Erine's Library

Immediately, Satoru went stiff. He tried to remember how he could’ve fucked up. It wasn’t your birthday, or your anniversary, and he’d already replaced the slice of strawberry shortcake he’d stolen from your minifridge that morning. Whatever this was, it wasn’t his fault. Probably. Hopefully.

He pulled you against his side, squeezing your upper arm as gently as he could. “Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?”

Another keening whine. You cried louder.

“If someone said something mean to you, I can kick their—”

“Nobody said anything,” you cut in. Satoru flinched.

“Oh.” He blinked several times. “Which is… bad?”

“Yes, ‘toru. Really bad. No one had anything to say about my piece. It was dead silent the whole time. Dead silent.”

“Did they not like it or…?”

“I don’t know! Even if they hated it, they could’ve told me what was wrong, but they— they didn’t even—”

You broke off into a loud, ear-piercing wail. Okay. He got it. No more questions. Time for comfort.

“They’re all idiots, honey. They probably didn’t even realize it was about… What’d you say it was about, again?”

“The shortfalls of logical positivism,” you whimpered.

“Right. That. They probably don’t even know what logical positivism means.” Satoru wasn’t entirely sure if he knew what it meant, either, but he opted to keep that to himself. “Why don’t we get you off of campus for a while? I can take you to that ice cream place, the one with the—”

“No!” You shoved him away, falling onto the opposite arm of the sofa and burying your head in your arms. “I don’t want ice cream, I want critique.”

His heart soared. “I can look at your piece, if you want.”

You shook your head violently. His heart plummeted, crashed into the ground, and died in a fiery explosion.

“I don’t want you.” And there you were, the person he loved most in the world, dancing on its ashes. “You— You’re uncultured.”

“That’s not true! I’ve got tons of culture.”

“You still draw dicks all over your notes.”

“Just in the margins, and I—”

“Your favorite movie is Twilight!”

“It’s a classic,” he muttered, more than a little hurt.

“It’s derivative,” you sobbed, burying yourself that much deeper into your self-made huddle.

He sighed. “Do you want me to ask Suguru to take a look at it? I’ll snag Nanami after class, too — they’re both into artsy shit, right?”

You sniffled, nodding weakly. “And Sukuna.”

“Sukuna?”

“His minor’s in art-history. I like listening to him talk about surrealism.”

He pursed his lips. He thought about refusing - saving himself months and months of ‘you owe me one’s from the meanest guy on campus - but one more heart-breaking, half-swallowed cry from you was enough for him to cave. He let out a long exhale as he shuffled towards you, draping himself over your back. “Fine. But only because I love you. You know that I love you, right?”

You flipped over, burying your face in his chest. “I do.” And then, under your breath, muffled by his sweatshirt, “Can we still get ice cream?”

It was all he could do to grin as he kissed the top of your head.

another fact, dino mentioned back on nana bnb that he didn’t want to be the kind of idol who takes things lightly just because he knows he’ll be loved anyway, that fans will support him no matter what. i think this statement was kinda loaded, and from this i could tell he’s very self-aware too. to add on, he did say that rather than his fans acting that way, he wanted to be an artist that a fan could look back on one day and think, "oh, he really was worth loving." you could tell from this perspective that he really gives off the impression that he wants to be the kind of public figure who is responsible for his actions and words.

he wanted to give back the love he received and wanted his fans to think he was worthy of that love. he doesn’t want to be an irresponsible artist who takes things for granted (yk how stan culture works). dino is one of the most passionate idols, alongside the svt members too, and that passion could also be one of his tendencies as a perfectionist. i think he’s rather harsh on himself more than anyone else because he holds himself to a very high standard in that way.

now, when things like this happen, i’m worried because he did say that he’s traumatised by being judged, which led him to fear people because they only see one side of him (in the soop, 2021). even outside of svt, you can tell he’s a very easygoing person, and from his recent appearance on bonjour bakery, he seems like a quiet guy who thinks a lot. not to mention that one mbti gose episode where they invited a specialist to analyse their personalities, and him saying that dino is a generous person and that generosity could also be one of the factors that could lead him to depression, which made all the members worried about him. i think from this, he kind of has the tendency to be a people pleaser (this is just my assumption and observation, pls don’t attack me lol).

that really shows that dino is very sincere in his profession as an artist, alongside seventeen too. that’s the thing about sebongs, even off camera they’re very well-liked by the staff, production crews, and even the whole industry. they take so much pride in their work and always work hard while carrying humility with them, never forgetting where they started until now. seventeen are great entertainers, very hardworking, and give a lot of impact to the community and society, even children know them! and this is just my excuse to say that i really love their work ethic. even off camera, they seem like really, really genuine people irl too.

dino is a great artist. i really do admire him because he’s such an introspective person, and all his talks feel so human and relatable because it just shows how transparent he is with the way he thinks and talks. i believe his upcoming debut will be great because imagine it all started as an inside joke, then turned into a real thing. it was so unexpected but also something really, really intriguing. he’s been in the industry for almost eleven years, so i’m convinced he knows what he’s cooking and preparing more than anyone else. as a fan, i’m just going to wait and support whatever he prepares next. i believe he could make it successfully, just look at bss now.

Your early days with your gang were rocky to say the least. Not just because of your bending, but your personality as well. To be clear, you had the best relationship with everyone! They adapted to your stubbornness, but that wasn't just what you had going for you; you were confident and always stood your ground. The only time you "crumbled" was when Zuko finally joined. At first, you didn't like him, no one really did honestly.

But when he finally proved his worth and showed kindness in his own ways, that's when it started. That's when your eyes always lingered towards him, even when you didn't want them to. Why? because you never ever wanted him to notice whatever feelings you had for him. For some reason, within the group, he was the one person who hung out with you the least.

You were closer in age to Katara, so being the only other female in the group with similarities is what made your bond so strong. Being the same bender as Toph, not to mention a slight similarity in personality, you both stood strong together. Sokka, well its Sokka.. But with his very charming personality, in his own way, he always placed a smile on your face. Aang, is Aang! Everyone always got along with him because of his carefree personality.

And Zuko? Well, he, for some reason, always avoided you. It wasn't like you did anything to him. You thought maybe because he noticed how different you acted with him, maybe your soft side took a toll on him, even though you barely showed it to him. You just wanted reasons to use to explain why he never looked in your direction.

You were never a jealous person, either. As time passed, he grew closer to the others, and you stood in the awkward light. The one time he went out with Katara, you knew it was important for both of them, not only to build their relationship but to learn about each other's pasts, but for the first time, you felt a weird feeling in your chest. You didn't hold any negative feelings for either of them, and to be honest, when they came back, you ran straight to Katara, a smile on your face as she mirrored it.

And as you turned to Zuko, he briefly looked at you before turning to Katara, then the others as they came up. Your smile then dropped. You watched as he interacted with the others, but not with you. Later that night, you decided to confront him. You made it into his tent, obviously scaring him.

You didn't "crumble" in front of him; in fact, you stood as the big boulder blocking him from leaving his tent, all with this stern expression on your face. Your eyes pierced through his slightly troubled own, as if he was finally caught in the lights.

"Is there anything you need?" He slightly muttered, looking up at you.

You, on the other hand, didn't waste any time; in fact, you headed straight to the point.

"Do you hate me?"

"What?" He blurted out.

Your arms folded, your eyebrows creased as you didn't accept his answer.

"Answer me."

.

.

He looked around for a bit, shutting his eyes and inhaling deep before exhaling. He opened his eyes and looked at you, dead in your eyes, and finally answered.

"Yes, I do."

Your expression didn't change, you didn't "crumble," but everything inside you did. Maybe that's why you didn't catch on that he didn't look at you with anger or disgust. But what your ears heard, it heard that instead.

When Zuko stared back at you, he didn't see anything change, which he wasn't hoping for. He has his own hidden feelings he wished to not shine light on, but he felt that after this night, there will be no light or feelings anymore.

After that night, you decided to never ever speak to him, look in his direction, or do anything with him. But what if the other asked as to why?

"Because he said he didn't like me."

As the years passed by, obviously, you all grew and finally ended the war. As celebrations began, you were called into an empty room. Your eyes lingered on this person with the audacity and saw none other than Zuko himself. Your relationship with him was already beyond repair, because you'll never let him get past you. Not after blatantly telling you off without a reason. So why now? You wanted him to start it, explain what he wanted to say so that you can go back with everyone, and forget this ever happened.

But his reasoning reminded you of why you even had this crush on him. He sat you down, yet avoided eye contact. He felt soft, in a way, compared to your demeanor. A sigh left his lips as he finally let his feelings out.

He explained that he didn't hate you; he never did. In fact, it was very much the opposite. He developed small feelings for you, but your strong-headed personality scared him a bit. It didn't fear him to the point of always avoiding you; it was one of the reasons why you pulled him in. It was the fact that he knew he had something going on with another back at home. He was scared that if you found out, your anger might grow, and not only would you hate him, but something more.

The night you cornered him, he didn't know what to say, how to explain anything, and the stern look you gave him caused him to blurt out the only thought in his head.

As you listened to his story, you understood everything he said, maybe felt the need to falter a bit, because you numbed the feeling you had towards him, but didn't get rid of it. You still liked him. But he has to work for it. Like he did with everyone else.

Fortunately, as he had to repair the fire nation, he wanted your help as there were colonies from the Earth Kingdom. So you decided to help, decided to stay with him for a bit, and that was his moment to finally build what he wanted with you. When everyone left, to help everyone from the aftermath of the war, no one knew you decided to join Zuko. No one knew that you both even had that chat to begin with.

You both came to an agreement that you will stay with him for a while, helping him rebuild his nation. You both had very different views: you wanted to help him genuinely, then go back to your kingdom, and Zuko wanted to fix your relationship. But he didn't know how much workload he would receive from fixing a kingdom.

Days passed by, and the morning sun rested on your bed as you stood by the window. You were getting ready for the day until some guards knocked on the door. Your neck turned in the direction, softly allowing them to enter.

"Good morning, ma'am, the Lord is calling you for a matter he needs assistance with." They stated.

A sigh left your lips as you nodded, walking out of the room with the guards guiding you. With Zuko in charge now, the people were left with mixed reactions; some were happy, some were not, which was understandable. But you've noticed that those who mostly favor Ozai the most as their Lord were slowly crossing that barrier of respect towards Zuko.

Your heels echoed through the halls, but halted when the giant doors of his office came into view.

"You can leave now, thank you." You ordered as you pushed open the door, leaving the guards behind.

Your eyes landed on the man seated behind the table, head in hand, but perked up at the sound of the door opening. His eyes softened a bit when it landed on you, but he quickly looked away as your strong gaze held long, going through him.

"You summoned me." You stated, walking up towards the table.

"I did, here, the plan I had before, I don't know what to do. Aang and I almost fought over it." He muttered, handing over some papers.

"Is it about the colonies?" You asked, as your eyes scanned the paper in your hand.

Your ears caught the squeak of his chair as he rose to take a short walk around.

"It is, they have been here for over a hundred years, some even have families here, but there are some that are mixed with the people here. It doesn't feel right to just remove them and separate their families." He explained, his voice sounding upset and lost.

You looked up, eyes following his every movement.

"You visited one of the colonies, yes?"

"I did."

"And what did you think of it?"

He stopped walking, turning to face you.

"At first, I was surprised. But as I saw more, I thought that if I tried to rip them apart, it would create more chaos than calm."

As the words left his lips, for this one time, your eyes soften.

"And I think that's right. You should tell Aang that, and come up with a new plan." You told him, placing the papers back onto his table.

"If that's all, I shall see myself out." And with that, your heel turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

"I can see you out, actually, do you want to go.." Slowly, his words got softer, and you didn't hear the last part.

"Go where." It was meant to be a question, but your voice sounded too demanding, catching you off guard a bit.

The tone of voice caused a troubled "um" to leave his lips, but he still stood his ground.

"For a walk, we can go for a walk."

He changed his question to a statement. You would've called it a bold move if he didn't look like he was going to crumble under your presence.

You took a while to answer him, on purpose, of course, staring at him straight into his eyes, watching as he failed to maintain eye contact, but in the end, you agreed, waiting at the door for him to take the lead.

The walk was quiet; you both made it out of the palace, eyes now following your every move. You paid him a favor of starting a conversation; he's already going through so much.

"Have any plans for the colonies as yet?" You started, facing him as you both walked side by side.

"Huh? Oh. I think those who have been here for a while and have families shouldn't have to go."

"I agree."

"What about you?"

"Me what?" You asked.

"Are you going back as well?"

"Probably."

"..."

When you noticed you didn't get back a response, your eyes lingered on him for a bit before facing forward.

"I said probably, that isn't a yes or a no."

"You're right." He muttered.

His down demeanor made a small smile grow on your face. Teasing him became your new. The tension was broken by a random civilian who began to shout, pointing fingers at Zuko.

Another follower of Ozai, upset with the change Zuko's making. The nearby guards got into action, ready to take care of the man, but this was your first time witnessing it in person. You felt the need to put your word into this.

"Is there a reason why you were so moved by the previous Lord Ozai's ways? Please tell. Because from what I could tell, your little whining here clearly shows that you had little to no understanding of what would've happened if Ozai got his way. For once, people like you wouldn't have such a carefree life right now; rather, you would've been working until you dropped from exhaustion or be banished from doing something as little as watching him the wrong way. So I suggest you enjoy the sun that's beating on your back, or do you want to join him down in the dark cells?"

You knew your words had an effect on everyone around; they all looked around, mainly staring at you. But the civilian was lost for words. He wanted to bite back, but couldn't. In the end, you bid Zuko goodbye, told him to finish up the problem, and you went back.

What you didn't notice was his eyes lingering longer as you disappeared into the distance.

After that incident, you haven't really seen Zuko that much, but one thing that has changed is the looks you get either from the guards or random civilians passing by. It didn't bother you that much. What bothered you is that after Zuko cleared the colonies problems, you have yet to see or hear of him.

As of right now, you were seated by your vanity, brushing your hair for the night. It was late, and you had guards outside of your room, but they didn't bother you when you decided to go on with your plan. The thought of leaving your chambers in your nightwear didn't cross your mind; the guards had no say either when their eyes followed your every move.

You could only go so long without seeing him. As stern as you may be, you were confident in your feelings. You will stand tall and confidently express your feelings if you must. But here you are, inside his office, finding him fast asleep, head resting on the papers. Seeing him in this state, you finally noticed all the aspects you hadn't before. Of course, you both grew, but it was the first time you noticed how much longer his hair got. He seemed a lot bigger than before. Your hands hovered over his face, fingers gently moving his hair out of his eyes.

As much as you felt confident in your feelings, the soft side in you doesn't really want to show the affection you wanted to. So under the moonlight, as his eyes rested, you left the room to get your spare blanket, made it back into the office, and draped it over his back. You moved his hair out of his face, finger lingering a bit more on his cheek. A sigh left your lips as your eyes traveled to the stacks of papers he still had to get through. You confirmed the thought in your head to return in the morning to offer some help, but right now, you softly placed a kiss on his forehead, caressing it one last time before making your way out.

You heard a slight shuffle, turning in his direction. A small smirk formed.

"Sleep well, Firelord."

.

.

.

You made it back into your chambers, ready for bed, when the sounds of knocking stopped your tracks. Your eyes darted to the door, allowing entry. It caught you off guard when you saw none other than the man you left to rest.

"Did you come to tell me to sleep well?" You joked a bit, sitting on your bed.

Zuko stared back at you, pulling the blanket off his back, and walked up towards you. You didn't break eye contact, not once, but he didn't as well. This was a first. He came to a stop, looking down at you as you looked up. For a bit, it was like that, that is, until he stooped to your level, knees on the floor as he placed the blanket across your back instead. He rested on his knee, getting lower, and held your hand in his. He looked up at you, sweetness lingering in his eyes.

This, for once, was new to you. He wasn't this bold before. His stare held; he didn't break it, not once. So yours soften, intertwining your fingers with his.

"Do you have something to say?" You muttered softly.

"Did I earn you?"

"Hm?" Your eyebrows rose.

"I had to work for us, prove that I really want us. Did I do it?"

Your lips were slightly opened. It closed as you slightly nodded.

"You did, for a long while."

"Hm." He softly smiled. His eyes made it down to your lips, head tilted a bit as he leaned in, his eyes locked back with yours. Soon, your lips touched, and his hands roamed your frame, resting on your waist. Yours found his cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin. You won't say it, you never will. But it was indeed your stubbornness that held all this back, keeping all the pent-up affection. He broke for air, yet still close enough that you felt his breath brushing against your face.

You tilted his face up, finger pushing his chin. It traced along his face, playing in his hair. His face rested in your palm, looking up at you in adoration and love. Slowly, you removed your hand, forcing him to move his head. Instead, your hand found his from around your frame, standing as he followed behind. A small smirk formed on your face as you fell back onto the bed, a surprised sound leaving his lips as he fell on top of you.

His hands came in contact with the bed first, preventing you both from hitting your heads. But as his eyes linger, his head finally caught up with the position you place them in, he rushed to remove himself, but your hands locked him in place first.

"Wait!-"

"Do you want me to let go?"

Your question rang in his ear, repeating over and over in his head, and with a final sigh, he rested his head in your chest.

"No.. Not really.." He muttered before looking up at you, letting his hands roam your frame as you both felt the air shift. It got heavier, warmer, and everything fell into a blur.

In the morning, your cheek rested against his chest. The warmth of his bare chest is enough to keep you asleep, but the knocking on your door broke the trance. You rose from his chest, to find out that Zuko was already up, and his fingers were raking through your hair.

You felt his hand drop as he too rose.

Your eyes studied his frame, shoulder-length hair falling around him, as his muscles moved when he stretched.

"What is it?" He asked out loud to the guards outside.

"Oh, you're in there, my Lord. I'm sorry to bother."

That's when it hit him, mid-stretch, he stopped. His eyes landed on your frame, and then his cheeks got warmer.

"I think that knock was for me." You muttered, pulling the blanket around you.

"Yeah, I think it was.." He muttered, avoiding eye contact.

"I'd never think that they would ever get together.." Sokka muttered as a little girl pulled on his ponytail, small "ow's" leaving his lips as he battled her for his own hair.

Katara smiled at the scene before standing up to get the 2-year-old off her brother. She placed her on top of Appa as giggling escaped the toddler's lips. She found joy in his fur, dragging her hands all over his head.

"I hope she grows up like her momma." Toph joked, hinting at how you were back in the days.

"Zuko would have a rough time if she does," Aang muttered, watching her as she played in Appa's fur.

The sound of the door opening caught their attention as the girl looked up, and her smile grew.

"Papa!" She exclaimed, sliding off Appa, with Aang catching her, then letting her run up to her father. She crashed into his legs, looking up at him with glee.

Before Zuko could respond, the tug of his hair caused a yelp to escape his lips.

"What about mama dear?" You softly asked, stooping to her level.

A giggle escaped her lips as she ran towards you, right into your arms. They all stared at the family, some still baffled at the idea.

"I still couldn't believe it when I saw the letter, "You are invited to our wedding!" I DON'T RECALL ANY MENTIONS OF DATING?!"

"We are right here. I'm blind, not deaf."

Sokka glared at her as her eyes stared off into the unknown distance.

"Yeah, but that means they worked out whatever tension they had," Aang said, patting Zuko's shoulder.

"In bed.." A laugh left your lips as you heard what Toph muttered. Zuko sighed, hair falling over his face as his hands found it.

"Okay, guys, they're getting married soon, let's just celebrate, please.." Katara explained, as Toph sighed. The others agreed, and they all made it into the palace.

Your daughter decided to follow behind Zuko, no care in her head that he has work to do. She'll just help him.

You, on the other hand, lead the others to their room.

"So, in the end, you didn't go back home?" Aang asked.

You shook your head.

"I don't think I ever was planning to after he invited me to stay for a while." You explained.

"And when was this invitation?" Sokka asked, sticking his nose at you.

"At the celebration. Tea shop."

"Huh? WHAT?"

You glared at him for being so loud. A sigh left your soft lips as you let them roam the palace, slowly leaving the group as you venture for your family.

You made it into the throne room, seeing the old chamberlain leaving the room, a sour look still on his face. Your eyes followed his frame before falling onto the guards as they all bowed in your direction.

Your ears caught the sound of your very loud daughter "ordering" the men around. She sat on Zuko's lap while his eyebrows creased in concern, yet his face held a smile. When her eyes landed on you, the loudest "Mama!" echoed throughout the room.

You walked up to the duo, giving Zuko a small peck before patting your daughter's head.

"Are you done here?" You asked.

"Thanks to her, we ended early," Zuko muttered, looking down at the child.

A small "hm" left your lips as you told her, "good job". Zuko's eyebrow rose as he heard it, and he let your hand pull his as he held onto their daughter and rose from his chair.

You dragged them into your shared room, Zuko placing their daughter down as she roamed around. He, on the other hand, already made his way towards the vanity, staring at himself in the mirror as you came up behind. Your fingers dragged through his long hair, slightly pulling it down, forcing him to look up at you.

Your free hand rested on his cheek, fingers roaming, and your thumb rested on his bottom lip. Your hand that raked through his hair left the locs to get the brush, but less brushing was going to happen when you leaned down to connect lips.

You felt his smile form as he moved his head up more, his hands making it onto your face as he deepened the kiss more.

Unfortunately, you both have an unruly daughter who "thinks" she can bend by calling out the element and:

"Oof-"

A gasp left your lips as your eyes landed on the book that now rested on the floor, but for sure made contact with Zuko's head.

"Air bending!" She exclaimed with a pose.

"I think not." You stated, glaring at her, about to make your way towards her, until Zuko's hand rested on yours.

"It's okay.. I'm fine." He muttered, holding his face.

"Dear, you'll get a scar on the other side if she continues."

"Let's not overreact." He joked, looking up at you.

"Huh? I'm not. What if one day she does bend and it's fire, and then-"

"OKAY. Okay.." He muttered, looking away.

He then looked at his daughter as she ran up to him, giving him a sloppy kiss, where the book landed before picking up the same book.

"Sorry papa..!" She exclaimed, before running out of the room and off to who knows where. You both sighed as you shared a look.

"She said sorry." He softly said, shrugging his shoulder.

You stared down at him, with that one look he knew and loved. A troubled look made it onto his face as he looked away. That was when the smirk made it onto yours, as your fingers made it into his long locs, to tug at it.

"megs-"

"please..." he kissed your knuckles "please.." he kissed your forearm. "please." a kiss to your bicep. "please?" a kiss to your neck.

behaviour like this is abnormal for megumi. so you just laughed at his little display of clinginess.

"okay okay." you smiled and let him kiss up to your cheeks. "come to bed."

you stood and he sleepily followed you to his room and once you reached, plopped onto the bed with you in his arms.

"love you."

"love you too megs."

he kissed on and around your neck until he fell asleep.

⏾⋆.˚

you woke before megumi, like usual, and couldn't see him. you lifted the blanket to find his head nestled under your shirt.

you didn't move him.

you already know he's going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up.

if you liked ts you might like my other megumi works !

kawaiiladygirl's note: my freakquency is at an all time low so here's some fluff ig... kawaiiladygirl out !

“Why do you always assume I did something?”

You send her a Look, one that tells her that you know her well enough to know she definitely did something. The camera does a good job of conveying your intentions because she sighs, and you throw your head back in laughter as she reluctantly jumps into an explanation.

“...So obviously, I have to–”

“I’m done!” You yell out, not caring that you’ve interrupted Yerim mid-explanation. She leans closer to the camera for a better look at the product of 3 hours of hard work, her face completely covering your screen. You pick up the laptop, angling it so that she can take a better look at it.

“Woah, Y/nnie! That looks pretty good!” If the camera is facing you again, maybe she can see how your shoulders have risen higher than Mount Everest. “That’s better than anything I’ve ever built.”

You both cringe, remembering the time Yerim tried to fix a new chair. She ended up fixing it upside down (how?!), resorting to calling you at 2am, crying for you to come over and fix it. Safe to say, she’s never touched another assembling project again.

Her lips jut out into a pout towards you when you place your laptop back on the coffee table. “How are so good with tools anyway?”

You just shrug your shoulders. “Maybe I’m just a strong, independent young woman who doesn’t need no man.”

“Yeah right, no man,” Yerim scoffs, making little quotations out of her perfectly manicured fingers. 

You throw her a questioning look as you get to clearing your surroundings while Yerim continues her story. Loose screws here, cardboard boxes strewn there– you’ve certainly created a mess in the living room, sitting right in the eye of the hurricane of it all. 

The front door swings open, signalling Seungcheol’s arrival. Your boyfriend walks in, takeout in hand as he smoothly removes his shoes and coat by the entrance.

“I’m home~”

“In here!” You holler back.

Shuffling towards your voice, he walks into the mess that is currently in your living room. His little figure appears in frame, prompting Yerim to wave at him.

“Hey, Seungcheol!”

“Yeri! Long time no see!” He places his stuff on the table and stoops to kiss the top of your head. “Hi, baby! Whatchu up to?”

“Cheollie~” You melt into his touch, leaning back against his legs. Your head tilts up as you bat your pretty lashes at him, arms spread out to highlight the new dresser. “Look what I did today!”

“You fixed it yourself?” You nod. He eyes the dresser, hand on his chin as he seemingly inspects it from all angles before giving a nod of approval. “Couldn’t have done it better myself!”

You grin at his compliment. Just as quickly, though, your lips curve into a frown.

“It’s a little too heavy though; I can’t carry it into the bedroom.”

“I can do that, baby. You’ve already done all the hard parts.” He pushes his t-shirt sleeves up, patting his arm as he flexes the muscles there. “I’ll do all the heavy lifting, okay?”

“Okay!” He makes a show of lifting the dresser, puffing his chest a little and letting his muscles ripple as he settles on a comfortable grip. “Bedroom right?” You hum in confirmation, and then he’s off to transport the piece of furniture to its rightful place.

On-screen, Yerim’s jaw dropped. She had literally just watched you single-handedly manhandle the dresser to its side and back up again, fully completed, mind you, just to place anti-slip stickers on its legs. Too heavy? Too heavy?!

“Don’t need no man, my ass,” she mutters loud enough for you to hear.

Your head whips towards her direction. “What was that?” Ugh, even your voice has turned sickeningly sweet at the sight of your boyfriend.

“Nothing~”

“Baby! Where do you want this?” Seungcheol’s voice rings out from down the hall. Yerim takes it as her cue to end the video call. 

“I’m gonna go now. Brunch on Sunday?”

Message From: Jeon Wonwoo [4 Days Ago] [9:21AM] hey…i'm leaving town next month for a while. i got a good job offer overseas, and i took it without considering anything else. i'm sorry, and i think we should end whatever this is. at least for now.

You hadn't replied, only sat on the edge of your bed and felt your chest constrict.

His job wasn't the issue. It'd never be the issue, you wanted him to succeed. You wanted him to feel fulfilled.

The issue was him…well, it was…

Ugh.

"Stupid men." You muttered to yourself, taking a swig out of the bottle in your hand. It was the nasty bourbon he liked, the one that burned your esophagus all the way down. Your stomach wasn't empty, per say – there was a bag of chips sitting next to you on the couch. It wasn't as enticing as it usually was, but you didn't care that the salt and vinegar didn't pair well with your drink of choice. A drink that reminded you of Wonwoo, and would be the only thing that would once he was gone.

Unless you counted the smell of his cologne in your sheets. Or the hoodie that's draped over your shoulders, the plaid boxer shorts that belong to him covering your upper thighs. Or the champagne mustard you keep in your fridge specifically for him. Or the toothbrush he keeps at your apartment, despite the two of you being nothing more than friends.

Friends that kiss. Friends that undress each other in a frenzy, aching to feel the warmth of each other's skin. Friends that risk it every time, the raw feeling of skin on skin far too euphoric to give up.

Friends that say I love you in mumbles as they kiss, as they undress each other, as they give themselves to each other without a second thought.

Friends that had each other at arm's length for the last three years: you, because you were afraid of being too much.

And him, afraid of not being enough.

"I hate him." You mumble wearily, fumbling with the remote to flip through shows. You don't like anything, your eyes stinging with tears as you switch streaming services. Your Amazon Prime screen is too bright, and you flip through your Continue Watching…

Only to see his favorite movie sitting there, right after the last episode you'd watched of Bad Girls Club – Dead Poets Society.

Sighing, you toss your remote to the side and slide the bottle of bourbon onto the coffee table. You lean your head back onto the couch, feeling the effects of the liquor start to sink into your bones as you rustle the bag of chips. Popping one in your mouth, you chew lazily as the tears begin to slip down your face, rolling into the shells of your ears as you swallow.

"Wish you were here. What a fucking sadist."

You don't do long distance. You never have, you never will. And now, knowing that Wonwoo was leaving – the chances of you ever giving it a go were slim to fucking none.

Knock knock.

You jolt, coughing around the remains of the chip. The bag tips over, kettle chips scattering over your couch as you curse under your breath. You swipe them all back into the bag, dusting your couch off and scrunching the bag at the opening. You take a quick swig of the bottle, making a noise of disgust as it goes down.

Knock knock.

"Coming, I'm coming! God." You're wobbly on your legs, and you force yourself to concentrate as you toss the bag of chips onto your dining table. Not bothering to look through the peephole, you unlock your door to an apologetic Kim Mingyu holding a tipsy Jeon Wonwoo tight to his hip.

"No." You shake your head, moving to close the door when Mingyu gives you a pleading look. "Please, Y/N. He won't stop crying about you, and I don't know what to do anymore. I'll literally wait in the parking lot if you can't calm him down. Please, help me out." "Mingyu, I'm too drunk for this right now." You pinch the bridge of your nose, holding onto the frame of your door to keep steady. You're lying – you're not even near drunk. You're probably just as tipsy as Wonwoo is, and that's enough for you to not want him in your apartment. It would only end badly.

"Please, Y/N." Mingyu begs, and Wonwoo is seemingly staring straight through you. "Don't hate me." He mumbles, and you can't help but look up at Mingyu through teary eyes. "I'll be right downstairs, Y/N. I promise." He assures you gently, carefully shoving Wonwoo into the threshold. Wonwoo stumbles into your apartment, toeing his boots off in the foyer and disappearing into your kitchen. "I promise, Y/N. I think he just misses you." "He ended things, Mingyu." You whisper, hearing the door to your refrigerator open. You hear him jostling around the jars of condiments, and Mingyu runs a hand through his hair as he nods.

"I know, sweetie. He told me." He winces, before rubbing his face in frustration. "I think…maybe just talk. I'll be here, I swear." He holds out his pinky, and you weakly link your own as he ruffles your hair with your other hand. "I got you." "Thanks…" You murmur, before moving back to shut the door. Mingyu takes his leave, quietly clambering down the wet stone steps as you turn back into your apartment. You peer slightly into your kitchen, seeing Wonwoo holding a butter knife between his teeth as he fumbles with your jar of strawberry jam. He's got the bag of bread open on top of a plate and your toaster is on, peanut butter rolled on the counter haphazardly. You roll your eyes, watching as he stares at the jar with confusion before sighing.

"Y/N!" He calls, taking the butter knife from his mouth. He leans against the pantry door, his cheeks flushed as he calls your name again. "Y/N! I need your help!" "Idiot." You mutter to yourself, walking into the kitchen. He doesn't say anything as you grab the jar, spinning the top off with ease and holding it back out to him. He holds the knife out to you.

"It tastes better when you do it." He mumbles, his eyes low as you scoff. "Please? I didn't have dinner." You grumble inwardly as you turn away from him, fishing another knife out of the drawer as he slides the other one into the sink. You tuck your chin into your chest as you take the bread out of the toaster, chewing your cheek as you spread the jam thickly.

"This is mine." He tugs on the hem of the hoodie you're wearing, and you glance down at the brown material covering your torso. You shrug.

"So?" "So, I want it back." "You're in my apartment, not in my good graces and I'm holding a knife. I wouldn't test your fucking luck tonight, Jeon." You grit, before swiping the knife on the edge of the bread to get the jam off. You open the peanut butter, flicking the cap towards the backsplash of your countertop when you feel his hands fisting the fabric as he leans into you.

"I want you back. You're mine, too." He rests his head on the back of your neck, and if he feels your shoulders tense, he says nothing. "I want you. Always." "You're drunk." You mutter, feeling tears sting your eyes as you swipe a thick layer of peanut butter onto the toast. He groans, his breath warm against your neck and you can smell a light layer of grapefruit tequila on it. You liked the taste of it off his tongue, not so much out of the bottle.

"I need you." He tugged absently at the hoodie, "I need you to know that I love you, Y/N." "You're drunk, Wonwoo." Rolling your eyes, you stick the bread together and slice the tip of the knife diagonally, making two triangles. He was an iffy guy, never one to finish a sandwich alone. "Here. Eat." He doesn't take the sandwich, and you feel his hands grip your hips before turning you around with ease. Your face screams disinterest, but you can feel your chest heating at his proximity and the way his peachy cologne fills your nose. You meet his eyes, raising a brow as you take in the glassy look of his. "You're drunk." "I've had three shots and a beer, I am not drunk. I love you."

"Stop saying that." You shove the sandwich closer to his face, a pointed look in your eyes. It's like the bourbon you'd been drinking did nothing, because you're hyper aware of his every move and the very feeling of your blood coursing through your body. "Stop saying things you don't mean." "I've always meant it. I'll always mean it and I'll always feel it. I love you." He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he kneads his hands into your hips. You swallow a sob, feeling the ache in your throat as you look up to will away the tears threatening to fall.

"You dumped me." You forced your voice not to tremble, cursing yourself internally as a tear slipped. You wipe it away quickly, and he nods frantically. "I know, honey. I know, I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He buries his face into your neck, and you can feel his own tears begin to soak through the thick fabric. You sniffle, letting yourself breathe out around the lump in your throat shakily. "Please, forgive me. I'll beg. I'll do it, just don't leave me." "I've never left you, idiot." You scoff, staring at the sandwich in your hand. You make no effort to comfort him, to run your nails down his back in soothing spirals like you would before you would fall asleep facing each other. You make no effort to soothe him, his shoulders trembling as he cries into your (read: his) sweater. You let your tears stream freely, feeling Wonwoo's arms wrap tightly around your waist and pull you impossibly closer to him. 

You've always been weak when it comes to Wonwoo. You proved it time and time again: when he needed you to fill the girlfriend role at his graduation party a few years ago so his aunt would stop trying to set him up with one of the neighborhood girls. When he kissed you in a fit of jealousy at a bar in front of a nice boy who was trying to buy you a drink, and you let him take you home. When he undressed you with ease in the comfort of his bedroom and sank his teeth into any part of your body he could reach in bouts of possession, any time you'd go over.

Something you never understood, because you weren't his. Not really, not ever.

"I love you, Y/N." "You're drunk. Sleep on the couch, we'll see how much you actually 'love' me in the morning." You mutter, shoving him off your body. You can't bring yourself to look at him, so you hold the sandwich up to his face, "Open." He pushes your hand away, "I love you." "Wonwoo–" "No, Y/N. I love you. I love you and I'm sorry. Please, let me love you the way you deserve and if I can't live up to it, I'll walk out of your life forever." His arms are still loosely wrapped around your waist, and he pulls you close. Your hands are squished between his body and yours, and you sigh inwardly. He plucks the sandwich from your hand, putting it back on the plate as he sniffles.

"Please. Just give me another chance." "You're leaving, Wonwoo. You're leaving me behind."

"Come with me. I'll buy your ticket, I'll even get someone to take over your lease and we can be together, I promise–" You cut him off with a shake of your head, closing your eyes.

"You're leaving. That's enough to want to move on, isn't it? You don't love me, Wonwoo. You love the thought of me." You mutter, "You love knowing I'm always here. You love knowing that I wait for you, time and time again. You love knowing that even when you fail, I show up." You open your eyes, peering up at him with a bit of poison dripping in your voice.

"You love having someone, it doesn't matter who it is. So find someone else." He doesn't reply, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he tilts his head to the side. His eyes narrow slightly, his arms loosening around your body. You move back a bit, your lower back hitting the edge of the counter as you cross your arms and look away. "How can I prove to you that that's not true?" You scoff, rubbing your face with one hand. It feels hot, and you're not sure if it's from the alcohol or the closing proximity between his chest and yours.

"Tell me. I'll do it. I'll do anything." His hands are on either side of you now, gripping the counter gently as his teary eyes scan your face. For a hint, for an emotion, anything that says you want him too.

You shake your head, feeling your chest constrict as you clear your throat. "There's nothing you can do, Wonwoo." "I'll rescind my offer. I'll drop it." He tested, and you shook your head slowly.

"There is nothing, Wonwoo. And I wouldn't want you to lose out on a major opportunity just because–"

"You are the major opportunity I'm missing out on. I took the fucking job because I couldn't stand the idea of not being enough for you. I couldn't stand laying in my room and thinking that one day you'll realize what a fucking coward I am and pick someone else. It was never about the fucking job, Y/N. It's about me not being enough for you, but still wanting to have my cake and eat it, too."

His eyes are full of sincerity, but something inside you burns.

"How can you say that about yourself?" You whispered, your eyes filling with tears as you looked up at him. "How can you think that, Wonwoo? Not enough? For me?"

He breathes out, looking at the ground between the two of you. Your socks are his, too.

"How can you not? How can you stand here, in my sweater and my boxers and my socks and tell me that you don't? Tell me that I'm a coward, tell me that I keep running from the things I love because I want to be enough and when I finally return, it'll be of no use. I'm trying to…I want…This is hard for me. Tell me it's not enough just to love you, and I'll do whatever it takes. Please." You can hardly see him through your tears, the vision of the broken man in front of you blurred just like many of your drunken memories with him. But you remember every single one. Every kiss, every caress, every drunken I love you. Every sober I love you.

Every single time Wonwoo showed up for you – when you needed a date to an office party so your coworkers would stop hounding you about going on a date with Hyesung from Finance. When you went on a trip with your sister and got stuck in the woods, and he drove over eight hours to get to you. When he picked you up from the shittiest date known to man, and drove you to his apartment – only to change you out of your uncomfortable dress and take you out for ice cream.

When he said I love you, every single time you needed him. Even if no one else was listening, even if you were both fully clothed and sitting in his car listening to music.

"Please." "We should talk in the morning. I'm tipsy, you're tipsy…" You trail off, your hands coming to rest on your eyes. The cool feeling of your fingertips was enough to get you to stop crying, "This is too much for right now. You're still leaving." "You're the only reason I'd stay." He admits quietly, his voice thick as you cross your arms again. You stand upright, tilting your head towards the sandwich on the plate. "Eat. I'll clean up the couch for you." He lets you slip out of the kitchen without a word, but you can feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your head. You're silent as you walk around your apartment, gathering your thickest blankets and a few pillows for him to rest on when you hear your phone buzzing incessantly on the coffee table.

Incoming call: Kim Mingyu

"Hello?" You tuck the phone between your shoulder and your cheek, and hear a sigh of relief.

"You okay? You didn't tear each other to shreds?" His voice is meek, making you snort.  "It's fine, he's just tipsy. He's sleeping on the couch. I'll call you in the morning?" "You sure? I can come get him right now." You glance up, seeing Wonwoo staring at the calendar on the wall in your dining room. "Nah. Goodnight, Mingyu." "Keep me posted." You hang up, tossing the phone over your shoulder and moving the cushions around. You don't pay him any mind as he walks towards the bathroom, figuring he's going to brush his teeth. Fluffing pillows, you listen quietly as the water turns off and on, and the sound of the toothbrush moving back and forth.

You cap the bottle of bourbon and put it back on the second layer of the coffee table, where Wonwoo usually left it. You turn your television off, leaving the remote on the arm of the couch in case he wanted it or woke up in the middle of the night and wanted something to entertain him.

You turned off your lights, leaving the overhead stove light on for Wonwoo. It was odd to make up the couch for him – he never slept there, always in your bed. He'd wash his face, brush his teeth and snuggle into your side.

Walking towards your bedroom, you see him fishing out a pair of sweatpants from your last drawer and undoing his belt simultaneously. You roll your eyes, ducking into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You let your mind wander as you do so, quietly doing your night routine and hearing Wonwoo walk about.

It brought you some comfort, hearing the floorboards creak under him.

Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror as you wiped the wet sink down. Eyes swollen and red from the tears, the shoulder of your sweater damp from Wonwoo. Wrinkled around the waist, from his grip on it.

You turned the light off, tucking your hands into the pocket of the hoodie and slipping into your bedroom. 

Only to see him lying on your bed, under your purple duvet. His glasses are still on, but his eyes are closed.

"Wonwoo." "Mmh." "Wonwoo, go on the couch. You're not sleeping here tonight." You tapped his shoulder, only for him to hum in response. "Wonwoo. I'm serious." He peels an eye open, "I never sleep on the couch. I didn't sleep on the couch that one time everyone stayed over because they were too drunk to drive, you got me used to a life of luxury. Don't take it from me." You huff, crossing your arms on your chest as he closes his eye.

"Get in and shut up." "Yeah, right. Wonwoo, out." "No." "Wonwoo!" You groan in frustration, stomping your foot petulantly. You knew him. You knew he was stubborn as a fucking mule. "This is my apartment, I am not sleeping on the couch!" "Wow, crazy." He replies lazily, before plucking his glasses off his face and sliding them onto your nightstand. "Goodnight, Y/N." "Jeon Wonwoo, so help me God–"

He turns on his side, bringing the duvet further up on his shoulder as you gape at him.

Rubbing your face angrily, you round the bed and slide in. You turn your back to him, "Stay on your side." He doesn't respond.

– WEDNESDAY, 2:48AM.

You can't fall back asleep.

Instead, you're laying in bed facing Wonwoo – who did not stay on his side. Your leg had been pulled over his hip, his hand splayed across your lower back, under your sweater.

You were counting his eyelashes as he slept.

"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" You start, your voice soft so as to not stir him. "You're a pain in my ass every single day, Jeon Wonwoo. You come into my life right when I'm going through one of the biggest transitions of my life, and you kiss me in the backseat of an Uber Pool. But no, you couldn't let it stop there, could you? You had to help me move into my apartment. You had to welcome me to the neighborhood, you couldn't just be the weird one-night-stand I met at a bar while celebrating my big move to the city. I would have never thought you'd be so outgoing." Your hand moved to gently brush his hair out of his face, your thumb moving down his sideburns gently before you traced the shell of his ear.

"And then you just kept coming around. I don't know what it was that made you keep coming over, and at first I thought nothing of it. I was fine with the sex, with the shared meals, and having a companion. You were nice, and you showed me a bunch of places, and you took pictures of me and helped me get them framed. Then you introduced me to Mingyu, and oh God. He's a whirlwind, isn't he? I love that guy." You sigh, lightly swiping your knuckles across his cheek as he breathes in quietly. "I love knowing you. I think it took me a minute to understand you better. We were never really just friends, but you made it feel like one of the most fulfilling friendships I'd ever had when we weren't fooling around. You engaged me, and you shared your passions with me. You drove me around when I didn't have a car, and I'll never forget when I called you scared out of my mind during that trip with my sister. You came. It took you eight hours but you came and I can't imagine ever not having you." Tears well up in your eyes, and you wipe them quickly before they can drop onto him. 

"I love you, Wonwoo. Even if you're leaving. Even when I think I'm too much, you don't hesitate to calm that storm before it's even come to the surface. You've always been so gentle, and I can't imagine someone like you looking at someone like me, the complete opposite of you, and wanting that. I won't say for the rest of your life, because you're still going to be gone in a few weeks. But right now, at this moment, you're here. With me. And I love you."

You sniffle slightly, pressing your lips to his hairline in a featherlight kiss before closing your eyes. Your nose barely brushes his as you do, and you feel more tears slip out as you mumble again.

"I'll miss you." You don't see the crystalline tear slide down his face and sink into the pillow.

– WEDNESDAY, 3:15AM.

"I hate it when you cry. You always say you look bad, but you don't." Wonwoo's eyes are glued to your face, so close to his he can count every eyelash you have. His lips touch yours slightly as he speaks, but he can't bring himself to move back and risk waking you up.

"You'd never be too much for me. I was made to love you, even if you don't believe me. I said I'd walk out of your life forever if you didn't believe me, but I lied. I could never do that, and I've never felt more seen by someone in my entire life." He can't touch your face like you did him, because your arm is wrapped around his shoulder and your hand is nestled in his hair. He's satisfied with the warmth of your back on his palm, his thumb tracing light circles into it. He's satisfied with this, wanting to kiss you so deeply that he's the only thing you can taste for days.

He wants to be the only one who kisses you. For the rest of your life.

"I gave up the offer. You're going to be mad when I tell you, but I'd rather ask your forgiveness than have you think I wouldn't give up everything to have you. I'd give the shirt off my back in a winter storm in the middle of Minnesota if it meant I'd have you forever…but that would also probably mean death, so. I guess I'm saying I'd die for you." Your face scrunches suddenly, and you shift in your sleep. Your hand in his hair slides down, your fingertips breaching the collar of his shirt. He stops breathing as you run your nails across his skin gently, before it snakes back up to his hair. Your thumb moves in a circular motion behind his ear, before it stops and he feels a soft exhale from your lips.

Years of confessing to you in your sleep tell him you're still out.

"I love you, more than anything. I love that you keep champagne mustard in the fridge for me after I said I liked it once. I love that you called me when you needed that date to that office party, even if it was to get your coworkers off your back. To call you mine, in front of other people and even just have a taste of the idea…it ruined me. I can't think of anything else, with anyone else but you. Being in love with you feels like I'm constantly unwrapping a gift, but the wrapper is the gift. It makes you, it's everything you are." Wonwoo sighs, and your face shifts closer to him. Your forehead touches his, and he's sure if he says anything else, he'll be kissing your lips.

A reward so sweet, that he has yet to deserve.

But he speaks anyway, and hopes your heart hears him.

"You don't have to miss me. I'm here. Please, only miss me when I'm at work. Only miss me when I'm not able to come over because Mingyu conned me into going out with him and the guys. Only miss me when I'm asleep and can't talk to you, but know I dream of you. Know that everything I am is you, and even when you're asleep next to me, I wish you were here. Talking, telling me every thought that comes across your mind. I love it, I love knowing you. I love you, Y/N." He adjusts slightly, his nose bumping yours slightly but his lips no longer aligned with yours.

"Please, only miss me when I'm actually gone. Wish for me and I'll appear, my love." His eyes close, the sting of tears overwhelming as he buries himself into you as best as he can.

"I love you. Please, love me, too."

He doesn't see the pout on your lip when you hear him sniffle.

– WEDNESDAY, 5:53AM.

You're awake again, despite your protests to whatever God was out there.

Wonwoo is also awake, his eyes glued to your necklace. A chain, actually, that you stole from him a year ago. Classic. You're both frozen in position, your fingers tangled in his hair and his still on your back. Neither of you have said anything, and you're waiting for your alarm to go off so you can have an excuse to worm yourself out of his grasp. You have nowhere to go. You work from home, Wonwoo knows that.

"You work today." Your eyes glance down, seeing Wonwoo still staring at your neck. His voice is nice and raspy in the morning, and your fingers tighten in his hair out of reflex. He winces, and you grimace, rubbing the back of his head in apology.

"I do." He doesn't say anything, instead wiggling slightly to meet your eyes. He looks up at you, tired eyes scanning your face before he closes them. He hums. "Can we talk before you jump out and run with the excuse?" He murmurs, and you nearly scoff – when you realize he knows every trick in your book. You frown at yourself, before sighing. His eyes open, and you reach behind him to grab his glasses. He doesn't budge as you silently brush his hair out of his face, sliding them over his ears before settling back.

"...I suppose." "I love you." You feel your breath hitch in your chest, and you move to pull away from him when he shakes his head, holding you tightly to him. "Please, stay." His lips are too close to yours for you to say anything without brushing them. The ache to kiss him is deep in your stomach, but you will it away with a sigh.

"I love you." "I know, Wonwoo." "I love you so much, Y/N." He mumbles, his hand sliding out from under your sweater to your thigh, high on his hip. He pulls you impossibly closer, "It'd be selfish of me to want a life without you, when I know you feel the same."

You look away, your eyes glued to your headboard as you try to speak around the lump in your throat.

"What does it matter? You're leaving." His hand moves to your jaw, gently squeezing your cheeks together when you glance back down at him.

"I'm not, I won't be making that mistake again."

He presses his lips to yours, inhaling your soft sob as you kiss him back as best you can. He pushes you onto your back gently, never disconnecting his lips from yours as you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him flush to you. Your fingers find home in his hair, earning a soft groan into your mouth as you tug lightly. "I love you. Please, please believe me." His forehead is pressed to yours, lips brushing yours as he speaks. Your eyes dart all over his face, and you choose to swallow your insecurities. You choose to allow it – if he wants to love you, flaws and all…

It's his prerogative.

"Please." He begs, his hand cradling your jaw gently as he molds his lips to yours chastely. He holds you like you'll break, with such care as you look up at him. "Love me, too. Please."

"I heard you, earlier. When you said you rescinded the offer." You murmur, watching as he nods carefully. "You need to fix that. You need to take that job." He shakes his head, "No. I want to–" "You need to take it, Wonwoo." You repeat yourself, your eyes pointed as your hand wraps around his wrist. His eyes are full of worry, ignoring the way your thumb against his wrist tickles and the way your warmth against him is making his head spin. You look hesitant, but breathe out gently as you speak.

"I'll still be here. I promise, I'll still love you then." You whisper, watching as he nibbles on his lip before ultimately shaking his head. "I can't." "You can, and you will, Jeon Wonwoo."

"I can't. You'll be here and I'll be there…I couldn't even go a week without seeing you, what makes you think I can go six months?" He groans, slumping his forehead against your collarbone. You hum, running your hand through his hair.

"Well for one, I'm hoping things are more than just this–" "They are! They are, I love you. Please, be mine. Be my girlfriend." He jolts up, making you snort as he squishes your face with his hands, "Say yes. Say yes right now, before I lose my mind." "You could ask me over breakfast, at least. We could shower–" "Can you just answer?" "Together." His insistence stops, and he acts nonchalant as he leans back, his hands sliding on your thighs. He shrugs, tonguing his cheek, "I mean, if you insist. Together, and all." "You're such a fucking loser." You kick his hip lightly, making him huff as he pushes your foot away. "Go, start the water." You shove him away gently, and he casually slides off the bed, stretching his arms over his head. You look at the clock on your nightstand, 6:17AM. You furrow your brow, reaching for your phone and seeing your alarms had been turned off.

"What the hell?" "Oh, I turned them off last night when you were brushing your teeth." Wonwoo squeals as he sprints out of your bedroom, followed by a throw pillow being chucked after him. It hits the doorway as he skids into your bathroom. 

"Missed me!" "You're dead when I get in there, Wonwoo!" It's silent for a second, before you hear the water start running…

And the lock click.

"I love you, too!"

– 2 MONTHS LATER: CHICAGO, ILLINOIS.

"Whoever said long distance was easy fucking lied." Wonwoo grumbles into the phone, "My paid week off isn't for another three weeks and I feel like I'm losing my mind. I wish you were here, sweetheart." He leans back in his desk chair, the clock reading 9:32PM. You're on the subway, he thinks. You've got a Pilates class you take during your lunch hour.

"I know, honey. Hey, on the plus side, I sent you a care package! There's lots of good stuff in there, it should arrive soon. I checked the tracking." Your voice is kind of strained as you talk, and Wonwoo frowns. 

"The time difference is also a bitch. I'm about to go to bed and you're not even halfway through your day. You've got Pilates today, right?" He clicks around on his laptop, pulling up your shared calendar. He squints, seeing an added red section marked MINGYU lasting through the next three weeks. "What's going on with Mingyu?" "The time difference does fucking suck, I agree. As for Pilates, my instructor actually overbooked my session. She won't refund me, that old hag." You scoff, "Mingyu is going out of town, and he wanted me to see if Tzuyu needed anything. Tzuyu told me in the politest way possible that she wanted me to fuck off because she's going to spend her entire week sleeping. God, I wish that were me."

"Agreed. I've gotta get going, honey. If I don't go to bed now, I'll fuck my sleep schedule and this weekend is the only free one I have. I might go some places, pick some stuff up for you." He nods to himself, and you hum in response.

"I miss you."

He feels his heart sink. "We agreed we wouldn't say that, Y/N."

"I know, it's just…ugh."

"I'll be out there in three weeks. Before you even know it, I promise." Wonwoo rubs his eyes, seeing his doorbell pick up some movement on the app. "Hang on, I think your care package is here." "Ooh, unbox it with me! I wanna see the reaction." He laughs, "I'll send you a video. You need to get your camera fixed, this phone call shit is ridiculous." "Pay for it to get fixed, man! All that work abroad and nothing for the lonely sugar baby at home." You chide, making him snort.

"The most I've got to give you is all going to the ticket back to Seoul. You'll get some sugar soon. Hang on." He stands up, stretching his hands over his head as he walks to his door. He can still hear your disgusted sound from the foyer, and he peeks out his peephole to see no one on his doorstep but the box. He opens the door cautiously, the hinges in desperate need of ointment when he feels someone looking at him. He glances up, seeing you leaned against the wall in his brown hoodie, with your duffel bag swung over your shoulder. "Think you can give me that sugar now?"

He gapes, "You…I'm…Y/N." "Is that a no? After I flew all this way here?" You fold your arms across your chest, rolling your eyes with a flair of sass. "God, Wonwoo. You are the one that said wish for me, and I'll appear. I am here! I appeared!"

You're right, he did say that.

"Your phone camera isn't broken, is it?" He crosses his arms, and you grin, holding out your phone that's in perfect condition. "And Mingyu's at your place, isn't he?" "He wanted to deep clean my apartment! What was I supposed to do, say no?" You shrug, and Wonwoo just scoffs as he reaches for you, pulling you towards him by your belt loop. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I missed you, Wonwoo." "I missed you, too. How long are you here?" He pushes the two of you into the apartment, inching the care package into the foyer before slamming the door with his foot. "Three weeks." You murmur against his lips, moving your arm to slip your duffel bag onto the floor. He hums in response, his hands gripping your waist as he maneuvers the two of you to his bedroom. 

"Hungry?" "Nope." "Tired?" "Maybe when we're done."

Wonwoo doesn't do long distance. He never has, and he thought he never would. And now, knowing that you are the distance away that he needs to brace himself for – the chances of him ever giving it a go were undeniable.

He'd go days without seeing you, as long as you still loved him. He'd go weeks, months even, without seeing you as long as he still heard your voice before he went to bed and as he made his commute to work. He'd go years without seeing you, as long as he could wish you were there and you'd appear.

Yeah. Wonwoo does long distance. And so do you.

when you and minghao first started dating, you’d mentioned that you had a fan account before meeting him. you’d asked him if he wanted to see it but he declined and it never really came up again.

until today.

you’re just on your couch, peacefully reading your book when your usually calm boyfriend barges into the apartment.

“babe, we need to talk,” minghao states and you sit up, thinking it was a serious conversation.

“is everything okay?” you ask, seeing the serious look on his face. “no! nothing is okay! how could you!” minghao exclaims and now you’re really worried, trying to figure out what you’d done.

“what exactly did i do…” you trail off, not able to think of anything you’d done wrong recently. unless he was mad that you didn’t put the laundry away immediately or make the bed as neatly this morning. you knew your boyfriend liked everything to be neat and tidy but surely he couldn’t be this mad about that.

“i was just peacefully scrolling on my instagram explore page today when a certain fan account popped up,” minghao starts to explain, pacing the room a little.

“they posted a nice photo spread of my photo cards with a pretty tea set so i decided to stalk their page–”

“you stalk your fan’s accounts?” you raise an eyebrow, cutting him off. “i like to see my fan’s creativity. that’s not the point! anyways, i realize that this entire account is pretty much 90% dedicated to hoshi,” minghao says.

“and what’s worse is that i continued scrolling through it to find a photo of you! my girlfriend!” he exclaims.

“wait, this is why you’re upset? because you found my old fan account? babe, i told you about this when we started dating and i even asked if you wanted to see it,” you remind him.

“I’m not upset about the account. I’m upset that it’s dedicated to kwon soonyoung!” your boyfriend clarifies and you can’t help but be amused.

“seriously? it’s not that big a deal, babe. i has that account before we started dating– hell, before we even met,” you shrug, picking your book back up.

“okay but why hoshi?” he practically whines. “he was my bias back then–”

“he was your what?!” minghao gasps. “you biased hoshi? kwon soonyoung? hoshi?” he just stares at you.

“jealous?” you tease. “you biased him? your bias is a furry!” minghao gapes at you. “why did you even have so many photo cards of his,” he asks.

“okay it wasn’t my fault i always ended up pulling his photo cards in albums,” you shrug. “you should’ve sold them. and bought mine instead,” minghao states, his expression dead serious.

“aren’t you the one who tells your fans not to buy photo cards?” you give him a look. “this is different! you’re my girlfriend and you’re collecting a furry’s photo cards,” he argues.

“in my defense, i wasn’t your girlfriend when i was collecting him. besides, it’s not like hoshi’s the only one i posted on that account! I posted spreads for pretty much everyone, including you! it was just mostly hoshi and jeonghan because they were my biases,” you point out.

“oh great, so you biased the guy who thinks he’s a tiger and the one who has a pet rock,” he says dryly.

“i might’ve biased them but you’re the one I’m in love with now,” you assure him, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

“so… where is your photo card binder?” he questions after pulling away and you raise an eyebrow at him. “you are not burning my collection,” you warn.

“i wasn’t going to burn it. i was going to sell it. and then use that money to buy you photo cards of me,” he corrects.

“it’s okay babe, i don’t need a photo card of you when i have the real thing,” you tell him, kissing him again before you focus back on your book.

you think minghao lets it go after that but you’re proven wrong a few weeks later when they have their comeback.

he comes home with a gift bag for you, making you raise an eyebrow. “shouldn’t i be the one giving you a gift to celebrate your comeback, not the other way around?” you ask but happily accept the gift.

he watches as you pulled out every album version. you don’t realize that the plastic seal had been broken on all of them as you open it.

you open the first album, checking your photo card pulls as your boyfriend watched with a smirk on his face.

“oh my god, all three hao’s? i don’t think I’ve ever pulled only one member before,” you say, setting down the three different photo cards of your boyfriend.

it wasn’t until you opened the carat version that you realized your boyfriend had done something.

“seriously?” you give him a look when you flip the photo cards to reveal, once again, all of his. plus the carat binder was also his.

“i guess you’ve lost your hoshi luck, honey. you got lucky pulling all of mine,” hao says innocently.

he watches as you pick up your phone, expecting you to take a photo of your pulls but instead he sees you tapping on it, most likely texting someone.

“who are you texting?” he asks and you look up at him. “hoshi. to ask for his photo cards,” you say, dead serious.