervous,” you shot back with a grin.

“They lied,” he deadpanned, shaking his head. “Don’t break anything.”

“Guess the only thing I’ll be breaking is your heart when I leave,” you said dramatically after hearing someone call your name across the field. “Sorry, Anton. Duty calls. Try not to miss me too much.”

Anton rolled his eyes. “Just go. Don’t come back.”

“Please. You’d notice the second I was gone,” you teased, walking away without looking back.

On the day of the festival, music drifted from the courtyard where the marching band played, and the air smelled faintly of grilled food and sugar. You stood with your friends beneath the banner that read Welcome to the 00 University Festival!, cheering as the president wrapped up his speech about the academy, community, and creativity.

“Let the festivities begin!” he declared, and the crowd broke into cheers.

From there, the day unfolded in color and sound. You tried your luck at balloon darts, lost embarrassingly fast at the ring toss, and nearly tripped through the inflatable obstacle course.

Between rounds, you made your way to the sound booth, where Anton and Wonbin were fine-tuning equipment for the performances.

“Snacks for the hardest-working people on campus,” you announced, holding up a paper bag of food and drinks.

“Thanks a lot!” Wonbin said with a grin, immediately fishing out a snack. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Anton just nodded, his eyes still on the soundboard. “Appreciate it,” he said, taking a sip from the drink you handed him.

“You guys are killing it,” you said. “Can’t wait for the party tonight.”

Wonbin chuckled. “We’ll make sure it’s a good one. You coming to dance?”

“Obviously,” you said, flashing him finger guns. “Wouldn’t miss DJ Wonbin’s big night.”

He laughed, then gave Anton a playful nudge. “Your girl knows how to flatter.”

Anton’s forehead creased as he glanced at you. “She’s not my girl.”

“She’s not?” Wonbin asked, genuinely surprised.

“Not yet,” you cut in, winking at Anton before heading back into the crowd.

The hours slipped by in a whirl of noise and sunlight. You checked in on them now and then—sometimes with more food, sometimes just to say hi. Every time, Anton looked the same: focused, calm, the corner of his mouth twitching whenever you teased him.

“Want a break?” you asked during one of your visits. “You’ve been standing here all day.”

“I’m fine,” he said without looking up. “Just want to make sure nothing crashes before the main event.”

You pulled a waffle from the paper bag and held it out. “At least eat this. A not-so-little bird once told me you forget to eat when you’re in the zone. It was Sungchan.”

He chuckled as he accepted the stick. “Thanks.”

He smiled, and—ugh—you could feel yourself swooning again. “Don’t get me wrong, I like the mysterious, unapproachable vibe you have going on. But you look sooo much more charming when you’re smiling like this.”

As if on cue, Anton’s face reverted to its usual deadpan, which only made you laugh harder. “Default mode’s fine too,” you said between giggles.

He shook his head, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitch again before he turned back to the console.

“Fine,” you said, stepping away with a grin. “I’ll stop distracting you now.”

“Thank you, that would be lovely,” he said monotonously, eyes on the monitors.

You left the booth still smiling, the music from the speakers chasing you across the field. The sun was already setting, painting everything in that golden pre-evening light. Stalls glowed under their fairy lights, the air smelled of butter and smoke, and laughter echoed from every direction.

You met up with your friends again, joining them in games and food, but your gaze kept drifting back to the sound booth. By the time the performances started, the sky had deepened into deep blue. Wonbin’s voice boomed through the mic as he hyped up the crowd, and Anton sat behind him, barely visible save for the top of his head.

The festival carried on around you until the last performance ended and the lights dimmed one by one. By then, the energy had mellowed and the crowd had thinned out significantly.

Students began gathering leftover props and decorations. “I can’t believe how well everything turned out,” you muttered, tossing a pile of streamers into a trash bag.

Wonbin, stacking equipment nearby, glanced your way. “Yeah, it was a success. Thanks for all your help today.”

“Of course! It was so much fun being a part of it,” you replied with a smile. Across the field, you caught sight of Anton winding up cables. Even now, with the day done, he still looked fresh and handsome in the night light. The sight of him made you smile wider.

The student council president clapped his hands, calling everyone’s attention. “That’s a wrap, people. And before we call it a night, I am delighted to announce that we will be going on a weekend escapade after this. A little break for an entire week of working and pulling off such a wonderful festival this year.”

Cheers rose from the group, and your heart skipped at the thought of spending more time with everyone—especially with Anton. This time, not for duties and work, but for fun!

“Glad to see everyone’s up for it!” the president said, smiling. “For now, let’s pack up what we can tonight, make sure nothing gets left behind, and then we’ll head to the after-party.”

You worked alongside the others, packing what needed to be stored away. The rest, thankfully, would be handled by the university staff in the morning. When everything was finally in order, people started drifting off—some heading back to their dorms, others already on their way to the off-campus after-party.

It was a big shift from the organized funfest of the festival to a freer, more unfiltered mayhem. The living room was packed with students, and the atmosphere smelled of alcohol, vape, and perfumes mixed with the faintest hint of sweat. Colorful lights danced across the walls and over the swaying crowd.

“Let’s grab some drinks!” Mina yelled over the music, dragging the group toward the makeshift bar. You followed, adrenaline kicking in as you poured whatever mix of alcohol and soda the jocks had concocted.

Cup in hand, you scanned the room until your gaze landed on Anton. He was standing in a corner, one hand in his pocket, a drink in the other, watching the chaos with an amused expression. The strobe lights caught in his hair, and even in a plain white t-shirt, he somehow stood out.

Without thinking, you weaved through the crowd. “Wow, you’re here,” you said, genuinely surprised to see him.

“Not willingly,” he said, raising his cup in greeting.

“Wanna join the madness?” you asked, gesturing toward the dance floor, where a large group of students swayed, lost in the music and alcohol. Mina and Sungchan were there too, hands on each other like no one else was in the room.

“Pass,” he said, not even giving it a thought.

“Knew you’d say that,” you mumbled, grinning into your cup.

Across the room, Mina waved at you, and you lifted your drink in return. “They look so in love, it’s annoying,” you said, though your smile was soft, not bitter.

Anton followed your gaze, his expression unreadable. “Doesn’t look like love to me.”

You turned to him, surprised. “What? You can’t see it? They can’t even keep their hands off each other.”

He shrugged. “Could be the alcohol. You don’t need love for that.”

You studied him. There was no judgment in his voice but you could tell that he was a cynic. “You don’t believe in love, do you?”

“Love’s overrated,” he said simply, taking a slow sip.

You just nodded, acknowledging his admittance and respecting his opinions. “Are you sure you should be drinking? You can’t handle your liquor.”

He tilted his cup toward you. “This is soda. I’m not drinking. Can’t afford to make dumb mistakes.”

You caught the edge in his tone. “Like calling some stranger gorgeous and confessing your love for them?” you said, half teasing, half testing the waters.

“Exactly that.”

You felt a pang in your chest. Whether it was because he called your first meeting a ‘mistake’ or not, you’re not really sure. But it totally killed the vibe. 

“Well, good luck with that.” You tapped your cup against his. “Enjoy the party.”

You turned to leave, but his hand caught yours, fingers curling just enough to stop you. The contact was light, but you could feel his hesitation when he released your hand.

“Where are you running off to?” he asked, clearing his throat and looking away.

You let out a short laugh. “I’m gonna go have some real fun. Dancing, drinking, maybe some games because I’m quite good at them,” you smiled, motioning to the party around you. “It’s a party after all.”

He nodded, and under the flash of blue and red and green lights, you couldn’t quite tell what expression he was wearing when he said, “Have fun, then.”

“I will,” you said with a smile, before melting back into the crowd.

You didn’t see him for the rest of the night, and you didn’t try looking. You just let the music take over, losing yourself in the blur of laughter and lights, and trying not to think about how disappointing it felt that he’d called your first meeting a mistake.

Early Saturday morning, you gathered at the school plaza with other members of the festival working group. You were set to leave at 9 am, and despite the hangover you somehow made it on time—not without a splitting headache that the others seemed to share.

“Alright?” asked Anton, appearing beside you with a scowl when he noticed you pressing your fingers to your temples.

“Oh, hi,” you greeted, forcing a grin before wincing. “Ugh. My head is killing me.”

“And whose fault is that?” he said with a smirk.

Before you could come up with something clever, Wonbin appeared, holding a small plastic bag with a packet of medicine in it. “Here,” he said, offering one to you. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

You groaned dramatically. “Thanks a lot, Wonbin. You’re a literal angel.”

The tips of his ears turned red. “That’s—uh—it’s not much.”

“No, really. You’re glowing. Your beauty is blinding,” you said, squinting up at him as if to shield your eyes. “A literal angel,” you added, making Wonbin laugh bashfully.

Anton scoffed. “Take the medicine before you pass out.”

“Oh, right.” You popped a pill into your mouth, then struggled to twist the cap off the water bottle. Just as Wonbin reached out to help, Anton grabbed it from your hand and opened it with an easy twist.

“Thanks,” you said, raising the bottle in salute before turning back to Wonbin. “And thank you, my angel.”

Soon, the rest of the group arrived, ready for the trip. Since the university didn’t sponsor the outing, everyone had chipped in for expenses and carpooled in whoever’s car had room.

Without giving it much thought, you headed straight to Anton’s car, making yourself comfortable in the shotgun like you belonged there.

He didn’t seem to mind, though he did glance your way. “I thought you were riding with Wonbin.”

“Oh, we’re not that close. And he didn’t invite me,” you said, buckling your seatbelt. “Besides, I’d rather ride you.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. His hand froze mid-air, and silence filled the car, you could swear you could hear crickets in your own head.

“With you!” you blurted, mortified. “I meant—I’d rather ride with you.”

Anton blinked, then nodded coolly. “Yeah. I know.”

You laughed awkwardly and turned toward the window, silently begging for the ground to swallow you whole. When the other cars began pulling out of the parking lot, you noticed Anton still hadn’t started his engine.

“Are we waiting for someone?” you asked.

“There he is,” he said, nodding toward Sohee jogging toward the car with a backpack.

Sohee jumped into the backseat, slightly out of breath. “Wow. Thanks for not leaving me behind.”

“I almost did,” Anton muttered, finally starting the engine.

You sank a little in your seat, grateful for the distraction—and even more grateful you didn’t have to say another word.

The car ride was filled with laughter as Sohee took charge of the music, blasting upbeat tracks that made it impossible not to move. He sang along, his voice rising above the catchy beats, and every now and then, he added exaggerated dance moves from the passenger seat, making you and Anton laugh.

“The festival was epic,” Sohee said after a while. “But you know what would’ve made it more legendary? A water balloon launcher. Next year, I’m bringing one.”

Anton rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. “You’d just end up hitting someone with that.”

“So what? As long as you make memories, right?”

You laughed and reached for the iced coffee in the cup holder, holding it out for Anton as he drove. He took a sip without hesitation, not even a glance at your direction as he was focused on the road.

Sohee’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. Why don’t you two just kiss in front of me, then?”

Anton’s brows furrowed. “Why would we do that?”

“Right?” you blurted, snorting as you turned to Sohee. “Didn’t know you were kinky like that, Sohee,” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully at him.

Sohee groaned. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Well, you’re being dirty,” you said, turning back to Anton. “I was just being nice. Driving is no easy task.”

“Right, just being nice,” Sohee mocked. “When did he stop complaining about you invading his space?”

“Oh, he’s never complained about that,” you said easily.

Sohee gasped dramatically, hand flying over his mouth. “Ever?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Not that I remember,” you said, peering at him in the backseat. “And I remember every single interaction we had,” you added proudly.

“But he doesn’t like it when people are in his space,” said Sohee, pointing at Anton with a surprised expression. “He hates it.”

You glanced at Anton, but he didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Enough, dude. You’re gonna make her think I’m enjoying this.”

Sohee grinned. “Aren’t you? I mean, who wouldn’t want a hot girl following him around, handing him drinks?”

Anton snickered. “What hot girl are you even talking about?”

You gasped, but before you could say anything, Sohee exclaimed, “Dude, are you blind? She’s right there! 1-800-hot-n-fun.”

That made you laugh, just as Sohee leaned between your seats, finger gun pressed to your temple. “Excuse me, ma’am. You’re under arrest for being ten out of ten and too hot to handle.”

You both burst out laughing, and even Anton’s lips curved into a reluctant smile. “Settle down before I kick you two out,” he chided.

Sohee leaned back with a grin, sighing. “Is it weird that I’m more invested in your relationship than you are?”

You pointed at him. “Shut up. No one’s more invested in our relationship than I am.”

As the miles rolled by, the countryside unfolded around you, with fields of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. At some point, you had to stop at a gasoline station because Sohee needed to use the restroom.

“How about you?” Anton asked, just as Sohee had left the car.

You shook your head. “I’m good,” you replied, glancing at him. He was scrolling through his phone and only hummed at your response.

You watched him for a moment—handsome, as always, with that charisma that seemed to come so naturally to him. You didn’t mean to stare, but your gaze lingered on his mouth longer than it should have. There was that faint, almost-smile he always had—like he was always on the verge of actually letting it show. It made you wonder what it’d take to coax a real one out of him.

But more importantly, you wondered if his lips were as soft as they appear to be.

“You know,” you said, voice light but teasing, “you have really pretty lips.”

Anton paused, glancing at you and blinking like he wasn’t sure he heard you right. His eyes flicked to your mouth, then back to his phone, brushing you off as usual. “Thanks.”

“Can you tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue?” you asked, leaning a little closer with an innocent smile on your lips. 

You knew exactly what you were doing—the teasing tone, the loaded question. It was playful, sultry, but in a way that you could brush off if he didn’t bite. You fully expected his usual indifferent response.

Then again, there was the possibility that maybe he’d pick up your hints this time, and maybe he’d do something about the tension that was building up between you right at this moment. Maybe—

“I don’t think anyone can,” he answered flatly, brows furrowed like he genuinely and seriously thought about the question.

You threw your hands up dramatically. “Oh my god. What was I expecting?” you scoffed, shaking your head and looking away.

Anton remained quiet, so you glanced back at him. His jaw was clenched tightly, and somehow it felt as though you’d said something you shouldn’t have. 

You swallowed, unsure whether to laugh it off or hold your breath. “What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned toward you. Before you could process what was happening, his hand was already cupping the back of your head, and then his lips were on yours.

You were momentarily stunned, grappling with the sensation of his lips pressing against yours and the racing thoughts in your head. His fingers tightened slightly, tilting your head at just the right angle to kiss you deeper. It was firm, yet slow, like he’d been thinking about it for much longer than you’d realized. You closed your eyes as you melted into him, kissing him back and feeling the warmth spread through your chest. Your heart raced in its cage—so wildly that you swore Anton could feel it echoing in his own.

When he pulled back, he was wearing a rare smirk on his lips and a triumphant glint in his eyes.

“So?” He asked, voice low like he meant for only you to hear it. “Can I?”

It took you a second to catch up. “Huh?”

Anton’s lips curved into a full smirk this time. “Can I tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue?”

You blinked at him, speechless—then let out a helpless laugh. “Y-yeah,” you stammered, flustered and still catching your breath. “Absolutely. You’re amazing. Basically a pro. Heh.”

You were still reeling—trying and failing to act normal—when Sohee climbed back into the car, completely oblivious to what had just happened. He noticed something, though, because his eyes darted between you and Anton suspiciously.

“What?” you asked, forcing a casual tone that probably wasn’t fooling anyone.

He shrugged slowly. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Again with your nonsense,” Anton replied, casually driving away after dismissing Sohee’s suspicion like it was nothing.

Sohee didn’t press, and it was only you who could see the smirk on Anton’s lips, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. It was infuriating, but also oddly disarming. You could still feel the press of his lips on yours, and it took everything in you not to touch your mouth, just to check if it had really happened.

You arrived at the villa, its stone walls glowing warmly under the afternoon sun, half-hidden behind tall trees. There was a welcoming warmth to it, and you hoped it was as comfortable as it looked.

“Wow, this place is massive,” Sohee commented dramatically as he stepped out of the car, looking up at the villa as if it were a five-star resort.

A girl with long hair and a bright smile appeared on the porch. “Hey, guys! You made it!” she called, waving.

“Claire?” Sohee blurted, surprised.

“Sohee!” she exclaimed, running to Sohee for a quick hug.

You caught Anton stiffen beside you, his expression shifting so subtly that you might’ve missed it if you weren’t already watching him.

“What are you doing here?” Sohee asked, pulling away.

Before she could answer, the student council president emerged. “You’ve arrived! Perfect. Have you met Claire?” he said, smiling. “She’s been kind enough to offer her family’s villa for the weekend.”

“Oh, I know these guys. We go way back,” Claire said, gesturing between Sohee and Anton.

When she turned to you, her smile widened. “Hi! You are…?”

You shook her hand, matching her brightness as best as you could. You told her your name. “Nice to meet you.”

“Come on in! Everyone’s waiting.”

As the president led you inside, you caught Claire looping her arm through Anton’s. He didn’t pull away. Something sharp twisted in your chest before you could stop it. Jealousy, it seems.

Sohee leaned close, whispering, “That’s Anton’s ex.”

You glanced at them again—Claire laughing softly, Anton saying nothing, his face unreadable. 

The first order of business in the villa was rest, and then dinner. You hadn’t planned on helping out in the kitchen, but when you noticed only a few had volunteered, you reluctantly joined in. A mistake, you realized. From where you stood, you had a clear view of the living room where Anton sat with Claire and a few other people. She looked far too comfortable beside him, her laughter ringing out over the murmur of conversations. Your chest tightened at the sight.

It’s fine. He’s allowed to have a past, you told yourself, slicing the watermelon a little too forcefully. But did she have to sit that close? Exes shouldn’t be that friendly. And did she have to appear now—right after he and I finally—

“Hey, focus!” Wonbin’s voice cut through your thoughts. “You’re gonna cut yourself.”

You blinked down at the board, realizing you’d nearly nicked your finger. “Oh, shit.”

“Why are you so distracted?” Wonbin teased, tossing a look toward the living room before grinning. “Relax. He’s yours. I’m sure of it.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Not with his ex clinging to him like that.”

“I don’t know… he’s heading this way,” Wonbin said, smirking. “So I think I’m right.”

Before you could respond, Anton appeared beside you. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes on your half-cut watermelon. He gently nudged you aside, his arm brushing yours as he took the knife from your hand.

“What do you think?” you said, pouting as you stepped aside but stayed close.

He sliced the fruit with ease. “I think you’re trying to get my attention. Getting hurt and all,” he replied, making your jaw drop. He laughed at your expression. “Aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t hurt,” you told him, rolling your eyes although your heart was fluttering at the sight of his smile. “And even if I did want your attention, I don’t need to hurt myself to get it.”

Anton nodded slightly. “You’re right. You don’t need to. That’s one of your many talents.”

You grabbed a paring knife, pretending to focus on the pears. “Sohee told me Claire was your ex.”

“She is,” he said simply. “Freshman year.”

You stopped the urge to roll your eyes, raising a brow instead. “So you did believe in love.”

“Just because I had girlfriends before doesn’t mean I believe in love.” 

“What nonsense,” you scoffed. “You know, people who claim they don’t believe in love are usually the worst hopeless romantics.”

“Whoever said that was lying,” he said, cutting another piece and slipping it between your lips, his fingers brushing your mouth lightly.

You chewed slowly, feeling a blush creep up your neck. Anton’s gaze lingered on your lips. Normally, you’d make fun of him for it, but after what happened in the car, you couldn’t bring yourself to tease him.

He cleared his throat, looking away and resuming his task. You glanced around, suddenly self-conscious, and grabbed a slice of watermelon just to do something with your hands.

“It’s very sweet. Try it,” you said, offering the slice to him.

Without looking, Anton leaned sideways to you and took a bite of the fruit. You instantly regretted that because now you were the one staring at his lips, recalling the vivid imagery of earlier’s kiss.

“Anton!” a voice called out from the living room, snapping you out of your imaginations. It was Claire and she didn’t have anything to say, just waving at Anton with a smile.

You glanced at Anton, who didn’t even bother to show a reaction, let alone respond. “Does it bother you that she’s here?” you asked, your voice softer now, more curious than playful.

He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“So you’re unbothered?”

“I’m unbothered.”

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “You know, people who say they’re unbothered tend to be... well, very bothered.”

Anton let out a small, resigned laugh, finally setting the knife down. His gaze softened as he turned to face you fully. “Again with your odd wisdom.” He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing but warm. “What’s next? People who claim to have allergies aren’t actually allergic?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” you shot back, laughing. “Allergies are backed by science. But being bothered when you’re in the same room as your ex? That’s a little harder to prove. Just like not believing in love.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he said, flicking your forehead, which made you grimace.

“Alright, no flirting in the kitchen,” said one of your friends, nudging you aside as she passed by carrying a steaming pot. “You two bring these to the patio.”

After the preparations, you moved to the backyard just as the evening settled into a cool, dusky warmth. The smell of barbecue was permeating in the air, rich and smoky. The large grill crackled and popped as steaks, skewers, and vegetables sizzled under Sohee’s watchful—albeit playful—eye. 

You sat at one of the long picnic tables on the patio, nursing a cold drink and watching the light from the grill flicker across the faces of your friends. Anton sat beside you, quietly observing the scene while Claire—who had rejoined the group—chatted animatedly with some others across the table. You were trying not to feel too aware of her presence, but it was impossible not to glance her way now and then.

“Hey, are you going to give me a hand, or are you just going to sit there looking cute?” Sohee called to you with a playful wink.

You snorted, setting your drink down and getting up. “You know, you can’t use that line for everything.”

Sohee shook his head, grinning widely. “It’s not a line. You just happen to look cute all the time. Now, get over here and help me with the skewers.”

Anton chuckled beside you, and you gave him a teasing glance as you headed toward the grill. “How about helping him in my stead?”

“I’ll pass,” Anton replied, grinning.

You pouted, feigning a tantrum as you walked away. Sohee handed you a plate of marinated vegetables to arrange into skewers. “So, how’s it going over there with Mr. Grumpy Sunshine?” Sohee asked in a low voice, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he leaned closer.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

Sohee nudged you with his elbow. “Oh, no, don’t play dumb with me, woman. I saw how you and Anton were looking at each other earlier. You’re practically making out with your eyes.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, you win. You are more invested in our relationship than I am.”

Sohee chuckled. “I’ve known the guy for ages. He’s not usually this present. Normally, he’s off in his own world, but now, it’s like he actually pays attention when you’re around.”

“Liar. He doesn’t even look at me if he can help it.”

“True, but that was before, no?” he said, giving you a knowing grin. “You two have gotten closer lately.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but were interrupted when Anton appeared at your side, casually grabbing one of the skewers you had just finished assembling. “Hey!” you exclaimed, laughing. “You’re supposed to cook them first.”

Anton raised an eyebrow, popping a piece of bell pepper into his mouth. “It’s good raw.”

Sohee gasped dramatically. “It’s what?”

Anton flicked his forehead, hard. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

You winced at the reddened spot on Sohee’s forehead, but the latter was just grinning at you and wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. You playfully swatted his arm with the back of your hand.

“So dirty-minded, go away,” you scolded, though you were grinning.

Anton smiled softly, and for a moment, the noise of the group around you faded. His gaze held yours, and you felt that familiar warmth spread through your chest again.

Sohee cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Okay, lovebirds, enough with the eyes! We’ve got mouths to feed.”

Soon, the platters piled high with grilled meats, skewers, and sides. The plates clinked as people passed around dishes, and conversations overlapped in the comfortable atmosphere of friends enjoying a good meal.

You found a spot next to Anton again, your plate full, though you were more focused on the way his knee brushed against yours under the table. Each little touch felt like a secret between the two of you, unnoticed by everyone else.

Prez pointed his fork at you and Anton, grinning. “You two are awfully close for two people who aren’t dating.”

You froze mid-bite, nearly choking as the table turned its attention toward you. Anton calmly sipped his drink, completely unfazed. “We’re just eating, Prez,” he said, but his hand landing gently on your thigh under the table contradicted his statement.

“Yeah, and sitting suspiciously close while doing it,” Sohee quipped, wiggling his eyebrows. You gave him a look that said, ‘You’re dead when I catch you.’

Thankfully, the subject shifted to talks about K-pop groups who performed in this year’s festival and the previous years, too. The evening carried on, full of laughter, good food, drunk anecdotes, and the soft glow of lanterns that lit up the patio as night fell.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this light, this content, as the warmth of the barbecue wrapped around you like a comfortable blanket, and the buzz of alcohol numbed the cold air hitting your skin.

“You alright?” Anton asked, placing a hand over your back while you were resting your head on the table.

Everyone had gone back inside, save for a few others who continued their drinking by the poolside. You and Anton were the only ones left at the table, mainly because you were too tired to move and he didn’t want to leave you there in case you fell asleep.

You sat up and stared at him. “My god, you’re so handsome. I could kiss you.”

Anton chuckled. “I think you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I never get drunk!” you snorted, staring at your index finger. “Actually, I do, sometimes… Anyway!” You took a deep breath and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Truth is, I think about kissing you even when I’m not drunk.”

“You do?” he asked, amused.

You stood up and stepped closer to him. He remained in his seat, looking up at you with soft eyes. You wobbled a bit, but Anton caught your arms firmly, keeping you steady. You held his face with your hands, squeezing his cheeks slightly. “Don’t dodge this, okay?”

“So, what happened?” Wonbin asked the very next morning after you told him about last night.

You exhaled through your nose, pouting. “Knowing him, he probably dodged it. I don’t know. I think I passed out before I could kiss him.”

Wonbin laughed, head lolling back and one hand hitting the steering wheel in great amusement. You shot him a glare and said, “Oh, so you think that’s funny, do you?”

He stopped, cleared his throat and muttered, “Sorry.” He fixed his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t hide his grin. “I shouldn’t judge other people’s drinking habits.”

You scowled, turning to the road ahead as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Remind me why I’m riding with you right now?”

“Because Anton and Sohee already left for the hike,” he replied, and that just made you scowl harder.

“Right,” you muttered. “Now I’m sure I made a fool of myself last night, because why would Anton leave without me?”

Prez had a hike planned for the day. This town was known for its clear river winding through the mountain, so everyone agreed to go when the subject was brought up last night. You were woken by Wonbin’s knocks on your door that morning, half-asleep and battling a splitting headache. Long story short, now you’re on your way to the hike with him.

By the time you reached the foot of the mountain, the others were already gathered for the guide’s briefing. Your eyes automatically searched for Anton and found him near the front beside Sohee and Claire. They looked like they’d been there for a while.

The guide called for attention, and as the group responded, Anton turned, scanning the crowd. His gaze stopped when it found yours. There was a flicker of surprise on his face, then recognition. He patted Sohee on the back, saying something to him before jogging toward you.

“There you are,” he said with a small smile. “I heard you weren’t coming.”

“From whom?” you asked. 

“Claire said she heard you mention skipping out. I figured you’d want to sleep in after last night.”

You pouted. “And you didn’t think to check with me?”

Anton shrugged. “Didn’t want to wake you. You seemed… pretty drunk last night.”

Heat rushed to your face as flashes of last night came back—your attempt to kiss him among them. The annoyance you were feeling suddenly dissipated. You groaned quietly, hiding your face with one hand.

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked, chuckling lightly as he ducked to peek at your face. “That’s new,” he teased, pushing your hair aside.

You elbowed him lightly. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, then took your bag and slung it over his shoulder without asking. “I’ll carry it,” he said simply.

“Wow, I think you’ve fallen in love with me,” you quipped, grinning playfully at him.

“No. I just don’t wanna hear you whining about how heavy this is halfway up the trail,” he said flatly, taking his hat off and placing it on your head.

The hike started out smoothly, with the morning sun filtering through the trees. Your group moved at a comfortable pace, chattering as you climbed higher toward the mountain’s scenic river. Claire, somehow always managing to walk beside Anton, led the conversation as if the rest of you weren’t there.

“Are you alright?” Wonbin asked quietly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. He flashed you a knowing smirk, catching the direction of your gaze.

“I’m fine. Just… taking in the view,” you replied quietly, pretending to look around.

“Bet you hate that view, huh?” Wonbin chuckled. “Save your energy. There’s still the climb up to the ridge,” he added, pointing ahead to a steeper incline.

You felt a light touch on your back—Anton’s hand, guiding you over a rock. You caught him giving Wonbin a look, which disappeared as soon as he met your gaze.

“Come on. Let’s catch up to Sohee,” he said, nudging you gently to the front.

As the group made its way up, the conversation turned to old hiking trips. Claire, of course, slipped right into it again, laughing as she talked about a time she and Anton had hiked a similar trail.

“Anton was such a show-off back then. He used to be so energetic and silly,” she said with a laugh, nudging him. “You remember that, right?”

Her voice carried a hint of nostalgia, but Anton barely reacted. He gave a polite nod, keeping his eyes on the trail ahead. “I was younger. Probably didn’t know better.”

Claire smiled at his response, but there was something about the way she looked at him, like she was waiting for him to say more. It twisted something in your chest.

“Yeah, when you’re younger, you make stupid decisions,” Sohee said loudly, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Totally get you, man. I’ve got one or two I’d erase if I could.”

You didn’t know the details, but you caught the insinuation, and it somehow comforted you a little to know that Sohee wasn’t fond of Anton’s ex.

After another fifteen minutes of steady climbing, you reached the ridge, overlooking the crystal-clear river that sparkled in the distance. Everyone took a breath, the beauty of the view silencing the group momentarily.

Some of the group gathered for a shot, while others wandered around. You stayed back, preferring to enjoy the quiet for once. You glanced at Anton beside you, who seemed quieter than usual, lost in his thoughts. You wondered if it was Claire getting to him, or if he was just being his typical reserved self.

The hike continued around the river, with a playful challenge thrown in along the way. One of the guys dared anyone to balance on two fallen logs that stretched across a small stream.

“Come on, who’s got the best balance?” he called out, clapping his hands together. “It’s a rite of passage for this hike!”

Prez raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll pass. I like my bones unbroken.”

The guy turned to you with a teasing grin. “How about you? You look like you’ve got decent balance.”

You smirked. “Oh, I’ve got more than decent balance.”

Sohee jumped in before you could step back. “Perfect. You and me, let’s go. Loser treats everyone to ice cream later.”

“Me against you?” You scoffed, taking off your jacket and tying it around your hips. “Fine. You asked for this. Don’t cry when you lose.”

You darted forward, arms out for balance. The log wobbled beneath your feet, but you found your rhythm quickly. Sohee was on the other log next to you, his footsteps thudding against the wood as he tried to catch up.

You were almost across when you caught sight of Anton a few feet away—with Claire. She was standing close, her hand resting on his arm as she told some story. You faltered, your focus slipping for a second.

Sohee jumped off the log just a second before you, throwing his arms up dramatically.

“And that’s a win for Sohee!” one of your companions announced, loud enough for the whole forest to hear. Cheers followed, and soon everyone was chanting, “Ice cream! Ice cream!”

You jumped off a moment later, breathless, still reeling from what you saw but forcing a smile for the crowd. “Fine. Ice cream’s on me,” you declared, feigning defeat.

The group erupted into cheers again and started back up the trail. You glanced at where Anton was only to find him already making his way toward you.

“Water?” he offered, holding out a bottle. “Don’t want to have to carry you all the way back.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was only trying to downplay his concern for you. “Thanks.” You took the bottle, appreciating the gesture but still feeling frustrated. 

“Did you really just lose to Sohee?” he asked, not mockingly, more like he genuinely couldn’t believe it. “That guy’s slow and has terrible balance.”

You scoffed just as you finished taking a sip. “Were you even watching?” you asked, unable to mask the displeasure in your tone.

Anton blinked, brows lifting slightly. “Honestly? No. I didn’t even know what was going on until everyone started cheering.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Wow,” you said under your breath.

“What?” he asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

“Nothing.” You forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, capped the tumbler, and started walking ahead.

He trailed behind, still trying to make sense of your sudden mood shift. You didn’t bother explaining. Why should you? He’d been busy entertaining Claire. Clearly, that was more interesting.

The rest of the hike went by in silence—at least between the two of you. You laughed when someone cracked a joke, helped pass water bottles around, anything to look normal. But Anton never left your side and your sight, and it only made it harder to ignore the tightness in your chest.

It was right on time for lunch. Sandwiches and juice boxes were passed around, the group scattering across the grass in small clusters. Anton sat beside you, peeling open the wrapper of a sandwich and holding it out. “Here.”

You glanced at it, then at him, before shaking your head. “I’m not hungry.”

Right on cue, Sohee plopped down in front of you and held up an identical sandwich. “You want one? I grabbed extras.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking it without hesitation.

Anton didn’t say anything, but you caught the faint crease between his brows. He offered a juice box, but you ignored it. When Wonbin joined your circle and offered you a juice box, you took it, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

You bit into your sandwich, pretending not to hear the sigh Anton let out beside you.

“Good, right?” Sohee said, unwrapping his own sandwich. “We passed by this small rustic cafe on our way here. That’s where we got these from.”

“Yeah, it’s good,” you replied, smiling faintly.

Anton tapped his juice box against yours. “Wanna trade? You like the grape one, right?” he asked.

Across from you, Wonbin was eating quietly. You held out your juice box. “Would you trade with me? I got apple. Yours looks like grape.”

“Sure,” he said, swapping drinks with a smile.

That’s when Sohee frowned slightly, glancing between you and Anton. “Are you guys fighting or something?”

Wonbin smacked his chest lightly. “Dude.” He gave him a pointed look. “Read the room.” Then he grabbed Sohee by the arm and dragged him toward the others.

You kept your eyes on your sandwich, pretending to be far too engrossed in unwrapping the rest of it. Anton didn’t say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you. You didn’t want to look long enough to see what expression he was wearing.

At some point after lunch, while everyone was lounging around or taking pictures of nature, Sohee managed to talk you into looking for wild berries. The guide mentioned there were plenty of them around, so it sounded like a harmless adventure. 

You walked with Sohee, Wonbin, and a few others, but Anton decided to sit this one out, mumbling something about someone (you) not wanting him there. That was fine because it gives you time to think things through without him hovering around.

You wandered deeper into the trees with a few others. Sohee was practically bouncing from one patch of greenery to the next, exclaiming every time he found a small cluster of berries.

“Look, these are the good ones! I told you I had an eye for this!” he boasted, holding up a handful of bright red berries.

“Okay, Berry Master,” you teased, bending down to pluck a few yourself. But as you reached for another low-hanging cluster, you misjudged your footing on a slippery rock. The moss-covered surface gave way under your shoe, and before you could catch yourself, you stumbled forward, scraping your hand against a sharp branch. A sharp sting shot through your palm, and you hissed in pain, clutching your hand.

“Are you alright?” Wonbin was quick to notice, walking over to check on you.

You waved him off with a sheepish smile, trying not to make a big deal of it. “Yeah, I just slipped on a rock. It’s not that bad.”

Sohee, always the dramatic one, rushed over too. “Whoa, are you bleeding? Should we get you back? Do we need a first aid kit? A stretcher?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “I’m fine. I just need to wash it off,” you said, inspecting the cut. It wasn’t deep, but a small trickle of blood appeared.

Wonbin offered you his handkerchief to wrap around your hand for now. “Here, it’s not good enough, but it should help until we get back.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling a bit more embarrassed than hurt.

You went back to the riverbank and the sight of Anton sitting alone by the water came into view. He was gazing at the stream, elbows on his knees, the sunlight flickering across his face. He looked so calm it annoyed you a little—like he hadn’t spent the whole morning confusing you.

When he saw you returning, his eyes immediately dropped to your hand, the makeshift bandage catching his attention. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you, his brows furrowed slightly.

“What happened?” he asked, concern etched across his face.

“Oh, I just slipped. It’s nothing, really. Just a scratch,” you said quickly, forcing a shrug even though your palm still stung.

Anton didn’t look convinced. Without asking, he took your hand, carefully peeling back the cloth to look at the cut. His touch was soft but firm, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he inspected the wound.

“You should clean this properly,” he said, his voice low, a hint of concern in his tone.

“I will, it’s just—” you started, but he was already pulling you toward the river’s edge.

He crouched down by the water, motioning for you to follow. “Come here, rinse it off.”

You knelt beside him, dipping your hand into the cool water. The sting intensified for a moment before the fresh stream washed the dirt and blood away, leaving the cut cleaner. As if on cue, the guide appeared with a small first-aid kit, handing it to Anton. He opened it without a word, cleaning the wound with a steady hand before pressing on a Band-Aid.

“There,” he murmured. “How’s that?”

“Better, thanks.” You glanced at your hand, grateful, but Anton’s next words caught you off guard.

“You said you don’t need to hurt yourself to get my attention?” he asked with an almost teasing glint in his eyes.

You blinked, torn between amusement and disbelief. “I didn’t do this on purpose! And you weren’t even there when it happened.”

Anton’s lips curved faintly. “You came back with a wound. That got my attention.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I didn’t ask for you to clean it up or worry about me.”

His brows furrowed. “You don’t want me to?” he asked gently.

“What—Well… I.. I do!” you stammered, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. “But if you’re just going to hold it against me, then no thanks. I can take care of myself.”

Anton huffed a laugh, though it lacked humor. “As if you need to. There are plenty of people who’d line up to do that for you.” He nodded subtly toward Wonbin, who was chatting animatedly with the others nearby. “Park Wonbin, for example.”

A spark of irritation shot through you. “God, I hope you’re saying that because you’re jealous.”

Anton’s scoff came out a little too loud, and he quickly cleared his throat. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Exactly,” you muttered, pushing yourself to your feet, frustrated. “You don’t like me enough to get jealous of other guys.”

He frowned. “I don’t?”

“No, you don’t,” you said, crossing your arms, looking anywhere but him.

Anton tilted his head, studying you. “Fine. Let’s hear it. What did I do?”

That made you glance back at him. “What?”

“You’re upset about something I did. What is it?”

You laughed dryly. “See? If you actually liked me enough, you’d know the answer to that.” You turned and started walking away.

Anton rose too, exhaling in defeat. “Come on, that’s not fair.”

You glanced back just long enough to stick your tongue out before turning away again.

He could only sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched you walk off. Despite the faint crease between his brows, a small, helpless smile tugged at his lips. “Let’s go back together later, okay?” he called after you, but you didn’t glance back.

Soon, your little respite by the river was over, and you were making your way back down to the foot of the mountain. Anton caught up to you at the parking lot, stepping in front of you before you could reach Wonbin’s car.

“Get in my car,” he said simply.

If someone ever asked what your toxic trait was, it’d be your inability to let go of a grudge. “Don’t tell me what to do,” you shot back.

“I’m not telling you what to do,” Anton replied, unbothered. “I’m asking you to come with me. Not with…” He glanced toward Wonbin, who was laughing at something Sohee said a few feet away. “…someone else.”

You scoffed, arms crossing instinctively. “Did you hear me complain when you came here with your ex instead of me?”

Anton fell quiet for a second longer than expected. You raised an eyebrow, making him chuckle.

“So that’s what this is about?” he asked, looking far too pleased with himself. It was infuriating how close you were to folding just because of that smile. 

“Come on,” he said, tone softening. “You don’t have to worry about her.”

“Oh, I’m not,” you denied quickly, huffing. “Why would I be worried? I’m a ten. Too hot to handle.”

Anton chuckled, stepping closer until his hand found your waist. “Don’t hang out with Sohee too much. You’re starting to sound like him.”

You froze as his thumb brushed your damp forehead, wiping away sweat like it was something he’d habitually done for you. You could still feel the warmth of his touch long after he pulled away.

“Come on,” he murmured, already walking toward his car. “Let’s go back.”

And just like that, you followed with your grudge still half-intact, and your heart nowhere near calm.

The ride back to the university had been a blur. Exhaustion from the hike caught up to you, so you were asleep most of the trip. You vaguely remembered the sound of Sohee’s singing and the muffled conversations between him and Anton that filled the car.

When you woke, the sun had dipped low in the sky. Your head rested against the window, and the scent of Anton’s hoodie filling your senses. Your heart raced at the idea that he had placed it over you himself.

The car was already pulling into the university parking lot, the journey back seemingly much shorter than expected—probably because you’d slept through most of it.

“Slept well?” Anton asked, glancing at you with a smile. You smiled back and nodded in response.

Sohee groaned dramatically in the backseat, stretching his arms. “Longest drive of my life.”

“You mean longest ride,” you sniggered, handing Anton his hoodie. “You weren’t the one driving.”

“Different lexicon, same meaning.”

Outside, the cool air met your skin. Anton came around with both your bags in hand. Sohee bade you a quick goodbye before running somewhere, something about a forgotten AirPod he needed to retrieve. You didn’t mind, as it gave you a chance to walk with Anton toward the dorms, together.

“I guess that’s the end of our little trip,” you said.

“Yeah,” he replied, glancing your way. “It was fun.”

You couldn’t recall every detail of the trip, but you knew you and Anton were closer now than before. You could still feel the warmth each time he attended to you, his concern, his subtle displays of jealousy, and although it had been a silly joke, the kiss that sent you reeling in bliss.

At the dorm entrance, he paused, turning to you with a small flicker of worry on his face. “How’s your hand?”

“This? Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” you said, showing him your hand. “You did a good job fixing me up.”

Anton’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but close enough. He still held your bag as you walked down the hall, and you didn’t bother asking for it back.

“So, what are you doing today?” you asked, just to fill the silence. 

He shrugged. “Assignment. Maybe game after.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s not.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “Need help?”

“Do you know how to code?”

“No, but I could hand you snacks while you work,” you offered.

He huffed out a small laugh. “No, thanks. I don’t eat and work at the same time.”

“Why not?” you asked, genuinely curious. “Don’t tell me you’re bad at multi-tasking?”

He shrugged. “I’m not. Food just makes it hard to concentrate on the more important task.”

You hummed. “Fair enough.”

You reached your door but didn’t open it right away. Letting him leave felt… anticlimactic. After everything that happened over the weekend, this sudden normalcy felt too unfinished.

“Do you wanna come in for a bit?” you asked, glancing at him. 

He blinked, a little surprised. “Why?”

“So we can hang out some more.” You flashed a smile. “You can get started on that assignment. And I can sit around and try my best not to distract you.”

He studied you for a second, like he knew exactly what you were doing but wasn’t going to call you out on it. Then he shrugged and said, “Sure.”

You opened the door and stepped inside, the cool air from your room greeting you as you flicked the lights on. Bed, desk, couch, a small fridge and just enough space for two people who probably shouldn’t be alone together, but are anyway.

“Make yourself at home,” you said, grabbing a couple of sodas from the mini-fridge. “Juice, water, soda?”

“Soda’s fine.” He sank into the couch, legs stretched out, watching as you handed him a can. The faint hiss when he opened it filled the quiet space.

He opened his laptop and began working, and you couldn’t help but take a minute to just… watch him. The subtle shift of his focus, the way his fingers moved over the keyboard—it was distracting in a way you weren’t expecting, and oddly attractive. You sat on the floor next to him, chips in hand, close enough that your shoulder brushed against his knee.

“Why are you down there?” he asked.

“Didn’t wanna get crumbs on the bed.”

“You could’ve just sat beside me.”

You shook your head. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love that, but I promised I’d be quiet, so… yeah.”

“That’d be a first,” he murmured.

For a while, the quiet felt nice—him typing, you scrolling on your phone and giggling at memes. You didn’t think you’d actually manage to keep your promise not to talk, but you did. Mostly.

“So,” you said after a while, “How did you like the trip?”

He shot you a quick glance over his laptop. “It was okay.”

“That’s it?” you asked, brows furrowing. “Just ‘okay’? Not fun? Relaxing? Boring? Total waste of time?”

He leaned back on the couch, taking a break from typing and flexing his fingers. “It was nice and fun. Except for the part where I had to take care of a clumsy girl who hurts herself looking for berries.”

“It was an accident!”

“What about the time you got drunk and tried to kiss me?” he teased.

You froze, searching for a comeback. “I was drunk, so technically that was an accident too.”

He laughed softly. “Liar. You think about kissing me even when you’re sober.”

You gasped, scandalized. “Excuse me?!”

“Your words not mine,” he said, shrugging. “You’re too honest for your own good.”

Oddly enough, the teasing glint in his eyes and the smirk on his lips were more endearing than annoying. “Didn’t think you can be annoying, but people has a way of surprising you, I guess,” you complained, though you didn’t really mean it.

Anton didn’t say anything, he just grinned and leaned back, studying you like he was waiting for something you weren’t saying. You were still pouting, glaring at his smiling face and trying hard not to fold.

“What are you looking at?” you asked when he continued to just stare at you.

He closed his laptop and placed it on the table. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap.

You didn’t even think about it. You just moved—one knee on the couch, your hand finding his shoulder as you settled onto his lap. His hand snaked around your waist, the other resting on your thigh like this closeness was something the two of you do on the daily and not at all out of the ordinary.

He stared at you for a while, that small smile still playing on his lips. All of a sudden, his attention seemed too much, making you shy to the point that you couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, so you looked away. Anton chuckled under his breath, making you glance back at him.

“What?” you snapped, trying your best not to sound nervous.

“Nothing,” he said, voice low. “You’re fidgety.”

“I’m not,” you denied, fidgeting even more. You looked down at your fingers on his chest. “Don’t you have an assignment to do?”

“How can I when you won’t stop talking?”

“I’ll leave you alone then,” you said, even though you hadn’t moved an inch away. 

You gasped when his arm around your waist tightened slightly. That just made him laugh again and say, “You didn’t strike me as someone who’d be nervous sitting on her crush’s lap.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Wow, you’re a vain one aren’t you?”

Anton tilted his head, puzzled. “Am I wrong? You do have a crush on me, though.”

You sighed, feigning defeat, with your shoulders sagging for added effect. “Fine. It’s my fault. I was the one who inflated your ego by following you around and showing you how much I like you.”

Anton’s laughter filled your ears again just before you felt his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb brushed along your jaw and your breath hitched in your throat. The teasing grin on his lips softened and that made your pulse race. 

Without a word, he pressed a quick kiss on your lips. Then another. And another. You fully expected a fourth one to come, but it didn’t. Instead, Anton looked into your eyes, intently, as if asking for something he already knew the answer to. 

You stayed still, your fingers curling in the fabric of his hoodie. And then Anton leaned in again, as if he was giving you a chance to stop him. You didn’t. You met him halfway, and the kiss landed softly. This time, it was longer, firmer, and definitely sweeter.

His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, tilting your head for the right angle. You arched into him, kissing him back with the same amount of fervor. When you opened your mouth, he responded immediately, a low, quiet sound escaping him as his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

You gasped when his teeth grazed your lower lip, the sensation sending a shock of warmth through your body. His arms tightened around you, holding you steady, as though he could sense how much you were melting into him.

You kept going until it wasn’t just a kiss anymore. It was something more, something primal, and hot—very hot. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him, and he obliged, his lips moving against yours with more urgency, more need.

When you pulled back to breathe, you just stared at him—wide-eyed, breathless, a little dazed. Anton’s smile was small but unmistakably content as his thumb traced the outline of your face.

“Wow,” you said before your brain could stop you. “That was so much better than the one in the car.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you realized a second too late what you’d just said. “I mean—uh, not that that one was bad! Just—this one’s… better.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and warm, before reaching for his laptop.You blinked, watching in disbelief as he balanced it on his knee, his other hand still resting casually at the small of your back.

He’s not seriously going back to his assignment, is he? you thought, jaw dropping a little. But apparently, he was.

You tried to slip off his lap, but he caught your leg before you could move far, holding you there without looking up from his screen. So you stayed—perched sideways on the armrest, your legs resting across his lap, your brain spiraling while he typed like nothing happened.

For the next hour, the room stayed quiet. He worked while you scrolled aimlessly on your phone, pretending you weren’t replaying the kiss over and over again in your head, wondering what it meant, what came next, and if he could hear how loud your heart still was.

In the days that followed, everything between you and Anton felt different. The teasing was still there, but now it came with proximity and tenderness. Before, it had always been you who initiated any kind of physical touch in public—holding his hand, a playful nudge, resting your head on his shoulder when you were tired. But now, it was him, too. 

Like the way he’d touch your arm when he walked by, or how he’d casually rest his hand on the back of your chair when you sat together. It was mostly just small simple gestures, but enough to send your heart doing cartwheels every time. Sure, he still maintained his aloof attitude, but his actions spoke louder than his words.

One afternoon, you were sitting together in a corner booth at a café with iced coffee, open laptops, and you pretending to study. Every so often, he’d glance up from his screen, meet your gaze, and flash you that rare, charming smile that made you melt just a little.

“You’ve been smiling a lot lately,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.

He didn’t look up. “I always smile.”

“No, you don’t. But lately, you’ve been smiling because of me.”

“You think too highly of yourself,” Anton said, eyes narrowed in amusement. “I smile for a lot of people.”

“Oh? Do you kiss a lot of people too?” you shot back, leaning forward and watching as a faint flush touched his ears.

He shook his head, still smiling but retreating behind his usual mask of aloofness. “That was a fluke. And I didn’t kiss you, you kissed me.”

You gasped dramatically. “You filthy little liar!”

He chuckled and shoved your half-empty cup toward you. “Finish it, or you’ll complain about all the ice melting away later.”

Over time, you learned that Anton wasn’t the type to outwardly fawn over anyone, but these little moments showed how much he paid attention. You wanted to impress him, so you drained your cup in one go, even though you were already full. He chuckled softly, giving you a look that said he saw right through you.

It wasn’t all just the proximity and teasing, though. You’d started noticing how you both went out of your way for each other. He’d grab an extra coffee to give to you on the way to your morning class. You saved him a strangely good cookie from lunch. He’d remind you of deadlines you pretended to forget. And you’d hang out at the IT library to keep him company when he’s working late on an assignment. All these gestures kept piling up.

“Is that a scrunchie?” you asked one time during a cafe run, eyeing the yellow lace scrunchie around his pulse.

“Hmh?” He glanced at his wrist. “Oh. Yeah, it’s a backup. You keep losing yours when we go out.”

“Aw. You’re so in love with me and I totally understand. I mean—” With flair, you flicked your hair out of your shoulder. “Just look at me.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned, taking the scrunchie from his wrist and handing it to you. “Fix your hair. I don’t want it in my pasta.”

You took it with a teasing grin. “Thanks. But you could have gotten those plain black hair ties though. That way, I wouldn’t feel too bad for losing them.”

“I thought it would look good on you,” he mumbled but you heard him just fine.

Out of habit, you would’ve teased him—asked if he’s falling for you. But the way he looked away with the tiniest hint of shyness, the red tint on his ears, and the slight furrow of his brows—everything added up. You didn’t have to ask. 

But you kept it playful because that’s what you knew how to do. “Are you falling in love with me, Anton Lee?” you teased one lazy afternoon, batting your eyes like it was a joke.

Anton scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an air of indifference. “I’m not falling in love with anyone,” he denied smoothly.

“Maybe not.” You tied the scrunchie into your hair with a grin. “But you definitely like me.”

Right on cue, the server came over—a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, the type who probably handed out unsolicited but warm advice with every dish. “You two look adorable together,” she said, beaming at both of you. “How long have you been dating?”

“We’re not dating,” you replied immediately, returning her smile. “It’s just me. I like him a lot, and he’s… well, he’s just putting up with my antics.” You scrunched your nose playfully, expecting her to laugh and move along.

Instead, she paused, head tilted. “Isn’t that what dating is?”

You stared after her, blinking. “Sorry?”

She didn’t say anything, and just laughed as she walked away with her tray.You turned to Anton, waiting for him to correct the misunderstanding like always. But he just stared back at you, lips quirking into an amused smile. 

This wasn’t the first time someone mistook you for a couple. You’d lost count of how many times people asked things like, “When did you start dating?” And every time, you laughed it off, always the first to deny it, brushing away the idea with a joke.

Not because you didn’t want it… God, you wanted it! But the thought of making Anton uncomfortable, of pushing something he hadn’t acknowledged? You didn’t want that.

Anton, meanwhile, never denied it. Never confirmed it either. He just kept floating over that maddening middle ground that kept you guessing.

After dinner, you walked back to campus with your arm wrapped tightly around his, humming a song you’d been obsessed with lately. Your head swayed with each step—carefree—until Anton suddenly slowed, then stopped.

“Why do you keep telling everyone we’re not dating?” he asked, making you glance up at him.

“Because we’re not?” you replied, brows knitting.

He scoffed, shaking his head as he resumed walking. “For someone who’s supposedly head over heels for me, you sure hate it when people think we’re a couple.”

“I don’t hate it. I actually like it!” you insisted, clinging tighter. “I’m denying it for your sake. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” he echoed, glancing at you again.

You hesitated, struggling to line up your thoughts. “I just… didn’t want to assume you were okay with it. I didn’t want to make things weird by pushing something you haven’t even said you wanted.”

“Why worry so much about what I feel when I’ve never made a big deal out of it?”

His tone was casual, almost indifferent, but the way he said it suggested something far more profound. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His actions and his words were confusing, and you didn’t want to make your own conclusions.

Anton let out a soft sigh, moving a step ahead of you, his hands slipping into his pockets as he walked on.

“Hey, wait up!” you called, jogging after him, completely missing the subtle, satisfied smile playing on his lips.

You were in your dorm room again. This had become routine—your little bubble. Some days you sat across from each other, other days you lay together on your bed, sharing peaceful silence. Tonight, Anton sat comfortably on the couch, legs crossed, leaning against the backrest. He looked relaxed as he talked about his plans for the future.

It was a very Anton sort of conversation. He had been so open about his future, talking about post-college job prospects and what he planned to do with his IT degree. You listened, thoroughly intrigued by how calm and composed he was about the life waiting beyond college.

“What about you?” he asked suddenly.

The question caught you off-guard. It shouldn’t have—given the direction of the conversation, it was inevitable that he’d ask about your future too. It hadn’t sunk in yet, but you’re a senior now, and you knew that you would soon be graduating. And you still had no idea where to begin with the career you wanted so badly.

“What do you wanna do?” he repeated, tilting his head in that way he did whenever he realized you were drifting.

And drifting you were. Your eyes had begun tracing the shape of his mouth without permission—the subtle movements of his lips with each word, the way they pressed together when he paused to think. At this point, it was a habit. You barely registered the question because you were too busy studying him.

“Hey?” he prompted again.

You blinked, your gaze snapping back to his eyes, but the words tumbled out before you could think. “I so badly want to kiss you right now. That’s what I wanna do.”

Anton sighed, like he was already used to you blurting impulsive things. You cackled. His non-reaction is only comical to you now.

You pushed yourself to your feet, still grinning. “Never mind, then.”

You turned to leave, but before you could even take a full step, a firm tug pulled you backward—and suddenly you were in his lap. You got a brief glimpse of him swiftly taking his glasses off and tossing them aside before his lips crashed into yours—all in a span of two seconds. 

You froze in delight, then kissed him back with just as much urgency. Before it could deepen though, he pulled away, hands clutching your shoulders.

“There. Happy?” he muttered, feigning indifference. But he wasn’t fooling you. Not even close.

You pouted, still breathless, reaching up to fix the slightly crooked collar of his shirt. “I don’t really wanna talk about careers right now.”

“Okay,” he said, shrugging. “Then let’s talk about us.”

“Us?” you echoed, trying to sound casual, though your pulse had quickened.

He nodded. There was a gentleness on his face that sent butterflies raging in your stomach. “Yeah. Us. Me, you, and what we want this relationship to be.”

The room felt still, his words hanging in the air between you. You couldn’t stop staring at him—at the softness in his dark eyes, the subtle parting of his lips like something else was on the tip of his tongue. Like he was teetering on the edge of a feeling he’d kept quiet for far too long.

Your heartbeat was loud, pounding against your ribs, drowning every thought except him. His closeness was intoxicating, and his lips so inviting. He was looking at you with an intensity that was making it hard to breathe. You stared back, and something, somehow, seemed to have snapped between you.

Anton grabbed your face and pressed his lips onto yours—softly, languidly, like he’d been deprived of it for so long that he wanted to savor every second of it. You kissed him back, closing your eyes. 

You could feel every touch. The way his hands slid up your back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The way his lips moved with a passion that seemed to match the pounding of your heart. It was overwhelming, how the heat was engulfing you from head to toe.

You pulled back for a moment, just enough to catch your breath, but your forehead stayed pressed against his. His breath was warm against your lips, and his eyes—half-lidded and dark with desire—locked onto yours. He didn’t say anything, but he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered right now.

“Kiss me like that again and I’m gonna take it as your confession of love,” you whispered.

Anton rolled his eyes—and kissed you again, just as intently.

You gasped when he pulled away. “Is that… is that your confession of love?”

“You can be a little dense sometimes,” he sighed.

Before you could react, his hand slid behind your neck again, guiding you into another kiss. This time, it was deeper, hungrier. His lips molded against yours, his grip on you tightening as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. You moaned softly into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the kiss as he tilted his head, changing the angle to kiss you even harder.

You felt dizzy, lightheaded—completely consumed by him. His lips, his touch, his scent—all of it was too much, yet not enough at the same time. You wanted more of him, more of this.

Your hips bucked forward, slamming onto his crotch where you found out that he too was being spurred further into the pit of desire. The contact made Anton grunt, nipping your lower lip and wrapping strong arms around your waist. 

Breathless, you pulled away, staring into his eyes and wondering if this was actually happening. Anton lifted you by your thighs and moved from the couch to the bed in a heartbeat. There, he carefully laid you down, running gentle fingers through your hair.

“Anton…” you whispered, unsure of what you were going to say, but needing to break the silence.

He pressed a thumb on your lip, shushing you softly before kissing you again. This time, he abandoned your lips too quickly, moving his kisses down to your jaw and up to your earlobe. The tickling sensation spread through your nerves, intensified by his hand slipping under your shirt to palm your breast. You moaned out, arching toward his touch—your quiet way of asking for more.

Anton’s lips left your ear, trailing to your neck down to your collarbone. His hands were busy with the buttons of your shirt, all while you were angling your neck to give him better access of your skin.

He pulled back once he was done with the buttons, marveling at the sight of your body, and letting out a sharp exhale before lifting the hem of his shirt and tossing it across the room.

“I can do a lot more without those,” he said, gesturing at your set of underwear.

While you were fiddling with the hook of your bra, Anton dived down to kiss your belly, sucking with an intensity that you knew would leave tiny bruises on your skin. He was moving upwards, grabbing a boob as he peppered his path with kisses and then taking his mouth to meet your nipple. As if by his design, he sucked your nipple and pressed his fingers on your sex at the same time.

The moan you let out was throaty, spurred on by the ministrations of his mouth and his fingers. He rubbed tentative circles on your cunt, trying to find your clit based on your reactions. When he did find it, your mouth parted open as you took a sharp intake of breath, and the confidence on Anton’s face made you want him even more than you already did.

“Oh, I see,” he grinned, licking a stripe on your neck. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?”

You bit your lower lip, trying not to lose your mind with just this. “Since when did you talk like thi—agh!”

“Shh, you’re distracting me,” he said after pushing a finger in your cunt that had you gasping. He watched you writhe underneath him, going absolutely insane with just a finger. When he pushed another one inside, you were close to crying, whimpering, and clenching around his fingers.

“Anton please…” you whined, forehead creased and lips downturned—desperate, needy. “Please.”

“Come on. Say it properly. I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me what it is.”

You threw your head back and sobbed before meeting his gaze again to say, “Fuck me, Anton. I need you to fuck me really really good.”

Anton groaned softly, clenching his jaw as he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. He shimmied out of his sweatpants and positioned himself between your legs, watching you with half-lidded eyes.

He licked his fingers and used them to palm his erection. Your breath hitched at the sight, chest heaving up and down as you waited patiently for him to do what he came to do. He lowered himself, placing his hands beside your head as he prodded your entrance with his cock.

“You sure about this?” Anton asked, caressing your face.

“Aren’t you?” you shot back, brows furrowing.

That made him chuckle. “You and your sharp tongue.”

He kissed you again, just as he pushed inside you with one messy stroke. The gasp you let out was guttural—one of surprise, pain, and pleasure, mostly pleasure. The nerves all over your body were rejoicing, feeling both relief and a delightful pain as your cunt stretched exquisitely.

“Damn, look at you,” he drawled, leaning lower to give your open mouth a sloppy kiss. “I didn’t know you could get any prettier. If I did, I would have done this a long time ago.”

“Move, Anton,” you managed to rasp out, not even trying to hide the desperation in your voice. “Please, move. Please, please, please, please!”

He did as you asked, moving languidly as he practiced the clench. That didn’t take long. In no time, he was rocking inside you over and over in a rhythm that made you lose your mind. You writhed and whimpered, urging Anton to keep going.

When it looked like you couldn’t take any more, he paused for a bit, squeezing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Then he lifted your leg over his shoulder and rammed deeply into you, grunting at how tightly you clung onto his manhood.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pausing to take a break. You reached to wipe the sweat forming on his forehead and saw the expression on his face—something between pained and delighted. “We’re not done yet,” he said, hovering over you and ravishing your neck before picking up where he left off.

You kept at it, moving in sync with each other, getting lost in a blur of passion and desire. Your mind was clouded, thinking about nothing except the building pleasure and satisfaction. You rose to meet his thrusts, clawing at his back, moaning and whining for more. And Anton was more than willing to give you what you want, driving himself further into you, kissing you wherever his mouth could reach. All while you desperately chased a high that was almost within reach.

“Oh, Anton,” you cried out, eyes rolling back just before the pulsating release engulfed you with euphoria.

“Damn it,” Anton murmured, his thrusts becoming sloppy and unsteady as he chased his own climax, driven further into a high by your fucked-out face.

Then you both laid there, breathless, staring at the ceiling with nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing to break the silence. You turned on your side, moving towards him and resting your head on his arm. His hands found a spot on your waist, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on your skin.

“Is this the part where I ask if I could be your boyfriend?” he asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

You giggled, nudging his shoulder. “We’re way past that now. But I’d still say yes, if it makes you feel better.”

He hesitated, eyes flicking briefly away. “But… I don’t believe in love. Is that okay?”

You rolled your eyes at him, not annoyed, just amused. “It’s okay.”

“It’s overrated,” he added, like it was a fact he’d researched.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned,” you xteased.

Anton shifted onto his side to face you properly, his eyes gleaming with affection and fondness. Those eyes were directed at you—a rare look he saved only for you. “I’m not good at this,” he admitted quietly. “And I don’t know what to call… us. But I know I can’t stand the idea of not being yours.”

Your heart flipped. You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s fine, Anton. If you want me like I want you, it doesn’t matter what we call it.”

“Okay, baby,” he murmured with a smile, fingers brushing your hair off your shoulder. His thumb traced along your neck, his expression changing into guilt. “I may or may not have left some…” he paused, “...marks.”

You jolted upright, smacking his chest. “Anton Lee!”

He just lay there smirking, propped up on an elbow, eyebrows doing a very irritating wiggle.

“The girls are gonna see that and know we had sex!”

He shrugged. “They’ll probably just say something like, ‘About damn time’.”

You glared half-heartedly. “You’re annoying.”

You hopped out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. Anton followed behind you, draping an arm around your shoulder and then kissing the side of your head.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” he said, chuckling lightly.

“No, do it again,” you said sheepishly, looking away. “Just… not where people can see it.”

You peeked at Anton’s face and saw him sporting a massive grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

From the start of your official relationship, things shifted dramatically. Anton was a completely different person from his usual aloof self. He was all over you—holding your hand, lying on your lap, hugging you from behind—anything as long as he was touching you.

Your dorm room remained the prime spot for these moments. He’d drape himself over you lazily, stealing kisses whenever you least expected it. The guy who once seemed indifferent now craved your touch like he was making up for lost time.

And in public, it was no different. Anton would always reach for you without looking because he knew you’d be there. He’d lace your fingers together, or rest a hand on your thigh like it was instinct.

It was so instinctive that one afternoon, he accidentally grabbed Sungchan instead—his palm settling on Sungchan’s knee while his eyes stayed glued to his phone. Sungchan, immediately recognizing his chance to mess with his friend, leaned his head on Anton’s shoulder, pretending to cuddle closer.

Still blissfully unaware, Anton absentmindedly reached up and cupped Sungchan's cheek, thumb stroking like a lovesick boyfriend.

“Man, I didn’t know you were this clingy,” Sungchan sighed, leaning in.

Anton blinked, his brain catching up, and when the realization hit, he let out a horrified gasp, yanking his hand so quickly like he’d been burned. “Sungchan, what the f—!” He scrambled across the couch as if distance would erase the moment.

Across the room, you were in stitches laughing with the rest of your friends, watching the whole thing unfold.

“Babe,” Anton called out to you, almost desperately as he fled toward you for safety. The sudden shift into an affectionate voice had everyone cringing.

“I could never get used to this,” Eunseok groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“I hate it when they call each other that,” Sohee added with a mock shiver. “Like, okay, you’re in love and I’m lonely. We get it.”

Anton ignored them, wrapping his arms around you like a child seeking comfort. “I missed you,” he mumbled dramatically into your shoulder, drawing another round of groans.

You tapped his forehead. “I was literally five steps away.”

“That’s five steps too far,” he countered, burying his face into the crook of your neck while everyone pretended to gag.

Moments like this had become normal now—Anton letting people see just how much he liked you, even if he still tried to cling to his “too cool to care” persona. It was adorable. 

Despite the teasing, you liked this new side of him. It felt good knowing Anton was willing to show both you and your friends a part of himself that not everyone got to see. Your relationship had leveled up, and it was evident not just in the way he acted but in the ease you felt together now

“Can we go back to when the only simp in this friend group was her?” Jill complained, pointing at you. “Anton’s giving me the creeps.”

Feigning offense, you planted your hands on your hips. “Wow, okay. Sue me for being drop-dead gorgeous and having a boyfriend who is, unfortunately for you all, obsessed with me.”

“Don’t listen to them, babe. Jealous friends are fake friends,” said Anton, covering your ears and kissing the side of your head.

Anton had a patience that made it easy to handle your boundless energy. When you’d burst into a room excited, full of chatter, he would always listen with a soft smile, never overwhelmed by your liveliness. He never tried nor needed to match it—he balanced it.

Anton knew how to take care of you, too. When your stress bubbled over, he’d pull you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head, whispering words of comfort so softly they barely broke the silence. You’d feel the stress melt away in those moments, reassured just by being close to him.

And you understood him just as well. You knew when he was getting tired, even when he tried to hide it behind his usual stoic demeanor. Like when he’d sit a little closer than usual or his fingers would linger on your arm. That’s when you’d instinctively dial it back, protect him in the way he protected you. You were attuned to his subtle cues, an understanding between the two of you that others rarely noticed.

“Remember when we were in that seminar, and you asked me if I liked you?” you had asked randomly one day.

Anton laughed, a soft sound that felt like a warm hug. “How could I forget? That was when I started falling for you.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes widening at his revelation. Anton rolled his eyes as if he regretted telling you that. “No, but seriously?”

“Yes. You were so confident then. You looked me in the eye and said exactly what you felt. I felt my heart skip a beat for the first time that day.”

“No way!” You swatted his chest, grinning. “So why pretend you didn’t care for so long?”

Anton scratched the back of his neck. “I might’ve enjoyed watching you chase me.”

You gasped, scandalized, and he only smirked. “What were you going to say that day, anyway?”

“Oh!” You sat up, remembering. “I was gonna ask if you were about to tell me to leave you alone before the professor walked in.”

He stared at you, then smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, no. I think you’ve figured out the answer.”

You giggled and climbed right back into his arms, looping yours around his torso and meeting his gaze. “I love you so much.”

“Love’s overrated,” he replied instantly, chuckling. Then, softer, forehead resting against yours, he added, “But love was worth a try with you.”

you don’t really remember much before the age of eight, except for one kid.

you were five when your parents took you camping to a forested site hours away from the city. a trip that was supposed to be ordinary, just a short weekend surrounded by pine trees and buzzing cicadas. the campsite had the smell of firewood and damp grass, and the lake glimmered under the summer sun. that was when you met a boy who changed everything, even if you wouldn’t remember it clearly for years.

he was around your age, with chubby cheeks and grass stains on his shorts. his hair stuck out in funny places like he had been rolling on the ground.

"hi," he shyly approached when he saw you standing by your parents' tent. "i like your shoes."

you blinked down at your pink sneakers, confused. "they got wet."

"that’s okay. mine are dirty."

he held out a rock with a shiny stripe in the middle. "this is for you. it looks like candy but it’s not. i found it by the river."

you nodded solemnly and took the rock like it was treasure. and from that moment, you were inseparable.

you ran around the campsite, chasing butterflies and pretending the trees were giant towers. you dug for pretend treasures, you played hide and seek, though you always gave away your hiding spot by giggling. you climbed the same stump over and over like it was a castle.

when your parents sat down by the fire to talk and laugh, the two of you built a tiny fort out of sticks and pretended it was a bakery. you made mud-pies and "soup" with leaves and pine needles, serving them to your parents.

on the second day, he grabbed your hand and tugged you toward the flower-dotted clearing near the edge of the forest.

"let’s play wedding," he said, eyes wide with excitement.

"what's a wedding?" you asked, blinking.

"it’s when you get married and be friends forever and eat cake."

you paused, then smiled. "okay, but i wanna wear a dress."

"you can pretend," he said, and gave you a little flower—a forget-me-not—clumsily plucked from the grass. he connected it and pushed it gently onto your pinky.

"this is your ring. it’s magic, so you gotta keep it safe."

you held it up like it was made of diamonds. "now we’re married?"

he nodded seriously. "yes, i’m the prince and you're the princess."

he picked up a stick from the ground, not too long, with a bend at the end and held it up like a wand. "we're married now," he declared, puffing out his chest. "the spell is complete!"

"what kind of spell?" you asked, eyes wide.

"a forever spell," he said, matter-of-factly. "so we can be best friends and play every day."

he tapped your shoulder with the stick like he was knighting you. you giggled and grabbed a twig of your own, mimicking his movements.

"and now i crown you king of mud pies," you said.

he burst out laughing. "then you're the queen of tree forts!"

you both laughed so hard you ended up collapsing into the grass, side by side, staring up at the patches of blue sky peeking through the branches. a dragon-shaped cloud drifted by, and you pointed at it at the same time.

"jinx!" he yelled.

and then you raced to see who could reach the stump first, already forgetting who won last time.

that night, you sat beside him by the campfire. he gave you the last marshmallow.

but by the third morning, his family had packed up early. you remember waking to find their tent gone, only an empty space left behind. no goodbye. just the smell of burnt logs and the forget-me-not still tucked under your pillow.

after that you never asked your parents about him. not once. you only mentioned the campsite again when you turned eight, asking if you’d ever go back there someday. but when a new campsite opened closer to the town, just minutes away, your dad chose that instead. you never returned to that faraway forest again. you even forgot what it looked like, or what it was called.

life went on.

sixteen years passed. you were now in your third year of university. childhood felt like another lifetime, buried beneath the noise of lectures, parties, and leaving your hometown behind. you weren’t sure whether to visit your parents this summer, especially with friends inviting you on a beach trip. but in the end, something pulled you back.

it had been a year since you last saw your family, so you booked the trip home.

and that one decision , that small, almost random choice would change your life more than you could ever imagine.

the cab slowed at the familiar street. your parents' house stood there just as you remembered: a cozy craftsman-style bungalow painted in a warm, earthy yellow, with white trimming that caught the sunlight. it wasn’t grand, but it had the kind of comfort that hugged you before you even stepped inside.

you reached for the neatly folded cash, handed it to the driver, then stepped out with your single luggage and backpack in tow.

climbing the porch stairs, you opened the door slowly and peeked around the living room. there, by the kitchen counter, were your parents, sipping coffee and talking.

"i’m home!" you called out, voice rising with excitement.

your mom turned first, eyes lighting up as she put down her mug. "wen, sweetheart!"

your dad stood, grinning, as both of them pulled you into a hug. your mom cradling your face and your dad giving your back a pat so strong it knocked a laugh out of you.

"we didn’t think you’d come home this summer," your mom beamed. "we missed you."

"i missed you too," you said, pouting a little as your dad took your backpack and wheeled your luggage upstairs.

"come on now," your mom said, already walking back to the kitchen. "you’re just in time. we made breakfast."

you followed her, the scent of eggs and toast filling your nose, the warm kitchen light casting a soft glow over the countertops. you began to talk. about classes, your professors, the annoying group project that never ended, but somewhere in the back of your mind, the memory of that boy hung around.

soon enough, you and your parents had gathered around a peaceful dinner table. the clink of utensils and warm scent of seasoned steak filled the space as laughter passed easily between you and your dad, your conversations ranged from random stories to summer vacation plans.

"how about another camping trip?" your dad suggested, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of steak.

you shrugged at first, nonchalant. but then a vague memory stirred—of trees towering above your five-year-old self, of pine needles on your shoes, and a quiet little boy who'd once been your entire world in two short days.

"in that old campsite?" you looked up from your plate, browa lifted.

your dad shook his head, eyes still on the steak he was slicing. "nope. i meant the usual site, just a few minutes away."

you pouted a little without realizing, pushing peas to one side of your plate, then corns to the other. your parents exchanged quick, knowing glances.

"why?" your mom asked with a playful smirk. "do you want to go back there?"

you narrowed your eyes at her. "no, i'm just curious. we only went once."

"you know," your dad said, a grin tugging at his lips, "when we first and last went to that campsite, you were five. this small." he gestured with both hands beside him, chuckling. "there was this boy your age. he was the son of the couple in the tent next to ours. you two were like two peas in a pod!"

"oh, you even played weddings!" your mom added with a laugh, leaning back in her chair and dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

you listened, smiling as the memories slowly began piecing themselves together— images of flower crowns, tiny feet running across crunchy leaves, and a shy boy with black clothes and quiet voice.

"really?" you asked, leaning forward with interest.

"really," your dad nodded. "and the boy even gave you—what's it called again?"

"myosotis," your mom answered. "forget-me-nots. he put one on your finger like a ring."

you couldn't help the small laugh that left your lips. "that's actually kind of sweet."

just as you were about to say more, your mom's face lit up as something clicked in her head. she stood up with a sudden spark of excitement. "oh! we figured you'd eventually ask about it when you got older, so…"

she walked over to the living room and opened one of the cabinets near the back. you turned slightly in your chair, watching her rummage through the rear shelves until she pulled out a small wooden box. she brought it back and placed it gently on the table.

"we had one flower preserved in resin," she said, flipping open the lid.

inside was a silver ring. at the center was a smooth resin dome, and nestled perfectly inside was a single blue forget-me-not.

your eyes widened as she placed it into your palm. "thank you!" you grinned, slipping the ring onto your finger. it was adjustable, and it fit just right.

you held your hand up, admiring the little flower frozen in time. "this is really pretty."

"told you," your mom said, giving your dad a nod as they both watched your reaction.

as you closed the box and placed it beside your plate, you suddenly remembered what you meant to ask earlier.

"by the way… what was the name of that campsite?"

"camp windlow," your dad replied.

you hesitated, then asked, "mind if i spend a day there?"

they both nodded without hesitation.

"go on," your mom said. "just don't forget to come home and spend the rest of summer with us."

you smiled, feeling the ring on your finger—light, and comfortable. "i won't."

the next morning, you got up early, only to find your father already awake in the kitchen, sipping coffee and flipping through the newspaper. you had planned on taking a cab, but the moment he spotted your packed bag, he stood from his seat with a familiar look that said "you're not wasting money when i have a perfectly working car."

so instead, you found yourself in the passenger seat with one large bag, a singular tent, a portable table, and just enough food for a night. your dad drove you through the winding, tree-lined roads until you reached the trail entrance. he pulled over by the wooden gate and waved you off with a smile as you stepped out.

"call me if anything," he said as you nodded. waving before driving away.

you turned toward the gate. it stood quietly in the midst of trees, like a threshold between now and then. off to the side, an old but well-maintained wooden sign read: camp windlow trail

you noticed a bus parked nearby, likely for a group of students already at the site. you gave it a passing glance before starting up the trail. it was a short hike. just a few minutes, and then you saw it another wooden sign greeted you at the clearing, nailed to a tree: welcome to camp windlow

the space opened up into a cozy camp ground, surrounded by cabins and a cluster of trees. off to the side near the entrance was an old camper van with a sign hanging beneath a shaded awning: camp host.

you made your way to the rv’s side window. the soft crunch of leaves beneath your shoes was the only sound. you tapped the small bell on the built-in counter and tiptoed to peek through the screen, but the space inside looked empty.

just as you were about to turn around, you caught movement in your peripheral. a tall guy near one of the cabins—mid-conversation with a student—looked in your direction. he said something to the student, nodded, then jogged toward you.

"good afternoon, miss. welcome to camp windlow," he greeted with a small nod.

his dark, tousled hair fell over his forehead, framing gentle features. his eyes had that warm, sleepy crescent shape when he smiled. he wore a loose, off-white baseball jersey with thin black pinstripes, and beneath it, the collar of a black shirt peeked out.

"hi, uh—yes. are you the camp host?" you asked.

"yes, miss. sorry i wasn’t at the station. some students needed help with their cabins. i’m the only volunteer on duty today," he said, voice soft and low like it could disappear if you weren’t listening close enough.

you gave a small nod. you had more to ask, but decided to keep it simple. "i just wanted to check where i can set my tent up. i’m not renting a cabin."

"got it," he said, then gestured ahead for you to follow. "come on, i’ll show you the tent area."

you followed him past the cabins, toward a grassy clearing beneath tall trees. the space was flat and quiet, the sunlight filtering through the canopy tree above. you could see the river nearby, shimmering under the noon, and a small wooden shed sat near its edge.

"you can pitch your tent here. it’s a good spot. but let me know if you’d prefer somewhere else," he offered, pausing to look back at you.

"no, actually this is great already," you said, giving a casual wave of your hand.

"cool," he smiled, continuing. "there’s a water pump near the cabins if you need it. just a heads up—no wandering after nine."

you nodded, noting the direction he pointed in.

"thank you," you said.

"how many days will you be camping?" he asked.

"just a day."

"alright. i’ll log you in real quick so i know you’re out here," he said, turning toward the rv. then he paused, glancing back. "oh- and your full name?"

"wendelin hale." you replied.

he blinked, as if a bulb went off in his head before nodding, jogging back toward the camper van.

you dropped your bag down and took a breath, turning to look at the view of the river. it was quiet and beautiful. familiar in some way. you looked around, piecing together scattered memories, smiling to yourself in recognition. this might’ve been the exact spot where your parents had pitched the tent years ago. across from it was probably where the boy’s family stayed. and in that nearby park space where the two of you had played wedding.

you chuckled softly and wandered closer, tapping your hand against the trees as you passed, letting your fingers graze the bark like an old habit.

when you turned back toward your spot, you caught the camp host looking up from the logbook through the rv’s side window. he glanced at you. you smiled politely, and he returned it before lowering his gaze back to the page.

he looked out toward the area you’d just visited, staring for a moment with a knowing smile. then, he went back to work.

you unzipped your bag and pulled out the tent, sighing as you knelt by it. it had been years, and you barely remembered how to set it up. you fiddled with the poles and fabric, trying to recall the steps, but it quickly turned into a mess.

from the rv, the man noticed you struggle. he stepped out and jogged over.

"need help with that?" he asked.

you gave him an embarrassed smile and nodded. "yes please."

he smiled back and knelt beside the tangled tent, hands moving skillfully.

"i'm guessing this is your first time camping alone?" he said as he worked, not looking up.

"yeah, just a day of trip down memory lane," you replied, watching him work, trying to learn.

"places like this can really hold onto the kind of memories you want to relive," he said, echoing your thoughts.

"deep talk," you said with a faint smile.

before you knew it, the tent was standing, sleek and sturdy, a perfect black triangle in front of you.

"well, i could say i’m also here for a memory lane trip," he said, standing and dusting off his trousers. "there you go."

you nodded, impressed. "thank you."

"of course. miss hale, right?"

"yes," you replied, smiling. "but no need for formalities."

"just trying to stay professional."

"okay... sir—?"

"lee," he said. "anton lee."

"alright, sir lee," you chuckled.

anton smiled at that, then looked at you more closely. "you seem socially entertaining for someone camping solo."

you shrugged as you started setting up your small foldable table. "not really. i just prefer solo trips like this so i can unwind peacefully."

"fair," anton said, nodding. he stepped closer and unzipped the tent door, folding it up neatly to keep it open. "want help with the rest?"

"yes, thank you."

he helped you with your things in silence, arranging everything carefully. after a moment, you spoke again.

"you mentioned you’re here just for a quick nostalgia trip?"

"yeah, well… i figured i could also volunteer for the summer. extra credits for uni, you know," anton replied.

"oh, so you’re a student?"

"yup. just like those people over there." he nodded toward the cabins where students were busy setting up for camp. "and you?"

"i’m in uni too," you said.

"cool! just around here?" he asked as you both kept working on your setup.

"not exactly. my hometown’s a small town somewhere around here in oregon, but i study in portland. five hours away."

"you sound pretty established," anton smiled.

"not really," you shrugged, standing once you were finished setting up, noticing anton was done too. "still stuck here in the same state."

"hey, at least it’s something," anton said as he walked toward the riverside. you followed him, and together you sat in the open wooden shed.

"so, what about you?" you asked.

"really complicated," anton chuckled. "my hometown’s all the way in new jersey."

"that’s basically a plane ride away," you gasped. "how’d you end up here?"

"like i said, complicated. i just got back here after many years. i also decided to study around portland."

"and you volunteered as a camp host here." you laughed.

"obviously," anton nodded. "you know, you kind of seem familiar."

you looked at him, that same strange feeling rising inside you too. "yeah, you do too."

"what’s your name again? wendelin?"

"mhm, why?"

"nothing, just… i used to know someone with a similar name. well, not exactly the same, but she's called wen."

"that could be wendy or something else. wen’s a common nickname."

"i know."

"so, you think i seem familiar just because of my name?"

"maybe?" anton shrugged.

"well, you seem familiar too, somehow," you said, watching him, waiting to see if he wanted you to explain. "the first time i came here, i was about five," you started. "i had a friend, but i don’t remember his name."

"was it a girl?" anton asked.

"no, no." you shook your head, smiling at the memory. "we used to play a lot around here. we even played wedding. it’s cute but also kind of embarrassing. my parents teased me for it."

you looked down at your hand, twisting the ring on your finger.

anton noticed. "he gave me a forget-me-not flower ring. my mom even had it preserved in resin," you explained, showing it to him.

"eerie. i remember having the same memory," he said. "same place, same story. that’s why i came back here, to volunteer this summer."

"if i didn’t know your name, i’d swear that boy was you," you chuckled. "but i don’t think i ever heard the name anton back then."

"i get that," he smiled. after a pause, anton looked at you with a spark in his eyes.

"is it chanyoung?"

and as if remembering a song you've been searching for your entire life, it clicked in your head.

"chanyoung-ah, come here! it's time to eat!"

her mom's voice echoed in your memory. you could see him—five years old, turning to wave at you. his small feet kicked up dust as he jogged across the field to his mother’s table, where bowls of food are laid.

"come!" his mom then called out to you, her warm smile beaming under the shade of the pine trees. "wen? do you want to come over and eat with chanyoung?"

you’d nodded excitedly, cradling the bowl of leaf soup in both hands as you placed it carefully down by the tree where you’d been playing, then ran toward them with light steps.

you stared out at the river, its surface glinting under the sun. you smiled to yourself. a wide, happy, almost disbelieving smile, as your eyes visibly brightened up in recognition.

"chanyoung!" you beamed at him as he did too, his eyes crinkling with that same lighthearted smile. "since when were you anton?"

anton let out a chuckle, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that made your heart slightly jump. he glanced at you briefly before turning his gaze back toward the river ahead, hands resting loosely in his pockets.

"well, when we settled here in the u.s., i had to go for an english name. so, i pretty much went by my english name my entire life outside our house."

"i would've... never remembered." your voice came out quiet.

"that's on me," he replied with a smile. "it's nice to meet you again, wen. i kind of had a hunch when you started wandering off to specific spots here earlier."

you smiled to yourself, looking down shyly, hiding the stupid grin spreading across your face. you swung your feet a little from your seat, your heels lightly tapping the wooden platform beneath.

"so, that’s why you looked familiar. you still kinda look the same as when we were kids," you said, grinning up at him.

"well, you changed. your hair used to be some kind of lighter blonde and now you’re brunette," he pointed out. "but your eyes are still the same pretty shade of hazel."

"you remember that?" you turned to him, surprised, trying to keep your tone from sounding too delighted.

"of course." anton sighed before hopping off the seat. "you wanna walk around?"

you hummed and then nodded, hopping off your seat too. leaves crunched beneath your shoes as the two of you wandered off, the camp fading behind you as you stepped deeper into the quieter parts of the grounds.

you and anton walked around the wide area, the soft rustle of wind through tall grass and tree branches filling the silence between your conversations. every step brought you to an old spot. you even unlocked more memory you've completely forgotten. thanks to anton, who seemingly had remembered everything.

"that’s where you scratched your knee," anton said, pointing toward the root of a large tree, half-exposed in the dirt. "you tripped there. i thought you were gonna cry but you laughed."

you furrowed your brows for a moment, but then a smile bloomed across your face. the picture came back to you—your five-year-old self giggling with a scraped knee and grass in your hair.

"wow, you remembered again?"

"of course," anton nodded, walking beside you, relaxed. "i considered you as someone important in my life. you were also my first friend back then. i never really interacted with anyone as a kid, but you didn't scare me, and i found a friend in you."

your heart warmed at anton’s words. you looked down for a moment, suddenly feeling a little guilty. not for forgetting completely, but for remembering less than he did.

"i’m sorry i couldn't remember a lot," you said.

"don’t be sorry for anything." he waved his hands dismissively, his voice light. "if anything, i should be sorry for suddenly leaving."

you turned your head slightly toward him, curious.

"we were five and things happen," he continued. "the babysitter of my younger brother who's a baby that time called my parents that day, saying he got sick and was hospitalized. so we had to go back home earlier than we planned to."

"that’s okay. i understand." you paused, then looked up at him with a smile that tried to push away the lingering guilt. "well, at least we’re here now again, right?"

anton looked at you with soft eyes, his expression calm before nodding.

"i hope i don't come off as weird but—" anton paused, stopping beside the path. his voice dropped to a murmur. "i feel... unexplainably comforted. happy, even. you're the reason i came back here."

you looked at him closely, eyes searching. his gaze never left yours.

"why?" you asked. "is it really that important to you?"

you waited for an answer, but instead, anton simply exhaled softly through his nose and offered a lopsided smile. "it's almost sunset," he said, glancing toward the golden sky. "you shouldn't miss the view from your spot." then, without another word, he turned and walked back toward the main site.

that evening, the two of you sat on the log seat beside the crackling campfire. a few snacks between you, and hours spent sharing stories from your shared childhood. you told each other what life had become. he shared that he'd taken up swimming in university, dabbled in instruments, and, at his core, remained the same introverted boy you remembered.

anton didn't seem surprised when you told him you'd become an art major and that you had a decent circle of friends.

"i always knew you'd be an artist. you used to draw cool things for me, remember?" he paused, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "i still have them, actually. my parents kept a box of my things. your drawings are in there."

as the night wore on, you realized how naturally your bond had rekindled. anton had always been interesting and it became clear that the years hadn't eroded what once connected you. you both laughed, talked, and forgot about the time.

you looked at him with guilt simmering behind your words. "i hope you don't think i saw you as someone unimportant."

anton smiled gently, reaching out to pat your shoulder. "i never did. because if you did think of me as someone unremarkable in your life, you wouldn’t have bothered coming back here..." he then nodded toward your hand. "...or wearing that flower ring again."

"and..." he spoke again, but then hesitated, as if something weighed on his chest. "and it's getting late," he said instead, standing up. "i should head back to the van."

you didn't push as you just nodded. "do you want to exchange contacts?" you offered, standing up as well.

"that'd be nice," he said, pulling out his phone. you exchanged numbers, and the night passe from there.

in the morning, you got up early. students were already busy around the campsite as you sipped on a warm coffee. you looked over at the van and saw anton setting up his things. you smiled at each other.

"good morning!" you called out.

"good morning," he called back. but you didn't hear him. you only saw the shape of the words on his lips. you smiled anyway and went on with your day.

anton went to his daily morning work, while you joined a group for exercise. later, you packed everything up. new clothes on, your tent dismantled and tucked back into your tent bag. it was time to leave.

anton approached, his morning work done. "leaving already, i guess?"

"yeah," you smiled tight-lipped, slightly disappointed. "told my parents i'd only be out for a day. my dad's picking me up too."

anton nodded in understanding. "i already have your number, so i don't think there's anything to be sad about."

he helped with your bags until your phone buzzed with a notification from your dad—he was near.

"i should get going," you said, sliding your phone into your jeans pocket.

"i'll walk you down," anton offered.

he lifted your tent bag and your folded table while you carried your own backpack. the walk down the trail was peaceful, though the thought of saying goodbye made your chest feel heavy.

by the roadside, anton carefully set down your things in front of you.

"let's keep in touch," you said.

"sounds nice," he replied. a second of silence followed. then, he spoke again.

"and—it is. it is that important to me because you promised me, and i held onto that."

you blinked, confused, watching as anton smile.

"you've forgotten," he said. "but the evening before the morning we left, you told me something by the riverside."

he looked down briefly, then up at you again.

"you promised that you'd see me again. that we'd be friends forever—because we're married."

anton laughed a little.

"and... i'm happy you didn't break it even though you forgot about it."

the memory then struck you like a spark to dry wood. your small pinky held out to his.

"when we get home, i’ll see you again no matter what. because if we’re married, we’ll forever be friends."

the memory clicked into place like the last puzzle piece in a long-lost picture.

"i remember now," you said. smiling warmly back at anton.

then, a white car approached from the distance, pulling up just then. your dad rolled the window down, eyes landing on the two of you with a knowing, content smile as if he had seen this coming.

"did i make you wait?" he asked.

"just in time," you replied, opening the backseat door as anton helped load your things.

you then turned to him once more.

"i won't say goodbye."

"yeah. i won't, too," he said with a small smile. then, anton pulled you into a warm hug before letting go.

you opened the front seat door and got in. just before it closed, anton stepped forward.

"wen," he said, as you looked at him through the open window.

Maya’s been your roommate since freshman year—assigned totally at random and somehow it just worked. You weren’t expecting much but she showed up with a full-size speaker, a neon pink kettle and two coffee mugs.

She's funny, stylish and has been the kind of friend who knows when you need to be told to get it together and when you need someone to bring you overpriced sushi and sit with you in silence. Three years later you still share the same room, same favorite mugs, same playlists on loop. She's become a second home.

Your first home however has always been Anton, your childhood best friend.

You met him when you were nine in the middle of an English immersion summer camp neither of you really wanted to be at. He sat next to you during arts and crafts and told you your macaroni picture frame was ugly and then gave you the glue stick you were missing. Somehow, that was the beginning.

From that point on the two of you did everything together. Swim lessons, school projects, awkward middle school dances where both of you swore you’d rather die than slow dance with anyone else. Every summer in high school the two of you found a job be it ice cream stands, lifeguarding, even one cursed summer as camp counselors. It was a tradition, one that lasted longer than either of you expected.

Now, you’re both rising seniors in college and time’s harder to come by. If he’s not busy with swim practice then it’s late-night labs or RA responsibilities but even with the time limitations, some things haven’t changed.

You still show up to all of his swim meets sitting in the same spot cheering loud enough for him to hear underwater. Still make time to grab boba every Friday night as a trio and occasionally make time for off campus frat parties where he watches over you and Maya like a hawk.

“You still haven’t packed your toiletries,” Maya points out, tossing a pair of your sneakers into a box without bothering to make sure they’re even the same pair.

“I like to keep my skincare in reach,” you say, which is mostly true. You just don’t want to admit you haven’t figured out how to pack twelve steps of face wash and serums into one Ziploc bag.

“You’re not going off-grid,” she replies. “You’re going home.”

“Same thing.”

Maya gives you a look but doesn’t say anything before standing and stretches, glancing at the mess around the room. “This better be mostly done by tonight because I am not helping you do a 2 a.m panic pack.” She warns, heading toward her desk.

You snort, “babes, you and I both know that’s not true.”

Maya tries her best to hide her smile but can’t and rolls her eyes before opening her laptop. “Screw off,” she mutters, pulling up a stats lecture she’s already watched twice today. There’s a knock at the door before you can respond.

Maya looks up brows raised. “You expecting someone?” You shake your head and cross the room, tugging the door open without thinking.

Anton stands on the other side, holding a tray containing three drinks in one hand and a roll of industrial-sized trash bags in the other.

“Hi,” he says like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like he’s not supposed to be studying for his neurobiology final. Like showing up at your door with Dunkin’s and a stack of trash bags is a normal Tuesday thing.

You blink. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

“Figured you’d be knee-deep in panic packing, I brought reinforcements.” He says, surveying the room.

You say nothing and step aside to let him in. He moves past you and enters the room like he’s done a hundred times before and sets the drinks down on your desk.

“Mango pineapple lemonade refresher,” he says, sliding yours toward you. Then, to Maya, “Strawberry matcha, extra ice, no sweetener.”

Maya happily takes the drink and thanks him before turning back to her laptop. Anton gestures to the room. “Alright. Where do you want me?”

“You have an exam,” you remind him.

“Yeah and I’ll pass,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing then adds, “and you’ll forget your toothbrush if I don’t help so really I’m doing us both a favor.”

Maya snorts. “He’s not wrong.”

You sigh, reaching for your drink. “Fine. You can stay but only if you promise not to judge how I pack.”

Anton’s already taping a box shut. “No promises.”

You sip your drink as Anton settles on the floor beside your pile of clothes, legs stretched out casually peeling tape from the roll like he’s the one moving out. You glance at Maya who’s still half-focused on her laptop and say, “I’m gonna miss you.”

She doesn’t look up. “Okay, drama queen.”

“I’m serious, you’re ditching us. Going all the way to Japan while we rot in Jersey.” You pout.

That gets her attention. She sighs and finally looks at you just in time for you to toss your weighted dino Antoinette, a birthday gift from Anton right at her head.

She catches it with both hands and clutches it to her chest. “You’re right. I don’t love you. Only Antoinette.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “Shut up.”

“FaceTime exists, you’re gonna call me every day. We’ll groupwatch trashy TV and complain like always.”  She says, petting the dino like it’s a cat.

“Promise?”

She smirks. “Only if you don’t cry during move out.”

You flip her off and she grins, setting Antoinette on her lap before turning her attention back to her screen. “So what are you two doing this summer anyway? Internships? Summer classes? Something productive?”

You shrug. “I don’t have plans. Probably just sleep, eat and annoy Anton.”

Anton hums without looking up from the hoodie he’s folding. “Confirmed.”

You glance at him. “What about you Ton?”

He shrugs. “Nothing locked in but I saw the old country club near my house is hiring again.”

You sit up straighter. “Wait—the one from freshman year?”

Anton glances up at you, smiling. “Yep. Same one.”

Maya looks between the two of you. “You guys worked at a country club?”

You grin. “It was our first summer job. We were like…fourteen? Mostly did poolside snacks and towel returns.”

Anton nods. “And there was the golf cart incident.” Maya raises a brow.

“She stole one of the golf carts and crashed it,” he says, gesturing at you.

You gasp. “That is not how it happened.”

He grins. “It absolutely is and I took the blame.”

You shake your head, laughing. “First of all, he’s being dramatic. Second of all, he got off with a warning. He’s making it sound worse than it was.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of the people,” Anton says, sipping his drink.

You roll your eyes. “They let you off because of your dad.”

“More like because of my amazing personality,” he says proudly.

“Privilege,” you correct.

“Semantics.”

You shake your head, still laughing as you reach for another hoodie to fold. Maya’s grinning behind her laptop clearly entertained. Then Anton casually says, “We should apply again.”

You pause mid-fold. “To the country club?”

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. “One last job. For old times’ sake.”

You glance at him and raise your brows. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Anton nods. “Why not? It’s close to home, the pay wasn’t terrible and we already know half the staff’s probably the same. No stress. Just summer.”

You eye him. “Why though? You could intern anywhere or do research or I don’t know…rest?”

He shrugs. “And you could do the same but we both know you’re not doing anything structured this summer.”

“That’s…not untrue,” you admit.

Maya shuts her laptop with a soft click. “Okay, hold on. You two are telling me you’re seriously considering spending your last free summer wearing ugly polos and dodging rich people at a country club pool?”

You and Anton both nod. She sighs. “Gosh, you’re perfect for each other.”

You throw a sock at her.

Anton leans back on his hands, sipping the last of his drink and not commenting on Maya’s words. “Come on. No essays, no cramming, just a few shifts a week and bad iced coffee, and maybe some golf cart redemption.”

You narrow your eyes. “Only if you’re driving this time.”

“I’m an excellent driver.”

“Says the man who didn’t get his license until last year.”

It’s Anton’s turn to throw a sock at you. “And yet it only took me one try unlike some people in this room.”

You gasp scandalized. “Low blow! It’s not my fault my first instructor had it out for me!”

Anton laughs and dodges the squishmallow you throw at his head. “And the second and third time?”

You roll your eyes,  “That’s rich coming from the guy who thought parallel parking meant ‘close enough.’”

Anton raises his hands, grinning. “Okay, okay. Truce.”

You toss the last hoodie into a box. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Anton shakes his head but says nothing. Maya pushes her laptop away and stands, stretching like she’s aged ten years. “Alright, I’m gonna shower before I lose the will to study.”

She grabs her caddy and heads toward the bathroom, pausing only to scoop Antoinette off her desk and cradle her under one arm.

“I’m stealing your daughter,” she says over her shoulder.

“Just don’t drop her,” you call back.

“You won’t get far,” Anton says, barely looking up. “Antoinette’s got separation anxiety like her mom.” He jokes.

You slap his arm as Maya snorts. The door clicks shut behind her and the room settles into something quieter. Anton’s still sitting on the floor, legs stretched out fiddling with the edge of a new piece of tape.

He leans back on his hands. “You know I was serious, right?”

You glance over. “About what?”

“The country club.”

“Oh. Yeah. I figured.”

“I mean, it’s dumb but…” He shrugs. “It’d be fun. Like—one last summer. Just us. Before everything…changes.”

You don’t answer right away because it sounds fun, of course it does but under the surface something else tugs at you. It’s the realization that this might really be the last summer like this. He’s right…things are changing and they’re changing fast.

Fall means senior year, your last one. After that he’s off to med school probably in a different state. Maybe a different coast. You’re taking a gap year to travel, to finally breathe after years of nonstop coursework. You don’t have much time before “just showing up” turns into scheduled calls and missed birthdays.

You’ve known him for thirteen years. He’s been in every version of your life and suddenly that constant is starting to shift.

No more Friday night boba runs. No more post-practice phone calls. No more knowing someone will always be exactly where they’ve always been. It hits you and it stings. All you’ve ever known is him.

You don’t say any of that though. Instead, you nod. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

He looks over at you, surprised. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah I’m down.”

Anton smiles, soft and boyish like it’s just another one of your shared inside jokes. “I’ll send you the link.”

And that’s it.

You don’t need to say anything more. He doesn’t push. You both just sit there in the middle of the mess, pretending like next summer isn’t already pulling you in opposite directions.

May 30th 2025

Your name tag clicks as you fasten it to your new polo—navy blue, crisp and slightly too long in the sleeves. The country club rebranded since the last time you worked there. No more ketchup red polos or painfully thick khakis. Everything’s been toned down, modernized.

It’s been a week since spring semester ended. The dorms are cleared, Maya’s off in Japan and you’re back home in Jersey sleeping in your childhood bed but everything feels different. You feel different. Mostly because of what this summer means.

You want this summer to be good.

Scratch that, not just good but fun, worth remembering. You want to laugh until you’re on the verge of vomiting, take off guard point fives and have stories to tell when you’re older. If this is your last summer being attached at the hip with your best friend, then it better be one for the books.

You head down the stairs and make a quick detour into the kitchen. The fridge hums quietly as you open it, grabbing the water bottle you left chilling overnight. It’s already fogging from the heat. You stuff it into your tote before slipping into your beat up New Balances by the door. Your phone buzzes just as you’re smoothing out your shirt.

10:53 am | ton🦕: outside ☀️

In the living room, your parents are lounging on the couch, half-watching the morning news with matching mugs.

“I’m heading out!” you call.

“Tell Anton we say hi and that we love him!” your mom shouts over the TV.

Your dad raises his mug like a salute. “Drive safe.”

“Will do,” you say, already stepping outside.

Anton’s Jeep is parked out front, angled just slightly onto the curb like he’d pulled in too fast and couldn’t be bothered to fix it. The silver paint reflects the sky, windshield dotted with pollen. He’s standing next to the passenger door in his lifeguard uniform, his name tag slightly crooked.

The Jeep was a gift from his dad last year—a “congrats on passing your road test” paired with an “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” It’s nice. Too nice honestly but Anton doesn’t brag about it. He hardly talks about it at all.

He was bummed his dad couldn’t teach him how to drive. Not that he ever said it outright but you know. He wanted his dad to be there, to sit in the passenger seat, correct his turns and congratulate him when he nailed parallel parking but his dad’s still in Korea. Always has been and while Anton understands why it doesn’t make it suck any less.

You don’t bring it up though, neither of you do. Some things are just better left unspoken. When he sees you Anton straightens up and pulls open the door.

You raise a brow. “Still opening doors for me? Must be nice, having money and manners.”

He snorts. “Didn’t realize chivalry was a tax bracket thing.”

You grin. “Your mom really raised you right.”

“She tried,” he says, shutting the door behind you before jogging around to the driver’s side.

He slides in, adjusts the a/c and and pulls away from the curb.

“My parents say hi,” you say. “And that they love you.”

His mouth quirks. “Tell them I say it back. My mom says hi too.”

You settle in as the car coasts through your neighborhood. As he slows at the first stop sign, he gestures to the backseat. “Oh— I packed you lunch.”

You look at him shocked. “You did what?”

“In the lunchbag, kimchi fried rice with spam. My mom made the rice, I fried the spam.”

You give him a look. “You fried?”

“It might be a little crispy but the thought counts, no?” He admits.

You snort. “Remind me to text your mom later.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

He smirks. “You were thinking it.”

You don’t reply just reach into your tote and quietly pull out the water bottle you grabbed earlier. You offer it to him.

He blinks. “What’s this?”

“Cold water,” you say. “You always forget to drink when you’re on pool duty.”

He takes it from you slowly. “Thanks.”

You shrug. “It’s nothing.”

You say it’s nothing but the way his eyes linger on the bottle before setting it down makes you second guess…is it?

Is it nothing that you remembered even after all this time? That you chilled the bottle overnight just because you knew he’d forget? That he packed your favorite lunch like it was second nature or the fact that he knows your drink order without asking.

Is it nothing that your mom still calls him her other child or that your dad always asks how Anton’s doing before asking about you? That it’s been thirteen years and somehow, this still feels like home?

You tell yourself it’s nothing because if it isn’t nothing…what is it? Before you can think about that too hard, the next song clicks on through the speakers.

You freeze. “No way.”

Anton laughs. “You remember this one?”

“Growl?” you say.

He cranks it up slightly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. You both sit there for a second, just listening.

Back in high school, Anton was obsessed with this song. Learned the lyrics and the choreo. He forced you to learn with him to keep him accountable, you still remember late night dance practices in your garage. He ran those practices like you were in boot camp.

He told you one night after lifeguard training that he wanted to be a K-pop idol. That he was serious. Like—leave school, move to Seoul and audition serious.

It’s not that you didn’t believe in him. Anton’s stupidly talented, he can play multiple instruments, produce, sing, dance. If anyone could’ve made it, it was him but his parents shut it down. They said it wasn’t stable, that he had too much potential in science and medicine to “throw it away on a whim.”

He never brought it up again. He still makes music sometimes, beats in his room, covers for fun, a little keyboard loop here and there but it’s just a hobby now.

You glance at him. “You still remember the words?”

He nods slowly. “Not all of them. But yeah.” You start humming and he joins in.

The windows are down, the music’s too loud. You’re both singing off-key and half-laughing. The ride continues like this until Anton turns the music down as you pull into the long driveway of the country club.

The stone entrance is the same but everything else looks newer and cleaner. The landscaping is sharp, the hedges manicured like they’ve been cut with scissors and the old faded sign has been swapped for something sleeker, modernized with some fancy rebrand name neither of you care enough to remember.

He parks in the staff lot angled slightly on the curb like always and hops out to grab your bags before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt.

You follow him inside through the back entrance down a hallway lined with beige walls and emergency evacuation posters. The staff break room smells faintly like sunscreen and freezer burn same as it always did. At least the lockers have been upgraded, sleeker and less dented metal and sharp corners.

Anton eyes the row before stopping at the end. “Take this one,” he says, nudging open the cleanest locker.

You tilt your head. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Bigger shelf.”

You don’t argue. You just smile and tuck your stuff inside. You’re taking down your water bottle when he nudges your shoulder. “Let’s go. You know they hate when we’re late.”

You roll your eyes but follow him through the staff hallways back to the front desk, where three others are already waiting.

The first face you recognize almost immediately, he’s about three apples tall, warm-eyed and has a smirk that’s impossible to miss.

“Sohee? No way.” You blink, half-laughing.

He grins. “Look who finally came back.”

You rush over, giving him a quick hug. It’s been forever, two years at least. Sohee was your summer coworker-turned-honorary brother back when you were fourteen. He worked the snack shack while you manned the front desk and Anton kept an eye on the pool. He went to high school in the next town over but somehow you all clicked immediately. Sohee had a big basement, a decent playlist and a personality that made him easy to trust.

After graduation, he headed to California for college. Got tired of Jersey winters and wanted a change. You’ve only really kept in touch through Instagram and random texts, low maintenance, long-distance kind of friendship. The kind that picks back up like nothing changed.

“You working front desk again?” he asks, already guessing the answer.

You nod. “Duh.”

He glances at Anton. “Pool?”

Anton nods back, reaching out for a bro hug. “Wouldn’t be summer without it.”

The guy next to Sohee is new; tall, tan, slightly broader than Anton with soft brown hair and a jawline that looks carved.

“This is Sungchan,” Sohee offers. “New hire. Lifeguarding with your boy over there.” He’s leaning casually against the counter sipping a Gatorade like he’s already claimed his chill guy status.

“I’m Harvey,” the girl beside him says cheerfully. She’s shorter, hair pulled into buns with spikes and practically bouncing on her heels. “Poolside snacks. Is this your first summer too?”

You smile. “Not exactly. We worked here freshman year of high school.”

Anton nods. “Figured we’d come back for one last round.”

“Ohhh, that makes sense! I saw you guys come in together, he was carrying your bag and opened the door for you and everything. You guys are so cute. Are you dating?” Harvey asks brightly.

The question stuns the group into silence.

You falter. “Oh—no, we’re just—”

“Friends,” Anton cuts in, laughing a little too fast. “Definitely just friends.”

You nod quickly. “Yeah. No. We’re just friends.”

It’s not a new question. People have been asking you that since middle school. Usually, you deny it without thinking, sometimes with a laugh, sometimes with a dramatic gag for effect. Living with Maya has made it easier to ignore the comments; she’s always teasing, always shipping, always nudging with that “but what if?”

But for some reason this time it lands wrong. Like a splinter, like something you can’t quite shake off. Especially when you glance at Anton and he’s laughing like the idea of dating you is absurd. Not even worth considering.

That…stings a little more than you expect it to. The conversation moves on.

Sungchan asks where you go to school. You tell him. He says he’s at Rutgers, studying kinesiology. He asks if you’re pre-med. You say no. He asks if you’ve ever been to Atlantic City. You say a hundred times over. It takes you a second to realize he’s flirting.

Sohee notices too, he smirks subtly, eyes flicking toward Anton who says nothing. Just stands there jaw tight arms crossed like he’s suddenly bored of the conversation.

Harvey loops back into your chat easily, bubbly and warm, clearly excited to be working her first job. You like her already.

Sohee eventually claps his hands together. “Alright losers, we should probably actually, you know, do our jobs.”

Anton mutters something under his breath and turns to Sungchan. “Let’s go before they stick us on towel duty.”

The two of them walk off toward the pool deck and Harvey waves before darting back toward the breakroom for her apron. Which leaves just you and Sohee at the desk.

He folds his arms and looks at you for a second too long.

You side-eye him. “What?”

He shrugs, clearly biting back a smile. “Just surprised. Thought maybe something would’ve changed between you two by now.”

You make a face. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything.”

“You are.”

He leans forward, elbows on the desk. “I’m just saying, if I didn’t know you guys—”

“Well, you do,” you cut in. “And there is nothing going on with me and Anton.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment just hums like he’s filing it away for later.

You look down at the sign-in binder, suddenly very interested in the pages that haven’t been filled yet because maybe once it was easy to say there’s no you and Anton and not think twice but right now…you’re not so sure.

___

You and Sohee spend most of the morning shift alternating between joking around and pretending to be productive.

He makes fun of your growing squishmallow collection, shows you a dumb video of a goose chasing tourists and bets you ten bucks someone’s gonna try to sneak in through the tennis courts again before noon.

“You still have that one video?” he asks at one point, tapping on the desk with a pencil. “The one Anton filmed after your crash out over that burger king worker getting your order wrong.”

You laugh. “Oh my gosh! I completely forgot about that night!”

He grins. “We were so annoying.”

“We still are,” you say and he doesn’t deny it.

Right before noon a girl storms through the front entrance, sunglasses still on and sandals clacking like she owns the place. She doesn’t even say hello before launching in. “My friend’s pass isn’t working and it’s hot and I swear if I have to stand in the sun one more second—”

You stare at her blakly. “What’s the name the pass is under?”

She scoffs before answering, “Lexi.”

You check the binder. “There’s no Lexi on the guest list.”

“She’s with a member. My dad okayed it.”

“I get that but if the member didn’t authorize her, we can’t—”

She cuts you off. “Are you incompetent? I just said my dad is fine with it.”

You smile—tight and polite. “I’m just following policy. Again, if your father reaches out to the front desk we can get it sorted.”

She gives you one last huff and storms out her heels clicking. You lean back in your chair, eyes narrowing. “I hate it here.”

Sohee snorts. “You handled that like a pro.”

“She called me incompetent.”

“Yeah but you didn’t cry or threaten to quit. Growth.”

You snort and toss a pen at him. “You’re so stupid.”

He dodges. “So are you, take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to murder someone and I don’t want to be a witness.”

You groan but nod, grabbing your water bottle from under the desk. “Text me if another demon shows up.”

“Only if they’re hot.” You laugh and shake your head as you walk away.

Outside, the sun hits you instantly. The pool is packed, kids screaming, parents sweating and lifeguards trying to look like they’re not losing their minds. You spot Anton climbing down from the stand, towel over his shoulder, hair damp and sticking to his forehead. He meets your eye. “Break?”

“Sent out by Sohee before I committed a felony.”

Anton grins. “Be right back.”

He disappears into the staff building to grab the lunch he packed while you claim a shaded spot under a cabana kicking off your shoes and letting your socked-legs rest against the cool concrete. A breeze rolls in and you lean back, eyes half-closed.

“Hey,” someone says beside you.

You turn to find Sungchan, shirt slightly damp and water bottle in hand. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head. “Be my guest.”

He drops into the chair beside you, stretching like a cat. “I’m dying.”

“It’s a billion degrees out,” you agree.

“You always work front desk?”

“Yeah. It’s my thing, Anton’s tried getting me to do lifeguarding but he’s always been the better swimmer.”

“Cool,” he says and then offers you a fruit snack and asks if you’re from around here. You tell him you grew up just ten minutes down the road. He makes a joke about Jersey shore and you actually laugh. Anton rounds the corner carrying the lunchbox in one hand slushies in the other. His gaze flicks to where you’re sitting laughing at something Sungchan said and something shifts behind his eyes.

He doesn’t say hi. Doesn’t look at you. Just walks up and sets the lunchbox on the table between you without a word.

Sungchan blinks. “Hey man.”

Anton glances at him. “You’re still on break?”

“Uh…yeah?”

Anton doesn’t respond. Just raises a brow like really?

Sungchan stands slowly. “I should probably get back.”

He gives you a little wave. “See you later.” You wave back a bit thrown then turn to Anton.

“Seriously?”

He doesn’t meet your eye. “What?”

“That was rude.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t trying to be nice.”

You narrow your eyes at him, grabbing the lunchbox and flopping back into your seat.

“You okay?” you ask.

Anton shrugs again, collapsing into the chair beside you. “Just hot.”

You snort. “Yeah, hot and grumpy.”

He gives you a side glance then finally cracks a small smile. “Yeah, well. I brought slushies. That’s gotta count for something.”

You grab yours, mango, your favorite and take a long sip. “You’re lucky you remembered. I was about to write you off for being so rude.”

Anton reaches into the lunchbox and starts unpacking the contents. Two mismatched Tupperware containers, a few napkins, two forks. You watch as he places everything on the small table between you.

He pulls out the kimchi fried rice and hands you the portion with the less-burnt spam without needing to be asked.

“You’re so weirdly domestic,” you mutter, digging in.

“I don’t know what that means.”

You grin and the silence between you settles. The heat of the afternoon hums low around you but the breeze blows in every now and then and keeps things comfortable. From across the pool, a whistle blows and a kid does a cannonball that earns gasps from half the loungers.

You kick your leg slightly. “Remember that one time some kid got his arm stuck in the vending machine?”

Anton laughs with his mouth full. “Didn’t you encourage him?”

“I did not!”

“You absolutely did. He was trying to get the last bag of Doritos and you said, and I quote, ‘bet you can reach it if you just wiggle your arm a little more.’”

“That could’ve meant anything.”

“He almost dislocated his shoulder.”

“Okay but did he get the Doritos?”

Anton points at you with his fork. “You’re the reason we have warning signs now.”

You snort, shaking your head as you take another bite. You chew slowly, watching the pool sparkle under the sun.

In a softer voice you ask, “Why’d you bring up working here again? Really.” Anton doesn’t answer right away. Just sips his slushie, eyes fixed on something far off. When he finally speaks, his voice is casual.

“Figured we’d have fun,” he says. “Just us. Like before.”

You nod before really thinking about it but the words catch up to you. Just us.

You’ve said that to each other a hundred times over the years, maybe even more. When you were kids convincing your parents to let you go on class trips. When you got your first job together. When you swore off dating apps after two back-to-back disasters. It’s always been a comfort. Something easy. Something true but now, sitting here under a cabana with your lunch still warm between you and the summer breeze curling at your ankles, it feels different.

He says it so simply, like it’s not supposed to mean anything. Like it’s obvious but your chest tightens anyway, like maybe…maybe it does mean something or could mean something.

You glance over and search his face but he’s not looking at you. Just tearing little pieces of his napkin, focused on nothing at all.

You clear your throat. “Well…so far, so good.”

His lips quirk. “Even with Sungchan?”

You let out a groan and nudge his shoulder. “Oh my gosh. He was being nice.”

“He was flirting.” He argues.

“I don’t even know him.” You counter.

“He offered you his fruit snacks.”

You stare. “That is not flirting.”

“That’s first base,” he says deadpan.

You laugh despite yourself and shake your head. “He’s cool I guess but he’s still a stranger. I barely know the guy.” You take another sip of your slushie. “Besides, no one’s stealing your spot.”

He looks over at that, just for a second. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But even after you say it something lingers in the silence between you. Something neither of you names, not yet. You look back out at the pool, squinting against the sun and pretend not to notice the way Anton shifts beside you.

June 17th, 2025

It’s a slow afternoon at the club. Sohee’s meant to be manning the front desk with you but really he’s just spinning around in the office chair balancing a bottle of Gatorade on his head while you lazily fold brochures into lopsided thirds.

“You know,” he says, steadying the bottle with one finger, “if I wasn’t working here, I think I’d make a pretty decent spy.”

You snort, folding another brochure. “You can’t even sneak snacks past the manager without getting caught.”

“That was one time and the chips were loud.”

The side door creaks open letting in a sticky gust of summer air. Anton and Sungchan walk in from the pool deck, Sungchan’s mid-story talking animatedly with his hands and Anton looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“—and then the kid straight-up cannonballs next to me like I don’t exist. I got splashed in the mouth.” Sungchan says frowning.

Anton shrugs. “I don’t know man, you did yell at him.”

“That crotch gremlin deserved it!”

They drift behind the desk, Sungchan flops into the second chair and kicks his feet up, Anton leans against the counter beside you standing closer than necessary. You glance at the clock, only an hour left on pool duty before rotations, Harvey had the early shift and already left.

“You’re dripping everywhere.” Sohee says glaring at Sungchan who just shrugs and shakes out his hair making Sohee groan as he gets soaked.

Just then, your manager strolls in glancing toward the darkening sky beyond the windows. His clipboard is tucked under his arm and his brows furrow slightly.

“Storm’s coming in early, might have to shut the pool soon. Don’t need the whole crew if this keeps up, anyone wanna head out early?” He announces.

Before anyone can say anything, Sohee shoots to his feet. “Yes. Me. I will gladly shoulder this burden for my best buddy pals.”

Your manager snorts. “That was fast.”

“I’m a man of action,” Sohee says, already grabbing his bag. “Sungchan, you coming?”

“Yeah, I got family stuff anyway.” Sungchan says, standing with a stretch.

Anton arches a brow. “Didn’t you say that yesterday?”

“Different side of the family,” Sungchan replies smoothly, already halfway down the hall.

You stifle a laugh as the door swings shut behind them, leaving the front desk quiet. Outside, the first low rumble of thunder rolls somewhere in the distance.

Anton glances at you and tilts his head toward the towel cart. “And then there were two.”

You sigh dramatically pushing off the counter. “Guess we better make ourselves useful.”

Anton follows you to the towel cart bumping your shoulder with his as he grabs a stack. “At least it’s just for a few hours?”

“I guess.” You mutter, folding a towel sloppily.

Just then, your manager pokes his head out from the breakroom half-distracted by the radar on his phone.

“There’s not much left. Just make sure the locker rooms are clean, stack the chairs if it rains and lock up if I’m not back by closing. I’ve got a staff meeting at the main branch.” He says.

You and Anton both blink. “Wait, you're leaving?”

He shrugs. “Storm’s rolling in so no one’s sticking around today. You two will be fine.” With that he leaves, the door swinging behind him and umbrella already up.

Anton stares after him. “Did he just abandon us mid-shift?”

You nod. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what just happened.”

The sky grows heavier as you both finish up—tossing used towels in the bin, wiping down snack bar counters, dragging pool chairs toward the fence line as wind picks up. The club slowly empties around you. A couple teens from the tennis court wave goodbye, the remaining lifeguards shout something about “good luck,” and soon it’s just you and Anton, stacking the last of the loungers as the first drop of rain hits your arm.

You both scramble under the nearest overhang just as the clouds finally open up drenching the deck in seconds. You’re out of breath, a little damp and your shirt’s sticking to your back.

“Well, guess we’re stuck.” You breathe, watching the rain hammer the pavement from the safety of indoors.

Anton props his hands on his hips. “Could be worse.”

As if on cue the hallway lights flicker once, twice then cut out completely, leaving you in the dark.

You turn to him slowly. “Seriously?” Anton winces, hands already up in surrender. “Not my fault! How was I supposed to know!?”

You squint at him but he’s already backing toward the supply closet. “I’ll grab the flashlights.”

You huff and duck back behind the front desk. It’s weirdly peaceful here without the usual hum of air conditioning and squeals from the pool. Just the sound of rain and the occasional thunder rumble.

While he’s gone, you dig into the lower drawer under the desk and pull out Sohee’s “secret” stash of cards (the one he swears no one knows about but everyone definitely does). You grab the Uno deck and a half-empty bag of jolly ranchers, shaking the cards out and ‘shuffling’.

Anton returns with a flashlight already turned on, tucking the second into the tissue box holder for hands-free lighting.

“Please tell me you shuffled better than last time,” he says, eyeing the deck suspiciously.

You pause. “...Maybe.”

You’re both crouched behind the desk, legs tangled and cards fanned out while the flashlight glows between you. The storm outside is getting heavier and you mentally sigh knowing you can kiss your rewatch of TVD with Maya goodbye.

“Draw four.” Anton says, smug as he tosses the card down.

You gape at it, betrayed. “Dude! We just started.”

He leans back, stretching like he’s got all the time in the world. “Don’t care, pick ‘em up.”

“I’m never forgiving you.” You say as you pick up four cards.

He laughs, biting into a watermelon Jolly Rancher and tossing you a blue one without looking. You catch it and roll your eyes.

You glance at him, hair still damp from the sprint, sleeves pushed up, lips slightly pink from the candy and it hits you again, just like it did in his car on the day of your first shift, how much he means to you. How dangerous this feeling is becoming but you say nothing, just slap down a wild draw four and smirk. “Your move, loser. The color is green.”

___

Eventually, the round ends with Anton barely winning and the sugar buzz from the jolly ranchers wear off. With nothing else to do, the two of you flop back against the floor, heads tilted toward the ceiling.

“This is so boring,” you groan.

“It’s either this or alphabetizing the lost and found.”

You squint at the ceiling tiles like they hold answers. Anton shifts slightly and pulls out his phone checking the battery. “Eight percent. You want music before she dies on us?”

You nod and toss your own phone over. “Bluetooth’s still connected to the speaker in here. Just use mine.”

He queues up your liked songs on shuffle and taps play. The first song to play is Ordinary by Alex Warren. You sit up immediately. “Oh my gosh, I love this song.”

Anton raises an eyebrow, watching the way your face lights up. “I can tell.”

You hug your knees to your chest swaying a little with the beat. “I’ve been obsessed since it dropped. Wanted to see him in concert but the prices were ridiculous.”

He hums. “Wanna dance?”

You stare at him. “Right now?”

He shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Why not?”

Your eyes search his face. He’s not teasing just asking. After a moment you slowly nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

He stands first and offers a hand which you take as you get to your feet. The two of you step around the scattered cards, the dim flashlight casting shadows behind you. The storm outside softens to a steady patter and somewhere in the distance thunder hums low.

Anton places a careful hand on your waist and you loop yours around his neck. It’s a little awkward at first, a little silly but then it isn’t.

You sway and he hums along under his breath. You snuggle closer to his chest, finding comfort in the way his chest vibrates with each note.

Your heart starts doing that thing again, fluttering and aching and racing all at once. This feels like nothing but it also feels like everything.

Suddenly Anton says, “remember when you made me promise to marry you if we’re both single by thirty?”

You pull back slightly to look at him. “Wait—when did I say that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Sophomore year. After things ended with that junior—what was his name? Woobin?”

You gasp, “Oh my gosh! I lost so many aura points that year.” You say as a shiver runs down your spine.

You were with Wonbin for a little over six months though sometimes it felt like twice as long.

At first he was exciting, mysterious with a dry sense of humor and a way of making you feel like the center of his universe until you weren’t.

What started as something fun and flirty quickly slipped into something…heavier. You started bending more, giving more. Time, patience, pieces of yourself and he kept taking. He never asked you to shrink yourself, not out loud at least but somehow you found yourself doing it anyway. To keep the peace and to keep him.

He didn’t like that Anton was always around. Didn’t like that your phone lit up with his texts or that you studied together late. No matter how many times you explained that Anton had been there long before him, that it was never like that, he’d just give you a look and change the subject. He never raised his voice, never cussed you out but he was cold in all the places warmth should’ve lived.

And his friends. You shiver at the reminder of them. Girls who barely spoke to you, who made inside jokes you weren’t part of, who looked at you like you’d taken something that didn’t belong to you. You tried. You really did but trying only made it clearer you weren’t welcome.

The breaking point came in the common room. You’d found out that one of those girls used to date him. You didn’t come at him yelling, you just asked why he hadn’t told you. Why he’d let you sit next to her, smile at her, try so hard to be liked by someone who used to be where you were.

He didn’t even let you finish, called you a hypocrite and said he didn’t owe you explanations when you had Anton on speed dial. Then he walked out. Just like that.

You didn’t chase him. You just stood there in the middle of the lounge, hands trembling.

Maya came to you not even a minute later. She’d been eavesdropping from the hallway. She didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped an arm around you and walked you back to your room.

“I always hated him but you already knew that.” She said the second the door closed.

You slumped onto your desk chair while Maya cracked open a bottle of Tito’s. She was celebrating the end of your situationship, you were grieving. Sort of.

“He sucked but you’re still hot.” She had said plainly, handing you a shot. You drank to that.

Then you kept drinking. The two of you ended up blasting music, dancing around the dorm, mascara smudged and feet bare, shouting lyrics you only half knew. That’s when the knock came.

Anton was the RA on duty that night, he looked tired but concerned, already wincing when he saw the speaker blinking blue. “Girls—”

“We got a noise complaint?” Maya guessed.

Anton nodded. “Two, actually.”

You winced. “Are we in trouble?”

He glanced at the open bottle on your desk and sighed. “Technically? Yes. Realistically? No.”

He didn’t write you up. Just stepped inside, clicked off the speaker and lowered the lights. Then he grabbed two water bottles from under your bed, handed one to Maya and sat with you on the edge of your bed helping you drink while she wandered to the bathroom, mumbling something about needing makeup wipes.

He didn’t ask what happened. Didn’t need to. He already knew. Anton always knew.

He knew that Wonbin never held your hand in public unless people weren’t watching. That he rarely walked you back to your dorm after study sessions. That he “forgot” your birthday until Maya posted a story about it.

He was the one who bought you a cupcake when Wonbin didn’t show up to your dinner plans. The one who printed your essay for you the morning your laptop died because Wonbin hadn’t answered your texts. The one who sat outside your chem lecture for an hour once, just to walk you home after your midterm.

He didn’t like Wonbin. Never had but he never said anything because you kept insisting everything was fine and he didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose so he just stayed quiet.

Anton wrapped you up in your blanket that night and helped you sober up while you ranted about love and timing and how you had “plans that you couldn’t share because the haters would sabotage you.”

You remember him giving you a blank stare before asking if you were seriously quoting Dr. Umar. You’d just shrugged then made him pinky promise. First it was to marry you if you weren’t in a serious relationship by the end of senior year but Maya chimed in from the bathroom and said that was too soon so you adjusted it—thirty. If you were still single by thirty, he had to marry you. You passed out right after.

You blink at the memory laughing softly and a little horrified. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I actually said that.”

Anton chuckles, his fingers tightening a bit on your waist. “You were drunk.”

“You should’ve stopped me.”

“I don’t think I could’ve. You were very persuasive” He says grinning. 

You groan. “That’s so embarrassing.”

He tilts his head, thoughtful. “I don’t know. It was kind of sweet.”

You snort. “I was in the trenches.”

“I remember. I wanted to punch that guy sometimes.” He murmurs, voice quieter now. 

You glance up at him, not shocked. “You and Maya.”

“I would’ve done it, y’know,” he says after a beat.

You cock your head still half-smiling. “Punched him?”

Anton shakes his head. “No. Marry you…you know, if we were thirty and single.”

You blink, breath catching in your throat. He says it so easily. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s always been obvious.

Your mouth opens but no sound comes out at first. “You would?”

“Yeah. You’re not exactly hard to imagine a future with.” He says simply, like the thought doesn’t scare him at all.

For a second you don’t know what to say because it’s Anton, your best friend, saying he’d marry you and saying it like it’s nothing, like it’s already written somewhere in the future, just waiting for the two of you to catch up.

You think about waking up to him. About sharing a bathroom and arguing over toothbrush placements. About movie nights in old pajamas, mismatched socks and legs tangled under the blanket. About apartment keys and slow Sunday mornings and his name showing up on every contact form you’ll ever fill out again.

You think about bringing him lunch at work. About him rubbing your back while you fall asleep. About the two of you building a home from scratch, filling it with too many throw pillows and framed polaroids and mugs that don’t match.

You even think—just briefly—about kids.

Maybe a little girl with your smile and his eyes. A boy who makes the same scrunched-up face when he’s concentrating. Anton would be the softest kind of dad, you know it. The kind who learns how to braid hair and shows up to every dance recital or soccer match early just so he can save a front-row seat.

Your chest squeezes at the thought because the idea of forever with him doesn’t feel scary. It doesn’t feel rushed or wrong. It feels…easy and almost right.

Anton shifts slightly, eyes flicking down to meet yours like he feels it too. Like he might say something more but then the lights flicker back on with a quiet buzz. You both freeze then blink dazed like a spell’s been broken.

Anton clears his throat and takes a careful step back. “We should probably lock up.”

You nod quickly. “Y-yeah. Before the storm comes back.”

Neither of you says anything else. Not about the dance. Not about the promise. Not about what might have happened if the lights had stayed off just a minute longer.

July 3rd, 2025

It’s been almost a month since the storm, you and Anton never brought up that night again. You moved on like nothing happened and went right back to being best friends.

The days have since blurred into sun-drenched afternoons and late-night group chats with slushies and sunscreen. Summer is halfway through and you’ve done more than you thought you would.

Harvey’s become one of your favorite people. You’ve spent more time with her than anyone lately, just the two of you doing silly girly things like you’ve known each other forever. You’ve gotten your nails done twice; matching pastel chrome one week then tiny hearts the next.

You’ve had sleepovers where you ate too much candy, tried on outfits for no reason and stayed up until 1 a.m freetyling to old beats Anton had made. You’ve gone on aimless shopping trips, floated in her pool while talking about first crushes and dream jobs and made it a tradition to blast One Direction during every 7-Eleven run.

You’ve spent a lot of time with the guys too. Group hangouts at Sohee’s house are now routine. His basement has become the unofficial meeting spot, snacks everywhere, a projector hooked up for movies, blankets in every corner.

You rotate who gets to pick the movie (Sungchan keeps choosing weird action flicks and Sohee only ever wants to rewatch Rush Hour) and every hangout ends with someone yelling over who ate the last bag of gummies.

One night Sungchan brought over edibles from his college roommate Eunseok. You were hesitant at first but Anton nudged your shoulder and said, “why not” so you gave in. You all ended up sprawled out on the carpet of Sohee’s basement laughing at nothing and everything, whispering nonsense while trying not to wake his family upstairs.

At one point Harvey started crying because the ceiling “felt too big,” and Sungchan offered her a half-eaten Rice Krispie treat like it was a solution. Sohee kept trying to freestyle over the Wii music theme and Anton couldn’t stop giggling every time he looked at you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, just that you woke up with Anton’s hoodie draped over you and a bag of marshmallows stuck to your arm. How they got there, you still have no clue.

You’ve also spent time with Anton. There was a week where he decided completely out of nowhere that he wanted to bleach his hair. You helped, obviously. Sat with him in his bathroom while he panicked over the yellow stage, laughed when the toner stained his ears purple and eventually helped him dye it back to black two weeks later when he said he “missed feeling like himself.”

You went on a picnic too, just the two of you at the park where you used to ride bikes as kids. You brought drinks, a bag of chips and laid out an old blanket while he strummed his guitar. It felt a little like slipping back into a memory. Safe and familiar. Comfortable in a way you didn’t even realize you missed.

You’ve texted with Maya here and there. She’s having the time of her life being back home in Japan, eating well, reconnecting with family and promising to bring back enough souvenirs to redecorate the whole dorm. You miss her but you’re glad she’s having fun. If anyone deserved a break, it’s her.

So far, you’d say this summer’s shaping up to be one for the books like you hoped.

Currently, you and Harvey have just pulled into the staff lot five minutes after your shifts have started, windows down, music still playing from your drive in. She’s wearing her “Snack Shack Queen” visor ironically and sipping from a pink water bottle covered in glittery stickers. You’re both still laughing about something Sungchan texted in the group chat.

Harvey parks her beat-up Corolla with a glitter Hello Kitty air freshener dangling from the mirror next to Anton’s Jeep. He usually drives you both but since you crashed at Harvey’s last night, you figured it made more sense to go together, his shift started before yours anyway.

“Tell Loverboy I say hey,” Harvey says, grabbing her apron from the backseat and shooting you a wink.

“He’s not—” you start but she’s already skipping toward the snack bar, waving over her shoulder.

You shake your head, smiling and sling your tote over your shoulder before heading inside. The country club smells like chlorine, sunscreen and money. You pass the front desk and spot Sohee’s station empty, he called in “sick” this morning, which you’re 99% sure just means he didn’t feel like putting on khakis today.

Out by the pool, Anton’s already leaning against the towel cart, arms crossed, hair still damp and glinting in the sun. His name tag is crooked, sunglasses hooked onto the collar of his navy polo like they live there.

“You’re late, I had to fold, like, four towels without you.”  He calls out but he’s smiling. 

“Tragic,” you deadpan, tossing your bag into the breakroom on the way over. “You want a medal or a hug?”

“A raise, actually.”

You roll your eyes but the corners of your mouth tug upward anyway. He looks good, tanned and relaxed with a confidence he only wears in the summer. You’ve known his face forever but lately it feels like you’re noticing things more than you used to.

The way his shoulders have filled out. The way his hair curls slightly when it’s wet. The way he chews on the edge of his sunglasses when he’s focused. It’s subtle. Barely anything but it’s there. You grab a towel and start folding next to him.

“How’s Sohee?” Anton asks.

“Too sick to answer texts apparently,” you say with a laugh. “But healthy enough to post a gym selfie.”

Anton snorts, shaking his head as he flips a towel. Then after a beat he says, “My dad’s back.”

You glance over, softening. “Yeah?”

He nods once, eyes still on the towel in his hands. “Flew in yesterday. Just for the week.”

You pause. “How do you feel about that?”

He shrugs, like he doesn’t want to think too hard about it. “Happy, I guess. Just wish it was longer.”

There’s more he doesn’t say but you know it’s there. Anton doesn’t talk about his dad much. Not really. You know he wishes he came home more often. That he hates how normal it’s become to miss him.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, my parents invited you over for dinner tonight. You don’t have to come if you’re busy, but my mom thought it’d be nice.”

You smile, folding another towel. “I’d love to. I miss being around her.”

He glances over and the smile he gives you is soft. Grateful. A little relieved. “Cool.”

You finish the last of the towels in silence then the two of you head off to your stations, the sun already climbing higher in the sky.

___

You and Anton clock out right as the sun starts dipping behind the trees, casting everything in a late-summer haze. Your shirt sticks slightly to your back, your name tag is crooked and your tote feels heavier than usual.

Anton unlocks his Jeep with a click and you toss your bag into the back seat before climbing in. The windows are already down helping a bit with the heat. He turns on the car and your phone automatically connects to aux before he can even ask.

You scroll for a bit before settling on a random indie playlist. You’re halfway through the second song when your phone buzzes.

5:47 pm | sungchan 🐸: tell me this isn’t you 😭

The next text is a meme of someone dramatically face-planting into a bed labeled “me after a 5 hour shift of standing still pretending to be helpful” You snort. Another buzz comes in.

5:50 pm | sungchan 🐸: also ur slushie combo is elite don’t let anyone tell you diff brodie 🙏🏻

You giggle, thumbs tapping out a quick reply. Anton glances sideways. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head. “Sungchan went back to the seven eleven to try my slushie combo you all clowned me for and for the record he thinks it tastes great.”

Anton lets out a short laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You two text a lot, huh?”

You glance at him. “I mean…yeah, I guess. He’s funny.”

“Hilarious,” Anton mutters as his fingers tighten slightly on the steering wheel. You blink but say nothing, turning back to your phone.

Anton pulls into his driveway a few minutes later and before he’s even out of the car, you spot someone through the window waving a controller in the air.

Anton helps you out of the jeep and unlocks the front door of his home and allows you to walk in first. “About time,” Junyoung calls from the couch, controller in hand. “I’ve been waiting for backup.”

He looks so different it almost knocks you back. He’s taller than Anton now. Freshly sixteen. Still adorable but no braces, no bowl cut just sharp cheekbones, a deeper voice and the same mischievous grin.

“Excuse me,” you say, stepping inside and tossing your bag down. “I’ve been working. What’s your excuse?”

“Don’t need one,” he says simply, then pulls you into a hug that knocks the air out of you. “Also, Anton still sucks. You’re playing next round.”

Anton scoffs. “You got lucky once.”

You throw yourself onto the couch beside Junyoung grabbing a spare controller with a grin. “Please. You’ve always sucked at gaming.”

“Facts. You remember that one time he rage quit because you beat him three rounds in a row?” Junyoung says smirking as he unpauses the game.

Anton groans behind you. “That was like eight years ago.”

“It’s okay, Ton. Losing builds character.” You say sweetly, nudging Junyoung with your shoulder.

He’s about to retaliate, probably with a pillow to your face when the soft sound of footsteps interrupts. Anton’s mom appears from around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“There she is,” she beams, already pulling you into a warm hug. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

You hug her back tightly. “I’ve missed you too.”

She pulls back just enough to cup your face in both hands. “It’s been too long.”

“I know! I’m sorry for not coming by sooner. Summer’s been more packed than I expected.” You say bashfully.

She waves off your apology with a soft cluck of her tongue. “As long as you come by again before the summer ends, you’re forgiven.”

“Of course! There’s no way I’m leaving without seeing you again.” You say.

That earns you a delighted cheek pinch and a mock stern, “Good. Now, are you hungry?”

“Always.”

“Perfect. I made all your favorites.”

You stare at her shocked. “Wait, seriously?”

She smiles. “You think I don’t remember?”

Your heart swells. “Can I help with anything?”

She waves you off. “No need. I’m sure Junyoung is dying to have you all to himself.”

Junyoung shrugs with a lopsided grin. “She gets me.”

Anton’s dad steps in next, he offers you a hug too, less animated but just as sincere.

“Hi, Welcome home.” You say, suddenly shy.

“It’s good to see you.” He says

You nod, a little overwhelmed. “It’s really good to see you too.”

He pulls back, studying your face for a moment like he’s trying to memorize it. “You’ve grown up well.”

You duck your head, smiling. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you’re still around, means a lot to me. To all of us.”

You blink a few times, heart tugging at the edges. “Me too.”

He gives your arm a squeeze before turning toward the kitchen to join his wife.

You plop back down beside Junyoung, resuming your spot with the controller and clear your throat. “Okay. Let’s see if you’re actually good or just all talk.”

“Bet,” Junyoung says.

Anton disappears up the stairs to change and you don’t think twice about it at least not until he comes back down a few minutes later with an extra hoodie draped over his arm. Without saying anything, he tosses it into your lap.

You look up at him. “What’s this for?”

He shrugs like it’s obvious. “The AC’s blasting,” he says casually. “You always get cold.”

You blink a few times then smile. “Right.”

You tug it on without thinking. It’s soft and smells faintly like his laundry detergent, the sleeves are a little too long and the collar is stretched, proof it’s been worn a lot.

Your chest tightens in a way that’s becoming more frequent around him. It’s nothing. Just a hoodie you try to remind yourself but it still makes your chest go a little funny.

Maybe it’s because he just knows. He doesn’t ask, he just knows. Little stuff you don’t even realize you’ve said out loud like how you always run cold or that you sleep better with background noise or that you hate when your food touches on the plate even if you pretend it doesn’t matter.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Anytime.” He says as he shrugs like it’s nothing.

You settle deeper into the couch, tugging the sleeves over your hands and letting the warmth wrap around you. Anton turns his attention to the screen, where Junyoung is still mid-game yelling something about lag and you pulling him down.

You glance over at Anton once more and wonder when this started feeling different. When something so small, so simple began to mean so much.

Soon, Anton’s mom calls everyone to dinner and Junyoung is the first to jump up, already bragging about how he carried the team.

You and Anton follow behind and the smell hits you instantly. His mom has always been an incredible cook and the dining table proves it. Bowls of banchan, platters of rice, soy-glazed chicken, kimchi pancakes still steaming. Your mouth waters just looking at it.

Anton’s dad pours sparkling water into your glass before settling across from you and his mom gestures for you to sit wherever you’d like. You slide into the seat beside Anton without thinking.

“So,” his mom says brightly, already passing you the rice spoon, “how’s school?”

You sigh and give a small laugh. “It’s…fine. I’m ready to be done.” Everyone laughs at that. Even Anton lets out a knowing groan.

“Any plans for after graduation?” his dad asks.

You shrug. “Thinking of taking a gap year. Traveling a little before applying to grad school.”

“Ooh, I love that,” his mom says, eyes lighting up. “Where to?”

You rattle off a few places; Shanghai, maybe Spain, somewhere in West Africa if you can swing it. His dad nods. “Do you know what your concentration will be?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “Lately I’ve been leaning toward cancer research but it’s still a little fuzzy.” Anton hums beside you, like he’s storing the answer somewhere.

Then with barely a beat his mom tilts her head. “And what about dating? Anyone special?”

You choke on your water a little, coughing into your sleeve. Anton groans immediately. “Mom,” he says, dragging the word out like a sigh.

“What? I’m just asking. You’re gorgeous and smart. Don’t tell me no one’s caught your eye.” She says smiling innocently.

You laugh awkwardly but politely. “No, there’s no one right now. I haven’t really thought about it much lately.”

“Mmm, what about Sungchan?” She says then smiles again.

That makes you pause. “Wait—how do you know Sungchan?”

“I saw the photo strips,” she says with a little twinkle in her eye.

Oh. Right.

You’d completely forgotten about those. A few weeks ago all five of you had gone to Boston on a whim. No plans, just the weekend off and nowhere to be. You’d convinced everyone it would be fun. Harvey wanted to thrift, Sungchan wanted an excuse to wear his bucket hat, Sohee said he knew a good boba spot and Anton didn’t even need convincing.

You took the train into the city and spent the morning biking around the reflecting pool weaving past couples on picnic blankets and kids chasing each other through fountains. The five of you looked ridiculous riding in a single file line, Anton almost crashed into a tree trying to get a video of Harvey singing One Direction off-key.

You drifted in and out of thrift stores, tried on sunglasses you didn’t plan to buy and dragged the boys into little boutiques on Newbury with Harvey. Sungchan found a pink faux fur jacket and wore it for twenty minutes before the shop owner asked if you were planning on purchasing anything.

You ended your trip at a hole-in-the-wall record store where there was a photobooth hidden away inside. You took one group strip first, crammed shoulder to shoulder props half-falling off, the flash going off before you were ready.

You remember Sungchan's arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer at the last second. In one of the shots, you and Anton are smiling at each other and the rest of the frame is a blur of laughter and too many hands trying to hold up signs that said things like “hot stuff” and “assalicious.”

After that you and Anton took one together just the two of you. You don’t remember much about what you were doing (laughing probably) but you remember the feeling.

The warmth of him beside you in that cramped booth. The way he nudged the silly heart glasses higher on your head. You’d meant to keep the strips in your tote, maybe stick them on your mirror when you got home but now that his mom mentioned it…you must’ve left them in his car.

You clear your throat. “He’s nice,” you say carefully. “Funny. Cute, I guess. I don’t know if he’s interested though.”

She nods in understanding and asks Anton about the Country Club. You’re not shocked at how easily she jumps from questioning you about your love life to a casual conversation with her son about work.

No, what surprises you and catches you a little off guard though is that your heart doesn’t jump. It doesn’t flutter. Doesn’t twist or do any of the things it’s supposed to do when someone mentions a boy who might like you and that’s strange, isn’t it?

If you’re being honest, Sungchan was a highlight that day. He made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt when he tried to mimic a Boston accent and failed miserably. He offered to carry your tote bag without asking.

At one point, he walked beside you while you searched for somewhere to grab dessert and gently guided you away from an oncoming cyclist by your waist. It was the kind of casual touch that should’ve made your stomach flip but it didn’t. It was sweet. He’s sweet but that’s not what your brain lingers on.

You think about Anton standing at the boba shop counter, ordering and paying for your drink without needing to ask. You were all sitting along the curb outside, legs stretched out taking some polaroids. He didn’t even look at you when he slid the drink into your hand, just nudged your arm and said, “stay hydrated.”

You think about the matcha cream puff you couldn’t finish and how he took the last bite like it was nothing then wiped a bit of powdered sugar from your cheek. No one saw but it stuck with you.

There was also the walk back to the station. You were tired, arms full of snacks and shopping bags and Anton reached out without a word to take the heavier ones. A minute later, your hands brushed. Then again and on the third pass, he took yours gently and held it the rest of the way.

You also think about the tiny corner gift shop at the station, where you were killing time before the next train. You’d wandered off from the group, flipping through a rack of silly trinkets and keychains when Anton joined you, holding up a set of tiny peaches; one smiling, one frowning.

“So you don’t lose your keys,” he said, voice teasing but quiet.

You snorted. “You’re so annoying. I don’t lose my keys that often.”

But he still bought them.

Later that night on the train, he clipped the frowning one to your keys while you weren’t looking. You only noticed after he dropped you off at home and you pulled them out of your tote. The smiling one showed up a few days later, hooked to the strap of his duffle bag.

Anton doesn’t say anything. You glance over and he’s still eating but slower now. Focused a little too hard on pushing rice across his plate like it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

The conversation keeps going. His mom is asking about dessert. Junyoung’s already halfway through his second helping. His dad pours another glass of wine and says something that makes everyone laugh but it all blurs around you.

The truth is, your heart does flutter. It does twist and tighten and pull in that annoyingly dizzying way you’ve always associated with feelings you told yourself you didn’t have. They were so woven into everything that you didn’t notice when they shifted into something else. 

You look down at your plate and suddenly you’re not as hungry because it’s in that moment that it dawns on you…you’re in love with your best friend.

You stay quiet for the rest of dinner, laughing where you’re supposed to, answering questions when asked but your mind is still back there. Looping through little things—glances, touches, inside jokes that suddenly feel like more. Anton offers to drive you home. You nod.

The ride is quiet. The playlist from earlier still playing low. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and you pick at your cuticles.

“Sorry about my mom,” he says eventually, voice softer now. “She’s just nosy.”

You force a smile. “It’s fine. She’s sweet.” He glances over. You don’t meet his eyes. Your throat feels too tight.

When he pulls into your driveway, you unbuckle your seatbelt a little too fast. “Thanks again. For the ride and dinner.”

He starts to say something, maybe to ask what’s wrong but you’re already out the door, waving. “Night, Anton.”

You don’t mean for it to sound rushed but it does. You shut the door gently almost guiltily and don’t look back as you walk up your porch steps. He stays there for a beat before finally driving off.

The second you’re inside you drop your tote in the hallway and lean against the door. The realization crashes over you again like a wave. You’re in love with Anton.

You fumble for your phone, thumbs shaking slightly as you scroll through your contacts. The tears don’t fall right away. You rush up the steps into your bedroom to avoid facing your parents. Once you’re in your room you close the door and hit call.

It’s 10 PM your time somewhere past noon in Japan but Maya answers on the third ring, eyebrows raised and hair in a messy bun. “Hey! I was literally about to text—wait. What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

You open your mouth but the tears slip out before you can stop them. Maya sits up fast. “Wait—what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

You shake your head quickly, wiping at your cheeks. “I’m okay. I’m just—Maya…”

“Hey, hey, slow down, what happened?” She says softly, her voice losing its playfulness. 

“I think I’m in love with Anton.”

She pauses. Doesn’t tease. Doesn’t laugh. She just exhales like she already knew. “Okay.”

You sniff, surprised. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Tell me what happened.” She says.

You wipe your eyes and tell her everything. About the night of the storm, about dinner, about the hoodie, about the way it just hit you all at once. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. It’s so obvious now.”

Maya listens quietly, nodding like she’s been waiting for this call for years.

“But he doesn’t like me,” you add quickly. “Not like that. He’s never said anything and if I tell him it’ll ruin everything.”

Maya’s deadpan. “____. The boy gave up his summer to work a minimum-wage job at a country club with you.”

You frown. “It’s not like that. We’ve always done stuff together. It’s tradition.”

She actually scoffs. “Okay, what about the time he walked across campus in the rain just to bring you cough drops because your throat was sore? Or how he always waits outside your last class so you don’t have to walk back to the dorms alone, even when it’s freezing? He doesn’t do that for anyone else.” You open your mouth to argue but she keeps going.

“He’s the one who made you that dumb finals playlist when you were stressed remember? And brought you hot chocolate when your cramps were bad. He even learned how to fold your laundry the way you like because you hate when your shirts get wrinkled.”

She’s not even teasing anymore. She’s just listing things. Facts. Things you somehow forgot until now.

“He brings an extra hoodie to study nights without saying why, brings an extra charger in case you forget, reminds you to eat before exams, he carries your bag when your shoulder’s acting up.”

Each example lands a little heavier than the last. Maya gives you a second, then says softly, “All that isn’t just sweet. That’s someone who’s paying attention.”

She waits for you to say something but when you stubbronly stay silent she says. “That’s someone who’s equally in love with you.” You sniff in response.

It’s one thing to feel it, the persistent ache you’ve been brushing off all summer but it’s another to hear it spoken out loud. Plain, true and undeniable. Your voice comes out small. “But what if I’m wrong?”

“You’re not.”

“But what if I ruin everything?”

Maya doesn’t flinch. “Then you ‘ruin’ it for the right reason.” She says with air quotes.

You pull your knees to your chest, hoodie sleeves covering your hands. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t. You know him. Anton wouldn’t walk away just because things got complicated. He’s not wired like that.” She says gently.

Still, your silence stretches long. Maya’s voice softens even more. “Just sit with it. Don’t panic. I’m not saying confess your love tomorrow or anything.”

You let out the weakest laugh imaginable.

She smiles. “Just…think about it. Let it be true for a while. See what it feels like.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”

There’s a quiet beat between you, like the calm after the storm. Maya’s eyes are kind through the screen. She doesn’t say I told you so, doesn’t tease, just sits with you in the moment. Your phone buzzes and you glance down at the notification banner.

9:10 pm | sungchan 🐸: kickback @ mine tmr u losers in?

You read it twice. Maya notes your expression. “Groupchat?”

You nod. “Sungchan’s throwing something tomorrow.”

“You gonna go?”

“Yeah, I think I need the distraction.”  You murmur.

Maya hums. “It’ll be good. Just…don’t avoid Anton okay? He doesn’t know what you’re feeling. If you pull away now he might think it’s about him.”

You nod again. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Good and text me the second anything happens. Happy, awkward—whatever. I want updates.”

You smile and nod. “Thanks, Maya.”

“Of course, that’s what best friends are for. Now go to bed and call me tomorrow. I still want to finish our Vampire Diaries rewatch.”

You laugh. “You just want to yell at Damon again.”

“He deserves it.”

You hang up with a grateful goodbye then scroll back to the groupchat that’s now lighting up your lockscreen.

9:13 pm | harvey 👽: sungchan can u get more edibles and should i bring snacks 9:13 pm | sungchan 🐸: i’ll ask eunseok 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 9:14 pm |sohehe🕺🏻: i’ll bring beer 9:14 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: also can we crash at yours sungchan? don’t feel like driving after 9:16 pm | you: does ur house have a pool it’s gonna be 90 degrees 😭 9:16 pm | sungchan 🐸: duh. bring ur hottest bikini 😉

You snort and thumbs down the message.

9:17 pm | you: reported for harassment. 9:18 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: bro u flirt like a 2007 facebook status 9:20 pm | sungchan 🐸: y’all are just jealous i’m bringing the ✨vibes✨ 9:20 pm | ton 🦕: you’re bringing a headache. 9:20 pm | you: chat he’s already sighing and we haven’t even left the house 9:21 pm | ton 🦕: i’m sighing because i know i’ll be the one cleaning up after you gremlins 9:22 pm | you: anyways can someone bring uno 9:22 pm | harvey 👽: ooo and the karaoke mic 9:23 pm | sungchan 🐸: oh it’s so over for y’all 9:23 pm | ton 🦕: if you bring that mic i’m leaving 9:23 pm | you: you say that every time and you stay the longest?? 9: 24 pm | harvey 👽: and hog the mic like it’s your world tour 9:24 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: WHO is this diva 9:25 pm | sungchan 🐸: bro sings like simon cowell is in the room 9:25 pm | ton 🦕: i hate you all. what time should we be there 9:26 pm | sungchan 🐸: idk maybe like 1 9:27 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: i’m not bringing sunscreen someone better share 9:30 pm | you: i got u 🫦 9:31 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: 🫤 that emoji was unnecessary.

You’re about to turn off your phone when it starts buzzing again but this time with a FaceTime from Harvey. You answer and her face fills the screen framed by fairy lights and the beginnings of her skincare routine. She’s got one of those fluffy headbands on, the kind with little bear ears and she’s holding a popsicle like it’s a microphone.

“Heyyy,” she sings, already grinning. “Can I come over in the morning to get ready with you?”

You nod, shifting on your blanket. “Only if you drive to Sungchan’s.”

Harvey snorts. “Obviously. You act like I trust you behind the wheel of any vehicle.” You laugh and tell her to shut up, she laughs as well but then her expression shifts still playful, just a little more curious.

“Also, random question, what’s going on with you and Sungchan?” She asks, tilting her head.

You balk at her “Me and Sungchan?”

She shrugs, licking her popsicle. “I don’t know. Just…I’ve picked up on some flirting. Has something happened?”

You shake your head. “No. Not on my end at least. He’s just a cool friend.”

Harvey hums like she doesn’t entirely buy it but isn’t surprised either. “Cool. Still team Anton, though.”

Your breath catches slightly but you force a smile. “Harv…”

“What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.” She says with a lazy grin.

You don’t say anything to that. You could and you probably should but the words don’t come. Not yet, not when your heart still feels like it’s trying to catch up with itself.

“Anyway,” she says, glancing at the time, “I’ll be there at ten. Charge the karaoke mic.”

You nod. “Night, Harv.”

“Night, girly pop.”

The call ends and you set your phone facedown on the nightstand. You collapse onto your bed and stare up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow you’ll have to see him again smile like nothing’s changed and pretend everything hasn’t completely shifted beneath your feet. You roll onto your side, pressing your face into the hoodie he gave you, the sleeves still bunched at your wrists.

You don’t know what comes next, you don’t know what it’ll mean if he doesn’t feel the same. You don’t know if you’re ready to find out. For now, you just lie in bed still and silent, hoping that somehow when the sun comes up, you'll know what to do.

Jeju, 1955

The leaves fell like all leaves do. They fell from the trees, flowing, dancing, entangled in their own spirit as they drifted beneath our feet. That’s how they lived. That’s how they died. They didn’t have thoughts or feelings. They were silent against the winds and the tussling of the other trees. That’s how Chanyoung lived. He didn’t speak unless spoken to. He did what he was taught, obedient to his mother, father, and grandmother. He was a careful leaf amongst the wild ones. That’s just how his leaf fell. Until he saw her.

Her presence was different—something that disrupted the stillness of the falling leaves. She walked with a grace that seemed at odds with the weight of the world around them. Chanyoung, who had always been taught to follow and never stray, found himself watching her in a way that felt unfamiliar. He didn’t know why, but something about her caused the quiet rhythm of his life to shift.

“Chanyoung!” came the echoing voice of his mother as he walked (or rather, toddled) over with a basket of fish, holding them out to her as she looked at him with a stern face. “One. Two… four, five…” His mother sighed deeply as Chanyoung looked down at his feet. He knew what was coming. It always did.

“Why… go take it back, Chanyoung-ah. We barely have enough as it is,” his mother said sternly. His antics had aged her nearly twenty years with how often he gave fish to the Oh family.

“But… mother, they d-don’t—” he started.

“I don’t care,” she interrupted. “Her mother married into the Oh family. They are responsible for feeding her. Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t let your father know about this!” she yelled, steam practically coming out of her ears.

“Don’t you get it, Chanyoung?! We barely have enough!” she sighed heavily. “Next time, you give that… girl an extra fish, it’ll be yours , She’ll eat.” As his mother stormed off, Chanyoung didn’t think her words were that bad. If he had to go to bed hungry so that she could feel a little less ache in her stomach, he would. He would for her.

The wind howled through the trees as Chanyoung stood still, the basket of fish still clutched in his hands. His mother’s words echoed in his mind, but they didn’t make him feel the same way they made her feel. He didn’t understand why she had to be so angry. Wasn’t it enough that he gave what little he had to others? Why did his heart ache when he saw someone hungry, when he knew he could help?

He glanced toward the horizon, where the ocean met the sky, and for a moment, the wind seemed to whisper something just out of reach. He felt a strange pull, a sense that there was something more beyond the world he knew. Something bigger, something different.

As his feet shifted, he noticed the familiar rustle of the leaves once again. His thoughts turned back to her—the girl who seemed to exist outside the quiet pattern of his life. Maybe she was the one who would show him what it felt like to live differently, to think differently, to be different.

But before he could move, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned just in time to see her standing there, her silhouette framed by the pale light of the setting sun.

“She yelled at you again…didn’t she?”the girl asked,her small figure so bright in his eyes as he stared at het with a dopey look in his eyes.As she cleared her throat he quickly shook his head ‘no’ making her click her tongue and roll her eyes.

“Ofcourse she did, dont lie “she chuckled.Chanyoung could feel the tears start to blur his vision.What if she thought he was weak?What if she thought that boys who cry because of their mothers are dumb?What if she thought he wouldn’t be good enough because he cried.

“You're gonna cry aren't you?”shr giggles as he tearfully stutters “n-no ..mm I’m n-not”he sniffled .She pouted as he said this before standing closer to him.

The winds had gotten stronger.The tides more stronger aswell.

“Its okay channie….shh”she shushed him her smooth fingers caressing his round eyes.the salt of the illuminating on  her fingers.

The name.she had only called him ’channie’ once before.it was like his leaf had started to float more elegantly when he heard her voice utter his name.The melody of her voice was the wind and he was a mere leaf.

In that moment, he felt lighter than he had ever felt before, as if he could be swept away by the breeze, carried to a place where he could finally breathe. She made the world seem less harsh, less heavy. Her touch, soft and calming, seemed to pull him from the storm inside his heart, and for once, he didn’t feel so alone.

“You don't have …to give me it”she said.

The wind had suddenly stopped.his leaf once again falling,not floating.She didn’t get it.It wasn’t about the fish,It was about the fact that he wanted to show her that he cared.He wanted to show her how much he cared, how his heart beat around her .So fast, so heavy and quick. 

The silence between them stretched as Chanyoung stood there, still holding the basket of fish, his heart racing. The wind had stopped, but inside him, a storm raged. She didn’t understand. She thought it was about the fish, but it wasn’t. It was about so much more—about wanting to give something, anything, to someone who made him feel seen, made him feel like he mattered.

“I want to,” he whispered, barely audible against the quiet of the evening. His voice trembled as he stared down at the fish in his hands. “I want to give you something, even if it’s just this.” His words felt foreign on his tongue, like he wasn’t used to saying them, but they came from a place deep inside him, a place he’d never let anyone near before.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes searching his face as if trying to understand. “You don’t have to give me anything, Chanyoung,” she said softly, her tone gentle. “I know you care.”

But he shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he insisted, his voice cracking. “It’s not just about this. It’s about showing you that… that I care. That I want to be more than just the boy who follows orders. I want to be something else. I want to be someone who can make a difference.”

Her gaze softened as she stepped closer, her presence like a quiet promise in the stillness of the evening. She reached out, gently taking the basket of fish from his hands, her fingers brushing against his. The simple touch sent a jolt through him, a spark he didn’t know he needed.

“You already matter,” she said quietly, her voice steady and warm. “You don’t have to do anything to prove that.”

Chanyoung felt a weight lift from his chest, though the storm still churned inside him. She was right—he didn’t need to prove anything. He just needed to be. To be seen, to be heard, to be allowed to exist outside the confines of expectations.

But in that moment, as the sun dipped lower and the first stars began to flicker in the sky, he realized something. She was the one who had shown him what it meant to be free, to live differently.

She smiled at him, and it was like the world shifted once again.

“Chanyoung,” she said, her voice a soft melody in the quiet of the night. “You don’t have to be anything other than who you are.”

And for the first time in his life, Chanyoung felt like that was enough. Just being who he was, without the need for anyone else’s approval, was enough.

As the wind picked up again, this time gently, like a sigh against the earth, Chanyoung allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, his leaf could float a little longer. Maybe he could choose where it landed.

Jeju 1960

Autumn had left.Winter had arrived.It was funny to chanyoung how before he felt like a leaf that was floating.Now he was a leaf that was frozen.

Autumn had left and winter had arrived.His y/n’s happiness had come and left aswell.

Her once childish laugh had turned into a monotone silence.Her winter had started the moment her mother took her last breath.

The very reason he had met his y/n, the reason she was there with him for the past four years , had left.

Chanyoung stood by the window, staring out at the vast stretch of snow that covered the hills, a coldness settling in his chest. The world outside seemed as still as he felt. The leaves were long gone, replaced by the bitter, unyielding chill of winter. He had once felt like a leaf, floating in the wind, but now he felt like the frozen earth beneath the snow—trapped, cold, and unable to move.

He glanced to his side, where Y/N sat by the small fire in her  home. Her eyes, once bright with mischief and laughter, now seemed distant, as if she were looking through him rather than at him. The pain of her mother’s death weighed heavily on her, and despite his best efforts, he felt helpless in easing that burden. He had tried to be there for her, to remind her of the life and love they had built together, but nothing seemed to break through the wall she had built around herself.

It had been weeks since her mother passed away, but the silence between them  felt endless  Chanyoung missed her laughter, the way her presence had filled every corner of their life with warmth. He missed her touch, the way she would quietly find her way into his arms, seeking comfort and giving it in return. But now, there was only the weight of grief, and no matter how much he wanted to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, the words felt hollow.

He walked over to her slowly, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of snow outside. He knelt down beside her, gently taking her hand in his. She didn’t look at him, didn’t even acknowledge his presence, but he felt the soft, trembling warmth of her fingers against his, and that was enough for him to keep holding on.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a low murmur. “I’m here. I’m always here, for you. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but after a long pause, her voice, strained and weak, broke the silence. “I don’t know how to be… without her. I don’t know how to move forward.”

Chanyoung’s heart ached for her, but he knew that the only way to heal was to give her the space to grieve. He couldn’t rush her, couldn’t expect her to find her way back to the laughter they once shared in an instant. All he could do was stand by her side, offering his presence as a silent comfort.

“I can’t make it go away,” he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “But I can help you carry it. One step at a time.”

She finally met his gaze, her eyes still clouded with sadness, but there was something there—something flickering in the depths of her soul. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” she whispered.

“You are,” he said, his voice steady with the certainty that only love could bring. “You’ve always been strong. And I’m not going anywhere. We’ll face this together.”

She looked down at their hands, entwined in the quiet of the room, and a tear slipped down her cheek. He didn’t wipe it away. Sometimes, the best thing to do was simply let the tears fall.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same,” she said, her voice breaking. “I don’t know if I’ll ever laugh the way I used to.”

“You will,” Chanyoung replied, his voice soft but full of conviction. “It might take time, but you’ll find your way back. You’ll find joy again.”

She nodded slowly, her shoulders trembling as she exhaled a shaky breath. The winter might have come, but he wasn’t going to let it freeze her heart. He would stay with her, no matter how long it took. They would get through this winter together, and when the spring came, they would find the warmth of the sun once more.

For now, they sat together in the silence of the room, the fire crackling softly between them. The storm outside raged on, but inside, there was a quiet promise that no matter the cold, they would find a way to keep each other warm.

Soon spring would arrive.New leafs would bloom.Hopefully green.

Jeju 1965

Five years. 157,680,000 seconds. That’s how long he had spent comforting her. Through winter, through spring, through summer, through autumn. Through careful watering, her own leaf had started to bloom. Chanyoung could see it. He could see her smile shine as bright as the sun’s rays as she walked along the sands of Jeju.

Her laughter, once a distant memory, now rang out in the salty breeze, a melody that made his heart swell. It wasn’t the same childish giggle from their youth, nor the broken silence that had followed her mother’s passing—it was something new, something reborn. She was still Y/N, but stronger, carrying the weight of her grief with grace.

Chanyoung watched her from a distance, standing barefoot where the ocean kissed the shore. She had always belonged to the sea, much like the wind that carried the leaves. The way the water touched her ankles, swirling around her as if the waves themselves longed to embrace her, made him believe that she, too, had finally started to move forward.

He approached quietly, his hands buried in his pockets, feeling the fine grains of sand shift beneath his feet. She turned before he even spoke, as if she could sense his presence before seeing him. Her gaze met his, and for the first time in years, there was nothing heavy in her eyes.

“Y’know your mothers going to yell at you again” she said softly as she had a foreign look in her eyes he smiles back at her.Oh how he would reach towards the ocean and pick every coral out for her if he could.Just to see her smile.

“You’re so careless chanyoung…”she scoffs looking at her feet and kicking a rock “ If she…are you even listening”

No.He wasnt listening, he was spending his time staring at her memorise, each bump in her skin, the way her lips and nose were shaped.They were so beautiful .To him she was so beautiful.

A sigh broke him out of his trance as he looked at her with widened eyes, making her frown.

“You can’t just act so..out of it chanyoung…”her brows furrowed as she looked up at the sun , which was slowly going to sleep.”do you know what they say….”he knew.”they say that Lee chanyoung only wakes up to follow l/n y/n around” he turned his head sheepishly to the side.A chuckle escaped him, light and unbothered. Maybe it was true. Maybe his heart had only ever beat in rhythm with hers. Maybe every step he took was simply a response to where she led. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind.

“Do they?” he mused, tilting his head as if he truly had no idea.

She rolled her eyes, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “They do. They think you’ve never had a single thought of your own.”

Chanyoung hummed, considering. “That’s not true.”

She arched a brow, waiting.

“I’ve had at least one thought of my own.”

“Oh?” she crossed her arms. “And what’s that?”

“That I want to marry you.”

The wind carried his words, soft and easy, like the gentle push of waves against the shore.

She froze. He could see the way her breath hitched, how her hands twitched slightly as though she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Her lips parted, but no words came.

He smiled. For once, he had surprised her.

Chanyoung took a step closer, his fingers itching to reach for her, but he held back, giving her space. “I don’t care what they say, Y/N. I’ve followed you, yes, because I wanted to. Not because I had no mind of my own, but because my heart has always known where it belongs.”

She blinked at him, still caught somewhere between shock and something else—something softer, warmer.

He lifted a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. “You don’t have to say anything now. You don’t even have to answer me today. But just know that… if you’ll have me, I’ll spend every season, every year, choosing you.”

The sun had nearly set, painting the horizon in hues of deep orange and gold, the sky reflecting the warmth that now simmered between them.

Y/N looked at him then, really looked at him. At the boy who had once been a careful leaf, afraid to fall, afraid to be anything more than what was expected of him. But now, he wasn’t just a leaf. He was the wind itself, choosing his own path.

She exhaled, and when she smiled, it was as if spring had arrived again.

She huffed as she crossed her arms with a small pout “can’t.sorry” she said her lashes fluttering.Chanyoungs heart dropped as he stopped silent in his tracks .

“Huh”she looked back, her face held curiosity , as to why the boy looked like he was prey caught by his predator.

Can’t?” Chanyoung echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. The word felt foreign, unfamiliar—like a language he had never learned to understand.

Y/N turned fully to face him now, her expression unreadable. The way her lashes fluttered, the small pout on her lips—it wasn’t rejection, not entirely, but it wasn’t the answer he had been hoping for either.

His mind raced, searching for meaning in a single syllable. Can’t? Not don’t want to? Not no?

“Y/N…” He stepped forward, hesitant, as if one wrong move would send her slipping through his fingers. “What do you mean?”

She sighed, her arms tightening around herself as she looked away, staring at the last slivers of sunlight melting into the horizon. “I mean exactly what I said, Chanyoung.”

Frustration clawed at his chest. “That’s not an answer.”

She exhaled sharply, the weight of something heavy pressing against her shoulders. “You don’t understand—”

“Then help me.” His voice was firm now, steadier. “Because right now, all I understand is that I love you. That I want to build something with you. That I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Y/N swallowed, shifting on her feet. “It’s not about love, Chanyoung.”

“Then what is it about?”

She bit her lip, hesitant, before finally meeting his gaze again. 

“….I …I always promised myself I’d go back to seoul”she said, her eyes sunken ,”I promised my mum I…that i wouldn’t succumb to the pressures she did”her voice broke , just like Chanyoungs heart

“i want to marry someone from seoul!and ofcourse…become a poet”she said , the broken voice turning more monotone, as if she was trying to convince herself mire than him.

“Then lets stop this”cam his retort causing y/n to pause in her thoughts and look up at him

Her breath hitched, eyes widening just slightly. Stop this?

“What?” she whispered, barely believing the words had come from him.

Chanyoung held her gaze, his jaw tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “If you’ve already decided… if you’ve already written the ending to our story before we even had a chance to fight for it—then let’s stop this.”

The words felt like fire on his tongue, like something tearing at the seams of his chest. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to walk away. But if she was so determined to push him away, to convince herself that what they had wasn’t worth breaking promises over—then what was he supposed to do?

Y/N’s lips parted, but no words came out.

For the first time, she saw something in his eyes she had never seen before. A quiet kind of desperation, a plea hidden behind the hardness of his expression.

“You say you want to marry someone from Seoul,” he continued, voice strained. “That you want to be a poet, that you made a promise to your mother—but what about you, Y/N? What do you want?”

Her breath was shaky. “I—I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

His words were quiet, but they hit her harder than any shout could.

She did know. She had always known.

But knowing and choosing were two different things.

“I—” she started, but he didn’t let her finish.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” he said. “Tell me this—us—was never real. Tell me that, and I’ll walk away right now.”

Her heart stopped.

He was giving her an out. A way to make it all disappear, to end it cleanly, to go back to the life she had always planned for herself.

But when she opened her mouth, nothing came.

Because she couldn’t say it.

Because it would be a lie.

Chanyoung took a shaky breath, nodding to himself as if he already knew the answer. “That’s what I thought.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, hating how much he understood her. How easily he saw through the walls she had spent years building.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, voice small.

He furrowed his brows

“Scared?Scared of…of what”he said this time he grabbed the sides of her waist lightly , holding her like a fine piece of china.She was too delicate to be handled roughly in his eyes. A leaf still in bloom.

“…of dissapointing her”a teary voice.She put a hand on his chest as she looked up at him with a blue expression.Chanyoung stared back at her, understanding rooted inside him.

Chanyoung exhaled slowly, his grip on her tightening just slightly. Of disappointing her. He understood that feeling all too well—the weight of expectation, the fear of straying too far from the path someone else had drawn for you.

But he couldn’t stand to see her like this. So fragile, so caught between what she wanted and what she felt she should do.

“You won’t disappoint her,” he murmured, brushing his thumb gently over her waist. “Loving me… choosing me—it doesn’t take away from everything else you want, Y/N.”

Her lashes fluttered, unshed tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I know you. And I know that no matter where you go, no matter what you choose—you’ll make her proud.”

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt.

Chanyoung reached up, carefully tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you,” he said again, softer this time. “And if you tell me to, I’ll let you go. I’ll let you chase your dreams, go back to Seoul, marry whoever you think you’re supposed to. But just for a second, be honest with yourself.”

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding so loud she swore he could hear it.

He leaned in, just enough that she could feel his breath against her skin. “If none of that mattered—if it was just you and me, right here, right now—what would you choose?”

The question burned through her.

Because she knew the answer. She had always known.

You. I would choose you, a thousand times over.

Her lips parted, but before she could speak, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

And then—quiet, hesitant, like the first drop of rain before a storm—

“I would choose you.”

Those words were all it took for the gust of wind always following Chanyoung to push him forward—to close the space between them, to cup her face in his hands like she was something precious, something meant to be held close.

Her breath hitched as their foreheads touched, the warmth of him seeping into her skin, grounding her even as her heart felt like it might take flight.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that,” he whispered, his thumbs brushing over the apples of her cheeks, over the tears she hadn’t even realized had fallen.

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, the sound breaking at the edges. “Probably not as long as I’ve waited to say it.”

Chanyoung exhaled, something deep and full and relieved. “Then don’t take it back.”

Her hands found his wrists, fingers pressing lightly into his skin. “I won’t.”

It was a promise. One that made his heart ache in the best way.

And so, with the last light of the setting sun painting them in gold, Chanyoung closed the space between them, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that tasted like every unsaid word, every stolen glance, every moment that had led them here.

And for the first time, neither of them ran.

A month later

“No.”the very word ‘no’ from his mother weighed heavily on him as he looked at her with betrayal.

“why…shes…mother …shes-“ “an orphan.An orphan who is a burden on her step fathers family and will be on ours aswell”

Chanyoung felt the breath leave his lungs, like he had been struck in the chest.

His mother’s words rang in his ears, sharp and final. An orphan. A burden.

“Mother,” he said, voice tight, controlled, but barely. “You don’t even know her.”

“I know enough,” she replied coolly, sipping from the porcelain teacup in her hands as if they were speaking of something trivial. “She has nothing to her name. No family, no status, no future. Do you truly think you can build a life with a girl who has nothing to offer?”

Chanyoung’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. “She has me.”

His mother scoffed. “And what will that give her? Love?” She set the cup down with a soft clink, her gaze sharp as she looked at him. “Love does not put food on the table. Love does not build a secure home. You think with your heart too much, Chanyoung. You always have.”

He took a step closer, his jaw clenched. “Then maybe it’s time you stop thinking for me.”

His mother’s expression darkened. “Are you truly willing to throw everything away for her?”

His breath was heavy, uneven, but his answer came without hesitation.

“Yes.”

Silence fell between them, thick and suffocating.

His mother exhaled sharply, shaking her head in disappointment. “Then you are a fool.”

“Maybe,” Chanyoung admitted. “But if loving her makes me a fool, then I don’t want to be wise.”

He turned on his heel, not waiting for her response, not giving her another chance to rip apart the one thing in his life that had ever truly felt like his.

Because he had already made his choice.

And nothing—not his mother, not society, not even fate itself—would take her away from him.

“Lets run away..”came her meek suggestion when Chanyoung relayed the piercing words of his mother.He looked at her with confusion .

Run away?

“Run away?” Chanyoung repeated, as if the words themselves were foreign to him.

Y/N nodded, her fingers twisting together, a nervous habit he had come to recognize. “If we stay here, your mother will never accept us. She’ll never accept me.”

Chanyoung exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “And where would we go?”

“Seoul,” she answered immediately. “It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. Where I was meant to be.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she stood firm, searching his face for any sign that he would agree. “We could start fresh. Just us.”

He studied her, the way hope flickered in her eyes, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly.

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell her they could leave this town behind, escape the weight of expectations and disapproval. But something held him back.

“Y/N…” He sighed, stepping closer, brushing his hands over hers. “Running away doesn’t make the world disappear. My mother will still be my mother. The past will still be the past.”

“But we can build something new,” she insisted, her voice soft but sure. “Together.”

Chanyoung hesitated. He had spent his whole life being the son his mother wanted, the boy who never strayed too far, never questioned too much. He had followed Y/N like the tide follows the moon, drawn to her without question.

Could he finally take the step he had been too afraid to take before?

Could he leave everything behind for love?

He swallowed, then lifted a hand to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s run away.”

Seoul 1965

The train was comforting.The leaves sticking against the window as y/n’s smile lit up the dim train compartment.

“You’re so pretty” smiled Chanyoung, as he stared at his beloved who stared back with a giggle.

She giggled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” Chanyoung murmured, eyes soft as he reached for her hand. His fingers traced over hers, slow and deliberate, as if grounding himself in the moment.

Outside, the world blurred past them—rolling hills, scattered villages, the occasional lone figure standing by the tracks. It felt like a dream, like they had stepped into a new world where only they existed.

Y/N sighed contentedly, resting her head against his shoulder. “We’re really doing this.”

Chanyoung hummed, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of her hand. “Are you scared?”

She considered it for a moment. “A little.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Me too.”

She lifted her head to look at him, brow raised. “You? Lee Chanyoung? Scared?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course. But not because I regret this,” he clarified quickly. “Just… it’s a big change. A new life.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “A life we get to build together.”

The train rumbled beneath them, steady and unyielding. The sun had begun to set, casting warm, golden light into the compartment, bathing them both in its glow.

Chanyoung looked at her, and in that moment, he knew—no matter where they went, no matter what they faced—he would always follow her.

Seoul awaited. And so did their future.

The motel reeked. It was old and dingy, and it reminded Y/N of the old shack on the edge of her and Chanyoung’s neighborhood. The kind of place that was barely standing, where memories of a simpler, harder time lingered in the cracks of the walls. The air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and mold, the flickering neon sign outside casting an eerie glow through the cracked blinds.

Y/N hesitated at the threshold of the room, her eyes scanning the worn carpet and the mismatched furniture that looked like it had been salvaged from someone’s yard sale. The dim light from the single lamp in the corner hardly made the room feel any less oppressive.

Chanyoung stepped in after her, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. His face was unreadable, but she could feel the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders.

He looked around, his lips pressed into a thin line, and then turned to her. “It’s not much, but it’ll do.” His voice was low, a touch of defensiveness in it. He didn’t want her to think that he couldn’t do better, but they both knew the truth—they had nothing.

Y/N forced a small smile, stepping into the room fully and brushing the stray hairs from her face. “It’s fine,” she said, though her voice lacked the conviction she wished it had. She hadn’t been expecting luxury, but the bare, depressing nature of their surroundings was a reminder of just how far they had fallen.

Chanyoung crossed the room, his footsteps soft against the old carpet, and placed their bags on the bed. He turned to face her, his expression softening as he took in the way she was standing, a little too still, her eyes distant.

“Hey,” he said, walking over to her and gently lifting her chin so that she would meet his gaze. “We’re together, and that’s all that matters.”

She nodded, the truth of his words settling deep in her chest. “I know,” she whispered, her fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve.

There was a quiet moment between them, the kind that felt like time had slowed down, and in that stillness, Y/N realized something. Despite everything—the uncertainty, the danger, the lack of a clear future—being with Chanyoung made it all bearable. She would face anything with him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised softly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her.

Chanyoung’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his hands sliding around her waist. “And I’ll always choose you,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against hers.

Knock.Knock.Knock. A knock caused them to separate with a jump.

“Come in!”Chanyoung coughed as he wrapped his hand around his waist again.

The lady at the door had an odd smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stood there, holding a tray with bottles of soju and plates of samgyeopsal, the sizzling sound from the food filling the awkward silence between them. Her smirk was unsettling, like she knew something they didn’t.

“Compliments of the house,” she said, her voice dripping with an unfamiliar sweetness, though there was something in her tone that felt off, like she was saying more than what was on the surface.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, and Chanyoung, though still visibly tense, forced a polite smile. “We didn’t order anything,” he said, his voice firm but polite, trying to maintain control of the situation. The last thing they needed was to be caught in some strange game with a stranger who was too curious for her own good.

The lady’s smirk widened, and she stepped into the room without waiting for a response. She set the tray down on the small table between them, the sound of the soju bottles clinking together making the room feel even more claustrophobic.

“Well, we thought you two would enjoy it. It’s not every day such…young, beautiful guests pass through,” she said, her gaze lingering on both of them a little too long. “Just a little hospitality, for those starting a new journey.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication, and Y/N’s unease deepened. She shot a quick look at Chanyoung, who was already tense, his jaw clenched as if preparing for something he didn’t quite understand.

“We really don’t need this,” Chanyoung said, trying to keep his voice steady. He moved to pick up the tray, intending to return it, but the woman blocked his path with a raised hand.

“It’s not just a gift,” she said, her voice now colder, more cryptic. “I’d advise you not to ignore the signs when they’re so… clear.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. Her instincts screamed that something wasn’t right about the situation, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what was making her feel this way. Was it the woman’s presence? The strange hospitality? Or the weight of her words?

The woman’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at Y/N, before shifting back to Chanyoung. “Be careful. Some things are too tempting to resist, especially when you’ve got the world at your fingertips,” she said, her voice low now, as if speaking in a secret code only they could understand.

A heavy silence followed her words. Chanyoung stood frozen for a moment, caught in the strange tension, before he slowly set the tray back on the table. He wasn’t going to play into whatever game this woman was trying to pull them into.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said, his voice calm, though his eyes hardened with caution. He didn’t like the way this felt, didn’t like the odd sense of foreboding creeping into the room.

The woman’s lips twitched into a smile again, but it wasn’t a friendly one. She gave them one last lingering look before she turned on her heel, exiting the room without another word.

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Chanyoung and Y/N alone once again, the strange encounter hanging in the air like an unspoken warning.

Y/N slowly exhaled, her hands trembling as she ran them through her hair. “That was…weird,” she murmured.

Chanyoung nodded, his eyes dark with unease. “Something’s not right,” he said quietly. At his words her stomach growled as she looked at the food and chanyoung with a pout.

Chanyoung couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at the sound of her stomach growling, the tension in the room easing slightly at the unexpected sound. He turned his gaze back to her, watching the way she pouted, her eyes flickering between the food and him. It was the first time all day she had shown any hint of normalcy, and he couldn’t help but find comfort in it, despite the strange encounter.

“You hungry?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N nodded sheepishly, her eyes still lingering on the soju and samgyeopsal, her stomach making its presence known again. “I guess… maybe we should eat? I mean, it looks good,” she said, though her voice still had a hint of uncertainty.

Chanyoung studied her for a moment before his lips curled into a small, teasing smile. “You’re not worried about what the lady said?”

She shook her head, her pout deepening as she reached for one of the plates. “I’m more worried about starving,” she muttered, the faintest laugh escaping her lips.

Chanyoung shook his head, but he couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at his lips. He leaned forward, pouring them both a drink of the soju, trying to put the strange encounter out of his mind, if only for a moment. “We’ll eat,” he said firmly. “And we’ll deal with whatever happens next. But right now… I think you’ve earned a proper meal.”

She smiled at that, her gaze softening as she picked up a piece of the grilled samgyeopsal, taking a small bite. Her eyes brightened immediately, the taste rich and savory, a comfort in the midst of the uncertainty. “This is really good,” she said, her voice light, as though she could almost forget the tension that still clung to the room.

Chanyoung watched her for a moment, his heart lifting at the sight of her relaxed, even if just for a moment. He took a bite of the samgyeopsal himself, savoring the flavors as he leaned back, allowing himself to momentarily enjoy the simple pleasure of the meal.

For a brief moment, the outside world—the strange lady, the ominous atmosphere—faded into the background. It was just the two of them, sharing a meal, trying to find comfort in the middle of the unknown. 

Soon however his thoughts were replaced with haziness as one drink turned into two and two turned into three.

Y/n was no better as her eyes, hooded kept looking up and down.

“We need three kids”her whiny voice, the effects of soju clear as daylight within it.

“Mhmm” he hummed back , his cheeks tinted rose as he nodded to all the nonsense she babbled

Chanyoung couldn’t help but smile at Y/N’s tipsy state, her words slurring just a little as she leaned against the table, her eyes half-lidded in a haze of alcohol. She had always been so composed, so measured, and seeing her like this felt both amusing and endearing. He chuckled softly, watching as she absentmindedly reached for another piece of samgyeopsal, her hand unsteady.

“Three kids, huh?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, his voice light, though a flicker of something more serious crossed his mind. He hadn’t imagined settling down with anyone—not like this. But now, with Y/N, the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice slightly louder than before, her gaze intense despite the fog in her mind. “Three! A big family… one boy, two girls… or… I don’t know… but three sounds like a good number,” she giggled, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her.

Chanyoung’s face flushed even more at her words, the image of a bustling house with children filling his mind. It was a pleasant thought, but one that had always seemed so distant, so unrealistic. Yet now, as he watched her, as she leaned closer to him, her breath warm against his skin, he found himself imagining it too.

“I think we could handle three kids,” he teased, though his heart fluttered at the thought. “Mhhm we should start tonight”he chuckled.

She didnt respond, so he looked upnto see her staring at him with something in her eyes.

Desire?lust? whatever it was , it made her do something bold as she crawled closer to him , turned off the light and pushed his chest down onto the matress.

Next morning

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was warm, but the room felt even warmer with the quiet aftermath of the night. Chanyoung’s eyes fluttered open, his body heavy with the weight of sleep and something more—something deeper. The events of the previous night rushed back to him in a slow, disjointed blur, and he couldn’t help but smile softly, a little dazed.

Y/N was curled up beside him, her hair sprawled across the pillow, her face peaceful, though there was an undeniable softness to her expression, a sort of contentment he hadn’t seen in her before. He studied her for a moment, trying not to wake her, and yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She looked so different, so unguarded. In a way, she was more herself than he’d ever seen.

The air felt thick with the intimacy of their shared silence, and he slowly shifted, careful not to disturb her, as he reached for his phone to check the time. It was early, much earlier than he usually woke up, but something about the quiet of the morning felt… peaceful, almost sacred.

He couldn’t help but replay the events of the night in his head. The way she had taken the lead, so confidently, pushing him into something they hadn’t talked about, hadn’t planned, but both of them had seemed to crave. It was wild, it was unexpected, but it had also felt right—so right.

Chanyoung smiled again, his fingers brushing gently against the back of Y/N’s hand as he lay back down beside her, watching the rise and fall of her breath. Maybe it was foolish, or maybe it was exactly what they both needed. But as the warmth of the morning wrapped around them, he realized something he hadn’t expected to feel so soon: he was happy. And not just happy, but full in a way he hadn’t known before.

After a few minutes, Y/N stirred beside him, her body shifting slightly as she reached for the blanket. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a second, she looked confused, but then, she saw him and everything seemed to click back into place. Her lips curved into a lazy smile, a smile that spoke volumes more than words could.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice soft and still thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” he replied, his tone a little more serious than usual, but the smile tugging at his lips gave away the lightness in his heart.

She stretched, her body curling into his, seeking the warmth of his embrace. “So, three kids, huh?” she teased, her voice low and playful, though there was an underlying tenderness to her words.

As y/n stretched her arms, she noticed something.The leftover food was there,her nightie was there, but where in the world was the yellow polka dotted suitcase they had carried all the way from Jeju?

Y/N’s gaze flicked around the room, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scattered remnants of their evening: the half-eaten food, their clothes strewn about, and yet, the one thing that should have been there—their yellow polka-dotted suitcase—was nowhere to be found. Her heart skipped a beat as she sat up quickly, scanning the room again, more urgently this time.

“Chanyoung…” Her voice wavered with the first thread of concern. “Where’s the suitcase?”

Chanyoung blinked, still waking up as he rubbed his eyes. “What? The suitcase? It should be right there, by the door…”

But when he looked, the spot where the suitcase had been was empty. His heart sank as the fog of sleep cleared, and he quickly pushed himself up, looking around the room as if the suitcase might suddenly reappear. There was no sign of it anywhere.

“Wait, did you…?” He stopped himself mid-sentence, his mind racing to figure out what had happened. The suitcase hadn’t just disappeared.

Y/N stood up, her feet hitting the cold floor as she began to pace nervously. “I swear it was there when we went to bed… But now it’s gone.” She rubbed her temples, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

Chanyoung stood too, moving to check the door. It was locked, just like they had left it. “It must have been taken… Maybe we left it outside or—”

“Do you think we were robbed?” Y/N interrupted, her voice rising in worry. “Who would do that? We didn’t see anyone last night.”

“I don’t know…” Chanyoung said, frustration creeping into his voice. “This doesn’t make any sense. We didn’t bring it inside the motel because it was late, but we definitely didn’t leave it outside.”

A cold shiver ran down Y/N’s spine. The possibility of someone sneaking into their room felt real, too real. She glanced over at Chanyoung, meeting his eyes, and in that moment, a quiet, unspoken understanding passed between them.

“We need to find it,” she said firmly. “I don’t care what we have to do, but we need to get that suitcase back.”

Chanyoung nodded, already moving towards the door. “I’m with you. Let’s check with the front desk first. Maybe someone saw something.”

The two of them stepped out into the hallway, their hearts pounding in synchronicity as they walked toward the front desk. As they approached, the same lady from last night looked up at them with an odd smile that seemed more calculated than welcoming.

“You two look a little… different this morning,” she said, her tone dripping with something unreadable.

Y/N felt her stomach churn at the woman’s gaze, but Chanyoung didn’t miss a beat. “We need to ask about a yellow polka-dotted suitcase. Did you happen to see it or—”

The lady merely chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down both their spines.”oh please as if i would know where it is”she said giving them a passing glance. Y/ns mind was once aagin clouded worry until she saw somthing that bloomed a rage in her heart.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes locked onto the ring. The sight of it—the familiar, delicate band that had once belonged to her mother—was like a dagger twisting in her chest. The woman’s finger glittered with the ring, an object Y/N had only brought with her in the suitcase to keep it safe, never intending to part with it. Her stomach churned, the rage rising within her like a tidal wave.

“Chanyoung,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and fury. She tugged on his sleeve, pulling his attention to the woman’s hand.

Chanyoung followed her gaze, his expression darkening as he saw the ring. His jaw clenched, the sharp surge of protectiveness and anger surging through him. “That ring…” he began, his voice cold as ice, “where did you get that?”

The lady’s smirk faltered for a split second, but she quickly regained her composure. “Oh, this? It’s just a ring. Can’t imagine what’s so special about it.”

Y/N stepped forward, her fists clenched, the anger boiling inside her. “That’s my mother’s ring,” she spat, her words harsh and sharp. “You took it from our suitcase. You—”

The woman’s smile twisted into something more sinister. “Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy, “You really don’t understand, do you? I didn’t take anything from you. I just… found it.”

Y/N’s pulse raced. “Found it? In our suitcase? You knew exactly what you were doing.” She took another step forward, her hands trembling with fury. “Where is the suitcase?”

The woman’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it, only cold amusement. “Why don’t you go ahead and look for it?” she said, waving a hand dismissively, but her eyes gleamed with malice. 

Y/N felt the heat of her rage build to a boiling point, but Chanyoung, sensing the danger, placed a hand on her arm, holding her back. His grip wasn’t harsh but firm, a silent plea for restraint. “Let me handle this,” he said quietly, his voice calm but edged with something dangerous.

Y/N looked at him, still seething, but she nodded, trusting him to take control of the situation. “Fine,” she muttered, stepping back slightly.

Chanyoung turned to the woman, his gaze hardening. “You’re going to show us where it is. Now.” His tone was low, commanding, and there was no room for argument.

The lady raised an eyebrow, her amusement flickering for a moment before she sighed dramatically. “Fine,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Follow me.”

She led them down a narrow hallway, her heels clicking sharply on the tile floor. The atmosphere in the motel was oppressive, the air thick with the scent of dust and mildew. The walls seemed to close in on them as they walked deeper into the building, and every step Y/N took felt heavier, the unease creeping back into her chest.

When they reached a small, dimly lit room at the end of the hall, the woman gestured for them to enter. The room was cluttered with old furniture, stacks of magazines, and boxes that hadn’t been touched in years. At the center of it all was a lone, small table, and on it, Y/N’s yellow polka-dotted suitcase sat innocently, as though nothing had happened.

Y/N’s heart raced as she stepped forward, her eyes locked on the suitcase. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the handle, the familiar weight of it sending a rush of memories flooding back. She turned it over in her hands, but before she could open it, the woman’s voice interrupted.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” she said, a twisted smirk still playing on her lips. “I think we need to have a little chat first.”

Chanyoung stepped between them, his eyes sharp and unwavering. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but we’ve had enough. Where’s the rest of our stuff?”

The woman’s eyes flickered, her smug expression wavering for just a moment before she recovered. “All in good time, darling. All in good time.” She paused, as though savoring the tension in the air. “But you might want to be careful. People like you—so quick to make accusations—don’t always come out of things like this unscathed.”

Y/N felt a cold shiver run down her spine, but she refused to back down. “We’re not leaving without everything that belongs to us,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.

Chanyoung nodded, his jaw set. “We’ll see about that.”

“Give it”he states this time calmly as she frowns

“No you idiot, i wont just give it to you”she scoffs.

Chanyoung’s eyes darkened as her words hung in the air, but his calm demeanor remained unshaken. “I didn’t ask for your permission,” he said, his voice laced with an icy undertone that made the woman pause.

Y/N stood behind him, fists clenched at her sides. Her heart raced, the tension thickening the air. The woman’s defiant posture only fueled her anger, but she held herself back, trusting Chanyoung to handle the situation.

The woman scoffed again, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. “You think you can just waltz in here and demand whatever you want?” Her voice was harsh, filled with mockery, but there was something in her eyes—a flicker of fear she quickly tried to hide.

Chanyoung took a step forward, closing the distance between them with an unsettling calmness. “I don’t care about what you think you have, but what’s in that suitcase doesn’t belong to you. You will give it to me,” he said, each word deliberate, like a promise—or a warning.

The woman faltered, her gaze shifting between Chanyoung and Y/N, the control she’d once had slipping through her fingers. “You think you’re threatening me? You don’t know who I am,” she sneered, but the edge of her voice trembled, betraying her bravado.

“I don’t care who you are,” Chanyoung said, his tone suddenly cold. “But you will not get away with this.”

Y/N could see the slight shake of the woman’s hands now, the nervous twitch in her eye. She had underestimated them—underestimated Chanyoung. She had thought she could intimidate them with her power in this tiny, dingy motel, but Chanyoung was no longer the same boy who was easily pushed around.

The woman’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she considered defying him. But something in Chanyoung’s unflinching gaze made her reconsider. She was no match for his quiet resolve.

With a huff, the woman grabbed the suitcase from the table and thrust it toward them, her face twisted in frustration. “Take it, then. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she spat, as if the very act of giving it back was a personal defeat.

Chanyoung reached out and took the suitcase from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers for a split second. The woman glared at him, but Chanyoung didn’t react. 

He turned to y/n , grabbing her wrist with his free hand”lets go”his voice smooth as he dragged the shocked girl out of the worn down building.

Lee Chanyoung, the boy who never once raised his voice a decibel more than his normal saccharine tone, spoke to someone harshly.The Americans were right, the 60’s were a time of unexpected events.

As they walked.No as they sprinted out , she let out a hearty laugh.Like a domino he did the same as they both stood there.

Silence.

The silence was nice.it was quiet.It was nice.

Until it wasn’t.Blares of sirens were heard in the alley as the women came rushing towards them, two officers in tow .

“it was them!They took my ring…my bag…my ring”her ‘tears’cascaded down her face as she pointed at them.

Chanyoung’s grip tightened on the suitcase as he pulled Y/N closer to him. His eyes, once soft, now hardened, scanning the approaching scene with rapid calculation. The woman’s tears looked more like a performance than genuine emotion, and Chanyoung knew immediately that they were being set up.

“Don’t listen to her,” Chanyoung said, his voice sharp, each word calculated. He stepped in front of Y/N, shielding her from the officers as they approached. “She’s lying. We paid for the room and were just about to leave.”

The officers looked at each other, uncertain. The woman’s accusations were clear, but something about the way Chanyoung stood—so calm, so unyielding—made them hesitate.

“She’s lying,” Y/N echoed, her voice gaining strength now that she could feel the heat of the situation rising. “I don’t know why she’s doing this, but she’s lying.”

The officer in front raised an eyebrow, scanning their faces. “Do you have anything to back up your story?” His gaze flicked to the suitcase in Chanyoung’s hand, then to Y/N, who looked every bit the innocent victim.

Chanyoung’s gaze never wavered. He placed the suitcase on the ground beside him with a soft thud, meeting the officer’s eyes with unwavering confidence. “I don’t need anything to back up my story. The truth is, the only thing we’ve done is walk out of a room we paid for.” He turned his attention to the woman, who was still fake-sniffling, playing her part. 

“Oh please officer, you can tell their in some sort of run away teenage  gang”she sniffled”taking …my stuff …can’t believe it”the lady sobbed.

Y/n gasped as she scowled “if were gangsters …you ..you BITCH! “ she covered her mouth as everyone looked at the girl in shock.

“…what… she meant ”chanyoung shook his head .What did she mean to say? 

“No!Lemme speak channie!You had no problem offering us a room and getting us ,’teenagers’ drunk”the girl screamed, her lungs aching.

The women gasped “excuse you! i have never…EVER done such a thing! Officer you know me!the women rambled.

The two men looked at eachother.sighed.And then told the two eighteen year olds they had the right to remain silent.

In the police station, the sterile, cold walls felt like they were closing in on Chanyoung and Y/N. The tension was thick in the air as they sat in one of the dull, gray interrogation rooms. The metallic scent of the room lingered in the air, and the hum of fluorescent lights above them added to the oppressive atmosphere.

Chanyoung leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the table. He had not said a word since they’d been brought in. Y/N sat beside him, her hands clasped together tightly on her lap, trying to steady her breathing. The adrenaline that had fueled her earlier was now replaced with a sense of dread, the silence in the room weighing on her.

Her outburst still echoed in her mind. She couldn’t believe she had said that to the woman, but the anger had taken over. The woman had gone too far, and Y/N just couldn’t let it slide. The way she had twisted the truth, trying to paint them as criminals—she had lost it.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Y/N whispered, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft but filled with frustration. “We just wanted to leave. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

Chanyoung glanced at her, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softened as he spoke. “I know. But she’s not going to get away with this. I won’t let her.”

Y/N nodded, her heart still racing. “I don’t understand. Why would she lie like that? What did she want from us?”

Chanyoung paused for a moment before answering, his voice low. “I think she saw an opportunity to manipulate the situation. We came in, young and alone, and she thought she could use us for whatever reason. Maybe she was trying to intimidate us into paying her off, or she just wanted to cause trouble. People like her don’t care about the truth.”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to hold back the wave of emotion threatening to crash over her. She had never felt so helpless, so vulnerable. “I just want to go home.”

Chanyoung reached over and placed his hand on hers, squeezing it gently. “We will. We’ll get through this. It’ll be okay.”

Just then, the door to the room opened, and a stern-faced officer stepped inside. His eyes flicked briefly to the two of them before he sat down opposite them, placing a file on the table.

“You two punks think your funny, huh?”the officer scowled making the young girl frown.

“I told you we didnt-!”she was cut off”Thats what they all say….you two are runaways tho” he said , the smirk on his face was so punchable.

Chanyoung’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t let the officer’s words rattle him. Instead, he leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. “We’re not runaways. We paid for a room at that motel. We didn’t steal anything. Whatever the woman is claiming—”

The officer cut him off again, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t steal anything, kid. You just walked out with a suitcase that didn’t belong to you, right?” He leaned back in his chair, a smug expression playing on his lips.

Y/N’s fists clenched in frustration. “We didn’t steal it!” she snapped, her voice rising. “ IT WAS OURS! She was the one who took the suitcase. She was the one trying to scam us. We’re not criminals!”

The officer’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Sure, sure. That’s what they all say. But you know what? You two are both here now, and I’m gonna make sure I get the truth out of you.”

Y/N shot a look at Chanyoung, her eyes wide with anxiety. She had never been in a situation like this before, and her heart was pounding in her chest. The officer’s taunting words were starting to get to her, making her feel small and helpless.

Chanyoung, however, remained unshaken. His gaze locked onto the officer’s, his voice low and controlled. “You can ask whatever you want, but I’m not lying. We’ve done nothing wrong. If you want to keep us here, you’re going to have to make a real case against us. Otherwise, we’re leaving.”

The officer’s smirk faltered for just a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. “You’re both staying here for now.”he says with a smack of the behind of chanyoungs head with a clipboard.Then again and again and again.He was about to switch targets and hit his y/n. 

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock, her body freezing as the officer raised the clipboard once again, targeting her this time. The sound of the slap echoed in the small room, the impact harsh against Chanyoung’s head. Her heart pounded in her chest as she instinctively stepped forward, her voice coming out in a sharp breath.

“Stop!” Y/N shouted, her hand flying out to protect Chanyoung, who was already wincing from the repeated blows.

The officer’s eyes glinted with malice, his expression twisting into a sadistic grin. “What, you think you can stop me?” he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “I can do whatever I want. You two are just kids trying to get out of a mess you got yourself into.”

Chanyoung’s hands clenched into fists, his calm demeanor now visibly cracking. The pain from the hits was one thing, but watching the officer approach Y/N made his blood boil. He moved in front of her before the officer could strike again, blocking her from view, his chest rising and falling in quick, controlled breaths.

“Don’t touch her,” Chanyoung’s voice was low, full of restrained fury. “You want to hit her ? You’ll have to hit  me first.”

The officer’s grin faltered, but he stepped forward nonetheless, the clipboard raised. “So what? You think I’m afraid of you, boy?”

Before the officer could act, the door to the interrogation room flew open with a loud bang, and another officer entered, his eyes sharp and piercing. He surveyed the scene, his gaze narrowing when he saw the raised clipboard and the tense standoff between Chanyoung, Y/N, and the first officer.

“What’s going on here?” the new officer demanded, his voice commanding attention.

The first officer quickly dropped the clipboard, stepping back as if nothing had happened, a forced smile creeping onto his face. “Just handling some unruly suspects here,” he muttered, but the new officer was not fooled.

“Unruly suspects, huh?” The new officer’s gaze flicked between the first officer and the young couple, then back to the clipboard. 

“Lee Chanyoung?” He says pointing to chanyoung. A nod.

“You ran away from Jeju..you punk”the officer smirked.”Your mum’s waiting outside for you and ….your girlfriend”

Chanyoung’s heart skipped a beat, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The mention of his mother caught them off guard, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted. The new officer’s words were sharp, the smirk still lingering on his face as he stood there, arms crossed.

“Excuse me?” Chanyoung’s voice came out strained, his mind racing. He hadn’t seen or heard from his mother in weeks. Why would she be here now? And how did the officer know about Y/N? His gaze darted to Y/N, who looked just as confused and worried as he felt.

“You heard me,” the officer repeated, his eyes cold. “Your mother came all the way from Jeju to pick you up. She’s outside waiting, along with your girlfriend, I believe.” His words were loaded with something more, a hint of mockery underlying the surface.

Y/N clenched her fists, her protective instincts flaring up. “My mother?” Chanyoung finally said, unable to hide his disbelief. “She… she’s here?”

The officer didn’t answer directly, instead letting the silence fill the space between them. Chanyoung stood there for a moment, processing the unexpected revelation, his mind swirling with thoughts about what was happening. Why would his mother suddenly show up at a police station in the middle of everything? And why bring Y/N into it?

He glanced at Y/N again, his heart tightening when he saw the concern in her eyes. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing on them both.

“She can’t be here. She has no idea—” Chanyoung began, but the officer interrupted him with a snide chuckle.

“You’d be surprised what people know when they’re looking for you,” the officer sneered. “She’s just outside. You two want to go talk to her? Or would you prefer to sit here while we sort this out?” The officer’s tone was dismissive, almost as if he were enjoying the uncomfortable tension that filled the room.

Y/N’s grip on Chanyoung’s hand tightened. She could feel the knot in her stomach growing, and the thought of facing his mother now made her feel nauseous. She hadn’t even known about Chanyoung’s family situation. They had kept things so quiet between them, and now this—everything was unraveling in a way neither of them could have anticipated.

“Let’s just go see her,” Chanyoung said, his voice cold. The last thing he wanted was to let this officer drag them through more of this mess, but he knew that the sooner they handled this, the sooner they could leave.

The officer gave a small nod, his expression shifting into something more calculated. “Follow me.”

As they walked down the sterile hallway of the station, the quiet footsteps echoed in the silence. Chanyoung could feel the eyes of the officer on him, and his mind raced with what was about to unfold. His mother, waiting outside, was a mystery he couldn’t yet solve. And with Y/N beside him, he had to figure out how to handle the situation without making it worse.

When they reached the exit, the officer pushed open the door, and there, standing just outside, was his mother. Her face was stern, her posture rigid as she watched them approach. Her eyes locked onto Chanyoung’s, and then she turned to Y/N, offering a brief, cold nod.

Chanyoung’s heart sank as he met his mother’s gaze. The confrontation he’d been avoiding for so long was finally here.

“Chanyoung,” his mother began, her voice steady but laced with something sharp. Suddenly his mother hit him, once , twice, multiple times making him wince.

“Chanyoung stumbled back, his cheek burning from the slap, his mind reeling in shock. His mother’s hand trembled with barely-contained anger, and the sound of each slap echoed in the air. He could hardly believe this was happening, the woman who had always been his mother—his protector—now standing in front of him like a stranger, her fury overwhelming him.

Y/N flinched, her head still bowed, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on her chest. She hadn’t expected this kind of response, but it was clear that Chanyoung’s mother had no intention of backing down. Every harsh word, every slap, felt like it was directed at both of them, but she remained silent, unsure of what she could say to make it better.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” his mother spat, her voice trembling with frustration. “Your grandmother, your father, we’ve been out of our minds, searching for you. And now, you’re here with her?” She glared at Y/N, her eyes filled with disdain. “You think this… this girl is worth ruining everything for?”

Chanyoung wiped his cheek, his heart hammering in his chest. The shock was slowly morphing into anger. He had always known his mother had expectations for him, but this? This was something else entirely. She had never struck him before, never shown this kind of raw hatred. It felt like the foundation of his entire life was crumbling before his eyes, his world shifting beneath his feet.

“Stop,” Chanyoung finally managed, his voice quiet but laced with steel. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

His mother scoffed, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, so now you’re defending her? You think I’m going to stand here and let you ruin your future for a girl who has no place in our family? No place in your life? You’re better than this, Chanyoung. You were better than this.”

Y/N could feel her throat closing up. She wanted to speak, to defend Chanyoung, to tell his mother that they were happy, that they didn’t need her approval, but the words wouldn’t come. The tension in the air was suffocating, and no matter how hard she tried to steady herself, it felt like she was drowning in it.

Chanyoung stood tall, despite the sting on his face. “I don’t need you to approve of my decisions, Mom. I don’t need you to tell me who I can or can’t be with. I’m not a child anymore. I’m making my own choices, and this—” he gestured between himself and Y/N “—this is my choice.”

His mother’s face twisted with disbelief. “So, this is how it’s going to be? You’re going to run away with her, pretend like nothing matters?”

“I didn’t run away,” Chanyoung replied firmly, his voice growing louder with each word. “I left because I don’t want to live my life based on your rules anymore. I’m tired of trying to be someone I’m not, for you, for Dad, for anyone. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough.”

There was a long silence. His mother looked as though she had been struck by his words, the harshness of his tone cutting through the tension in the room. But the silence was short-lived, replaced by an expression of cold resolve.

“If this is what you want,” she said, her voice eerily calm, “then fine but don’t bring shame to our family.Marry her properly especially if you've already…”his mother turned red at her own words.

“I….” He looked at y/n.The wind was blowing strongly that day, the leaves floating around like a spirit free to roam the underworld.

A month later

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, the puffy white gown glowing in the soft light of the room. She twirled a little, laughing at the way it made her feel. It was a moment of pure happiness, an escape from everything that had been weighing them down. The month that had passed since that heated argument had been tumultuous, full of difficult decisions and questions they hadn’t yet answered.

Chanyoung stood by the door, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched her with a look of adoration in his eyes. Even his mother’s harsh words couldn’t dampen the way his heart swelled seeing her so happy, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.

“I like this dress,” Y/N giggled, spinning once more, her eyes glinting with excitement.

His mother, standing in the corner of the room, was far less impressed. “Wow, a new dress,” she muttered under her breath, her gaze sharp as she shot Y/N an assessing look. “In times where we barely have enough to survive,” she added, shaking her head, making Y/N falter slightly.

The laughter that had filled the room immediately dimmed. Y/N’s smile wavered, and she looked down at the dress in her hands. The sting of his mother’s words cut deeper than she expected.

Chanyoung coughed, stepping forward to stand beside Y/N. His voice, though gentle, carried a weight of firmness. “Get whatever you want, darling,” he said, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “If it makes you happy, it’s worth it.”

His mother opened her mouth to retort, but Chanyoung’s voice stopped her before she could say anything. “Yes, we’re poor, but I’m not asking you to understand. I’ve spent my whole life working for this, for the chance to make this woman happy. I’ve loved her since I was eight. Every second of my life, every day, every year, has led me here.”

His mother was silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Y/N felt the shift, the quiet defiance in Chanyoung’s stance. There was something in the air between them now—an unspoken promise that no matter what came their way, they would face it together.

She smiled at him, her heart swelling with love and appreciation for him. “Thank you,” she whispered, stepping into his embrace, the world outside seeming to fade away in that moment.

Chanyoung kissed her forehead gently, his voice low and sincere. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N. You’re my everything.”

Jeju 1966

Jeju 1966

“AHHH!” Y/N screamed, her body tensing as waves of pain crashed over her. She clenched her fists tightly, her knuckles white, every muscle in her body straining to handle the intensity of the contractions. The room around her seemed to blur, the walls closing in as the pain radiated from her abdomen.

The doctor and nurse stood above her, their voices calm and soothing as they reassured her, trying to keep her grounded. “You’re doing great, Y/N,” the doctor said, his tone steady. “Just a little longer. You’re almost there.”

The nurse, her gentle hands guiding Y/N through the contractions, nodded in agreement. “Breathe, sweetheart, breathe. Focus on your breath. You’re strong. You’ve got this.”

But Y/N could barely hear them over the roaring sound in her ears, her body consumed by the unbearable pain. She squeezed her eyes shut, doing everything she could to hold onto the pieces of herself that felt like they were slipping away.

Then, through the haze of pain, she felt it—Chanyoung’s hand, warm and steady, wrapping around hers. She opened her eyes to see him standing by her side, his face pale but determined, his eyes full of love and encouragement.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice soft but strong. “I’m right here, Y/N. You’re not alone.”

Her chest tightened, and for a moment, the pain seemed to dull as she focused solely on him. His presence was a lifeline, pulling her through the worst of it. He wasn’t going anywhere, not now, not ever.

A sudden, sharp contraction hit, and Y/N gasped, her body arching in response. The nurse hurried to adjust her position, but Y/N barely registered it, her focus entirely on the pain, on the feeling that this moment would define everything.

“You’re doing great,” Chanyoung encouraged again, brushing the sweat from her forehead, his hand never leaving hers.

Y/N’s vision blurred with tears as the intensity of the moment reached its peak. The pain was overwhelming, but somehow, she felt a sense of peace in knowing that the moment they’d been waiting for was finally here.

The room became a whirlwind of motion, the doctor giving instructions, the nurse checking her vitals, and Chanyoung holding her hand through it all. It felt like time slowed as Y/N took a final, deep breath, gathering all the strength she could muster.

“One more push, Y/N. You’re so close,” the doctor urged gently.

With everything she had left, Y/N pushed. The room was filled with the sound of her cries, the effort of her body reaching its breaking point. And then, with one final surge, there was a shift—a release—and suddenly the room was filled with a new sound.

The first cry of their baby.

Y/N collapsed back onto the bed, utterly exhausted, but the smile on her face was undeniable. Through the haze of pain, she heard Chanyoung’s voice, choked with emotion, whispering, “We did it, Y/N. We did it.”

The nurse gently placed the tiny bundle in Y/N’s arms, and for the first time, she held their child, their perfect little one. She looked down at the tiny face, so fragile and new, and her heart swelled with love.

Chanyoung leaned over, kissing her forehead, his eyes glistening with tears of his own. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered, gazing at their daughter.

Y/N smiled weakly, her heart overflowing with love for both of them. “She’s everything.”

“Lee Ae sun”chanyoung smiled 

Seunghan, unlike what many think, gets easily bored of people.

He doesn't know if it has something to do with his mbti or whatever people talked about those days, but what he knows is that, since he was young, he’s liked to know people, but he also got quickly tired of them.

For him, it was easy to start the communication, and with that he doesn’t mean being the first one saying hello or introducing himself, he hated being the one making the first step, but he liked to be the first one doing the real questions. Seunghan would prefer to say he was naturally curious, but he wasn’t, he wanted to know what people’s hobbies and thoughts were with the purpose of learning how to behave and what to say to them, because more than curious, he liked to be liked.

There wasn’t anything he disliked more than useless problems and uncomfortable moments with people he didn’t care enough about, so for his own peace, and to maintain the harmony around him, he preferred to just please others.

He knew he had a talent not many had, making people comfortable came to him almost like breathing, and, therefore, many wanted to stay around him, but not many got the privilege of staying for long.

It was hard to keep him entertained, so it was common to see different people flying around him, whether he was the one talking or listening, it didn’t matter, people felt attracted to his presence, and he enjoyed the attention even when he didn’t say anything at all, so he let them approach him, but if they didn’t have anything else to offer than their company, he’d go and find another person that picked his interest until he got bored and repeated the cycle again. Still, even knowing they wouldn’t last long, everyone wanted to stay by his side, and they would work hard for it, but if Seunghan didn’t want them in his space, he’d softly push them away by filling their roles with other characters, and not finding their place beside him anymore, they’d slowly leave him without making a scene.

To your luck, or disgrace, you somehow had caught his interest this time.

As expected, after you caught his attention, he decided to dig as much as he could about you, however, what was unexpected, was the kind of person you were and how you caught his attention.

He had a type for everything, at his age he knew enough about what he usually liked. He liked smart opinionated people who always had something to say, he liked how being seen with them always elevated his status and profile in everyone else’s eyes, so they were most of the people that always flocked with him, and of course, that included pretty girls with energetic voices. The way they would follow the conversation with witty remarks and would understand his humour left a lingering feeling of satisfaction he tried to savour as long as he could when he flirted with them, and he couldn't deny it, he was a sucker for pretty faces, he loved the way their smiles would shine and illuminate the room, and how they matched his eagerness for the public attention.

Surprisingly, in the curse of his life, he hasn't had a ton of dates, he’s had his fair share of relationships and an impressive quantity of received confessions, but he carefully chose who to give such opportunity to before he decided to accept the other's feelings. Going out with him had to bring something into his life for him to decide they were good enough to receive his time and effort, and since he knew how easily he could get tired of them, they had to make him think that he would enjoy their presence for at least a decent period of time.

He's never had to chase anyone, he's always been the chased one, or he was until you arrived, and what bothered his mind every time he ran to you was that you weren't his style at all.

You didn’t check any of his boxes.

In first place, you weren't energetic at all. You never matched his conversations with equal happiness, you didn't understand his jokes most of the time and you didn't even try to continue the flow of his conversations. With no remarks and no comments, you'd let the contact die as soon as you could, which always itched something in the back of his head. He can even remember what your first messages looked like. He would send two or three lines of whatever went through his mind, being extremely polite to you as his classmate, wishing to be on your good side, and you would answer with the driest ok he had ever seen in his life.

Hi, just a quick question, what do you think about moving the meetings to my house? I think it'd be better for all of us since none of them would have to pay for coffee and I have everything we might need in my place, it's just something that went through my mind and I wanted to send it to the group chat but I know you live kind of far from here so I wanted to ask you first, so what do you think?

Ok

He still gets annoyed when he remembers your past messages.

In second place, you weren't the bright person he usually liked to hang out with. You would never make anyone turn back to see you twice, sometimes they wouldn't notice you even if you were in front of them, and you'd often get ignored if he didn't repeat your comments while working together, which honestly impressed him since you only talked if you had something useful to say, so he would expect others to stay silent when you showed intentions of entering the conversation, but your voice would simply get lost between everyone spitting random ideas and opinions that were rather pointless. You were still kind enough to answer each of them before everyone followed your ideas, receiving no appreciation back from anyone, and it did bother him to see that happening every meeting, hoping that at some point everyone would learn to shut up and give you your time, but it bothered him even more to see that you didn’t care if they listened to you or not.

At least, after a couple of meetings, it was almost established that his seat would be always next to you because no one, except him, found being near you important.

And last but not least, your face wasn't his type. You weren't ugly, but you weren't the prettiest girl in the room either. You were rather normal with your round brown eyes and your dark hair, unlike the girls with caramel eyes and smooth hair that always looked as if they just arrived from a hair salon appointment, you simply had no spark, and you didn't try to get one either. You would wear plain clothes with no sense of style, only thinking in your comfort instead of what others said behind your back, and he couldn’t imagine himself going hand in hand with you looking that way.

Seunghan almost never got involved with people like you, dull and boring. He was sure that if it wasn’t for the project, he wouldn’t have learned your name, and if it wasn’t for the unexpected turn of events, you’d have ended like one of the numerous faceless people in his past.

The way you slowly and effortlessly took a spot in his head was unconventional. Unlike the continuous messages and invitations most people did to get closer to him, you only did your stuff, working on your tasks and lending a hand if anyone asked for help, but it was kind of endearing how someone who looked so uninterested in everyone else and their opinions would work hard to help if needed. Even if they ignored you most of the time, you had no resentment at all, and when Seunghan asked you if you minded that they called for you that much, your answer was so short it made him analyze each of your words for days, ‘’Well, the work has to be done’’.

He wanted to know if you were a fool letting yourself be taken advantage of or if you simply wanted to end things as fast as you could, and he was inclining more into the latest seeing your blank face writing over your keyboard and yawning unbothered when most of them had left and you stayed to finish their parts because, just like you had said, I won’t open the document once I cross your door.

‘’Aren’t you mad?’’ he then asked.

‘’Not really, why would I get mad?’’ you said without stopping your work.

‘’I don’t know, I just feel like you should’’ Seunghan bit his lip and watched you skillfully go through the document introducing commas and changing words, not wanting to interrupt you but doing it anyways because he couldn’t stay with the doubt in his mind, ‘’don’t you ever get mad?’’

‘’Uhmm no’’ you answered without stopping your work, ‘’I do get mad, I don’t mind correcting other’s work on the computer, but I hate washing other’s dishes.’’

That makes sense, he thought, because you never offered yourself to help him wash everyone’s cups once they left you two alone, and he didn’t realize it until that moment, but the common thing would’ve been to at least offer yourself to take them to the kitchen, thing you never did.

Another question popped into his mind.

‘’Don’t you work in a restaurant?’’ he, after a long time, asked.

‘’Yeah’’

He laughed for days when that conversation replayed in his head.

A routine had been formed after many reunions. Every member of the group would go to his house each Thursday for a couple of hours to show what they had advanced for the big project and the little work the professor left through the semester. You’d arrive a couple of minutes earlier than them since you finished your shift in the restaurant you worked at, and you’d stay there silently scrolling your phone while he revised the shared document. Then, when they all left, you would stay to check with him his work, he trusting you to respectfully correct him and help him just like you did with the others.

It was one of those numerous late nights that, whatever you had, started.

You were biting your lower lip while reading his paragraphs, making a couple of changes every now and then, not paying him any attention on your side, and he doesn’t know what went through his mind, you were calmly doing your own thing, you weren’t any different than usual, with your plain t-shirt and your glasses reflecting the screen light, no colour on your cheeks and hair strings poking out of your ponytail, when his hand moved on its own, accommodating them behind your ear.

Your hands immediately paralyzed, and your eyes stayed glued to the sentence you were about to change, surprised by his sudden action.

‘’Sorry,’’ he apologized, feeling surprised even with himself for doing that.

‘’It’s okay’’ you said and continued.

When you finished his part, you quickly grabbed your things and left, leaving him alone in his apartment with a sour taste in his mouth, repeating in his head how stupid he was for not being able to control his own hand.

You didn’t mention anything about it to anyone, and not that he had thought you would go and scream it to the public, but there was something that told him to be careful with you from that moment on, because you weren’t his prospect, and he couldn’t let you catch unnecessary feelings for him.

The next time you stayed to check his work, he kissed you.

His mind couldn’t function with you around. You, again, had done nothing different from usual, you sat beside him focused on your screen the whole time, correcting his progress, acting as if nothing had happened, making him feel like the only one overthinking the past situation. You showed no interest in him and he had repeated in his head that he should be careful with you that afternoon, he was so into it that when you arrived, instead of sitting beside you until the others got there, he went to his kitchen and rewashed the cups he gave each of them, yet when everyone had left and you were saying something about him reading a certain book to write more about the topic in his part, his hand moved to your neck, and making you face him, he pressed his lips over yours.

He had never done that before, he had never stolen a kiss, even less from someone who showed no interest in him, with no previous flirt and tons of flattering messages directed to him making clear that he could go for it.

You were reluctant at first, not corresponding to his lips movement, mouth hard like a stone. That almost threw him off, but when he was about to leave you, your mouth finally opened to him, letting him interlock his lips with yours, stealing some of your air and sensing the rare softness you had, a touch of inexperience with coffee flavour.

So smart for everything except that, he felt like he could finally teach you something, and that fired the last doubt inside him.

From that day on, every time you went to his house, he would kiss you until everyone else arrived, leaving you with glossy eyes and a different air around you that they noticed but commented nothing about, and when they left and you finished with the last touches of the document, he’d kiss you again, making you bolder and bolder to accept him with every session.

If he went to his kitchen and tapped your hand you would follow him without a word, if the last person about to leave went to the bathroom he wouldn’t doubt to quickly kiss you before they came back, and if you were doing nothing while waiting, he only had to walk to your side for you to lift your eyes and met his lips.

You showed no eagerness to start the kisses, but you always received him with appetite, and that was enough for him to not want to stop.

His preoccupation about you saying something was long forgotten, just in those meetings, even when it was only the two of you, you said no word about the kisses, a silent pact to keep what you had in secret and only behind his doors.

Also, another thing that helped him go around campus with an easy mind was that you showed no intention to change yourself. Usually, when he dated girls they would put more effort into their appearances, they would ask him to buy couple accessories to show off what they were, and then they would match his style, introducing clothes with colours he liked or constantly wore into their wardrobe, like a distinction to show off they were with him, but you didn’t try to do any of that at all, going around with the same clothes, not asking for a single thing from him, not even taunting the idea of having a shared accessory.

You weren’t dating, he knew you didn’t think you were a couple at all, so maybe that was why.

You didn’t ask him what you were, you didn’t pressure him into asking you out, or even insinuate that you liked him. He didn’t understand how you didn’t put any of those cards on the table, you had the chance every time you went to his house, but you didn’t. Seunghan couldn’t understand how you, unlike others, even himself, had no interest in grabbing the opportunity of getting a higher status and being the centre of everyone’s attention, by being with him you could escalate the pyramid, but it seemed like the invisible pyramid he always saw in his head was the last of your concerns.

He was kind of grateful that you didn’t see the point in telling others what you were doing in his living room because thanks to that he felt relaxed beside you. He knew you wouldn’t tell anyone if he did anything wrong, if his lips were too dry when he kissed you, if maybe he was using too much tongue, if his nose kept bumping yours, he didn’t feel the need to think each of his movements or to keep his perfect image, and that finally let him breath and discover how he liked to kiss, helping you discover how you liked it in the way too.

I need to breathe, I want to push my tongue more, can I bite your lip?

Both of you would sometimes throw questions in the middle of the sessions, and none of you judged each other if one wanted to try something new or wanted a break, but they were almost always short ones, enough for you to inhale air for a couple of seconds before Seunghan went back for it.

However, even if he thought the situation was perfect with you not asking for more from him in terms of the pseudo-relationship, he had started to do it without noticing.

Again, he knew how to make people comfortable, and after getting to know you all those days alone, he understood that the best thing to maintain you at ease was directly not trying to hold intruding conversations, but now instead of ignoring you until the next reunion like he always did the first times, he’d send you texts asking if you were going to class or if you had seen the new thing one of the members had written in the shared document, and then when you answered him, he would sneak a personal question in the chat, How was your shift? Did you eat already? What are you doing?

Not thinking too much about it, you gave concise replies and then forgot about him if he didn’t continue with his questions, but you had started to notice his change too, not understanding why he had decided to act like that out of nowhere.

You thought his interest in you was based more on the lack of your enthusiasm to have him around after you two were done, and your indifference to his actions outside his apartment, you thought it was that at least, reason why you felt weirded out every time he asked personal stuff.

You had no expectations of him, you convinced yourself it wasn’t worth it, and you did wish for his touch, but not for his words, not even for his ear to listen to you and agree with what you had to say. You were merely there, ready to accept his lips over yours and ready to leave his house as free as when you entered, which made him strangely confident whenever he was with you, but uneasy when you weren’t.

Still, even if you didn’t try to sustain anything with him, you’d do what he asked you to without doubt, like sitting over his lap when he patted his thighs, or walking to his kitchen when he said he wanted your company until the others arrived.

‘’Why did you arrive so early?’’ he asked one day between kisses. Your soft lips caressing his made him think you had prepared to receive him that afternoon, filling his mind with the idea of you hoping to see him earlier that day and the image of you applying lip balm before crossing his door.

He had you over his counter, your boring and plain blue jeans letting him thrust his clothed erection and enjoy the pressure, but not allowing him to differentiate the form of your cunt over him. That day he was getting impatient with not putting in, the idea had gone through his mind since your last meeting, but you hadn’t shown any intention of fucking him, so he contained himself. That was a step he wasn’t sure he should take alone. Unlike kissing, fucking you would bring another level of intimacy to the dynamic, and he doubted you would continue being the same after that, you were only a girl at the end.

‘’Coworker arrived early’’ you answered. Short, clear, and concise.

You didn’t try to satisfy his greed with an I missed you or an I wanted to see you, you let things go on their own flow, and he liked how fresh everything was with you, almost laughable of how unique your honesty was, and he wanted to keep it like that.

‘’I see’’ he smiled, a part of him disappointed but at the same time relieved.

He trusted you to always tell him the truth, even if sometimes brought him back to reality and humbled a little, he felt better knowing you wouldn’t feed his delusions with pleasant lies.

Everything was going well, each of you without mixing their lives apart from the Thursday afternoon in his house and the short conversations by text, and he was able to contain himself without problem, until that day.

Seunghan rarely had a problem with people from his past, usually once he cut the contact with them, they would get tired of reaching out to him, but this guy was one of the few pesters he couldn’t shake off.

He had been his school classmate in his last year, and Seunghan thought he wouldn’t have to see him again ever again after graduation, but he still called him every now and then to ask him to hang out.

Seunghan definitely had better things to do, but having met him outside his campus and saying hi while he was with his other friends, the boy dragged him into having dinner with other old classmates, making him think that maybe it’d be a good occasion to see old friends again, just a light conversation before they all went to do their own thing.

Seunghan should’ve known better at that point that an asshole would never change.

Arriving at one of the numerous restaurants near his house, he thought that at least, if he got bored, he could quickly escape with an excuse.

At a table on a corner there was his old classmate waiting for him, and the minute he saw that the table was just for two, Seunghan knew no one else would appear.

He tried to run away, but once the other made eye contact with him, it was too late.

‘’Hey man’’ the other greeted him.

Seunghan had no option but to sit.

Immediately he sat the other started to ramble about himself.

Trying to distract himself while the other talked, Seunghan directed his whole attention to the menu.

It was a normal chicken place that worked as a pub at night for groups to drink and play until late, he could already hear a few other people chanting for members to have shots and ordering more and more alcohol, the music was nice and the light was perfect to feel comfortable getting drunk without feeling judged, making him think that, if the other hadn’t lied, he could’ve had a good time with his old friends.

‘’Welcome, what can I get for you?’’

Seunghan instantly recognized your presence, your voice, your aroma, everything.

His eyes shot up and he looked at you, trying to distinguish if it was really you or his mind was playing him a bad (not so bad since he was glad) joke, but there you were, the one and only you.

You were wearing the kind of clothes you’d always wear but with an apron over them and a tag on your chest with your name, clearly showing that you worked there. Unlike him, you didn’t show any surprise to see him, keeping the stoic expression you always had, and the corners of his lips went up without him noticing, a smile almost taking control of his mouth, happy to see you out of the classroom or his living room, but no word came out of him.

Should he greet you like he wanted? Should he call your name and say what a surprise? Should he say he didn’t know you worked there? Because he really didn’t know.

Questions accumulated inside his head, and missing his chance, his old classmate ordered for both, and you, not displaying any disappointment or happiness or any feeling at all, left them alone.

Seunghan started to feel even more down, firmly believing that you decided to pretend you didn’t know him, was that what you wanted? To not know him out of his house?

He knew you would never act giddy to see him, you would never scream his name and run to his arms if you saw him on the other side of the street, but he had hoped that you would at least say hi, to acknowledge you knew each other, after all, you were classmates, and he didn’t want you to act like one of the girls that had a crush on him, but he didn’t want you to ignore him either.

‘’So, what do you say?’’ the annoying guy brought him out of his thinking.

‘’Sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you with the music’’ Seunghan was lost the minute the other started to yap, and he didn’t feel like hearing him anymore, but the least he could do was be polite enough until he said goodbye, the last thing he needed was to hear how the other spread into the chats that Seunghan was full of himself now that he was in college, but the boy didn’t help him to stay calm at all.

Even with the big sign inside every restaurant saying that it was forbidden to smoke in shared spaces, he put a cigarette in his mouth and held it while he searched for his lighter.

‘’My friend has a booth in this club and a ton of pretty girls go all the time, you should come with me, we’ll have fun, and if we’re lucky, a better after night’’ he laughed while lighting it.

Seunghan didn’t want to meet him exactly because of that. They never shared interests, he was a lost cause always living in parties ever since they were in school, and Seunghan could say no to those outings when he was a minor, but since graduation, the other had been more and more insistent now that Seunghan didn’t have enough reasons to reject him anymore.

The other, just like when they were in school, wanted him to show up, attract a bunch of pretty girls and trap one of them to fuck them with his friendship with him as an excuse to appear more desirable.

‘’Sorry, I have class tomorrow early’’ Seunghan said, and trying to fan the smoke from his cigarette the other way, coughed before he continued, ‘’I think we should leave if you want to smoke, there’s a big sign that says not to smoke inside’’.

‘’Don’t worry about that, but talking about leaving, I think you should come with me, my friend always pays for all our drinks.’’

Shit, he started to think. Seunghan perfectly knew that tactic, typical from guys like him with no charm and no capacity to attract a girl that was in their full senses.

He hated that kind of guy, and not wanting to stay with one of them in front of you, he started to plan an excuse to leave, needing to go home and forget that night ever happened.

The other didn’t stop talking or showed any sign of putting off the nicotine stick, making him bite the inside of his cheek anxious with the idea of bringing you problems since you’d have to tell his friend that he couldn’t do that there, and knowing him, he wouldn’t stay quiet with a mere waitress telling him what he could and couldn’t do.

‘’I really think you should put that out’’ Seunghan interrupted him after a couple of minutes. The other was already in half his cigarette and Seunghan had resigned in having to put his pretty clean shirt in the dirty laundry because the smell of his cheap little vice was already impregnated in the fabric that used to have the warm and fruity aroma of his softener.

‘’Don’t be such a bummer man, light up a little’’ he joked. ‘’I’ll tell you something, if you come with me, I’ll stop, what do you say’’.

Seunghan found his offer tempting, but if he couldn’t escape there, how would he escape from the club? Well, he could get lost in the middle of all the people, and he had already decided that he would take a shower again to clean the smell of the cigarette, so it didn’t sound too bad after he contemplated the idea.

‘’Hey, go and fuck yourself, he already said he doesn’t want to go.’’

His friend almost choked with the smoke he was holding inside his mouth when he heard you, and Seunghan’s eyes opened while his mouth and thoughts completely shut down.

‘’What the- do you know her?’’ the last question was directed to Seunghan and he didn’t know what to say, his head almost shook saying no like instinct, but he stopped himself before doing it, staying still.

‘’He doesn’t have to know me, everyone here can hear how you’re trying to force him into going with you, so let him alone before I tell my boss you’re smoking here when that big ass poster clearly says you can’t, or apart from not listening you can’t read either?’’

You said all that without an ounce of fear and Seunghan couldn’t understand what was that feeling that had started to grow inside his chest, was that embarrassment for not being able to talk for himself? or embarrassment for being seen with someone like that guy? He wasn’t sure at that moment, but what he noticed was that it was mixed with another thing, annoyance. However, he didn’t know if it was with himself or with the stupid brat in front of him, and it increased once the other stood up from his seat and tried to lift his hand at you.

It was impossible the guy punched you, but just the idea of him touching you with a single finger made him interfere, something he never did.

Seunghan’s body moved on its own and grabbed him before he tried to even brush you, dragging him outside without giving you a second glance.

You didn’t flinch at all, you had met tons of worse clients, he was nothing to you, and you’d have probably ignored the whole situation if it wasn’t that Seunghan looked so troubled sitting there. You had a pact with yourself to not butt in situations that had nothing to do with you, but you knew Seunghan, he couldn’t say a frankly no for the sake of looking good, and he could easily lead people into leaving him in peace, but the other boy had bad news written all over his face, and you doubted someone as pacific as Seunghan could use his tactics with him.

You watched the drinks on the table, two untouched beers that your manager would ask why they stayed like that there, alone, and unpaid, and you just hoped that little spur of bravery didn’t bring you problems with anyone else.

Outside the restaurant Seunghan left the other guy’s arm free and, scrunching to touch his knees with the palms of his hands, he exhaled to control himself.

He started to count in his head, repeating It’s okay, It’s okay, to convince himself that nothing had happened.

‘’Woah I should talk to the owner, how could she talk to a customer like that, that girl shouldn’t be a waitress.’’

It’s not okay.

Rage started to fill him and for the first time, he felt tempted to use his punch over someone else.

‘’Don’t call me ever again.’’

Seunghan started his way to his house, not looking back, feeling that, if he saw his face again, he wouldn’t be able to control his hand from not flying directly to the other’s eye.

When Seunghan arrived at his house he saw one of the numerous flyers on his entrance, right next to the plate where he left his keys and any little thing that he received or bought on the street, recognizing the name of the restaurant where you worked at, and just there a memory came to his mind, you leaving that little paper with an ugly old design, sighing and saying I don’t know if I’m cursed or anything, but my work seems to never leave me alone.

Now he understood why when he saw the direction the other had sent, he felt so eager to go, because even if he couldn’t remember it, his body did it for him, wanting to be near you.

He tossed his shirt into the laundry. He had worn it that day believing it would still be clean enough the next day and he’d be able to wear it in front of all the group, but especially, in front of you, and when he tried to sleep, but the whole night the only thing that occupied his mind was how would you see him that afternoon.

When the clock marked the hour in which you usually arrived, he started to clean his table, again. He had already spent most of his morning cleaning his place to receive the group, but he didn’t know how to stay still with the memory of the disastrous previous night. He kept wondering, what would you say? Would you think he was like his friend? Impossible. Would you pretend nothing happened like you always did? That seemed pretty possible.

He kept convincing himself to not bother you with questions on his part, like, would you always act like you didn’t know him in the streets? Did he have to ignore you every time he saw you out there? Did you think he was pathetic for not being able to give a straight no? Because he thinking it was enough to torment his night, and sure the next ones would have him meeting the same fate too.

His watch alarm sounded while he was dusting his couch pillows for the third time, making him feel anxious because it usually sounded when you were already there, with him, accepting his kisses and his hands grasping your body as much as he allowed himself.

You didn’t arrive until much later when all the other guys were already there.

At least you took your seat beside him like you always did, making him feel at ease a little bit.

It wasn’t enough, Seunghan felt his hands sweating and he couldn’t stop his leg from moving under the table, so after many lost minutes, he decided it was enough, and tapping your hand he signalled the way to his kitchen, telling you to follow him in silence.

Thankfully, and as expected, you didn’t protest, leaving everyone else concentrating on their own stuff.

When you two got to his kitchen, you perfectly knowing your way at that point after so many afternoons watching him move around, to get busy, you filled his kettle with water to boil it and make more coffee, to have an excuse for disappearing from his living room.

‘’Did you get in trouble after we left?’’ Seunghan started.

You played with the force of the fire in his kitchen, and finally leaving it as high as possible, you answered.

‘’Not really.’’

‘’Will they cut the beers from your pay?’’

‘’Nah, you can have a couple of drinks for free a day, so my coworkers had them.’’

The way you looked so recollected should’ve brought him peace, you didn’t get in trouble, which was good, a happy ending, but he got more stressed.

‘’Why did you get involved?’’ he asked the one thing that bothered him the most the last night.

‘’Are you really asking me that?’’ you laughed, ‘’I just felt like doing it.’’

‘’But why.’’

‘’Why do you care so much Seunghan? I’m sorry if I brought you problems, I didn’t mean to, okay?’’ you wanted to leave the topic behind, so you didn’t look at him, nails busy scratching a point of dust off his counter.

You, just like Seunghan, hated getting involved in uncomfortable situations, but unlike him, you didn’t have the ability to swiftly change topics or help everyone involved feel better, resorting to abruptly trying to end discussions with apologies, to then ignore the problem.

That irritated him, how you avoided his eyes and tried to keep yourself busy to not take your part in the situation.

Seconds passed by, and he could hear the water starting to boil, so he knew he wouldn’t have much time until the others started to wonder what you two were doing in his kitchen alone.

His hand grabbed yours when he got tired of you not looking at him, but you kept your eyes down, directing them to his floor titles this time.

‘’Look at me’’ he ordered, and you, not being able to not follow his words, looked up at him.

The silence wasn’t like the one you had when you arrived, it was tense, and it had started to pick on your nerves, pushing you to talk again. ‘’He was bothering you, and you looked uncomfortable, I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to intervene.’’

His grip on you got softer and he exhaled through his nose, a tenderness installing on his chest with your eyes looking at him and your voice wavering but finally answering his question.

He then felt bad, he was no one to talk to you like that, and he never had discussions like that either. He knew how to keep the waters calm and get the other person to participate in the talk, making them feel heard and making them listen to what he had to say, but with you he forgot how to do that, carrying the conversation to another direction instead of the one he wanted to take. ‘’No, I’m sorry, I just wanted to thank you, I don’t know why it sounded as if I was complaining’’ he said, mind not as foggy anymore.

‘’I’m sorry’’ you said again, making him smile this time, because both of you would never stop saying sorry if he didn’t change the tone of the conversation.

‘’Thank you for helping me’’ he said to leave everything behind on good terms.

You nodded, air less tense and comfortable enough for him to move his body closer to you, and hand in hand, cornering you to his counter, after you moved your eyes from his eyes to his lips, he felt as if he had permission to take his Thursday kiss, giving you a peck, to then leave other, and other, until they stopped being just pecks and converted into a deep one.

His other hand went to your waist, playing with the hem of your long plain t-shirt, they never let him sneak a hand to touch the skin inside because of how long they were, and that kind of bothered him, but at the same time it made him smile with his lips over yours, liking the softness all your clothes had.

He had changed his softener to yours after you told him what you used, it was a cheap brand, but it does the job, and he liked to share something as banal as that with you.

The kettle whistle didn’t make him stop, and with the same hand playing with your clothes, he turned off the kitchen, so it didn’t sound anymore.

He had to prepare the new round of coffee for everyone outside, so after a last long-lasting peck, he let you go, but with one last order before you went outside to sit with everyone else.

‘’Don’t pretend to not know me in public.’’

Time went flying after that, and finally able to concentrate, he wrote as much as he could while waiting for everyone to leave you two alone to continue your routine.

When all of them left, you surprised him once again.

Standing with him, you grabbed a couple of cups to take to the kitchen with him, making him grin because that was just so uncharacteristic of you, and he knew you wanted something else to happen.

In his kitchen, alone, you stayed beside him watching him wash the cups and everything he had used that afternoon while he talked about the book you had recommended to him, and once he finished, he dried his hands on the towel you handed him, to then push you to his kitchen counter and taste you.

Your lips he had missed for a week had a different flavour, sweeter this time, still kind of bitter because of the coffee, but there was just something else.

Perhaps it was because you started the kiss this time, pulling his belt until his chest was touching yours and his eyes looked down at you with attention, or perhaps it was simply something else that he didn’t know, maybe you put more sugar in your drink? He didn’t care enough to keep guessing.

One hand going to cup your cheek while the other roamed your waist, he sighed when over your lips when a whimper left your mouth.

His hips were getting impatient, and he had started to thrust onto your clothed sex without thinking, but it was an automatic motion his body did for him, not that he had thought for so many days how your sweet insides would feel, or taste.

He wouldn’t fuck you; he had decided that.

Kisses were more than enough, he tried to convince himself.

But Hong Seunghan was just a man, and mere kisses were never going to be enough, so pulling apart, he tried to think he was stronger than what he really was, and he really tried it, until you grabbed his hand to cup you.

‘’Are you sure?’’ he asked you, hand cupping your pussy harder but still decided to let you go if you didn’t want it.

He had stolen a kiss from you before, but doing something like that without your firm approbation was too much for him.

‘’Just do it Seunghan’’ you replied, opening your legs for him even more.

You were wearing jeans and the rough material felt good against his clothed erection, but not against his hand, so he opened your button and pushed his hand inside your underwear, feeling your clit and drawing the direction your lips showed him to find your entrance.

‘’You’re wet, been thinking about me?’’ He murmured against your ear.

Your tailbone was against the hard marble counter of his kitchen, feeling the border of it sink strongly against you, but it felt so good to have his hand touching you there while he whispered right next to your ear.

He had you opening your legs for him while he situated himself beside you, one leg between yours, his right hand smearing your arousal, and the other gripping the counter to not get too lost in you.

You didn’t answer, ashamed of letting more embarrassing noises out when he was just taunting you.

He wasn’t doing anything, just feeling you with the palm of his hand, and you still felt something forming in the pitch of your stomach you had never felt with anyone before.

Seunghan knew you were a virgin, he was the one who taught you how to give open-mouthed kisses after all, but you never imagined he would be the one making you feel that way.

You two were so different, you had seen him walking around campus with his friends, his sole presence making everyone turn their heads to him, you would’ve never expected to end in a situation like this one with him, or that he’d be the one taking all the first steps.

‘’Stop laughing’’ you said when he continued still.

You had weeks of building up, going home with your panties dripping after he kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, you needed more, but he wasn’t taking the first step anymore, only kissing you, rutting his boner in your entrance and letting you go with a painful smile.

You were too proud to tell him you wanted more, and you wouldn’t have followed him to his kitchen with the cups of coffee if you hadn’t had enough.

Never helping him that way, tired of doing it every day at your job, you thought this was the time.

This was the time before everything fell apart.

You knew how fragile human relationships were, reason why you didn’t want to have a boyfriend or anything like that before.

You had seen in first person how people could change from one day to another, and how anything, didn’t matter how deep looked like, could end in a blink.

Yesterday you felt it was over, you thought that Seunghan would push you away and the make-out sessions would never happen again, but he had kissed you, so you decided to take the first step to feel him more before everything ended.

You thought, everything would finish at one point in time, and if it wasn’t because of a discussion, it would be when the project was over, whatever happened first, so you didn’t have enough time to be proud anymore.

His hand moving brought you out of your thinking, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, you felt his fingertips brushing your clit, sending a shiver through your spine and making you open your mouth, surprised.

‘’Feels good, right?’’ he asked with a smile, drawing circles and feeling as good as you just by looking at your face showing exactly all you were feeling.

Mouth open and eyebrows frown, you let him do what he wanted with you, trusting his experience to take you to an unknown place.

‘’Answer’’ he ordered, stopping his fingers from pressing that little bud and making you shook your head.

‘’Yes, it feels good’’ you answered, letting your head fall to his shoulder and sighing before grabbing his wrist to move it again, but he was a lot stronger, and you could only wrap your hand around him, not being able to close your fingers of how big he was.

Although he had pretty hands, they were still manly, strong, and a lot bigger than yours, and moving his hand again, he showed you the pace you should take when he wasn’t with you, but you doubted you’d be able to feel the same way if it wasn’t his hand the one touching you.

‘’Remember, just like this’’ he said, flicking his index on your clit and making you whimper.

He had that fucking grin on his face the whole time and you couldn’t dare to look at him, feeling at disadvantage to his knowledge.

You were smart, you knew a lot of things, you proofread his work, you checked everyone’s work, and you know you’re always right when you answer questions, but right there you were nothing compared to him, and that made you furious, but it calmed you at the same time.

He might have that grin, but he was treating you so well, softly showing you how real pleasure felt like, you doubted you would’ve felt that comfortable with anyone else in that situation.

Pushing one finger inside, the middle one, he let the other fingers rest while his thumb continued with the caresses to your clit.

Your panties were slightly pushed down with the way he was touching you, and the hard marble was now touching directly at your skin, but the cold sensation of it with the warmness of his hand made everything better, making you stay focused on what was happening the whole time.

‘’Oh god,’’ you cried when his finger started thrusting your entrance.

The spongy and smooth texture of your walls welcomed him without problem, and he cursed at how good you felt.

Getting dizzy, he thought about how you would receive him, how you’d wrap him, and how he would make you used to his size since he’d be the first person fucking you, which filled his chest with something else he couldn’t recognize, was that happiness? It was more like relief.

But it also terrified him.

The need that was increasing inside him to have you near, close to him, with him, it terrified him.

He’s not used to that kind of emotion, he feels tired of people, he knows that, but would he become tired of you?

‘’Seunghan,’’ you moaned his name, pushing your hips down to his hand so he fucked you with his finger again.

He looked at your face, eyes glossy and red lips after all the kisses and how you bit them to not cry out loud, and he added one more.

‘’Why did you get involved yesterday?’’ he asked you again.

You couldn’t understand his words, it resonated inside your mind, but you couldn’t think of an exact answer with his fingers fucking you harder and faster.

‘’I couldn’t let him… he was bothering you…’’ you said as you could.

‘’Good’’ he said, still fingering you, ‘’Will you ignore me outside again?’’

You were moving in unison with his hand, meeting him each time he pushed his fingers and his palm pressed your clit.

‘’No,’’ you cried, feeling that tight sensation form in your abdomen again, more intense, painful.

‘’Good, now cum’’ he ordered.

You cried on his shoulder pretty loud when he gave you permission, you didn’t know you would need one to have an orgasm, maybe that was why you couldn’t do it on your own, but it was life-changing how real, intense, and amazing, pleasure could be.

Trembling on his chest, your head still on his shoulder, and you trying to catch your breath, he made you face him to leave a couple of pecks on your lips again, almost loving and incredibly peaceful, as if you had done that many times before, making you feel comfy on his presence and with his hand still prying inside your underwear.

A couple of minutes later he helped you pull up your jeans again, but they were a mess, so he made you follow him to the laundry room and gave you a pair of clean boxers.

‘’Better than nothing’’ you said when he apologized for not having anything better.

He gave you a pair of his numerous grey pants and seeing how you were struggling to keep them in place, offered to walk you to the bus stop just in case.

‘’You looked good yesterday’’ you said to fill the silence after many minutes.

Seunghan regretted having offered to keep you company to the stop, walking on an uncomfortable silence that seemed to only affect him, you completely calm beside him, but when you said that, he smiled, feeling glad for doing something different for once.

‘’You too, that apron fits you’’ he said in a teasing tone. For him, it felt like flirting, for you, it felt like it too, but you weren’t used to it, so you only nodded and didn’t talk until your bus arrived.

Even if none of you said it, something had changed in the air after that.

When you met in the corridors, first he’d look at you from the distance, debating if he should get closer and talk or not, but then after much thinking (and many days doing the same thing, staring from feet away), he decided that saying hi to his classmate wasn’t anything out of the world.

The first time your eyes met his and he, instead of looking the other way, walked to you, you thought that something wrong was about to happen, sending a nervous shiver and making you grip onto your backpack straps.

‘’Hey, how was class?’’ he asked, just standing next to you while you waited for your water bottle to be filled.

‘’It was okay’’ you said, still not daring to see his face.

The first times were incredibly uncomfortable, but soon you got used to that, it was just talking after all, nothing special, so you let him talk to you about whatever crossed his mind until he was called by someone in his group, and you had started to accept him more, trying to maintain a decent conversation at least, all innocent and he being cordial with one of his many classmates.

In his house, however, he’d corner you and get you all heated until the others arrived, and when they left, he’d finger you until you came over his hand and cried on his neck.

You didn’t say anything when that happened, accepting him just like when he kissed you the first weeks, and like that, another routine had been formed.

From the first time he gave you a pair of his boxers, he washed your dirty pair of panties to give them back to you the next time he saw you, but that next time you’d leave another dirty pair again (more like, he would snatch them from your hands before you could say anything), changing into the clean pair he had washed, so the new routine would consist in you cumming over his fingers, leaving your wet underwear, and he washing it to have it ready for you the next time.

He never told you because you didn’t ask, but every time you left your panties, he would smell your orgasm on them, jerking off with the picture of you opening your legs for him until he came over the fabric, and appreciating the look of your wet spot with his cum over it, he’d wash them carefully by hand.

You still haven’t fucked.

Things were getting too intimate for Seunghan even if you hadn’t had sex, and he loved it, he loved how you left something yours in his house, he loved to be the only one giving you pleasure, and the only one seeing your face when you had an orgasm, but he had started to ask himself, what did that mean?

He wasn’t your boyfriend, you weren’t his girlfriend, and he enjoyed that silent pact at the start, but so much time had passed that it had started to confuse him.

Next week would be the last reunion before the big presentation, and after that, what would make you go to his house? Did he have to ask you out? Could he really let himself be seen with you in public?

In the confidence of his room, he didn’t have to give anyone an explanation, not even you since you never asked for one, but out there he doubted it could stay like that. He could already notice how people looked at him when he talked to you in the corridor like a mere classmate, what would they say if they knew all he did to you in his house?

Seunghan was so lost, he couldn’t understand any of his actions, not his body making him run to you in public, his mouth rambling every time he had you near, or what he was doing there in front of your work at that moment.

You could go on your own without problem, you’ve been doing it for weeks, you knew his address and his house like the palm of your hand, so he couldn’t understand why all his thoughts told him to go and wait for you to finish your shift and then walk you to his house.

He was looking down at his feet, dusting the dust out of the floor as if it was his job.

His spotless sneakers were kicking air by that point, and he didn’t know if to stay or leave, telling himself to just walk in and order something and pretend he was passing by.

‘’Seunghan?’’ you asked before he could even decide.

You had a couple of plastic bags on each hand that seemed heavy, sure you didn’t only took orders and washed dishes, but he didn’t imagine they would also send you to buy stuff.

‘’Oh, hey’’ he said, trying to act nonchalant, ‘’I was just passing by…’’ you hadn’t asked anything and he was already giving you an answer ‘’and I remembered your shift was about to end so…’’

He had talked incredibly fast, and you almost didn’t understand the last part, but you heard shift and end, so, blinking, you nodded to his words.

‘’I see’’ you said, and silence came to surround you again, ‘’well, it’s true my shift was about to finish, I just had to leave this inside, we can go together to your house if you want’’.

Seunghan exhaled, thankful for you to talk.

‘’Okay then’’ he smiled, giving a few awkward steps to you.

You were pretty close to the local, you were in front of it and only had to cross the street, yet he couldn’t see you struggling with the bags, so taking them from your hands, he walked you inside, only giving them back because you had to leave them in the kitchen.

Sitting in one of the booths, he checked his phone to wait for you.

It somehow felt natural, waiting for you to then go back to his house, and he had a knot in his throat forming with that thought.

‘’Seunghan?’’ he lifted his gaze from his mindlessly scrolling to see the same old friend he had told to never call him again after the incident, ‘’what are you doing here?’’ he then said, looking at him weird out by seeing him alone.

‘’Soobin…’’ Seunghan murmured, he hadn’t expected to see him at all.

After that day he stopped contacting Seunghan just like he had asked, and he had totally forgotten about him until that moment, making him nervous because Seunghan didn’t know how to act with him anymore now that he had seen his uncool, angry and exasperated side.

‘’Are you waiting for someone?’’ he asked.

Seunghan left his phone on the table and, not knowing what to say, only nodded.

‘’I see… well, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, I made you go through an uncomfortable moment that day, sorry.’’

Not believing what he had just heard, Seunghan, lost at words, only nodded again.

‘’I was really an asshole’’ he laughed, making Seunghan laugh too.

‘’It’s okay, I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I’m sorry too’’ Seunghan finally said.

Standing and giving him his hand, both of them laughed and punched each other’s shoulders.

‘’But tell me the truth, you know that girl, right? The waitress who told me to go and fuck myself’’ Soobin said, laughing even more with the memory.

Seunghan didn’t know what to answer, pushing both hands to his pockets, he bit the inside of his cheek and, contrary to all he was thinking, denied.

‘’Not really’’ Seunghan said, looking at his feet and seeing the light reflection of his blue shirt over his white sneakers, without thinking he had worn the same shirt he had used that day.

‘’Uhm, if you say so’’ Soobin said unconvinced, ‘’she said you had classes together though.’’

Surprised, Seunghan stayed silent, and before he could explain himself, a girl had called Soobin, who said a quick goodbye and ran to her without looking back.

Seunghan saw the other smile at the girl and take her hand, proudly taking her bag from her and putting it on his shoulder as if it was his own.

He seemed happy, and not like an asshole anymore, what seemed unbelievable until that day, making him think that, maybe he was the only one who would never change.

He didn’t understand why he had denied knowing you, he was the one who told you to not pretend to not know him in public, and you had been true to your words, while he, even if hadn’t promised the same thing, felt like a liar.

You came out minutes later, and he had never been grateful to the world for not having you close at every moment, but in that moment, he was, because at least you hadn’t heard how pathetic he was, again.

‘’My boss gave you this, says thank you for carrying the bags’’ you showed him a can of beer, ‘’tsk, I was the one who carried them all the way here.’’

You looked incredibly offended, and accepting it, Seunghan looked behind you, where a big man met his eyes and gave him a thumbs up before he could say anything, and suddenly, he was laughing from the bottom of his heart again.

You smiled with him for a second, and walking out of the local, he told himself to stop being such a coward.

Walking in silence, Seunghan had both hands on his jeans pockets, while you had them over your backpack handles.

‘’I can carry your backpack if you want’’ Seunghan offered.

You denied, ‘’It’s okay, I can do it.’’

‘’I should be clearer, what I meant to say was that I want to carry your backpack’’ he said.

The sun was going down and he could see the orange lights of the sunset, tons of lights were starting to appear thanks to the numerous businesses around there, and he wanted to look at them, but his entire attention was on the way a little touch of red started to appear on your cheeks.

‘’Okay’’ you said, passing him your backpack and letting him carry it for you.

‘’It’s still early, we can buy some snacks before going, is there anything you want?’’ he asked, sliding his arms on the handles, and letting it sit on his back.

It was a bit tight, used to be carried only by you, but he wore it like he could.

‘’I’m okay, I just had something’’ you tried to not look at him, looking at the pavement instead.

He let you go a step in front of him, you had shorter legs and he had no problem reaching you, but he let you, you seemed to want that little distance, and that way he could also see more things of you he hadn’t noticed before.

Your hands didn’t have anything else to grab now that he was wearing your backpack and they seemed unnatural on your sides playing with nothing. Now that he noticed, you were always doing something with them, whether it was writing on your keyboard, writing something, or simply scratching any surface that you had near, but right there you had nothing, and he thought that maybe, he should hold your hand to fill that emptiness.

Not a maybe anymore, his hand wanted to interlock with yours, and slowly approaching you, he almost touched the side of your left one.

‘’If you want to buy something we can stop in that convenience store’’ you pointed to the store next to you, open and almost empty, and he woke up from all the ideas that were lurking inside his mind. To hold your hand, wasn’t that a bit too much for someone who wasn’t your boyfriend?

‘’Yeah,’’ he said, walking in and buying the first chips he saw just to buy something.

You were waiting for him outside, checking your phone, and he couldn’t stop seeing the way your eyelashes were really dark, and how you, just like him, bit the inside of your cheek pretty often.

When he moved his eyes from you to the cashier, he talked before he could think, ‘’One box of condoms too, please’’.

The other boy didn’t even flinch, too used to hearing that sentence, and scanned the little code on the machine.

Seunghan shoved the receipt and the little box into his back pocket, brushing the bottom of your backpack in the way, and his heart started to pound while he held the plastic bag in his hand.

‘’Chips with coffee?’’ you asked with a soft smile, and he showed you a wide one back.

‘’I bought coke today’’ he said, walking next to you the rest of the way to his house.

Getting to his house, he opened the door and let you walk in first, watching you take off your shoes and then turn to him, waiting for him to do the same.

When you showed him your hand, he didn’t understand what you wanted, so he gave you the plastic bag with chips.

‘’Seunghan, my backpack’’ you said, making him release an embarrassed little smile before taking it off and giving it to you.

You grabbed it, and going to his kitchen, you left the can of beer your boss had given to him inside his fridge.

Seunghan walked behind you, looking at you move around with such normality, you had been going there for weeks, and that was the last reunion before the presentation next week, so of course you’d be comfortable enough by that point.

Things with the work were going smoothly, different from all the ideas that circled his mind about you. You had made that tedious job bearable, and he wished all his other projects could go as easy as that one.

They would arrive still in a considerable time, and seeing you bend down to inspect his fridge, he gulped, seeing the little outline of your body swimming inside that oversized t-shirt.

‘’You bought Sprite too’’ you affirmed before closing his door, ‘’what’s the occasion?’’

‘’It’s the last meeting, I thought it would be nice to give them something that wasn’t instant coffee’’ he murmured.

You walked to him, looking at his hand organizing the bags over his counter and folding the plastic bag from the convenience store into a drawer. ‘’The last meeting…’’ you murmured too, not believing that so much time had passed, and how probably that would be your last day together like that in his kitchen.

Catching your attention, a piece of paper was showing in his back pocket, and you shouldn’t have done it, you don’t know why you did it, but you grabbed it, it easily slipped from his jeans without making a noise, so he didn’t notice it, and you and your wandering eyes read what was written in the little paper.

Nothing seemed out of normal, the different chips were listed with their price right next to them, but one word caught your attention.

You had never bought it before, but you recognized the name of the brand, it was popular and all the stores had it, so you had seen it in the health section in the supermarket and posters of it in convenience stores.

Not wanting to make it obvious that you knew, you let the paper fall to the floor when he stood up again.

‘’That fell’’ you said, and he, following your eyes, saw the white paper on the floor, picking it up and making it a ball before he tossed it to the trash can there in his kitchen.

You swallowed the saliva accumulating in your throat, and he didn’t say anything, he didn’t know you had read it, so when the air changed and he met your eyes staring at him, he smiled, thinking it was you wanting a kiss from him.

Getting close to you, things were different this time, he was going just for a kiss, there wasn’t much time before the others arrived, but you put your arms around his neck and opened your mouth, wanting a deep one this time.

Sliding his tongue and caressing yours, one of his hands went to your back, feeling the clasp of your bra through your shirt, while the other shamelessly went to the small of your back, drawing lines and circles just to keep his hands busy.

You whimpered and he couldn’t help but push his mouth even more against yours, pressing you to his counter and groaning when he heard another whimper come from you.

‘’The others are going to arrive in any second… I’m sorry’’ he said.

‘’Why are you sorry?’’ you asked.

‘’Because I can’t make you cum, there’s not enough time’’ he sighed before giving you a peck over your lips.

‘’Later then?’’ your voice almost broke and he saw your eyes gleaming, thinking how they were the prettiest pair he had seen, and how they were focused solely on him.

He nodded, ‘’Later.’’

When the others got there, they all focused on giving the presentation the last touches, and once they were done, they all celebrated with the chips and the sodas Seunghan had bought.

‘’I’ve never had a group work as much as this one, I’m thankful to all of you for coming here even with your busy agendas, thank you for everything’’ Seunghan said, making them all smile, and of course, the praises for him didn’t take much to appear.

Everyone left not much later, and being alone, you helped him recollect the cans and then step over them to recycle them.

Finishing the work in silence, you helped him clean, and once nothing else was there to do, Seunghan made you follow him to his room.

You haven’t been there many times, but you remember it, you remember the dark blue walls, and his black furniture, especially the way even his window frame was black too.

It looked like someone had designed it for him, knowing his style, just like his whole house, and you couldn’t help but feel the difference with your place when after spending hours there you had to ride the bust to your little studio apartment.

But Seunghan had never shown any sign of caring about the difference in your situations, he knew you worked in a half bar half chicken restaurant, that you used cheap softener for your clothes, and that you repeated outfits many times, but he had never commented about it.

You couldn’t help but feel kind of special, and just that day, when you saw him waiting for you in front of your workplace, you felt your heart flinch, because not even in your wildest dreams you had thought you would see that scene.

You knew him enough to know he usually overthought things about others and how they saw him, needing to appear perfect all the time, but even with that in mind, just perhaps, things were different with you.

Closing his door while you saw the pictures he had on his desk, you didn’t say a word once he got behind you and one of his hands rested on your abdomen.

You let him kiss you again, receiving him and giving him your full attention, to him, to his fingers, and to the way he wasn’t containing anymore.

He made you walk to his bed with him, and pushing you there, he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

‘’I’ll take it off’’ he said, and when you nodded, he showed you a smile, ‘’I’ll finally see what you have there.’’

‘’Shut up’’ you laughed and lifted your arms, so he took it off.

Showing him your chest, you felt exposed, it was the first time you let him see you like that, he had sneaked a hand before, but he never took off your t-shirts, not even your jeans, touching you inside your underwear and making you cum with his fingers before he gave you your clean pair of panties and let you change yourself while he turned to watch a wall or went to put his shoes on while you changed alone in his room.

His eyes on your chest made you conscious, and he noticed it, but even if he wanted to stop so you felt comfortable, he couldn’t.

‘’They’re pretty’’ he said, and you gave him a half smile, not daring to see his eyes inspecting you.

His hand caressed your cheek, so you looked at him again, and trailing down the valley between your breasts, he smiled when you whimpered at his hands cupping your tits.

Nipping the naked skin that your bra let him see, he felt the softness of that part of your body, looking up to your face to not lose your reactions.

He took off the pretty blue shirt you liked to see him wearing, and that part of him naked, he showed you his tender skin, white, spotless and as pretty as him.

Of course, he’d look perfect without clothes too.

He didn’t unclasp your bra, he pulled it down, which felt uncomfortable, but you couldn’t say anything when his lips went to your nipples and left soft licks over them, making you arch so your chest continued meeting his mouth.

Untouched down there, you were sure your panties were already a mess since he kissed you in his kitchen hours before, and needing him, your hand went to his erection.

You weren’t that bold before, you could press your cunt to it when he asked you to sit on his lap, but you never touched it.

You wanted to touch it so bad, you let him keep attending your chest while you grabbed him over his pants.

‘’I want to touch you’’ you admitted, and he, without the smile you always saw, pushed your hand away.

‘’Not yet’’ he said, moving away and unbuttoning your jeans.

You, again, helped him to take it off you, lifting your hips so you helped him.

With hands sweating, he tosses them to the side and sighs glad that they didn’t slip from his hands. You looked so fucking good under him, nude bra down enough for him to see your tits, and a blue pair of panties that definitely didn’t match, but for him, they looked amazing together, because you were wearing them, and that was enough.

Looking at you, he can’t help but admire all the little places he wants to mark, the side of your neck, your collarbone, your chest, your tummy, and his eyes go all the way down until he sees the inside of your thighs.

Creamy, soft, sweet, they were calling for him, and without saying anything, he went down to taste them.

You let him, you just let him, and adoring the way you wordlessly opened your legs for him, he bit you there, breathing over your underwear the aroma he recognized a bit too well, leaving little pecks until, after pushing your panties to the side, left a single long one over your clit.

Glowing under his bedroom light, he can’t help but give big licks, down and up, recollecting your juices to taste you properly, and like he had been wanting for so long every time he smelled your panties in the confidence of his room.

All those times making you cum with his fingers and containing himself from dropping to his knees and drinking your orgasm to push another one had come to that, and he couldn’t stop now.

Tongue flat against your clit, he made you squirm, but maintaining you on your place with his arms under your thighs and his palms over your tummy, he made you accept him.

‘’Wait- Seunghan’’ you said, propping on your elbows and looking down at him, the sight of his dark eyes meeting yours and his mouth working so eagerly over you making your head spin, and one of your hands, needing to touch him, went to his hair to feel him.

With shaking hips, you met his mouth whenever his chin went upwards, pulsating against half of his face and leaving a mess.

Your pretty pussy lips had a reddish colour, furious with him and his teasing, so to alleviate them a little bit, he inserted two of his fingers in one thrust.

You didn’t need preparation for that, he knew you could take them, so many times cumming over them, your entrance recognized his fingers as an invited guess, so you could only cry when that little place that he always found squelched.

Cursing, you let your head fall, and arching your back, you came with his fingers and his mouth, legs almost closing around his face but being stopped by his big hands.

He left a mark of wetness over the place he touched with the fingers he had pushed on your insides, and you knew you were dripping all over his bed, yet you couldn’t care less.

He pushed down his pants and his underwear, kicking them away from his feet.

‘’Come here’’ he called you, and you, still not back in your senses but always listening to him, sat in the border of his bed as you could.

With drowsy eyes, you gulped when his member stood in front of you. Looking amazing, you didn’t know if dicks could be pretty, but that was the only adjective that came to your head when you saw it.

Pink, veiny, and long, the tip was slightly thicker and darker, and you waited for him to tell you what to do.

His palm wrapped him in front of you with one hand, and with the other, he grasped on your hard nipples begging for more attention, while your pussy was leaving a big spot over his bedsheets with how wet you were after he made you cum once.

‘’First use your hand, okay?’’ he said, and you didn’t need to hear anything else before your hand went to his member, ‘’you seem to like it’’ he snickered.

He didn’t want to tease you, he didn’t mean to, he’s not used to doing that, not even with his exes that could easily form comebacks and throw them at him, but with you, he couldn’t help it, so gorgeous, quiet, and always accepting, his ugly side kept floating out, and he liked your voice telling him to shut up or the almost mute giggles that escaped your chest.

‘’I like it’’ you said, and he licked his dry lips, watching you attentively. The way your wrist did its best to move in and out, and seeing your mouth get closer to his shaft, opening and letting the tip touch your tongue, made him groan.

‘’Take your bra off’’ he ordered, needing to see your tits bouncing with the little force you were using to jerk him off.

He suddenly remembered each time he jerked off to the smell of your panties and the memory of your eyebrows frowning when you came thanks to him, and he smiled, proud of seeing you so eager to attend him too.

His little doll, after all those orgasms, would you say yes to anything he said?

When you toss your bra away without stopping your licks to the tip of his cock, he knows the answer is a yes.

‘’Try to take a bit more’’ he inhaled hastily and, helping you do your job more comfortably, with his hands he pushed the loose strings of hair away from your face.

The first day he didn’t understand why his hand moved on its own to push that hair behind your ear, but now he sees that little dot on your cheek, close to your ear, and he thinks that he did it to see it without any obstacle covering it.

You opened your mouth for him and let him slide deeper, half his cock is inside you, and you looked at him with teary drunk eyes.

He moans at the image, so pretty for him, all for him, he’s the only one who had seen you from that angle, and he hopes it continues being like that.

Your cheeks hollowed and you tried to take more of him, stopping your lungs from taking air in so you could suck him better, and he could see it, he could see you struggling and doing your best for him, so he pressed a thumb on your cheek to show his approbation.

You thought he was getting bored, his usual smile was not there, and his eyes were looking at yours too much, so you stopped to make sure you were not doing all that for nothing, ‘’Sorry, am I bad?’’ you asked with insecurity pouring out of your eyes.

He shook his head, his little genius was all nervous and unconfident, and he felt like he had hit the fucking jackpot seeing such a tranquil and collected girl ask him if she was doing a good job at sucking his cock.

‘’You’re perfect’’ he assured, guiding his cock back to your mouth, to which you answer by letting a bit of spit over his tip, smearing it with your lips kissing him and taking him again.

Where the fuck did you learn that? he asked himself, but with the security of you not doing it from someone who isn’t him, he only sighed and let you continue.

Seconds later he felt himself getting closer, and he can’t let himself cum in your mouth, he needs to do it in your insides, so telling you to stop, you do as your told, watching him in your spot searching his jeans and the box of condoms he had bought in the convenience store on the way to his house.

He opened the package with his mouth, and you remembered all those times you’d heard you shouldn’t do it like that, and echoing inside your mind, you pushed those voices to the back when you pulled down your panties and kicked them under his bed.

‘’This is how you put one on, the next time you’ll do it for me, so watch’’ he said, and you nodded, juices leaking with the idea of doing it for him the next time.

He teaches you how to grab the pointy start with his fingers, and how, with the help of his other hand, you’ll have to slide the latex all over his length, until it ends a finger away from the base of his cock.

You batted your eyelashes without thinking, imagining how the pressure of him opening your insides would feel, and to that your thighs shook with excitement.

He kissed you to take away the last doubts you could have, not knowing that you were yearning for it as much as him.

Helping you lie on his bed with him between your legs, he pushed you more into the mattress so he could kneel over the same bedsheets you’ve been dripping all over.

‘’Tell me if you want to stop, I know it can hurt at first, but I’m confident you’ll take me without problem’’ he said, brushing his tip over your clit and then going lower to put it on your entrance, only pushing his thick tip inside, stretching you enough to make your breath get all messy and your mouth fall open, pushing the air out of your lungs with the sensation of his cock finally fucking you.

‘’Fuck’’ you cried, feeling more of him slide in, and he tried to not show how much he was feeling to not make you nervous, but your gummy walls were so hot he felt like he was melting inside you, and that stole the last sanity he had, biting his lips to not let any embarrassing sound out.

‘’I told you, you could take me’’ he said proudly when his entire dick was inside you, and you cried a needy yes and searched for his eyes to look at how good you were being for him.

Your legs were as wide open as they could, and you pulled him in for a kiss before he rutted into you.

He wanted to be soft, it was your first time, and he knows how important it is for most girls, but you make him so crazy he’s forgotten how he did to not act on his wishes anymore.

His hips clasped with yours at that pace and you cried with each thrust, trying to not be too loud with the hits, however, the curve of his cock was making punching a certain place that feels more intense perfectly, and soon you were gripping onto his bedsheets to get a hold of yourself.

His mouth launched to your neck, chest pressing yours while fucking you, and he started to leave little spots on your neck and collarbone while one of his hands moved from your hip to the wrist of one of your hands, holding it there to feel you closer.

You were practically stuck to him, yet he needed to feel you more, and soon he was pushing your thighs to your chest to watch and confirm how deep inside you he was.

Looking at his cock disappearing inside your plump lips, he frowns because its all so perfect, you under him, taking him after all those weeks, and his thrusts became harder, touching the deepest part of your insides to pull out until the only thing connecting you to him was his fat tip, to then harshly pound into you again.

It’s all so messy he can see you dripping on his bed and how the lube appears dull compared to the glow of your juices on his pelvis.

A moan almost escaped his throat when he saw little tears falling on your cheeks, he knows they’re not from pain, and that’s what pushes him to let his grunts and moans out.

‘’Taking me so good, I’m the only one who can make you like this, right?’’ he asked, but it sounds almost like begging, and you didn’t dare to tease him as he did with you.

‘’You’re the only one’’ you cried while his dick kept punching your insides.

‘’Fuck, I’m going to cum’’ he warned, covering you with his body but not crushing you, his weight doesn’t affect you and you wanted more, so the hand he wasn’t holding moved to his back and scratched him, making him hiss and move his hand to between your bodies, to thumb your clit and push you to cum with him.

Twitching inside you, he came while murmuring a soft my girl, and you tried to ignore those words, thinking that was just something that came to him because of pleasure, and that he would forget later.

He fell over you, this time he felt heavier, but you still didn’t mind, and pressing the tip of your fingers over the scratches you left on his back, you sighed, relaxed to have him there.

‘’Sorry,’’ you said after, when you were on his bed and he was showing you his back, only wearing his boxers and searching for your shirt while you were covering yourself with his bedsheets.

‘’Why?’’ he asked curious of your words.

‘’Your back’’ you answered, and he turned to see the side of his back in his mirror, which indeed, had lines done by your nails.

He smiled and walked to you, sitting beside you and caressing your cheek before he trailed his fingers to your neck, touching the purple spots he has left.

‘’Then I’m sorry too’’ he said, making you smile too.

‘’Maybe we should stop saying sorry’’ you laughed.

‘’Yeah, maybe we should’’ he answered, laughing too.

He didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t want to be a coward anymore, and he wanted to say something because he wanted to, not because he thought you were the one who wanted to hear him saying it, and if he was being honest with himself, he knew you wouldn’t like him to say what he was about to anyway, because you, just like he does often, think that you know what he’s thinking, so he guessed that you were probably thinking a way to leave his house to not be a bother to him, but he didn’t want that, and he knew you wouldn’t know it unless he said it.

‘’Stay with me’’ he said, it sounded almost like a command, but you knew it was a question.