Ella

So, after doing some thinking, you applied.

It was a long process, to say the least. There were tests you had to take, all of them online. Starting with a psychological test, then an IQ test, then a personality test. It took them a month as they asked for everything, from your family disease history to your hopes and dreams for the future.

The more data they gathered, the more detailed your profile became. You even had a few online interviews with a woman named 'Cherry' whose face you couldn't see as she was wearing some sort of mask, only her cherry red lips were visible to you.

"We will take your data into consideration and calculate the best match. Thank you for applying at Cupid Corp. We hope you find your dream lover." the woman talked in a monotone voice.

You didn't wait for too long. Only four days later, you got a package from them, inside it a round device with a screen and one button. You pressed it and when it came to life you were greeted with your match. Just his name and the percentage.

With it, you got a document that stated the location of the village as well as your house number, 14B and a ton of rules, most of them prohibiting you from talking about the activities and 'tests' inside the village as well as a 'no cellphone' rule. You thought it was kind of weird, but you didn't want to back out now. Not when you had a match with such a high number.

It can't be so hard to get it up to 100, right?

You read through all the rules, coming up to the last one.

'You and your partner are not allowed to engage in sexual activites during your stay in the village. Kissing and physical touch is fine unless it is erotic or stimulating in that sort of way. After you sign this paper, you have agreed to all the rules above and are aware that you will be filmed and monitored 24/7.'

You gulped, some kind of unease washing over you as you stared at the document. The little cupid drawing that was the company's logo looked so sweet and innocent but it didn't help the churning of your stomach. Taking a deep breath in, you grabbed you pen and signed the paper.

There is no going back now.

As soon as you entered the village through the gate, it felt like you walked right into a fairytale. The houses were all pretty pastel colors with white picked fences and gardens full of all sorts of beautiful flowers. Everything looked perfect.

The only weird thing was that you didn't see another person anywhere as you walked. It was eerily quiet, only your footsteps were echoing on the pavement and the sounds of your suitcase being dragged behind you. The village was far away from the bustling city so you couldn't hear any sound for miles.

Then you saw it, 14B, a pretty pastel blue house and you smiled to yourself, it looked so cute and cozy. Your heart suddenly skipped a beat when you noticed someone standing outside by the fence.

It was a guy close to your age, and as soon as he noticed you coming towards him, a big smile spread on his face. He waved awkwardly and you waved back as you neared him, your heart hammering in your chest. When you got closer to him, your stomach did a little flip.

He is so beautiful!, you thought as you observed his smiling face, his warm chocolate eyes, his plump heart shaped lips and all the pretty freckles adorning his skin.

"I'm Felix. Nice to meet you." he said, pleasantly shocking you with his deep voice.

"Y/n. Nice to meet you too." you smiled, your face burning up. You hoped you didn't look like an awkward tomato in front of this beautiful man, who was your match! You were already swooning over him as he helped you get your suitcase inside, dragging both of your luggage together while you looked around the garden.

"I guess this is our house." he said as the two of you walked in. You noticed right away that it was decorated in the way you wanted to decorate your dream house, a question you had to answer in one of the tests they gave you. You also noticed some knick knacks you didn't recognize, they were probably something Felix wanted to have in his house.

"They really went all out with the decorations." you said as the two of you made your way to the kitchen and Felix chuckled.

"They did." he nodded, the air between you a little awkward.

"Oh. What's this?" you noticed an envelope adressed to the both of you on the kitchen table.

You picked it up and opened it as Felix peered over your shoulder.

"Dear Felix and Y/n. Welcome to our Village of Love! We hope you enjoy your stay, no matter how short or long it is. You'll find everything you need inside your house, we hope you find it cozy and that you settle in well. Take your time to get used to your surroundings and learn a little about each other before you move onto the next phase. Tests will begin shortly. Have fun!" you read out loud before looking up and seeing a camera staring right at you, the red dot blinking.

"Tests, huh? Doesn't sound too fun." Felix said and you nodded.

"No, it doesn't." you shook your head. "Do you know anything about what happens here?"

"I have no idea. I asked a few of my friends and no one would tell me."

"Isn't that kind of suspicious?" you asked and Felix chuckled nervously, looking up at the camera.

"Aren't they like listening to us right now?" he whispered.

"I'm sure everyone who came here wondered about the program." you shrugged.

"I guess we will find out." Felix said, still being somewhat quiet as he kept eyeing the camera.

You walked over to the fridge and opened it, finding all sorts of groceries inside it, mostly your favorite food and probably Felix's.

"Hungry?" you looked back at him and as if on que, his stomach growled.

You giggled and he laughed, the sound filling up your ears and tugging at your heart.

"I'll take that as a yes. Do you wanna cook together?" you asked and he nodded eagerly.

"I'd love that." Felix answered with a sweet smile so the two of you pulled your sleeves up and washed your hands, getting ready to tackle dinner together as you maneuvered the unknown space.

"What made you decide to apply to this program? You don't seem like you'd have a problem finding a partner." you started the conversation and his cheeks became rosy as he chuckled.

"Well, I tend to fall for the wrong people. The ones who use my kindness against me. And I really don't wanna hurt anymore or just experiment and 'try' again. I want to know that I have the real deal, you know? To be sure that the person is my ride or die."

The honesty in his answer took you by surprise.

'I want my partner to always be honest with me, to tell me the truth even if it is painful.'

You remembered the line you wrote when you were asked to put down on paper everything you wanted in a partner. They had probably looked at Felix's personality test as well as yours, and the things you had written down as your dream partner, putting the two of you together that way.

Your cheeks burned as you remembered how high your percentage is. He must really be the man from your dreams which would make you the woman of his. Butterflies swarmed your stomach.

"What about you?" Felix snapped you out of your thoughts as you continued cleaning the meat.

"Oh, same. I was disappointed many times before. I just want to find someone that will feel like home." you smiled at him.

"Exactly." he agreed. "So, what do you think the tests will look like? Do you think they'll be similar to the ones we had to do while applying?"

"My guess is as good as yours. Though, I must admit I do feel a bit uneasy with all the people not being allowed to say what happened while they were here..." you trailed off, before sighing.

"Then again, they all looked so happy with their partners." you finished. "And I want that."

"Yeah, I feel a bit uneasy myself but we'll go through this together, right?" Felix gave you a shy smile and you nodded as your cheeks warmed up.

After cooking dinner and eating, you had learned a bit more about each other, finding it incredibly easy to keep the conversation going like you've already talked many times before, sharing similar viewpoints and interests. It seemed too easy and you knew that you didn't have to necessarily agree on everything or love all the same things to be a match.

There was definitely something deeper there than the superficial stuff like hobbies and favorite colors when you've already gotten to 89% without even interacting with each other.

"Should we do a tour of the house?" Felix asked when you finished cleaning up.

"Sure, let's do it." you smiled and one by one, you visited all of the rooms starting with the living room that was next to the kitchen.

"Oh, we have a tv." you pursed your lips. "I thought we weren't allowed any kind of electronics."

"I guess they thought having movie nights at home is a date we'd both enjoy." Felix pointed to all the dvds on the shelves around the tv. "We have a good collection of every genre. Skipping horror though, I'm not a fan of scary things." he visibly shivered and you chuckled a little.

"I'm fine with those." you said and Felix gasped a little.

"Well if you want us to watch horror movies together just be prepared that I will be hiding behind like five blankets and probably crying my eyes out."

"Aw, it's okay, we don't have to watch them if they scare you so much." you smiled at him, making his heart skip a beat.

"I'll watch them for you. Well, kinda watch them since I'll be under all those protective blankets."

You chuckled together before you made your way upstairs. Your heart immediately skipped a beat and a shiver ran through your entire body when you saw the bed. Of course, you were meant to sleep together in it.

Felix noticed you staring at it, both of your faces red.

"I can sleep downstairs on the couch." he said, as if reading your mind.

"No!" you said a little too quickly. "I mean, I'd feel a lot safer if you were here with me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Oh." his smile was shy. "Then I'll be here with you."

Gosh, he is so sweet!, you thought, feeling overwhelmed that such a sweet person was your very own match. Not even a day with him and he already checked so many of your boxes. You hoped he felt the same for you.

"We have separate bathrooms." Felix noted and you looked to the right to see a door labeled with your name and on the left his name.

"I think there are no cameras in there, so that's why..." he trailed off and immediately you felt your stomach doing flips. They were really making sure you don't do any funny business which was kind of understandable since everything was being filmed. But then again, why wouldn't they make a special room for the two of you? You had so many questions and any possible answer created even more questions.

The two of you then decided to unpack, the sounds of opening and closing drawers filling up the space.

"We have a backyard." Felix said as he stood by the window in your room. "And a pool."

"It looks cozy except the pool. I don't know how to swim." you confessed, shivering a little.

"Really?" Felix looked a bit surprised. "Well, I love swimming so you can sunbathe while I swim?" he added with a giggle.

"I can." you nodded. "The entire house and the neighborhood looks so nice. Which brings me to this, have you seen another person since you got here?" you asked and Felix shook his head no.

"Neither have I. Weird, huh?" you said.

Felix opened his mouth to answer but the sound the doorbell ringing frightened you both.

"Is that... someone at the door?" he lifted one eyebrow.

"Let's go check together." you stood by his side as your heart hammered in your chest.

Felix walked first and you followed behind him, peering over his shoulders as he slowly opened the door.

You were greeted by a smiling woman and man, standing somewhat similarly to you and Felix.

"Hello, sorry to bother you. I'm Gina and this is Ethan. We were paired up today and noticed we were neighbours so we just wanted to say hi."

"Oh." Felix chuckled and you visibly relaxed, now standing beside him.

"This is y/n, and I'm Felix. Nice to meet you." you all shook hands, deciding to meet up tomorrow for breakfast since the program encouraged couples who were paired up at the same time to become friends.

"You okay?" Felix asked after closing the door.

"I just can't shake off this weird feeling." you shook your head.

Felix bit on his lip, his eyes raking all over your form gently as you hugged yourself. Tentatively, he reach out and brushed his knuckles on your cheek.

"I'm sure you just need time to adjust." he smiled, and you shivered from his gentle touch, your eyes fluttering.

"Yeah. Maybe a good night's sleep is all I need."

"There you go. Positive thoughts." Felix smiled brightly, warming you up instantly.

You got ready in your separate bathrooms and you came out first, claiming your side of the bed as you sat, leaning your back against the headboard and fidgeting with your fingers. Felix came in after a minute or so, smiling at you slightly as he hesitantly lifted up the covers and slid in.

"You sure you're okay with this?" he turned to you, his deep brown eyes looking big and doe like.

"Yes, I'm comfortable." you nodded. "You?"

"Of course. Just making sure you feel okay." Felix then smiled sweetly, making your stomach flip again.

"I am." you whispered. "Um, it's just weird not to have my phone to play with before sleeping." you looked around, noticing a stack of books on a shelf.

"Tell me about it. I'm like chronically online, it's a problem." Felix shook his head with a chuckle. "Or like playing videogames. My computer will be so dusty when we get out of here."

You giggled at him as he scrunched up his face and made a cute whiny sound.

"I like videogames too. We should play together soon."

"Wow, you really are the girl of my dreams." Felix looked at you, wiggling his eyebrows and you laughed, your entire body on fire from the giddiness he made you feel.

He slid down then, getting comfy on his side and you followed suit, relaxing between the clean sheets and melting into the soft pillow.

"How long do you think it will take us to get out of here?" you whispered after a few moments of silence.

"I hope not too long." Felix whispered back. "Sweet dreams, y/n." he added after another pause.

"Night, Felix." you smiled before turning on your side and closing your eyes.

You were nervous for what's to come but Felix's presence gave you a sense of comfort and safety you didn't know you needed. Just the sound of his breathing calmed you down and slowly lulled you to sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open and for a moment you were completely confused. You blinked a few times, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes as you took in your surroundings.

Right. You had come to the Village of Love yesterday, with your match. Which made you turn around quickly and gasp when you noticed the other side of the bed was empty.

"F-Felix?" you said, your voice a little raspy from sleeping. For a moment, you felt the dread creeping in but then you heard clinking, followed by a few curses coming from downstairs.

Upon arriving to the kitchen you were greeted by a frantic and disheveled Felix. You had to supress in a laugh, but it still seeped out in small giggles.

"Oh, y/n!" he exclaimed, turning around with his eyes slightly widened and his pink lips parted. "I barely slept last night so I got up like at 6am? I wanted to make myself useful so I tried making pancakes? I swear they taste better than they look! It's just that I'm usually not a morning person so-"

"Felix." you stopped his rambling, coming closer to him as you chuckled into your palm, your other hand gently placed on his arm to soothe him.

"Felix, it's okay. I'm sure the pancakes are delicious." you looked down at the half burned scraps of pancakes. "It's the thought that counts." you added with a giggle. "Aren't we meeting our neighbors for breakfast anyways?"

"Oh. That's right, we are. I'm silly." he sighed, turning the stove off with a defeated pout.

"You're cute." you said without thinking, your cheeks warming up as soon as those words left your mouth.

"You think so?" Felix chuckled, a little smirk forming on his lips and you nodded as he stared at you intently. "You're cuter." he leaned in, his breath hitting your face and you almost dissolved right then and there.

"Oh, shut up." you chuckled, making him laugh. "Let's go get dressed."

You got ready in your separate bathrooms, wondering how everything will play out for however long you'll be here. You decided to wear a dress with a floral pattern, something comfy and flowy. You hoped Felix would like it as much as you did.

And he seemed to be stunned the moment you walked out of the bathroom, giving you elevator eyes as he gulped visibly, his cheeks becoming rosy. You stood there nervously as he seemed to be lost in a trance.

"Felix?"

"Oh." he looked up at your face, the redness creeping up on his neck. "You look really pretty."

"Thank you." you giggled, your heart rate picking up while he smiled at you.

"Shall we?" he asked, reaching his hand towards you. You nodded, sliding your hand into his, your palms pressed together and fingers entwined.

They fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle that were waiting to be completed forever.

You met up with Gina and Ethan who were also holding hands, waving at you enthusiastically.

"Morning, neighbors!" Ethan smiled at the two of you.

"Good morning." you smiled back as everyone greeted each other.

"Did you get the map of the village?" Gina asked and Felix nodded.

"Found it in the living room this morning."

"Us too. Isn't it crazy having all these cameras around?" Gina chuckled and you looked around, noticing that all over the neighborhood there were cameras on every lamp post, every driveway, every front door.

The uneasiness settled in your chest again and you squeezed Felix's hand. He looked at you, squeezing back and giving you a small, reassuring smile. The restaurant wasn't too far away, it was a garden with lots of big trees giving shade to the tables, the sweet smell of colorful flowers mixed with the nice smell of food being cooked, making you even more hungry than you were. Finally, you saw other couples, chatting at different tables and you felt much more at ease. It felt normal.

There was soft music playing from the little building where you presumed the kitchen and servers were situated. The four of you found a table near a koi pond, excitement taking over you as you looked at the pretty fishes swimming around.

"I was about to reach for my phone and take a picture." Felix chuckled and Ethan nodded.

"Same." he said and you shook your head, thinking about how you'd probably do the same thing.

You stared at the koi fishes, who seemed to be mindlessly floating back and forth, confined in such a small pond. You wondered if they ever wanted more freedom, a bigger pond or was this all they knew so they could never think about having more space. Maybe they felt safe in a familiar, tiny enviroment.

One of the servers came to your table with a pen and notepad, writing down your orders and snapping you out of your thoughts.

The four of you made small talk before your food arrived.

"At least these pancakes look better than mine." Felix noted when the plate was placed before him and you chuckled.

"So, what do you guys think the tests will look like?" Gina asked suddenly while you ate. You looked up at the camera above your table and swallowed nervously.

"Isn't it kinda like a video game? We got a map of the place, we will have objectives or tests, we got our 'safe room', like our house where we have supplies..." Felix started and Ethan chuckled.

"I just hope there are no zombies or such. Or like damage." he added and the four of you laughed.

"I'm sure it can't be that bad." you said.

"How high is your percentage?" Gina asked.

"89%." you answered and she gasped a little.

"Ours is 74%. I guess we'll be here longer than y'all." she pouted.

"Well, we can't know that. When we have no idea what awaits us." Ethan said. He was right, you had no idea what Cupid Corp. planned out to put your connection to the test. Your eyes fell on the pond again, the koi fishes spinning around and around in circles, the repetitive motion almost making you dizzy.

~

"Do you wanna take a walk around the village?" Felix asked after you parted ways with the friendly couple next door.

"Yeah, sounds good. I need to get some blood flowing in my legs, we sat for so long."

"We did, I think we clicked with them too. Could it be they put us close to each other so we could become friends?" Felix asked when the two of you started walking, your hands entwined again, making your heart beat faster.

"Probably. I have a feeling nothing is random here." you pursed your lips.

"Me too." he agreed.

The village was really something out of a fairytale book. Not only were the houses cute but there was a cute bakery, a gallery, a flower shop, a cafe and a few other stores for groceries and such scattered around. There was even a little park for picnics and a forest to ride your bike or take a walk there. You saw other people working in all the buildings and couples walking around or sitting in the cafe or riding their bikes. It looked different than yesterday, when everything seemed eerily quiet and abandoned.

You and Felix talked about your families and job, getting to know some random facts about each other as you walked around, the sun warming your bodies up. It felt like you knew each other forever.

That evening, you decided to have your first movie night date. After a short debate since you were both indecisive, you settled on Clueless, a classic, and prepared some snacks and blankets to make the viewing more cozy.

Felix seemed a little nervous and fidgety as you got comfy on the couch, some distance created between you. He played with his fingers and the blanket, picking on it as you clicked play on the tv.

"You okay?" you asked and he nodded quickly, grabbing the bowl of popcorn.

"It's just... I like to cuddle while watching movies. Or um, I like to cuddle whenever, a lot. Physical touch is definitely one of my biggest love languages. I hope you're okay with that." Felix confessed, redness covering his freckled cheeks.

You sighed in relief, a giggle escaping your lips as you scooted closer to him, making his breath hitch.

"Okay? I'm estatic. I'm a big cuddler, it's one of my top love languages too." you nodded and Felix smiled sweetly at you.

"Right. I keep forgetting we matched so well and start feeling nervous. I don't wanna do something wrong, you know? And with the cameras watching, it adds to the awkwardness." he explained.

"I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable with anything, okay? And you tell me too. Open communication is important." you said and Felix nodded, agreeing. "And forget about the cameras for now. I'm trying not to think about them supervising us the entire time. Let's just enjoy the movie."

"You're really sweet, y/n." Felix smiled cutely, his eyes shining as he stared at you, tongue darting out to wet his plump lips.

You followed the movement for a second, your heart fluttering.

"Says you." you chuckled, poking his cheek and he giggled, relaxing next to you and scooting even closer so that your legs and shoulders touched.

Pretty soon, both of you were relaxed, forgetting that you were being filmed as you enjoyed the movie, laughing and repeating the iconic lines. Your head ended up on Felix's shoulder at one point and his heart started beating fast instantly, his hand reaching for yours. He caressed your skin with his thumb as you giggled at the tv. You've never felt this comfortable with someone you just met.

The entire day was filled with positive experiences that you almost forgot about the weird dread gathering in the pit of your stomach.

You felt a huge attraction towards Felix, your body craved to be in his warmth and when you laid in bed next to him that night, you wanted nothing more than to roll over and hold him. But maybe it was too early for that, you thought as nervousness washed over you.

"Good night, y/n." his warm voice was quiet in the darkness of the room.

"Good night, Felix."

~

The man in the chair leaned over his computer, typing in the log of the day. The two of you were perfect subjects for this village, both of you sweet and kind, ready to welcome each other into your lives. He looked at all the screens that filmed your quiet house, eyes lingering on your calm, sleeping forms. Soon, everything will change.

A whole week has passed by perfectly. It was a little too quiet, too perfect for your liking. You wondered when the actual tests would start, when you were gonna get an envelope with some objective you have to fulfill. It made you feel uneasy the entire time and you had always trusted your intuition so you knew your gut feeling was right.

You had expressed this to Felix and even though he was nervous about the whole experience too, he tried to reassure you that it can't be that bad. That maybe the test had already started by just watching the two of you interact with each other.

It sounded plausible so it calmed you down just a little bit.

At the same time, you couldn't deny the connection building between you and your match. Felix was everything you ever wanted and more, kind and thoughtful, funny and sweet, he listened to you with interest, happy to know every little detail about you; his heart was pure and full of love, not just for you but for everyone. He made you melt on the spot with just one look and smile.

Every time you cuddled while watching movies, you got a little closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you, messing with your senses. You loved being close to him like that and he loved being held or holding you, it didn't matter as long as you were embracing each other in any way.

"It's such a beautiful sunny day. We could have a date by the pool?" Felix suggested one morning, batting his eyelashes at you and pouting cutely.

"Oh, sure. But I'll be watching you as I sunbathe because well, you know." you shrugged.

"Are you scared of the water? I could help you, teach you how to swim. It's good to face your fears." he smiled encouragingly and you chuckled, grabbing his hand.

"Maybe it is. I'll think about it." you smiled.

"Great! That's progress." Felix leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek and it was enough to make your heart burst.

For some reason, you didn't think about how the two of you will be almost naked by the pool and that thought crossed your mind only after you put your bathing suit on in the bathroom. A little gasp escaped your lips as your cheeks became completely red.

You decided to throw a little dress over your frame before you walked into the room. Felix was already waiting for you, dressed in swim trunks and a t-shirt. You blushed at the sight of his legs, mentally scolding yourself and trying to calm down your heart.

Felix didn't hesitate to throw his shirt off as soon as you got to the pool. Your eyes immediately went to his abs and chest, a warmness spreading within you as you shifted. He noticed your look, his face and ears warming up. He smirked a little, enjoying the fact that he made you squirm.

"Ugh, I- I left my sunscreen upstairs." you whined.

"I'll go get it for you." Felix said. "Is it in the bathroom?"

You nodded and thanked him as he made his way into the house. After you took your dress off, your attention was grabbed by a sloshing sound of water inside the pool. Your brows furrowed, there was no wind. You gulped, coming closer to the edge of the pool, staring at your distorted reflection as the water kept sloshing.

It was just a milisecond, you couldn't react or realize what was happening, it was as if something invisible had pulled you into the water. With a loud splash your body was submerged under the surface as you started flailing your arms and legs, bubbles coming up where you were desperately trying to breathe. You managed to pull your head above water for a second, panicking as you tried to grab onto the edge of the pool, turning around just in time to see Felix running towards the pool with a terrified expression on his face. You couldn't keep yourself above water but just before you were completely submerged again, a pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you up to the surface.

You gasped, trying to catch your breath as you clutched onto Felix and he pulled you close, pressing your body into his.

"You're okay, love. I got you. I got you." he kept repeating as he caressed you, holding you tightly as he led you to the shallow part of the pool.

Tears spilled out of your eyes as you sobbed, wrapping your arms around Felix's body, your face buried in his neck.

"It's okay. I'm here. Shh." he tried to soothe you as your body shook against him.

Neither of you noticed the shadow moving away from the window inside your kitchen.

"Let's get you out." Felix led you towards one of the chairs and you sat down as he wrapped a towel around you. He caressed your hair shortly as he grabbed another chair, pulling it closer so it was facing you. He sat down and grabbed your face gently.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I- I don't know." your lips trembled.

"I was just standing there and next thing I know, I'm underwater."

"Maybe you slipped?" Felix wondered, his brows furrowed.

"No, it was like something pulled me in." you swallowed and Felix looked back at the calm water.

"Well, whatever it was I am not leaving you alone by the pool anymore. I won't let this happen to you again." he promised, pulling you into a hug, your cheek pressed against his chest. You shivered as you held onto him, but this time it was because you felt his skin against yours. Sure, you held onto him in the pool but you were in such a state of panic that you didn't even feel your body let alone his.

You leaned back a little and looked up at Felix. His eyes travelled down to your lips and he licked at his. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies as your face neared his. Felix held you tighter as your hot breaths mingled, before he pressed his plump lips on yours. You melted instantly as you started moving together, kissing gently and savoring every second of your lips touching like that.

It felt like it was meant to be, like you were made to kiss his lips and he was made to be yours. Felix licked at your bottom lip and you parted them, letting his tongue touch and play with yours. Pressing your body against his even more, you almost forgot about Cupid Corp., the cameras, the pool. But when he bit on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, his hands squeezing your waist, you had a moment of clarity and pulled away with a gasp.

"We can't get carried away." you panted and Felix nodded, swallowing as his dark eyes lingered on your lips. His cheeks were red, his hair messy and his lips looked even more pink after kissing you.

"Sorry. I couldn't help myself, love. I'm really attracted to you." Felix said, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Me too. I like you a lot, Lixie." you smiled and he chuckled sweetly, pressing a few kisses on your lips and cheeks.

"I like you a lot too. I'm so glad I signed up for this program." he said, pulling you into another hug.

"I'm glad to be here too." you tangled your hands in his hair, caressing him and he sighed happily.

"Do you still wanna stay by the pool or you wanna do something else?" he asked and you looked at the water.

"I'll sit here and you go swim." you smiled.

"Are you sure?"

"100%." you nodded and with that, he pecked your lips again and practically skipped towards the pool. You giggled to yourself, knowing he really wanted to swim so you were content with sitting by the pool and just watching his beautiful form in the water.

Goosebumps rose on your neck and you turned to look at the house, feeling like there was some kind of presence there. You tried shrugging it off as you turned back to Felix, watching him having fun and waving at you cutely.

When he got out of the water, you couldn't help the admiration in your eyes as they raked all over his naked wet body, the droplets of water sliding from his chest to his abs and disappearing under the waistband of his swim trunks. Your throat was very much dry in that moment, but your panties were not. Felix smirked at you as he walked slowly, probably trying to seduce you even though you already folded.

He leaned over you, his hands on the armrests of the chair, the water from his body dripping onto yours.

"Enjoyed the view?" he asked as you looked up at him.

"Very much so." you smirked back and he leaned in to kiss you.

"I'm glad you did." he kissed you again. "Let's get inside, it's getting dark." Felix added and the two of you made your way into your house.

As soon as you walked in, a loud beeping noise scared the both of you. You covered your ears as Felix looked around.

"What is that?!" you asked.

"I don't know." Felix yelled over the piercing noise. He followed it with you trailing behind him and holding onto his back.

"Oh. Look!" he exclaimed, grabbing the round device you had gotten in the mail.

As soon as he clicked the button, the loud sound stopped, the screen lighting up.

90%. Congratulations, Felix and Y/n!

"D-did we get a point because of me drowning in the pool?" you shivered.

"I think we got a point 'cause I saved you." Felix bit on his lip, his expression turning into one of worry. You looked up at the camera in the kitchen, your eyes wide. Just what kind of sick game were Cupid Corp. playing? And what did they have in store for you?

~

"You think they really tried to drown me on purpose?" you asked Felix when the two of you got under the covers.

"It seems so." he said as he chewed on his lip.

"I think they could escalate things." you gulped and Felix looked at you, scooting closer to your side.

"What kind of test is that? Who wouldn't jump in to save someone they love? And even someone they don't know. I'd jump in anyways." Felix got upset.

"I know, I don't understand either."

"At least we are closer to 100%." Felix said, reaching out for you. You got closer to him and he smiled sweetly, his arm wrapping around your waist.

"Will you let me hold you like this?" he whispered, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours.

"Yeah, of course." you whispered back, kissing his sweet lips.

"I'll keep you safe, love." he smiled.

"I hope they don't hurt you."

"They can try. I'm stronger than I seem."

"I belive that." you nuzzled into him as you wrapped around each other. It felt so good to be in his embrace, like nothing bad could ever happen to you.

When Felix opened his eyes the next morning and saw you sleeping so soundly in his arms, he almost melted into a puddle. He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, caressing your face as his sleepy eyes observed you.

It didn't take long for you to wake up too, seeing that Felix was already looking at you made you whine and shut your eyes tightly.

"Don't look at me." you said.

"Why?" Felix chuckled as you tried hiding your face with your hands.

"Because I don't look the best when I wake up."

"What are you talking about?" Felix gently moved your hands away. "You're beautiful." he added and leaned in to kiss you but you blocked him quickly with your hand.

"Morning breath."

"Do I look like I care?" he giggled against your palm, grabbing your hand in his and kissing you despite your protests.

"So beautiful." he rasped.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a sweet talker?" you smirked.

"No, but I'll take that as a compliment." Felix giggled. "Mm. Let's stay like this." he pulled you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head.

"I'd love to. But don't we have a brunch with Gina and Ethan?"

"Ugh. We do. Five more minutes." Felix said and you giggled, pressing your lips into his pulse. You heard his breath hitch and felt him tremble as your lips brushed against his skin.

"Don't make it harder for me to resist you, love." he whispered and kissed your head, making your cheeks warm up instantly.

"Sorry." you leaned back and he gave you a lazy smirk as he played with your hair.

~

"Ethan is sick." Gina whispered to the two of you after you rang the doorbell.

"Sick?" your brows furrowed as you noticed her eyes being shifty, darting left to right like she was on high alert, looking around to spot danger.

"Yes. High fever. Tremors. Headache." she craned her neck to look behind the two of you and you followed her eyesight, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

"I have to go. I have to go. They're watching, you know? They're watching." she murmured before disappearing into the darkness of her house and closing the door, the clicking sound indicating she had locked it.

"T-that was weird." you swallowed.

"Very weird." Felix backed away, pulling you with him. "You wanna go to brunch still?"

"Yeah." you nodded as the two of you walked away from your neighbor's house.

You kept throwing glances back, noticing the curtain on one of the windows moving as a figure disappeared behind it.

You couldn't stop thinking about the state Gina was in and what the hell was happening inside her house?

Sitting by the koi pond, you couldn't help but think that all of you were just koi fishes and the village was just one small pond that was being observed by a bigger creature.

"You okay?" Felix put his arm around your shoulder, his other hand placed on your knee.

"Just worried about Gina and Ethan. And... us."

"Us?"

"What if the same happens to us. Or worse." you swallowed, your eyes becoming big as you looked at Felix, fear bubbling up inside you.

"It won't."

"How do you know that?" you asked, your eyes filling up with tears.

"I'll keep us safe, I promise." Felix pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead.

Your heart was still hammering in your chest, your stomach churning.

Something was wrong.

~

"Y/n, do you trust me?" Felix held you as the two of you stood in the shallow part of the pool.

"I do. It's just-"

"You're scared, I know. If it becomes too much, we'll get out immediately. But I'd love it if you at least tried. I'll hold you the entire time, okay? I won't let you out of my sight."

His reassuring words chipped away at your fear, replacing it with warmness and safety. You've never met someone like Felix, someone who was so invested in helping you get over your phobia.

"Okay, we'll start walking first." he pulled you in, holding you against him as you clutched at him.

"Relax." he tried soothing you as his hands caressed you and slowly but surely you started feeling relaxed.

"I'll hold you and swim. You try to move your legs like I told you, okay?" Felix guided you and you struggled a little at the beginning but the more he smiled at you and reassured you, the more confident you felt.

"Just stay close." you said.

"Of course, sweetheart." he smiled and your heart leaped out of your chest as your face warmed up.

Soon, you didn't even realize you were moving on your own, with Felix hovering next to you.

"You did it, y/n!" he laughed, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into his body.

"All thanks to you, Lixie." you giggled, turning around in his arms so you could look at him.

"Well, you had the will to try so it's on you too." he said, pecking your lips. His kisses were addictive, whenever he'd press his lips on yours, it was hard to stop as the two of you clung onto each other like you've been glued together.

The kisses escalated as your tongues massaged each other, your hands roaming on his freckled back. Your legs wrapped around him and he pulled you in closer, chest against chest, his hands on your butt.

"F-Felix." you stuttered, nails digging into his shoulders when you felt his erection brushing against your core.

"I'm sorry." his arms wrapped around your waist as he buried his face in your neck, lapping at the droplets of water dripping down your skin. "I can't help it. You're so delicious, sweetheart." he nipped at your sensitive neck.

"T-the cameras." you looked around at the five different cameras in the backyard.

"I know. I know." Felix kissed your lips with a huff before he swam you both back to the shallow part.

"You can get out if you want. And give me a second to calm down." he looked at you sheepishly.

"Okay." you giggled, wrapping your body up with a towel.

Felix swam a little more while you made some lemonade, keeping an eye on him from the kitchen window.

He got out just in time as you brought the refreshing drink outside. He wiped his body with the towel quickly, throwing it aside as he pulled you closer, making you squeal, the two of you losing balance. You ended up in his lap as he sat in the chair and you chuckled as he squeezed you tightly, rubbing his cheek against your back.

"Are you sure this is a smart position right now?" you asked and he smirked at you.

Before he could answer, the familiar beeping sound blasted next to the two of you. Your heads snapped towards the device you brought everywhere, hoping the percentage would go up.

"Felix! 92%!" you gasped when you grabbed it.

"92? How did we get two points?" he stared at it.

"I have no idea! But we should celebrate. Just 8 more. And then we can leave together." you smiled as you turned you body towards him.

"I can't wait, my love." Felix smiled, leaving kisses on your arm.

You wondered why you got two points. And if it was really that easy.

~

That night, Felix was clingier than usual, completely wrapped around you as he spooned you. His lips kept pressing gentle kisses on your neck and shoulder, making goosebumps rise on your skin, heat erupting inside you.

Felix couldn't help it anymore, his own body betrayed him as he got excited again, being so close to you, feeling you pressed against him, he craved nothing more than to be even closer to you.

"L-Lix." you felt him against your backside.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. Don't worry about it, it'll go away." Felix whimpered quietly, and you squeezed his wrist as he pressed into you tighter, unable to contain himself.

"It's okay." you guided his hand down to your panties, feeling desperate for his touch too.

"Y/n." he whispered. "What about the camera?"

"It's dark. And they can't see under the covers. As long as we stay quiet and don't move too much, we should be fine." you whispered back, pushing his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear.

"That's a test within itself." Felix joked and you giggled.

"Please, Felix." you begged as he hesitated.

"Fuck, baby. You don't have to beg for me. You have me always." he bit on your shoulder, his fingers exploring until they pressed into your clit when you spread your legs just a little so he can have more access. Felix started drawing slow figure eights on your sensitive clit, dipping his fingertips into your heat to gather some wetness and smear it around.

Your breath hitched and you gripped onto the cover, bringing it closer to your lips so you could muffle the little sighs coming out. His tongue darted out to lick at you neck as he played with your clit, moving slower but pressing hard. Felix sunk his teeth into your neck, sucking on it and creating a purple bruise marking you as his. You moaned quietly and he shushed you, teasing your little clit and making you clench around nothing.

"Felix." you said quietly.

"Yes, baby?" he whispered between kisses.

"I wanna touch you too." you said, so quiet so that only he could hear it. Felix's cock twitched against the back of your thigh.

"Okay." he said and you turned around, sliding your panties off and pushing them aside. Felix did the same with his underwear and grabbed your leg, putting it over his so he could spread you a little.

His hand was back between your legs, now without any tight obstacles and you had to bite back a moan as your eyes flitted towards the red dot blinking in the corner. You gripped the cover and pulled it up, only leaving some space for air and so you and Felix can kind of see each other.

You sneaked your hand down his chest and abs, fingers playing with his happy trail leading down to his leaky cock. The tip was already wet with pre cum and Felix almost groaned when you touched him, smearing it around as your fingers massaged him.

"B-baby." the tip of his nose touched yours and he leaned in to kiss you as your hand wrapped around his length. He sighed into your mouth and you swallowed it, breathing in his air while he slowly pushed his finger inside your welcoming heat.

You bit on his lower lip when he pushed in deep, your pussy clenching and begging for more. Felix groaned quietly, pushing into your hand while you moved it slowly, giving him gentle pleasure. Both of you moved in sync with each other, keeping the slow and torturous pace that was somehow sweet. You were both lingering on edge, wanting more.

Felix pulled his finger out and before you could protest, he started pushing two fingers in. The entire time you were making out, swallowing each other's moans and breaths.

"God, faster please." Felix whispered and you looked at the direction of the camera again, excitement rushing through you at the thought of getting caught. You sped up, pumping his cock as he fucked your pussy harder.

"Shh, quiet down love." he said when you started moaning silently.

"Sorry." you whispered and leaned in to kiss his neck. Felix immediately threw his head back, a quiet grunt escaping his lips as you attacked his skin with bites and kisses, flicking your wrist.

"I- I- can't." Felix groaned quietly. "Y/n." his fingers stilled inside you as he came, spilling his hot cum on your thigh, hand and the sheets. You helped him ride his high, kissing his lips and whispering quiet praises against them.

"Bring your legs up." he said, pressing your legs together, sliding his arm under your knees and lifting them towards him.

"Wh-what..."

"Shh. Trust me, sweetheart." he said as he leaned over you a little, his fingers sliding on your wet slit. He slowly pushed them back in, the position of your legs lifted up and pressed together like you were in a fetal position added to the pressure between your legs, his fingertips pressing right into your sweet spot.

"F-Felix!" you whimpered and he pressed his free hand against your lips, shushing you as he started fucking his fingers in and out of you.

You feared that this was definitely visible on the camera, the movement of his hand was too frantic under the sheets. Your muffled whines made Felix lean in and leave sweet kisses on your face.

"Shh, it's okay, just relax and let go, sweetheart." he cooed at you, his tongue licking at your ear.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he removed his hand from your face and pressed his lips on yours, his fingers ramming into your sweet spot repeatedly.

"Lix." you whined against his lips as he licked at them.

"Cum for me love." he encouraged and your pussy clenched around his fingers, your heart beating out of your chest as you let go, spilling your release on his fingers, some of it ending up on the mattress below you.

"Shit." he cursed quietly, caressing your wet pussy.

You clutched onto him, kissing him again like you needed it to breathe.

"You okay?" he asked, his hand searching around for his boxers.

"Y-yeah." you answered. "You?"

"More than okay." he smiled as he grabbed the boxers and cleaned both of you up as much as he could. "Um. We can't really change the sheets now, it would look suspicious." he added, throwing both of your underwear sneakily on the floor next to his side, where the camera wouldn't see.

"We can sleep on your side?"

Felix smiled and pulled you over, making you giggle quietly as the two of you settled against each other. He buried his face in your neck, his hand gently caressing your figure as you played with his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks.

The man in the chair smirked. Bingo.

When your eyes fluttered open the next morning, you were greeted with the cutest sight. Felix was still sleeping, his face smushed against the pillow as he drooled a little. Overwhelmed with your growing feelings for him, you leaned in and bit at his cheek.

Felix groaned quietly and you giggled, kissing where you had bitten him before you went lower, biting his neck and then his shoulder.

"Y/n." his deep voice made you shiver and you giggled against his soft skin again before sinking your teeth into his arm. His eyes fluttered open as he smacked his lips and looked at you.

"Interesting way to wake me up, not gonna lie." he smirked a little before grabbing you and making you squeal as he suddenly flipped the two of you, him being on top.

"Felix!" you chuckled when his fingers ghosted on your sides, tickling you slightly.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he smirked, burying his face in your neck and teasing you with little licks and kisses.

"D-don't. It's daytime, the camera-"

"I'm just gonna bite you a little. Return the favor." he blew on your neck before biting into your skin and sucking. You had to bite on your lip to stop yourself from moaning. Isn't this prohibited too?

"F-Felix, you have to stop." you whined.

"You're lucky the cameras are here. Otherwise, nothing would be able to save you from me." he wiggled his eyebrows and you chuckled, playfully pushing him away.

The morning started beautifully and you completely forgot about the rules whenever Felix smiled at you. You were both walking on cloud 9 and you couldn't wait to get out of this place so you can go anywhere with him by your side.

"Do you think they saw us last night?" Felix asked while the two of you munched on your food.

"I hope not." you said, your cheeks becoming red as you looked away from him.

"Getting shy on me, sweetheart?" Felix smirked, fingers brushing against your cheek.

"A little." you confessed, biting on your lip as your heart sped up.

"Don't be." he smiled wide as he leaned in, pecking your face with kisses. You started chuckling before you grabbed his face and kissed his lips.

"There. Better?" you asked and he nodded.

"Much better." Felix said and stood up to put his plate away. You took another sip of your coffee before a loud crash made you jump.

You turned around instantly to see the plate broken into pieces and Felix grabbing at his stomach.

"F-Felix?" you stood up abruptly, your chair flying on the floor.

Felix struggled to open his mouth and speak, he struggled to breathe as he clutched at both his stomach and chest.

"Oh my god! Felix!" you cried, grabbing at him as his face got red and his eyes watered.

"W-what is happening?!" you panicked, not having any kind of phone or knowing what to do in that moment. You turned to the camera in the corner.

"Help us, you fucking assholes!" you yelled at the camera as Felix shook and heaved in your arms.

A moment passed and his breathing started getting more normal, his face becoming paler in contrast to the redness that appeared before. His eyes were glassy, hands shaking as he slumped against you, falling to his knees. You quickly wrapped your arms around him as he gripped at you, seeking comfort from you. Heat radiated from his body and you touched his forehead, realizing he was burning up with a fever.

"Oh, Felix. Can you hear me?" you held his face in your hands as he looked through you.

His lips opened and closed a few times and he blinked before focusing on your eyes.

"I-it hurts." he rasped, his fingers desperately digging into your arms.

"What hurts, baby?" your body filled up with fear and anger. They did this.

"Everything." Felix sniffled and you helped him get up as he leaned on you.

"Let's get you to the couch." you led him to the living room before making him sit down. He looked horrible, a 180 from just a few moments ago when everything was normal. He was sweating profusely, his skin pale, his breathing heavy.

The doorbell suddenly rang, making you jolt.

"I'll be right back." you said, covering Felix up with a blanket as he was shivering even though he was burning up.

You had no idea who to expect at the door, maybe a paramedic, maybe a savior, maybe an explanation.

But you didn't expect Gina.

"G-Gina?" you eyes widened.

"Here." she shoved a box in your arms.

"W-what is this?" you asked.

"Medicine. They said... I had to deliver it to you. He'll be okay like Ethan. Just be careful. Be careful. They watch, you know? They know everything. They know." she looked a little panicked before she turned around, murmuring to herself and repeating how they watch and they know.

You opened up the box and sure enough there were different vitamins, medicine and bags of tea inside it.

You turned to look at the camera with a scowl on your face before you rushed off to Felix.

"Y/n." Felix whimpered, his bottom lip trembling as he looked up at you with teary eyes.

"It's okay, baby. You'll be okay." you tried to calm him down even though you were panicking too. You quickly fluffed up the pillows and helped him lie down.

"Are you comfy?" you asked.

"C-cold." he shivered, clutching onto the blanket.

"I'll bring another blanket for you." you said.

"Don't leave me!" Felix looked panicked as he gripped at your wrist.

"I won't, I'll be right back, I promise." you leaned down to kiss his burning forehead. He made a little noise but still let you go, albeit reluctantly. After finding another blanket, you tucked him in, taking it upon you to make him some tea, give him medicine and try to get his fever down however you could. You say next to his legs and placed a wet cloth on his forehead making him whine as he threw his arm around your thighs.

It was weird. The way he suddenly developed a high fever was unnatural. He wasn't sneezing or coughing, just shaking and sweating. You racked your brain, spinning different scenarios in your head and ways of how they could make him sick.

Then it clicked. The food.

But, how did you not get sick, just Felix? You couldn't understand how it was possible for these faceless and nameless individuals to play god with your health and safety. And what the hell did that have to do with you being a good match?

You wondered if the two of you could leave before you get to 100. You've never heard of such cases but surely there was a way? Maybe you could run away? Who could stop you, right? You have free will and you can leave whenever you want, you're not a prisoner.

"Y/n." Felix said weakly, his eyes fluttering open.

"Lixie. How do you feel? Any better?" you asked and he nodded.

"A bit." he said.

"I'll make you some soup." you said, knowing you have no other choice than to trust that not all your groceries were laced with some kind of virus.

"Okay." he said and you caressed his face shortly before standing up.

"Call me if you need anything. I won't be long." you said and he nodded again.

As the soup boiled, so did your anger. First they try to drown you then they make Felix sick? What's next on the menu? You looked up at the camera for the nth time.

"Hurt him again and I'll find you." you said quietly but the man behind the screen heard you, typing away on his laptop. He felt a bit bad for you but there was nothing he could do, he was just tasked to watch and report the progress.

"Can you sit up?" you asked Felix after you brought the warm soup to the living room.

"Ugh. Help me." Felix whimpered and you wrapped your arms around him as he held onto you, pulling him into a sitting position.

"I feel weakness in my arms and legs." he muttered.

"You'll be back on your feet in no time." you tried to soothe him as you sat next to him. "If they don't lace more of our food with a virus."

"How are you so sure?" Felix gulped.

"Because I'm taking care of you. And if they try something again I will burn this fucking village down." you made sure the camera picked up what you said and Felix let out a pained chuckle, grabbing at his side.

"Feeling protective over me?" he asked and your cheeks reddened instantly.

"I- I mean... Yes." you nodded and he smiled.

"If I wasn't in so much pain, I'd be really turned on right now." he said and you giggled, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Shut up and eat your soup."

"Feed me?" he pouted.

"Sure." you chuckled, shaking your head a little as he acted cute. Well cuter than usually.

"Will you cuddle me?" he asked after you managed to feed him the soup without making too much of a mess and you nodded, scooting closer to him and covering yourself up with the blanket too.

"Come here." you whispered and Felix leaned in, pressing his forehead into your neck. He was still warm but less than before and you hoped that the worst had passed.

"I don't think it was the food." he whispered suddenly, making goosebumps rise on your skin. The tv was loud enough to not let the camera hear what you were whispering about and after glancing at it you glanced down at Felix's sleepy face pressed against your chest.

"What do you mean?" you whispered into his hair.

"Look at my arm. Very carefully." he whispered back and you pretended to caress him until you uncovered his sleeve, acting nonchalant for the camera. Your brows furrowed as you stared.

"Is that a needle mark?" you asked.

"I think so." he looked up at you and you covered him up and held him tighter against you.

"You think they snuck in while we were sleeping and put some kind of virus into your body?" you asked and he nodded against you.

"That's sick. That's really sick. I- I think we should leave."

"We can't, not until we get to a 100." Felix said, rubbing his cheek against you and squeezing you tighter.

"B-but what if they do something worse?"

"It'll be okay." he muttered as he drifted off.

You sighed, running your hand through his hair soothingly as you stared at the tv absentmindedly, a random movie from the dvd collection playing on it.

You looked at him occasionally, admiring his cute sleeping face. Did you really have to wait until 100 to start your life with Felix?

Over the course of the next two days, you had been by Felix's side the entire time. The medicine worked perfectly and pretty soon Felix was back to his old self, healthy and full of energy.

"Y/n. Love." he held you tightly. "Thank you for taking care of me." he stared at you with sparkly eyes before he kissed you like his life depended on it, stealing your breath away.

"Of course." you smiled as you parted.

The loud sound of the device startled you both. Felix neared it, picking it up and looking at the screen.

"95." he scoffed.

"For what? Almost killing you." you said. "This is some sick game to you, isn't it?" you turned to the camera then, furious.

"Sweetheart, don't. We're almost done." Felix pulled you into him. "I have a plan." he whispered into your hair and you nodded.

You were going to escape the village.

~

That night, you got ready for bed as usual, your hands reaching to open the covers so you could get in. Before you could even touch the blanket, you were grabbed as Felix wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, almost making you scream.

"Come with me." he pulled you into his bathroom.

"Felix we can't-"

"We're leaving anyways." he said, closing the door before pinning you against it. His hands held your wrists gently but firmly as he pressed his body against yours, nudging your legs apart with his knee.

"Felix." you let out a little gasp when his thigh pressed against your warmth.

He couldn't wait anymore, one hand still pinning your wrists and the other gently holding your chin as he crashed his lips into yours. Both of you whimpered quietly into each other's mouth as your tongues collided. Your mind became fuzzy instantly and Felix was becoming impatient, his hand wrapping around your neck and squeezing ever so slightly as his other hand slid down towards your chest.

"It's hard to keep my cool around you. I just want you so much." Felix talked lowly, both of his hands grabbing your breasts and massaging them. You whimpered, grinding against his thigh on instict.

"I want you too, Lixie. I can't wait anymore."

"Yeah? You want me to take you right here, against the door?" he smirked and you gasped as he leaned back with a smirk, pushing your panties aside and touching your clit.

"Y-yes." you whispered and he chuckled, hands on your waist as he swiftly turned you around to face the door. Your palms slapped against it and you dug your nails in as he slid fingers over your wet pussy.

"I think she's ready to take me." he leaned over you, lips brushing your ear as he pulled his boxers down. You swallowed when you felt the tip of his cock pressing against you. Warmness washed over you and you clenched in anticipation.

"Tell me if it's okay. Or do you want me to prep you?" he asked, his hand sliding down your back.

"J-just fuck me, Felix." you begged and he chuckled darkly.

"My baby has a dirty mouth, hm?" he slid his tip between your folds, back and forth, slowly, teasing you and torturing you.

"Please." you whimpered again and his own desperation got the best of him, he couldn't tease you and himself anymore so he slowly pushed in.

You moaned while he filled you up, your eyes fluttering shut as your knees buckled.

"Fuck. So tight." he groaned, bottoming out.

"L-Lix." you whimpered and he gripped your hips, moving slowly at first, letting you adjust.

You pushed back into him, meeting his thrusts as you let out moans of pleasure, your voice getting more high pitched every time his tip pressed into your sweet spot.

"You take me so well, baby. You really were made just for me." Felix moaned, fucking harder into you, his hips smacking against you.

You were a mess, not even able to answer as he got you drunk on his cock instantly.

"Fuck." Felix groaned as he looked at your ass, his hand coming down on your flesh, spanking you and making you whine out loud.

"You like that, sweetheart?" he smirked behind you and spanked you again.

"Y-yes!" you moaned and he sped up, his hips unforgiving as he shook your body, his hands gropping and slapping. He felt you clenching around him, his arms wrapping around you, hands on your breasts as he pulled on your nipples and played with them.

"Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Make a mess on my cock?" Felix fucked into you harder.

"Yes, ah!" you whimpered, your legs shaking as you spasmed and came all over his length.

"Good girl. You make me so proud." he groaned, chasing his high.

"Y-you have to pull out, I didn't take the pill... Since I got here." you moaned, feeling overstimulated.

"S-shit!" Felix whimpered, pulling out of your pussy and giving himself a few tugs, exploding behind you, his cum landing on your ass and back.

"So pretty." he gripped at your ass. "Mine."

"Yours." you whined back when he spanked you again.

He let out a low chuckle and wrapped his arms around you, turning you so you were facing him.

"That was absolutely not how I imagined our first time." Felix said, pecking your lips.

"How did you imagine it?" you held onto him with a smile on your face.

"Dinner, flowers, you know the whole thing. You put on some pretty lingerie for me and then we make love the entire night." he pressed his forehead against yours.

"Aren't you romantic?" you giggled, kissing him gently.

"I am. A lot." he grinned, pulling you into a hug.

"We can do all that when we get out of here. Which is what we should be doing right now."

"Yeah. You got your bag ready?" he asked and you nodded.

"Let's clean up then."

~

The streets were dark and empty, the only light that was coming from the lamp posts was dim and barely illuminated your path. It must've been around 3am. Dead silence filled up the space, every house was dark and quiet. No one was awake. The two of you stalked towards the gate, knowing the cameras are watching you.

There was no blind spots, they thought of everything. You didn't give a damn anymore. They can come and stop you themselves instead of playing these sick games.

Of course, the gate was locked.

"Felix?" you swallowed and his head snapped towards you. "That wasn't there when we got here, right?" you pointed and he gasped.

Electric fence.

Everywhere you turned to look, there it was.

"What the hell?" Felix frowned. "Are they crazy?"

"Obviously they are." you stated. "What should we do now?"

"How about the forest? Could be connected to like a main road? There's no way they put this electric fence all around." Felix looked frustrated.

"We could try." you nodded, your hand reaching out for his. With fingers entwined you hurried the other way.

Suddenly, a loud alarm pierced through the calm night air, making you both scream out as you grabbed at your ears, the sound pounding inside your head, making you want to pull your hair out.

Your vision became blurry and you tried to stay close to Felix as the sound became even louder and in the corner of your eye, you saw shadows moving.

Everything went black.

~

You woke up in your room, drenched in sweat. It was still dark out and you looked around, noticing Felix was still sleeping and the device on his night stand was blinking.

"Lix." you shook him gently.

"Hm."

"Lix." you repeated, leaning over him to look at the little screen.

"98?" you frowned. "Why?"

"What?" Felix sat up slowly. "What is it?"

"We're up to 98. Because we tried to escape?"

"I- I don't know. Ugh, I feel weird." Felix said and as soon as those words left his lips, you felt lightheaded yourself.

"I can't feel my legs." he gasped.

"What's happening to us? What did they do?" your eyes watered as you felt the same paralyzing feeling.

"T-they drugged us." Felix tried to grab at you but his arms weren't listening to him no matter how much he willed them to move.

"Felix." you whimpered, feeling some kind of tiredness washing over you. "I love you."

"I love you." he whispered back before everything went black again, neither of you noticing the device was now blinking with 99.

The light was barely coming in through the branches, the sun not being completely up yet. The air was damp and smelled of the earth, rain and trees. You took in a deep breath, wiggling your fingers against the ground, feeling the texture of moss under your fingertips.

You felt as if you were floating even though you were very clearly touching the ground. Your eyes slowly fluttered open and you gasped. Everything seemed distorted, like you couldn't focus your eyes on what's in front of you. Weird sounds filled up your ears, ones you couldn't recognize or understand. One moment they seemed like distant shouts and the other it was as if someone was talking gibberish right into your ear.

You lifted your shaky hands towards your face as you felt hot tears sliding down your cheek and into your hair splayed on the earth. Your hands. You were looking at them but it was as if they were separated from your body, like you weren't in control of them. You stared for however long, not being able to conceptualize if it was 10 seconds or an hour.

When you finally sat up, your head started spinning and you saw shadows moving in the corner of your eye, hiding behind the trees and melting into the ground. You blinked a couple of times but your sight remained blurry even when you got up. Your legs buckled for a second and you almost fell, grabbing at a tree next to you.

Find him. Find him.

Something whispered and you felt a buzzing sensation spreading all over your body. You grabbed at your ears as the whispers kept getting louder until-

FIND HIM!

A yell, a dark screeching voice echoed inside your brain.

Felix. You have to find him.

You had no idea how you even ended up in the forest and what was wrong with you while you were walking, your limbs felt like they were disconnected, your head pounded with a headache and your forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

You heard a smacking sound on your right, like something hit the wet ground and you turned to look but couldn't see anything there.

"Felix?!" your voice came out weak, your throat burning. "Felix!" you whimpered, more tears spilling out your eyes.

The whispers and the smacking sounds became louder, closer, more of them surrounding you. You started freaking out, panic building up within you. The sound of cracking caught your attention and you screamed out when the trees started growing in towards you, their branches becoming longer and reaching out to grab you. You kept screaming as you squatted down, covering your head up and crying.

"Please, stop!" you cried. It was silent. You lifted your head up slowly and the trees were exactly how they were before. No menacing branches hovering over you, reaching to take you.

You quickly stood up, your sight a little less blurry as adrenaline from the fear kicked in. Your legs reacted faster than you could anticipate as you started running, small twigs snapping under the weight of your feet.

The smacking sounds were back and now you could see what they were. All around you, koi fishes wiggled and smacked against the floor, trying to breathe in the dry air. You gasped, wondering how the hell was this happening.

You must be tripping.

The rational part of your mind reminded you that whoever was behind Cupid Corp. didn't hesitate to use all sorts of methods to execute their 'tests'.

They probably drugged you and everything you were seeing right now was a hallucination.

With that realization in mind, you carried on through the forest as it got thicker, ignoring all the voices around you and the fishes seemingly falling from the sky.

Things lurked in the bushes and behind trees, shivers running up your spine as it got darker. You thought you heard Felix calling for you among all those distorted voices.

"Felix?!"

"Y/n!" you heard a distant sound.

"Felix? Where are you?" you hurried up, almost slipping on the moss.

"I'm here!" the voice was clearer now, to your left and you ran and ran until you were stopped in your tracks. A huge koi wish wriggled on the ground where Felix should've been.

"Felix?" you were perplexed as you stared at the sight before you.

"Get me out of here."

Is he... inside the fish?

You noticed a knife on the floor next to it. You blinked and the next thing you knew you were standing in front of the fish with the knife in your hand. You stabbed into the flesh, blood oozing out as you started cutting up the fish like a maniac, guts spilling from the inside until Felix emerged, covered up in all of the fish goo, the stench of it making you nauseous.

"What the fuck?" you swallowed and then everything disappeared, pulling you into the darkness again.

~

The loud piercing sound of the device you prayed to every single day shook your entire body. You jolted up, realizing you were in bed and Felix was waking up next to you.

No fishes, no guts, no forest, no whispers.

100%! Congratulations and have a safe departure from our Village of Love!

"Village of love? More like village of horror." you said as Felix leaned in to look at the screen. A loud sound scared you again, a masked voice following after it.

"Thank you for participating in our program. You've proved your love to each other, built up devotion and trust in just a month. You are now the perfect match. We apologize for any discomfort you felt here and offer you The Juice of Oblivion so you may forget about the... less fun experiences you had here. You can choose not to drink the juice, but remember after you leave through the gate, you're obligated by law to not talk about our tests here. Enjoy the rest of your life together!"

You glanced at the night stand, seeing the suspicious blue liquid inside a bottle.

Felix suddenly started laughing next to you and you looked at him. Laughter bubbled up from your throat too and the two of you cackled for a good minute, until you were heaving for breath and wiping tears away.

"This was fucking insane." he said.

"Were you really stuck inside a fish?" you asked and Felix looked at you like you were insane.

"Was I what?"

"I had to gut a koi fish to get you out, in the forest." you explained and he shook his head.

"You were tripping. We both were, I figured that the moment I stepped foot on the pool. Like on the water. And you were under it, trying to get out but it was as if there was some kind of barrier keeping me from you. I had to find a spot to pull you out. The amount of anguish it gave me..." Felix licked at his dry lips and you reached out to grab his hand.

"Do you wanna drink the juice?" you asked.

"I just wanna get the hell out of here." he said and you agreed.

You were pretty sure this was illegal, all of the stuff happening here; them not disclosing the use of psychedelic stimulants or whatever the drugs were in the contract was also illegal.

But at the same time, if you never participated, maybe you would've never met Felix.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked as you approached the gate with a few other couples, including Gina and Ethan.

"How I'm glad I met you. But I'm gonna need therapy." you said and Felix laughed.

"We'll go together. This is just the first day of the rest of our life." he smiled, kissing your forehead and squeezing your hand.

The man in the chair watched all the couples leave. His lips turned upwards into a smirk as he saw new cars approaching the village.

He wondered what kind of sick tests they had in store for the new inhabitants of the Village of Love?

You don’t remember when your eyes opened—only that something felt… off.

The bed was still warm, sheets tangled around your legs, but the space beside you was empty.

“Chan…?” Your voice comes out soft, barely there, like it might break if you try harder.

No answer.

You sit up slowly, blinking against the dark, your body still heavy with sleep. For a second, you consider just waiting—he’ll come back, he always does—but the quiet stretches too long, too unfamiliar.

So you slip out of bed.

The floor is cold under your feet, and you don’t bother fixing your appearance—just a loose tank top and panties, hair messy, eyes half-lidded. You don’t even think about it. You just… miss him.

The faint light from his office pulls you down the hallway.

You push the door open gently.

Chan’s there, exactly where you expected—curled slightly forward in his chair, headphones pushed halfway off, one hand resting against his temple as the other hovers over the keyboard. The screen casts a pale glow over his face, highlighting the exhaustion he tries to hide.

He doesn’t notice you at first.

You lean against the doorframe, watching him for a moment, the soft clack of keys filling the room.

“…Chan.”

That does it.

He turns instantly, like your voice is something he’s wired to respond to, and the moment his eyes land on you, something in his expression shifts—softens, melts, completely undone.

You don’t even realize how you look.

But he does.

And to him, it’s everything.

“Hey… baby,” he murmurs, pulling off his headphones, voice low and warm despite the fatigue. “Why’re you up?”

You rub your eyes, stepping closer, your voice small and sleepy. “Woke up… you weren’t there.”

He exhales softly, guilt flickering across his face. “Couldn’t sleep again. Didn’t wanna wake you.”

You stop in front of him, swaying just slightly, and he instinctively reaches out—hands settling on your hips to steady you.

“Come back to bed,” you mumble, barely coherent, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Please.”

There’s a pause.

Not because he’s unsure.

Because he’s completely, utterly gone for you in that moment.

You—half-asleep, careless, soft in every possible way—asking for him like he’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Yeah,” he breathes, almost like he forgot how to speak for a second. “Yeah, okay. I’m coming.”

He doesn’t even save his work.

Just slips his hand into yours, guiding you gently back down the hallway.

You don’t let go.

Not even when you crawl back under the covers, tugging him with you, wrapping yourself around him like it’s instinct.

He settles behind you, arms circling your waist, pulling you close—closer than before.

You sigh, already drifting again.

And for the first time that night…

Chan feels like he might actually sleep.

Because you’re here.

Because you asked for him.

And because nothing—not the music, not the silence, not even his restless mind—matters more than this.

⸻

The JYP CEO, along with two marketing directors, your solo team representative, and Stray Kids' manager, silently flipped through documents.

"Let's get straight to the point," the CEO began, his voice firm and leaving no room for emotion. "(Your Name)'s situation is critical. The leaked audio, the private messages... her image has plummeted. Sponsors are reconsidering contracts, social media is divided, and the hate is affecting the sales of the latest single. We need a strong, immediate, and effective action."

One of the marketing directors cleared his throat and projected a graph on the screen filled with red numbers.

"The numbers don't lie. Minus 47% positive mentions in the last three weeks. The dominant narrative is that (Your Name) is arrogant, mistreats staff, and is ungrateful for her success. The public apology helped a little, but not enough. The public wants to see real change."

You swallowed hard, feeling everyone's eyes on you. Your hands trembled slightly. You wanted to speak, to explain that you were exhausted that day, that the stylist had delayed everything, and that your tone was the result of months of accumulated pressure. But you knew any defense now would sound like an excuse. So you stayed quiet, biting the inside of your cheek.

The CEO continued:

"The solution we've found is a contractual relationship. Six months. Long enough to create a new narrative: an idol who made a mistake but is maturing, in a healthy relationship, and showing another side. And the ideal partner for this is Hyunjin."

Hyunjin, who had kept his gaze down until then, suddenly lifted his head. For the first time since entering the room, he showed a clear reaction.

"Me?" he asked, voice low but full of disbelief.

"Yes," the director confirmed. "You two are close in age, and your artistic concepts complement each other. The ship already exists lightly among some fans because of the dance comparisons. Also, Hyunjin's spotless image will help soften the perception of (Your Name). It's a win-win strategy."

Hyunjin let out a dry, humorless laugh.

"Win-win?" he repeated. "Did you all watch the same audio as the rest of the country? The way she spoke to the stylist... that wasn't just a simple outburst. It sounded like pure arrogance. And the messages? Complaining about being tired of everything, as if the rest of us don't work just as hard. Now you want me to pretend to be her boyfriend?"

His words landed like stones in the silent room. You felt your chest tighten. You lowered your gaze to your hands, blinking quickly to hold back the burning in your eyes. You knew he thought that. Most people did. But hearing it directly hurt differently.

"Hyunjin," his manager interrupted cautiously, "we understand your hesitation. But this benefits Stray Kids too. The group is in an international expansion phase. An indirectly associated scandal could harm schedules. Six months. After that, you end it amicably and each goes your own way."

You finally found the courage to speak, your voice lower than you wanted:

"I... I don't want to force anyone. If Hyunjin isn't comfortable, we can think of another solution."

All eyes turned to you. Hyunjin looked at you for the first time. His gaze was cold, analyzing. As if trying to figure out if you were sincere or just acting for the room.

One director shook his head.

"There is no other viable short-term solution. You two will sign the contract today. Clear rules: shared housing in an apartment prepared by the company, controlled public appearances, posts on social media, joint lives, dates that will be 'leaked' strategically. No unnecessary physical contact when there are no cameras, but enough closeness to make it look real. At the end of six months, an amicable breakup with a joint statement."

Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, visibly irritated. He leaned forward, elbows on the table.

"And if I refuse?"

The CEO smiled, but it wasn't kind.

"It's not a recommended option, Hyunjin. We all have common goals here. Protecting careers."

The silence that followed was suffocating. You felt the weight of every gaze. The shame burned in your chest. You remembered the leaked audio, the messages taken out of context, the lives you watched while crying as people called you every name possible. And now this. Being forced to fake a relationship with someone who clearly despised you.

Hyunjin glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He saw your tense shoulders, the way you bit your lower lip. For a second, he almost felt pity. Almost. But the sound of your voice in the audio - cold and demanding - came back to his mind.

The meeting continued with the details, but your mind drifted to that fateful day.

---

Flashback

The practice room was chaotic. Sweat dripped down your back as you tried to run the choreography for the hundredth time. The important festival performance was only days away, and everything was going wrong. The stylist had brought the wrong outfits - again. The wrong colors, wrong sizes, completely off concept. The schedule was delayed by nearly two hours.

Your patience, already worn thin from weeks of back-to-back schedules and almost no sleep, finally snapped.

You turned to her, voice sharp and exhausted.

"Oh my god, girl, don't you know how to do your fucking job? We're already behind!"

The stylist looked at you with wide eyes. You continued, unable to stop:

"I try so hard not to be rude to you, but every single day it feels like you work with zero effort! Stop looking at me with that face and just do your job properly. I'm the one who's going to get all the hate if this goes wrong on stage, not you!"

It wasn't screaming. It wasn't a full meltdown. But the cold, tired, cutting tone was enough. The entire team went silent. The stylist's face flushed with embarrassment and anger.

---

Back in the present, you snapped out of the memory when papers were placed in front of you.

The documents were thick - full of clauses, million-dollar fines for breaking the contract, detailed rules about what you could and couldn't do. You both signed in heavy silence. As the pen moved across the paper, you felt like you were signing away a part of yourself.

After the meeting, the managers explained the next steps: moving into the apartment that same week, first "official date" on the weekend, initial subtle posts. As everyone started leaving the room, Hyunjin stood up quickly but stopped beside your chair for a second.

"Just to be clear," he murmured low enough for only you to hear, "I saw the audio. I saw the messages. I don't think you're a good person. We'll do the job, but don't expect me to like you."

You lifted your gaze, meeting his. There was hurt there, yes. But also wounded pride and exhaustion.

"I didn't ask you to like me," you replied, voice shaky but firm. "Let's just... survive these six months."

Hyunjin held your gaze for one more moment, then left the room without another word.

You remained seated for a few more seconds, alone in the now-empty room. Your chest ached. Your hands were still trembling. Six months pretending to love someone who saw you as an arrogant diva. Six months living with him. Six months smiling for cameras while everything inside you was falling apart.

You took a deep breath, wiped away a single escaped tear, and stood up.

The contract had begun.

And nothing would ever be the same again.

────୨ৎ────

The apartment was beautiful. Too beautiful. Located in a high-security building in Gangnam, it had floor-to-ceiling windows, modern minimalist furniture, a huge living room, and a kitchen that looked like it had never been used. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a small terrace with a view of the city lights. The company had prepared everything - even stocked the fridge with healthy meals and placed fresh flowers on the dining table like this was some romantic movie.

But the atmosphere inside felt like a frozen battlefield.

You arrived first with your two suitcases and a manager. The staff helped bring your things inside, then quickly left, saying "Good luck" with an awkward smile. You stood in the middle of the living room, arms wrapped around yourself, feeling completely out of place.

Ten minutes later, the door opened again.

Hyunjin walked in dragging a large suitcase behind him, a black hoodie pulled over his head, earphones in. He didn't even glance at you. He simply scanned the apartment with a neutral expression, then headed straight toward the hallway.

You stayed quiet, not wanting to make things worse. The silence was already loud enough.

After a few minutes, he came back to the living room. You were still standing in the same spot, unsure what to do. He stopped a few meters away, hands in his pockets.

"So... this is it," he said flatly.

"Yeah," you replied softly. "This is it."

Another heavy pause. Neither of you knew how to act. You were two strangers who had been forced into the same cage for the next six months. The air felt thick, uncomfortable.

Hyunjin sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Look... we should set some rules. So this doesn't become hell."

You nodded quickly, relieved he brought it up first.

"Okay. Rules sound good."

He leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

"First, bedrooms. You take the one on the left, I'll take the one on the right. We don't enter each other's rooms. Ever."

"Fine," you agreed immediately.

"Second, schedules. We both have crazy timetables. I'll send you my schedule every Sunday night so we can avoid... unnecessary overlapping in the common areas. If one of us is home, the other tries to stay in their room."

You bit your lip but nodded again.

"Third," he continued, voice cold but clear, "don't talk to me unless it's necessary. No small talk. No asking how my day was. We're not friends. This is work. Outside of cameras and public appearances, we're basically roommates who don't exist to each other."

The words stung, but you didn't show it. You expected this.

"Understood," you said quietly. "I won't bother you."

Hyunjin stared at you for a moment, as if trying to read whether you were being sarcastic. When he saw you were serious, he just gave a small nod.

"Good."

And with that, he grabbed his suitcase and disappeared into the right bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You let out a long breath you didn't know you were holding and dragged your own bags to the left bedroom. The room was nice - soft lighting, big bed, private bathroom - but it felt cold. You sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall.

Six months.

This was going to be harder than you thought.

-----

The first night was painfully awkward.

You stayed in your room most of the time, only leaving once to get water from the kitchen. When you heard Hyunjin's door open, you quickly retreated back to yours like a scared mouse. He did the same. You could hear faint music coming from his room. You kept yours completely silent.

The next morning was even worse.

You woke up early and made yourself a simple breakfast - toast and coffee. While you were eating at the counter, Hyunjin walked out of his room, already dressed for practice. He stopped for half a second when he saw you, then walked straight to the fridge without a word. The silence was suffocating.

You finished eating quickly, washed your plate, and went back to your room. Before closing the door, you muttered a quiet "Have a good practice," but he didn't respond.

It felt like living with a ghost who hated you.

-----

Later that afternoon, while you were lying on your bed scrolling through your phone, your notifications started exploding.

You had followed Hyunjin on Instagram an hour earlier - as instructed by the company. It was supposed to be the first small "hint" for fans. What you didn't expect was for him to follow you back just ten minutes later.

The fandoms lost their minds instantly.

@stay4lifee:WAIT HYUNJIN FOLLOWED HER BACK??? He only follows the members!!!

@luminas_unite:Okay but why did she follow him first and he followed back so fast??? This is suspicious af

@skzupdat3s:New couple alert??? Or is this damage control after her scandal???

@hyyunjinnieverse:My boy would NEVER follow someone randomly... what is happening 😭

The comments were a mix of confusion, excitement, and suspicion. Some STAYs were happy, others were skeptical because of your recent controversy. Your own fans were split between protective and hopeful.

You stared at the screen, heart racing. This was really happening. The fake narrative had officially begun.

A message from your manager popped up:

Manager:Good job. The company is happy with the first move. Keep it natural.

You tossed your phone aside and buried your face in the pillow.

In the other room, Hyunjin was also on his phone, frowning at the rising comments. He had followed you back because the company told him to, but seeing the reaction made his stomach twist. He threw his phone on the bed and muttered to himself:

"This is going to be a long six months..."

---

That evening, the company sent new instructions: you two needed to post something subtle on your stories soon. Nothing too obvious yet - maybe a photo of coffee cups or the city view from the same apartment.

You were the first to do it. You took a picture of the sunset from the living room window (making sure Hyunjin wasn't in frame) and posted it with a simple heart emoji.

Hyunjin saw the notification. He rolled his eyes but knew he had to play along. Twenty minutes later, he posted a similar shot from the terrace - same sunset, same angle.

The internet exploded again.

"THEY'RE IN THE SAME PLACE"

"This can't be a coincidence"

"Hyunjin never posts sunset pics... this is shady"

You were sitting on the couch when his bedroom door opened. Hyunjin walked out, saw you there, and stopped. For a second, it looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he just grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and headed back to his room.

Before he closed the door, he paused.

"You posted the sunset," he said without turning around.

"Yeah... they told me to."

He nodded once.

"Don't make it too obvious next time."

Then the door clicked shut again.

You hugged your knees to your chest, the heavy silence returning. Two strangers forced to share the same luxury prison. No talking unless necessary. No real contact.

And six months had only just begun.

Outside, the rumors were already spreading like wildfire.

And deep down, both of you knew this was only the beginning of something much more complicated.

────୨ৎ────

The message from the company came at 2 PM sharp.

"First public date scheduled for tonight. 8:00 PM at La Lumière. Private table near the window. Dress nicely but not too formal. Act natural. Photos will leak naturally - we have people on it. This is the first big step. Make it convincing."

You stared at the text for a long time, stomach twisting into knots. Just four days into this fake arrangement and they were already pushing you both into the spotlight. You knew it was coming, but the speed still made your head spin.

Hyunjin received the same instructions. When you passed each other in the hallway of the apartment earlier that afternoon, he didn't say a word about it. He simply glanced at you once, expression unreadable, and continued to his room. The silence between you two had become almost normal now - heavy, awkward, and filled with everything neither of you wanted to say.

You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready in your room. You chose a soft beige dress that fell elegantly just above the knees, paired with light makeup and loose waves in your hair. You wanted to look put-together, but not like you were trying too hard. The last thing you needed was more comments calling you calculated or fake.

At 7:40 PM, the company van arrived. Hyunjin was already waiting inside, dressed in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, silver earrings catching the light, and black trousers. He looked effortlessly handsome, as always. You slid into the seat across from him. He didn't greet you. He simply nodded once and looked out the window.

The ride to the restaurant was dead silent. The only sounds were the low hum of the engine and the occasional vibration of phones. You wanted to say something - anything - to ease the tension, but remembered his rule: Don't talk to me unless necessary.So you stayed quiet, staring at your hands.

When the van stopped in front of La Lumière, a famous fine-dining restaurant known for its romantic ambiance and discreet VIP area, your heart started racing. The hostess greeted you both with a polite smile and led you to a beautifully prepared table near the large window. Soft golden lighting, fresh white roses in a vase, and two glasses of wine already poured.

You sat down. Hyunjin pulled out your chair first - a gentlemanly move that felt completely mechanical. Once seated, the real discomfort began.

For nearly twenty minutes, the conversation was painfully stiff.

"How was your day?" you asked quietly, trying to fill the silence.

"Busy," he replied, eyes fixed on the menu. "Practice ran late."

You nodded. "Mine too. We had vocal lessons until six."

Silence again.

You tried once more. "This place is beautiful. The company really went all out."

Hyunjin hummed in response, not even looking up. "Yeah."

The awkwardness was suffocating. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on both of you. To any outsider, it would be obvious something was wrong. You two looked more like business partners forced to share a meal than a budding couple. Hyunjin's jaw was tight. You kept fidgeting with the edge of your napkin. The distance between you across the table felt like an ocean.

That's when you noticed it.

A man sitting two tables away kept glancing in your direction, phone held a little too casually. Outside the window, someone pretended to take photos of the street but clearly angled the camera toward you. The company had done their job - the eyes were already here.

Hyunjin noticed at the exact same moment. His eyes met yours, sharp and alert. A silent message passed between you: They're watching.

In an instant, the entire dynamic shifted.

Hyunjin's posture changed completely. The cold, distant man disappeared. He leaned forward, a soft, charming smile forming on his lips - the same one millions of fans adored. He reached across the table and gently took your hand, thumb stroking the back of it with surprising tenderness.

"You look really beautiful tonight," he said, voice warm and low, perfectly pitched for the setting. "That dress suits you."

Your cheeks flushed instantly. Even though you knew it was fake, the delivery was flawless. You smiled shyly, playing along.

"Thank you... You look handsome too. I like the shirt."

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and convincing. Then he stood up, walked around the table, and sat in the chair right beside you instead of across. The distance closed. His arm draped casually over the back of your chair, fingers lightly brushing your bare shoulder. The contact sent a small shiver down your spine.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he murmured, leaning closer. "With everything going on... I worry about you working too hard."

You turned your head slightly, meeting his eyes. They were incredibly close now. You could smell his cologne - woody and clean.

"I'm okay," you whispered back, voice softer. "Having you here makes it easier."

The words tasted strange, but you sold them well. Hyunjin's gaze dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second before he leaned in and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your cheek. His lips were warm. The touch lingered just long enough to look intimate, but not scandalous. You felt your heart skip.

He stayed close after that, whispering small compliments and laughing at things you said like they were the funniest jokes in the world. You shared a plate of pasta, feeding each other small bites for the cameras. His hand never left yours. Every movement was calculated but looked completely natural.

For the next hour, you two put on the performance of a lifetime.

By the time you left the restaurant, hand in hand, the plan had worked perfectly. Phones had been discreetly snapping photos the entire time. The "leak" was already spreading like wildfire across social media even before you reached the van.

---

Back at the apartment, the act dropped the second the door closed.

Hyunjin immediately released your hand like it burned him. He kicked off his shoes and headed straight for the kitchen without a word, grabbing a bottle of water. You stood in the entrance, still feeling the ghost of his kiss on your cheek and the warmth of his hand on your waist.

The silence returned, heavier than before.

You finally spoke, voice quiet.

"...Thank you for tonight. You were really convincing."

Hyunjin paused, back still turned to you. He took a long sip of water before answering.

"It's my job now, isn't it?" His tone was cold again, the warmth from the restaurant completely gone. "Don't get used to it."

You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "I won't."

He started walking toward his bedroom, but stopped in the hallway for a second.

"The photos will be everywhere by morning," he said without turning around. "Get ready for it."

Then his door clicked shut.

You stood there alone for a long time, fingers lightly touching the spot on your cheek where his lips had been. Your heart was still racing. The worst part wasn't the fake smiles or the forced touches.

It was how dangerously real some of those moments had felt.

And how terrified you were that, over the next six months, the line between acting and reality might start to blur.

Outside, the internet was already exploding with the new photos. The narrative was shifting.

But inside the apartment, the cold silence remained.

----------

The storm hit the very next morning.

Your phone started vibrating nonstop at 6:47 AM. Notifications flooded in - Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, news alerts, group chats with your team. You groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow for a few seconds before finally grabbing the device.

The photos were everywhere.

Blurred but intimate shots from the restaurant: Hyunjin kissing your cheek, his hand gently holding yours across the table, the two of you sitting side by side with soft smiles, sharing food, looking at each other like the rest of the world didn't exist. The headlines were dramatic but effective:

"HYUNJIN AND [YOUR NAME] SPOTTED ON INTIMATE DATE AMID RECENT SCANDAL"

"From Controversy to Romance? Stray Kids' Hyunjin Seen Getting Close with Solo Idol"

"New Power Couple? Fans React to Viral Photos"

You sat up in bed, scrolling through the comments with wide eyes. The reactions were mixed, but the shift was undeniable.

@st4y4ever:Wait... they look kinda cute together? Hyunjin looks happy

@luminas_shine:Finally some good news after all that hate. She deserves this

@kpoptea_daily:This is so obviously PR but I'm still eating it up

@hyunjinbiaseed:My boy would never date someone who mistreats staff... these photos feel staged

@yournameupdates: Her smile looks genuine. Maybe she's not as bad as the audio made her seem?

For the first time since the audio leak and the private messages went viral, the comments weren't purely hateful. Some were still suspicious, calling it a desperate marketing move by the company. Others were already shipping you two hard. The hate hadn't disappeared, but it was quieter. The narrative was slowly, carefully, beginning to change.

A message from your manager popped up:

Manager:Great job last night. The company is very satisfied with the early results. Trending topics are positive. Keep it up.

You locked your phone and sighed, running a hand through your messy hair. Part of you felt relieved. The other part felt sick. None of it was real.

You got out of bed and quietly made your way to the kitchen, hoping Hyunjin was still asleep. No such luck.

He was already there, leaning against the counter drinking coffee, phone in hand. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and sweatpants, hair still slightly damp from a shower. He looked up when you entered but didn't say anything.

You moved around him carefully, grabbing a glass for water.

"Did you see?" you asked softly.

"Yeah," he replied, voice flat. "It's working. For now."

You nodded, unsure what else to say. The silence stretched again, heavy and familiar. You wanted to talk about how strange it felt seeing those photos, how convincing he had been last night, how his kiss on your cheek kept replaying in your head. But you remembered his rules. Don't talk unless necessary.

So you stayed quiet.

Hyunjin finished his coffee and placed the mug in the sink.

"The company wants more appearances soon," he said without looking at you. "Lives. Maybe another date. Don't get too comfortable with any of this."

"I won't," you answered quickly.

He paused for a second, like he wanted to say more, but then simply walked back to his room and closed the door.

You stood alone in the kitchen, gripping the edge of the counter. The warmth from last night's fake affection was still lingering in your chest, and it scared you.

---

Throughout the day, the buzz only grew stronger.

Your Instagram followers increased by thousands. Fan edits of the two of you started appearing - slow-motion clips of the kiss on the cheek, side-by-side photos comparing your aesthetics. Some STAYs were still wary because of the scandal, but many were warming up. Your own fandom was split between protective anger at the company and hopeful excitement that you might be happy.

But inside the luxurious apartment, nothing had changed.

You spent most of the day in your room, working on new music and answering emails. Hyunjin stayed in his. You only saw him once in the afternoon when he came out to make a protein shake. He moved around the kitchen like you weren't even there.

At one point, you worked up the courage to speak.

"Hyunjin... do you want to rehearse what we might say if we have to do a live together soon?"

He looked at you with a cold expression.

"No need. I'll act when I have to. You do the same."

The words stung more than you expected. You nodded and retreated back to your room, closing the door softly.

Alone, you lay on your bed staring at the ceiling. Your mind kept drifting back to the restaurant. The way he had leaned in so naturally. The warmth of his hand. The soft press of his lips on your cheek. The low tone of his voice when he called you beautiful.

They were all fake. You knew that. But your stupid heart didn't seem to get the message.

Stop it,you told yourself. This is exactly what you can't do.

---

Later that evening, the company sent new instructions: they wanted you two to do a casual Instagram story interaction within the next few days. Something simple - maybe commenting on each other's posts or posting a photo with a vague caption.

You were the one who posted first. A simple photo of a book and a cup of tea with the caption "Quiet nights healing ♡". It was innocent enough.

Hyunjin liked it within minutes.

Then, surprisingly, he posted a story of his own - a photo of the city view from the terrace with the caption "Peaceful evenings." The angle was suspiciously similar to yours.

The fandoms noticed immediately.

"They're definitely in the same place again"

"This is too coordinated"

"Hyunjin never does soft captions like this..."

You smiled faintly at the reactions, but the smile faded when you heard Hyunjin's door open. He walked into the living room, saw you on the couch with your phone, and stopped.

"You posted," he said.

"Yeah. They told me to."

He nodded once. "Good."

For a moment, he looked like he might sit down or say something else. Instead, he grabbed a water bottle and headed back toward his room.

"Hyunjin?" you called out before you could stop yourself.

He paused.

"Do you... hate doing this that much?" you asked quietly.

He turned slightly, eyes cold but honest.

"I don't hate you," he said. "I just don't trust you. There's a difference."

Then he disappeared into his room again.

You pulled your knees up to your chest on the couch, heart aching with confusing emotions. The company was happy. The public was slowly shifting. But you?

You were the only one starting to get lost in a story that wasn't even real.

And the scariest part was that you had no idea how to stop it.

────୨ৎ────

The company was pleased with the results so far.

The leaked date photos had done their job - the public conversation was slowly shifting from your scandal to the possibility of a new romance. Sponsors were reconsidering. Your streams were up. And the fans, although still divided, were buzzing with curiosity instead of pure hate.

So they decided to push the narrative further, but in a way that felt more "natural."

Hyunjin was instructed to do one of his casual solo lives from the apartment. Nothing too staged. Just him, the fans, and a normal evening. The perfect opportunity to show a soft, boyfriend-like side without forcing anything obvious.

You were in your room when he set up.

Hyunjin placed his phone on a small tripod in the living room, adjusted the lighting, and sat on the large sofa. He was wearing a loose gray hoodie and black shorts, hair slightly messy in that effortlessly attractive way. He started the live at 9:15 PM.

"Hey everyone," he greeted with his usual charming smile, waving at the camera. "It's been a while since I did a random live like this. How are you guys tonight?"

The comments flooded in immediately. Hearts, greetings, and questions poured across the screen. Hyunjin read some aloud, laughing softly at the funny ones, answering others with care. He talked about recent practices, a new painting he was working on, and how tired but happy he felt.

Everything was going smoothly.

Until it wasn't.

You had gotten thirsty after hours locked in your room working on lyrics. You didn't think he was doing a live - you assumed he was just on his phone. So you walked out of your bedroom in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, hair up in a messy bun, heading toward the kitchen.

For a brief second, you appeared in the background of the frame - just a quick blur of movement. You opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and closed it again.

Then you spoke, voice soft and low, not realizing the live was on.

"Hyunjin, did you eat dinner already? There's still some chicken in the fridge if you want..."

The words were quiet, but the microphone caught them.

The comments exploded instantly.

"WAIT WHO WAS THAT?!"

"DID SOMEONE JUST WALK BY???"

"WAS THAT HER VOICE?!?!"

"HYUNJIN IS NOT ALONE IN THE APARTMENT OMG"

Hyunjin froze for a split second. His eyes widened slightly before he quickly regained control, but the brief slip was enough. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Ah... ignore that," he said, trying to play it off. "Just the TV. You guys know I leave it on sometimes."

But it was too late. The fans had already seen. And worse - they had heard.

A few seconds later, when a comment asked "Who's there with you?", Hyunjin leaned forward slightly, still smiling, but his ears were turning red.

He answered without thinking, tone softer than usual:

"Don't worry about it, angel. Everything's fine."

The word slipped out so naturally - angel - in that gentle, low voice he rarely used with you in private. It wasn't loud enough for everyone to catch clearly, but sharp-eyed fans paused the live, zoomed in, and read his lips.

The chat went absolutely feral.

"HE SAID ANGEL I'M SCREAMING"

"SINCE WHEN DOES HYUNJIN CALL SOMEONE ANGEL???"

"THIS IS NOT PR ANYMORE, THIS IS REAL"

"He looked so soft oh my god"

Hyunjin realized his mistake almost immediately. He straightened up, cleared his throat, and tried to change the subject.

"Anyway, someone asked about the new comeback choreography..." he continued, forcing his usual bright tone. But the damage was done. His cheeks stayed slightly flushed for the rest of the live. He ended it ten minutes earlier than planned, saying he was tired.

The second the live ended, he dropped his head into his hands.

"Shit..."

---

You had gone back to your room right after grabbing water, completely unaware of what had just happened. You were sitting on your bed with headphones on when you heard a knock on your door.

Hyunjin stood there, looking frustrated.

"You walked by during the live," he said bluntly.

Your eyes widened. "What? I didn't know you were live! I'm sorry, I-"

"And you spoke," he added. "They heard your voice. And I..." He paused, jaw tight. "I slipped up."

You stared at him, heart beating faster.

"What did you say?"

He looked away, clearly annoyed with himself.

"Doesn't matter. It's already spreading."

The silence that followed was heavy. You wanted to apologize again, but something in his expression stopped you. He looked conflicted - angry at the situation, but maybe also at himself.

"I'll be more careful next time," you said quietly.

Hyunjin nodded once and turned to leave. Before he closed the door, he paused.

"...Don't overthink it. It was just acting."

But as he walked back to his room, you couldn't stop replaying his voice in your head. The soft tone. The word angel. The way his expression had changed for a split second.

You sat on your bed, hugging your knees.

For him, it was probably just a mistake. A slip caused by the pressure of the live.

For you... it was another crack in the wall you were desperately trying to keep up.

The company sent a message ten minutes later saying they were extremely happy with the "accidental" moment. The clips were going viral. The romance narrative was growing stronger by the hour.

You turned off your phone and lay down, staring at the ceiling.

This was all supposed to be fake.

────୨ৎ────

One month.

Thirty days since the contract began. Thirty days of shared silences, forced smiles, and carefully staged moments. What started as damage control had become one of the biggest topics in the K-pop industry.

The public no longer talked about the leaked audio or your “arrogant” messages. Instead, they talked about you and Hyunjin.

Photos of you two “accidentally” in the same café. Stories with suspiciously similar backgrounds. Lives where a second voice was faintly heard. Small puzzle pieces that fans collected obsessively. The company couldn’t have planned it better.

To keep the momentum going, they escalated.

Matching rings — discreet silver bands with a small engraved line on the inside — were delivered to the apartment. “Wear them naturally,” the message said. “Let the fans notice.” You slipped yours on every time you left the apartment. Hyunjin did the same, though he never commented on it.

The biggest step yet came on a quiet Thursday night.

A joint live.

For the first time, you would appear together officially on camera.

---

The setup was simple but intimate: the living room couch, soft lighting, a few snacks on the coffee table. You sat beside Hyunjin, closer than strangers but not quite as close as lovers. He wore a black hoodie. You chose a cream sweater. Both of you wore the matching rings.

Hyunjin started the live with his usual easy charm.

“Hey STAYs… and everyone else watching,” he said, waving at the camera. “We thought it was time to do a live together. A lot of things have been going around lately.”

You smiled shyly, waving as well. “Hi everyone. Thank you for joining us.”

The comments exploded immediately.

“THEY’RE TOGETHER!!”

“MATCHING RINGS I’M CRYING”

“FINALLY OMG”

At first, the atmosphere was careful. Almost scripted. You answered questions about favorite foods, how you first met properly, and what it was like working in the industry. Hyunjin was polite, charming, and distant in the way only he could be.

But as the live continued, something shifted.

A comment asked: “How do you take care of each other?”

Hyunjin glanced at you. For a second, his expression softened.

“She works really hard,” he said, voice gentler than usual. “Sometimes I have to remind her to eat.” He reached over and lightly adjusted a strand of hair that had fallen over your face — a small, natural gesture that made the chat lose its mind.

You felt your cheeks heat up. You laughed softly and replied, “He pretends he doesn’t care, but he always leaves water and snacks for me when I have late schedules.”

Your hand brushed against his on the couch. Neither of you pulled away.

The tension in the apartment — the cold distance you had both maintained for a month — seemed to melt under the lights of the camera. Small touches lingered. Eye contact lasted longer than necessary. When you laughed at something he said, Hyunjin watched you with an expression that didn’t feel completely fake.

One fan commented: “Hyunjin looks at her so softly…”

He read it aloud and, instead of denying it, just smiled and said, “She makes it easy.”

Your heart stumbled.

For you, the live was becoming dangerous.

Every soft look, every casual touch, every time his voice dropped when he spoke directly to you — it all felt too real. You kept remembering the restaurant date. The accidental “angel” during his solo live. The way he had started leaving small notes or snacks for you even when the cameras weren’t watching.

You were falling. Slowly. Quietly. And you hated yourself for it.

---

For Hyunjin, things were more complicated than he wanted to admit.

Over the past month, he had watched you more than he should. He saw how you thanked every staff member sincerely when no cameras were around. How you cried silently in your room after particularly harsh hate comments. How you pushed yourself harder than anyone else, even when exhausted.

He still didn’t fully trust you. The leaked audio still played in his head sometimes.

But the version of you he had built in his mind — the arrogant, cold diva — was cracking.

During the live, when a fan asked about your first impression of each other, Hyunjin hesitated for half a second too long.

“She surprised me,” he answered honestly. “In a good way.”

You looked at him, surprised. He met your eyes and, for a moment, the scripted answers disappeared. The look he gave you was real.

The live ended after ninety minutes with both of you waving goodbye, shoulders touching.

The second the camera turned off, Hyunjin leaned back on the couch and let out a long breath. You stayed seated, heart still racing.

“That went well,” you said quietly.

“Yeah.” He didn’t look at you.

The silence returned, but it felt different now. Heavier. Full of things unsaid.

Hyunjin stood up first.

“I’m going to my room,” he said. But before he left, he paused. “You did good tonight.”

It was the closest thing to a compliment he had ever given you.

You stayed on the couch long after he disappeared, staring at the black screen of the phone. The fans were already making clips — zooming in on every touch, every glance, every soft smile.

The world was believing the lie more and more.

And you?

You were starting to wish it wasn’t a lie at all.

────୨ৎ────

Two weeks after the joint live, the apartment no longer felt like a battlefield.

It still wasn’t warm. But the ice had started to crack.

Hyunjin’s changes were subtle — so subtle that at first you thought you were imagining them. He was still reserved, still kept his distance, but the sharp coldness from the beginning had softened into something quieter. Something more confusing.

It started with small things.

One night, you came back from a long rehearsal completely exhausted. You barely had the energy to take off your shoes before collapsing on the couch. Twenty minutes later, a plate of food appeared on the coffee table in front of you — warm rice, grilled chicken, and vegetables. No note. No explanation. When you looked toward his room, the door was already closed.

Another time, you were struggling to reach something on a high shelf in the kitchen. Hyunjin walked by, silently grabbed it for you, and handed it over without a word. His fingers brushed yours for a second longer than necessary.

He answered your questions more gently. When you asked about his schedule, instead of a short “Busy,” he would say, “It’s been heavy, but I’m managing. How about you?”

Nothing dramatic. Nothing that couldn’t be explained as “good acting for the cameras.”

But it was enough to keep you awake at night.

The company, thrilled with the growing buzz, decided to take the next big step.

A major awards show — one of the biggest of the season. You and Hyunjin were both attending, and this would be your first official public appearance as a couple. Red carpet, interviews, sitting together, photos. Everything under the spotlight.

The night of the event, the tension in the apartment was thick.

You wore a stunning black gown with delicate silver details that matched the ring on your finger. Hyunjin looked breathtaking in a tailored black suit, hair styled back, silver earrings shining. When you stepped out of your room, he paused for a moment, eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“You look… nice,” he said quietly.

Just “nice.” But the way he said it felt heavier.

The ride to the venue was quiet, but when you arrived and stepped onto the red carpet, the act began.

Hyunjin placed his hand on your lower back as you walked. The touch was firm, warm, and steady. Cameras flashed endlessly. Journalists shouted questions.

“Hyunjin! Are you two really dating?”

He smiled — that dazzling, charming smile — and pulled you closer to his side.

“We’re taking things one day at a time,” he answered smoothly. Then he looked at you, eyes softer than they should have been. “But I’m lucky to have her by my side.”

Your heart skipped.

During the interviews, he never let go of your hand. When a reporter asked about your recent scandal, Hyunjin stepped in naturally.

“She’s one of the hardest working people I know,” he said, voice sincere. “The way she pushes herself… it inspires me every day.”

The compliments didn’t sound like lines. They sounded real.

You squeezed his hand, playing your part, but inside you were spiraling. Every touch, every look, every soft word was making the line between fake and real blur dangerously.

---

Hyunjin’s POV

He didn’t know when it started.

Maybe it was during the late nights when he heard you crying quietly in your room after reading hate comments. Or when he saw you thanking the tired staff members with genuine warmth after long schedules. Or how you never complained, even when you were clearly exhausted.

The image he had built of you — arrogant, cold, someone who mistreated others — no longer fit perfectly.

He still didn’t trust you completely. The leaked audio still echoed in his mind sometimes. But now, when he looked at you, he saw someone carrying too much pressure, trying her best, and slowly breaking under it.

Tonight, on the red carpet, he told himself it was all acting. The hand on your back. The soft looks. The compliments. It was all for the cameras.

But when he said you inspired him, part of him meant it.

And that terrified him.

So he hid it. Behind the role. Behind the “contract.” Behind the excuse that this was all just work.

Back at the apartment after the awards, the masks came off.

You kicked off your heels with a sigh of relief. Hyunjin loosened his tie, watching you from across the room.

“You did well tonight,” he said.

There it was again — that softer tone.

You turned to him, unable to hold it in anymore.

“Hyunjin… why are you being like this?”

He frowned. “Like what?”

“Like…” You gestured vaguely. “This. The touches. The compliments. The way you look at me sometimes. Is it all still acting? Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

He stayed quiet for a long moment, jaw tight.

“It has to be acting,” he finally answered, voice low. “That’s what we agreed on.”

You nodded, but your chest ached.

“Right. Of course.”

You turned to go to your room, but his voice stopped you.

“…You looked beautiful tonight.”

You froze in the hallway.

This time, he didn’t add “for the cameras.” He didn’t justify it. He just said it.

And when you looked back, Hyunjin was already walking to his own room, shoulders tense, like he had said too much.

You closed your door and leaned against it, heart racing.

The public believed the love story more than ever.

But inside these walls, the lines had stopped being clear a long time ago.

And for the first time, it wasn’t just you who was getting lost.

Hyunjin was starting to lose his way too.

────୨ৎ────

The message arrived at 7:12 AM like a bomb.

It was a private group chat used only by high-level staff. Someone — no one knew who yet — had leaked internal documents. Screenshots of the original contract. Emails discussing “narrative control.” Payment details. Timelines. Everything.

Within minutes, the documents were everywhere.

“CONTRACT LOVE EXPOSED: [Your Name] and Hyunjin’s Relationship is FAKE”

The internet exploded.

Clips from your dates, lives, and red carpet appearances were replayed with new eyes. Fans who had defended the relationship felt betrayed. Others who had been suspicious from the beginning celebrated. Hashtags like #FakeCouple and #ContractLove trended worldwide.

The company reacted fast. By 9 AM, an official statement was released:

“We deny the rumors. Hyunjin and [Your Name] are in a genuine relationship. The leaked documents are fabricated and taken out of context. Legal action will be taken against those responsible.”

But the damage was done. The doubt had already spread like wildfire.

---

Inside the apartment, the atmosphere was suffocating.

You and Hyunjin sat on opposite ends of the couch, phones in hand, watching the chaos unfold in real time. Neither of you had spoken for almost twenty minutes.

Hyunjin was the first to break the silence, voice low and tense.

“They’re saying there’s no real proof we’ve ever been intimate. No real kisses. No proper couple moments outside the staged ones.” He laughed bitterly. “They’re not wrong.”

You swallowed hard, eyes still glued to the screen.

“What do we do now?”

“The company wants us to post something together today. Something that looks more… real.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “They’re desperate.”

You nodded slowly. The pressure felt heavier than ever. The line you had both been walking was now razor-thin, and the leak had made everything ten times more unstable.

Throughout the day, the distance between you two became strange — closer in some ways, but more fragile in others.

Hyunjin started hovering more. He sat closer on the couch while you planned what to post. When you got anxious reading the hateful comments, he silently pushed a glass of water toward you without comment. Small things. Almost protective.

But the tension was also worse.

Every look lasted too long. Every accidental touch felt electric. The air between you crackled with everything unsaid — the fake kisses, the real feelings, the fear that this could all collapse at any moment.

In the evening, you finally posted together.

A simple photo: his hand holding yours, rings visible, with the caption “Through everything, we choose each other 💕”. It was carefully crafted, but after the leak, it felt hollow even to you.

Hyunjin posted the same photo on his account with the caption “Always.”

The comments were chaotic. Some believed it. Many didn’t.

That night, neither of you went to your rooms early.

You stayed in the living room, lights dim. Hyunjin sat on the floor leaning against the couch. You were curled up on the sofa. The silence wasn’t cold anymore — it was heavy with confusion.

“Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.

He looked up.

“Do you regret agreeing to this?”

Hyunjin stared at the floor for a long time before answering.

“At the beginning… yes. Now?” He shrugged. “I don’t know anymore.”

You turned to face him fully.

“Sometimes I forget it’s fake,” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “When you touch my hand or look at me during lives… it doesn’t feel fake.”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened, and for a moment you thought he would shut down like before. Instead, he spoke softly.

“I know.”

The admission hung in the air between you.

Hyunjin stood up slowly and moved to sit on the other end of the couch. Closer than usual, but still careful. He looked at you — really looked — and for the first time, the walls seemed thinner.

“The company wants us to do more,” he said. “Bigger gestures. Maybe even… a kiss for the cameras soon.”

Your heart raced.

“And what do you want?” you asked.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he reached out and gently took your hand, thumb tracing the matching ring on your finger. The touch was warm. Real.

“I don’t know anymore,” he whispered.

The leak had broken something open.

The public was doubting the relationship.

But inside these walls, the real problem was the opposite:

You were both starting to doubt that it was fake at all.

────୨ৎ────

The company never stopped pulling the strings.

Even after the leak, they adapted quickly. New “accidental” moments were strategically planted: a blurry photo of Hyunjin leaving the same building as you, a story where your voices overlapped in the background, a paparazzi shot of you two getting coffee early in the morning. Everything looked spontaneous. Everything kept the fire alive.

The public was hooked. Some believed it was real. Others called it damage control. But the interest never died down.

To push the narrative even further, the company planned something softer.

A private — but not really private — date by the Han River.

---

It was a cool evening. The company had arranged a semi-secluded spot with beautiful city lights reflecting on the water. A picnic blanket, some snacks, and “discreet” security nearby. They wanted natural photos. Romantic ones. The kind fans would screenshot and analyze for days.

You arrived first, wearing a simple oversized sweater, jeans, and a coat. Hyunjin showed up ten minutes later in a black coat and scarf, looking effortlessly handsome as always.

At first, the awkwardness lingered. You sat on the blanket, the Han River flowing quietly beside you, the Seoul skyline glowing in the distance.

But something was different tonight.

Maybe it was the lack of immediate cameras in your faces. Maybe it was the gentle breeze and the sound of water. Or maybe it was the fact that both of you were slowly getting tired of pretending.

The conversation started slow, but it flowed.

“You’ve been sleeping better?” Hyunjin asked, voice softer than usual.

You looked at him, surprised by the question.

“A little. The new song is almost ready, so I’ve been less stressed.”

He nodded, picking at a piece of fruit. “I saw you practicing yesterday. You’re really good. The emotion you put in… it’s rare.”

The compliment felt genuine. You smiled shyly.

“Thank you. I’ve seen some of your new choreography too. You always make it look easy.”

He chuckled, a real one this time. “It’s not. But I like when it looks that way.”

As the minutes passed, the tension between you two began to melt. You talked about small things — favorite late-night snacks, embarrassing moments on stage, dreams you had before debut. Hyunjin listened more than he spoke, but when he did, his voice was calm and attentive.

At one point, he leaned back on his hands, looking at the river.

“This doesn’t feel so bad,” he murmured.

You turned to him. “What doesn’t?”

“Being here. With you.”

Your heart skipped. The city lights reflected in his eyes, and for a moment, the contract, the company, the rumors — everything faded.

You moved a little closer. He didn’t pull away.

The air grew thicker. Warmer. His gaze dropped to your lips for a second before returning to your eyes. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Hyunjin lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered on your cheek.

Neither of you spoke.

Then, gently, he leaned in.

The kiss was soft. Calm. Unexpectedly real.

His lips moved against yours with no rush, no performance. One of his hands cupped your face while the other rested on your waist, pulling you closer. You kissed him back, fingers gripping the front of his coat. It wasn’t passionate or dramatic. It was quiet. Honest. The kind of kiss that happened when two people stopped thinking about who was watching.

When you pulled apart, foreheads still touching, Hyunjin’s eyes were darker than before.

“…That wasn’t for the cameras,” he whispered.

You smiled faintly, breathless.

“I know.”

You stayed like that for a while — sitting close, shoulders touching, watching the river flow. His arm eventually wrapped around you. You leaned into him. For the first time in months, the silence between you felt comfortable.

But nothing in this relationship stayed private for long.

The next morning, photos from the river date were already circulating. Someone had taken them from a distance. The company denied leaking them, but everyone knew how these things worked.

The kiss wasn’t fully visible in the photos.

But the closeness was.

And the public went wild once again.

---

Back in the apartment the following day, the atmosphere had changed.

Hyunjin was quieter, more thoughtful. You caught him staring at you more than once. When you made coffee in the morning, he accepted the cup with a small “thank you” and a lingering look.

Neither of you talked about the kiss.

But you both felt it.

The line between acting and reality wasn’t just blurred anymore.

It was disappearing.

And neither of you knew what would happen when it finally vanished completely.

────୨ৎ────

The apartment was silent when you returned from the Han River.

You closed the door behind you quietly, heart still racing from the kiss. Your lips tingled. Your skin remembered exactly where Hyunjin’s hands had been — one on your waist, the other gently cupping your face. The way he had pulled you closer. The softness of his mouth. The quiet sound he made when you kissed him back.

You leaned against the door for a moment, eyes closed, trying to steady your breathing.

It was just for the moment, you told yourself. It didn’t mean anything.

But you knew you were lying.

You went straight to your room, closing the door and leaning against it. The memory wouldn’t leave you alone. The way the city lights had reflected in his eyes right before he leaned in. The warmth of his breath. The way his thumb had brushed your cheek so tenderly.

You changed into an oversized t-shirt and crawled into bed, but sleep refused to come.

Your mind kept replaying the kiss on loop.

The way he had whispered “That wasn’t for the cameras.”

The way your body had reacted — melting into him, wanting more.

Your hand slowly slid down your stomach, slipping under the hem of your shirt. You bit your lip, hesitant for a second, but the ache between your legs was becoming impossible to ignore.

You closed your eyes and let the memory take over.

You imagined Hyunjin’s hands again — this time sliding under your sweater, warm palms against your bare skin. You remembered how strong he felt when he pulled you closer by the river. Your fingers dipped lower, brushing over your panties. You were already wet.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you pressed two fingers against your clit, rubbing slow circles.

In your mind, it was Hyunjin touching you.

You pictured him pushing you gently against the railing by the river, kissing you deeper, hungrier. His tongue sliding against yours. His hand slipping under your clothes, fingers teasing you exactly where you needed it.

You moaned quietly, legs spreading a little wider under the sheets.

“Hyunjin…” you whispered to yourself, voice barely audible.

Your fingers moved faster, pressing harder. You imagined him whispering your name against your neck, voice low and rough the way it got when he was emotional. You imagined him kissing down your throat, sucking gently on your skin while his fingers pushed inside you.

The pleasure built quickly. Your free hand gripped the sheets as your hips started rolling against your hand. You were soaked now, the sound of your fingers moving wet and obscene in the quiet room.

You thought about the way he looked at you after the kiss — dark eyes, slightly parted lips, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. You imagined him pinning you against the wall in this very apartment, kissing you like he meant it, grinding against you, telling you he couldn’t pretend anymore.

“Fuck…” you gasped, back arching off the bed.

Your fingers moved faster, chasing the high. The memory of his soft “That wasn’t for the cameras” pushed you over the edge.

You came hard, thighs trembling, biting down on your lip to stay quiet as waves of pleasure crashed through you. His name slipped from your mouth again in a broken whisper.

When it was over, you lay there breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling.

Reality came back slowly.

You had just touched yourself thinking about Hwang Hyunjin — the same man who had once called you arrogant. The same man who was only supposed to be pretending.

And the worst part?

You wanted the real thing.

---

In the room across the hall, Hyunjin couldn’t sleep either.

He lay on his back, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling. The kiss by the river kept replaying in his mind too.

He remembered how soft your lips were. How perfectly you had fit against him. How you had kissed him back without hesitation.

He turned on his side, frustrated.

It was just acting,he told himself.

But even he didn’t believe it anymore.

He had been avoiding direct contact with you since you got back. He stayed in his room more. Spoke less. But his mind wouldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you looking up at him by the river, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and honest.

He groaned quietly and ran a hand down his face.

This was getting dangerous.

The contract was supposed to be simple. Six months. Fake it until the end. But the lines had blurred so much he couldn’t even see them anymore.

He wondered if you were thinking about the kiss too.

He had no idea you were touching yourself in the other room, moaning his name under your breath.

The emotional connection between you two was growing stronger every day, even as the physical distance remained. Small gestures. Long looks. Shared silences that felt heavier with meaning.

Neither of you was ready to admit it.

But the kiss by the river had changed something irreversible.

And now, lying awake in separate rooms, both of you were feeling the weight of it.

The contract was still there.

But the feelings?

They were becoming very, very real.

────୨ৎ────

Hwang Hyunjin couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss.

It had been three days since that night by the Han River, and the memory refused to fade. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again: the soft glow of the city lights on your face, the way you looked up at him right before he leaned in, the quiet sound you made when his lips touched yours.

He was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, back against the bed, sketchbook open on his lap but untouched. The pencil in his hand had been still for almost twenty minutes.

It was just acting, he repeated to himself for the hundredth time.We were supposed to make it believable. That’s all.

But the more he tried to convince himself, the more the lie fell apart.

He remembered how you hadn’t pulled away. How you had kissed him back. How, for a few seconds, the entire world had disappeared and it was just the two of you by the river — no cameras, no contract, no expectations.

Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

He had created a very clear image of you in his head from the beginning. The arrogant idol who spoke coldly to staff. The one who complained in private messages. The “problematic” girl the company forced him to date for image repair.

That image was crumbling.

Lately, he noticed things he didn’t want to notice.

The way you thanked every staff member sincerely, even when exhausted. How you practiced until your body couldn’t take it anymore. The quiet way you handled hate comments without complaining to anyone. The small smiles you gave when you thought no one was looking.

He stood up and paced around his room.

This is dangerous.

The contract was clear. Six months. Fake it. End it cleanly. Falling for you — or even starting to care — was the fastest way to complicate everything. For his career. For the group. For you.

Still, he found himself doing things he couldn’t explain.

That morning, when he heard you coughing in your room, he left a warm bottle of honey tea in front of your door without a word. Yesterday, when you came home late from practice, he had ordered your favorite late-night soup and left it in the fridge with a note that simply said “eat.”

He told himself it was just maintaining the act.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t.

---

Later that evening, you crossed paths in the kitchen.

You were making ramyeon, hair up in a messy bun, wearing one of your big t-shirts. Hyunjin walked in to grab water and stopped for a second when he saw you.

The memory of the kiss hit him again.

You looked up and gave him a small, tired smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, voice quieter than usual.

The air felt thick. You both moved carefully around each other, hyper-aware of the space between your bodies. When your arm brushed his while reaching for something, he froze for half a second.

You noticed.

“Hyunjin… is everything okay?” you asked softly.

He looked at you. Really looked. His eyes traced your face — the slight shadows under your eyes from lack of sleep, the way you bit your lip when nervous.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just tired.”

He wanted to say more. He wanted to ask if you had been thinking about the kiss too. He wanted to tell you that he couldn’t stop remembering how soft you felt against him.

Instead, he grabbed his water and left the kitchen without another word.

---

Alone in his room again, Hyunjin sat on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands.

He was scared.

Not of the scandal. Not of the company. Not even of the fans.

He was scared because for the first time in a long time, he was feeling something real — and it was for the person he had sworn to keep at a distance.

He remembered how you looked at him by the river. How your fingers had gripped his coat. How you hadn’t hesitated.

“Fuck,” he whispered to the empty room.

He stood up and went to the window, looking out at the city lights. The same lights that had witnessed your kiss.

He knew he should pull back. Create more distance. Protect both of you from whatever this was becoming.

But another part of him — a bigger part than he wanted to admit — wanted to get closer.

He thought about the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. The way you worked so hard even when the world was against you. The quiet strength you carried every single day.

The old image he had of you was gone.

And in its place was something much more dangerous:

You.

Just you.

Hyunjin leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed his eyes.

He didn’t know what he was going to do.

But he knew one thing for certain:

The contract was no longer the hardest thing he had to deal with.

You were.

And he was starting to fall.

────୨ৎ────

The days after the kiss by the Han River felt like walking on thin ice.

Everything looked the same on the outside — the shared apartment, the matching rings, the occasional “couple” posts required by the company. But inside, the air had changed. It was heavier. More fragile. Like one wrong word could make everything crack.

Hyunjin started pulling away.

It wasn’t sudden or dramatic. It was slow, calculated, almost invisible. He went back to being polite but distant. Short answers. Avoiding eye contact for too long. Spending more time in his room with the door closed. When you were in the same space, he moved around you like you were made of glass — careful, but never close.

You felt every inch of the growing distance.

The warmth that had started to appear after the river kiss was disappearing. The small gestures — leaving snacks, asking if you had eaten, the lingering looks — became rare. He was trying to regain control, and you could see the struggle in his eyes every time he looked at you for a second too long before turning away.

One afternoon, the company scheduled another “casual” public appearance: a short café date in a private room for photos. You sat across from each other, smiling for the cameras that weren’t even in the room but would definitely see the leaked pictures later.

Hyunjin played his part well. He held your hand across the table. He smiled when the waiter came by. He even tucked a strand of hair behind your ear like he had done by the river.

But the moment the staff left, he let go of your hand like it burned him.

The silence on the way back to the apartment was painful.

You finally spoke when you were inside, voice quiet.

“Hyunjin… did I do something wrong?”

He stopped in the hallway, back still turned to you.

“No,” he answered after a pause. “You didn’t.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re running away?”

He didn’t answer. He just went into his room and closed the door softly.

You stood there for a long time, chest aching. The kiss that had felt so real now felt like a dream you were being punished for believing in.

---

Hyunjin was fighting a war inside his own head.

Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the way you had kissed him back. The way your fingers had gripped his coat. The way you had looked at him afterward — soft, surprised, and honest.

He hated how much he wanted to do it again.

So he distanced himself. He told himself it was the smart thing to do. The safe thing. Getting emotionally involved would only destroy both of you when the contract ended. The company would never allow it. The fans might turn against you. His members could get dragged into the mess.

But the more he pulled away, the more he noticed you.

The way you tried to act normal even when hurt. The quiet way you moved around the apartment so you wouldn’t bother him. The tired smiles you gave during forced public appearances.

He was confused. Angry at himself. Scared.

Because no matter how hard he tried to put you back in the old box — the “arrogant idol” box — you no longer fit.

---

The company, completely unaware of the internal chaos, kept pushing.

They scheduled more appearances: a shopping “date” where you were photographed leaving a store together, a joint Instagram live where you answered fan questions while sitting close on the couch, and even a planned “surprise” visit to one of his rehearsals.

During the live, Hyunjin was perfect on camera — smiling, playful, calling you “angel” again for the fans. But the second the camera turned off, he stood up and went to the kitchen without a word.

You stayed on the couch, staring at your hands.

Later that night, you found a small note on the kitchen counter.

“There’s soup in the fridge. Heat it up before eating.”

No signature. No explanation.

Just another silent gesture that made your heart hurt even more.

You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to ask if the kiss had meant anything. You wanted to know if he was feeling even half of what you were feeling.

But you stayed quiet.

Because you were terrified of the answer.

---

The emotional distance between you two grew every day.

Hyunjin became more calculated in public — the perfect fake boyfriend. But in private, he was a ghost. Present, but unreachable.

You started questioning everything.

Was the kiss real?

Was any of the softness from the past weeks real?

Or had you just been a better actress than you thought?

One night, after another forced public appearance, you sat on the living room floor with your back against the couch, exhausted. Hyunjin came out of his room to get water and stopped when he saw you.

For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something. His eyes softened. He took a small step forward.

But then he stopped himself.

He grabbed the water and went back to his room without a word.

You hugged your knees to your chest and whispered to the empty room:

“I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

The contract still had months to go.

But the feelings?

They were no longer under control.

And both of you were slowly drowning in the space between what was fake… and what was becoming terrifyingly real.

────୨ৎ────

The silence had become unbearable.

For days, Hyunjin had been pulling away — short answers, closed doors, avoiding your eyes like you were something dangerous. Every small progress you thought you had made after the kiss by the Han River seemed to have vanished. The warmth was gone. The distance was back, colder than before.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

It was past midnight when you finally knocked on his bedroom door. Your hands were shaking. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.

Hyunjin opened the door. He was wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants, hair messy like he hadn’t slept either. When he saw it was you, his expression tightened.

“What?” he asked, voice low.

You stepped inside without waiting for permission, closing the door behind you. The room smelled like his cologne and fresh paint.

“Why are you doing this?” you started, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why did you suddenly go back to being cold after the river? After everything?”

Hyunjin crossed his arms, leaning against his desk.

“I’m not being cold. I’m being realistic.”

“Realistic?” Your voice rose. “You kissed me like that and now you act like I don’t exist? Like nothing happened?”

He looked away, jaw clenched.

“It was a mistake.”

The words hit you like a slap.

“A mistake?” you repeated, voice cracking. “You said it wasn’t for the cameras. You said—”

“I know what I said!” he snapped, finally raising his voice. “Fuck, do you think this is easy for me? We have a contract, (your name). Six months. Fake. That was the deal. I’m trying to not make this any more complicated than it already is.”

You felt tears burning in your eyes.

“So you’re just going to pretend it didn’t mean anything? That pulling me closer, kissing me like that… it was all acting?”

Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“I don’t know what it was, okay?!” he raised his voice. “I’m confused as fuck! One minute I’m telling myself this is all fake, the next I can’t stop thinking about you. About the way you kissed me back. About how you looked at me. This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

You took a step closer, tears now falling freely down your cheeks.

“I’m falling for you, Hyunjin,” you confessed, voice breaking. “I tried not to. I swear I did. But every time you touch me, every time you look at me like you care… I can’t pretend anymore. And now you’re running away like a coward.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened. For a second, he looked completely lost.

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, almost pleading. Then his tone hardened again. “You think I’m not scared? I’m fucking terrified! If we let this become real, what happens when the contract ends? What happens when the company finds out? What happens when the fans turn on us — on you — again?”

“I don’t care!” you shouted, crying harder. “At least be honest with me! Stop treating me like I’m nothing after making me feel like I was something!”

Hyunjin stepped forward, eyes blazing with frustration and something deeper.

“You think I don’t feel anything?” he yelled back. “Every time I see you, I want to kiss you again. Every time you smile at me, I forget why I’m supposed to stay away. You’re driving me insane, (your name)! I hate this. I hate how much I want you. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you even when I’m trying to push you away!”

The room fell silent except for your quiet sobs.

You wiped your tears angrily, voice trembling.

“Then stop pushing me away… or just tell me you don’t want me. Say it clearly.”

Hyunjin stared at you, breathing heavily. His eyes were red, conflicted, full of emotions he didn’t know how to name.

“I can’t say that,” he admitted, voice rough. “Because it would be a lie.”

You stood there crying, chest heaving. He looked like he wanted to reach out and wipe your tears, but he held himself back, fists clenched at his sides.

Nothing was solved.

The silence between you had finally broken, but what replaced it was raw, messy, and terrifying.

Hyunjin looked away, voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You wiped your face one last time and headed toward the door.

“Neither do I,” you said softly. “But I can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t hurt.”

You left his room without closing the door.

Hyunjin stood there for a long time after you were gone, staring at the empty space where you had been.

For the first time since the contract began, both of you were completely lost.

And the feelings you could no longer ignore were becoming stronger than any contract ever could be.

You ignore him and stare at Seungcheol instead. 

“There must be someone else,” you try, naively optimistic. “Gyu? Joshua?” But he grimaces and the student government office, already more of a closet than a room, closes in on you just a fraction more. 

“Everyone’s too busy to run next year."

Across from you, Chan’s brows furrow just a little as he feels a surge of annoyance overcome him. You don’t even know him—you just met him—and here you are, writing him off.

⊹

“I hate her,” Chan declares that night, half-heartedly watching Minho and Changbin play billiards in the basement of their frat house. “She just officially met me today, and she’s already campaigning to get people to run against me.”

“Sounds like she’s just a bitch,” Minho says, his brow furrowing when he misses a shot.

Chan ignores him, continuing his diatribe: “When I win, I’ll keep her on the e-board. Make her fucking miserable.”

Changbin snorts, effortlessly sinking another ball in and then leveling his gaze at Chan. “You know how I can tell you don’t hate her?”

“I do hate—”

“If you really hated her, you’d replace her when you win. But you want her on your e-board.”

“To rub it in, and to—”

“Y/N Y/L/N, right? I’ve had classes with her. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“It’s not about her being pretty,” Chan grumbles. “Plenty of pretty girls around.”

Changbin hums.

⊹

“I might make a good president, Y/N,” Chan says slowly the next day, watching you continue to write in your planner, not even deigning to make eye contact with him as he addresses you. “I think you’re treating me really unfairly. It’s not my fault your crush is leaving student government.”

A wildcard shot, really, but when your eyes shoot up to meet his instantly, he knows his aim was right on.

“I don’t have a crush on Seungcheol.”

“No?” Chan leans back, savoring your undivided attention on him. “You don’t hang out here all the time hoping to cross paths with him? You didn’t hide the footstool so that you can ask him to help you pin things up on the part of the bulletin board you can’t reach?”

How could he possibly know that, you think. Your face flushes and your chest tightens.

“Come on, Y/N,” he stares you down, “You act like your ears don’t turn cherry red whenever he smiles at you or brushes up against you.”

“They don’t,” you protest weakly, your eyes closing as you hear how pathetic the denial is. Were you actually this obvious?

⊹

“Private party, sorry.” The door swings shut before you can even process what the random girl said. Your fist nears the door, about to knock again, but then you back up and check the address and mailbox label. It’s the right place. This is definitely Chan’s frat house.

I’m here, you text him, feeling silly as you loiter on the steps outside the building.

Do you need an escort or something? Just come in.

Just go in? You knock again, plastering on your best fake smile when someone else comes to the door. Not the girl, but a guy this time. His eyes narrow as he looks you up and down.

“Private par—”

“Private party, I know,” you answer, trying to imbue some confidence into your voice so you sound like you belong here. “Chan asked me to—”

He walks away from you then, into the house, but leaves the door open. You take a deep breath and follow him in, shutting the door gently behind you and peering around the living room. It’s cleaner than you thought it would be, even though there’s already bottles of beer and joints scattered on the coffee table. You try not to make eye contact with anyone. Most of them are making out or grinding against each other.

“Chan’s downstairs,” the guy says, nodding his head towards the door near the staircase.

“Thank you,” you call after him, feeling a little better when he hums in acknowledgment.

You’re not prepared to enter a frat house basement. You freeze when you step into the haze, coughing immediately at the strong smell of weed. Chan’s on the couch surrounded by people who either seem drunk or high out of their mind. One of the girls is straddling his lap and others surround him, laughing when he pours some beer down their throats or holds up his joint for them.

It’s not too late to turn back, you think. You can reschedule this, and—

“Y/N,” Chan says, his voice startlingly clear, cleanly snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Um, hi,” you say, stepping closer to him. You see two other guys sitting on opposite armchairs, also with girls hanging off them, and you stare at one of them for a second too long before your eyes flick back dutifully to Chan’s. “Do we want to go somewhere else for this?”

“Why would we?” He lifts the girl off his lap and says something to her. Suddenly, everyone’s getting off the couch and flocking to the guys in the armchairs instead.

“You can sit,” Chan says, an amused grin on his face as he pats the seat next to him.

You glance at the sofa and then him and shake your head. “I’m actually fine standing,” you say, breaking eye contact to riffle through your bag and pull out your resume. “Here, and I have a cover letter too, and—“

“Y/N, you understand that if you’re going to keep your role as Comms Director, you'd report directly to me, right?”

“Yes,” you mumble, feeling your face flush as you slow your searching for the cover letter.

“And for us to have a functioning working relationship, you need to listen to me, yeah?”

“Yeah, I know, I—“

“Then sit the fuck down and look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Your breath stutters and you sit down, staring at him, wide-eyed, as he scans your resume before tossing it aside. 

“Let’s start with flyers,” he announces suddenly. “Design me some good ones. Due Monday morning, please.” 

You blink, mentally rearranging your weekend schedule already. You could bring your laptop to brunch with your roommate...maybe skip the weekly trivia night with your friends? You nod, expecting some good will from your acceptance of the short turnaround, but Chan leaves you to start a game of beer pong in the backyard. 

You stand around awkwardly for another ten minutes, not sure if that’s all he wanted from you. When you feel silly for just waiting around, you leave, smelling faintly like weed and beer.

⊹

You send the flyer to him the next day, happy to be done with it. You don’t think about it until hours later, when he emails you:

“Oh my god,” you huff, staring at the email you just got.

You bite your lip, refreshing your inbox and waiting for the icon to show up. You feel silly when it doesn’t come after two minutes. It’s a Friday night, and along with being the most likely student government president-elect, Chan’s the president of his frat too. He’s not like you, he’s probably drinking and—ding. You open the email immediately.

Better. Send me the original file. I’ll just make the rest of the edits myself.

You should be happy that your duty is done, but you’re not.

What edits? I can make them.

Refresh.

Original file, Y/N.

You frown.

No, Chan.

⊹

You almost forget about the email exchange from the weekend, but when you walk into the student government lounge Monday morning, new flyers with Chan’s face on them are plastered around the room. It looks good, but it’s not your work.

“You redid it?” You ask, your contempt giving in to your insecurity when you take in the edited photo and sharper copy. It’s…better than what you came up with.

“Yeah, I had one of the girls in my marketing class do it. She does good work, doesn’t she? Luckily for you, she’s not interested in stu gov though, so you’ll keep your job.” The words have the intended effect and you grow quiet.

“I could’ve made those edits,” you say dumbly.

“You know how they say the best photos are when the photographers have a real appreciation for the subject? Well—”

“That’s not—”

“Don’t interrupt me,” he snaps, his cocky grin dissipating, morphing into something sterner. You automatically nod, your eyes wide.

“As I was saying. Clearly you hate me, so how could you possibly make my campaign materials look good? That’s okay though, you can just help with handing out the flyers. Start with those five hundred.”

“Five hundred?”

“Seungcheol said you were the best right hand for any student body president. Is he a liar?”

“No, I just meant…I’m a good right hand, not your personal assistant.”

Chan ignores you. “Go, Y/N.”

“Okay. But…don’t tell Cheolie about the whole flyer thing?” You ask, miserably moving towards the doorway, papers in hand. 

Chan’s eyes narrow. Cheolie? His gaze drops briefly to your mouth before he looks away. “I’ll tell Seungcheol whatever the fuck I want. Go.”

⊹

You’re a good Comms Director, Chan realizes, as he hovers over you in the office the next week, caging you in with one hand on the desk near your hip while he scans the campaign materials on your laptop. Sharp, direct copy. Nice designs. Smart placements. 

He’s still reading but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your face, clearly tired, as you squirm in the chair. He glances up towards the clock—he’s kept you here for six hours already. You fidget again. 

“What do you want, Y/N?” He asks in a low voice, right by your ear, still keeping you trapped in your chair, stuck between it and the desk. 

You suppress a yawn. “I want to go home,” you answer easily. “I have a psych paper to finish.”

Chan shakes his head. “Is that really it? What do you actually want, Y/N? Use your words.”

Heat crawls up the back of your neck at his tone but you’re too tired to do anything but sit back in your chair and close your eyes. “I want you to tell me I did a good job so I can go home.” You finally admit, cheeks turning a little pink. 

You don’t see the smile on Chan’s face when he withdraws, moving back to his own seat. “You did a good job. You can go home.”

You hate how your stomach flips at the acknowledgement, even as you bite back just a little. "High praise," you mutter.

"Go home before I change my mind, Y/N."

⊹

You and Chan are still in the student government office at 11 pm the next Tuesday, deep in campaign planning.

He rattles off a list of ideas, some good, some bad, everywhere from a students vs. professors basketball game fundraiser to a raffle for a PlayStation. You type it all up on your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as your eyes scan over the budget spreadsheet. 

When he starts talking about casino night, you pipe up as the voice of reason: “I think we need to focus on allocating expenses for printing more flyers first. And maybe for things like stickers and buttons?” 

Chan grins, scooting his seat closer to you. “Hey, I heard that you were a blackjack fiend during Seungcheol’s casino night fundraiser. Had to pull you away from the table. That true?” 

Your cheeks burn and you move your laptop slightly so it sits between you and Chan, partially obscuring your face. “That’s not how I remember it,” you mumble, but Chan is already up and grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing?” You squeak, the protest ignored as he drags you out of the student government office and upstairs into the rest of the student union, where there’s a claw machine sitting in the corner. 

“Let’s take a break,” he says. “Are you any good at these?”

“Not really,” you say, eyeing a pink corduroy Miffy as you step up to the machine. Chan taps his phone against the payment processor and you try and fail to get the Miffy. He leans against the back wall, arms crossed, watching you, as you fish out your own phone to pay for another chance. Fail again. 

Tap. Fail. Tap. Fail. 

The corner of Chan’s lips twitch. So the rumors were true. 

“You’re an addict,” he concludes, laughing. Your brows furrow but you’re so focused on your fifth or sixth attempt that you don’t even glare at him, eyes glued to the claw machine. 

“Not an addict,” you retort quickly. “It’s just...really cute and I want it.” 

Really cute and I want it, Chan thinks, still grinning as he steps in behind you, wrapping his hand over yours where it's clenched tight around the joystick, steering your grip. Words of protest die in your throat as you feel his hard chest pressed against your back and your mind goes static. 

His free hand taps his phone against the payment processor again and with his guidance, the claw catches the Miffy and drops it into the prize chute.

“Here, sweetheart,” he says, letting go of you to bend down and retrieve the stuffed animal. You swallow and watch him straighten up. “No need to waste all your life savings gambling. This is for you.” 

You accept the Miffy, fingers brushing against his for half a second. “Thanks,” you say. "Can I try to win something for you?"

Chan laughs and steers you away from the machine. "Not a chance, addict."

⊹

Rei kind of reminds you of Chan, charismatic and reassuring, all confident smiles and perfect hair as she walks you through the winding hallways of the student union basement until you’re in front of B331, the comically extravagant office of Mark Chen, chief justice of the student government’s judicial branch.

In the few seconds between when she knocks and when Mark’s door swings opens, you take a step back, tempted to just turn around and leave.

“I don’t know about—”

Your already quiet voice cuts off completely when Mark smiles down at you. “Y/N,” he greets warmly, ushering you in. Like Chan, Rei is new to student government, so he’s distinctly cooler when he addresses her: “Rei, welcome.”

She takes her seat immediately, ignoring the anxiety emanating from you. “Justice Chen,” she says smoothly, appealing to Mark’s authority after a scan of his desk with his plaques and fake gavel. “It has come to my attention that Chan has been engaging in unfair electoral procedure and Y/N can testify.”

Mark doesn’t look surprised as he lifts his head to regard you, still standing awkwardly near the door. Word must not have reached him about you working on Chan’s campaign—he only knows you as the good girl who runs errands for Student Body President Seungcheol, and of course he would expect you to set aside everything for the integrity of the office.

“Jay’s not in,” he says, flipping through his desk calendar. “He’s the Chair of the Student Election Commission, but I can take notes and—”

“That’d be great,” Rei beams. 

⊹

You’re back in the student government office that night, designing social media posts. When you turn around to reach for your water bottle, Chan is completely crowding your personal space, his chest nearly grazing yours. You back up reflexively and he advances in return until you’re pressed against the bulletin board, thumbtacks and flyers against your back, completely boxed in.

“Do you want to be my Comms Director, Y/N?”

Your brows furrow. What kind of question is that? You’ve worked so hard on his campaign, for god's sake. “Of course I do, I just spent all day tabling in the—”

“The way I see it,” he interrupts you, stepping so close that you’re really trapped now. “You’re a little traitor helping the enemy. Do you disagree?” 

“Is...is this about me and Rei at the SEC earlier?” You ask, blinking up at him with wide, earnest eyes. “She dragged me there and I couldn’t just lie! And the Elections Commissioner wasn’t even there so—”

Chan clicks his tongue, cutting you off, his hand flattening on the wall beside your head. “A loyal little Comms Director would have kept her mouth shut, don’t you think?”

“It’s not a big deal,” you murmur, the air in the small office going thick as Chan breathes down on you. “Mark gave us a warning and—”

“I don’t care about that.” Chan says, his tone firm. “Are you loyal to me, Y/N, yes or no?”

You swallow hard, the sound embarrassingly loud. You’re loyal to student government, to your post...

“Yes.”

Chan hums. “Good. Luckily, I know Jay, so this won’t be a real problem for us, but this is not a conversation I want to have with you ever again. Understand?” 

You nod a little too fast. “Yes,” you reassure him, voice shaky. Chan studies your expression for a beat and when he’s satisfied with what he finds, he finally steps back, giving you room to breathe again as he retreats to the couch. 

“Next time I won’t talk to anyone without your permission, Your Highness,” you say, finding your courage again now that he’s not pinning you up against the wall. "Happy?"

Chan’s eyes flash at the title and a smirk tugs on his lips. "Getting there."

⊹

You walk out of the student government office in tears. You have a demerit on your record now. An actual line in your file, in ink, spelling out your lack of professionalism and snide remarks. Seungcheol’s voice was serious and disappointed as he spoke to you, telling you plainly that if you didn’t change your tune, you’d be removed from your position in student government.

He had read aloud that initial email exchange and some of your oh-so clever comebacks to Chan, but they didn’t seem so smart anymore. Then, he had pulled out the student government handbook and had you read him the code of conduct and the responsibilities of the Comms Director during election season, patient, almost bored, as you clenched and unclenched your fists, trying so hard not to cry in front of him but still eventually failing.

The meeting ended with his soft voice saying your name, a sweet sound tinged with reassurance, as if talking down a crying six year old. You responded with a stiff, professional reply, followed by a request, reluctantly granted, to get going if that was all.

The walk to your apartment from campus usually takes you twenty minutes, but you get there in a little under fifteen today, desperate to return to your safe haven. Even your building isn’t off-limits to Chan, however.

“Hey Y/N,” Chan greets, smirking at you as you approach the door. “Anything eventful happen during your meeting with Cheolie?”

You flinch and try your best to ignore him, instead punching the elevator button aggressively and squeezing your eyes shut tight when Chan follows you in.

The joke on his tongue disappears when he sees the tears shining in your eyes. Are you actually this sensitive? Who gives a fuck about a complaint filed through student government? Most of the student body didn’t even know it existed. Plus, this was the perfect revenge for the thing with Rei. You had to respect that...right?

He says your name again, a bit of concern flooding him as he watches you storm out of the elevator and struggle with your keys three times before he finally gently pushes you aside and takes them from you. You mumble a quiet thanks when he opens your door, not even trying to stop him as he follows you into his apartment.

Screw being a good host, you think, as you quickly drop your bag in the corner and strip off your coat. He invited himself in.

Chan, maybe for the first time in his life, feels out of place as he stands in your studio apartment, walls plastered in posters and certificates. It’s cute and he’s curious enough to really take it all in, for sure, but his attention can’t seem to stray from your face. You look miserable. He did that.

“Hey,” he tries again, softening his voice when you slide into bed, burying your head in your pillows. “Y/N, come on. What happened?”

He kind of hopes that maybe it’s not his fault. Maybe you’re crying because you finally confessed your feelings to Seungcheol, and he rejected you. It’d be a lot easier to comfort you if Chan wasn’t the reason for your tears, but he knows he probably is.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, the words dragged out, interspersed between hiccuping sobs. “I’m sorry for being…being difficult. I should’ve—”

“Stop, Y/N,” Chan says, sitting down on your bed and stroking your hair slowly, waiting to see if you’ll come to your senses and kick him out.

You don’t. You keep crying for another half hour and Chan just lets you, playing with your hair and patting your back a little bit when you choke on a sob. When you stop, he thinks you might be ready to talk, but he frowns when he realizes you’re just asleep. He made you cry yourself to sleep.

⊹

When you wake up, Chan’s in your kitchen, cooking something that smells surprisingly good. Your stomach growls and when he turns around to look at you, you purse your lips.

“I’m not hungry,” you try. 

“Too bad,” he says. “Come on, dinner’s almost ready.”

You put up a bit of resistance, but maybe the emotions from today were too much, because you give into Chan so easily. You don’t even blink when he insists on feeding you, just sitting there numbly and letting him do whatever he wants. That’s what you should’ve done all along. Appease him, which would make Seungcheol proud of you. Not this futile fight you’ve been putting up.

“He’s not upset with you because you broke conduct, you know,” Chan says quietly, not looking at you as he hands over a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks. “He’s pissed you did it because of me.”

You shake your head, first in confusion, then in disbelief when Chan starts explaining it to you. 

“That’s not—”

“The one time you were a little interesting to him, it was because another man provoked you and you fought back, all bratty and flirty.”

You keep shaking your head, but his words, true or not, slowly sink in. Your adherence to the rules makes you boring to Seungcheol, Chan says bluntly, and he resents that he couldn’t turn his good girl right hand into a flirtatious rulebreaker.

⊹

Chan can’t help but smile when you show up at the student government office bright and early the next morning, mumbling a quiet hi to Seungcheol in your best HR voice on the way straight to him.

“Sleep well?” He asks casually, locking eyes with Seungcheol as you smile and nod at him.

“Yes, thank you, Channie,” you say, oblivious to the disapproving look in Seungcheol’s eyes. Chan basks in it—it takes him a few seconds to pry his eyes away from the discontent ones across the room and back to yours. “Good,” he coos. “Come help me with this?”

You obediently take the seat next to him and huddle up against him as you reach for the trackpad on his laptop, giggling at something he says, and Seungcheol clears his throat.

“Y/N, I need you at senate training today. Noon to 10 PM.”

Your face falls. A protest almost escapes you before you nod, acquiescing. Seungcheol shoots Chan a satisfied look. He doesn’t look up though, too busy taking in your wide, apologetic eyes. There’s a pleading quality to them that he can't help but love. “I’m sorry I can’t be of much help today,” you say sweetly.

Chan laughs, telling you how nonsensical that is, and then announces his decision to sit in on the senate training. As the president-elect, he should see how the legislative branch works, right? He doesn’t make eye contact when he sees you sit up in excitement out of the corner of his eye, but he can’t hide the smile on his lips. Seungcheol’s mouth flattens into a tight line, the same way it always does when one of his staffers behaves in any manner less than perfectly professional, but he says nothing.

⊹

The first time you meet Chan’s friends, you’re predictably nervous. The frat house looks less menacing in the day time, sure, but it’s still a frat house. 

You tried to get out of it, tried to protest that the student government office was a better setting for the work you two were doing, but apparently his frat house also has a commercial printer, so that was that. You’re sitting at the kitchen island now, doing homework, while the boys are sprawled around the first floor, doing different things. 

Han—you recognize him from the nightmare calc class you took last semester—sits with you, clearly nosy because he pokes you every time you mess up a differential equation. 

“Go easy on her, Hannie,” Chan admonishes, his focus split between whatever video game he’s playing and the impromptu tutoring session happening at the dining table. “She still hasn’t wrapped her head around how cool people can be smart.”

Before you can protest, Hyunjin, the guy who opened the door for you at the party, snorts from behind you. “Smarter than her.”

“Captain of the soccer team,” he continues, smirking as he points to himself. “Chair of the alumni donations committee, president of art club…and I party, Y/N. Not that you would know, since you live in the library.”

Your cheeks burn. Your eyes flick to Chan.

He assesses you, drinking in the pleading quality to your expression that he loves so much. In just under two seconds, he’s made up his mind: this kind of teasing is something you can handle. He turns back to the game, making a jab about whatever maneuver Felix just attempted.

“Come on,” Han says, tapping his pen in front of you in an attempt to refocus your attention. “Don’t listen to him, just—”

"Oh man, that sucks," Felix chuckles suddenly. You follow everyone's gaze to the TV and watch Chan's character die spectacularly.

"So he's not good at everything," you tease, whispering conspiratorially to Hyunjin, who laughs loudly at the jab. "Oh, there's a lot he's not good at it. Pick up any of those games there. He's probably trash at it."

You giggle and then your eyes meet Chan's. "Don't pile onto the bullying, Y/N," he says lightly, like he's still in on the joke.

"Isn't this game supposed to be easy?" You grin, relaxing comfortably into the atmosphere. The boys laugh but Chan's gaze sharpens and you go still, your heart pounding faster. Sorry, you mouth, but all he does is nod towards your homework.

You duck your head and shift your focus back to the math, heat rushing to your face.

⊹

You sigh when Felix and Seungmin appear, flanking you on either side as you walk out of your philosophy lecture.

“I’m not a flight risk,” you say, pouting at Felix. It gets him to falter, but Seungmin steps up quickly, getting in between you two.

“Don’t try to manipulate him.”

“I’m not—“

He cuts you off by snapping his fingers in your face and then handing you a paper bag. “Yogurt and a tuna sandwich,” he explains. “Your boyfriend's orders to make sure you eat.”

You feel a wave of nausea at the mention of food—you could never maintain an appetite when midterms were coming up—but you take it and smile. “Don't have a boyfriend. But thank you, I’ll eat this later.”

“You’ll eat it now.” Seungmin replies swiftly.

“What?”

“Chan didn’t force Minho to make you that this morning just for you to throw it out. Eat it now.”

“I have class.”

“No you don’t.”

You end up eating the sandwich on the walk to the frat house.

⊹

When you send Chan an innocuous forgot my laptop charger :/ text the next Saturday afternoon, you don’t expect him to drop everything to deliver one. But he does, rushing to the library and flagging down the first freshman he sees to ask where the study rooms are. When he finally spots you, he just…stops to admire you. The workspace in front of you is all color coded notes and pretty charts and your hair—usually down—is up in a ponytail, exposing the curve of your neck and more of your face.

“What are you writing?” Chan asks as he pushes into the study room, charger in hand. 

Your face lights up when you see him and for a second, it steals Chan’s breath. 

“You didn’t have to rush here,” you say quickly, looking sheepish enough that he just stares, one eyebrow raised, as he rounds the table to plug the charger into the wall. 

“Thirty percent?” He groans. “I cut my nap short because your laptop is only at thirty percent? That’s like, an entire hour more of work.” 

You grin, clearing your bag and jacket out of the seat next to you to make room for him. “I didn’t ask you to bring me a charger. I was just…giving you an update on my life.” 

“Oh yeah?” Chan rolls his eyes, dropping into the seat next to yours and scooting in until his arm brushes against yours.

“How long have you been here?” 

“Since eight,” you answer honestly, glancing towards your empty iced latte from this morning. “I still have lots to do though, so don’t distract me.” 

Chan puts his hands up in surrender and then starts flipping through your notes, dozens of pages of your neat, meticulous handwriting. He snorts when he scans one of them—you even wrote down your professor’s shitty jokes. “These aren’t notes, sweetheart, they’re transcripts.”

You shrug. “I’m a thorough notetaker, I guess. If you don’t have any work of your own then…maybe you could read my paper and give feedback on it?” 

“Yeah, whatever, hit me. But when I’m done we’re going for a quick lap downstairs to get you lunch.” 

“I’m not hun—“

“I don’t care,” Chan interrupts, holding his hand out for your paper. He picks up one of your pens, a fun purple-colored one. “I give you feedback and then we’re grabbing lunch. Deal?” 

“Deal.” You smile when Chan shakes his head and makes you pinky promise him, complete with the thumb stamping gesture. 

You wrap up what you’re working on quickly and let yourself just look at Chan as he reads your essay. His brows are furrowed cutely in concentration and he holds the pen cap between his teeth, drawing your attention, for a fleeting moment, to his mouth.

Every few seconds, he underlines something or writes a comment in the margins. You peer over his shoulder, curious, but he must feel your gaze, because he reaches one arm out to push you back fully into your seat. 

“No,” he says simply, too engrossed in your paper to savor the way your entire body stills at his command. “You can make my edits after lunch,” he explains, eyes still on the paper. 

“If they’re even good enough to take under consideration,” you huff.

Chan laughs, unbothered. “That attitude is how I know you definitely need fresh air and food after this.” 

He reads a little more before sighing. “Geez, this sentence…” You try to snatch your paper back but he keeps it out of your reach easily, smirking. 

After a few more tries, you give up, lightly hitting his shoulder. “You’re mean,” you pout, a little breathless from the exertion. 

“The kind of mean you like,” he teases, nodding back towards your chair. He flips to the last page to review your footnotes and you take the opportunity to mutter another grievance while he's still laughing. You only push your luck like this when he's clearly entertained by it; any snark you have dies the instant his smile falls.

⊹

You’re not a confrontational person. You never have been. Your dynamic with Chan, as much as you’d resist the label, is rooted in flirtation. It’s not real confrontation. 

You don’t handle it well. When Seungcheol confronted you about your conduct, you iced him out. 

So this is really something, Chan thinks, as he watches you from across the dining hall, voice raised, hands flying in exasperation. 

“I’m not dating him!” You say for what feels like the hundredth time. 

Chan doesn’t hear all of it, but as he approaches you and Melody, he hears your final words before he intervenes: “And even if Chan was dating someone, he’d pick me over you.” 

“Would I?” He asks, stopping right behind you, hands on your shoulders. 

The words make you pale while Melody straightens up, looking triumphant. “Obviously not,” she sneers, flipping her hair dramatically. “Tell her, Channie.”

You need to turn around, to read his expression, but you can't. Panic slices through you. Even his voice is too calm, too unreadable...you can't tell if he's amused or displeased.

Chan’s grip tightens on your shoulders and you squeeze your eyes shut. How did you get here? He’s going to mortify you in front of the entire dining hall, in front of all Melody’s stupid sorority sisters and the student athletes that just got out from practice. He’s going to laugh in your face in front of everyone, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

“I’d pick you over her, Y/N?” He repeats, an indulgent grin looming over you that you can’t see. 

You shake your head, willing yourself to please not cry. “I just…I thought…”

“You thought what?” When you stay silent, he spins you around, forcing you to look up at him. He raises an eyebrow and you shiver, shaking your head. 

“Come on, Y/N. Continue. Just pretend I’m not here.”

Melody scoffs, unsatisfied with Chan’s refusal to defend her even if she thinks he’s prolonging this to humiliate you. The sound grabs Chan’s attention, and he lets go of you to step up to Melody. 

“And you,” he says, keeping the smile off his face when Melody's haughty expression falls. She knows what that look from him means, and it’s nothing good. “You think I’d date you, Melody? Be serious.”

You keep your eyes on the floor as Chan continues past her stammering.

He says something to her, too quiet for you to hear, and then, just as quickly as it started, everyone’s dispersing. You didn’t even notice Changbin and Seungmin standing around, waiting to shepherd people away. They do it efficiently, and you barely catch a last look at Melody before she storms off. When you bend down to get your backpack, it’s not there—Chan’s got it slung over his shoulder already.

“I have, um, class,” you say lamely. 

“No, you don’t,” he says, not looking at you as he walks away too. “Come on, let’s eat.”

He steers you into a booth in the back of the dining hall. “I didn’t make you answer in front of everyone, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving you a free pass.”

You pause mid-bite, your eyes betraying your shock. Chan laughs, placing some more food in your bowl, before schooling his expression to look serious again. “You have five minutes, tops, until the rest of the guys get their food and join us. I don’t mind if you want to say it in front of them—”

“No!” You say, nearly choking. “I think…I thought, that maybe…”

“Maybe what? Use your words.”

“Maybe you liked me back,” you squeal quickly, almost incoherently, right as Han sits down next to you. Please don’t respond, you think. Not in front of Han. Please.

“Hey—” Han’s greeting is cut off by Chan, his eyes boring into yours: “You think maybe I liked you back?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel your cheeks heat and you jump to your feet. “I need to go. I…bye, Hannie.” 

Han waves, his mouth full, as he looks between Chan and your quickly retreating figure. “What’d I miss?”

“More like ruined,” Chan groans, stuffing one last bite into his mouth before standing up, your backpack in his hand. “Tell you later.”

⊹

Chan moves out of sight of the doorway when he sees you and Seungcheol in the stu gov office. He clutches your backpack strap tighter. 

“Can I tell you something, Cheolie?”

Chan’s jaw tightens and he strains to listen—Seungcheol must nod, because all of the sudden, you’re confessing. You’re fucking confessing, telling him you started liking him last year, and that—

Chan leaves immediately, his ears ringing from anger. You finally told him. You mustered up the courage and told a different guy that you liked him. He almost goes back to dump your backpack off, but instead just leaves it in the stairwell. He might break something if he has to go back and hear you preen about fucking Seungcheol. 

You swallow hard, waiting for Seungcheol to respond. At first, his expression remains unreadable, and then it gives way to a smile. 

“I knew you had a little crush on me, Y/N,” he confirms. “It was cute. Harmless, so I didn’t touch it. But I’m glad you like Chan,” he grins. “I don’t love the guy, but you two seem good together.”

“I was wondering if you had an extra of those Stu Gov keychains we made last year?” You blush. “I want to make him a little care package for when he wins. And, um, pick your brain about how to...how to get him to like me back?”

⊹

You frown at your phone, waiting for Chan to respond. Your congratulations text wasn’t just obligatory—after everything you’ve been through together, you’re genuinely happy for and proud of him. He doesn’t respond though, leaving you on read, but you don’t think too much of it. 

That night, you hesitate at the door of the student government office. It’s packed. Chan’s election party. You take a deep breath, willing your social anxiety away, and push open the door, slipping in just in time to hear the tail end of Chan’s brief but eloquent victory speech. Han sees you and saves you from lingering awkwardly by yourself, pulling you to sit in between him and Minho. 

When the speech concludes, you stay on the couch, watching Chan as he chats with the rest of the student government officers, including the new senate chair and Rei, his runner-up-turned-elections-commissioner. It’s almost presidential, you think, smiling when he finally makes his way to you. 

“Congratulations, Channie!” You beam, jumping up to hug him. He doesn’t really hug you back, just letting you hang off him a little bit. When you let him go to question it, his eyes are on his friends.

“Crazy to see you guys in the student government office,” he chuckles, still ignoring your presence. You bristle a little at his tone. It sounds a little mocking, but maybe you’re just reading too much into it. 

Minho snickers, his eyes finding yours briefly before shifting his attention back onto his friends. “Crazy you’re the head of the student government now.”

“Resume padding, you know?” 

You tense up when you hear Chan’s bored voice, and this time he does make eye contact with you, smiling before beckoning all of his friends out so they can do whatever their original Friday night plans entailed. “Oh and Y/N?” He adds when he’s already halfway to the door. “Clean and then lock up when everyone’s done celebrating.” And then he’s gone. 

⊹

“Man, what are you doing?” Felix half-groans as he watches Chan thumb through student government applications in the middle of their frat party. 

Chan ignores him, sorting resumes into piles. No one seems good enough to replace you, but he’s going to find someone to take up your role anyways. 

“You want me to offer myself up as a rebound for her?”

Felix sighs, pointing out that Chan knows that’s not what he meant, but it doesn’t matter. Chan smirks as he sees the last application in the pile. Melody. Perfect. 

⊹

I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.

You keep repeating the words to yourself as you clean up the aftermath of the party. The problem with keeping your post during regime changes is that no one’s your friend, not really. Seungcheol left in the first half hour. You thought Hoshi or Mingyu might make an appearance, but that didn’t happen. So you’re left alone, feeling overwhelmed as you sort empty soda cans and pizza boxes. 

Later that night, once you've made it back to your apartment, you get an email from Chan. You don't know what you're expecting but you open it quickly.

Y/N— Writing to let you know I’ve decided someone else is better suited to be my Comms Director. You’re of course welcome to run or apply for any other open positions. Chan

You blink twice and then three times, staring at the email in disbelief. Was he only nice to you so you’d help him with his campaign? The cursor next to his name blinks, waiting for you to process this.

That’s the only option, with him discarding you the second he won. 

Your throat goes impossibly dry and you read the email over again. And again. 

And then:

Sorry for the double email, forgot to mention: it’d be helpful if you want to pass along your notes and maybe a transition doc to the next Comms Director, Melody Hong. Chan

You don’t think twice before texting him.

⊹

Is it cruel for Chan to get to the student government office bright and early the next morning so he can supervise you clearing out your stuff? Maybe. 

You don’t say hi when you walk in, instead keeping your head down and going straight to your desk. You’re thankful it’s a small space and so there’s not too much to pack up, but you know it’ll still take at least ten minutes, and that’s ten minutes more than you’d like to spend in Chan’s presence. 

“No good morning?” He taunts. “When can we expect that transition document?”

You take a shaky breath, trying not to get angry. You’ve never been able to argue without crying, and you’re definitely never giving Chan the satisfaction of seeing you cry ever again. 

“I’ll send it to you end of week,” you say, pleasantly surprised at how steady your voice sounds. Chan nods, falling silent as he watches you pack. Most of the color in the office came from your little tchotchkes and decor, and when you’re done, it’s primarily gray that’s left over. He almost stops you when you grab his mug. Your mug, really, but you let him use it countless times for midnight hot chocolates and early morning coffees. His chest hurts when he looks up from the mug to see you, on the verge of tears, staring back at him. 

He clears his throat. “So, um…”

Not as eloquent as he usually is. 

“Bye, Chan,” you say numbly, not waiting for him to respond as you walk out of the office. You dump the entire box into the trash can right outside the door, flinching when you hear ceramic breaking. 

Chan, Chan thinks resentfully. It’s his name, but he’s gotten so used to hearing your soft, sweet Channies or adorably respectful Channie oppas that Chan just sounds wrong coming from you. 

He waits for five minutes, plenty of time for you to leave, before shuffling out into the hallway and checking the trash to confirm what he thought he heard. He’s a little grateful that the janitor empties out the trash every morning, so other than the contents of your desk, the trash is devoid of anything. Overwhelmingly, though, he’s sad, swallowing hard as he fishes out your mug. His mug. 

It’s only broken into two pieces, so Hyunjin should be able to patch it up for him easily. 

When he sees a photo of you and Seungcheol amongst your things, he feels a little better. At least you won’t be with him, no matter how you feel about it. He should thank Cheol at some point. 

⊹

“Y/N wasn’t in class today,” Changbin says as he kicks his shoes off in the mud room before entering the frat house. “The professor asked about it. Said she didn’t tell him in advance and no one’s heard from her in a couple of days.”

Chan’s chest pain gets worse. 

He’s now more than ever concerned that he did the wrong thing. He could’ve been nice to you while still refusing to be your rebound for Seungcheol. Hell, you probably weren’t even the rebound type. It just pissed him off so much how you looked at Cheol with those reverent eyes, oozing devotion and worship from your every pore. 

“She’s probably fine, just sulking,” Chan pipes up, his eyes staying locked on his laptop so as not to have to look at any of his friends. 

“Why’d you kick her out again?” Seungmin asks, plopping down on the couch next to Chan. “Thought you were just starting to like her.”

⊹

“You went over my fucking head?”

You flinch when Chan storms into your apartment and can barely open your mouth to retaliate when he speaks again: “We’ll have a conversation later about you leaving your door unlocked for any psycho to just barge in here.” 

“What do you care?”

It’s instinctive and immature and resentful, but you say it anyways, moving around your studio like his presence doesn't bother you. Your feigned nonchalance clearly bothers him though—he stomps over to your desk and slams your laptop shut. His eyes, almost black with anger, find yours. 

“How many fucking times,” he starts, his hand reaching out for your throat, immediately causing your head to swim. “Do I have to tell you to lock that damn door?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond now either, slamming you against the wall. 

Your hands fly to your neck when he tightens his grip, but you don’t make contact. They just hover there as you stare at him. You hope to god he can’t see how your knees are weakening and how your lips part automatically. You hope when he sees your eyes close slowly, he thinks it’s out of misery and not bliss. 

There’s definitely something wrong with you, you think, as you revel in how good his fingers feel around your throat. 

“Sorry,” you eventually manage to croak out, and it’s the wrong thing to say judging by the look on Chan’s face. 

“You’re not fucking sorry.” He lets you go briefly, looking at you thoughtfully as you stay pressed up against the wall even without his hold. “Did you like that, Y/N?” He taunts, his thumb rubbing over your pulse point, gentle now. 

You shake your head, too flustered to form words, and he laughs. “You did, didn’t you? You liked me choking you? You’ll let me decide when you get to breathe but not who gets to be my Comms Director?” 

“I didn’t let you do any—”

“Tell me to get out now,” he demands, voice low, eyes on your lips. “Say it now, or so help me...” 

You bite your lip and the last of the reins on Chan’s control snaps. He brings you closer to him, manhandling you easily, fingers digging into your waist as he ghosts his lips over yours. It’s a chaste almost-kiss, and when you surge forward to try to chase it, he pins you back against the wall and kisses you for real, all anger and frustration and weeks of maybe-flirting, maybe-friendship reaching its tipping point. 

“Where do I start with you, Y/N?” He all but growls, pulling away just a little to watch you pant. “Helping Rei, leading me on, leaving your fucking door unlocked for anyone to come in here—”

Your mind swims, too breathless to latch onto any of his words. He jerks his head towards your bed and you stumble towards it, on autopilot.

⊹

“Why are you still here?” You question as soon as you come to, your eyes slowly fluttering open. Your head is on Chan’s chest and his fingers are combing through your hair. It’s so nice to be touched like this by him, and you savor it for another two minutes before you fully wake up and twist out of his grip to crawl across the bed, away from him. 

“Was worried about you,” he says quietly, dropping the hand that was petting you before. “Was pretty rough on you.”

You scoff, getting up and wrapping yourself in the nearest hoodie. It’s his, you think disappointedly, but it’s already on and you don’t want to have to sheepishly take it off to search for one of yours. 

“Great, thanks. You can go now.”

He can definitely hear the poorly veiled resentment in your voice. You’re waiting for him to call you out on your immaturity or to start an argument about the way you secured your student government position. You’re not prepared for what he actually says. 

“Are you over Seungcheol?”

You freeze, at a loss for words. Are you over Seungcheol? 

“Yeah.” You turn away from him so you don’t have to look him in the eyes. “I started liking someone else, but turns out he was a jerk who couldn’t even respond to my congratulations text, so I’m over him too.”

Your chest hurts when you say it and you dig your fingernails into your palms. Please don’t cry. Please, please, please... 

“Y/N…”

“Please get out.” Your voice is small and unsure. Chan doesn’t move. As you steel yourself to ask him to leave again, you feel his arms around your waist, wrapping around you and pulling you into him. You start crying, trying to hide it with sniffles that only make it more obvious. 

“I was so worried you still liked Seungcheol,” Chan whispers, kissing the back of your head. “I felt betrayed, Y/N. Like everything we worked towards together meant nothing, because at the end of the day, I was falling for you and you still only had eyes for Seungcheol.”

You shake your head in disagreement, but Chan shushes you, his voice soft and sweet.

“I know, baby, I was so wrong, wasn’t I?”

You nod at that and he lets you turn around to face him. You were going to pout up at him anyways, but his fingers continue to rest underneath your chin, keeping your gaze up. “Yes,” you whimper, wiping away some of your tears. “You were so mean.”

“I know, I know,” Chan murmurs, pulling you into his chest. You cry into his shirt, too emotional to feel self conscious about the way your tears soak through the fabric. “Not the kind of mean you like though, right?”

You look up at him and nod, and when he gazes back expectantly, you feel your cheeks flush. “Not the kind of mean we both like,” you correct. He presses a kiss to your forehead this time, before gently guiding you back to bury your head in his chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby.”

⊹

EPILOGUE:

“Higher, I think,” you say, standing back and supervising as Chan lifts the cork board higher up against the wall. A smile pulls at his lips as he executes, knowing you’ll need to call for him anytime you want to switch up the top of the bulletin. “You’re not slick, sweetheart.” 

You stick your tongue out at him and turn to the rest of the boxes cluttering up the newly emptied student government office, slowly unpacking everything. 

Chan finishes nailing it to the wall and then turns around to face you, expression morphing from playful to serious. “You have an 8 AM class tomorrow, don’t you? I’ll walk you back to your apartment.” 

Before you can assure him it’s fine, he’s tilting your chin up in that way that makes all the thoughts in your head momentarily go quiet. “You did a good job today, baby. We can decorate the rest of the office tomorrow, after your class. Yes?”

“Yes,” you echo, blinking when he laughs at your quick acquiescence. 

you had met him through shared music production classes back when you were all just trying to survive your first year. the first proper meeting between you all had happened while you and jeongin were drowning in a final project; chan had simply dropped by with coffee and some words of encouragement. you learned quickly that that was just how chan was — kind, caring and the literal definition of a gentleman.

he had kept that reputation up for years, whether he was picking you up from the library when you were too tired to walk or showing up at your door with food when you were drowning in assignments, detached from the world. before you knew it, he had nestled into a permanent, sweet corner of your heart. your crush on him kept growing but you reminded yourself that it's just chan — being kind and caring and him.

you controlled yourself, or rather, you feigned whatever remnants of control were left in your body. you feigned it so well that apparently jeongin knew, but the man in question remained oblivious. it was easy to hide because you believed that was just chan — the hardworking soul who cared for his two best friends with the same steady, protective warmth.

so all was good. you continued with the act.

because that’s what it was — an act. for years, you had lied, playing the part of the perfect friend, pretending his presence didn't make your pulse skip.

and that lie was currently biting you in the ass.

you were calm.

obviously.

most definitely.

it wasn't like the visuals were currently playing tug-of-war with your heartbeat.

it was your typical movie night, hosted at chan and jeongin’s place. jeongin had asked you to come early to help with snacks since chan was out at the gym. you had arrived with bags of groceries, helping him prep while he chattered away about the horror movie he had picked. while he handled the popcorn, you filled the bowls with crisps. while he stepped away for a call, you placed the bowls on the table and settled on the sofa, mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

then, the door swung open.

chan entered, his body covered in a slight sheen of sweat, gym bag slung over his shoulder. clad in a black chrome hearts hoodie, he looked so devastatingly hot it had your mouth drying, your eyes straying to the sliver of skin visible at his chest and neck.

"hey, sorry i'm late to my own hosting duties," chan spoke, locking the door behind him. his voice was a bit deeper than usual, roughened by his workout, and it sent a localized shiver straight down your spine. "missed my session this morning so i had to squeeze it in now. you been waiting long ?"

"ah, don't worry about it — besides, innie is way more fun to be around anyways." you managed to joke, your voice only slightly higher than usual as you tried to hide your flustered state behind a playful jab.

chan just chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that felt far too intimate for the living room. "is that so ? i'll remember that next time you need a coffee run."

just then, jeongin appeared from the kitchen and plopped down on the floor right in front of you, leaning his back against the sofa near your knees. he was already rambling about the jump-scares in the movie. you reached out instinctively, ruffling his hair as he talked; he was essentially the younger brother you had never had. there was a comfortable, protective warmth between you two — a bond so effortless that he felt like home. he was the only one who could get away with forcing you to watch a horror movie you were terrified of just by giving you those puppy eyes.

"don't listen to him," jeongin chirped, looking up at you with a grin. "i'll protect you from the ghosts. chan hyung is the one who's going to be screaming."

"in your dreams, kid," chan muttered, heading toward the bathroom.

a few minutes later, you caught a waft of fresh, musk-scented shampoo. before the scent could even reach your lungs, a freshly showered chan sat on the couch right beside you. his fingers carded through his wet ash-blonde hair, the hue shining as if it existed only to be his hair colour. once you moved past that, you froze.

you sat there, way too still for a living, breathing human body.

chan was sitting beside you, clad in a black tank top that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

the fabric barely contained the gym results he had been hiding under heavy hoodies for months. his arms were thick, the skin pulled tight over hard muscle, and every time he moved, his pecs flexed against the thin material of the tank. when he leaned forward to grab his drink, the sight of his back muscles shifting and roping beneath the black fabric was enough to make your brain short-circuit. even his thighs, thick and straining against the hem of his shorts as he settled into the cushions, seemed to take up more space than they used to.

the couch felt smaller. the air felt thinner.

when did he get so big ? his arms, his shoulders, his back — the thought looped in your head, a frantic, rhythmic mantra while you stared at the tv without seeing a single thing.

you could feel the heat radiating off him, a steady pulse of warmth that made your own skin feel too tight. every time he shifted, the scent of his soap mixed with the lingering warmth of his skin hit you, sending your internal monologue spiraling into territory that definitely wasn't 'just friends'. you were so focused on the sheer physical gravity of him that you missed the way his eyes lingered on the side of your face — his expression unreadable, heavy, and far too focused.

"you okay ?" he murmured, the low vibration of his voice closer to your ear than you were prepared for. "you're awfully quiet tonight."

"​oh y-yea, it's n-nothing," you mumbled, mentally screaming at yourself for tripping over such simple words. you forced your eyes back to the screen, staring at the flickering shadows with a focus that was borderline painful.

​but just as your heartbeat started to settle into a manageable rhythm, the movie decided it was finished being subtle. a sudden, bone-chilling screech echoed through the speakers, paired with a visual so jarring that your body reacted before your brain could catch up.

​you flinched violently, your entire frame jolting sideways as you sought out the nearest solid thing to anchor you. your hands scrambled, fingers digging instinctively into the nearest source of heat — chan’s bicep.

​you didn't just touch him — you clung to him, your face pressing into the crook of his shoulder as you tried to hide from the screen. his arm was hot beneath your touch, so much wider and stronger than you had imagined when you were just looking at it. the sheer density of his muscle under the thin cotton of the tank top made your breath hitch for an entirely different reason than the ghost on screen.

​"shit," you breathed out against his skin, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. "i hate this. i seriously hate you both for making me do this."

​jeongin let out a delighted cackle from his spot on the floor, not even looking back as he reached for a handful of popcorn. "don't pass out before the second act !"

​chan didn't laugh. if anything, he seemed to go incredibly still. for a second, you worried you had overstepped, that the 'act' was finally broken. you started to pull back, your fingers beginning to loosen their desperate grip on his arm, but before you could retreat, his hand came up.

​his large palm covered your own, his fingers curling over yours to lock your hand firmly against his bicep. he didn't let you pull away. instead, he shifted his weight, leaning into you until you were tucked securely against his side, practically swallowed by his bulk. the movement caused his tank top to strain even further, the fabric groaning against the width of his chest.

​"it's okay," chan murmured, his voice dropping into a register so low it felt like a physical vibration against your temple. "i've got you. you don't have to let go."

​i don't have to let go — the thought was a dizzying loop in your mind. you could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the scent of his shampoo and warm skin wrapping around you like a cocoon. you felt so small next to him, so fragile, and the way he was looking down at you — gaze heavy and dark — made a tiny, involuntary whimper climb up your throat.

​it was a pathetic, needy little sound, and you tried really hard to swallow it, but it was too late.

chan heard it.

​he leaned in just an inch closer, his lips nearly brushing the shell of your ear as the movie’s soundtrack swelled to a roar, masking his words from jeongin.

​"that's it, such a good girl, staying so still for me," he whispered, the praise hitting you like a physical weight. "just keep holding on, sweetheart. you're doing so well."

oh. fuck.

did he just — ? did he just call you, a good girl ?

​your grip tightened on his arm, your knuckles turning white as you felt your act crumbling. the horror movie was still playing, but the only thing you could actually feel was the heat of chan’s body and the way his voice was slowly, deliberately dismantling every bit of control you had left.

the air in the room shifted, turning thick and heavy as the movie’s score reached a frantic, screeching crescendo. jeongin was still glued to the screen, completely oblivious to the silent collapse of your composure just inches away.

every time your heart tried to find its rhythm, chan’s thumb would brush slowly, deliberately, over the back of your hand — a rhythmic, possessive movement that kept you pinned to his side. you were leaning into him so heavily now that you could feel the individual ribs of his tank top pressing against your cheek, the heat of his skin radiating through the thin fabric like a fever.

suddenly, he dropped his hand from your shoulder to your waist, fingers grazing the skin where your shirt had lifted. despite much controlling, another whimper escaped you, a tiny, broken sound that was lost to everyone but him.

"you’re so sensitive, aren't you?" chan’s voice vibrated against the shell of your ear. "making those needy little noises just because i'm holding you."

jesus fucking christ —

"stop — please stop" your mind pleaded, but your body was betraying you, arching almost imperceptibly toward the source of the praise. your internal monologue was a chaotic mess of two years of pining finally crashing into the reality of his massive, solid frame.

you felt small. you felt seen. and for the first time, you felt like he was done pretending.

he leaned in, his nose brushing against your temple as he inhaled the scent of your hair.

"i think the movie is getting to be too much for you," he murmured, though his eyes weren't on the screen. "how about we go to my room ? i'll help you calm down."

the promise — the promise of help was what finally made you stop pretending. you couldn't even find your voice to answer. you just nodded — a jerky, frantic movement that had his lips curling into a shadow of a smirk.

chan stood up, his massive frame towering over you for a second before he reached down, his hand wrapping around yours and pulling you upward. the sheer strength in his grip was effortless, reminding you of his strength that had been distracting you all night.

"innie, we're gonna head in. she's a bit too spooked," chan called out, his voice perfectly casual, slipping back into that normal tone so easily it made your head spin.

jeongin didn't even look up from the screen, waving a dismissive hand. "yeah, yeah. go protect your person, hyung. don't let the ghosts get 'em."

the moment the bedroom door clicked shut behind you. the silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own jagged breathing. chan didn't move toward the bed. instead, he turned, his bulk immediately crowding you back against the solid wood of the door.

he didn't touch you yet, but he didn't have to. he just stood there, his shoulders blocking out the light, the black tank top clinging to his chest as it rose and fell with a sudden, heavy intensity.

"now," he whispered, his voice dropping into that commanding register that made your knees go weak. "tell me why you were making those sounds on the couch ? why did those pretty whimpers escape your throat, baby ?

your mouth went dry, mind reeling as the words fell into your ears — he found your whimper pretty ? and the nickname — good god.

you looked up at him, the height difference feeling more pronounced than ever in the quiet of his room.

"i... i don't know," you breathed, another sound escaping as he stepped even closer, his thick thighs brushing against yours.

"liar," he coaxed, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb dragging across your lower lip. "you were being such a good girl out there, acting so sweet for me. do you want to keep being good ?"

your soul agreed before you could.

"b-big — y-you're so b-big, channie" you whispered, throat bobbing as you waited for his reaction with bated breath.

chan chuckled as his fingers slid back to tangle in your hair, tilting your head back until you had no choice but to take all of him in.

"is that what's distracting you, sweetheart ?" he murmured, stepping even deeper into your space until you were pinned flat against the door.

up close, the sheer scale of him was terrifying in the best way possible. his chest was a broad wall of solid muscle, the thin fabric of his tank top damp and clinging to every ridge of his torso.

"i've been working so hard for you," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave, becoming that chesty, gravelly tone that made your knees buckle. "waiting for the day you’d finally stop pretending and just tell me how much you liked it."

he worked out for you ?

the realisation hit you with a force, making your knees buckle.

his free hand came down, his large palm splaying over your stomach, his fingers spanning nearly the entire width of your waist. he pressed in just enough to make you gasp, his thumb grazing the bottom of your ribs.

"made my shoulders broad for you to lay on, made my biceps bigger for you to hold, made myself stronger so i can — " he continued, his voice trailing off into a low, dark growl as he pressed his hips firmly into yours.

​the sentence didn't need to be finished. you could feel exactly what he meant as his eyes darkened, tracking the way your breath hitched the moment you felt the hard length of him through his shorts, pressing firmly against your thighs.

​you could only let out a broken, high-pitched whimper, your hands coming up to rest uselessly against his massive biceps. they felt like iron beneath your palms, so thick that your fingers couldn't even dream of meeting on the other side. the realization of just how much bigger he was than you sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

"channie, p-please — " you whispered, arching into him as you moved your hands to his chest, slightly digging in order to ground yourself.

the friction of your palms against his chest only made him growl, a low sound that vibrated through your own ribcage. he couldn't wait for you to finish your plea. with a single, effortless motion, he hooked his hands under your thighs and hiked you up, your back hitting the door with a soft thud as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

the sheer bulk of him was even more overwhelming now that you were flush against him. just then he pressed his lips against yours, groaning as you moaned into the kiss. a shiver ran down your spine as chan sucked on your lower lip, swallowing your tiny gasps. a slight nip on your lips had you moaning his name and all his restraints snapped.

chan laid you on the bed, the mattress divotting deeply under his weight as he crawled over you, caging you in with those massive shoulders. as the last of your clothes were discarded, the reality of him hit you like a physical blow.

god, he was big everywhere. your eyes blown wide, you tracked the lines of his body — the roped muscle of his thighs, the sheer width of his chest, and then, the sight of him fully hardened and twitching against his stomach. he was thick, heavy, and looked utterly impossible.

chan didn't give you time to overthink it. he was over you in a second, his large hand sliding down to find you already sopping wet, your body betraying how long you had craved this. he pushed two thick fingers inside you, stretching you open as he watched your face go slack, eyes rolling back.

"fuck, you’re so wet for me, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice a gravelly vibration. "did you get like this just thinking about me ? thinking about how much of me you could take ? fuck, you're so ready."

you arched off the bed, your fingers digging into the iron-hard muscle of his biceps. "please, c-chan — put it in. oh fuck — please, i need it so bad."

"you want it?" he growled, "show me how much you want it. tell me, princess."

"want you so fucking bad, i'm aching — please, channie — " you whimpered, spreading your legs wider giving him a perfect view of your sopping cunt stuffed full of his fingers. that was all the invitation he needed.

he repositioned himself, the broad head of his length probing at your entrance. he moved slowly, testing the tension, but as your own juices acted as a slick invitation, he could'nt help but slide in one heavy thrust.

the friction was staggering. you felt your breath leave your body in a silent scream as he slid in all at once, his sheer girth stretching you to the absolute limit. he didn't stop until his pelvis crashed against yours, buried to the hilt.

"oh god — fuuuuuuuck," he groaned, his forehead dropping against yours as he took a ragged breath. "you're so tight — nghhhh, you're wrapping around me like you were fucking made for me. such a good girl, taking all of me so perfectly. fuck — you feel heavenly, baby."

it felt like he was everywhere. the sensation was so deep it was visceral — you could swear you felt him pressing against your very ribs, filling the entirety of your core until there was no room left for air — breathing nothing but him. as you looked down, a visible, terrifyingly hot bulge appeared in the soft skin of your lower stomach, marking exactly where he was stretched inside you.

"look at that," he whispered, his eyes following yours to where his size was distorting your form, his thumb stroking your hip. "look at what you're holding for me. it's right in your tummy, isn't it ?

he didn't wait for a response before he started snapping his hips, his pace sudden and much fucking needed. every thrust was a heavy, wet thud, his balls slapping against you as he drove himself into you with the strength he’d spent years building.

"fuck — yea yea yea — just like that," you sobbed out, your head tossing back as he hit your sweet spot. "nghhhh, channie, right there — oh god, fuck !"

"yeah ? you like that ?" he growled, his hands sliding under your hips to tilt you up, making the penetration even deeper, even more ruinous. "fuck, you're taking every inch beautifully. you were always mine, hm ? you just had to be brave enough to let me in. so brave for me, sweetheart. good fucking girl — fuck, you're so tight."

you were a mess of whimpers and shattered breaths, your body shaking under the weight of his broad shoulders and the relentless stretch of him. the sound of wet friction and his heavy grunts filled the room, a filthy symphony of the three years of pining finally exploding.

"that’s it, give it all to me," he choked out, his voice breaking as he felt you begin to climax. "fuckfuckfuck — stay right there. let me fill you up until you can't feel anything but me. you did so well for me, sweetheart. oh god, fuck —"

he delivered one final, soul-crushing thrust, burying himself as deep as possible as he spilled into you as you both unravelled simultaneously. wrapped in his arms, swallowed by his bulk, you finally understood. the gentleman was gone, but the man who remained was exactly what you had always needed to be whole.

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