♡

They came bearing gifts: bagels and watery hot chocolate stolen from the dining hall. “We saw you moving in,” Anton had explained quickly, voice tumbling over itself. “Thought maybe you could use some help.”

Then Sohee, grinning, lifted the plate in his hands and added, “Plus, we saw you at the frat party last night. Figured you’d need food.”

Manon gasped like they were saviors then shoved you aside to grab the first bagel and announced right then and there that the four of you were friends now. You could only laugh, stepping back to let them in, not realizing you’d just opened the door to the rest of your life.

From that morning on, the four of you were impossible to untangle. What was meant to be a favor quickly became a habit; Anton and Sohee were always at your door and Manon always let them in.

Friday nights meant football games where you painted your faces in sloppy stripes and screamed yourselves raw from the bleachers, even though you didn’t understand half the rules, just that your school was winning and that was enough.

Saturdays were for swim meets with posters in hand watching Anton slice through the water and touch the wall first every single time. His cheeks always burned when you swore he’d be captain next year, shrugging off the praise even as pride bloomed in his chest.

Sohee had his concerts. The three of you filed into the auditorium with flowers clutched tight, screaming every time he had a solo until the choir director threatened to throw you out. You would struggle to keep in your laughs for the rest of the night.

And then there was ballet (Manon’s bright idea), an elective she convinced you to take, neglecting to mention you’d be performing on stage three times that semester but Anton and Sohee showed up anyway, front row with phones raised high, clapping politely like you were professionals. Without fail, they always took you and Manon out to dinner afterward because they knew how hungry you’d be.

When November came around and the semester started to come to a close, you pushed tables together in the dorm lounge for Friendsgiving, each of you bringing something from home. Anton and Sohee taught you about their Korean traditions, Manon brought a mix of her Ghanaian and Swiss dishes and you explained yours between laughter while food was passed around. It felt like home.

They felt like home.

By December there was a tiny Christmas tree you and Anton decorated while Manon and Sohee strung lights around your room. You exchanged cheap gifts wrapped in too much tape and cards scribbled with words that mattered more than the presents themselves. When you all went away for the holidays, you kept in touch, making plans for what the spring semester would hold.

When spring finally rolled around, it didn’t feel quite as terrifying as fall had. New York was no longer something you were surviving but somewhere you were beginning to belong to.

You built your schedules together over late-night takeout the first week, promising to meet for lunch between classes and somehow you all ended up in the same section of English 102.

You were the only one who treated it like it mattered, you figured it was the English major in you. Manon used it as an extra hour of watching shows, Sohee half the time scribbled choreography notes in the margins or finished homework for music theory and to give Anton credit, he at least paid attention…even if you sometimes caught him doodling staff lines in the corners of his notebook.

It was a small class, tucked into one of the older buildings and the professor had a habit of asking open-ended questions that usually went unanswered but you liked her. She had a soft spot for fiction and a drawer full of chocolate she passed around during presentations.

The second semester moved faster than the first. There were fewer homesick nights and more impromptu trips to Chinatown; more movie nights in the dorm lounge with popcorn that always burned; more inside jokes scribbled onto whiteboards in the dorm halls; more of Anton sitting cross-legged on your bed with his guitar asking you to read his lyrics out loud just to hear how they sounded coming from someone else.

It’s the last week of classes and Sohee and Manon both opted to skip, completely over the school year while you decided to go, Anton tagged along so you wouldn’t be alone. The classroom is only half full and students are lounging around studying for their last finals.

You’re in the front row with Anton beside you, passing the time with a game of tic-tac-toe in the margin of his notebook until your professor claps her hands together. “Alright,” she calls, smiling at the groans she knows are coming. “Time to go over your last assignment of the semester and don’t worry, it’s not an essay.”

She reaches for a stack on her desk and lifts a small box of envelopes. “I want you all to write a letter. It can be to yourself, to a classmate, to anyone who’s made an impression on you during your freshman year. Seal it up, give it to me and I’ll send them back to you…two years after you graduate.”

You pout at the catch, two years? You glance at Anton expecting a joke but he’s sitting unusually still. His pencil, the one he always chews on, is balanced between his fingers frozen mid-tap against his notebook. You nudge him. “Earth to Anton?”

He blinks out of whatever world he drifted into and awkwardly laughs. “Yeah? Sorry…just thinking about who to write to.”

“Yourself,” you say easily, already reaching for the envelope your professor is passing down the row.

He hums noncommittingly and reaches for an envelope, turning it over in his hands slowly.

You don’t waste time and start writing immediately. You sign and date the corner of your lined paper and start spilling little pieces of who you think you’ll become. You ask future-you about the bestseller you hope you’ll write, ask if you officially move to New York, you add a line about Manon wondering if the two of you really commit to living together postgrad. Then you steal a peak at Anton who still seems to be lost in thought before hesitantly writing: I hope we stay close.

You don’t think much of it, it’s a throwaway sentiment. When you finish, you look up and see Anton still hasn’t written a single word. His notebook is blank, still untouched almost like he’s afraid to write.

“You okay?” you whisper.

He startles again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m—I’m fine.”

He clears his throat, flips open his notebook and finally starts writing but not in his usual messy handwriting, rather slower and neater. You can’t see a single line of what he writes and you don’t try to. It feels…private.

When the lecture is over, your professor calls out. “Alright, pass them forward!”

You lick your envelope, seal it closed and hand it off. Anton hesitates for a moment before sealing his and slides it into the pile with everyone else’s. As you pack your bag, you say, “Kinda weird to think we’ll get these back in what…five years?”

He hums softly. “Feels so far.”

You don’t notice the way he looks at the envelopes as your professor tucks the box under her arm. You don’t notice the way his fingers flex like he’s itching to pull his back out. Once you make it outside Anton bumps your shoulder playfully as you walk. “Lunch?” he asks.

You smile and loop arms with him. “Obviously.”

You don’t think about the letters again.

Present Day

“Happy birthday to you~”

You stir awake to the faint sound of someone humming low and off-key in your ear. For a split second, you think it’s Manon, already back from whatever glamorous event she’s working in Paris this week but when you blink your eyes open, it’s your boyfriend Jake sitting at the edge of your bed, hair messy, still shirtless and holding a cupcake with a crooked candle stuck in the middle.

“Happy birthday to you…” he sings softly, dragging out the tune like he’s trying not to laugh at himself. When you groan and drag the blanket over your head, he nudges your leg gently with his knee. “Nope. Come on, you have to listen.”

You groan and roll onto your back covering your eyes with both hands. “Jake, it’s too early for this.”

“It’s nine,” he says through a laugh before going back to singing.

You peek at him between your fingers and see his proud smile and you don’t have the heart to argue. When he finishes, he leans over to kiss your forehead then whispers, “Happy birthday, pretty girl,” before offering you the cupcake.

You sit up, eyes still heavy with sleep, hair a mess and voice rough. “Where’d you even get a cupcake?”

He tilts his head towards your door “Bodega downstairs. I told them it was your birthday and he insisted on giving me the biggest one.”

You smile despite yourself and bite into the cupcake. A few crumbs fall causing Jake to brush crumbs from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. There’s something so intimate about it you glance away for a second, suddenly aware of the quiet apartment around you. Manon’s job as a social media coordinator for a global beauty brand has her in Europe more often than in the apartment you’ve shared since graduation. You barely see her these days except for late-night FaceTimes and the rare occasions when she’s home.

And Jake…well, Jake has slowly filled the leftover space.

You met him last spring at a mutual friend’s housewarming party; soft-spoken, polite, a little awkward but in a cute way. He works in Manhattan as a business analyst, wears button-downs even on weekends and chips in towards your rent on months you’re behind. He’s the kind of guy your parents hoped you end up with.

“So,” he says, settling beside you, his knee bumping yours. “What does the birthday girl want to do today?”

You shrug. “I work today, remember? Manuscript review.”

He frowns. “Are they seriously making you work on your birthday?”

“That’s the life of an editorial assistant,” you joke, nudging him. “Also, I really don’t mind. It’s kind of relaxing.”

He doesn’t look convinced but he wraps an arm around your shoulders anyway, pulling you into his side. You let yourself fall against him, warm and comfortable, your cheek resting on his chest. Your life isn’t perfect, you’re two years out of graduation, living with a best friend who’s never home, working a job that’s adjacent to the dreams you once wished on stars for but it’s safe and Jake has become part of that.

He kisses the top of your head. “Well, my parents want to take us out tonight. They reserved that Italian place you love downtown. They’re excited to celebrate with you.”

Your stomach flips. Jake’s parents adore you, they treat you like you’re already part of the family. His mother meal preps for you and his father forwards you articles about “the best books to read in your twenties,” because he thought you’d appreciate it as an aspiring author.

It should make you happy but somewhere in the back of your mind, a tiny voice reminds you of a ghost from your past, someone you thought would be your forever. You shove the thought away. Jake is watching you, fingers still drawing circles on your knee, waiting for your reaction. You force a smile. “That sounds…nice.”

He beams at you. “Great! The reservation is for six pm.”

Jake takes your plate from you and sets it aside on your nightstand before crawling back toward you on the bed, his knee sinking into the mattress beside your hip.

“You know,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek gingerly, “you look really, really beautiful right now.”

You huff a sleepy laugh. “I look like a raccoon.”

He dips down to kiss the tip of your nose. “A beautiful raccoon.”

You swat his chest but he only laughs, leaning in to kiss you properly this time. His lips move against yours with a fervour that leaves you breathless. His hand slides to the back of your head, his thumb grazing the curve of your jaw as his ring presses coolly against your skin. You gasp and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

“____,” he groans against your lips, his voice filled with need.

You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He pulls back just barely, lips brushing yours as he whispers, “Let me spoil you today.”

“Jake…” you start but he kisses the rest of your sentence away, smiling against your mouth.

His hands trail down your sides, fingertips tracing lazy lines over your hips. You shiver and he notices. “Come here,” he breathes, shifting suddenly. Before you can question it, his arms scoop under your thighs and back, lifting you effortlessly off the bed. You gasp, arms flying around his shoulders. “Jake!”

“What?” he teases, carrying you toward the bathroom with ridiculous ease.

“Put me down!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No.”

You try to glare at him but it’s impossible when he’s looking at you like this: totally in love. He nudges the bathroom door open with his foot, sets you gently against the counter and presses another kiss to your forehead. “Shower with me?”

His fingers toy with the hem of your sleep shirt, waiting for your answer. You breathe out a tiny laugh. “Are you trying to make us both late?”

He smirks. “Maybe.”

“Well…” you slide your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, “I guess we can be a little late.”

His grin turns boyish and triumphant. “Have I ever told you I love you?”

You laugh in response as he turns on the water, steam already curling through the room. You kiss him again, slow, sweet and a little dizzying. He smiles into it, hands tightening at your hips. For a few minutes, nothing exists except the heat of the room, his lips on yours and the familiar comfort of being held exactly how you want to be held. Eventually, he pulls back, brushing a thumb along your jaw one last time. “Okay,” he breathes, trying and failing to look composed, “we should actually get ready now.”

You nod but neither of you move until he leans in for one more soft kiss, barely a brush of lips, gentle enough to make your chest tighten. The two of you take turns washing the other off before exiting the shower to finish getting ready.

You brush your teeth beside him while he wipes steam from the mirror. It’s a familiar routine: him toweling off his hair while you lean over the counter to apply moisturizer. His overnight bag sits in the corner, small and a little pathetic-looking, holding only a few shirts and a toothbrush. He’s mentioned wanting a drawer here more than once, half-joking, half-hopeful. You always deflect with something logical like, “You don’t sleep over enough,” and he laughs it off but the truth sits heavy in your chest even now.

The last person who ever had space in your dresser…the last person whose hoodies lived on your chair, whose shirts were folded next to yours, whose medals hung on your desk when his dorm ran out of space…

You shut the thought down before it forms completely.

Jake buttons his shirt next to you, humming softly as he tucks it into his slacks and you force your heartbeat back into the present. “You look beautiful,” he says, straightening your collar with both hands and kissing your cheek. “Ready?”

You nod, stepping into your shoes while he slings his bag over his shoulder. A moment later, he takes your hand gently, squeezing once and the two of you head out the door together.

By the time you make it to the office, the day slips into its usual rhythm. You spend most of the afternoon hunched over your desk, flipping pages and scribbling notes in the quiet hum of the office. It’s not glamorous, not what you used to imagine when you thought about becoming a writer but it’s close enough to feel like you’re still reaching for it. Close enough to keep you here.

At some point, your coworker swings by with a quick, “Happy birthday,” dropping a mini chocolate bar onto your desk before disappearing again. You thank her, a little surprised, turning it over in your fingers before setting it aside.

You check your phone more than you mean to.

A text from Manon, some blurry photo from a rooftop in Paris, miss you, birthday girl!!! followed by a string of hearts.

Another from Jake: Can’t wait for tonight. What kind of cake do you like?

You purse your lips at the question before typing something back but your fingers hover for a second longer than they should before you lock your phone and flip back to the manuscript in front of you.

By the time five o’clock rolls around, you’re gathering your things, slipping your notebook into your bag, the weight of the day settling into your bones. The city greets you with its usual hum: taxis blaring, people rushing, the air thick with late afternoon heat as you make your way down into the subway.

The train ride home is familiar. You stand wedged between strangers, one hand wrapped around the pole as the car lurches forward. You watch your reflection flicker in the window between stops, your mind drifting in and out of nothingness.

By the time you step back into your apartment, the silence greets you again. You move through it easily, showering quickly, changing into something nicer, smoothing out the details until you look like someone who has her life exactly where it’s supposed to be.

At exactly six, your phone buzzes.

jake <3: I’m outside.

You grab your bag, take one last look at yourself in the mirror then head downstairs. Jake is leaning against his car when you step out, a bouquet of flowers in one hand. He straightens the second he sees you, his entire face lighting up. “Wow,” he breathes. “You look…wow.”

You laugh, walking toward him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he echoes, stepping forward to kiss you softly before handing you the flowers. “Happy birthday.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say, genuinely touched as you bring them closer.

“Wait,” he says quickly, reaching into his pocket. “I have one more thing.”

You blink as he pulls out a small, familiar red box. Your stomach dips slightly. “Jake…”

“Just open it,” he insists, smiling.

You hesitate for half a second before flipping it open. Inside sits a delicate gold Cartier bracelet, the light catching against it in a way that makes it sparkle. It’s beautiful no doubt about it but also unmistakably expensive.

For a moment, you don’t say anything. “Do you like it?” he asks, watching your face carefully.

You blink, forcing yourself back into the moment. “Yeah! Yeah, it’s…it’s really beautiful.”

“I saw it and thought of you, something you could wear every day.” He says, stepping closer. “Here, let me.” He adds gently, taking it from the box. “

You hold out your wrist and he fastens it carefully, his fingers brushing your skin as he adjusts it into place. He beams, clearly satisfied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before opening the passenger door for you. “Come on. We’ll be late.”

Dinner goes by smoothly.

His parents greet you like they always do, his mother pulling you into a hug, his father smiling warmly as he asks about work, about writing, about everything you’ve been up to. The restaurant glows softly around you, low lights and quiet chatter filling the space as wine is poured and plates are passed. Conversation flows naturally. You laugh when you’re supposed to, answer questions easily, slip into the rhythm of it all like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

And then—

“Well, I was just telling Jake the other day…it won’t be long before we’re celebrating something even bigger, will it?”  His mother says, setting her glass down with a small smile, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

Your hand stills in his and Jake lets out a small, awkward laugh. “Mom…”

“What? You two are so good together. Anyone can see that.”  She says lightly.

His father chuckles. “Don’t mind her, she’s still upset that your brother eloped.” He turns to face you, “you’re already part of the family, hun.”

You nod automatically, the word family settling somewhere in your chest in a way that feels heavier than it should. “That’s sweet,” you say.

Jake squeezes your hand under the table in reassurance, like this is something good…something to be happy about and it is, it should be.

This is what people want, isn’t it? Warm dinners, parents who already look at you like you belong. A boyfriend who plans ahead, who shows up early with flowers and expensive gifts.

You used to think you wanted this. You still think you do. So why does it feel like you’re sitting just slightly outside of your own life, watching it happen instead of fully living it? You smile when Jake’s mom asks you another question, nodding along, answering without really hearing yourself. The conversation flows around you but your thoughts have already drifted somewhere quieter, somewhere harder to look at.

This isn’t how you imagined twenty-three.

You thought it would be louder, messier. Late nights that bled into early mornings, candles stuck into a store-bought cake at midnight because someone forgot to plan ahead. You thought there would be party-city decorations taped unevenly to the walls, balloons already starting to deflate.

You thought there would be handwritten cards, messy, rushed and filled with inside jokes. Cards that meant more than the gifts themselves.

You’ve spent so long telling yourself this is what you wanted: a life that makes sense, a relationship that feels safe, a future that doesn’t come with question marks attached and now that you’re sitting in the middle of it, surrounded by everything you once thought would make you feel whole, all you can focus on is the quiet, unsettling feeling that something is off.

That maybe wanting something for so long doesn’t mean it’s right when it finally finds you.

Jake squeezes your hand gently, grounding you just enough to pull you back into the moment. “Everything okay?” he asks, his voice low.

You nod too quickly, offering him a smile that feels convincing enough. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

And you almost believe it.

Nothing here is wrong. There’s nothing to point to, nothing to explain why your chest feels this tight, why your thoughts keep drifting just out of reach, why you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something you can’t quite name. So you let the conversation pull you back in, let yourself laugh when you’re supposed to, respond when spoken to, slip back into place like you’ve done all night but the feeling doesn’t go away.

It lingers, a persistent question you’re not ready to answer: why does something you’ve wanted for so long feel so unfamiliar now that you have it?

NYU sophomore year

You don’t realize what time it is until it’s already too late.

Your laptop screen is the only light in the common room, the rest of the floor is quiet. Your fingers move quickly over your keyboard, words spilling out faster than you can second guess them, the story in your head finally taking shape.

Manon had been there at some point, curled up on the couch scrolling through her phone but you barely noticed when she got up. Sohee had said something about grabbing water, or maybe snacks before disappearing. Anton had been sitting across from you, half-watching whatever you were writing, half-doodling in the margins of his notebook. You don’t remember when he left either.

You’re too deep in your fictive world to notice how all your friends have slowly abandoned you until a voice cuts through. “Yo.”

You glance up to see Anton leaning against the doorway, hair slightly messy, hoodie sleeves pushed up his arms. “I think I left my captain’s hoodie in your room,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Can you come check? I don’t wanna just go in there if you’re not—”

“Oh, yeah,” you say immediately, already pushing your chair back. “It’s probably on my desk.”

You follow him down the hall, still half in your story and unaware of the date and time. When you reach your door he lets you walk in first. The second the door opens you’re met with confetti to the face.

“Surprise!”

You jump so hard you almost drop your phone. Streamers fly into your line of vision, balloons bobbing against the ceiling as Manon and Sohee burst out from either side of your room, laughing as they shout over each other. “Happy birthday!”

You blink, completely stunned, your brain scrambling to catch up as you take in the decorations strung haphazardly across your walls, the pile of half-inflated balloons in the corner, the cheap plastic banner taped slightly crooked above your bed.

“Oh my gosh! What!? when did you??” You laugh breathless, pressing a hand to your chest.

“We’ve been planning this all week,” Manon says proudly, already reaching for you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly.

“You were too busy ignoring us, writing your little stories to notice,” Sohee adds, grinning.

“I was not ignoring you!” you protest, laughing as you turn in a slow circle, taking everything in.

Up close, the details start to settle. You notice the fairy lights, finally. They’re strung the same way you always keep them but now they’re lined with polaroids of tiny moments clipped between the wires. You step closer without thinking and reach up to examine one between your fingers.

There’s one from your latest group trip to China town, Sohee had taken it after you had all gotten matcha at a new cafe. There’s another of  you asleep on Anton’s lap, you think it’s from midterms week. One of Anton, taken from further away standing by the pool, hair still wet, turning toward the camera like he didn’t realize he was being watched and then one of all four of you, squeezed together in your dorm room, slightly blurry but unmistakably yours.

“You guys…” you start but your voice trails off.

Behind you, a match strikes. You turn just as Anton leans over a small cake, carefully lighting each candle one by one, tongue pressing lightly against his cheek. The flicker of the flames catches in his eyes as he straightens then he starts to sing. “Happy birthday to you…”

Sohee joins in almost immediately, louder and off-key on purpose and Manon follows right after. Anton steps closer as he sings, holding the cake out toward you, the candles casting a soft light across his face. He’s smiling as he reaches the end. “…happy birthday to you.”

The song ends with laughter and clapping, Sohee whooping loudly while Manon squeezes your arm. Anton just nods toward the candles. “Make a wish.”

For a second, everything fades and all you can think about is this moment, the three people standing around you, the way it feels to be surrounded by something this loving. You wish, simply, that it never changes. That the four of you stay like this, that this…whatever this is, lasts.

You blow out the candles.

“Okay! Cut the cake I’m hungry.” Sohee cheers immediately.

Anton disappears for a second, setting the cake down to grab plates and a plastic knife. When he comes back, he hands you the first slice. You glance down at it, then back up at him. “Wait…this is my favorite!”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “You mentioned it once.”

“When?” You ask.

“During Sohee’s birthday. You were complaining about the flavor.” He says, already cutting another slice.

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “I was not complaining.”

“You were,” Sohee calls from across the room.

You playfully roll your eyes, “yeah well who wants an ice cream cake for their birthday? You can eat ice cream whenever!”

Anton huffs a quiet laugh, handing out the rest of the plates. Manon grabs your arm again before you can think too hard about it, pulling you toward the center of the room. “No more talking. We’re dancing.”

Before you can respond, Sohee is pushing something into your hands, a flimsy plastic sash that reads BIRTHDAY GIRL in glittery letters and Manon is already placing a slightly crooked tiara on your head.

You go along with it, laughing as she spins you around, the tiara slipping slightly and the sash twisting awkwardly across your chest. At some point, you catch Anton watching you from across the room. He’s leaning back against your desk, arms crossed loosely, a half-smile playing at his lips like he’s trying not to laugh at you.

You don’t linger on it. You let yourself get lost in the music and the company of your friends. Grateful to have a found family.

After your birthday, things don’t change. At least not much…not really.

The four of you still move through campus like a unit, still fall into the same routines, the same late-night hangouts and shared meals and crowded study sessions. You still end up in each other’s rooms, still spend weekends bouncing between games and practices and whatever last-minute plans Manon decides are non-negotiable.

Somewhere in the middle of it all though, something shifts…between you and a certain chestnut haired swim captain.

Anton ends up in your room more often, stretched across your bed with his head propped against your pillow while you sit cross-legged beside him, laptop balanced on your thighs. At first there’s always space between you, enough to pretend nothing’s different.

Until there isn’t.

Until one night you realize you're laying down now, shoulder pressed against his, your arm brushing his every time you move, neither of you shifting away. Until another night turns into you curled slightly into his side, his hoodie bunched under your cheek, his breathing slow and steady beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

No one says anything about it.

Lunches start happening without the others. At first it’s accidental, running into each other after his swim practice, both of you starving, deciding to grab something quick before your next class but then it becomes a habit. “Just us,” he’ll say, like it doesn’t mean anything. As if it’s not becoming something.

You wander through the city together, ducking into small places you find on a whim, sharing fries, trading bites, talking about everything and nothing all at once. He listens when you ramble about your stories, asks questions like he actually cares about the plot and fictional worlds you build. You start saving things to tell him.

You don’t realize you’re doing it until it’s impossible to ignore. Late nights turn into later ones. Text messages that stretch past midnight, then one, then two, until your phone is the last thing you see before you fall asleep and the first thing you reach for when you wake up. Your 8AM classes become harder to sit through, your focus slipping in and out because you’re thinking about something he said hours ago, replaying it without meaning to.

“Why are you smiling at your phone like that?” Manon asks once, eyeing you from across the room.

“I’m not,” you say too quickly, locking your screen.

She hums unconvinced but lets it go. You start doing that more than you’d like to admit, shrugging things off, brushing past questions, lying to your friends…to yourself.

You tell yourself it’s nothing, that when you choose to sit next to him instead of across from him, when your knees brush under the table and neither of you move that it’s platonic. You tell yourself that when people start to notice.

“You two are always together,” Sohee says one night, not accusing, just observant.

“We’re literally all always together,” you shoot back, a little too fast. Manon glances between the two of you, something knowing flickering across her face before she looks away.

You laugh it off. You tell yourself it’s easier that way because nothing happens. There are no confessions, no grand moments you can point to and say that’s where it changed. No one crosses a line that can’t be uncrossed. If anything, the two of you become experts at hovering just beneath it, circling something unspoken and pretending it isn’t there.

You let it, whatever it is, exist in that in-between space. Until it’s everywhere. Until it’s the first person you look for in a room and the last person you say goodnight to. Until it’s his hoodie thrown over your chair, his water bottle sitting next to yours, his name lighting up your phone more than anyone else’s.

It's not until you're packing up to go home for summer break do you realize the cold hard truth: you've fallen for Anton Lee and you have no idea what to do about it.

Present Day

It’s been a week since your birthday and dinner with Jake’s parents. Manon is back, the apartment finally feeling like itself. She has music low in the background as she sits cross-legged on the living room floor with her laptop open, clips from Paris flashing across the screen as she edits.

You’re in your room, standing in front of your mirror, finishing your makeup while Jake lingers behind you. Today is date night. He’s already ready, button-down crisp, sleeves rolled slightly and watch fastened neatly at his wrist. He’s been watching you for the past few minutes, leaning against your dresser patiently waiting on you. “You almost done?” he asks.

“Almost…two seconds.” You say, leaning in to swipe mascara across your lashes. 

“Mm,” he hums, pushing himself off the dresser. You don’t notice when he starts moving around your room, his attention drifting to the little things you’ve left out, your books stacked unevenly on your desk, the loose papers of your novel you edit at night, the memory box that sits in between your bed and night stand.

It’s tucked just slightly out of place, the lid not fully closed from the last time you went through it. Jake pauses, glancing toward you for a second before crouching down, curiosity getting the better of him. You’re still focused on your reflection when he lifts the lid.

Jake smiles faintly when he finds the box filled with letters and polaroid. He starts flipping through the pictures one by one; Manon mid-laugh, Sohee mewing at the camera, a blurry shot of what looks like a dorm hallway. He keeps shuffling through them until he comes across a picture of you and a man he’s never seen before.

“Babe. Who’s this?”  He calls, turning the photo slightly in his hand. 

You turn just enough to see what he’s holding and your stomach drops. It’s you after Anton’s swim comp wrapped in his captain's hoodie while he stands beside you, medal hanging from his neck and arm slung loosely around your shoulders.

You move before you can think about it. “Jake!” you cross the room quickly, faster than you mean to, snatching the photo and the box from his hands in one motion. “Why are you going through my stuff!?”

Jake blinks, thrown off, hands lifting slightly in defense. “Woah! I wasn’t…I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Well, it is,” you say, a little sharper than you intended, already setting the box aside like putting distance between it and him will fix something.

Jake exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Okay…I’m sorry. I just…I saw it and I got curious.”

You don’t respond right away, turning back to your mirror. Jake watches you for a second then asks. “Who is he?”

Your grip tightens around your makeup brush. “No one,” you say coldly.

Jake lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “He doesn’t look like no one.”

You don’t answer. “Is he an ex?” he presses.

You cringe before you can stop yourself. “Can you just…drop it please? I said it’s nothing, Jake.”

He frowns, something frustrated flickering across his face now. “I’ve told you about all my exes. Why are you hiding this?” He says, a little more pointed.

You open your mouth and then close it because what are you supposed to say? Anton wasn’t an ex but he also wasn’t someone who meant nothing. Whatever it was that the two of you shared existed in the realm of what if’s and dreams.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you say finally but it comes out weaker than you intend.

Jake studies you, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Then explain it.”

You let out a quiet breath and set your makeup brush down. “There’s nothing to explain. He was just…someone from school.”

“Just someone?” Jake echoes, glancing toward the box you shoved aside. “You’re clearly wearing his hoodie and he’s got his arm around you like…like that’s normal!”

“It was normal. We were friends.” You snap, more defensive now.

The word hangs there, thin and unconvincing, even to your own ears. Jake doesn’t respond right away. He just watches you, his expression shifting from confusion to frustration like he’s trying to understand what you’re not saying just as much as what you are.

“Okay. I’m just gonna be blunt.” he says after a moment. Your stomach drops. “Do you have feelings for him?”

You freeze for half a second, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror, eyes just a little too wide, lips parted like you might actually answer him honestly and for the briefest moment, you consider it. You consider turning around, saying I don’t know or it’s complicated or something real but the truth is messy. The truth doesn’t make sense. The truth would ruin the life you’ve built these two years away from Anton so instead you laugh.

It comes out light and dismissive. “That’s…not even possible,” you say, shaking your head as you turn back to the mirror, picking up your makeup brush. “You can’t have feelings for someone you never even dated. That’s just…” you shrug slightly, meeting his eyes through the reflection, “...dumb.”

Even as it leaves your mouth, something inside you recoils. Still, you don’t take it back. You let the lie sit there between you. You add it to the long list of lies you’ve told. Jake watches you for a few seconds longer, trying to decide if he believes you or not. His gaze lingers, searching your face for any signs of hesitation. You don’t give him anything.

Eventually, he exhales. “…okay,” he says quietly.

He glances at his watch then back at you. “We should go. We’re gonna miss our reservation.”

You nod quickly, grateful for the out. “Yeah.”

You set your brush down and reach for your bag before following him out. You catch Manon’s eyes on your way out and there’s no doubt she heard your conversation. The frown she gives you on your exit speaks volumes.

NYU junior year

You don’t remember who pulled who into the room first. All you know is the music is louder out there but here it’s quieter. Anton’s mouth is already on yours, wasting no time the second the door shuts behind you.

The kiss is messy and rushed. You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s backing you up, hands firm at your waist as you stumble together, bumping into the edge of the bed. You laugh softly against his lips, breathless. “The door’s not even locked,” you murmur, glancing over his shoulder for half a second. “Someone could walk in.”

Anton doesn’t pull away, if anything he leans in closer, mouth dragging from your lips to your jaw then lower. “Let them,” he murmurs against your skin like the idea doesn’t bother him at all.

You huff out a quiet laugh, fingers sliding into his hair, tugging lightly just to hear the soft exhale it pulls from him. “You’re insane.”

“Insane about you.” He rebuttals.

His hands skim up your sides as your back hits the mattress as he follows you down and lays his body weight atop you. The room tilts slightly as you turn your head. The window is cracked open just enough to let the cool night air slip in, you can see the city lights flickering somewhere in the distance and all you can think about is how different this is. How far this feels from where you were just a few months ago.

Over the summer, you’d convinced yourself distance would fix it. Back home, surrounded by everything that came before NYU, it was easier to pretend. Easier to ignore the way your phone lit up with his name, easier to let texts sit unanswered a little longer than they should then a little longer after that. You told yourself it was space, that it was necessary. That whatever had started to grow between you at the end of sophomore year would fade if you just…stopped feeding it.

For a while, it almost worked. By the time you came back in the fall, you thought maybe the awkwardness would carry over, that things would feel different but Anton didn’t act like anything had changed. He showed up the same way he always did. Bright smiles, casual touches, sitting a little too close like he always had so you followed his lead.

You laughed like nothing had happened and slipped back into your routines. You ignored the way your chest tightened every time your hands brushed or when he said your name with reverence. You were able to keep it up until December.

The four of you had stumbled into a crowded frat house on a Thursday night. You’d gotten separated from Manon and Sohee somewhere between the kitchen and the stairs, weaving your way through strangers until you ended up by the makeshift bar.

You got to work on making yourself a drink when one of the football players approached you. It started the way those things always do: small talk, a drink pressed into your hand, someone leaning a little closer to hear you over the music.

There was no pressure behind it, no second layer to peel back and analyze. You took a sip of your drink and batted your lashes up at him. You opened your mouth to ask if he wanted to go somewhere more private only to be stopped by a hand wrapping around your waist.

Your entire body reacted before your mind had a chance to catch up, breath catching sharply. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was. You knew the weight of his hand, the way his thumb slips under your shirt and rubs slow circles along your v-line.

“Hey baby,” he said over your shoulder.

You malfunctioned at the pet name while the footballer glanced between the two of you, something in his expression shifting. “Oh…are you…?”

“Yes,” Anton said, cutting in before he could finish.

You turned then, finally looking at him, your brows pulled together in confusion. You opened your mouth to question it, to push back but he was already moving. His grip wasn’t tight but it was possessive enough that you followed without thinking, letting him guide you through the crowd towards an empty hallway.

“Anton what was that!?”

He shrugged before letting you go. “I didn’t like it.”

You stared at him, trying to understand what that meant. “Didn’t like what?”

He clenched his jaw before responding. “All of it. The way he was flirting with you, looking at you. I didn’t like it.”

Your breath caught yet again but you tried to compose yourself. “Okay…but that doesn’t mean you can just…what, pretend I’m your girlfriend?” You said slowly, trying to keep your voice steady.

He huffed a quiet laugh at that, shaking his head like you were missing the point. “Why are we still doing this?” he asked suddenly.

Your stomach dropped. “Doing what?”

“This,” he said gesturing vaguely between you, frustration bleeding through. “Pretending like nothing’s here.”

You blinked, your thoughts scrambling to catch up.

“I gave you space. All summer I let you pull away and I didn’t push, I didn’t ask questions and when we got back, I played along. I acted like it was fine.”

The words hit harder than they should. Maybe it was because he was right. You did feel it, you had always felt it. You had just been better at pretending you didn’t.

“Anton…” you started but it came out quieter than you intended.

He stepped closer closing the distance just enough to make your breath catch again but he didn't touch you. “When are we going to stop acting like this is nothing?” he had asked.

That night ended the way it probably shouldn’t have. With your back pressed against the cold tile of a frat house bathroom, your hands tangled in his hair as you kissed him like you were trying to make up for every moment you didn’t.

You’re pulled back to the present when Anton’s mouth dips lower and he leaves open mouthed kisses across your stomach. You sigh at the feeling of his tongue dragging across your skin before letting your right hand drop to his head to tug at his hair, relishing in the whimpers he releases.

You smirk at the hold you have on him, literally and metaphorically. You tug a bit harder when he leaves a kiss below your navel right above the button of your mini skirt. Before he can go any further, you tilt his head up to look you in your eyes.

You take delight in the way he obeys but your satisfaction is snubbed out by the reminder of what led the two of you to this room. “Who was that girl?”

Anton’s brows lift slightly like he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. “What girl?” he asks, voice calm.

You narrow your eyes at him, unimpressed. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he presses, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s fighting a smile.

You let out a quiet scoff, your hand slipping from his hair as he shifts, sliding off you and settling beside you on the bed. The sudden space between you feels wrong immediately. You turn toward him without thinking and climb right back into his space, swinging a leg over his lap to straddle him. His hands automatically go to grip your waist and pull you in closer, bucking his hips a bit.

“I’m talking about the girl downstairs. The one who was following you like a lost puppy.” You say more direct now.

Anton exhales softly through his nose and grips your hips a bit tighter. “She wasn’t following me like a puppy,” he says, still playing it off.

You tilt your head, studying him. “Really?”

He shrugs but he doesn’t look away from you. “She’s no one.”

“That’s not what it looked like.” Your fingers press a little more firmly into his shoulder from frustration and jealousy.

“Why do you care?” he asks quietly, rolling his hips below you to create friction. You falter for half a second from the weight behind the question and your growing arousal.

“I don’t,” you say quickly, your gaze flicking away for just a moment before returning to him. “I’m just asking.”

He hums unconvinced, his right hand sliding a little higher on your hips, holding you there a bit more firmly now. “She’s just some girl Sohee was trying to set me up with,” he says, watching your face carefully.

Your expression tightens before you can stop it, something like a scowl flickering across your face as your fingers curl slightly against his shoulders. “Oh,” you say but there’s nothing neutral about it. You lean in before you can think too hard about it, kissing him again, harder this time. Anton moans against your mouth and kisses back with equal fervor, almost whining when you pull back.

“I don’t like that.” You murmur against his lips, shaking your head slightly.

Anton lets out a quiet breath, his grip on you tightening as he leans up to chase your lips. “She doesn’t matter. I promise.”  He says, the words brushing against your mouth.

His forehead bumps yours for a second, his gaze lingering like he’s waiting to see if you’ll push again, if you’ll question it, if you’ll admit why you even asked in the first place.

Instead you push him back to tug his shirt off and set off on laying kisses along the column of his neck and chest. Making sure to leave behind angry red bruises that show he’s off limits.

That’s how it goes with the two of you. Tonight it’s a girl downstairs, someone neither of you care about until suddenly you do. Yesterday it was the way Anton’s jaw tightened when your hand lingered a second too long on your partner during workshop, his quiet mood lasting the rest of the night until you finally snapped and asked what his problem was. Next week, it’ll be something else entirely.

It always is. You push, he pulls. He pulls, you push harder. Neither of you willing to step back far enough to end it, neither of you brave enough to step forward and call it what it is.

With spring break coming up, you only pray a change of scenery is enough to give the two of you some reprieve.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Seven days later

The ocean stretches out in front of you, endless and blue. Manon is beside you, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, already halfway through her third drink like she’s trying to make the most of the “unlimited” part of the resort package. You’re stretched out on your stomach, book open in front of you while Sohee and Anton ride jetskis in the clear blue water.

Spring break had been Manon’s idea. It started over winter break with a facetime call. She had been pushing for a cabin trip at first but Sohee and Anton were doing a cruise and your parents had planned a last minute family trip and suddenly the whole thing unraveled before it ever really came together. Manon had sulked for all of ten minutes before pivoting completely.

She proposed spring break in Cancun. Next thing you knew, you were booking an all-inclusive resort in Cancun, splitting costs and promising it would be fun.

It’s day three of five now and so far it’s been exactly what you expected. You’ve drank more than your liver can probably handle, eaten so much food to the point of expanding your stomachs and backs and the four of you have spent hours in the water with salt drying into your skin.

Somewhere in between all of it, you and Anton had smoothed over whatever that moment at the party had been but things haven’t exactly gone back to normal either. You think it’s all the sexual tension floating around the two of you. All four of you share a room, Anton and Sohee on one bed, you and Manon on the other. It’s hard to sneak away and get alone time. You’ve resorted to living vicariously through the characters in your books you packed.

Manon lets out a satisfied sigh beside you, tipping the last of her piña colada back before setting the empty glass in the sand. “Okay…I’m gonna go get us more drinks before they try to cut me off.” She announces, pushing herself up with a little wobble.

You snort, lowering your book just enough to glance at her. “You’re already pushing it.”

She waves you off like it’s nothing, already brushing sand from her legs and adjusting her bikini straps. “They love me,” she insists, flashing you a grin before turning toward the bar.

You watch her go, eyes narrowing slightly as she weaves her way across the sand, pausing once to steady herself before continuing on like nothing happened. Shaking your head, you let out a quiet sigh and settle back down, turning your attention to your book again. The pages of The Nightingale blur slightly in the bright sun but you try to focus anyway, letting the words pull you somewhere else.

You only make it a few lines in before something bumps lightly against your foot. You blink, glancing down to find a volleyball resting against your ankle, grains of sand clinging to its surface. “Sorry!” a voice calls from a few feet away.

You look up to see a guy jogging toward you, slowing as he gets closer. He lifts a hand in a small, almost shy wave, offering you an apologetic smile as he comes to a stop. “Didn’t mean to interrupt…uh that kind of rolled away from us.” He gestures back toward the makeshift volleyball court set up a little further down the beach, a few people still standing there watching.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, brushing sand from your forearm before reaching down to pick up the ball. “You’re good,” you say, offering it back to him.

He steps closer to take it, fingers brushing yours for a brief second. “Thanks…what’re you reading?” He asks, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

You glance down at the cover, holding it up slightly. “The Nightingale.”

He nods like he recognizes it, you’re not entirely convinced he does. “Is it good?”

You shrug lightly. “So far.”

He smiles at that. “I was gonna say, you look pretty into it.”

You huff a quiet laugh, closing it partway. “I was, until your game attacked me.”

He laughs, scratching the back of his neck. “Can…can I buy you a drink? As an apology.”

You hesitate for half a second, your instinct to say no rising automatically but it stalls before it reaches your mouth because what would you even say? “No, I can't, because there’s a boy on a jetski somewhere who gets jealous even though we’re not together?”

Before you can figure out how to turn him down politely, movement catches in your peripheral. Manon is making her way back across the sand, two drinks balanced in her hands, her sunglasses now crooked on her face. In front of you, Sohee and Anton are just stepping off their jetskis, laughing about something as they walk toward you.

Your stomach tightens. The timing is almost cruel. “Actually, I—” you start, already half-turning toward Manon, ready to use her as an out.

“Oh perfect,” Manon cuts in easily as she reaches you, not missing a beat as her eyes flick between you and the guy in front of you. “This one’s for Sohee,” she says, pressing one of the drinks into his hands the second he gets close. Sohee takes it without question, too busy thanking her to notice anything else.

You fight the urge to jump her. You have to remind yourself she has good intentions. You turn back to the stranger, forcing your expression into something kinder. “Yeah…um one drink is fine.”

Your eyes flick over to Anton but he lets nothing slip. He pushes his hair away from his forehead and laughs at a joke Sohee makes before settling down in the sand next to Manon.

“Cool, c’mon.” The stranger says, smiling a little wider now that you’ve agreed. He offers you his hand and you take it, dusting off sand from your stomach and thighs. You adjust your bikini straps before following after him.

Anton doesn’t look your way again.

The walk to the bar is short but it feels longer. The music gets louder the closer you get, you spot people crowded around the counter sipping on colorful drinks. The stranger introduces himself somewhere along the way, says his name is James. You tell him your name before settling against a free spot at the bar.

He leans forward slightly, catching the bartender’s attention. “Two tequila shots please.”

The glasses slide across the counter a second later, salt clinging to the rims. He picks one up and hands it to you, fingers brushing yours again. “To spring break,” he says with a grin.

You force a small smile, lifting your glass to meet his. “To spring break.”

He starts talking again, something about where he’s from, how long he’s been here but your attention drifts before you can stop it. Back toward the beach where Anton is perched in the sand soaking up the sun.

It makes your skin itch how unaffected he seems. Makes you feel dramatic for the reaction you had at the party. You wonder if he even cares, if whatever this is only feels like something more when you’re alone with him.

You swallow, the taste of tequila still lingering, suddenly too aware of everything.  “I’m sorry. I think I’m actually gonna go lie down. I’m not feeling great.”

James pauses, clearly thrown off but he recovers quickly. “Oh…yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.” You nod, already stepping back.

He hesitates for a second like he wants to say more but then smiles. “Okay. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

You nod once. “Yeah…maybe.”

You don’t wait for anything else. You don’t grab your things or call out to Manon or wait for anyone to notice you’re gone. You just turn and walk, the sound of the ocean fading behind you with every step, replaced by the quiet of the hotel lobby as you push through the glass doors. The air conditioning hits your skin but it does nothing to cool the burning embarrassment building under it.

You make your way to the elevators without thinking, pressing the button and crossing your arms over yourself as you wait, your reflection staring back at you in the mirrored walls. The doors slide open and you step inside, pressing your floor and exhaling slowly. Just as the doors begin to shut, a hand catches them. They part again with a soft chime and Anton steps in.

The space shrinks immediately. You don’t say anything at first and neither does he. The doors close behind him and the elevator starts to move, the elevator music filling the silence between you.

For a second, you think about staying quiet and letting it pass. Letting this be just another thing that goes unspoken but the question comes out anyway. “Do you even care about me?”

Anton turns his head slightly, brows pulling together. “What?”

You shake your head immediately, already regretting it. “Never mind.”

The elevator climbs another floor. He waits a beat before speaking again, his voice deeper this time. “You looked pretty cozy at the bar.”

You turn to face him fully but he’s not looking at you. His gaze is fixed straight ahead, jaw set. You let out a small, disbelieving scoff. “So you can flirt with whoever Sohee throws at you but God forbid I let a guy buy me a drink?”

Anton exhales sharply, rolling his eyes. “Why are you bringing her up again? I told you she means nothing!”

“It’s the principle! You don’t get to act like that when you do the same thing. That's called hypocrisy Anton.” You shoot back, frustration rising now, pushing past whatever hesitation you had before.

“It’s not the same thing!” he snaps, finally turning toward you. “You’re the one who said we can’t tell anyone. What am I supposed to say to Sohee when he tries to set me up with someone? Huh? What was I supposed to say after the party about the hickies you left on my neck? You can’t get pissed at me for a boundary you insist on keeping!”

You falter at him throwing your rules back at you. You hate how he’s right, how you can’t come up with a logical and fair defense in response to instead you reach for the one thing that always gives you distance. “This is dumb. We’re not even together.”

The elevator dings softly as it reaches your floor. The doors slide open and you step out automatically, expecting him to follow, already bracing for the argument to continue the way it always does, looping back in on itself until one of you gives in.

However, when you turn around he hasn’t moved. He’s still standing inside, one hand braced against the railing, looking at you like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time. There’s something in his expression that makes your chest tighten.

He looks hurt. Genuinely hurt. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet.

“Then let’s end whatever this is.”

Present Day

As the waves of pleasure finally begin to subside, you find yourself tangled between Jake’s arms and your sheets. Both your breaths mingle in the warm air and Jake wraps his arms securely around you, holding you close as his heartbeat gradually slows. You can feel the aftershocks of your climax coursing through you as your eyes slowly shut.

One of his hands is lazily tracing over yours, turning your palm up and brushing along your fingers. “I’m never gonna get tired of this,” he murmurs, more to himself than anything.

You huff out a quiet laugh, the corner of your mouth lifting into a smirk. “Mhmm, good I’ve got some more tricks up my sleeve.”

Jake lets out a groan, “Such a fucking tease.”

You laugh and open your mouth to retort but get cut off by the door swinging open. “Hey, do you have a—oh.”

Manon freezes mid-step, one hand still on the door, her eyes flicking from Jake to you tangled together in your bed. “Shit! Sorry! My fault!”

The door shuts just as quickly as it opened. You groan instantly, dragging your blanket up over your head like it might erase the last ten seconds. “Oh my gosh.”

Jake lets out a quiet laugh above you, chest rumbling against your cheek. “She definitely saw everything.”

“Stop. I can never leave this room again.” You mumble from under the covers, mortified, pulling them tighter around yourself.

He hums in agreement but his fingers hook into the edge of the blanket, tugging it down slowly until your face reappears. “Yeahhhh,” he says, amused, brushing your cheek. “That was…a little embarrassing.”

You narrow your eyes at him but there’s no real bite behind it. “How reassuring.”

He smirks in response before shrugging a shoulder. You try to hold onto the annoyance but it dissolves into a laugh as you let the blanket fall back to your chest. For a moment, neither of you say anything. His thumb finds your hand again, tracing the same absent pattern across your fingers. After a beat he speaks up again.

“You know…this could be avoided.”

You peek up at him, brows pulling together. “How?” you ask, still half-curled into him. “Our lease isn't ending anytime soon and Manon’s had a lifelong aversion to knocking.”

He smiles faintly at that but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. His thumb pauses against your hand for a second before continuing. “Well…what if you moved?”

You blink, your mind struggling to catch his drift “Moved where?”

He shifts a little beneath you, propping himself up just enough to look at you properly. “To my place.”

You stare at him for a second longer than you mean to, your mind catching up in pieces. “Your…place?” you repeat, slower this time.

“Yeah. I mean…it just makes sense, right? We’re already spending most nights together anyway.” He gestures vaguely around your room, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And no surprise interruptions.”

You let out a soft breath that almost sounds like a laugh but it doesn’t quite land. Your mind starts racing as you struggle to piece together where this is coming from. Realistically, this isn’t a crazy thing to bring up, this is the kind of thing people do. The kind of next step that fits neatly into the version of a relationship the two of you have.

You just hadn’t…thought about it…with him.

“Jake…” you start but your words die on the tip of your tongue. You push yourself up slightly so you’re not completely folded into him anymore and try again. “I feel like that’s…kind of a big step.”

He nods, like he expected that. “It is but we’ve been together for a year. It’s not like this is coming out of nowhere.”

Your gaze drifts for a second. His penthouse flashes through your mind; clean, quiet, perfectly put together. You’ve been there enough to know it’s nice…really nice. It doesn’t feel like a place you belong or could call home. “I just think…maybe we don’t have to rush it?” You say slowly, choosing your words carefully.

The second the words leave your mouth, you feel the shift. Jake’s hand stills against yours for half a beat before he lets it relax again. “Rush it?” he repeats.

You shake your head quickly, pushing yourself up a little more, tucking your blanket around you some more. “Okay maybe not rush, I just…” you exhale softly, searching for something that sounds right. “I like where we are right now. I don’t think we have to…change it yet.”

He watches you for a second, weighing what you’re saying. His thumb brushes over your knuckles again but the movement feels more less sure now. “I’m not trying to rush you. Just thought…we were on the same page.”

You nod, trying to offer him a reassuring smile. “We are,” you say, even though something in your chest tightens as you do.

He nods back, like he’s choosing to believe you. “Okay,” he murmurs.

NYU senior year

The summer after junior year, Anton Lee disappeared from your life.

Not all at once but rather slowly, as if he intended to hurt you the way you had hurt him. His texts came later and later until they eventually stopped altogether, conversations never got picked back up and there was a loud silence that filled in the blanks for you. This wasn’t temporary.

You tried to hide behind your ego, told yourself that it made sense. Said that after everything that had happened between the two of you, maybe this is how it was always meant to end.

When the line had been drawn as clear as could be, you filled your time with other things. You still talked to Sohee and Manon, spent hours writing in your room about a perfect world where things worked out for your main characters.

You convinced yourself you were fine. Better off even without Anton. It was easy to think that way when he wasn’t standing right in front of you. Then September came and with it, the last semester the two of you would ever share again.

Just like that, he was back. It dawned on you that it was just as easy for Anton to delude himself when you weren’t standing directly in front of him, when the two of you weren’t sitting side by side pretending nothing ever happened between the two of you in front of your friends.

Like clockwork, you fell back into your familiar pattern. Only this time, the Anton you had grown to love wasn’t the one who came back to you. You think you lost that version somewhere in Cancun.

This time around, you thought it couldn’t be as bad as junior year…how wrong you were.

This time, neither of you cared to pretend. Gone was the sneaking around, no more stolen moments hidden behind closed doors. Whatever this was between you existed out in the open now. Unlabeled and undefined but impossible to miss.

Parties turned into something else entirely. What used to be fun, loud nights with your friends became a game the two of you never agreed to but always ended up playing anyway. How far can you push before the other snaps? How much can you get away with before it finally crosses a line?

Anton started it more often than not. He’d lean a little too close to someone else, let his hand linger just long enough for you to notice, sometimes even going as far as taking them upstairs. They’d disappear for a few minutes, never long enough to confirm anything but never short enough to ignore. It was never enough to call him out without sounding crazy but it was always enough to make burning hot jealousy rip through your chest.

When you would finally corner him and ask him what the hell he was doing, he’d only smirk before asking. “Why do you care?” It would be followed by a condescending hum and, “We’re not even together.”

He would throw it right back at you. The same words you used first, the same ones you threw at him in Cancun. You would sneer at him before stomping off, your pride fully kicked in. You would find someone of your own, someone easy. You would let him talk to you, let him get you drinks, let yourself be seen with him just long enough to prove a point you didn’t even fully believe in.

It would work for all of an hour before your attention would start to drift back to Anton. All he would ever do is give you one look and suddenly nothing else mattered. You’d make some excuse, slip away and leave whoever you were with standing there confused while you found your way back to him like you always did.

Manon tried, truly, to get you to have some self-respect. She would set you up with people she thought were easier and healthier. You’d go along with it at first to humor her. You’d exchange numbers, let conversations start only to lose interest almost immediately. Your replies got shorter then slower, until eventually they stopped altogether. It never made it past that.

From what you heard from Manon, Sohee tried too. He pulled Anton aside more than once, told him he wasn’t being fair, that maybe he should date outside of the friend group, give someone else a real chance only to be told, “We both know what we’re doing.”

Eventually, they both stopped pushing. Not because they approved but because they realized nothing they said was going to change it because as much as the two of you didn’t work like this, you still worked everywhere else.

Anton still walked you back to your dorm after late lectures, hands tucked into his pockets while the two of you talked about nothing and everything all at once. He still bought you lunch when you forgot your student ID, didn’t even let you argue about it. You still showed up to his swim meets with posters you’d spent too long making, shouting his name like you were born to cheer him on.

You still sat together at family dinner with Manon and Sohee, still laughed at the same jokes, still fell into each other on the couch during movie nights like it was muscle memory.

You’re good at that part…too good and that’s what made it worse.

Manon and Sohee didn’t understand it. They couldn’t figure out how the two of you fit so easily everywhere else, how you could be this…effortless together, only for everything to fall apart the second it turned into something more.

But you know why and so does Anton.

Neither of you said it out loud but it lingered in every argument, every glance and every moment where one of you almost gave in and the other refused to meet you there.

He hasn’t forgiven you for Cancun. Maybe even how you treated him leading up to your fight. He’s still holding on to how easily you turned off your emotions when others were around, how quick you were to deny him the chance of ever being more than a dirty little secret.

As for you, you’re too proud to fix it first. It’s humiliating enough knowing how thoroughly he’s ruined everyone else for you.

So you don’t cave, even when it’s the only thing you want to.

To your relief, somewhere along the way the two of you stop fighting as much. Not because anything gets resolved or because either of you finally says the thing you’ve been circling for two years now but because there’s nothing left to argue about that hasn’t already been said in a hundred and one different ways. You think it’s because he didn’t want to be on bad terms during graduation.

The last few weeks fly by, it’s easy to not notice time slipping away from you when things are as easy as they once were freshman year.

Today is commencement.

Just like that, the last four years of your life collapse into a single moment. You’ve imagined this day a hundred different ways but none of them feel quite like this. None of them capture how quickly it slips through your fingers.

One minute you’re walking across the stage, heart pounding, the announcer calling your name, next it’s over. Your tassel is turned, people are clapping, caps are already being tossed into the air before you’ve even had the chance to process it.

It all blurs together.

The months of deadlines, the nights spent hunched over your laptop swearing you’d start earlier next time, the early mornings you dragged yourself out of bed for classes you almost skipped, the crowded study rooms, the shared meals, the laughter—it all collapses into this one fleeting stretch of time that feels both too fast and impossibly long.

No more classes to rush to. No more last-minute submissions or group chats blowing up at two in the morning. No more of this.

You barely have time to sit with that realization before you’re being pulled in every direction. Pictures with your friends, your family, your professors. Someone is fixing your cap, someone else is calling your name, your phone is buzzing endlessly in your hand. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

By the time your parents decide you’ve taken enough pictures and accepted more gifts than your arms are capable of holding, you find yourself sitting at a long table surrounded by the people who made these last four years what they were.

Come six o’clock, you’re tucked into your seat beside Manon and her sister, your cap and gown long forgotten in your dads car. Across from you, Sohee is mid story with your dad, hands moving animatedly as he recounts something from freshman year.

Beside him sits Anton. He sits a little more relaxed than usual, one arm draped over the back of Sohee’s chair, a small smile tugging at his lips as he listens. Every now and then he chimes in, correcting Sohee or adding details that make the story even funnier and it’s so normal.

Eventually, plates empty and conversations start to taper off. You push your chair back softly, leaning toward Manon. “I’m gonna step outside for a second,” you murmur.

She nods without question, too caught up in whatever story Sohee’s telling now to look too closely. You slip out quietly, the noise of the restaurant fading behind you as the evening air hits your skin, cooler now.

You exhale slowly, stepping just far enough from the entrance to give yourself space, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses muffled behind you. For a moment, it’s just you and the quiet hum of the city.

The door opens again and you don’t have to turn around to know it’s him.

Anton steps out beside you, he doesn’t say anything right away, just shrugs his suit jacket off his shoulders and holds it out toward you. “Here,” he says softly.

You hesitate for half a second before taking it, the fabric still warm from him as you slide your arms through the sleeves. It’s too big, swallowing you just slightly, the faint scent of his cologne settling around you.

“Thanks,” you murmur, pulling it closer around yourself.

He nods once, hands slipping into his pockets as he leans back against the wall beside you.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. Anton shifts slightly beside you before breaking it. “You wanna go for a walk?” he asks.

You glance over at him, really looking at him for the first time since you stepped outside. His hair is slightly out of place from the day, his tie loosened just enough to make him look less put together.

“Yeah,” you say, softer than you mean to.

He pushes off the wall and falls into step beside you, his arm brushes up against you but neither of you say anything or move away. You walk without a destination at first, letting your feet carry you down familiar streets, past places that have become second nature over the last four years. Neither of you rushes to fill the silence and for once, it doesn’t feel like something that needs fixing.

Eventually, without either of you meaning to, you find yourselves standing before your dorm. The place where everything started. You let out a small breath, something soft and almost disbelieving as you take it in. The windows are dark now, the halls inside probably already half empty with everyone moving out.

“Wow,” you murmur, more to yourself than anything.

Anton huffs a quiet laugh beside you. “How fitting.”

There’s another pause. You glance at the entrance, then back at him. “Do you wanna go in?” you ask.

The words hang between you. Anton’s gaze flicks from you to the building and back again. For a second, you think he might say no. Instead, he surprises you and nods. “Yeah,” he says quietly.

You barely have time to register his words before he’s putting in the building code and pulling the door open for you.

Inside, everything feels different. The lobby that once buzzed with voices and movement now sits in a strange, hollow quiet. A few stray boxes are stacked near the walls, abandoned or waiting to be taken, and the fluorescent lights hum faintly overhead.

It’s like stepping into a memory that’s already started to fade. You walk further in first, your eyes drifting over everything like you’re trying to hold onto it. The couches where you and Manon used to sit for hours, the corner where Sohee would pace while practicing, the hallway that always smelled faintly like burnt popcorn no matter the time of day.

“Feels weird,” you murmur.

“Yeah,” Anton agrees quietly, falling into step beside you.

Your feet carry you on their own. Down the hall. Past doors left ajar, rooms half-empty, beds stripped down to their frames. The place that once felt too small for all the life inside it now feels too big without it.

By the time you stop, you’re standing in front of a door you’ve walked through more times than you can count. Anton’s old domr. He hesitates for just a second before pushing it open.

The room is almost empty. His side of the room is stripped down completely, mattress bare, desk cleared, shelves wiped clean like he was never there at all. Sohee’s side looks the same. The only thing left is what couldn’t be taken yet, suitcases by the wall, a few stray items waiting to be packed last.

It shouldn’t feel like a punch to the chest but it does. You step inside slowly, your gaze dragging over the space where you’ve spent so many nights cuddled in Anton’s arms.

“Damn,” you breathe, arms crossing loosely over yourself, still wrapped in his jacket.

Anton shuts the door behind you, quieter this time. “Yeah.”

The silence stretches again, heavier now. There’s nowhere to sit except the bed so that’s where you perch yourselves. You lower yourself onto the bare mattress, the springs creaking softly under your weight. He follows a second later, sitting beside you but not too close.

You take in the room again, noting the way things have changed over four years.

“I hated this year,” you admit after a beat.

Anton stills beside you but you continue. You swallow, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his jacket. “Not…the school year itself…just—” you shake your head faintly, searching for the right words. “Us.”

You let out a small, humorless breath. “I hated knowing I lost you before we even got back in the fall. The silence over the summer, the way everything after that just felt like we were…punishing each other.”

Anton exhales slowly, his gaze dropping to his hands. “You think I didn’t hate it too?” 

You glance at him. “I hated all of it. You think I wanted that? I wanted to be with you.” He shakes his head slightly. “Every time I got close, every time I chose you…you pulled away.”

Your chest tightens. “I didn’t—” you start but the words fall apart before you finish your sentence. He’s right, you always chose to avoid him, from sophomore year when you realized you were falling all the way up to junior year after he confessed. He picked you yet you made it nearly impossible for him to stay with all the rules you set, the way you kept him hidden but would burn with fury when anyone else tried to fill your place beside him.

The truth sits there between you, ugly and unavoidable.

“It’s not too late,” Anton says quietly as you sit in your discomfort.

There’s no teasing in his expression now, no deflection, no pride. “We don’t have to keep doing it like that. We could…actually try.” He adds, softer now.

For a second, you let yourself imagine it. What that would look like. What it would feel like to finally stop fighting it, to call it what it is, to choose each other without all the conditions and rules and distance you’ve spent the last two years hiding behind.

Just as quickly though, reality comes crashing down. Every fight, every misstep, every moment where one of you reached and the other pulled away. Two years worth of proof, the two of you star crossed lovers destined to fail from the moment he showed up in front of your dorm and offered to help you build your bookshelf. You know how this ends.

Your gaze drops, your fingers smoothing over the edge of the mattress like it might ground you. “Sohee told me you’re leaving,” you say instead.

It’s a clear deflection and Anton picks up on it the second the words leave your mouth. He exhales, leaning back slightly on his hands. “Yeah. We’re going back to Korea for a bit. See where things go from there. Maybe LA after.” He admits.

You nod slowly, like you’re processing it, even though you already have.

“But that doesn’t mean—” he starts.

You don’t let him finish. “Long distance?” you ask, glancing at him.

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before nodding. “We could try. I mean it. Something real this time.”

Something real. The words settle in your chest, heavy. You want to believe him…you almost do but wanting something has never been enough for the two of you.

You nod like you agree, like you believe him, even though you don’t and before he can read too much into it, you lean forward, closing the space between you, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is softer than anything you’ve shared before.

It doesn’t feel like a fight or a distraction or something meant to prove a point. Anton stills for half a second surprised before his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, pulling you closer as he kisses you back.

His movements are slow and deliberate, almost like he’s trying to memorize you rather than consume you. His thumb brushes along your jaw, your cheek, as his lips move against yours with a kind of care you haven’t felt from him before.

His hands slide down from your face, pausing briefly at your shoulders before drifting lower, fingertips grazing along the edges of his jacket still wrapped around you. He tugs it gently from your arms, letting it fall somewhere beside the bed before his attention returns to you, eyes flickering over your face like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time in a long while.

You don’t look away.

Your breath catches softly as his hands find the zipper of your dress, hesitating for just a moment, giving you time to stop him, to say something, to pull away. You don’t.

He takes the hint and slowly unzips your dress. His gaze never leaving yours until the fabric is gone and discarded somewhere behind him.

He leans in again, pressing another kiss to your lips before letting it drift to your cheek, your jaw, the curve of your neck. Each touch softer than the last, like he’s making up for every moment he wasn’t like this before.

You let your hands move too, undoing his tie, then his dress shirt, guiding him just enough until he pulls back to shed the layers himself. The fabric drops to the floor without care, forgotten the second it leaves his hands.

When he comes back to you, it’s closer. His forehead rests briefly against yours, both of you breathing the same air, your breaths mingling together and become one. You take your time to remember his face, all the beauty marks and smile lines then his lips find yours once more.

There’s no urgency in the way he touches you, no rush to get anywhere else. His hands move as if he’s learning you all over again, like this version of you is something fragile. Something he doesn’t want to break.

You fall back onto the bare mattress together, the springs creaking faintly beneath you, the room around you stripped of everything except this.

Your orgasm crashes into you, shattering you completely. You barely register the sounds you’re making, Anton swallowing them with a desperate kiss. Your breaths tangle, uneven and shaky, his hands still holding you like he doesn’t quite know how to let go. “I love you.” He chokes out as he spills in you.

It feels like a freight train has hit you. Your chest tightens so suddenly it almost hurts, your breath catching as everything inside you stumbles over itself. Your hand lifts on instinct, brushing his hair back from his face so you can see him clearly, really see him.

“I love you too,” you breathe. You finally allow yourself to say the words you’ve been aching to say for the past four years.

Anton exhales against your lips, something in his expression breaking open just slightly before he leans down again, kissing you reverently. You kiss him back just as gently, your fingers still tangled in his hair, holding him there for a second longer before pulling back just enough to look at him again.

“I love you,” you say once more. Making sure he knows, he understands you have and will always love him.

Anton gently pulls out and a soft whimper escapes your lips at the loss but he’s quick to drop down beside you, pulling you into his embrace, cradling you against his chest like it’s second nature. His arms wrap around you securely, one hand splayed across your back while the other traces slow, absentminded circles into your skin. It feels like everything you’ve ever wanted.

You tilt your head slightly, looking up at him. His eyes are already on you. “Did you mean it?” he murmurs.

You nod against him, your fingers coming up to rest lightly against his chest. “I always did.”

Anton exhales softly, his hand sliding up your back to rest at the base of your neck. “Then we can make it work. It doesn’t have to end like this.”

You don’t humor him with a response. Instead, you trace slow patterns into his skin, listening as he continues. “I’m being serious, ____. We could try. Long distance for a bit…until things settle.” His thumb brushes lightly along your shoulder. “And then I’ll come back to New York.”

Your heart stutters at that.

“I don’t wanna be anywhere else long term. We could…get a place. A brownstone, maybe. Fix it up how we want.” He says with a small laugh.

You smile faintly despite yourself, picturing it without meaning to. You had mentioned freshman year wanting to be a NewYork Times best selling author living in your very own brownstone, that’s how you would know you made it.

“You’d have your own space to write,” he continues, glancing down at you. “I could finally hear all those stories you never let anyone read. Help if you want or just…be there.” 

Tears slowly start to fill your eyes. “And you could tell me when my lyrics suck.” He adds teasingly.

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “They don’t suck.”

“Some of them do,” he insists, nudging you slightly.

You hum, pretending to consider it. “Maybe.”

He smiles at that, something soft and boyish slipping through as he turns his head to look up at the ceiling. For a moment, you let yourself stay there. In the version of your life he’s painting so easily, as if it’s something already within reach. You nod along when you’re supposed to. Add small comments, let him talk, let him believe you’re right there with him.

His voice eventually slows, his words tapering off as the exhaustion of the day finally catches up to him. His grip on you loosens just slightly, his breathing evening out as sleep begins to pull him under.

You stay still beneath him, listening as his breaths deepen, as the tension finally leaves his body completely. When you’re sure he’s asleep, you tilt your head just enough to look at him again.

You take in the way his lashes rest against his cheeks, the faint crease between his brows that’s finally smoothed out, the pink of his lips. Your fingers lift slowly, brushing his hair back from his forehead one last time, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.

“I love you,” you whisper, so quietly it drifts into the night.

You fight the tears as you pull away. Slowly untangling yourself from his arms like you’re afraid even the smallest movement might wake him, might stop you from doing what you already know you’re going to do. You gather your clothes from the floor, dressing in silence, your hands moving on autopilot.

When you make it to the door, you pause. You sniff once before looking over your shoulder. He’s still there, still unmoving. Still looking like something you could’ve kept if things had been different.

Your throat tightens but you don’t let it stop you. You open the door and slip out into the quiet hallway, letting the door close softly behind you. Only then do you allow yourself to cry, to mourn what you never let yourself have.

Present Day

By the time you step off the train, your head is still buzzing with red ink and rejected edits.

The day had dragged at the publishing house, hours blurring into each other under fluorescent lights while you sat hunched over your laptop, eyes burning, flipping between manuscripts and stories that weren’t yours. Words you were supposed to fix, shape and make better even as your own sat untouched in the notes app on your phone.

Your boss hadn’t made it any easier. Hurling insults from her glass office at the all editors as she sat with her legs up on her desk eating a deli sub.

All you want is your bed.

You dig through your bag as you walk, fingers brushing past your notebook, your wallet and the lip gloss you swore you lost two days ago. Your keys are always at the bottom no matter how many times you tell yourself to keep them somewhere easier to reach. You let out a quiet sigh, already half-annoyed at the effort it’s going to take to find them.

The sound of someone calling your name cuts through your annoyance. You look up and blink in confusion. Jake stands a few feet away leaning casually against his car, one hand resting on the hood of his stupidly nice sports car, the other tucked into the pocket of his slacks.

He smiles when your eyes meet his. “Hey baby.”

For a second, you just stare at him. You hadn’t been expecting him. Your fingers that are still in your bag tighten slightly around nothing, your thoughts lagging a step behind as you try to catch up. “Jake? What are you doing here?” You ask as you finally pull your hand free, letting your bag fall back against your hip. 

He pushes himself off the car, stepping a little closer as if he doesn’t see anything wrong with showing up unannounced. “I texted you. Figured I’d come pick you up.”

You blink, pulling your phone from your pocket. The screen lights up immediately, a string of notifications you hadn’t bothered checking once you left the office. His name sits there near the top.

“Sorry. I must’ve missed it.” You murmur, locking your phone again without really reading anything.

“It’s okay. I thought we could grab dinner or something. You look like you had a long day.” He says quickly. 

You let out a small breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. “That obvious?”

“A little,” he admits, reaching out to brush his thumb lightly under your eye like he’s checking for something.

The touch is gentle and familiar. You should lean into it but instead you step back just slightly. “Yeah. It was…a lot.” You say, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

Jake watches you for a moment, something flickering across his face too quick to fully catch. “Well,” he says, straightening a bit, deciding not to push it. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

He gestures toward the passenger side, already moving to open the door for you. “Um…actually,” you start, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Raincheck? I kinda just feel like staying in tonight.”

Jake’s hand stills on the car door for half a second before he nods. “Cool, then I’ll take you to my place.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “No. I think I’d rather just stay home.” You say softer now, shaking your head slightly. 

His brows pull together just a fraction. “Home?”

“Yeah,” you say quickly, filling the space before he can. “Manon’s leaving soon, remember? That F1 thing in Miami? I haven’t really gotten to hang out with her before she goes so I just…I wanna spend some time with her.”

The lie comes out smoother than it should. You don’t mention that she’s probably already half-packed, that she’ll be out the door early tomorrow, that “spending time” really just means existing in the living room watching The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives together before retreating into your room to shower. Maybe use TikTok for a bit before crawling to your laptop to open the same document of your novel that hasn’t seen real progress in weeks.

Jake doesn’t need to know any of that though.

You watch as his tongue presses into the inside of his cheek, something tightening in his jaw as he exhales quietly through his nose. “____,” he says, and there’s a shift in it now. “Seriosuly?”

You blink at him, feigning confusion. “What?”

He lets out a short breath, pushing the car door closed. The soft thud echoes a little louder than it should between you. “Why don’t you like coming to my place?”

You straighten slightly, defensive before you can stop yourself. “I do like your place.”

“Okay, then why does it feel like you avoid it?”

“I don’t avoid it,” you shoot back, adjusting your bag again just to have something to do with your hands. “Jake, I just said I’m tired. I wanna go home.”

His gaze doesn’t waver. “So come home with me.”

You exhale, slower this time, trying to keep the moment from tipping over into something else. “Jake…”

“Why won’t you move in?” he asks, more direct now, finally naming what this is realy about.

“Can we not do this today? I just got off work, Jake. I’m tired.” You sigh.

He shakes his head immediately. “No ____, because every time I try, you shut me down.”

“I don’t shut you down,” you say quickly.

His eyes widen just slightly, like he can’t believe you’re actually going to pretend that. “You don’t?” he repeats, incredulous now. “You brushed it off last week. You brushed it off the week before that. Every time I bring up anything about us moving forward, you throw up these impenetrable walls!” he gestures vaguely toward you, frustration bleeding through.

You roll your eyes. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what is it? Because I don’t understand what this is supposed to be anymore.” He presses.

You cross your arms over yourself, more to shield than anything else. “You’re making it into something it’s not.”

His jaw tightens. “Am I?”

You shrug, ready to dismiss him and this conversation but he speaks up again. “Is this about that guy in your memory box? In the polaroid?”

Your head snaps up, irritation flaring instantly. “Why are you bringing him up again? I told you he’s nothing!” The irony of your words are not lost on you.

“Because you clearly still feel something for him!” he fires back, matching your energy now, all the patience he’s been holding onto slipping. “You don’t react like that over someone who’s ‘nothing,’ ____!”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head like he’s the one being unreasonable. “You’re reaching.”

“Am I?” he pushes, voice rising just slightly. “Because from where I’m standing you’re looking really fucking guilty!”

You roll your eyes, already turning away from him like that’s the end of it. “This conversation is over,” you mutter over your shoulder, digging back into your bag as you head for your building.

“____.” He calls. You ignore it.

Your fingers close around your keys, finally finding them at the bottom and you pull them free. “Don’t walk away from me!” Jake booms from behind you.

You continue up the steps, not giving into the way he baits you. You clench your jaw as you reach for the lock on your door when he yells out again. “Why won’t you just choose me!?”

Unable to keep a hold on your cool, you whirl around, anger rising faster than you can contain it, words already spilling before you can catch them. “Because you’re not him!”

You gasp the second you finish your sentence. There’s no way you just said that. “Fuck—” you breathe, your voice breaking as your eyes widen. “Jake, wait—I didn’t mean that, I didn’t—”

Only problem with that is that you did mean it and Jake knows. “Yeah. You did.”

The calmness of his response is worse than anything else he could’ve done or said. You take a step toward him, panic rising now, hands half-lifted like you can fix it if you just say the right thing. “No, Jake, listen to me—”

He wastes no time in turning away from you and heading to his car without another word. You hurry after him, heart racing reaching for the passenger side. “Jake! Please! just let me explain—”

You try tugging the door open but the handle doesn’t budge, he’s locked the car. You look up just in time to see him start the engine, his gaze fixed straight ahead, not even sparing you a glance. “Jake!”

He doesn’t stop. The car pulls away from the curb in one smooth motion, tires scraping slightly against the pavement as he accelerates, merging into traffic and away from you. You swallow hard, your vision blurring just slightly as everything starts to catch up all at once.

For a second, you’re still facing the street like he might come back if you just stand there long enough but the space he left behind stays empty, cars passing through like nothing happened. You step back from the curb slowly, your footing uneven as you make your way toward your building.

The world around you keeps moving, people pass, a couple across the street glances over before quickly looking away, your neighbor lingers by the front steps a little too long before pretending to check her phone.

Heat creeps up your neck at the fact that she definitely heard but you don’t have it in you to care. Not really. You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder and try to feign normalcy. Your phone buzzes in your hand, dragging your attention down to the screen.

It’s an email. The subject line almost knocks the remaining air from your lungs.

Subject line: English 102 – Letter to the Future, ____.

For a second, you just stare at it. You almost ignore it. You almost shove your phone back into your bag and deal with…everything else first but your curiosity wins out and your thumb moves before you can think too hard about it.

There’s a short message from your old professor explaining that the letters were scanned and sent out now that everyone has graduated, a small note about reflection and growth and how she hopes you’ve become everything you once wrote about.

Your chest tightens slightly as you scroll. Before you is a scanned copy of your own handwriting. You sink down onto your front steps without really deciding to, your bag slipping from your shoulder as you bring the screen closer to read.

Hi…me? This feels weird. I don’t even know how to start this without sounding dumb but I guess that’s kind of the point? You’re probably not the same person writing this anymore so…hi. I hope you’re okay….I hope you’re happy. Right now I feel like everything is just starting. Like I finally made it somewhere I’ve been dreaming about for years. New York still doesn’t feel real, like I’m going to wake up and be back home again lol. Did we stay? Please tell me we stayed. Also…did we write it? Our book? I keep telling everyone I’m going to be a New York Times bestselling author one day and they all nod like I’m insane or don’t have what it takes. I think I do though. I think I have it in me. I just hope you didn’t give up on that. Oh! And Manon, are we still friends? She’s literally my favorite person right now. We keep joking about living together after graduation like it’s a given. Did we actually do it? Because I feel like we would be so good at it. Does Sohee come to visit like he says he will? Does he freeload and steal our food before offering to pay us by singing old Justin Bieber?

There’s a pause in the letter. You can see it in the way your handwriting dips slightly, like you hesitated even back then.

Anton…I don’t know why I’m even writing about him but…he’s really nice. Like, really nice. Being around him makes me…happy. There’s something about him, I don’t know. Anyway, I feel like he’s going to do something big one day. I don’t know what yet but I know he has it in him. I hope he accomplishes all of it. I hope we stay close.

Your vision blurs before you even realize you’re crying. The girl who wrote this…she sounds so sure…so hopeful. So painfully unaware of everything that would come after. You let out a shaky breath, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as the tears finally spill over, sliding down your cheeks before you can stop them.

You don’t even notice the second email come in right away. It’s only when the ding sounds and your phone buzzes again, sharp against your palm, that your eyes flick to the top of the screen.

Subject line: English 102 – Letter to the Future, Anton Lee.

Your breath stutters. For a second, you think it has to be some kind of mistake, a glitch. Maybe your professor sent things out in bulk and accidentally attached the wrong file to the wrong name.

You tap it anyway.

The screen shifts and there his handwriting sits. Neater than yours and slightly slanted. You can almost see him again, hunched over his notebook in that classroom, chewing on his pencil, tapping it against the page while he thought too hard about the assignment. You start reading.

It’s kind of funny how we’re supposed to capture something meaningful in a letter like this. As if we can freeze a version of ourselves in time and trust that it’ll still make sense years from now. I don’t think it works like that. I think people change too fast for that. Or maybe not fast enough. Maybe we just carry different versions of ourselves at the same time and pretend they don’t contradict each other. Right now, I feel like I’m somewhere in between a lot of things. Not really who I was when I first got here but not fully who I’m supposed to be yet either. People talk about “finding yourself” like it’s a destination, like one day you just wake up and everything clicks into place. I don’t think that’s real. I think it’s more like…you keep going and hope you recognize yourself along the way. Freshman year is almost over and it already feels like something I won’t ever get back. Not in a sad way. Just in a…you don’t realize how important something is until you’re already moving past it kind of way. Like how certain days feel bigger than others for no reason. Or how certain people do.

Your breath catches before you even get to the next line.

I think you’re one of those people for me. I didn’t expect that. If I’m being honest, I didn’t expect to get this attached to anyone here. I’ve never really been good at that. Not in a cold way, I don’t think. Just…sometimes it feels like people experience things in a way I can’t fully reach. Like there’s always a small gap between what they feel and what I understand but with you, it’s different. Or at least it feels different.

You swallow hard.

I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like I’m overthinking something simple but I think about you more than I probably should. Not in a weird way. (Okay, maybe a little in a weird way.)

A broken laugh escapes you through your tears.

I think about the way you talk about things you love, the way you only ever read hard copy versions of books. The way you get frustrated when people don’t take writing seriously. The way you appreciate the more sentimental things life has to offer. It makes me want to listen. Even when I don’t understand half of it. I don’t know what happens after this year. I don’t know what happens after any of this, actually. Everyone keeps asking those big questions like where we’re going, what we’re becoming, what the point of all of this is supposed to be and I don’t have an answer. I don’t think anyone really does. But I do know this: I’m really glad I met you.

Tears slip faster down your cheeks, dripping onto your screen.

I almost didn’t, which is the craziest part. (crazy am i right?) If Sohee hadn’t dragged me to your door that day, I probably would’ve just…kept walking and you would’ve just been another person in the hallway. Someone I passed by without thinking twice. And now I can’t imagine this year without you in it. I don’t know if I’ll ever say any of this out loud. I feel like I won’t. Not because I don’t want to but because I don’t know if I’m supposed to. There’s a version of this where I tell you and everything changes. Maybe for the better, maybe not. And there’s another version where I don’t say anything and I get to keep what we already have. I think I’m a little selfish when it comes to that. So if you’re reading this and I never told you…I think I liked you. No

The word is scratched out slightly, like he went back over it.

I know I did. I just didn’t know what to do with it. Maybe by the time you’re reading this, I figured it out. Maybe I told you and we laughed about how obvious it was. Maybe we tried. Maybe we didn’t. Maybe we’re still in each other’s lives in some way that makes sense. And if we’re not…then I hope you’re still writing. I hope you didn’t let anything or anyone convince you to stop. I hope you became everything you said you would, even if it looks different than you imagined. And I hope, in some small way, I was part of that version of your life. You were my favorite part of this year. I think you might be my favorite part of college. And if I never got the chance to say it properly…then just know I would’ve chosen you.

The sob hits you before you can brace for it.

It tears out of your chest, sharp and broken, your whole body folding forward as if the weight of it all finally catches up to you at once. Your phone slips slightly in your grasp but you don’t let go, your fingers tightening around it like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

“Fuck—” you choke, dragging in a breath that doesn’t quite fill your lungs. Your shoulders shake, your head dropping as tears fall freely now.

You walked away. You walked away from him.

From every version of him that tried quietly, stubbornly and consistently to meet you where you were too scared to stand. The freshman who hoped you’d stay close, the sophomore who fell for you in all the ways possible, the junior who asked you to stop pretending and the senior who laid everything out and still chose you.

“____?”

A soft calling of your name cuts through your self deprecating thoughts. You don’t look up right away, too far gone. It’s only when you feel a shift beside you that you finally blink through your tears to find Manon perched beside you on your stoop.

She sets her bag down beside her and just looks at you for a second, taking you in, your tear-streaked face and your trembling hands. “You got the letter?” she asks gently.

You hiccup, the sound catching in your throat as your brows knit together. “W-what? H-how did you—”

Manon exhales softly, leaning her elbows onto her knees. “I got mine at dinner.” She folds her hands before continuing. “Anton told me he wrote to you.”

Your head snaps toward her. “What?”

She shrugs one shoulder, nudging her bag further aside with her foot. “Beginning of sophomore year.” she adds.

“He—” you start then stop because what is there to even say to that?

Manon watches you carefully for a second longer before letting out a quiet breath. She leans back slightly, bracing her hands against the step behind her. “Are you finally done running?” she asks.

The question lands like a slap to the face. For a moment, you don’t answer. You just stare at the ground between your feet, your tears slowing but not stopping, your mind replaying everything at once.

Manon doesn’t fill the silence, lets you sit in it however uncomfortable it may be. For the first time in two years, you don’t deflect. “I didn’t know…I didn’t know he—” your throat tightens again, cutting you off.

Manon hums quietly. “Yeah, you did.” She says.

You flinch slightly at that. She softens almost immediately, nudging your knee with hers. “Maybe not like this but…you knew.” She amends, nodding toward your phone.

You don’t argue. Manon exhales, dragging a hand down her face before resting her chin in her palm. “I knew about the two of you before…Sohee knew too, by the way. Maybe not everything but…we knew enough. His feelings weren’t exactly subtle.”

A weak, humorless laugh escapes you. “I thought we were so slick.”

“Please,” she snorts lightly. “Everyone could see it except you.”

You shake your head, more tears slipping free. “That’s not…”

“It is. I’ve been watching you self-sabotage for two years.” She cuts in frimly.

The words sting. Not because they’re harsh but because they’re true. “I got frustrated,” she admits after a beat, her tone quieter now.

“Watching you push him away then get mad when he didn’t stay exactly where you left him. Watching you settle for…less.” She gestures vaguely, she doesn’t even need to say Jake’s name.

Your gaze drops as you think about every time she defended Anton during senior year. Every time she looked at you like she was trying to understand why you kept choosing the harder option.

“I should’ve stopped you…with Jake I mean. I knew you didn’t love him the way you loved..the way you love Anton.”

You don’t deny it. You sniff, wiping at your face with the back of your hand as you look away, the street lights blurring together in front of you. The two of you sit in silence for a beat before Manon speaks up again.

“...I still talk to him.”

Your head turns so fast it almost hurts. “What?”

Manon shrugs, like she expected that reaction. “Not all the time but...yeah. We keep in touch. Sohee too.”

“He’s…okay?” you ask.

She nods. “He’s good. Booked and busy. Music stuff is actually going really well.”

You smile, at least he accomplished his dreams. Manon studies your face for a second before reaching into her bag, pulling out her phone. “Actually…” she hesitates then unlocks it, scrolling for a moment. “There’s something you should hear.”

She taps her screen then turns it slightly so you can see. “It’s his latest release, he sent it to me two nights ago.”

You look at the title and your heart constricts all over again. Before You Leave Me.

Manon presses play and you listen with baited breath. You don’t make it past the first verse before your vision blurs again.

Darling, handle me with care Cover me in bubble wrap I’m scared you really mean it That you’re never comin’ back

Your chest caves in slowly, your hand tightening around your phone as the next lines play.

Know I can’t change your mind But how could you just leave like that?

Manon doesn’t say anything beside you. She just lets it play, lets it sink in. The chorus hits and it feels like it knocks the air out of your lungs completely.

Just give me one more night Hold me like you’re still mine Oh, love me for right now Before you leave me

You squeeze your eyes shut but it only makes it worse. The memory overlaps with the sound, his arms around you, his voice against your skin, the way he held you like he already knew you were going to go. Like he was asking for something you were never going to give him.

I know it’s gonna hurt Watching your footsteps turn So, love me for right now Before you leave me

Your shoulders shake as the realization settles in. He knew. Some part of him knew. Even that night when he was laying there with you, when he was telling you about brownstones and writing and staying, he knew you might still walk away but he loved you anyway.

You drag in a shaky breath, pressing your palm harder against your mouth. “Stop.” You beg Manon, turning away from her. “Turn it off!”

She complies right away. The music cuts off mid-line, the silence that follows almost louder than the song itself. “I can’t—” you choke, dragging a hand down your face. “I can’t listen to that. I can’t!”

“Okay. Then what can you do?” She asks.

You blink at her, thrown off by the shift. “What?” you rasp.

“What can you do, ____?” she repeats, leaning forward now, elbows braced against her knees. “Because I’ve watched you do this for two years. Self destruct and wait for the damage to pass by.”

Your brows knit together, a weak shake of your head already forming. “That’s not—”

“You don’t get to sit here and act like this blindsided you. None of this is new. The only thing that’s new is that you can’t pretend you didn’t know anymore.”

“That’s not fair,” you mutter.

“No. It’s not. That’s the point.” She rebuttals.

She softens slightly. “You knew he loved you and instead of meeting him there, you made him work for it then punished him by walking away. You don’t get to fall apart like this and act like you’re helpless in all of it. You made choices too.”

“I was scared,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Manon says.

Nothing is said beyond that. After minutes of sitting in silence, Manon pats your leg softly. “His number hasn’t changed.”

She doesn’t linger after that. Manon pushes herself up, brushing her hands against her dress before reaching down to grab her bag. She pauses for half a second, like she might say something else but whatever it is, she decides against it. Instead, she gives your knee one last squeeze then she turns and heads inside, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you alone on the step.

You sit there a moment longer, your phone still in your hand, his letter open on the screen waiting for you to do something with it. Your chest still aches and your eyes still sting but you sniff once and remind yourself you caused this pain.

You look down at your phone again and swipe out of the email, not wanting to face it anymore. Tonight, you need to forget it all. You inhale slowly and push yourself up from the steps. Your legs feel a little unsteady at first but you adjust, sliding your bag back onto your shoulder and wiping at your face with the sleeve of your jacket.

You walk aimlessly down the street back towards the subway entrance. You swipe your metro car and step onto the platform, the train arrives in five minutes. You get on, not thinking of the destination, just letting your feet carry you.

Your mind drifts, your thoughts looping through everything that’s just happened; Jake’s face, Manon’s words, the letter, the song…Anton. You stare out the window as the train carries you further and further into the city.

Eventually, the train slows and the doors slide open. You step out onto the platform you haven’t stood on in a while, the familiarity hitting you in a way that feels almost disorienting. Your feet move before you can second guess it, carrying you up the stairs and out onto the street.

You walk and walk and walk. You don’t stop until you’re standing in front of phebes. The neon sign flickers faintly above the door, the same way it always did. You can hear the music from outside, muffled but familiar.

For a second you just stand there taking it all in. You haven’t visited NYU since graduation, haven’t made it to this side of town since you left Anton. You push down the thought the second you push open the door. Inside, it’s exactly how you remember. Dim lighting, sticky floors and music just loud enough to drown out your thoughts if you let it. The layout hasn’t changed. 

You slide onto a stool at the bar without hesitation. The bartender who approaches you isn’t one you recognize. “What can I get you?”

You don’t hesitate. “Two shots of don julio, keep the tab running.”

The bartender nods, already reaching for the bottle. He pours quickly and slides the small glasses toward you with a dish of lime wedges. You grab the first shot and lick the salt rim before tossing the tequila back in one smooth motion. You suck in a breath through your teeth, chasing it with the lime, blinking hard as your eyes water.

“Rough night?” the bartender asks, seemingly unfazed.

You let out a humorless snort, setting the empty glass down a little harder than you mean to. “Try two years.”

He pauses for half a second, caught off guard by the honestly then offers a small awkward smile. “Yeah…that’ll do it,” he mutters, already stepping away to tend to someone further down the bar.

You don’t watch him go, you just reach for the second shot. This one goes down easier. Or maybe you just don’t care as much. Either way, you welcome the burn. You exhale slowly, fingers wrapping around the empty glass as you start to twirl it against the bartop. Your mind won’t stop.

Jake. Manon. The letter. The song. Anton.

You’re already lifting your hand to signal for another when the stool beside you scrapes softly against the floor. Your jaw tightens at the new presence, irritation flaring up faster than it should. It’s barely five pm on a Thursday, the place is practically empty. There are a dozen other open seats and this asshat chooses the one right next to you? Seriously?

You roll your eyes, turning fully now, already halfway into telling them to move. “Excuse me,”

The words die the second they leave your mouth and your eyes catch sight of who the stranger is. Sat before you is none other than Anton Lee.

For a split second, he looks just as caught off guard as you feel. His brows lift slightly, his posture stilling like he wasn’t expecting this either. It’s gone as quick as it came.

Your eyes tear away from his gaze to take him in greedily, trying to make up for two years worth of absence. His hair is longer now, falling around his face and dyed a deep auburn. It’s styled back enough to show his forehead.

Your gaze drops. His gold chain is still there, resting against his collarbone. The same Lange & Söhne Odysseus sits at his wrist. He’s dressed simply, jeans and a henley, sleeves pushed up to expose his forearms.

Your eyes lift back to his face. You find him staring at you too, like he was inventorying all the new details about you. Anton’s lips curve into a gentle smile despite everything that sits between you.

“Howdy, stranger.”

profiles:

🎧 🦕 📸

chapters:

01 : disinfectant product fanatic

02 : gonna what anton kiss me?

03 : if only u were a likable student

04 : spill the beans

05 : you make me nervous shawty 🫦

06 : darkest corner of the room by the emergency exit

07 : resurface, reminisce, replay, rewind

08 : acid reflux

09 : love island usa

10 : i hate emo people

11 : i like hot single nerds

12 : feeling da fomo

13 : bona beef

14 : anton hate club

15 : super duper mega ultra rare sus 5000

16 : speed walk to conclusions

17 : yesss girl im a feminist 💯

18: who is ampon?

19: i think i’m the worst boyfriend in the entire world

20: want to be my boy?

21: you holding the list upside down then brotha

22: my shayla 😭😭😭😭

23: #nomorethirdwheeling

You wince in some kind of second wave embarrassment for your past self. There’s no choice but to admit defeat, nod, and sigh. “A girl can’t be a hater after a bad Hinge date?” You don’t have to turn your head to see Yunjin laughing, you hear it before you can feel yourself take your next breath. You can only guess she’s throwing her head back and cackling. 

You smile and let the conversation dissipate into the rhythm of your hands: smooth, fold, stack. It isn’t long before the pile no longer exists and you shove it back into a random shelf in your closet. Your body might be here, but your mind drifts back to Shotaro’s dimly lit living room, voluntarily backed into a corner on the couch with Anton hovering over you. You recall how he leaned down and turned his head abruptly, making you pause from how close you both were; how he’d tease you and ask what the matter was like he hadn’t just been an eyelash away from pressing your faces together. Hyperpop washed the tension down until you could no longer hear the heavy thumping in your chest.

Anton Lee has managed to override the migraine in your head that usually follows such a demanding evening. It’s not hard to understand why—boyish smile imprinted all over your mind every time it starts to brew up a headache, soft voice enough to forget how dry your mouth feels after a night of downing one too many drinks. You woke up with heated cheeks and a smile you’ve been trying to fight off your face. Somehow, this feels more dangerous than a hangover.

I know that the bar closes at 11 But I hope you never finish that beer You know all the words to ‘Just Like Heaven’ And I know why he wrote them now that you're standin' right here

First Date - The Red Lion, 10:00 P.M. 

You don’t know how you find yourself seated in a cozy booth at an off-campus bar with Anton. Four hours deep, sinking into the seat with three cocktails downed for your nerves and a soda for remorse towards your liver. Anton’s faring a lot better, only on his second pint of beer and holding your gaze intently. You return the gesture wholly, but not without tucking a hair behind your ear or smiling so wide you feel your cheeks tighten and tug. 

Your bare knees brush against rough denim, deliberate in the way you inch just a tad closer and playfully knock his legs with yours. It earns you an amused laugh with his eyes crinkling. His larger foot nudges your own even closer, locking in your thigh between his. You try to ignore the fluttering in your stomach and the sweat on your palms.

There’s no timidity, only an eagerness between you both to listen to what the other has to say over the bar’s playlist. You recognize the melody as the song comes closer to the first verse, and when the words finally ring through the speakers, you perk up. 

Across from you, Anton mirrors your excitement with a smile. “You know this song?”

“Do you know this song?” One of your eyebrows raise in challenge. The cocktails are catching up now, grinning from ear to ear, fueled by the buzz of the alcohol and how badly you want to keep hearing Anton talk.

“What kind of performative, yearner final boss would I be if I didn’t know all the words and the chords to Just Like Heaven?” His words makes you snort through a short sip of soda. “You’ve got good taste.” He takes a sip of his beer but you can see him fighting a smile behind the rim. You take note that it’ll probably only be another three swigs before the bar closes up and the night would fade into the next morning. Half-lidded with a ghost of a smile, you wish this moment could last forever. 

So, you try.

“Yeah? Prove it.” 

“What?” Anton blinks at you. The war against another fond smile is a losing battle when he just stares at you, bewildered. He almost looks like a lost puppy.

“You made a serious claim, Mr. Lee.” Nonchalance sits heavy on your shoulders as you shrug. You’re anything but that. Thrill runs through your veins, the kind that resurfaces from your skin when you’re around someone who makes you breathless and an overthinker all at the same time. 

“Are you asking me to sing in the middle of a bar my thermodynamics professor probably comes to after grading our papers?” 

A nod, lips caught between your teeth to muffle your giggles. You straighten up, “Unless you’re a coward.”

He drags a hand down his face and laughs. You try to ignore how his palms cover nearly all of his face. 

“Not a coward.” He protests weakly and shakes his head. 

“Then sing!” You prompt him even further, your voice coming out like a whiny kid does for a once in a lifetime treat. “Just for me?” 

The song is nearing its chorus and Anton, much like you, is combatting a wide smile. Familiar words start to roll around, your shoulders moving to the song like second nature. Eventually, he quietly mouths the words along with you. You hear his voice, understated and velvety and the easiest to get lost in. The sound quickly overshadows the actual song.

When the music fizzles out with the chatter of the crowd, you’re left staring at him. “You actually know all the words.” 

Warmth blankets your body where it counts; face heated and your chest feeling that same ache it did when you walked in here just a little over four hours ago. It’s a feeling you could get used to, and yet it keeps you on the edge of your seat.

You feel his thighs closing in on your shin once more, knees knocking. “Told you.”

You hear the last fragments of The Cure before it dissolves into another track neither of you recognize. Someone groans from the booth over and you catch Anton’s eyes before you’re both laughing.

“Damn, tough crowd.” Anton has a hand to his forehead like it’ll do anything to help the obvious pink on his cheeks. It’s hard not to feel smug when you see the color spreading to his ears, but you give him the kindness that stems from ignorance.

“It’s a terrible follow-up. Just Like Heaven deserves better.” Your claim is bold, backed up by the confidence from two long island iced teas and the constant fits of laughter Anton graces you with. The crinkles by his eyes have burned themselves in the back of your mind. 

“Hey, give the guy’s playlist a break.” His fingers tap against his glass and you’re tempted to reach across just to brush your knuckles against his. You catch his eyes flickering down to your own hands, loosely gripping the stem of an empty cocktail glass. The moment passes as quickly as it comes, forced to look back at him when he asks, “What would you have played next?”

You open your mouth, close it, then open again. Puckered lips are what you’re left with and much to ponder on for such a seemingly simple question. Anton stares intently, folding his arms and setting them on the table to cushion his chin. He moves closer, anticipating your answer. Suddenly, it feels like a spotlight has shone down on you.

When his thighs close in again, you gently tap at his forearms. “That’s an impossible question to answer.”

Anton nods with a satisfied smile, like he’d won something from just a few words. The corner of his lips quirk up, leaning back against his seat with his hands raised up. “Exactly why playlists are my prized possessions.”

“Oh, you’re a playlist person then.” You sip your soda and squint at the fizziness bubbling up your nose. You don’t realize how much you’ve been talking, the sensation more foreign than it felt just an hour ago. 

He clicks his tongue against his cheek in jest, clearly amused by this debacle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I’m an album looper, unfortunately,” Your confession reaps an approving shrug and a doting smile. Anton’s never been the judgy type; you gathered from the handful of conversations you’ve had at random house parties and eavesdropping on him and Yunjin where her voice tended to overlap with his. “How many playlists do you have?”

His hands fumble with any loose threads from his shirt. The sheepish look on his face makes him look all the more youthful, but most importantly, it answers before he can even say anything.

“Anton, oh my god.”

“Hey, numbers don’t matter.”

“Which is why you can tell me how many, right?” You’re pushing his buttons, but you have an inkling he’s not too against the way you’re leaning into him as close as one can with a table between them. 

Anton doesn’t hesitate this time. His answer comes quick, though it sounds more like a theory than something definitive. “Maybe forty?” 

No words follow and he’s visibly shifting in his seat. He might have broken into a sweat if you didn’t laugh to fill the space. “In my defense, some are seasonal. Sometimes I make them for each month of the year.”

“Well, I think that makes it sweet, then.” You give him a nod of approval and it draws an easygoing laugh out of him. It sits heavy, full in his chest, then reaches his eyes. You realize that for most of the evening, you’ve been chasing after that sound, that face—looking for any excuse to make it happen again.

He takes another swig. Your eyes fall on the ever-depleting glass in his hand, then to his adam’s apple as he swallows. Immediately, you try to pick your gaze up.

Too late. 

“Why do you keep looking at my beer?” His brows raise up and that smirk from Shotaro’s party emerges. It’s not often that Anton breaks out of his sweet demeanor. Even in his humor, he’s always treaded gently and considered his words towards you carefully. Your lips part in protest but no sound escapes, just a shaky breath as you scan over the sight of him. The overhead light changes colors every few minutes, casting a red shadow over his otherwise boyish features. Something about how your legs are intertwined underneath the table and how his half-lidded gaze is anchored on you makes you shrink in your seat. 

“I’m not.” You manage to choke out, burying your face into your soda the moment you get a word in. “You are.”

“I’m really not, Anton.”

“There’s still twenty minutes until close,” He grins at you, taking another long sip on purpose. “You don’t need to count.”

“I’m not counting.” You say it firmly, arms crossed on top of your chest. 

“You’re counting. For sure.” 

He shrugs, lips curling down, not really believing you. He goes in for another gulp and by then, you’re sure it’s just enough to last until the next five minutes. His gaze doesn’t leave yours even as he’s swallowing the alcohol. For a while, neither of you say anything—just basking in the next queued song and grasping at the time you both have left in the booth. Everything feels closer than it once was, but there was never really much space there to begin with. You feel his legs relax against yours as he leans back, hand over his phone on the table.

The song dwindles down along with the buzz of the bar. The bell on the door rings more often than not, and you almost mistake the ‘ding’ on your phone for another person stepping out. You’re about to break your little staring contest to check the notification but Anton’s voice cuts through. “I sent you a playlist link. Add anything you want and I’ll listen too.” “Really?” 

“Mhm,” His lips press into a flat line, nodding. “Hope you take playlists on the first date.”

“And you’re sure this isn’t an excuse to keep texting me?” You laugh in mock disbelief but you’re already swiping up to unlock your phone. You scroll through the five tracks he’s added in the span of a few minutes and smile.

“I don’t need an excuse to keep texting you.” The words land without hesitation. He doesn’t even look up from where he’s scrolling on the screen. He props his elbow up on the table and leans against his palm. The watch on his wrist catches the light and glints every now and then, making your eyes trail down the exposed bit of his forearm. You don’t expect him to disagree off the bat and you realize your deflection is rendered useless when you’re with someone as genuine as Anton. He smiles sheepishly, but his answer comes firm without a stutter.

“Oh,” is all you can manage to get out. He’s serious.

Across from you, Anton’s ears are turning pinker by the second. He almosts groans into his hands but bites his lip instead. He breaks the silence, more timidly than you’ve ever heard him. “Okay, well, that sounded smoother in my head.”

“No, no, please,” You’re holding in another laugh. Moments like this are getting too hard to count with ten fingers and it’s only the first night you’ve spent more sober than the last. “Keep talking, I’m all ears.”

Anton shakes his head with fragmented laughter. The corners of his lip are shaking, unable to keep himself from smiling even as the laughter dies between you two. Someone behind the bar clears their throat and that’s what it takes for Anton to look at the clock and nudge your shoes. “I think we have to take you home before you get delirious.” 

“I thought we already were.” Your pursed lips make his breath hitch. You don’t seem to notice with how groggily you tuck your things into your purse. 

“Just you, I think.” He responds, eyes fixated on your pouted lips. 

“You’re delirious for putting Baby in the same playlist as Just Like Heaven.” You mutter. Even as your energy hits the floor, you keep up with Anton’s banter. After nearly five hours stuck together, you slide out of the booth and feel the cool air hit your bare legs; no Anton shielding you with his indigo jeans and leather boots. You feel him behind you, large hand ghosting over the small of your back and the side of your waist. He nods at the bartender, mouths his thanks, and walks beside you towards the door.

“Let’s not forget where we came from.” He chuckles as he closes the door behind him, leading you outside.

“You’re right,” You nod, lips still in a pout. You turn your heels towards him. “Another Justin song. Later.” He nods along like he understands what little you say. All you know is that you’re going home with a different kind of fervor.

“I’ll call an Uber for you, okay? Text me the whole way and when you get home.” 

The next few minutes are a bit of a blur. You’re in Anton’s arms and time slows, taking in his scent. Then you’re in the car, trying not to throw up while sending him random stickers as a sign of life. 

Oh, one night I was bored in bed And stalked you on the internet It's feminine intuition

Post-First Date - Room 402, 11:15 P.M.

The Uber barely makes it to the corner of your apartment building before you’re pulling your phone out. A random Chiikawa sticker greets you in bright light, the surrounding darkness leaves you unphased as you step into the lobby and straight to the elevator. 

Anton’s notifications seamlessly fit with the rest of your routine. You’re on autopilot: kicking your shoes off by the front door and stumbling into the narrow space of your studio apartment, shrugging your coat off and hooking it behind the door. All the while, your phone seems stuck to your palms. Fingers curled around your phone protectively, even if the heat from the back of your phone increasingly warms up your hand; even if you’re brushing your teeth and your eyes are glued to your text chain instead of the mirror.

By the time your head hits the pillow, both your hands are locked in. The coolness beneath your duvet eases you into something close to slumber, but it doesn’t last long. Another notification sits at the top of your screen and you’re wide awake. 

12:00 A.M.  

antonio 🦕 glad u made it home safe tho antonio 🦕 :chiikawa-dance: antonio 🦕 goodnight, sleep good :) <3

You stare at the messages for a few seconds before locking your phone and setting it down on your nightstand. For the nth time tonight, a smile stretches across your lips unknowingly. You drape your forearm over your closed eyes and let yourself sink into the mattress with triumph. Eventually, you take your arm off and stare at the ceiling. Your thoughts bounce wildly: Should I text back now? Maybe the morning is better?

Seconds pass and it’s quiet. The ceiling taunts you with the idea of picking your phone up again and losing the early hours of the morning to Anton one way or another. With a deep sigh, you reach for the phone again. 

There are new notifications: one from your group chat with Yunjin and Yizhuo, and the rest are the unopened messages from Anton. Once unlocked, the playlist Anton shared sits open. You’re met with the five songs from when you last checked. The small icon sitting under the playlist title catches your eye—a mirror selfie and his full name staring back at you, just tempting enough that your thumb hovers. 

Tapping at his icon leads into a rabbit hole you’re twenty minutes and a few notes on his playlists deep. The titles reel you in more than anything; overly specific and oddly endearing. Mundaneity with a soundtrack, ordinary things that sound more exciting when you envision him right beside you. Your front teeth sink into your bottom lip, gnawing at the skin distractedly.

You think you could see yourself tangled up in wired earphones at the subway, listening to songs for the ride home with your intertwined hands tucked in his coat pocket. It’s a far-fetched vision after one date, but it has you lingering in the thought of seeing Anton again. His veiny hands on top of the glossy wooden table, the natural pout of his lips. How he looked at you from across the booth. Your eyes keep drifting back to his profile picture. You miss him, and it’s only been an hour.

Somewhere between A Brockhampton Summer and rainy day fund, the thought strikes you embarrassingly late. Anton’s Instagram account has been at the palm of your hands this entire time. Two taps later, his highlights illuminate your face in the pitch black of your room. 

You glance up at the time stamp on your phone. It reads half past twelve and you swear under your breath but you don’t really stop. The research ensues; skimming through his outfit pictures, album covers mixing with the colors of the photo, tucked between the background of his room in most. The songs are what you’d expect from what you know about him—some you’re pleasantly surprised by and others you know well enough to take a mental note of. 

Another twenty minutes passes by and it’s a flurry of things that make you descend deeper into the mattress. At some point, you’re even under your blanket like you’ve got anyone to hide from. A bunch of badly angled food pictures and a silly sticker, a photo of a golden retriever, sunset photos from the backseat of his friends’ cars and a slow song sucking you into the screen. You think: I might be fucked.

You swipe out of Instagram, determined to get a head start on being remotely sleepy. Counting sheep or imagining a European summer don’t seem like techniques that could lull you tonight. You lower your brightness and decide that it might be worth replying to your friends.

12:15 A.M.  -  3 baddies 0 porsche

jen 🌈🧚🏻 are u ALIVE!!!! @/yn 🩷  ning 🫀 what if she didnt even come home 🧐 jen 🌈🧚🏻 girl if u dont pick up the damn phone and text us back

12:55 A.M. 

yn 🩷 hi… yn 🩷 i will treat Everyone tomorrow in honor of my lord and savior jennifer yunjin huh christ jen 🌈🧚🏻 NKKDAJBHJBHAS HELLOOOO? ning 🫀 that means it went well ning 🫀 rip hot girl summer but ty for the free matcha tmrw yn 🩷 hehe

Without much thought, you switch back to the music app. You’re idly scrolling back and forth at the playlist, staring at the same five songs before you skim through your own library and add in one song, then a second, and a third. You’re primarily proud of your song choices, laughing at how Bed Chem glares at you from the screen. 

Your next door neighbors must think you’re insane from how quickly you press your face into the pillow and scream. The feeling of sixteen wraps around your twenty two year old body—the embarrassment, the excitement, the anticipation. You let yourself cringe, staying buried in the plushness of the fabric for a few seconds then mutter, “It’s fine, he’s probably not gonna see until he wakes up in the morning.”

Many times have you been proven wrong, but this time might be the worst.

01:05 A.M.  

antonio 🦕 :o antonio 🦕 very niceeee song choice 🌝

Your face goes hot. Your fingers go back and forth between the letter keys and the backspace bar, three dots appearing and disappearing on your chat with Anton. 

yn  whaaattt yn  i like the song 🙂‍↕️ antonio 🦕 i can tell

You abandon the comfort of your duvet and the cool silk of your pillow, sitting upright with disheveled hair and heat creeping up on the tips of your ears. 

antonio 🦕 didn’t expect that one so soon yn  why? :o yn  i’m mysterious like that  antonio 🦕 i don’t think bed chem is in character for a mysterious person tbh 😭 yn  there is mystery in that JDSJBHJABH

It’s almost half past one and your cheeks hurt from laughing. You wonder if on the other side of town, Anton’s smiling too with a flushed face. You pull the blanket over your head once more and type one-handed when you settle beneath it, preparing to close your phone.

yn  goodnight anton antonio 🦕 goodnight yn (again) antonio 🦕 thanks for adding the song antonio 🦕 i liked it too

When you set your phone down this time, sleep comes a little easier.

'Cause I always had a vision of us standing like this All pressed up in the bathroom line You're lookin' like an angel on the walls of Versailles The most alive I've ever been But kiss me and I might drop dеad

House Party - Shotaro’s Apartment, 2:30 A.M. 

This is your third time at Shotaro’s this month. If your past self were to ask why you frequented a place that you deemed dreadful just a few weeks ago, the answer wouldn’t be anything typical. You’ve been to frat parties and your communications lecture buddy, Jake’s, parties before for the sake of never spending a buck on a drink. This time, you’re here for a person. 

You should have been on your way home two hours ago. You’ve even outlasted Yizhuo, who decided that you and Yunjin could fend for yourselves and took a cab back home. It’s deeper into the night and more people crowd into the room to replace anyone who’s left. Another bottle cracks open, another song added to the queue, and a whole lot of other reasons to linger on Shotaro’s beer-stained couch keeps the night alive. It’s gotten to the point that the floors feel as sticky as they would be at a club, shoulder-to-shoulder with someone you can hardly recognize.

Somewhere by the kitchen, Shotaro is chatting with a group of people who’d only just arrived while Sungchan and Yunjin play beer pong on the counter. Much like the first time, you and Anton corner yourselves somewhere in the living room, close to the balcony. 

You shift your weight from one foot to another while pressing your thighs together, discarding your drink and leaving the cup to fend for itself with the other red cups on the coffee table. The drinks kick in in a way different to the bar; a little tipsy, just enough to have a flirty smile plastered on your glossy lips, but most importantly—you really need the bathroom. 

“Where’s the bathroom?” Anton already has a hand on your back, leading you through the scattered groups of people and turning towards the direction of the hallway. You’re alert enough to notice that the narrow corridor is housing a line long enough to spill into the wall connected to the kitchen, strangers waiting impatiently for the one bathroom Shotaro has.

You groan when you hear the lock click instead of seeing the door opening. And there were two more people in line before you could grace yourself with the toilet seat. “You’re actually joking,” you mutter under your breath, but it’s not quiet enough to sneak past Anton.

He’s against the wall behind you, huffing out a laugh that lands somewhere between your neck and your shoulders. You look back at him and furrow your brows defensively. Though the smile on your lips betrays you entirely and Anton can definitely tell.

“Looks like we’ll be here for a while,” he hums and shuffles forward as the line moves in small increments. He’s looking above your head to catch if the door’s showing any signs of opening. “Should have kept your drink.”

By now, as a seasoned senior, you should be used to the battle between shoulders colliding and having to shrink yourself in places like these. Still, someone who squeezes past bumps into your arm while carrying two cups of something that smells rancid. Anton’s hands find a way around your waist so naturally that you let yourself step back into his chest without a thought, nodding your head at the stranger apologizing. It takes a second to realize how his palm is over your stomach, pinky grazing against the exposed skin of your midriff. A breath catches in your throat, hoping that he doesn’t feel you tense against him. His hand stays there without a second thought. He doesn’t hover around in hesitation, planted and firm.

There’s nowhere else for it to go, you convince yourself. Not like I mind it.

“Comfortable?” Anton asks unsuspectingly.

You glance over your shoulder and see that he’s peering at you with an innocent look on his face. The hallway light is dim and warm, and as if the music wasn’t overstimulating enough, it starts to flicker. You suppose it’s not too bad when you keep your eyes locked onto Anton; light catching against the curve of his cheekbones, and as he turns his head close to your ear, his dark hair almost looks golden for a split second. It doesn’t feel fair—how prettily he stands behind you, how his lips curve upward when you know he’s listening intently, how he’s already busied himself with tugging your camisole down with his fingers. His knuckles brush against your stomach, cold against the heat of your skin. 

 “Very.” Your mouth twitches. You don’t trust yourself to say much more than that after he’s pulled you into this unplanned moment of weakness, on top of your unforgiving bladder. You’re thankful he takes your answer happily, humming into your hair. 

The last person leaves the bathroom and the line moves one person less. You and Anton move with it, hands still on you with each step. When Sungchan ducks to pass by the overhead decorations and into the hallway, he greets you and Anton with a whistle. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, like his little brother just won the lottery. 

Anton coughs into his fist and tells him to shut his mouth before Sungchan even has a chance to let a sound leave his lips. He just laughs with his hands up in defense before wandering off upstairs. 

Silence settles between you two but neither you or Anton make an effort to pry yourselves off of each other. You feel how his knee bumps into the back of your thigh once the next person slips into the bathroom and you’re in front of the line. You refuse to look back again and instead stare at the bathroom door with determination. Anything but him. You have an inkling that if you look up, he’s already looking back at you.

DEAN plays loud enough to permeate through the corridor and up the stairs, so you let the music carry the weight instead of conversation. With music, the words didn’t have to come from your own mouth and Anton would understand with how you perk up at the first note of instagram and your hips are moving in his hold. You don’t say anything about how you feel his grip tightening on your waist. From your peripheral view, you see his jaw clenched and his eyes anywhere but the bathroom door.

The lock finally clicks and the door swings open. Relief floods through you so quickly, you break out of the spell the song has you on and leap at the handle. You take your first step into the bathroom and turn around to shut the door, but you find that Anton is standing so close that his shoe is blocking it from shutting at all. You look up at him, mouth ready to call his name impatiently, but your eyes drop to where the light catches. His lips. They look more tempting under this light, peachy and with a satin sheen that makes you lick your own. He makes it significantly more difficult to remember why you’ve been in this line for so long. 

You would have stared longer if not for coughing behind you both. Sheepishly, you look back up at Anton. 

“You look like you were going to follow me inside.” You’re quick-minded in spite of the growing impatience settling in your abdomen. It’s not a pleasant feeling to stomach with all the flutter of thinking about kissing Anton—in front of the toilet, for that matter.

His eyes widen and he takes a step back to dislodge his shoe from between the door and the wall. “I wasn’t, I swear.”

“Really?” You raise your brow in suspicion. 

“I promise I wasn’t.” The look on his face is priceless, but his pink ears take the cake. A laugh escapes you and it makes Anton throw his head back and groan. Bashfully, he says, “I was just making sure nobody cut in line.”

His explanation makes sense, but it’s not well-received. You try to shake your feelings off and bask in how flustered he looks in front of you. The people in line seem to be eavesdropping, and you can hear others muttering in frustration but all of that is beyond you when Anton’s so visibly wrapped around your fingers.

“Well, thanks, Toni.” You place a hand against his chest before he can spew on his defences. You push back with barely any pressure, and you know Anton’s stronger than you are. Still, he immediately rocks back half a step. He looks like you’ve knocked the wind out of him with that measly shove. It’s a sight that deserves a spot at the very forefront of your mind, letting a satisfied smirk sit on your lips.

“Wait here, okay?”

He stares down at where your hand rests against his shirt. You feel him take a small breath and you’re suddenly thankful for Shotaro and his sparsely endowed apartment. He looks back at you with the same hopeless expression you’re familiar with—the one you wear when he’s close, or even when all you have of him is a text message saying Hi. The realization makes you grin.

“Good boy.” It slips out before you can backtrack, lifting your hand off his chest and closing the door before you can watch him recover. 

“What the hell,” The same hand on Anton’s chest crawls up your torso. It bunches up your cami, undoing all of Anton’s hard work in keeping your stomach covered, until it sits on your chest. A strong pulse beats underneath your palm. “What the fuck.”

You'rе so, so pretty, boy I'm paranoid I made you up Yeah, I'd love it if you walked me home If you promise, we can go real slow 'Cause I got chewing gum And a bunch of stuff I'd like to know [...]

Third Date - Cinema, 16:30 P.M.

The next time you see Anton, your eyes are blurry with tears and his arm is draped over your shoulder. His hand rubs your arm in comfort, but you’re too deep in your emotional mess that you miss the adoring (albeit worried) glint in his eyes.

Just as the credits roll and the lights come up, you sniffle against his shoulder and try to clean up the teardrops that you know will stain the fabric. “Sorry,” you mumble through his Henley. “I didn’t think it would make me cry like that.” “It’s okay, don’t worry.” Anton’s voice is warm. You get the same feeling on your skin as when he’s hugging you goodbye, hesitant to let you go even if you both know you’d call him not long after. He plants his hand on your shoulder, caressing your skin and tracing lazy circles with his thumb underneath your sleeve. The tension in your shoulders dissipates. Relaxed, you let yourself lean into Anton’s embrace. 

“The ending was sweet,” he says, nodding with his lips in that concentrated pout. “I liked that it worked out for them after everything.”

“Exactly!” Zealousness breaks through your weeping. Your immediate agreement makes Anton snort and pinch at your skin out of frustrated affection. “I spent the whole movie hoping they’d get back together.”

“I could tell, babe.” His hand has migrated lower, playing with the longer strands of your hair and rubbing his palm on your back to soothe you.

“I would have cried harder if they didn’t.” You lift your head and give him a glare. It’s not a sight Anton often sees, or at least, never on the receiving end, but it makes him chuckle rather than shiver. “That would have been your problem to solve.” 

“I think I could handle that pretty well.” You can tell he sounds sure of himself, but the gentle timbre of his voice and how his intonation lilts heavenward—you find yourself inching off your seat just so your knees can slot in their rightful spot between his. His smile is soft, doting; all the signs that make you believe that you’re not alone in love. 

Harsh light dawns on the theatre and more seats start to empty. You’re still wiping around the perimeter of your eyes, convinced that you’ve smudged off all your mascara onto Anton’s shirt and you’d face the world with an unpleasant case of panda eyes. Snot threatens to drip down, forcing you to scrunch your nose as you reach for your bag to find tissues. Nimble hands make their way in front of you, and before you know it, Anton’s dabbing the mess away for you with his navy blue handkerchief. 

Through your clumped up lashes, you watch Anton wipe away meticulously. He looks at you like this is the most important, most normal thing to do. His lips are even caught between his front teeth in concentration and oh God, there’s not a sight in the world better than this. Your back straightens up, eyes widening slightly, but your chest flutters with a kind of tenderness reserved for Anton: tranquil with a fluttery feeling underneath. You feel his hands shaking from a particular motion, like he’s afraid of pressing any harder. The handkerchief brushes your skin, his other hand ghosting over your cheek. You almost wish he’d go on ahead and cradle it in full force. 

The natural flow of things enthralls you. It’s tantalizing how Anton’s palms know right where to sit on your body, and it’s magnetic how he’s treating you like a book he’s read time after time, tabbed and annotated to oblivion. You’re tempted to get used to this. 

You want to get used to this and never have to bid goodbye to it at all. 

“See,” He cleans up with one last, gentle swipe and folds the handkerchief, letting it fall onto your lap. He even pats your knees, satisfied with his handiwork. “I’m handling it good already.”

“You just wiped my nose,” Your eyes trail after his every move; from rising up from his seat and standing in front of you. You blink once, twice, a few more times before your question escapes into the theatre.  “What base is it for someone to wipe your nose?”

You pretend to ponder on it, finger tapping your chin. “Sound like a boyfriend thing to do,” You straighten the front of your trousers and rise up to your full height, bending your leg at the knee to stretch your calves. “And for free too.” 

Anton shakes his head with a chuckle, reaching over your shoulder to grab your bag and slinging the strap over himself. “And another!” You gasp dramatically, hands over your mouth. 

“Chill, I’m practicing.” He says it insouciantly, which makes you throw your head back in fits of laughter. He even makes it a point to flaunt your bag on his shoulder, a hand wrapped low on the strap as he turns to the right to pose like you would, lips jutted and hip popped.

“You know what they say about couples who look like each other…” 

“Oh, so we’re a couple now?” 

“Our third date by the way–” Anton hums noncommittally. “...if you don’t count all the times I’ve stayed at your place and ransacked your eggs. I’m not letting you make the ‘A couple of friends!” joke. I’m taking this win.” He deadpans in a way that surprisingly doesn’t irritate you. Maybe it’s because of how his voice cushions the sass, or maybe—it’s just Anton. Either way, you let him take his little victories and hum back, content, “I would never.” 

“I know you’re lying.” His hip bumps into yours and you gasp out his name. His hands take this chance to grab your wrist before letting his palms slide down and clasp them with yours. “I could see you itching to say it. You were practically going to yell it at me.” You trail behind him and shove your shoulders onto whatever hard plane muscle you could reach. You sneak a poke at the plump flesh before letting your hand fall to your side.

His fond stare is directed at you the whole way out. His hand gently takes yours like a knight does with his princess; four fingers folded over his palm, guiding your steps down the stairs, maneuvering through spilled popcorn. 

The expanse of Anton’s back fills your vision, wide shoulders slightly slumped as you both walk out of the theatre. Neither of you point out the sweat transpiring in your hands when you reciprocate his grip, and him doubling down to tighten his hold on you, but your gaze locks onto the sight with a pleased smile. 

Outside, the city continues to bustle. Purple hues in the sky as the sun melts into the skyline, skyscrapers reflecting the warm light over the streets. There’s a chill breeze wafting through while you walk down the pavement, shuffling closer to Anton. Naturally, you fall in line beside him once there’s enough space. Your arm loops around his, pressing yourself into his body heat. His hands scuttle to find yours once more.

“Had fun?” You tilt your head towards him as you pass by the movie posters plastered on the cinema’s exterior. Fifteen minutes closer to your apartment with each step you take past a freshly pasted Supergirl poster, and then another minute once you cross paths with a foreign film you’re sure Anton would tag along to. 

“Yeah,” He glances over at you, brown eyes catching the last of the evening light. An amused sound sits at the back of his throat, “I always trust your taste, you know that. Queen of Letterboxd one liners.”

“Then should I be calling you King of Apple Music?” Words barely slip past your cackling. Your clasped hands sway uncontrollably, pressed to your stomach in an effort to control your laughter. The empty stretch of the pavement houses you and Anton’s mismatched steps, his long limbs slowing down as you try to calm yourself. Even so, Anton’s grinning from ear to ear, hiccuping quieter laughs right by you. 

There’s a cafe to your left, customers showing no sign of thinning out even as night falls upon the city. Anton nudges your shoulder gently, slowing down to read bits and pieces of their menu before uttering with confidence, “A matcha for the performer?” The gears in his head are so visibly turning that it makes your laugh spill over; struggling to project it as loud, but still so vibrant. Your stomach hurts from all the laughing you’ve done and you’ve still got a while to go until you’re home. 

When you laugh, it’s a contagion that Anton has found himself irrevocably vulnerable to. So much so that you find him silent for a moment. You almost think he’s seeing past you when you rebuttal with: “I see two performers here.” 

He clears his throat and narrows his eyes playfully, brows furrowed. He bumps your shoulder again, a bit harder than the last time, and you stagger into him with a grumble. You stabilize your footing, plant your heels to the ground, but you make no effort to move away. If anything, you’re closer than you were before; tucked into the shelter of his arm, readily available for you to loop into. 

From here, you can feel the warmth radiating off his body and onto yours. The firmness of his arms, the dip of his shoulders that curve behind yours just to keep you this close. You let your eyes trace along the lines of his baseball cap, the piercings crowding his ears, down to his sneakers, gaze falling to see how narrow the space between you had become. 

Silence blankets the remainder of your walk until you recognize the crossroads past the Asian supermarket. Anton takes a sharp right and you’re quiet as you stride alongside him. The shortest way to your apartment wouldn’t have been through here, and yet you say nothing. Your feet drag against the rocky path and pass by unsuspecting storefronts closing up for the day. 

Anton’s pace slows just enough to mirror your steps. “We should go to Japan next spring. I think it would be a lot of fun with you.” He doesn’t let you get a word in, the soft press of his thumb against your knuckle lulling you into listening. You suppose it helps that the streetlights make him look heavenly. 

“I know I’ve went with Taro and Sungchan, but I dunno,” his shoulders shrug naturally, the strap of your bag slipping halfway. He doesn’t dare unclasp your hands, opting to shrug the strap back up his shoulder and reinforcing it with his other hand. “You’re way more fun than them.”

Worlds shift beneath your feet, because in the couple of months you’ve stuck by Anton’s side—pestering him, testing his God-like patience, taking pride in making him blush and fumble over his words while standing at a whopping six foot—today is the first time you run out of words before him. Sentences have always come easy to him, you know this. The recurring philosophical questions and rhetorics, references to some piece of media you always seem to catch. But to fill the quiet was never something he felt the need to do. You’ve sat in comfortable silence, scrolling through your phones with his hand on your thigh. This feels different. He doesn’t seem to be chasing an end. Rather, he seems to be running from it with how thoughts waterfall from his mind and through his lips.

“Way prettier too.” 

You’re sure your mascara has smudged to your undereyes and that your lips are devoid of any of the color you’ve dabbed on before the movie, but the way you see Anton looking at you makes you feel anything but unsightly. The sweet smile on his face, how his cheeks are permanently rounded when he’s so clearly elated. All because of you. 

He halts by a streetlight, letting your back hit the metal. To your right, you can vaguely see the entryway to your apartment building. It makes you chuckle, lashes fluttering up at him. 

“Japan, huh?” You say finally, testing the waters with every syllable. You picture yourself, hand-in-hand with Anton and boarding a flight. You can imagine falling asleep on his shoulder and picking out outfits that match in ways unknown to others. You can see it all so vividly. 

“Next spring.” Anton confirms, already decided and seems to just be waiting for your approval. The lamp post is cool against your back. You’ve gotten used to the heat of Anton’s skin on yours warming you up, or the feel of his clothes protecting you from chilly air and cold metal. He looks entirely pleased when you give him the go ahead, nodding and timidly saying, “Okay.” It’s nearly lost between the hum of cars that drive past and the aunties that are bidding goodbye to their friends. Anton doesn’t miss it, though. He squeezes your hand in thanks.

The evening has settled into darkness, the lamp flashing over your figure. You peel yourself off the streetlight and take the first steps toward the warm light spilling from your building’s lobby. His hands stay in yours with every remaining stretch of pavement. When your shoes click against the tile of the entrance, he holds the lobby door for you without ceremony.

Inside, the lobby is swallowed up by still air and silence. You cross to the elevator and Anton reaches past you to press the button before you can. You let it happen, not even bothering to look back at him anymore. A satisfied smirk sits on his face, tilting his head up to join you in watching the display flash the descending floor numbers.

A soft chime echoes through the room. You’re lifting your soles off the tile, stepping into the elevator. Your hand feels bare without Anton’s, and your shoulders seem too light. You turn around to face Anton, mouth opening to ask about your purse. Instead, you’re met with a sense of deja vu. 

The door begins to slide shut, but Anton manages to put his shoe on the sensor. It jolts the door back open. You stare up at him in awe, the memory landing heavy on your chest before your mind can even react. He’s been looking at you since you set foot into your apartment building, but his eyes stare back with recognition. Maybe it’s the light, but you swear he looks a little shier than he did by the lamp post; back hunched, discounting a few centimetres from his stature. 

“You know, I feel like I’ve seen this one before.” Your eyes flicker between his face and his shoe, backed up to the edge of the elevator frame and jamming its sensor. The laugh you’re suppressing nearly escapes.

Anton looks the way he did standing in front of the bathroom door at Shotaro’s; mouth slightly parting in defense of himself, a flush creeping up his neck. His laugh comes off sheepish, hand lifting to rub at his nape. 

“I’m just making sure nobody cuts in line.” The corner of his lip quirks up, looking more smug than the usual softness you’re well acquainted with. You pointedly skim over the emptiness of the lobby and roll your eyes, pressing your lips into a fine line in hopes you don’t break into a smile so easily. That’s becoming a lot harder with Anton around.

He takes a step forward—enough to put his other foot down and leave the elevator door wide open. You don’t retract. If anything, you feel as though a string is tugging you towards him. You scan him up and down: button-up sleeves wrapped up, veins on his arms looking even more prominent in the bright light. You catch him doing the same to you, lips caught between his teeth and for a second, his tongue swipes his bottom lip looking over you.

You indulge in this little staring contest for a little bit, locking your gaze on him, expecting him to break. A stoic Anton was a stranger to you—all hooded eyes with a broody expression masking over the wide-eyed and usually straight-faced boy you know—and that made it all the more exciting. 

That’s when you decided it, then and there. You reach out to the button and hold the lift yourself, stepping back to make room. You’re still at the center of the elevator, right in Anton’s view, and you take advantage.

“Come on then,” You nod your head, signaling him to move forward. “I’ll let you through the door this time.” 

You see how something in Anton shifts. A quiet rearranging that happens while he steps inside the elevator and assumes his position behind you, hands itching to wrap around your waist and go from there. You press the button to your floor, and when you move back to your spot, you find your back flush against Anton’s chest. You can hear his sharp exhale and how it stirs the hair on your crown. 

Pretending not to notice him is proving to be difficult. It’s especially harder when the elevator dings and comes to an unplanned detour. Someone on the first floor steps inside, and Anton lets his hand rest on your waist after pulling you aside. He even nods at the man, innocently smiling while his fingers drum against your ribs, underneath your breasts. 

You attempt subtleties. You look back at him when you feel him pushing your backside even closer than it already is, greeted by his handsome, menacing face. His other hand has made it to your hips, sacrificing your bag in the process as it slips down to his forearm and scratches against the wall. 

Your savior comes in the form of the fifth floor—it dings, you hold the door open for the man and very quickly do you press the close button. Your fingers jam against it until the elevator door slides across, and Anton wastes no time. Your bag is long forgotten on the tiled flooring, both his hands cupping your face gently while his lips crash into yours with harbored greed. Soft pads of his fingers scared to even press against your cheek, mouth hungrily devouring you. You let him swipe his tongue over your lip and prod into your mouth, both your moans meshing together. The sound bounces off the walls and echoes with the wet, slick noises between your mouths. You can taste the faintest residue of your vanilla lip balm on him and it makes you smile into the kiss as it slows down. The fervor remains in the messy way Anton presses open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, coming back up with his tongue licking the side of your cheek. He misses your lips by a few centimeters, a wet kiss on the outline that leaves you with little patience.  

Neither of you have caught your breaths or said a word apart from a desperate exhale of your names, or a profanity that could barely contain what it really felt to be in Anton’s arms and kissing the living daylights out of each other. No word in the dictionary, not even in any of the Scrabble games you’ve both competed in relentlessly. You’re back on his lips without a thought for how swollen yours had become, hands wrapped around his neck and pressing your chest to his. You can feel the tent in his pants poking at your abdomen, and all it does is make you groan even harder into his mouth.

Anton’s hands make it a mission to roam every crevice of your clothed body, crumpling fabrics and letting his hands dip from your waist to your ass. He groans into your mouth when he gropes you through your jeans, dizzying from how perfectly you fit in his hands. 

“Fuck,” is all Anton says when he pulls off you. The moment lasts a few seconds; just enough time for his eyes to scan over your disheveled hair, mascara ruined tenfold from the movie, lipstick completely rubbed off. You see his gaze trail from your lips to your eyes, pupils blown out and shaking. He brings a hand to your cheek, letting his thumb rest on the middle of your bottom lip. He’s admiring how plush your lips look when he pushes down and you take this chance to take his thumb in, sucking the skin and letting your cheeks slightly hollow out. You keep your eyes on him—how he throws his head back with a guttural noise ripped straight from his throat, and how his thumb presses down your tongue. He nods at you, wordlessly prompting you to open your mouth and show him. 

You do as he says. Saliva pools beneath your tongue, dripping down Anton’s thumb until he retracts the pressure. He wipes his thumb on your bottom lip then puts his mouth on yours, lapping up your spit. The elevator dings once, and you’re both still on each other without a single breath in-between. Anton’s teeth graze your tongue, desperate whimpers slipping past that only make him smile smugly. The elevator sounds one more time, signaling your final stop and still, even as you try to pry yourself out of Anton’s grasp, his lips chase after yours and his eyes gleam in the golden light. Your chest is heaving when you’re finally apart, catching your breath before you can speak a word. Disoriented, you try to catch yourself from stumbling, or worse—giving into Anton before you even make it into your apartment. 

You offer your outstretched hands to him, nodding at the opening elevator door and dim corridors. “Are you going to continue what you started, or what?” 

If you let me stay the night Well, I think I might just have to stay forever

Morning After - Room 402, 10:30 A.M.

Light sifts through your blinds, pale and unhurried, stretching into your sheets and over your eyes. The sheets are the same as you’ve changed them the week before: butter yellow with a pale blue. The space next to you is wrinkled, but it’s empty like most mornings that you wake. 

What isn’t familiar to wake up to in a single’s studio apartment is the waft of coffee already brewing from the kitchen.

You shift to your side and Anton’s silhouette is the first thing you see. He hasn’t heard you yet; standing by the stove with a hand scratching at his head. You recognize the shirt he’s wearing as one of your ridiculously oversized shirts. On him, the shoulders cling a little tighter and the hem sits higher. He’s pushed the sleeves up and you can tell even from how he’s hunched over that what’s upon him requires his full concentration. Anton had never been friends with pans and stoves, but he’d slice you fruit the afternoons he’d laze in your room after swim practice. His head is dipped towards the pan, a spatula in another hand, and there’s a small furrow between his brows only outwon in fondness by the pout of his lips. 

The bed creaks as you move closer to the edge in an attempt to get a better view of Anton. Only, he turns and immediately catches your stare. His face relaxes upon realizing that you’ve woken up, eyebrows straightening out and an automatic smile gracing his features. He looks at you like he can’t quite believe you’ve risen, or that he’d be in your apartment with the birds chirping outside and daytime traffic filling what his jazz playlist doesn’t. Flecks of sunlight reflect on him, messy fringe dusting over his eyes. For some reason, a freshly-woken up Anton seems softer than ones you’ve seen before. Your mornings are looking promising enough to change your mind about being nocturnal, especially with a view like this.

“Morning,” He motions to the pan with the spatula he’s holding. “I’m making pancakes. I saw you had strawberries, so I cut them up to pair with.”

It takes a pause and a badly timed honk from downstairs until you say it back, croaking out, “Morning,” then clearing your throat. You throw the blanket off yourself and reach for your slippers. Hesitantly, you move towards him. Your steps feel weighted, looking entirely suspicious and only slightly bashful. “You didn’t have to–” “I wanted to.” Anton leaves no room for your protests as he turns back to the stove to flip a pancake. Your eyes drift to the stack growing right next to it, and two of your mugs sitting with steam overhead.

Morning rhythm ensues—a hand gripping your favorite of the two mugs, sipping your coffee—but you’re overcome by a shyness of having Anton around, wordlessly preparing food for you. You take another sip, but you hide your face with the mug. Anton looks up at you and chuckles, “Sit down, babe,” when you don’t move an inch, he bumps his hip into yours gently, careful to keep the coffee from spilling. “I got it. It’s almost done, so trust me.”

“My bad, you’ve never been in my kitchen for longer than ten minutes,” You sit, even if your snarky comments make him fake a scowl that quickly dissolves into a smile. “Don’t set my house on fire.”

By the time he’s set up everything in front of you and sat down, you’re the only one slicing through the pancakes and scouring for more syrup. Anton sits across with his arms folded, legs spread wide, watching over you with that same expression: contented, like he could fill his stomach up from just watching you eat. His stare makes the back of your neck heat up. 

You drop your fork away from your mouth and mutter, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Anton feigns confusion. He shrugs and his lips curve into an impish grin. “Just admiring my work.”

You scrunch your eyebrows up, he’s clearly not looking at the pancakes. When you follow his line of sight, your head is bowed down to see the dark marks flowering on your neck and down your chest. Your head snaps up, but nothing comes out even if you wanted to squeak out a tiny reprimand. Anton’s already trying to hide his laugh behind the raised mug.

You narrow your eyes at him and put the formerly abandoned piece of pancake into your mouth, chewing with conviction.

Friday I’m In Love hums softly in the background, chirping birds and frustrated drivers forgotten behind. You remember this one’s in his take a chance playlist that you hovered over many, many moons ago. You can’t resist the groove in your shoulders, bopping your head as you happily pop another piece in your mouth. 

“Hey,” Anton says eventually, finally biting into a strawberry.

“Hm?” You don’t look up, afraid of what might greet you and what could come out of it.

“Are you free next weekend?”

“Yeah, I probably am. Why?” 

He takes a long sip before uttering a, “No reason,” 

You look up and wait for something more. Maybe something from all the videos you send each other on places you want to go, food you want try. Nothing follows, just The Cure and an air of suspicion. You keep your eyes trained on him just enough for Anton to fidget around; folding his napkin twice and stirring his empty coffee cup.

“Well,” he begins, clearing his throat. Expectant eyes peer at you from across the table, knees brushing in the same way they did when you had first talked at the local bar. You recognize the tension in his shoulders and how his hands tap against the glossy wood—Anton’s nervous. His hand reaches for yours, but only enough so your fingers touch and overlap. “Now you’re not. Cause I’m taking my girlfriend out.”

The kitchen falls silent save for the whisper of the next queued song, you and Anton staring back at each other.

“Your girlfriend,” 

“Yup,” he nods, lips tucked together. “My girlfriend.”

You shake your head, elbow resting on the table and a hand against your forehead. For the first time, you’re not fighting off the smile that cracks on your face. Your laughter fills the room and in turn, Anton’s composure shatters into nothing. He’s laughing right with you, dropping his head and letting his whole hand engulf yours, trapping it underneath his palms.  

“She sounds like a really nice girl.” “Beautiful woman,” he agrees. “Very kind to me, really.”

You look down at your plate with a hopeless smile, completely giving up on keeping any kind of humorous indifference. What’s left between is a devastating fondness.

You blame Biochemistry I.

If that class didn't exist, you would have gone your entire university career blissfully unaware of Song Eunseok's existence. He would have stayed in his chemistry building, you would have stayed in your biology labs, and you both would have graduated with your perfect GPAs and your sanity intact.

Instead, here you are. Two years later. Biochem III. And apparently, the universe isn't done torturing you yet.

It all starts on a sunny Tuesday. You're walking to uni with your usual group of friends: Sohee, same major as you; Anton, a chem major; Yujin and Karina, both physics majors.

You take a deep breath through your nose. "Start of a fresh year and semester. Can you guys smell that?"

"What, the smell of despair that this part of uni always carries?" Yujin offers.

You throw an arm around her shoulders. "Well yes, but no, my dear friend. The smell of another year of success and thriving."

"You mean another year of you and Eunseok fighting over who gets better grades in biochem?" Sohee cuts in.

You scowl. "See, this would have been a perfect day if you didn't remind me of that."

"You guys are still going at it?" Karina asks. "It's your third year. Aren't you tired?"

You shrug. "I'll stop when he stops being an asshole."

Across the circle, Anton's eyes go wide. He starts making frantic gestures—jerking his head to the side, widening his eyes, the whole performance. You're too focused on your righteous indignation to register it.

"Asshole?"

The voice comes from behind you. Smooth. Infuriating. Familiar in a way that makes your eye twitch.

You turn. Of course. Song Eunseok stands there with his group—Sungchan, Seunghan, Wonbin, Shotaro and Sion. They must have been walking right behind you this whole time. Anton's signals suddenly make sense.

Eunseok presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. "That hurts deep, sweetheart. At least you could try and find a better insult, don't you think?"

"Fuck off, Song. Don't ruin my day this early."

He holds up his hands in surrender, but that insufferable smirk stays firmly in place. "Just because I'm nice, I'll go away this time." He takes a step backward, then pauses. "But don't miss me too much, okay?"

He blows you a kiss.

Sungchan grabs his arm and starts dragging him away before you can respond. Seunghan lingers just long enough to shoot your group an apologetic look before following.

The thing is—unfortunately for you—even though you have your own friend group, your circle and Eunseok's circle basically overlap. They all know each other. They're all friends, actually. Student council, shared classes, mutual acquaintances—somehow, you're all tangled up together.

Except for you and Eunseok. You two are the exception.

You watch them walk away, then round on your friends. "You see??? He always starts this shit."

Anton raises an eyebrow. "Well... to be fair, you did call him an asshole."

"I—well. It's what he is. And it's not my fault he likes to overhear other people's conversations."

Anton shakes his head, laughing.

Sohee checks his phone and his eyes go wide. "Shit. Y/N, we need to go. Molecular bio starts in five."

You're already moving. Yujin calls after you, "See you guys at lunch!"

You wave without looking back, and then you're through the doors of the biology building. Safe. For now.

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Your morning has been going great. Everything flowing smoothly back into the rhythm of classes. Molecular bio was fine, your professors seem decent, and you even managed to grab a good coffee on the way in.

But now? Now it's time for Biochemistry III.

You grab Sohee's arm and start pulling him toward the science building. "Let's go. I wanna get there so I can find a good seat."

"I'm going, I'm going," he grumbles, trailing behind you. "Jesus."

You both enter the classroom and it's still relatively empty. You claim a spot in the second row—close enough to see the professor clearly, far enough that you don't look like a teacher's pet. You and Sohee fall into an easy conversation, catching up about summer break, and you don't notice when the rest of the classroom fills up around you.

Your attention snaps to the front when the professor walks in and greets the class.

Professor Kim is the same one you've had for Biochem I and II. He knows you. He knows Eunseok. He definitely knows that you two existing in the same space is a hazard. So when he starts his usual first-day introduction, you let yourself relax.

Big mistake.

"Okay everyone, now for this year's evaluation," Professor Kim announces. "You will have a test worth 40% of your grade. But this year, I decided to do something different. You'll have a practical component worth 60%. This practical will consist of an essay worth 20%, a seminar presentation of that essay topic worth another 20%, and finally, the lab component worth the remaining 20%. This will last all semester and will be done in pairs."

The classroom erupts into chatter.

"Settle down, everyone." Professor Kim holds up a hand. "I know you're all already planning partners, but I will be the one doing the pairing."

The whole class groans in unison.

He pulls out a clipboard. "I'll start pairing now."

You zone out a little, mentally running through who you'd want to work with if you had a choice. Sohee, obviously. Maybe that quiet girl in the back who actually does her readings—

Sohee suddenly cheers next to you, spinning around to dab up someone behind him. You turn. Anton. You must have missed him entering class. Of course. Of course Sohee gets paired with his best friend.

Lucky bastard.

"L/N Y/N..." Professor Kim scans his paper. "And Song Eunseok."

Everything stops.

The chatter around you shifts—whispers, giggles, a few people openly turning to stare. You're already on your feet before you fully process it. Across the room, Eunseok stands at the exact same moment.

"Professor, this has to be a mistake. Surely," you say, trying to sound reasonable and not like you're about to commit a crime.

"I request re-pairing on academic incompatibility grounds," Eunseok says smoothly, and you shoot him a glare. Who does he think he is, using big words to sound smarter while also trying to escape you?

Professor Kim looks between you both with an amused glint in his eye. Like this is entertaining to him. "You both sit down. I am not changing pairs. This will be good for you—force you to work on teamwork."

You drop back into your seat with a huff loud enough to make Sohee wince.

He pats your shoulder carefully, like you're a bomb about to go off. "It could be worse, Y/N. It could be someone who doesn't work at all."

"No offense, Hee, but I would rather do all the work alone than work with dipshit over there."

Behind you, Anton giggles. You throw him a pointed look over your shoulder and his hands shoot up in immediate surrender.

You groan and drop your forehead onto the desk, letting it thunk against the surface a few times for good measure. Under your breath, you murmur every curse word you know. A few hexes too, just for good luck.

When you finally look up, you make the mistake of scanning the room.

Eunseok is already looking at you.

Of course he is.

He smirks. Then—slowly, deliberately—he brings two fingers to his lips and blows you a kiss.

You stare back with a look that should put him six feet under.

He just smiles.

Anton and Sohee exchange a glance over your head. "This is gonna be a long semester," Anton sighs.

The rest of class passes in a blur. You don't hear a single word Professor Kim says about the syllabus. You're too busy plotting how to survive this without committing murder.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

When class is finally dismissed, you're the first one out the door. You need air. You need to scream. You need to find a hole to crawl into and never come out.

Sohee and Anton catch up to you quickly. Sohee loops an arm around your shoulder, steering you toward the path off campus. "Let's go to the café. Karina and Yujin are already waiting."

You let yourself be dragged.

The café near campus is busy, but your friends have already claimed a table by the window. You drop into a seat across from Karina, scowl firmly in place.

Karina raises an eyebrow. "What could have possibly happened in morning classes that has you looking like that already? It's the first day back."

"Right?" Yujin teases. "You were so happy and joyful this morning."

You open your mouth to answer, but Sohee beats you to it. "The biochem professor paired her with Eunseok for a semester's worth of work."

Karina and Yujin exchange a look. Then they both start snickering.

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on that classroom wall," Yujin says.

Anton leans forward eagerly. "You missed them both jumping up at the same time to beg the professor to change partners. It was like a coordinated attack."

They giggle. Karina turns to Anton. "Who did you get paired with?"

Anton grins and slings an arm around Sohee's shoulders. The two of them beam like they've won the lottery.

"Lucky bastards," you mutter. Then, louder: "The teacher did this on purpose. I'm sure of it. He knows me and Ass Song don't get along at all."

Yujin tilts her head. "Maybe you can try and resolve your differences? Or whatever you guys have going on?"

Karina's eyes light up with mischief. "Maybe the teacher is trying to make his own rivals-to-lovers show happen right in his classroom."

Sohee snorts into his drink.

You give Karina the most disgusted look you can muster. "Take that back."

She just laughs.

Yujin shrugs. "I mean... he is good looking. And there's definitely some tension between you two..."

You slap both hands over your ears. "La la la la la. Can't hear you."

The table dissolves into laughter.

You drop your hands and glare at all of them. "Can we just have lunch before I barf what I don't even have in my stomach yet? Thanks."

They're still chuckling when the food arrives, but you're too busy eating—and thinking—to join in.

You need a plan. A strategy. A way to survive this semester with your grades and your sanity intact.

Easier said than done.

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When you finally get back to your dorm room, you're greeted by the familiar scent of your incense. You breathe it in deep, letting it ground you.

It's a small dorm—barely big enough for a bed, a desk, and a closet—but you're lucky enough to have a private bathroom and a mini kitchen. A luxury in student housing terms.

"Finally," you murmur.

You toe off your shoes, drop your bag by the door, and launch yourself onto the bed. Face-first. Into the pillow.

And then you scream.

It's muffled and probably sounds unhinged to anyone passing by in the hallway, but you don't care. You let the day's frustration pour out until your lungs burn.

Your phone dings.

You groan, fumbling for it blindly.

Unknown Number: hey

You squint at the screen.

You: who is this

Unknown Number: the greatest partner you'll ever have in your life ;)

Your blood runs cold. Then hot. Then cold again.

Fucking Eunseok.

You: who gave u my number

Song Eunseok: anton

You make a mental note to kill Anton tomorrow. Slowly. Painfully.

You: so what do u want

Song Eunseok: well partner we need to figure out how we're gonna do this project

You: meet me after classes at 5 pm near the cafe. and dont be late

Song Eunseok: yes ma'am. don't wanna upset miss scholar over here

You bury your face in the pillow again and scream. Louder this time.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Dinner is takeout. You're too drained to cook, too irritated to pretend otherwise. Some greasy noodles from the place down the street become your dinner, eaten cross-legged on your bed while some random Netflix movie plays in the background.

You're not really watching it. You're just... existing. Letting the noise fill the space so you don't have to think.

Eventually, sleep pulls you under.

You need it. A good night's rest, because God knows you'll need every ounce of strength to deal with the devil tomorrow.

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It's 4:55 PM and you're pushing open the door to the café, fully prepared to wait at least ten minutes for Eunseok to show up like the inconsiderate asshole he is.

He's already there.

Sitting at a table by the window. Two drinks in front of him. Looking annoyingly comfortable, like he owns the place.

You swallow your irritation and drop into the seat across from him. No hello. No pleasantries. Just: "How are we doing this?"

Eunseok raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. You're the one who likes to be bossy all the time. Now you're not?"

You paste on your most sarcastic smile. "I was trying to be nice. Give you a chance to think about something in your life for once."

"Wow. Generous."

"Fine." You lean back, crossing your arms. "I'll tell you my plan. We pick a topic we're both good at. I do the bio part, you do the chem part. In a few weeks, we meet up again to put it all together."

Eunseok tilts his head. "And the lab?"

"You stay out of my way and let me work. I don't bother you, you don't bother me."

He lets out a short laugh. "Me stay out of your way? Sweetheart, I'm not the one in this conversation who got a 80% in Biochem II lab, am I?"

Your jaw tightens. The jab lands exactly where he aimed it—right in the sore spot you've been trying to ignore. You don't give him the satisfaction of an explanation. You don't tell him about the family emergency that semester, the sleepless weeks, the way that grade still haunts your GPA.

You just stare him down. "Do we have a deal or not?"

Something flickers in his expression. Too fast to name. Then it's gone.

"Sure." He shrugs like he couldn't care less. "Let's meet in a month to see how we're doing. Let's just pick a topic and get this over with. I have better shit to do than be here."

"Like I wanna be here either," you mutter under your breath.

You manage to agree on a topic in record time—something boring enough to be safe, interesting enough to pass. Then you're both out of your seats and heading in opposite directions without a backward glance.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You stop by your dorm just long enough to change into something more comfortable. Sweatpants. An oversized hoodie. The uniform of someone who needs to decompress.

Tonight is a small gathering at Anton and Sohee's apartment—just dinner, drinks, and the familiar chaos of your friend group. It's close to campus, maybe a ten-minute walk, which means you don't have to think too hard about navigating there on autopilot.

You're the last to arrive, because someone had to be responsible and pick up drinks on the way.

Sohee opens the door with a grin, immediately snatching the bags from your hands. "My hero."

"Where's Anton?"

He jerks his head toward the kitchen. "In there."

"Thanks." You step inside, past the girls already settled on the couch, and take a deep breath.

"ANTON LEE."

The volume startles Karina and Yujin, who whip around with wide eyes. Sohee freezes mid-step, drinks still in hand, looking confused as hell.

In the kitchen doorway, Anton freezes too.

"Y-Yes?"

You march toward him. "What made you think it would be a good idea to give my number to Eunseok and NOT TELL ME?"

His face cycles through several expressions—confusion, realization, fear—before settling on something pitiful. "Well... he asked? Said it was for the project? I didn't know I wasn't supposed to—" He pouts. Actually pouts.

The anger drains out of you as fast as it came. You deflate with a sigh. "Fuck. Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. You didn't do anything wrong. Just... give me a heads-up next time, okay?"

He brightens immediately, nodding eagerly.

Sohee appears behind you, handing you a drink. "Can we eat now? I'm starving."

You take the drink and let him steer you toward the living room, where food is already spread out on the coffee table. The night dissolves into what you needed it to be—loud laughter, terrible game decisions, the warmth of people who don't require explanations.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

By 1 AM, you and the girls are ready to head back to the dorms. Karina and Yujin share a room next to yours, so the walk home is a group effort.

"Bye, guys. See you tomorrow," you call over your shoulder.

Sohee waves from the doorway. Anton is already half-asleep on the couch behind him.

You're halfway down the path when you remember. You spin around. "SOHEE. Don't forget your lab coat tomorrow. Biochem lab at four."

He gives you a thumbs up. Or a middle finger. It's too dark to tell. You decide to believe it was a thumbs up.

Karina loops her arm through yours as you walk, Yujin on her other side. The campus is quiet this late, streetlights casting soft pools of light along the path.

"You okay?" Karina asks quietly.

You think about it. The project. Eunseok's stupid face.

"Yeah," you say. And mean it. "I will be."

The dorm building comes into view. Tomorrow is another day. Another battle. But for now, you have good friends, a full stomach, and the kind of tired that promises actual sleep.

It's enough.

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The day you've been dreading arrives earlier than expected.

Your head throbs gently from last night's drinks—nothing debilitating, just a persistent reminder that maybe downing that last shot with Karina wasn't your smartest move. Especially not the night before your first lab session with Eunseok as your official partner.

You, Sohee, and Anton walk into the biochem lab together. They peel off toward one of the benches near the window, already chatting about something stupid, while you make your way to the bench where Eunseok is already seated.

You nod at him. Barely. The bare minimum of acknowledgment required to function as human beings sharing a workspace.

He takes one look at your face and grins.

"Too much fun last night, huh? Right before lab." He clicks his tongue. "So rebellious of Miss Academic."

You drop your bag onto the bench with more force than necessary. "Did you come with the asshole factory setting, or did you acquire it later in life? I'm genuinely curious."

Behind Eunseok, Seunghan—his best friend, who's taking this class as an elective—lets out a bark of laughter. "She clocked you, not gonna lie."

Eunseok turns and flicks his forehead. "Whose side are you on?"

Seunghan just shrugs, still grinning.

Before Eunseok can retaliate, the professor walks in and starts handing out the protocol sheets. You reach for yours—

Eunseok snatches it first.

"Excuse me. I was reading that."

He holds it just out of your reach, scanning the page. "Well, I gotta read it too, partner. Don't you think?"

You bite back the first five responses that come to mind. Not worth it. Not in front of the whole class. You settle for a long, slow exhale through your nose and turn to gather materials instead.

The first part of the lab goes... okay. Stilted. Functional. You work on opposite sides of the bench, communicating in grunts and pointed silences. It's almost sustainable.

Then you reach the final part of the protocol.

You pick up the micropipette.

Eunseok's head snaps up. "Why are you doing that part?"

"Because I reached it first. And I'm used to doing this."

"And I'm not?" He reaches for the pipette. "Give it to me. I can do it better."

"You literally don't even know what volume we're—"

"I know how to read a protocol, thanks."

"Then read it and back off—"

"You back off—"

Your hands are both on the pipette now. The bench vibrates. A beaker near the edge wobbles once, twice—

Crash.

Solution spills across the bench, dripping onto your lab coats, pooling around the equipment. You both freeze.

"You see what you did?" You yank the pipette free. "If you'd just stayed quiet and let me do this, this would not have happened."

"Me?" He stares at you, incredulous. "You knocked it down."

"I—"

"Something wrong here?"

The professor appears at your elbow like a particularly inconvenient ghost. You force your face into something resembling calm and paste on a smile.

"No, sir! Just a little spill. We'll clean it right up."

The professor eyes you both. Suspiciously. For a long moment. Then he nods and moves on.

Eunseok mutters under his breath, "Kiss ass."

You shoot him a look that could kill.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The rest of the lab is spent in tense, meticulous silence. You clean up together—physically close but emotionally light-years apart—and somehow manage to finish the protocol without any more disasters.

When class ends, you're packing your bag with aggressive, jerky movements. Eunseok slings his bag over his shoulder and pauses.

"Don't get in my way next time, sweetheart. Okay?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. Just walks off toward the door like he didn't just ruin your entire morning.

You stare after him. Your hand closes around the nearest object—a textbook, heavy, perfectly throwable—and you're already calculating the trajectory when someone grabs your wrist.

"Y/N. No."

Anton. Of course.

"He's just trying to get under your skin," Anton says gently, prying the book from your fingers. "Don't let him."

You drop your forehead into your palm and groan. Long. Loud. From the soul.

Sohee appears on your other side, patting your shoulder sympathetically. "One lab down. How many more to go?"

"The rest of the semester," you say into your hand. "The rest of my life. Forever."

"It's not forever."

"It feels like forever."

They walk you out of the lab, one on each side like bodyguards escorting a witness in danger. Which, honestly? Accurate.

Another day of dealing with the devil done.

You might actually go insane by the end of this semester.

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Two weeks of successfully ignoring Eunseok and avoiding fights with him. Two weeks of peaceful, blissful, rivalry-free existence.

And now you have to ruin it by calling him.

You stare at his contact name—"Ass Song (do not answer)"—for a full thirty seconds before finally pressing call. He picks up on the third ring.

"Sweetheart." His voice drips with amusement. "Miss me so much you're calling me now?"

"Please. You flatter yourself too much." You lean against your desk, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I need you to send me your part of the project. We have to deliver the first draft tomorrow."

A pause. You can practically hear him smirking.

"Sure. I'll send it right now."

You blink. No argument? No jab about you being bossy or rushing him?

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

You hang up before he can say anything else.

True to his word, his file arrives in your inbox five minutes later. You merge it with yours without actually looking at it—future you problem—and submit the whole thing to the professor with a relieved sigh.

One less thing to worry about.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Your dorm feels too small tonight. Too quiet. You fire off a text to the group chat.

You: hey are u guys in ur dorm? im bored and wanna hang

Karina: come over!!

Yujin: door's open <3

You grab your pillow (their couch is somehow always uncomfortable) and make the short trip next door.

You knock once before pushing in. "Sup, ladies! What are y'all up to?"

Karina looks up from her bathroom mirror, face half-covered in green clay. "We were about to do our skin care and were literally about to call you."

Yujin waves from her spot on the floor, already in pajamas. "Great minds think alike."

You drop onto the couch and accept the sheet mask Karina tosses at your face.

The next hour is peaceful in the way only girl nights can be—face masks, gossip, the low hum of a playlist in the background. But you notice Yujin keeps glancing at her phone. Smiling at it. The kind of smile that has nothing to do with whatever Karina is saying about her physics TA.

You narrow your eyes. "What's got you so interested in that phone of yours?"

Yujin looks up, and her cheeks go slightly pink. "Well... I've been talking to this guy. Sion."

Karina gasps. "WAIT. The one you were crushing on in thermodynamics class last year? That Sion?"

"The very same."

"How?! How did this happen? Spill everything right now."

Yujin tucks her legs under her, clearly trying to play it cool but failing miserably. "Okay, so you know how me and my ex—Chaeyoung—stayed friends after we broke up first year?"

You nod. Chaeyoung is a legend in your circle purely for how gracefully she handled that situation.

"Well, I ran into her at the cafeteria last week. She was with her new friend group, and Sion was there. I got all weird and awkward—" Yujin makes a face "—and she must have noticed, because she texted me later. Asked if I still thought he was cute."

Karina squeals. Yujin shushes her.

"I told her the truth. And she... set us up. Wingwoman ex-girlfriend style."

You stare at her. "That's one hell of a nice ex. I'm genuinely impressed you two stayed on such good terms that she's actively wingwoman-ing for you now."

Yujin grins. "Right? But anyway. We've just been texting for now. Nothing serious." She pauses. "We do have a date this Saturday, though."

Karina launches herself at Yujin in a hug that nearly knocks them both over. "OMG. We need to help you pick outfits. Full fashion show. You're trying on everything you own."

Yujin laughs, hugging her back. "Deal."

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You stay up way too late. Gossip turns into deep talk turns into random YouTube videos turns into Karina attempting to read everyone's palms.

At some point, you stretch out on the couch and sigh contentedly.

"Can I sleepover tonight?" you ask. "I know I'm literally next door, but we don't do this as much anymore. Third year is so packed with stuff."

Karina side-hugs you from her spot on the floor. Yujin nods from her bed.

"Of course, babe," Karina says. "One big sleepover like old times. It's been due."

You end the night squished together on various surfaces, watching rom-coms and ruthlessly making fun of every unrealistic moment.

"They would never catch that flight in real life," you mutter.

"He literally just ran through an airport without a ticket. Security would never."

"He's hot though," Karina offers.

"Doesn't matter. Realism matters."

Yujin throws a pillow at you. You throw it back.

Eventually, one by one, you all fall asleep—warm, safe, and exactly where you're supposed to be.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You like to call this week "Stay Tuned: Will I Survive Midterms or Will They End Me?"

Except midterms haven't even started yet. It's Friday. The calm before the storm. And instead of using this precious, sacred, once-in-a-lifetime weekend to prepare for the hell that awaits you on Monday, you've been sitting in this study room for five hours, watching your brain slowly liquefy.

Four midterms. Five days. Starting Monday. Who in their right mind would schedule bioinformatics, molecular biology, biochemistry, and statistics in a single week? The answer, apparently, is your university's scheduling committee—a group of people who have clearly never experienced the existential dread of trying to memorize metabolic pathways while running on three hours of sleep and pure spite.

You're currently in a study room you booked specifically so you could have peace and quiet. No roommates. No friends asking to grab food. No distractions.

Just you and the abyss.

Five hours. Five. Your back hurts. Your eyes burn. And you've been staring at the same bioinformatics slide for what feels like an eternity, except the words have stopped making sense and now they just look like random letters arranged in a cruel, meaningless pattern.

You drop your head into your hands and let out a desperate sigh that echoes off the walls.

Why did you choose this major? Why didn't you just do something easy?? Like professional napping?

The door opens.

You don't look up immediately. Probably Sohee, coming to check on you, or maybe a stranger who booked the room after you—except you have it until 8 PM, so—

"Thought this room was supposed to be for studying, not for hosting a funeral."

You know that voice.

Your head snaps up. Eunseok stands in the doorway, one shoulder leaning against the frame, looking annoyingly well-rested. Like he didn't just walk out of a perfectly good nap while you've been here slowly decomposing over a laptop.

"What do you want?" Your voice comes out dry. Sandpaper. You haven't had water in three hours.

He steps inside, letting the door close behind him. "Just came to check up on you." His eyes sweep over the disaster zone that is your study space—crumpled papers, empty energy drink cans, your laptop with seventeen tabs open. "This room reeks of desperation."

"Eunseok." You press your fingers to your temples. "I don't have the patience for your remarks right now. I really, really don't."

"Don't be like that, sweetheart." He's moving closer now, and there's something in his hands you can't quite see. "I'm only here to grace you with my presence. I even brought you something."

He sets a bag on the corner of the table. A familiar logo. Your favorite coffee shop. The one ten minutes off campus that you never have time to go to anymore.

Something inside you snaps.

"Why are you really here?" The words come out sharp, jagged. You push back from the table, chair scraping against the floor. "Does this seem funny to you? I have four midterms starting Monday. Four. And you show up here—" Your voice cracks. You hate that it cracks. "What, to watch me lose my mind? Get a front-row seat to the breakdown before finals even start?"

He blinks. "I—I was just—"

"You were just what?" You're standing now. Your hands are shaking. You can't tell if it's from hunger, caffeine, or the overwhelming pressure of knowing that everything hinges on next week. "Trying to sabotage me? Distract me so I fall behind before the first exam even hits? Or worse—coming here to antagonize me so I go into midterms already defeated?"

His jaw tightens. "That's not what this is."

"No? Then what is it, Eunseok?" You laugh, but there's nothing funny about it. "Because that's what you do, isn't it? Every single class, every single project, every single grade. You have to be there. You have to be better. You have to rub it in my face every chance you get."

"Where is this coming from—"

"And now you show up here, with coffee from my favorite place, like you're some kind of—what? Good Samaritan? Like you actually care?" Your voice is rising. You can't stop it. The words are pouring out now, all the stress and exhaustion and three years of never quite measuring up finally finding an outlet. "You want to see me break. That's what this is. You saw me struggling and thought you'd come watch. Maybe get a laugh. Maybe take a picture so you can remember the moment you finally beat me."

He stares at you. His face is very still. Too still.

"Is that really what you think of me?"

"Tell me I'm wrong." You're breathing hard now. "Tell me you didn't come here just to see me like this."

He doesn't answer right away. And in that silence, something in his expression shifts. The easy amusement is gone. The playful smirk. Everything. What's left is something you've never seen on his face before.

Hurt.

"Wow." His voice is quiet. Controlled. "Good to know that's what you think."

He reaches into his bag. You hadn't even noticed he had more. He pulls out a sandwich. A banana. A pack of your favorite chips—the pink ones you always grab from the vending machine. The ones you didn't even know he knew you liked.

He drops everything onto the table. The coffee sloshes against the lid.

"I saw you through the window." His voice is steady, but there's something underneath it that you've never heard before. Something raw. "You looked like you were about to pass out. Or cry. Or both. And even though we're not—" He stops. Exhales sharply through his nose. "I thought you might need food. And coffee. Because believe it or not, I'm not actually a monster."

He steps back. The space between you suddenly feels like a canyon.

"But apparently, I'm always the bad guy in your story." He holds your gaze for a moment. His jaw works, like he's swallowing something he wants to say. "So I'll gladly 'fuck off.' Have fun with your midterms. Wouldn't want to sabotage you."

He turns. Walks to the door. Doesn't look back.

The door slams behind him with a sound that echoes through the small room and settles deep in your chest.

You stand there for a long moment. Frozen. The silence presses in on all sides.

Your eyes drift to the table. The coffee. The sandwich. The chips. The stupid banana like he was actually concerned about your potassium intake.

The coffee from the shop ten minutes away.

He went off campus. For you.

He saw you through the window. He went out of his way. He brought you your favorite coffee, and snacks, and he didn't even ask for anything in return. He just... wanted to help.

And you threw it in his face.

Your hands are shaking. You slide back into your chair, suddenly boneless. A tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it. Then another. Then a sob catches in your throat.

You bury your face in your hands and let them come.

You fucked up.

You really, really fucked up.

And now you have to get through the worst week of the semester carrying this guilt with you.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You're in your dorm now, replaying what happened a million times in your head.

The coffee. The chips. The look on his face right before he walked out.

You don't even know what got into you. You never should have let the rage get the best of you. He was just trying to help. He went off campus. He brought your favorite coffee. And you—you threw it in his face like he was the enemy.

Fuck.

You're still sitting on your bed, staring at nothing, when a knock comes at the door.

You drag yourself up and open it. Karina and Yujin stand on the other side, already dressed up, energy buzzing off them like they've been mainlining caffeine.

"Get ready," Karina announces, pushing past you into the room. "We're going to a party."

You blink. "A what? No. Guys, I'm not in the mood."

"Yeah, no." Yujin follows Karina in, already heading for your closet. "You're going. You need to let loose before midterms week. You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

She's not wrong, but that's not the point.

You cross your arms, giving them your most stubborn look. "I said I'm not—"

"You're going, and that's final." Karina grabs your arm and starts steering you toward the bathroom. "Go shower. Me and Yujin will pick an outfit for you."

"We need to hurry," Yujin adds, already rifling through your clothes. "Anton and Sohee are picking us up."

You pause at the bathroom door. "Whose party even is this?"

"Seunghan's," Karina calls over her shoulder. "At his shared apartment with Wonbin and Sion."

Your stomach drops. Seunghan. Which means Eunseok will probably be there. Eunseok, who you screamed at four hours ago. Eunseok, who you accused of trying to sabotage you.

You eye Yujin, who is suddenly very focused on sorting through your tops. "I see why you want to go so badly."

A flush creeps up her neck. "Ugh. Well." She waves you off. "Go shower. We're gonna be late."

You laugh despite yourself and step into the bathroom.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

When you get out, the outfit is laid out on your bed like a verdict.

A red leather skirt. Thigh-high boots. A black bodysuit that definitely shows more than you usually show. The whole thing screams attention.

You stare at it. Then at Karina.

She throws her hands up defensively. "Girl, you need to look hot. Maybe find a man while you're at it."

You open your mouth to argue, then close it. You don't have the energy to fight tonight. You're already drained from the study room, from replaying Eunseok's face, from the guilt sitting heavy in your chest.

You put on the outfit. Do some light makeup—enough to look alive, not enough to look like you're trying. When you catch your reflection in the mirror, you almost don't recognize yourself.

Hot, Karina's voice echoes in your head. Maybe find a man.

The last thing you need is more complications.

Your phone buzzes.

Anton: out front

Karina grabs your hand. "Let's get this party started."

Yujin is already halfway out the door, and you let yourself be pulled along, the weight in your chest only getting heavier with every step.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The ride to the party is lively. Sohee is already buzzed—definitely from pre-gaming if the slight slur in his voice is anything to go by.

"You didn't tell us you were pre-gaming before the party, Hee," Yujin says from the back seat.

Sohee twists around to look at her. "Yeah, because when you guys pre-game, me and Anton have to babysit the three of you. I wanna make the most of this party." He gestures between himself and you. "Y'all don't have four midterms next week. I need to let loose before them."

You smile a little at the girls bickering with Sohee. Maybe this will be fun. Maybe you should let loose.

Anton parks the car, and everyone piles out.

You stop in front of the building and your brain short-circuits. This isn't a normal apartment. This is a full-on house. Three stories, nice exterior, the kind of place you'd expect to see in a movie about rich college kids, not actual people you know.

Anton follows your gaze. "Yeah, they're loaded. Three live in one apartment, the other three in another. Top floor is storage, from what I heard."

You shoot him a confused look but don't question how he knows so much. Anton is like that—collects information like a magpie collects shiny things.

Karina bounces on her heels. "Let's go, guys. Party's already started."

You step inside and the noise hits you first. Then the smell—alcohol and something sweet, bodies pressed together, music vibrating through the floorboards. The party is already full blast, people spilling across two floors, cups in hand, dancing like there's no tomorrow.

Sohee and Anton peel off immediately to find Seunghan. Yujin practically floats toward the kitchen, probably looking for Sion.

That leaves you and Karina.

"Drinks?" she asks.

"Drinks."

You push through the crowd to the kitchen, which is somehow just as packed. Karina grabs a beer and hands it to you, but your eyes are fixed on the row of bottles on the counter.

"Pass me the tequila."

She raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"

You don't answer. Just reach for the bottle and pour yourself a shot. Then another.

Karina watches you with growing concern. "Babes, maybe slow down?"

You're already pouring the third. "I'm fine, Rina. Not even buzzed yet."

That's a lie. You can feel the warmth spreading through your chest, the edges of your thoughts starting to blur. But that's the point. You want to forget today. You want to scrape the guilt out of your ribcage and leave it here, on this sticky floor, where it can't follow you into midterms week.

Someone calls Karina's name from across the room—a friend from her physics class.

"You gonna be okay?" she asks, already half-turned toward the voice.

"Yeah." You grab your beer. "Gonna dance a little."

She squeezes your hand and disappears into the crowd.

You lose yourself on the dancefloor. The music is loud enough to drown out thoughts, the bass heavy enough to vibrate through your bones. You close your eyes and let it happen—let your body move, let the alcohol blur the edges, let the guilt loosen its grip just enough to breathe.

At some point, the heat becomes too much. Too many bodies. Too loud. You need space.

You stumble toward the stairs—definitely drunk now—and make your way up to the second floor. It's quieter here. Fewer people. The ones that are around are either deep in conversation or pressed against walls, too occupied to notice you.

You wander down the hallway, looking for somewhere to sit, and spot a door slightly ajar. Probably the bathroom. You push it open—

And walk straight into someone's chest.

Hands catch your waist to steady you. You look up, already forming an apology, and the words die in your throat.

Eunseok.

His face shifts from surprise to something harder to read. Your stomach drops. The guilt comes rushing back, sobering you faster than anything else could.

"Hi." Your voice comes out slurred. "I—hey. So."

He stares at you for a beat. "You're drunk." It's not a question. "Jesus."

He pulls you into the room—his room, you realize, glancing at the photos on the wall, the familiar jacket draped over a chair, the mess of textbooks on his desk. A room that feels painfully him.

"Sit." He guides you to the edge of his bed. "I'm going to get one of your friends."

"No." Your hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist before you can stop yourself. "Can you—can you stay? I need to talk to you."

He hesitates. You can see the war playing out on his face—the part of him that wants to walk away, the part that's too stubborn to leave you like this.

He sighs and grabs a bottle of water from his desk. "Drink this. You need to sober up."

You take it, drinking obediently while he crouches in front of you. His eyes scan your face, searching.

"I've never seen you this drunk." His voice is quieter now. "What the hell is up with you?"

You press a hand to your chest, right over the spot that's been heavy all night. "Wanted to get rid of this feeling." You look at him. "Guilt."

He frowns. "Guilt?"

"I'm sorry." The words tumble out before you can stop them. "This afternoon. I was—I was overwhelmed, and I blew up on you. And all you did was try to help me."

A tear slips down your cheek. He watches it fall, something flickering in his expression.

"You brought me coffee." Your voice cracks. "From the shop ten minutes away. And snacks. And I—I said all that stuff. I know you're not the type of person to sabotage someone. I just needed someone to blame in case midterms go wrong. And you were there. And I'm sorry."

He's quiet for a long moment. Then he sighs and reaches up, wiping the tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"I know you didn't mean it." His voice is softer than you've ever heard it. "Don't worry about it, okay?" He pauses. "I just want you to know that even if we're 'rivals'..." He does air quotes. "Doesn't mean I don't care."

He settles onto the bed next to you. Close. Closer than he needs to be.

The tequila is still buzzing in your veins, lowering every wall you've ever built. You turn to look at him. Really look.

His eyes. His nose. His lips.

"Might be the tequila talking." Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. "But you have really pretty eyes."

He goes still.

You let your gaze travel. "And nose." Your hand moves before you can think better of it, fingers brushing against his lips. "And lips."

His breath catches. You can feel it against your fingertips.

"You're drunk," he says, but his voice is rougher now. "You don't know what you're saying."

You lean closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, can see the exact moment his eyes drop to your lips—

The door swings open.

Anton stands in the doorway, chest heaving like he ran up the stairs. His eyes bounce between you and Eunseok, taking in the proximity, the position, the way you're leaning into his space.

Eunseok leans back immediately, putting distance between you. But you catch the way his jaw tightens.

"There you are." Anton exhales. He looks at Eunseok. "Thanks, bro. Karina was spiraling looking for her."

Eunseok nods, voice steady again. "Yeah. No problem. She's a little out of it. Gave her some water. She should start sobering up."

Anton crosses the room and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you up. "Y/N? Come on. Let's go."

You let him guide you toward the door, but you look back over your shoulder.

Eunseok is still sitting on the edge of his bed, watching you. Something unreadable in his expression.

You give him a small, drunk smile.

He doesn't smile back. But he doesn't look away either.

And then Anton is pulling you out the door, and the hallway is spinning, and your memory fuzzes into nothing.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

*bonus chapters will be uploaded in the future

⋆.♡⋆. note: SHES HEREEE!!!! i have spent the latter half of a month working on this and gave myself a deadline and everything and she’s finally here 😭🙏 if this smau feels familiar and u feel like u have read this before, it’s probably bc u have but the original was scrapped from the internet years ago and now u guys get a funnier version :3 pls like and reblog if u enjoy!!

⋆.♡⋆. playlist: focus — hearts2hearts, butterflies. — brent faiyaz, 4me 4me + earrings — malcolm todd, facetime — lngshot, somebody — keshi, e85 — don toliver, apple cider — beabadoobee, ring ring ring — tyler, the creator, come thru — summer walker

profiles: nightmare blunt rotation / who dat in da BAAAACKKK

⋆.♡⋆. one: CHAT WE ARE NOT RELATED

⋆.♡⋆. two: freakazoid 3000 and his freaked out gf

⋆.♡⋆. three: survival instincts of a fucking rock

⋆.♡⋆. four: he wants that cookie so effing bad

⋆.♡⋆. five: BRO IM A MINOR

⋆.♡⋆. ᝰ.ᐟ six: WONBIN WIN NUMBER ONEEE (800)

⋆.♡⋆. seven: sion at the scene of the crime

⋆.♡⋆. eight: u need to lock tf in

⋆.♡⋆. nine: got that yearner gene inside ur dna

⋆.♡⋆. ten: #watdatmean

⋆.♡⋆. eleven: send me the lo

⋆.♡⋆. ᝰ.ᐟ twelve: misa, usui, animal fries, wonbin, and sion (1.2k)

⋆.♡⋆. thirteen: can we get this guy banned?

⋆.♡⋆. fourteen: wonbin got the all inclusive package

⋆.♡⋆. fifteen: the dude nobody invited

⋆.♡⋆. sixteen: so that WASN’T ai????

⋆.♡⋆. seventeen: #noticing

⋆.♡⋆. eighteen: come to mama

⋆.♡⋆. ᝰ.ᐟ nineteen: the sunset thing (1.8k)

⋆.♡⋆. twenty: cheeseburger

A voice brings you out of your thoughts, turning to see a long outstretched hand holding the receiver of a phone towards you.

Yunho sits slumped against the counter on top of a bar stool, his polo uniform shirt that you were wearing one identical to sticking to his chest with sweat. All the while he fanned himself from the sweltering July heat. 

He wipes a bead of sweat running off the side of his brow. 

“It’s a call for you,” he repeats again, shrugging the receiver to you expectedly. 

You quickly walk over, taking the phone with a quiet thanks before holding it close to your ear. 

Yunho watches the frail and timid little thing you were, barely holding the receiver close enough before a familiar voice cuts through. 

“I hope that those napkins are looking like swans and not chickens, baby”

Your aunt’s soft laughter fills your ear, breaking out into a silent state of panic as you eyed the pieces of cloth spread disappointingly across the table you were just standing at. 

You truly sucked ass at folding. 

“Just trying my best” you told her softly, voice unfamiliar as you just let out the first few words you’ve spoken all night. A sudden feeling washes over you that you’re being watched, and you’re proven right when you crane your neck to see Yunho looking at you out of the corner of your eyes. Warmth spreads throughout your face when you momentarily locked eyes. The tall blonde boy merely smiles, trying to be friendly before you shuffle awkwardly and turn away from his gaze.  

He wasn’t trying to be weird. In Yunho’s defense, it was just kinda interesting for him to see you share a casual conversation with your aunt, known as none other than his own employer and the literal owner of the resort he worked at. 

Plus, he never got to hear your voice. Like ever. 

Tangling the cord of the telephone wire in between your fingers, you questioned your aunt quietly. “Did you need help with something?” 

“I do, actually” she says, the background muffling her words with loud chatter as it seemed the lodge guests were still up and wide awake at this hour. 

“I need you to do me a favor. Grab those watermelons sitting in the fridge and bring them down to the kitchen in the main building for me. I forgot to get the staff here to pick it up, and it would just be so much faster if you brought it down for me, darling.”

You eyed the mentioned goods sitting perched in the back kitchen. 

“The ones on the counter?” You asked hesitantly. 

“I don’t recall leaving any other melons on top of one of my kitchens… so, yes” she remarks sarcastically. 

Hauling those massive things and walking back to the main building was going to be a hassle, especially with your location being all the way on the opposite side across the golf course. 

But what you were dreading even more was confirmed with what she said next. 

“You could just ask that boy Yunho to help you.” She states casually.

Your body tenses at her words, dreading the likely fact that you’ll have to speak more than five words to the golden retriever looking bartender in order to complete your aunt’s request.  

“I’m sure you two will be fine. I’ll be expecting to see you soon, baby”  

“Okay, goodbye” is all you say, hearing her thanks over the phone before you hang up. 

You hand the receiver back to Yunho, who had still been watching you with a small grin on his face. 

“Boss say anything important?” watching as your brows furrow in debated thought, wondering if you should just ask him for his help. 

Your hands get a little clammy, and you make an effort to smooth your khaki work pants, nervousness getting to you. For fucks sake, you were only asking him to help you hold a watermelon. The worst he could do was say no!

You looked up to the tall boy, already feeling a little stupid when you saw him look at you quizzically. 

“Actually, Yunho…” you began, swallowing in nervousness. “Could you help me bring those?” You muttered quietly, shoulders cowering as you pointed to the watermelons sitting on the kitchen counter. He looks back to see what you’re referring to. 

You immediately see his face change in surprise, having caught his attention by speaking more words just now, than you had the entirety of the few weeks you’d worked together. 

Then, the boy can’t help but break into a smile when he hears you clear your voice to speak up again.

“Please?”

“Do you believe watermelons are berries?” Yunho asks you, taking long strides in front of you across the damp grass of the golf course. 

The faint chirping of crickets and summer cicadas resonates across the amphitheater of an empty field, the only sources of light coming from the outdoor flood lights illuminating the path to the main building of the lodges. 

The nighttime air was humid, an unsatisfying breeze blowing past you two as you made your way together.

“Sorry?” You huff, trying to catch your breath. 

You’re staring at the way he’s been able to tuck the two large melons safely in his arms, having to stop in his tracks as you struggled to keep up with his speed while carrying just one.

“Technically, watermelons don’t have any internal divisions, but because they have seeds you could argue that they’re just massively large berries.” he points out, the idea seeming to spill from his mouth like he had been pondering the thought for very long.  

His brows are furrowed in thought when he looks over to you, awaiting your opinion.

“I-I guess so” you agreed meekly. How else were you to respond?

Your arms began to hurt from holding the heavy fruit for so long, and the both of you had only barely made it past the pond near the golf course, changing direction towards a trail with a cleared path. Yunho carries on with his fruit philosophy.

“If you put popular beliefs aside, pumpkins are considered berries too.“ He grins, chuckling to himself as he walks beside you. “Which means you and I are just holding three massive berries in total!”

“Right..” 

Before you could think to say anything else in response, a tall figure identical to the height of Yunho rushes up from behind and smacks the back of head. 

You’re seconds away from dropping the watermelon in your hand from shock, jaw hanging open as you clutched on the melon in surprise while Yunho stops in his tracks to curse out loud. 

“What the fuck-”

“Hey yuyu, finished your shift already?” A boy cheekily grins while wearing a blue, well-loved varsity jacket. His eyes turned into crescent moons while giggling with utter joy at the sight of his friend scowling in pain, dodging the kicks Yunho tries to get back at him while holding the two fruits. 

“Get off my back, Mingi” he spits, though he lets the boy hang near him. 

You do what you’ve grown accustomed to over the past month of working here, making yourself invisible amongst the two friends you slowly trailed behind. 

There’s a good reason you‘ve become this shy and hesitant to ask for help while working at the resort, and that was because no one here actually liked you. 

Being the niece of the lodge owner didn’t exactly have the perks you’d think would come with it. Rumor had already spread like wildfire on your first day of work amongst the young employees, gossiping all sorts of ridiculous stories as to why a girl like you needed to be spending her summers working at her rich Aunt's resort to make money. From rumours that you were cut off by your rich parents, to one being that you got knocked up and sent away here as punishment, the gossip from the part-timers was like a supply of fuel to be added to the fire. 

You had been extremely lucky to get this job thanks to your Aunt. In order to keep your place here, you made up for it by working twice as hard as any other person. Picking up other people’s shifts while tolerating being ignored and trashed about was something you decided you’d stick it out for the whole summer. You desperately needed this money to afford finally moving out of your house back home. It was only after much hesitance that you resorted to reaching out to your distant Aunt on your mothers side you never actually talked to. You were willing to do any work she gave that would be enough to keep the bills paid. The only friend you seemed to somewhat make while working this summer was Yunho, and thankfully, he didn’t seem to care about all the nepo baby crap he heard everyone spew behind your back. 

“Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be giving tango lessons to the bungalow bunnies back at the gazebo?” Yunho teases to his friend, propping up the watermelons in his hands to make them appear like two large breasts. 

You looked away, blushing as Yunho juts his lips out to mimic the middle aged trophy wives his friend frequently gave dancing lessons to. Mingi must’ve been a part of the entertainment and dance staff, the one clique of part-timers in this place that no one else seemed to be able to go against. 

He teased in a high pitched southern accent, “Oh, Mingi, you really know how to put those hips to use!”

Yunho's laughter resonates throughout the empty field, becoming Mingi’s turn to pummel his ass from embarrassment, ears going red. 

“Shut up, man! Keep talking but at the end of the day, you could only dream what it’s like having those women all over ya!” He states proudly.

Yunho peers over to see you awkwardly trailing behind, shoving his friend’s shoulder and jerking his head to you, motioning to give you some help. Mingi leans down to grasp the sliding melon falling out of your hands, letting you catch up so you three could all walk together. 

You’re about to protest but Mingi is already smirking down at you. 

“So you’re the boss’s niece everyone’s been talking about, huh?” 

Knowing the rumours going around about you, you were mentally preparing for what else was to come out of Yunho’s friend. But the next words that he says surprises you instead. 

“I don’t care about that bullshit, y’know” 

He grins, standing tall with the watermelon easily tucked under one of his arms. 

“If I were you, I’d own it proudly.”

You hadn’t expected that answer to be honest. You glance over to Yunho who chuckles at his friend, gratitude and relief seeping into your heart when you realize Mingi seems to be a decent guy just like him. 

“First thing I’d do if my aunt owned this place would be to raid the liquor cellars under the guests lounge” he states, Yunho rolling his eyes while Mingi looks at you again. “I’d be trying to get away with all the shit I could do.”

The blonde scoffs, sneering at his friend's words. 

“Yeah, as if you can even handle your alcohol well.”

Mingi glares back.

“Kid passed out one time from a sip of beer” Yunho mutters to you, watching the corners of your mouth turn up. He definitely didn’t appear to be a lightweight in your thoughts.

“You don’t really speak much do you?” Mingi interrupts, coming closer as you walk side by side.

You shook your head.

“What did they call you again?” he pauses to think, racking his brain to find the nickname everyone made fun of you for. “Bonnie? Berry?…”

It's ridiculous how a childhood nickname your Aunt kept for you had now stuck with the entire staff at the summer lodge. So admittedly, you can’t help it if some of your frustration seems to slip out when you give him a sarcastic roll of your eyes 

“It's baby,” you answered with a huff. 

Mingi stares at you for a moment which makes you worry you’ve taken your attitude too far, before he’s already chuckling at your response. 

“Well baby’s got spunk, hasn’t she?” 

“Not everyone calls me that” you tried to convince him, frowning when Yunho chips in.

”Yeah right, everyone calls you baby here.” he grins, teasing you.

You looked away, awkwardly staring at some bushes nearby. He was right. 

Mingi already decides that he likes you, and seeing how Yunho likes you as well, the rumours he’s been hearing about you going around don’t matter to him anymore.

“Well then, baby” He beams, the lights near the main building's entrance glowing brighter as you get closer. “Wanna go to a real adult party?” 

You slowed down your steps, eyes widening at his words as Yunho shoved his clueless friend for his comment. 

“Don’t fucking say it like that, creep!”

Mingi realizes what his offer might’ve sounded like, assuring you that he was just inviting you and Yunho to the after party the entertainment staff were holding in the abandoned barn behind the west building. The west building located dorms where all the staff were able to live during the busiest time of vacation season. 

“A party?” You repeated, lips parting softly. 

Mingi nodded eagerly as he joked. 

“C’mon, you’re not gonna tell your aunt on us, are you?” 

The three of you stood near the back entrance of the main kitchen. Your last task of the night would be dropping off the watermelons before you’re free to walk away from the offer standing before you tonight. 

And perhaps it's because you're tired. Not necessarily tired from lack of sleep, but tired of the whole routine. Of the monogamous, soul-draining routine you’ve picked up ever since you got here, which was spending any second you weren’t working, sleeping, or eating, being cooped up in your twin-sized bed reading or laying awake at night to the sounds of cicadas. 

“I wouldn't tell her regardless, Mingi” you said truthfully, which makes the boy change his playful demeanor a bit. 

You thought for a long, hard moment. 

You’ve never had friends. Never broke the rules. Never once dared to sneak off the property to go somewhere, let alone a party with other people your age. And so with in mind the thrill of it all, with the absolute exhaustion of being alone all the damn time, you say yes. 

The two boys grin in excitement, and Mingi thrusts the watermelon in his arms to perch over his right shoulder.

“Great! Me and Yunho will pick you up at your dorm once we drop these off.” He says, the two boys walking off inside to drop off the delivery your aunt requested. It isn’t before Mingi turns to call out your name.

“Oh, and baby! Don’t be afraid to dress casual” he smiles, sending a nod of his head back to you. 

Inside, your stomach turns. 

You’ve already started to regret this. 

You mumble quiet curses to yourself, awkwardly adjusting the cardigan and short skirt dress you managed to convince yourself was deemed appropriate for hanging out with other staff outside of work hours. 

You’re walking up those steep wooden steps of the hill leading up to the barn house, and with every thumping sound of the music getting louder, so does the beat of your heart inside your chest.

“Just be cool, baby” Yunho reassures you, having changed out of his uniform as well into a pair of shorts and a yellow Hawaiian button up shirt. 

“We’ll introduce you to more of our friends” Mingi assures, leading the way at the very front. 

You huff worriedly in response, knowing that the other college kids aren’t going to be very happy when they see the outcasted niece of the resort owner. But you still send them both a thankful smile, keeping it plastered on your face for not too long. 

“I just hope that son of bitch Wooyoung doesn’t eat all the pop tarts” Mingi mutters under his breath, shaking his head and clenching his fists inside his varsity jacket. 

“He knows I like strawberry…”

Once you reach the doors to the barn, Mingi and Yunho pause to look down at you before going in. “Ready?” the bartender asks, beaming down at you. You swallowed your nervousness, bundling up your nerves and hiding them away inside you. You give them both a small nod. 

Mingi immediately kicks the barn doors open, hollering to the large crowd of dancing college students. Half of which you know for a fact don’t work at the resort and have driven up from the city. 

And all at once, your breath is taken away. 

Bodies melted against one another in an obscene way you had never before seen back home. A few girls were wearing tight, form-fitting clothing that accentuated their hips and curves, while men sported the trending greaser look that had them thrusting their hips through tight fitting jeans or leather pants.  

You watched from a distance as couples grinded onto one another, dancing so passionately as though the music had overtaken their minds. The barn, though appearing to be rundown and shabby from the outside, was the definition of a banging, fucking party. 

“What are they doing?” You asked cluelessly to Yunho, unable to take your eyes off the sweaty bodies molding themselves together on the dance floor, rocking their hips and shaking their legs. 

This wasn’t even dancing. This was something else. 

He laughed loudly. “They’re just dancing!” looking down at you as he raises his voice over the loud music. “All the kids are doing it back home.” 

“You wanna try it?” He asks, teasing you. You reverently shake your head no and he can’t help but laugh at your continuation to stare in shock. He urges you forward instead. 

“Come on, baby”

You can tell how popular Mingi and Yunho must be, the way that every so often they bump into a friend of theirs and chat with them eagerly. A few of them give you some judging stares, but with the two giants by your side, it doesn’t bother you as much as it usually does. 

Beer, cigarettes, and slips of condom packages are exchanged on the dance floor, folks minding their business and having the time of their lives. 

“Can you imagine dancing like this on the main floor?” Yunho laughs, gesturing to the sea of sweat, lust and rhythm that could never in a million years find its way back to the ‘family friendly’ establishment you worked for. 

“Your aunt would close the place down first!” he chuckles, letting you grab onto his arm to navigate through the party. 

Yunho catches up to Mingi standing a few meters away, thinking you’d follow when you let go. Instead, a hand snakes its way around your waist near the dance floor, grasping you tightly and making you jump from surprise. A body begins to lewdly grind itself against you, worn out jeans coming into view as their legs trapped yours in between them. 

“You’re a pretty little thing aren’t you?” a voice whispers into your ear, the smell of booze reeking from the man’s hot breath. 

“Haven’t seen you around here” his accent slips through. 

Sweat begins to form on your forehead, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. You were highly uncomfortable right now. 

“Please let go,” you asked politely, struggling to pry the dirty hands off of your body. 

“C’mon,” he protests, pulling you closer. “Just one dance, OW-”

A heeled shoe comes to stomp on the man's big toe, a manicured hand swatting the grip on your hips away, making him yelp in pain and shove you away. You stumble a bit, whipping your head around to see the ugly looking bastard. A woman stands in front of you protectively between him, hands on the hips of her dress.

“You fucking sleaze!” You hear from in front of you.

“Fuck was that for, Minny?” he lashes out, his voice rising in tone over the loud music. A few couples stop to stare at his outburst momentarily, though they quickly go back to dancing, moving around the comotion. 

“The next time I see your nasty hands touching another poor girl's ass, Bobby, and I'm telling Seonghwa and the rest of the dance crew.” the girl snaps, dangly earrings rushing back and forth above her perfect exposed collar bones while she points an accusatory finger in the direction of the pervert. Her chest moves with every fuming breath she takes. 

Bobby, who had just been trying to cop a feel at you, scoffs, staring her down and intimidating you in the process. 

“You ain’t gonna do shit, Minny.” He spits to the floor, making you take one more step behind the girl. 

“I might not do shit. But you sure as hell know Seonghwa isn’t gonna leave you alone.”

“Just like last time” She threatens, watching as his eyes look away pathetically in fear, knowing specifically what she was referring to. 

“You’re fucking disgusting. Get the fuck out of my sight” she brushes him off, watching how he glares at her for a moment before reluctantly sliding to another side of the dance floor. 

The situation de-escalates as quickly as it first began. 

Your heart continues to pound against your chest, a wave of relief washing over yourself when he leaves. Your hero, standing tall in front of you in pretty tango heels and a pink chiffon dress, lays a hand on your shoulder. 

“You alright, hun? Don’t mind that creep, he’s lower than piss on the floor” she states, the lights flashing over her toned, dancer body. She shakes her head in frustration. “These sort of morons are always lurking on the dance floor so you gotta be careful sometimes”

You’re starstruck, words unable to fall out of your mouth as you thank her. 

“Thank you for that” you find the courage to say. She smiles, sending you a small wink.

“Don’t mention it. Girls gotta stick together” she grins. 

Just as she’s about to leave, Yunho rushes over to you, messy blonde strands sweeping over his frantic eyes. 

“I was looking for you, where the hell did you go?” Yunho towers over you, in the process also making eye contact with the girl. 

“Don’t go losing your girl now, Yun” she teases, arms crossing over her chest. 

Yunho immediately recognizes the face and smiles. His ears begin to match the red party cup he was holding in his left hand.

“Minny!” he grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “How’ve you been?”

“Busy as usual,” she shrugs. “Booked under mambo classes, kids tango, main floor ballroom, you know how it is.” she sighs. “You?”

“Night and day shifts all fucking mixed together” he replies. 

The two become lost in each other's eyes, clearing your voice as you speak over the loud music. 

“I’m not his girl, by the way”

She looks back at you, shooting a smirk at Yunho who laughs out loud, introducing you to her.

“This is baby, we work the night shifts at the bar down by the golf course together” he explains. 

He sends a smile to the girl in front of him who you can already tell he’s head over heels for. 

“This is Minny, works with Mingi and the rest of entertainment if you didn’t already notice.” 

“B-A-B-Y, baby?” She asks, eyes going wide as a sweet grin settles on her lips.

“That’s your name?”

You nod slowly, face feeling warm. 

“Just a nickname we all call her” Yunho chuckles, looking down at you as he explained. “But she sure does look all clueless like a baby, doesn’t she?” 

Minny nods, smiling at you as the song changes to something fast paced that makes people cheer and holler over their cigarettes and drinks. 

“Let’s go dance then, baby” she smirked, intertwining your hand with hers as she flashes a look towards Yunho.

“Bye, Yunho!” She winks back. 

You’re unable to say anything more as Minny guides you to the dance floor, your feet resisting her pull as you frantically shout over the music. 

“But I can’t dance!” 

She waves you off like it’s no big deal. “It’s okay if you don’t know! I’ll teach you!” She encourages, her body swaying so naturally in a way that makes you envy her. 

“Just feel the music, baby” she tells you. “Forget about everything else.”

You follow her words, a small smile making its way to your face as you become excited with every passing beat of the music. You’re not as good as her, but it’s a start to you coming out of the protective little box you’ve been in for too long. 

Minny’s eyes close as she looks up to the ceiling, shutting her eyes and desperately trying to let the music consume her. 

“Sometimes you just gotta dance ‘til your feet hurt more than what's in your heart”

From afar, a figure leaning against the wall follows your every move, watching you unknowingly throw your head back and giggle with every move you attempt to follow. 

“Someone must’ve had a fun time last night”

Your aunt continues diligently writing away in her cheque book, accounting for the weekly sales and profits behind the counter of the front desk of the resort. With every check mark, she goes back to the large calculator beside her, punching in numbers under her steel rimmed glasses, a few curses of frustration slipping out when the machine doesn’t work. 

“I’m surprised you’re not awake like you usually are, baby” she points out, watching as your slumped back immediately turns straight and you sit up tall in your seat, blinking your tired eyes. 

You should be properly manning the front desk you’re sitting at right now, but with all the guests gone to do the lodge offered activities like canoeing or water polo, the main desk is left empty except for the two of you sitting in your seats. 

“Have you been staying up late?” She asks with sharp curiosity. 

You shook your head, stifling a yawn. “I think I just slept in a weird position. Haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.”

The truth of the matter was, you’ve been sneaking out for the last few nights, having the most exhilarating experiences dancing and hanging out with Minny and the rest of the party staff in the abandoned barn.

Although your dancing wasn’t as good as Minny’s, no one seemed to care that you were there with them. For all the kids that did seem to talk shit in front of you for joining them, Minny would stick her fist up their asses just to defend you, and you had grown to love her already.

At your carefully picked response she nods, going back to her checkbook for a moment before she asks you carefully. 

“And are the part-timers treating you well? Teaching you the ropes behind everything here?”

You could never bring yourself to explain to your aunt that you were usually a complete and utter outcast amongst the lodge staff. You’d rather keep these details to yourself than to cause more unnecessary trouble to the woman who got you the job in the first place, so you opt for the same reassuring sentence you’ve been telling her since the first day. 

“Yes, they’re good to me.” You lie. 

She nods with a satisfied sigh, closing her checkbook and adjusting her glasses. 

“Just don’t get too close with the entertainment staff” your aunt warns you. 

You turn your head to look at her properly this time. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Some of those dancers are looking for trouble, and I mean especially the boys” she tsks, disapprovingly shaking her head. 

“God knows what I’ve had to do to get them to stop causing trouble and keep them in line for the guests. Those kids can dance, but lord can they be a pain to deal with”

Your quiet stare at her causes your aunt to shake her head, her wrinkles deepening as she waves it off to you. 

“Though that’s nothing you need to know. Just be mindful of who you’re with and why you’re here” she reminds you, firm and strict. 

You nod, thinking to yourself as her words circled your mind. 

Later, when your shift ends that night, you follow the trail of pebbled tracks back to your dorm, the sun already set as the outdoor flood lights turn on. 

The summer breeze blew through your hair as you made your way outside the main building. Just as you’re about to walk away, a hand grabs your arm, yanking you to the bushes nearby making you scream.

You’re met face to face with a frantic looking girl, her close proximity and frazzled looking appearance throwing you off guard as mascara stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes stared back at you.

“Minny?”

“Baby, I need you to help me” she pleads softly, choking up on her sobs as her body shakes violently. She was a complete opposite to the sweet, carefree looking girl you met a few nights ago. 

You immediately place a hand around her arm, trying to calm her down. 

“W-What’s wrong? Is everything alright? Are you-”

She mutters something incoherent to herself, shaking her head as she raises her face to look at you. 

“I need you to find Yunho for me. Now!” she cried, clutching onto your arms in desperation. “Just please find him for me” she whimpers, snapping you from your thoughts.

You knew that if you didn’t help her right now something very bad would happen. 

“O-Okay I’ll find him” you told her reassuringly. 

You left to run through the vast green fields of the resort, knowing that whatever Minny needed to talk to Yunho about, it must’ve been urgent. 

The west building where all the summer part-timers lodged, came into view. You picked up your pace, quickly passing each and every numbered door until you stopped in front of Yunho’s and knocked frantically on the wood while trying to catch your breath.

You gasp for air, hearing approaching steps as the door swings open and you're face to face with a man you’ve never seen before.

“Yunho!” You cry out first thing, though his name dies in your throat as your eyes catch up to your voice and you stare at someone else. 

Standing in front of you is a dark haired man. Tall, lean, but with a body displaying strength. You glanced up at his face. At his sharp nose, perfect lips, and deep piercing eyes that followed you with every heavy breath you took. 

“Can I help you?” He asks intensely, looming over you. You try to rack through your thoughts to make sure you don’t forget what you’re standing here for.

Just behind him do you see Yunho sitting on a worn out leather couch in his tiny room, laughing with a few other guys about something while a cigarette was propped behind his ear, the strong smell of drugs and burnt tobacco wafting in the air.

You forgot about the figure staring down at you, intimidated by his stance but looking  past it. 

“Yunho!” you called out, the worry and urgency prominent in your voice.

The blonde looks over to you, his smile faltering in confusion at your sudden presence, before he notices the fear in your eyes and sits up straight.

“It’s Minny” is all you have to say before he’s grabbing his leather jacket and walking out the door. An arm stops to grab onto him.

“What about Minny?” The man who answered the door asks in concern, his expression turning into one of protectiveness. You saw his grip tightening around Yunho's arm, to which the boy shoved off roughly.

“That’s what I’m going to find out” he grits, turning to face you now with his brows furrowed and an expression laced with worry. 

“Where is she? I’m coming with you.” He states firmly.

You have no time for this, so you leave the tension radiating off the two at the front door, motioning Yunho to follow you as you lead him back to Minny. When you see the figure from the doorway catch up alongside you, you look to Yunho for at least some sort of explanation. 

“This is Seonghwa.” he sighs, his long strides speeding up in a hurry. 

“He’s Minny’s dance partner. We can trust him, " he says, his lips forming a tight line.

You look at Seonghwa, watching as the boy dressed in all black turns his gaze to look back at you, an unreadable expression on his face before you look back to the trail.

You hear him mutter under his breath in concern. 

“Jesus christ, Minny, what did you do now?” 

It's not long before the three of you are approaching the bushes of the main building. Seonghwa dashes in front of all of you at the first sight he gets of Minny crouched in a fetal position, sobs still wracking through her body. Yunho follows suit, rubbing a hand through his tousled hair when he sees her. “Minny, what happened?” he breathes out.

The dancer looks up, tears clouding her vision when a soft sob leaves her throat.

“Yunho-” she begins to say after hearing his voice, then clutching the skirt of her dress when she sees who followed nearby.

“Seonghwa?” 

You didn’t know what to tell her, standing awkwardly off to the side before a beat of silence follows when Seonghwa takes ahold of the girl's hand, holding it gently.

“That’s alright honey, I got you. Seonghwa’s here” he assures her, embracing her in a comforting hug as he pats the back of her hair, letting her tears fall onto his suit.

Minny accepts the embrace, finally letting the words spill. 

“Seonghwa, it’s bad. It’s bad this time” she wailed, mascara staining her eyes as she struggled to catch her breath with every sob that racked her body.

Yunho approaches the girl, crouching down so he could look at her properly, feeling as though the worry and suspense would consume him. “What is Minny? Tell us!” 

The girl holds her body closer to her small frame, letting another tear fall before she looks up at you all. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

“So what’s he going to do about it?”

Seonghwa turns his head to glare at Hongjoong who had directed the obvious question to him.

The four of you had relocated to the empty barn house sitting in the forest behind the resort, the once lively and upbeat place replaced with a solemn mood that unveiled a frightening situation. 

Only you, Seonghwa and Yunho first knew about Minny, though that was shortly changed when the rest of the entertainment crew living at the barn found out as well when they saw you arrive with the sobbing girl. 

You out of all people had somehow been roped into it all, watching as the dancers huddled near the poor girl on their worn down couch supported with slates of wood, a cloth blanket covering her shivering shoulders. 

“It’s not Seonghwa,” Minny states clearly, scrunching her face at the assumption. She hangs her head, feeling nauseous from the anxiety. 

“But I thought-”

“Well you thought wrong” Seonghwa spits back, turning away from his friend when he realized he wasn’t helping.

Hongjoong was the leader of the crew. Followed by Seonghwa, Mingi, and another boy named Wooyoung who you had just met tonight for the first time. Yunho appeared close with them, watching as they discussed the seriousness of the situation. 

Minny groans when Mingi asks for the truth. 

“Then who the fuck did this to you? I swear I’m gonna kill that fucking bastard” he threatens, nostrils flaring as he over protectively tells his friend.

Minny tells him dejectedly. “He wants nothing to do with me or it. Didn’t even believe me when I told him…” 

Yunho turns his head, staring at her as he gently asks. 

“Tell us who it is, Minny”

She’s silent before she lets it out.

“It’s Bobby.”

You stared in horror, realizing the pervert who felt you up at the party a few nights ago was the father. You felt like throwing up and shooting him at the same time.

Wooyoung's eyes widened, his fist covering his wide open mouth as he exclaims. 

“Bobby “The Sleaze” Gilmer?”

Seonghwa looks at the girl he would call his own sister in disbelief. 

“That fucking lobby boy who works on the main floor did this to you?!”

She sighs, looking just as disgusted by hearing his name.

“If I could go back and close my fucking legs, believe me, I would!” She retorts back, huffing as her voice raises in frustration. 

“I didn’t mean to get with the guy! It just happened a few weeks ago and I didn’t think much of it until I was feeling nauseous yesterday afternoon during rehearsals.”

She leans back, knowing she’s made up her mind. 

“I’m not keeping it, I-I can’t. I have to get rid of it, but I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do when Seonghwa and I have upcoming performances at other hotels” Minny realizes with small sniffles, the scary reality crashing down on her again in this situation. 

“I-I mean I can get the girls to fill in for my classes here, but what the fuck am I supposed to do outside of this?” she says, a tear flowing down her cheek. “How are we going to tell them we can’t perform?” She admits defeatedly, thanking Mingi when he hands her a tissue box. 

“We’re gonna get you a doctor first, Minny” Yunho promises, watching as Wooyoung nods in agreement before he points out another problem. 

“Yeah, but where are we even gonna get the money for a doctor Yunho? And if word gets out with the other staff, we’re all fucking screwed.” 

Mingi shoves him in the rib cage for saying that, everyone sitting in a discouraging silence.

Hongjoong briefly glances over to you, rolling his eyes in cynicism.

“Great, and now that baby over here knows, she’s gonna run off to her playpen and tell her Aunt everything!”

You haven’t hated that nickname any more than you did right now.

Before Minny goes to your defense, you stick up for yourself first.

“I would never do that.” You state seriously, looking him in the eyes. Hongjoong still crosses his arms skeptically. “I’m not turning my back against you guys. I’m on your side, and I’m going to do whatever it is I can to help you Minny” you promised her wholeheartedly. 

Yunho, who was grasping onto Minny's hand, gives her a reassuring squeeze while sending you a small thankful smile.

“Don’t blame yourself too much Minny. This could’ve happened to anyone and it just so happened to be you. But now you know we’re all here for you, every last one of us.”

The blonde and the brunette lock eyes for a split second. 

Mingi mutters sarcastically under his breath to what his friend says. “Yeah, can’t say if I know anyone who’d sleep with Bobby Gilmer” 

Minny ignores him, shaking her head as she still needs to face reality. 

“Then who’s gonna dance with him then?” she nodded in the direction of her partner. 

Seonghwa looked overwhelmed, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

You spoke up. “Couldn’t someone else fill in? There’s other girls who do nightly entertainment that must be free. There can be a way for us to come up with the money and if someone-”

Seonghwa glances over, his reply sharp as he cuts you off. “No, Ms. Fix it, nobody else can fill in. Maria has to work all day, she can’t learn the routines, and Rosie’s gonna have to fill in for Minny’s other classes. All of us could try and pick up a few jobs to pay for the fees but that money isn’t going to be enough! Nothing else is gonna cut it unless we do those performances.”

The man clenches and unclenches his jaw, taking a deep breath to control his frustrations. 

“We all work,” he says, making each word a defined statement.

You stand back in the corner where you belonged, Seonghwas gaze and rude attitude making you clench your fists in anger. 

“Hey, all she’s trying to do is help!” Yunho defends you, brows furrowing as he stares the black haired boy down. Tension arises once again between the two.

“And maybe Hongjoong is right,” Seonghwa spits, taking another jab at you. “Maybe the kid here is gonna jeopardize this whole fucking situation and get us all fired!”

Minny cuts him off on his last word, pointing an accusatory finger as she looks at him with disappointment.

“Stop that Seonghwa. Both of you calm down the fuck down and-”

Just as Seonghwa is about to retort back to Yunho, a question directed towards you leaves everyone to stop arguing for a moment.

“Do you dance, baby?”

Your eyes lock on Wooyoung who stands there with a cigarette lodged in between his lips, playing with the straps of his suspenders as he looks at you with an unreadable expression. 

“For fucks sake, Wooyoung” Seonghwa mutters under his breath loudly, rolling his eyes in disbelief.

“What? I can’t ask the chick if she dances?” He retorts back defensively. 

“I- No I don’t.“ you reply, taken aback.

Mingi looks at you carefully, his eyes gazing up and down your body, able to imagine you as a dancer partner as he catches on to what his friend was suggesting.

“No, he might be onto something…”

Minny lifts her eyes from the wet tissues, pupils dilating as she looks at you too. 

“Baby,” she gasps, sitting straight as the blanket around her shoulders falls. 

“You could fill in!”

“what?!”

“yes!”

“Are you all out of your fucking minds?!” Seonghwa shouts, hands resting on his hips because now the impossible idea Wooyoung shared has now made him furious.

Minny snaps at her childhood best friend, clutching the skirt of her dress as she stands up to face him straight on. 

“You’re the best dancer out of all of us Seonghwa, you could lead any partner!”

“I can’t even do a full dance routine, let alone the Mambo!” You exclaim, cheeks getting hot. 

Seonghwa looks at your expression and decides to speak on your behalf as well. 

“The kid says she can’t even do the Mambo! She cannot dance, she’s got no talent, nothing!”

Jeez, when he says it, it just twists the knife a little deeper in the wound. 

You watch Seonghwa carefully, a glare in your eyes as you stare him down.

The group goes back to defeat as you stood there silently, hearing them discuss other possibilities as to what they could do to make up for the money.

“I could try to pick up weekend shifts at Kellerman’s right across the town” Wooyoung offers, sending a smile of hope to Minny who looks over in gratitude. “We could put that money to use.” 

“I already got another part time job at the gas station a few miles from here,” Mingi smiles, his usual boyish attitude replaced with sincerity. “I can pitch in.”

Yunho reassures the girl sitting beside him on the couch, facing the fearful situation with an optimistic outlook.

“Whatever you need Minny, we’re here for you. We’ll get that money, just leave it to us and—”

“I’ll do it.” 

Heads turn at the sound of your confident voice, your gaze unwavering as you send a promise to Minny as well. 

“What do you mean you’ll do it?” Yunho asks incredulously, not believing his ears. 

Wooyoung silently smiles at your decision, a grin forming on his face. Beside you, you can feel Seonghwa stare you down, closing your eyes as you let out a deep breath. 

“I‘ll fill in as Seonghwa’s dance partner. I’ll do whatever it takes, however many rehearsals or lessons he’s willing to teach me, but one thing is for sure Minny, I’m not leaving you on your own either” you tell her, thinking back to how the girl has stood by you in the short amount of time you’ve gotten to know her. 

Minny stands up abruptly, rushing over to you and knocking your breath out by giving you a tight hug. 

“Thank you” her voice cracks, knowing how much this meant to you while feeling sorry at the same time. “Thank you so much”

You hug her back gently, letting your hands pat her back in response. 

“No more than a few shows.” Seonghwa mutters while crossing his arms, causing you to pull back.

“Three shows and that’s it” he states, not believing what he’s gotten himself into.

He walks off, slamming the barn door closed. Hongjoong sighed, muttering a word of ‘good luck’ to you. 

“This is gonna be very interesting” Mingi whispers to Yunho who looks at you with slight worry. 

“He‘ll teach you everything you need to know, baby” Minny reassures you as she wipes her own tears away. She sniffles, turning your chest so you could face her properly.

“I know you can do this”

Holy fuck you couldn’t do this.

What on earth did these dancers wear? Was everything always this suffocating and tight?

“Come on out” Seonghwa impatiently states for the second time, tapping his foot against the polished wooden floors of the dance studio, arms crossed against the black tank top he wore for today's first practice. 

You felt the tight material of the dance leotard hug your body in places you didn’t know you could even show off, and you felt every fiber of your being regret the decision you made to say yes. 

Awkwardly, you step out from behind the folding screen, clutching your arms self-consciously around your body as the tight outfit felt foreign and made you feel exposed. 

Seonghwa narrows his eyes as he suddenly comes forward to rest his hands on your hips, shifting them forward and making you cry out in surprise. 

“What-” 

“Turn around for me” he states without wasting time, watching as you reluctantly turn slowly. It allows him to get a view of the back, but it certainly doesn’t go unnoticed when his large palms keep their place on your body as you move beneath.

“It’ll do” he decides, leaving you standing timidly when he goes to place the stylus on the Solomon Burke record. The music rings throughout the empty studio offered for private lessons.  

“Follow my steps” he orders, swiftly moving to the front of the room and facing the mirrors. 

The loud music makes you overwhelmed, unsure how to even begin copying the first step when Seonghwa takes swift, graceful shuffles, displaying how to move to the beat. 

“I want your form always straight. That means chin up, shoulders back”

You look back in confusion, your steps hesitant as you copied him. 

“Try and keep up, baby” he huffs, watching you dance like a baby deer learning to walk.

You bite your lip, repeating the moves Seonghwa had just shown you in complete focus, unaware when his presence comes closer and you suddenly feel his breath hit your neck. You lightly gasp when strong arms support your own, his hips moving against yours. 

“Sometimes the steps aren’t enough,” he urges, his deep voice entering your ear. 

“Feel the music” 

You glance up into the full length dance mirror, following the way he was skillfully molding your body to move to his own wishes. Your heart continued to beat against your chest, throwing you off with the rhythm of the vinyl that was currently playing out loud.

When he sees you distracted, Seonghwa bites his lips, grips your hips and spins you around, making you grasp onto his biceps as your ankles stumble in the dance heels you weren’t accustomed to. 

“I want you staring at your own body when you dance and look into the mirror” He warns you, firmly holding you in his grasp. 

“Not on me, baby” 

A moment of silence passed as you looked up at him stunned. 

“Nod if you understand” 

You swallow. Following his orders. 

With one last smirk, he spins you back around and lets go before now going in front to put you in another starting position. 

“Eyes on my feet now, honey”

The next few weeks have you going through pairs of shoes faster than the number of cigarettes you saw Seonghwa burning at every dance practice. You found yourself waltzing through hotdog orders, practicing steps and dance moves Seonghwa practiced with you while filling up pints of beer and serving tables. 

You really wanted to do a good job and you would do whatever it takes in order to prove that to Seonghwa and Minny. 

When you passed by other staff, you could hear the hushed whispers going around.

Why was she hanging with him? What was she doing in that studio?

Thankfully, no one dared to challenge you once they confirmed who you were spending all your late night evenings and early weekends with. It came across as though you and Seonghwa were secretly dating, when in fact, Seonghwa was meticulously putting you through hell every time he saw you. He had to teach you to keep up with the strict choreography he adjusted for you when you came to fill Minny’s shoes. 

But he was growing all the more frustrated with you at every practice, and you were well aware of it. 

“Hold on the fifth count I said, goddamn it baby are you deaf?” 

Seonghwa yells at you from across the sweltering hot studio one rainy afternoon. It was only two days before your first performance. 

With two days left on the clock, the pressure was getting to the experienced dancer, knowing he had to make sure you did flop on your ass the minute you went on that stage. 

But that was unfair to assume you weren’t struggling with your own share of concerns, putting your mind and body through hell just to try and keep up. 

“And what's up with your turns today? You gotta concentrate! Is this your idea of fun?”

He takes the cigarette hanging in his mouth and flings it out the open window, the pouring rain thundering above the barn as you glared at him, teeth gritting with anger. 

You were exhausted. Every muscle in your body ached with soreness as sweat trickled down your forehead and covered your eyesight. Your feet ached, your back felt like shit, and your patience with Seonghwa and his excruciatingly annoying nagging was wearing thin. 

Placing your hands on your hips, you turn to face the man in front of you properly, feeling like you’ve had just enough of his bullshit. 

“Oh yes, as a matter of fact this is my idea of fun” you sarcastically barked back, stepping forward to him in your dancing heels that tapped against the shiny, shellac floorboards below you. 

“We’ve got the show coming up in two fucking days, you wont show me lifts, I’m not even sure on how to properly do turns, and yet I’m doing all this just to help that poor girls future, even if you’re being a fucking asshole and all I want to do is drop you”

Seonghwa ticks his jaw, sweat forming above his brow as he looks down at you.

The rain continues to pour, sloshing down the trees and seeping into small puddles over the open window ledge. 

He pushes off the full length dance mirrors, the sounds of rain growing louder outside. Shuffling back as he approached, you still kept your gaze locked on his own. 

You hated that even when you were pissed at him, he still looked that good. 

“What?” You bit back at Seonghwa who peered down at you.

“Do you have a raincoat?”

You look at him in confusion. “No, why?”

He turns to the couch nearby, grabbing his leather jacket and flinging it over to you, seeing you barely catch it in surprise. He doesn’t turn to look at you, simply walking near the window to inspect the rain before he calls back. 

“Cover yourself with that and follow me” 

You trudged through the wet rain, droplets hitting your legs as Seonghwa’s leather jacket protected you from getting wet on your head. He had decided to face the rain head on, quite literally, choosing to get wet while leading you down the hill to a different part of the forest nearby the resort. 

“Where are you taking me, Seonghwa?” You called out, eyes squinting just to see him through the pouring droplets.

He said nothing, giving you no clue as to where you were going before eventually stopping under a grand oak tree that had to have been at least a few hundred years old. Its bark and long strong branches were a testament to time. 

It was only then had the rain decided to stop, the clouds clearing bit by bit as the sun shined through the cracks of leaves. 

Seonghwa’s jacket sat slumped over your shoulders, watching as he brushed his damp locks out of his face and turned so his back was no longer facing you. 

“When you dance, baby, what do you feel?” He blurts out, looking at you as he tries to read your expressions. 

You sighed, lips parting to say something before they closed shut.

“Like I don’t have the slightest clue as to what I’m doing” You confessed, looking towards the boy holding a soft look in his eyes. 

“Dancing is not just about how your body moves, baby. When you dance, your body is the vessel, but your soul is the driver.” Seonghwa described, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders to reveal your white tank top underneath. 

He throws the leather to hang over on a branch nearby, before beginning to unbuckle his pants and catch you off guard. 

“What the hell are you doing, Seonghwa?!” You shrieked, trying to look away as you couldn’t believe the man in front of you was stripping. “Put your clothes back on, Jesus Christ” you exclaimed, trying to tear your eyes away from the strong, tanned thighs that slipped from the hem of his pants. 

Seonghwa stands in front of you in his boxers and black tank top, watching your expression. 

“When you dance with someone, you get a feeling of the pulse in your heart as it lets every note guide your next movement. It's about the connection” he says as he lifts the corners of his top over his head, exposing his chest and sculpted upper body.

You stood there, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. 

“We can connect just fine with our clothes on, don’t you think?” You retorted back nervously. 

Seonghwa ignores your comment, shifting closer to you and grasping your hand in his own to set your palm against the flesh of his right chest, his heartbeat resonating against your fingertips.

You still your movements as you feel the intimacy of it all, hearing what he has to say. 

“It’s a game of give and take, of trust and tension. Every beat I share with you when I dance is a promise. Every spin is a challenge. There’s no holding back, no second-guessing. It’s raw, it’s intimate and it lets two bodies speak the language of the music they’re dancing to.” He tells you passionately. You stand there with just Seonghwa, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. 

“I’m trusting you, baby” He utters softly, gazing at you. “So I need you to trust me too”

He looks down at your body, his gaze following your fingers absentmindedly playing with your dance skirt. You look back up at Seonghwa, tracing the faint wrinkles near his eyes, the curve of his jaw, and the structure of his overall face. If trust was what he was talking about, then trust he would get. 

You shrug your tank top off, exposing the white lacy bra you had on underneath. Thank god you wore something nice today. Seonghwa lets his hand find their usual place around your hips, letting you shrug out of the oversized rain boots you borrowed from before, padding your bare feet over the damp, freshly rained grass. 

The moment is quiet, personal. You’ve never done anything like this with Seonghwa before, or with any other person for that matter.

“You’re real pretty when you listen well” You hear from above you, cheeks flaring up and mouth becoming dry as you shoot a look at Seonghwa focused on your eyes.

“I’m joking,” he smiles. “You’re always pretty”

Was Park Seonghwa flirting with you right now? The guy you swore had it out for you every time you crushed his toe with your heel? You can't even believe the fact that you two were standing here in this vast luscious meadow, half naked under an oak tree and sharing this intimate moment together. 

He lets go of your touch, running a few steps back as he readies himself to lift you. With a clap of his hand, he leans a little forward so the silver chain around his neck hangs back and forth. 

“C’mon baby, I know you’ve got it” he grins.

Here it was. The big lift. The one move you had been dreading during the whole entirety of rehearsing. Every single time you even tried listening to Seonghwa explain it to you made your palms sweaty, the image of you falling to the ground and breaking your skull imprinting your mind.

The grassy ground feels foreign beneath your feet, but you can see why Seonghwa chose to bring you here in this vast meadow to practice lifts. It was far better being cooped up inside a studio. This was away from the resort. Away from people. Just the two of you. 

You see him urge you to run. He’s watching you carefully, ready to support you. And so with his trust, you're sprinting forward, sharing a loud scream as Seonghwa hoists you up into the air. It was just enough so that your upper body lifted up magically, seeing a new level of your natural environment. Your toes are off the ground for a few moments before you're brought back down. 

You’re so close to him that your breath becomes shared, noses on the verge of hitting each other as you glance at his lips for a split second. You’re hyper aware of how he feels right now, his hands on your body keeping you safe and god dammit you realize you kinda do like it. You like Seonghwa, and he looks as though he might like you back.

He clears his throat, finally pulling away. 

“Good, that’s it, I want you to do the exact same thing but hold your core longer this time” He tells you, cautiously taking a few more steps back on the soft, plush grass. “I’m gonna raise you up a bit higher”

You let out a deep breath, shaking your nerves though you confessed to Seonghwa the fear that had been circling your thoughts. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” 

He chuckles but then softly assures you, his heart clenching. 

“You won’t hurt me baby. Now again! Jump!”

Finally the night of the performance comes. You’ve practiced your steps, you’ve tailored your dress, you’ve noted to keep your shoulders up like the hundreds of times Seonghwa told you so, and you’ve prayed even more times for the lift to turn out well. But the pre-performance jitters are still really getting to you.

Peeking out from behind the backstage curtain of the hotel you and Seonghwa were performing for, your eyes look over the crowd of folks present tonight to see you dance. 

God, you felt as though your stomach was going to fall out of your ass. You feel nauseous, looking around to see if there was a mop bucket or something for you to puke your guts in when a warm hand comes to rest on your waist, turning you around so your back hits the stage wall. 

Suddenly you realize you’re trapped underneath Seonghwa’s hold.

“Hey, look at me baby” Seonghwa tells you, voice firm but softening a bit when your nervous eyes reach up to his. He looks dashing in his sleek suit slash tuxedo, his hair gelled back and different from the soft curls that would hand over his forehead when you two practiced. You watch as he begins to assure you. 

“Just like we practiced.” He brushes a loose curl from your hair, the action making butterflies explode in your already nervous stomach. You bite your rouge coloured lips, the sparkly dress and heavy makeup Minny did for you making you feel out of place. You're scared of messing this up.

“Follow my lead and you’ll do great.” 

Seonghwa seems nervous but there wasn’t a possibility it could be as much as you were. Your lips part softly when he touches your arm to remind you one last time. 

“And sweetheart, don’t forget to have fun” he grins. You nodded back, your thoughts clearing a bit thanks to his comfort. 

And now, the Sheldrake Hotel presents Park Seonghwa and partner in Mambo Magic! 

The voice through the microphone pulls you from the wall. Carefully, Seonghwa takes your hand in his own, straightening his posture and flashing you one last look before you take to the stage, the blinding show lights coming into view as the audience claps enthusiastically. The stage looks bigger than it did off stage, your mouth feeling like there were cotton balls shoved inside it. He takes his position behind you, hand on your hip like you’ve practiced a million times when the music finally begins. 

It’s funny how the body acts on its own. One second you're completely still and the next you're following Seonghwa to the rhythm of the music, your steps fast, precise. 

Before you knew, your body already knew. 

He spins you around, grasping your hand as the skirt of your red dress flowed gracefully, hearing the sounds of the impressed audience watching below.

Every move you made fell in line with what you had learned, a reassuring comfort to have Seonghwa’s hands on your body almost the whole time as you let him serenade both you and the audience. 

“Doing so well” He muttered under his breath, his expression never changing as you successfully executed your cross body lead. A little bit of pride grows in his heart. Seonghwa does incredibly like he always did, watching how his expressions changed to correspond with the music, his dancing following with the changes in tempo. Park Seonghwa was born to perform.

Finally it comes time for the grand finale. The lift. Seonghwa steps back, giving you the space you needed before he ushers you into your cue. You don’t know what happens to you after doing well so far, but you stop right at the end of your tracks, come face to face with a bewildered looking Seonghwa who watches you attempt a random dance move to keep the music going. 

God, no!

His arms find his way around you, leading you into his steps expertly before soon the song ends and you're both posing with baited breath, face to face with the final spotlight shining down. 

The audience erupts into applause, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief wash over you. You did it, and it was over, but you still had to swallow the disappointing truth. 

You didn’t make the lift.

Seonghwa takes your hand in his own, both of you taking a deep bow before striding off stage. Only when you're out of the stage lights do you burst in apology, catching your breath from dancing. 

“I’m so sorry, Seonghwa.” shaking your head as you already expected the criticisms to follow. “I chickened out at the last minute and I couldn’t do the lift. I-I thought I could, but then I saw you and I didn’t want to risk it, and I’m pretty sure I was late on that last step and I’m really sorry for stepping on your toe-”

His hands engulf your body into his own. Inhaling his strong cologne and the musky smell of cedar and cigarettes, Seonghwa has his arms wrapped around your body in sheer proudness, patting your hair and whispering softly into your ear. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you, you hear me?” He says, cutting you off. You didn’t know what to say, your body tensing under his sudden actions. 

“I don’t care about the lift, baby. We can work on that later” he comforts you. He pulls back, watching your stunned face. He tries to open his mouth to speak, but he stops to collect his words.

“You were incredible… you did so well.” The compliments circle towards your beating heart, making your worries disappear with what he says next.

“Minny would be proud of you” he smiles, the corners of his mouth turned upwards. 

You grinned back, tears forming in your eyes with huge relief. You hug him back wholeheartedly this time, the other performers watching you two backstage. 

You shared the embrace for a while longer than before. This time, not as dance partners but perhaps something a little more.  

After the first performance, you continued practicing with each other. You both learned to adjust to each other's dancing, and the lifts and spins eventually came like second nature to you. Soon, sweltering July heat faded into soft August showers. A close partnership blossomed between you and Seonghwa, finding each other's rhythm every time you snuck from the west building to practice in the abandoned barn house, even when the dance studio was closed. You found yourself running off to dance with the boy, even when your performances were over. You already raised enough money by booking shows at every hotel, inn and resort nearby, and you were more than relieved to have found a doctor in town, willing to help Minny.

And what do you know, you and Seonghwa turned out to be too good of a dancing couple to not do a few more extra shows with. Dancing turned into a real, second job for you now, and that meant the chemistry between you two changed. 

“Promise me you’ll take care of him” Minny asks you the night before she’s headed into town. You know she means Seonghwa. Her manicured nails grasped your hands and held them close. She would be gone for a few days for the procedure, but she knew she had to still say her thanks to you before she left. 

Minny stands in front of you looking like a girl scared shitless for her life. You knew how strong she was for going through all this, and you only prayed for her to receive the best outcome that reflects her choice. Not the outcome any other fucking person wanted in order to criticize her for her mistakes. 

Your eyes soften when she mentions Seonghwa. 

“I’ve danced with him since we were kids, baby.” she confesses. “I know what he looks like when he’s out there performing, that, that look he has that makes him feel like he’s got everything he needs in the world.” 

“He looks like that with you. I know he wants you just as much as you do”

You blush, shaking your head in denial before she catches you into a gentle hug. 

“I could never thank you enough, baby” she whispers, making your heart go warm. “You’ve done a favour for me that no other being but a real friend could do”

For the first time since coming here, you felt as though you could confidently say you had found happiness in something, and that was from finding both a passion and a friend. 

“C’mon Minny” Yunho softly calls for her from behind, leaning against his car with the door open. He’s gonna drive her into town and take care of her just like he said he would. 

He looks back at you with a smile, and you reciprocate it back to the blonde boy.

“Drive safe” you told them, watching Minny wave you goodbye. 

You were undeniably scared for Minny. 

But seeing her walk back to intertwine her fingers with Yunho who stands by her side by the door of the car, looking as though he was ready to fight the entire world for her, you knew that she would be okay. 

“C’mon doll, I didn’t teach you to dance with form like that” Seonghwa teases you one afternoon a few days later, the barn house empty as you two fooled around with a new set of LP’s Hongjoong bought. 

He slides his strong arms down your thighs, adjusting the casual position you were dancing in, though the gesture is in fact far from innocent. And it still makes a smile curl onto your face. 

You shake from his hold with a gasp, feigning fake innocence and batting your lashes to a cocky looking Seonghwa who stares down at you with pulsating desire.

“Now don’t go correcting me about form when I can see your hands just can’t keep to themselves” you teased, your hands ghosting over his exposed skin under his shirt, pushing away his grabby arms as you suddenly switched roles. You were becoming the teacher and him, the student. 

Seonghwa groans at your cruel teasing, watching your legs shuffle themselves to the music, your hips brushing against each other every so often that it drives Seonghwa mad to have to keep his composure like this for another second longer. 

“Look at you move, Jesus Christ” he mutters.

“Uh uh, you keep your eyes on the mirror, Hwa” You commented, using his own words he once used against him. “Not on me, baby” you smiled.

Seonghwa doesn’t think he can take it anymore and swipes a hand to hover near your ass, gripping the flesh hungrily so your back was pressed to his chest and he could feel you dance against his body. Nothing would be able to pass in between you. 

You bit your tongue to prevent letting out a moan. Did he always have to pull the rug right under your feet like that? Just when you were finally starting to get the upper hand in the moment, he leaves you feeling like you had no absolute control from the beginning.

“Keep it up and let’s see what happens” he hums into your ear, the movement of your bodies having reached a new level of comfort and compatibility. 

You just fit so well together now. 

He continued to rock you back against his thigh, matching the slow tempo of the music. Even while you couldn’t see him due to your eyes being closed in pure bliss, you could feel his stare on your face. The expression you put on while grinding against his body, his intent stare reflecting through the mirror. 

All that sexual tension that had been manifesting between you two these past weeks was reaching its limit. The time was now, and Seonghwa was afraid it would all end with him doing whatever it was that he wanted to do to your sweet body. 

The last song on the record ends as the vinyl comes to a stop. You opened your eyes to see Seonghwa gazing down at you. 

“Keep moving,” he whispers, his breath hot against your cheek. He wanted you to move not because the music was telling you, but because your heart was telling you. 

There's that thumping feeling of your heart that makes your ribs rattle against your chest, pressing on the tips of your toes to look him properly in the eyes. 

“If you want me to move, you’re gonna ask me nicely, Seonghwa” who marvels at the sight of how far you’ve grown out of your shy timid shell.

“Look at my baby making demands” he says in astonishment, a giggle escaping out from you. Then the dancer stoops his neck down, leaning close to fulfill your request.

“Please, baby” he moans, watching as your hands creeped up his chest. He looks at you with an intense gaze, sucking you into a need that’s bordering obsession. 

“Be my good little girl”

Your lips crash into his, your actions becoming the fuel to set ablaze a burning fire of lust that leaves Seonghwa hoisting you up into his arms, hands supporting your thighs as he pushes you against the full length mirror. 

“Fucking finally” he mumbled as front teeth clashed, fighting for dominance with you as you made out passionately. His hands caged you against the wall while your thighs straddled his hips and your legs linked from behind his ass. You could feel Seonghwa’s hard member pressing against you up from through his slacks, letting out beautiful whines and deep gasps as your pussy craved for pleasure.

“Please, Hwa” it turned into now your turn to beg. You allowed access for his lips to trail down your open jaw onto the skin of your neck, his breath tickling you.

He coos at your pathetic state, deciding to sit himself down onto a nearby couch in front of the mirror, bringing your thighs to cradle him on each side, knowing that this position would give him the perfect view of your back. 

He moans, feeling your lips press hickies against his neck, his eyes following the curve of your ass in your jeans. 

“Let me see you move, baby”

Those words mean something different now. They can’t mean what they did before in rehearsals. Not when you’re laying on top of Seonghwa right now, stripping your clothes off, so that his cock finally brushes against your sopping wet folds. 

Seonghwa is big. Even with just his pants on, his belt unbuckled and his leaking tip poking through, you can tell he’s hiding a little more length underneath. He doesn’t dare take his lips off of you, moaning as he hurriedly shuffled through the pockets of his leather jacket hanging nearby, taking out a condom as a few others fell to the floor. Why even bother to pick them up when he knew it would be easy access for him when he fucks you against the floor later. 

“Seonghwa, quickly” you begged softly, watching him slide the latex over his cock. It had been so long since you felt anyone inside you. Your first time had felt so underwhelming and disappointing you thought you’d never want to have sex again. 

But fuck that because Seonghwa here has you begging like a bitch in heat.

He stops his movements to look at you properly, holding your soft cheek in his right palm as he brings you back from a hazy trance.

“Hey, listen to me” he mutters, looking almost like he was in pain to fight back the urge to not just take you right there.

“I want you so bad, baby, I really do” he mumbles, his raven coloured hair falling from its secured style to frame his face. He catches his breath for a moment to look in your desperate eyes. 

“But I also want to make sure I hear it from you” 

You’re about to give him what he wants, but the words get choked up when Seonghwa accidentally shifts his hips in a way that causes him to slip in his seat, rutting his hips up and feeling his bulbous tip slap your awaiting entrance. 

You mewl, clawing at the sofa material. 

“Shit, fuck, I-I need to hear you say it baby. Tell me you need me” he sighs, watching you cry out loud and fall to his chest, his arms cradling you while your bare tits brushed against him. “Can you tell me you need me?” he whispers.

“Seonghwa, I need you right fucking now” you reply instantly, not believing how long its taking for him to make love to you on his lap.

“I need you” you repeat a dozen times, yelping when the anticipating stretch you were dreaming of finally came. 

Seonghwa allows his strong arms to wrap around you and support you, pressing kisses on the side of your forehead. “That’s my good girl” 

“Oh fuck” 

“Doing so good. Look at your form through that mirror” he observed, watching your back arch from behind you, staring as his cock disappeared when you sank down again and again. 

You gripped his shoulder, unsure of his deal with watching him fuck you, but you let him do so, the pleasure consuming you. A sound was building inside of you as your hips snapped to the rhythm that Seonghwa made for you, watching you ride him. He was leading you, just as he always did on the dance floor, 

That sound struggled to be let out. A cry, a sob. . . you weren’t certain what would follow next, just knowing that Seonghwa’s cock felt so good. Too good. 

His hands grip the mounds of your behind, his breath turning uneven with every passing second.

“Look at my little baby, too fucked and drunk on my cock to even speak properly” he smiles, throwing his head back when he feels your walls clench harder. His hands roam your beautifully strong thighs.

The lewd squelching is embarrassing to hear resonate throughout the empty bar house, mumbling incoherent words when all of sudden, Seonghwa slaps one of your ass cheeks, causing a burst of fire to spread through your legs, your already weak knees breaking their position as your breath hitched into a surprised yelp.

“Fuck, Seonghwa!” You moaned loudly, the sounds echoing off the walls.

“You like that baby, don’t you?” He teases. Your knees begin to give out, turning your face away from the mirror so you wouldn’t have to watch as Seonghwa used you mercilessly. His pupils were dilated, a slight obsession forming while watching you.

“Pretty things have to be watched properly, don’t they?” he tuts, pulling your hair  to the side and letting your head turn on his chest so you were now forced to get a glimpse of both your expressions in the mirror reflecting you. He already feels that you’re both close. 

“S-shut the h-ah- hell up” you had the audacity to mumble, tears forming near your eyes that make him laugh sadistically. He wasn’t even gonna spank you for that tone, he‘ll just fuck you harder.

“But you’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you?” He goes back to his soft voice, palming your ass as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. 

“You’re still gonna take all of my fucking cock, right baby?” 

You nodded compliantly, the last few whines leaving your swollen lips from biting them too much, as it suddenly feels all too much.

“Yes, yes, I’ll take it!” 

Your shuddering as your orgasm takes over you and you let out a weak noise, feeling Seonghwa fuck you till he came as well. 

“T-Take me” you mumbled under your breath, giving into the submission. “Make yourself feel good too” you sighed, knowing that he would treat you the same, if not better. 

And at that, his cock twitches, letting out a groan as he finds his release too. Your warm walls clenching and unclenching periodically. 

Heavy breathing resonates throughout the room. The smell of sweat and sex undeniable, falling on top of Seonghwa as he cherished you for a few minutes more, praising you all the while.

”So good to me baby” he pants, holding you as he switches positions to place your back against the couch now. 

“So fucking good to me” he sighs, letting you catch your breath 

You feel his hands coming to either side of your head as he pulls out his cock, whimpering at the empty feeling as you looked down to see the shiny condom filled with his seed reflecting the light. You close your eyes, letting a hand travel down to gently tug on the pulsating tip of his cock that rests on your lower stomach. Seonghwa groans, silently thinking he has to tell you or else he’ll regret it.

Your legs spread a little bit further, feeling his slick coat your stomach. Perhaps he would let you suck —

“I love you”

You opened your eyes to see Seonghwa is looking down at you like he’s never done before, sweat glistening on his skin as his chest heaved out every last breath from him.

You both lay there in silence, feeling stunned as you watched him lean down and press a kiss to your frozen lips.

“Fuck, I’m in love with you baby” 

You blink away small tears, feeling embarrassed that the post-sex endorphins were doing this to you but Seonghwa paid no attention. He was the same.

“I really love you” he says again, almost as if he was saying out loud to realize it again. It makes you wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. You finally whispered back.

“I love you too, Seonghwa”

It feels right. To be here with him and to feel this way. To feel good. 

For so long, a part of you felt as though you could never fully enjoy anything you did. This summer job you took up had you looking at life with a one track mind, thinking everyone here was temporary. Though in that moment as you pulled Seonghwa in closer, you knew he wouldn’t be temporary. 

This boy would be forever. 

“Baby?” Seonghwa calls to you after a moment passes, just as you’re bathing in the sweet feeling of gentle aftercare and calmness. 

You hum, the head resting against your chest moves as he adjusts himself to be face to face, with you looking up at him. He caresses your hair in his hands. 

“Tell me your real name.”

It takes you a second before the name spills from your lips.

Seonghwa smiles, pulling you in closer and tucking his chin in the valley of your neck.

“It’s beautiful. And it suits you. Suits you just fine”

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄:

Seonghwa pats your back softly, calling you by your real name which he silently wishes you told him earlier, just so he could've called you by it more. 

You shake your head insistently, words coming out muffled as you hold him in your arms, desperately trying to remember this feeling for a moment more. 

“Five more minutes” you quickly stated, making Seonghwa break into a soft grin. 

“I gotta go, love”

You didn’t take that for an answer, fighting back the tears and frustrations as you looked up.

“You don’t have to leave” you cried, lashes fluttering as the teardrops fell from your eyes. Seonghwa looks down at you, calmly wiping them away. Yunho was right. Sometimes you really were a baby.

“You could stay. don’t go” you begged naively. 

It was only so long before your Aunt found out about you sneaking around with Seonghwa, and it didn’t take the boy a split second before he knew he wasn’t gonna let you lose the job. So he took the full blame.

His car is packed, his small box of belongings that he came here with sitting in his backseat as the clouds drifting in the blue summer sky above, cast a shadow down over you two. 

This summer will never be forgotten. What you had learned, what you experienced, what you had felt. It would stick with you wherever you’d go. In that sense, Seonghwa would then still be with you forever. Maybe just not side by side with you.  

He looks down at you and asks you softly. 

“Are you gonna keep dancing even when I’m gone?” His thumb places itself underneath your chin, making you look up at him. 

You nod. There was no denying it. 

“Then that’s all I need” 

Seonghwa smashes his lips against yours for one last time, making you stifle your cries as your lips move in sync, savouring each others taste. 

He’s first to let you go, brushing the tears away with his thumb and grabbing his leather jacket that he left perched on the hood of his car. 

Without any more words, Seonghwa gets inside the driver seat and starts the engine, a roar coming to life as he slowly drives off into the distance, leaving you standing alone with a hand over your heart. 

You were right. He would always be your forever. 

after the police crashed shotaro’s party, everyone became paranoid. guest lists were kept small and big blowout parties turned into medium sized gatherings or calm kickbacks. 

some people complained about it, how the looming authority of the cops took away the joy of being young. there was the constant fear of being busted, especially from the kids that were caught and given a warning by the cops. your team complained about it too. you found it odd that they complained about the small parties when a majority of it was spent outside, passing around substances. very few times did you actually see your team inside the houses of the party instead of the lawn. you never said this out loud because there was nothing your team hated more than being considered hypocrites. you preferred to tough the weather conditions rather than try to navigate sticky floors and loud music. atleast this way you could actually hear your teammates as they ran through topics of conversation while smoking cigarettes down to the butt.

speaking points of your little huddle changed each week. you had started referring to them as your debriefs of the week. some topics would be on a rotation, ever now and then there would be something so monumental that happened it would be brought up time and time again. when you were freshmen, it was when karina caught her ex red-handed with a former member of the cheerleading team. your huddle combed over every detail of the night, adding in things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but just gave you more to talk about. each time you thought you were done and then you’d hear an i just think it’s funny how before everyone dove back into the conversation

as of late, you and sungchan became one of the main topics of conversation. it started when you and ryujin successfully escaped from shotaro’s busted house party. you barely had time to look back at sungchan as ryujin pulled you out the room and down the stairs. even though it was inevitable a party of that size in a neighborhood that quiet would get busted, it was still scary. warnings from law enforcement evolved into tickets and in school suspension after a call home. you even heard a case of someone having to get picked up from the station. you saw that some of your classmates had already been made into examples. they sat lined up on the curb like ducks in handcuffs while officers wrote them tickets.

before you could walk out the front door right to the cops, ryujin grabbed your hand and pointed towards shotaro’s backyard. you looked at the cop coming through the front door and locking eyes with you before turning on the ball of your foot, running towards the sliding glass door. kids rushed beside you going in all different directions. you knew it wasn’t nearly as scary to get caught by the cops, but the haste of everyone else made adrenaline pump through your veins. 

when ryujin said your only option was jumping the fence you wanted to tell her that your legs were still exhausted from what you were doing in shotaro’s room not even five minutes ago. you didn’t have time as you ran past your slow peers, or narrowly evading the cops that were in shotaro’s backyard trying to grab whoever they could.

ryujin let go of your hand to get over the fence, and you had little time to prep yourself before you leaped over it. you had to thank your career in cheer for helping you clear the fence with ease. you saw a few of your peers get stuck on the fence and that’s how they were caught. you felt like a criminal on the run when you swung your leg over the fence to cut through the yards of shotaros’ neighbors. a few had their lights on, yelling at the small crowd of teenagers as they ran from the police. you recognized a few faces of the people who were able to escape. eyes were focused and everyone ran at full speed trying to hold all their things as they ran from the sound of police sirens. all you could think about were the soles of your poor cheerleading shoes as you ran through garden beds and stone walkways. 

you and ryujin kept running long after everyone around you stopped. the two of you didn’t slow down until you found an exit from the yard, emerging onto the street. ryujin grabbed your hand again and pointed at karina’s car. you don’t know how ryujin noticed the car that was parked underneath the streetlamp. the lights were off and you couldn’t see anyone in the car. it was almost ominous, seeing the single light shine down on the matte black vehicle. 

you two jogged across the street, the sound of your cheer shoes hitting the road louder than the police sirens down the street. karina and chaeryeong’s seats shot up when ryujin pulled on the backdoor car handle.

by the time you made it to karina’s car your shoes were a mess. the pristine white was replaced with dirt and mud, and it looked like it was going to stain. you and ryujin were huffing in the backseat trying to catch your breath. karina wasted no time turning on her car to leave the area.

you didn’t catch your breath for another five minutes. just as you thought you were calming down, your mind took you back to your encounter with sungchan. you barely had time to comprehend what happened before being pulled away. with each breath you remembered the way sungchan puffed into your ear, or how he was moaning for you when he was close. when you closed your eyes to focus that only made things worse. you swear you could see the way sungchan looked at you seared into the back of your eyelids, or how he leaned his head back when he came on your thighs.

ryujin caught her breath before you did. when ryujin was able to speak again she wasted no time to tell the story of how a guy was able to get you to go upstairs. her side of the story was dramatized and exaggerated, but it made karina and chaeryeong’s eyes go wide nonetheless. you were still breathless as you shook your head to try and squash ryujin’s lies, but it was no use. karina’s interest was piqued as she tried to figure out who the man was.

karina looked at your expression for only a second in the rearview mirror before gasping out loud. karina was so shocked her car swerved on the road slightly and had to be corrected by chaeryeong putting panicked hands on the wheel. you had to remind yourself that karina did nothing but smoke tonight, she was the safest one to drive out of everybody. you could probably ask her how the other girls got home to avoid talking about the elephant in the car, but it was too late when karina whispered his name.

“sungchan?” karina said. 

ryujin nodded her head and you stuck your head in your hands, suddenly too embarrassed to even think. you felt karina reach towards the backseat and hit your knee in exclamation.

“i. fucking. knew. it.” karina seethed after each hit

she was entirely too excited, mouth open in surprise as she laughed. karina and ryujin laughed together, waiting for your explanation. you shook your head and ryujin took matters into her own hands. ryujin recounts the story and karina nods her head excitedly, eyes on the road as she gathers in all the new information. chaeryeong corraborates the story, nodding along as ryujin tells karina.

“so i see chaeryeong getting chatted up by that girl on her team that is always hitting on her right? so i go over to her just for a second to bring her back with me because she looks uncomfortable as hell.” ryujin says.

“not true.” chaeryeong says unconvincingly. 

you can practically hear ryujin roll her eyes as you look up from your hands. you see ryujin pointing her finger at you as karina steals glances by looking at her rearview mirror. 

“before i can bring her back, i see this little player walking up the stairs,” karina gasps again and ryujin nods her head. “i see her walking up the stairs with sungchan. his hand is literally on her ass by the way.” ryujin says

“his hand was on my shoulder.” you say matter-of-factly. 

karina looks to the rear view mirror to laugh at you.

“you don’t deny anything else?” karina asks.

her eyebrows are raised and the car fills up with giggles as you say nothing in response.

“i didn’t know you had it in you.” karina says.

“i didn’t know he had it in him.” you correct.

ryujin and karina exchange looks. chaeryeong freezes before turning to look at you in the backseat. you can feel ryujin turning to look at you too. everyone has an extremely confused look on their faces and you subconsciously match their expressions.

“wait. you guys fucked?” ryujin asks.

your eyes are wide as you nod. you thought they knew, but the playful atmosphere in the car changed almost immediately. your three friends are silent as they look to one another. you consider opening up the car door and barrel rolling into the road to get away from the conversation.

“this changes everything.” karina says.

the car is silent again and you see chaeryeong and ryujin nod their heads in agreement. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you try to understand what karina means.

“how?” you ask. “you and eunseok have fucked.” you turn your head to the side to look at ryujin and chaeryeong. "you two have fucked."

“well that’s different. we’ve been fooling around for awhile.” karina says.

“your dynamic with sungchan is so different too.” chaeryeong says.

you look at chaeryeong in amazement that she has so much to say and she shrugs at you to say sorry. you know she’s not wrong when ryujin and karina nod their heads in agreement. 

“it’s gonna be so awkward.” ryujin says.

karina turns on her blinker to go into her neighborhood. you try to come up with a rebuttal or defense but you know it’s the truth.

“i know. it’s gonna be great.” karina says smiling.

ryujin and karina were right. the following monday at school you saw sungchan first, and your mind immediately went to shotaro’s party two days prior. you wondered if he thought about the night as much as you did or if he was as nervous to see you as you were to see him. you debated on walking into an empty classroom to avoid the situation all together, but it was too late. sungchan made direct eye contact with you while anton and eunseok walked next to him. you felt like all their eyes were on you, and you there was a sinking feeling. you imagined yourself becoming the subject of their locker room talk. so when they came closer to you in the hallway your hands tightened around you backpack straps and you looked down, continuing to walk. you completely missed sungchan smiling at you and his awkward little wave and the way he turned his head to look back at you.

anton and eunseok were confused seeing sungchan try to get your attention. they didn’t even think about the time at the party that sungchan was unaccounted for, or how shotaro blew up their groupchat talking about jizz on his towel.

“what was that all about?” eunseok asked.

sungchan shrugged his shoulders and readjusted his backpack.

“i thought she saw me.” sungchan said simply.

they didn’t ask him to explain further. eunseok and anton just continued to talk about the next soccer game and how they were going against their rivals. sungchan was barely present for the conversation, nodding his head to seem engaged. 

it went on like this for the whole day, sungchan thinking about how you passed him by in the hallway without saying a single word. he thought about you and him in shotaro’s room, how embarrassed he was after the fact. sungchan started to think you were embarrassed of the situation too. his face started to feel hot and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking you weren’t satisfied with his performance. you could’ve easily lied to make sungchan feel better. he couldn’t stop himself from putting his head in his hands at the thought of him not being able to please you. sungchan had the habit of losing himself when chasing his pleasure, he was afraid it was to the point that you didn’t have any fun.

when you sat at your table for lunch all their eyes were on you. you looked to ryujin and karina, they avoided your eye contact, picking at food on their plate. you tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, eating your food while the rest of the table stared at you. you took a bite, feeling all of their eyes burn holes into your skin. you look up from your plate innocently, eyes darting to all your teammates.

“what?” you ask.

everyone at the table groans at your benevolence.

“don’t even.” yunjin says.

“details. now.” ningning says.

you look at karina and ryujin. they shrug and immediately get defensive.

“you didn’t say we couldn’t say anything!” ryujin says.

you can’t bring yourself to talk about the situation in detail. your team settles for hearing your awkward encounter with sungchan this morning, how you two made eye contact and didn’t interact. your team becomes your active audience, cringing and giving sound effects to your story. some of them even turn to look at sungchan sitting at a table with his friends. he barely eats his food, pushing around his fruit with a fork.

“he’s looked like a lost puppy all day by the way.” chaeryeong says.

“i mean look at the poor guy.” yunjin says.

she hides a smile and you look over yunjin’s shoulder to look at sungchan. you can’t lie and say he doesn’t look downcast at his seat. he has always been the worst at hiding his emotions, you have seen frustration take over multiple times during the season. he’d visibly roll his eyes at the referee when a bad call was made, and you have seen him get defensive when his teammate was pushed down. but that fiery spirit you saw on the field was nothing like the man sitting at the table, stealing glances at you ever so often. 

when sungchan looked up at the same time you did you both made eye contact. so lost in eachother’s own minds made both of your eyes go wide, embarrassed for some reason to show you were thinking about the other. you held eye contact for a beat too long, eyes darting to your food a little too quickly. your friends laid witness to the whole thing, most of them cringing.

the monday after the party and the party itself gave your team alot to talk about. so now each party they would subtly try to bring up sungchan, trying to see if there were any updates. it bothered them to no end that you would just smile and look down shyly before shaking your head. you were awful at keeping secrets so you simply chose to stay silent. they could see the heat in your cheeks and the way you bashfully shrugged your shoulders, but they didn’t ask you anymore questions.

they didn’t know that by the time the next party came around, you were seeing sungchan consistently. you saw him again nearly colliding with him in the library. it was an accident on your part but negligence on whoever it was that ran into you. you turned around, ready to give whoever it was the meanest look you could muster. but when you realized it was sungchan, the expression on your face changed to pure shock. 

he was no better, getting ready to apologize profusely before his eyes went wide.

neither of you could figure out what to say. you didn’t know it would be so awful to hookup with people at parties and never speak to them again. as you stared at sungchan you were at a loss for words—you had to shake your head several times when you felt your eyes wondering. you tried to push past him quickly to give your groupchat another thing to cringe over. but before you could get away, sungchan called out to you. he reached out his hand as well, but he pulled it back to rest by his leg.

“can we talk?” sungchan asked

that talk led to both of you quietly confessing that you would like to continue seeing eachother. you both kept it a secret from your teams in an effort to keep the mess contained. so many instances of your two teams fooling around made you want to keep everything personal until you decided where the relationship was going to go. 

after the first date you were inseparable. after the second date sungchan asked to be your boyfriend. after the third date sungchan started dropping hints that he wanted to tell the world you were his girlfriend. he started walking you to all of your classes even if they were on the other side of the campus and holding all of your things even if his hands were full. sungchan started dropping his things off in class a little earlier, just so he could lighten the load you had to carry. you adopted your own ways of doting on sungchan. your doting came in the form of notes in his locker on game days wishing him luck and grabbing his hand when you both were alone. it was simple signs of affection, but no matter what sungchan shyly put his hand down and started smiling uncontrollably. 

by the time the next weekend party rolled around you were heavily involved with sungchan. you both found it humorous to sneak around behind your teammates backs, although you weren’t really trying to keep it a secret. you just liked playing dumb when your team would bring up you and sungchan.

when you sat outside of sungchan’s house with your huddle while they passed around their substances you couldn’t stop smiling. something about parties now were even more enjoyable than they were before. even when your group got mad at the fact that they had to move to the backyard to smoke you remained happy, quickly looking through each room for your man. he was constantly going to each room of his house making sure everything remained in tact. 

sungchan knew he was a little bit too high strung to throw big gatherings like shotaro did. after his friend got busted the unspoken responsibility to throw house parties landed on sungchan’s shoulders. he hated the idea of strangers being in his parents house so he settled for a smaller guest list and a designated schedule for when the party was over. he also made his team agree to help clean any messes that were left when the party was over. sungchan was trying his best to not get the police called on him, so he was constantly monitoring the volume of people and the music. sungchan felt an unbelievable amount of stress pacing around his home. it was freezing outside but he sweat from the anxiety, and he couldn’t stop himself from putting people’s drinks on coasters. he decided he was never going to host anything like this ever again. 

the only source of relief sungchan had from the night was seeing you. it was in quick snatches and in between moments of sungchan catching someone doing something they weren’t supposed to. at first your interactions were rushed. sungchan would only be able to grip your shoulders quickly before stopping someone from running into a framed picture hanging on the wall. he kissed your forehead quickly during another part in the night before stopping someone from going into his room. it wasn’t until the party was winding down that sungchan was actually able to flirt with you the way he wanted to. 

it was ironic, the harder he tried to seem cool the more awkward he felt. when sungchan put his hands into his pockets to lean over you, he felt like an idiot. the only thing that kept sungchan going was the way you looked up at him, and nodded your head slowly anytime he asked you if you knew how pretty you were. right as sungchan would be getting into the feeling of it all, he would see another one of his guests about to do something that would get sungchan reprimanded by parents. he kissed your cheek before running off, giving you his saddest look.

you didn’t care if sungchan didn’t spend all night with you. you were having fun outside with your friends hearing them talk about whatever came to their minds outside. it seemed like this time was the only relief you got from your hectic school schedules and grueling practices. 

just as your huddle started talking about you and sungchan, you saw him come into the backyard. he had a bottle of beer in his hand that was just for show as he nervously approached your group of girls. 

“the party is about to end,” sungchan rubbed the back of his neck as your team looked at him unamused. they continued to smoke as sungchan got even more nervous. you smiled at the situation, kicking a rock around as sungchan tried to get in everyone’s good graces. “my parents are gonna be home in the morning.” sungchan said.

your team didn’t react besides karina who nodded to him. sungchan looked at you and smiled, bringing his hand that was awkwardly behind his back to wave at you. it was awkward and he did it for no reason, bringing the attention of your teammates to your interaction. you could feel their eyes drift from sungchan’s hand to yours as you smiled and waved back. sungchan stayed there for a moment with his eyes only on you before he remembered the presence of your teammates. he walked away after looking around your huddle, and slightly tripped while heading back to the door. you failed to hide your smile as your team teased you for the awkward interaction.

you spent the remainder of the party outside with your team, staring at the sliding glass door of sungchan’s house. the door in the kitchen led you right outside, where the main group of people resided. you saw more and more people clear the space as time passed. occasionally you would get a glance of sungchan instructing his team on where to clean up. sungchan would also sneak peaks outside where your team remained unmoving.

“looks like the party is over.” you say casually.

your attempt at sounding casual failed. the moment you finished your sentence your huddle turned towards you with wicked smiled on their faces.

“trying to be alone with sungchan?” karina asked.

“that’s why she’s trying to end the party early.” yunjin laughed.

instantly you shook your head and raised your hands in defense. 

“i don’t know what you guys are talking about.” you say.

it was no use. you were teased the whole time while your group left through the gate in sungchan’s backyard. they only got louder when you said you were staying behind to help clean.

“you’ve never helped clean up after a party in your life.” ryujin said.

your whole team was laughing while you tried to make up an excuse. you didn’t hear the end of it until the door closed to karina’s car. even in the team groupchat they were talking about you. the moment karina’s car backed out of the driveway your phone’s ringer was going off. you were getting sent texts talking about the importance of safe sex and to report back about how good sungchan was at actual sex when you were done.

you were defending yourself over text while walking back into sungchan’s house through the back door. the same kitchen table that was covered in spilled drinks and bottles of hard liquor was completely clean. the whole house seemed to be clean now with the help of the soccer team. they had stayed behind too, walking through sungchan’s place with bags and cleaning gloves on checking for spills or leftover trash. 

you leaned against the table in sungchan’s kitchen waiting to see him again. his teammates passed by you, getting ready to tell you it was time to go home before realizing who you were. when they saw your face, they would nod politely before walking off to continue cleaning. you tried not to think too much of it, maybe they thought you were waiting for your teammates that were long gone. 

sungchan was checking each room of his home trying not to seem frantic. he started at the very top, peaking into the empty room of his parents and then walking down the hallway to check his. when he saw that all of the upstairs was empty, he was happy that there were no stragglers. but when sungchan checked the downstairs living room and the guest room he felt himself begin to panic. he started to think that it was only him, his teammates, and leftover partygoers in his big house. sungchan started swinging open doors without knocking, only muttering a sorry to his teammate in the bathroom before continuing to check the rooms. sungchan almost ran past you to look outside before stopping in his tracks.

you looked up from your phone to see sungchan in the entryway of his dining room. you were still leaning on the table looking up to your boyfriend from something unimportant on your device. you took in sungchan’s frazzled appearance and the way he was slightly out of breath from running around his house. he ran his hand through his hair, pushing the strands from his face. he cleared the singular step that took him down into the kitchen with ease and walked towards you.

“you had fun?” sungchan asks.

sungchan’s perfume gets to you before his hand does. when he leans forward you smell the cleanliness of sandalwood and a hint of spearmint before the warmth and comfort of nutmeg and cardamom fills your nose. the woody cleanliness of sungchan makes you the drunkest you’ve ever been, it almost makes you fall off the counter you lean on. you’re drawn closer to him, and feel him everywhere before he even touches you. 

sungchan brings a gentle hand rests on top of yours as he leans his body closer to you. he’s is at an awkward angle, almost like he is trying to stop himself from invading too much of your personal space. you look down at the shirt he managed to keep clean all night. the baby blue polo for your school uniform it’s too formal for a house party, but the collar looks perfect to grab. you have to fight to stop yourself from closing the space between the two of you. your mind drifts to the image of how the fabric would look wrinkled between your clutched fingers. 

sungchan’s hand that doesn’t rest on top of yours goes underneath your chin to push your gaze upwards. you let your eyes connect with him, and your hands have to grip tighter to the edge of the counter. if anyone else was in the room they no longer mattered—only you and sungchan existed in the space of his kitchen.

“it was alot of fun.” you said.

“it wasn’t as big as taro’s parties.” sungchan said.

you shrugged your shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant. you felt like you were going to snap off the edge of sungchan’s counter with the force of your grip.

“i like smaller parties. they’re calmer.” you say.

sungchan nods in agreement. you see hie body pause for a second before he lets his hand rest on the edge of the counter next to yours. you quickly try to loosen your grip, but you see sungchan hold the edge until his knuckles turn white. it becomes harder to remain calm as sungchan’s eyes get softer. he still refuses to come closer into your space. it's almost torture having him close enough to smell but too far to touch casually.

“i barely got to see you.” you continue.

sungchan nods again. he surprises you by coming in a little closer, his hand underneath your chin brings you to him. you use your hands on the counter to move your body towards his.

when someone clears their throat in the kitchen you both jolt. sungchan’s hand immediately drops from your face and you turn your head away from whoever made the noise. you look outside the window of sungchan's kitchen, looking at the empty yard where you oncee stood. sungchan lets go of the counter to stand upright. he clears his throat too, and you can hear him scratching his head.

“we need help finding more bags.” you heard a voice awkwardly say.  

“i showed you where already.” sungchan said.

“i forgot.” he says simply.

you let a tiny laugh escape you and sungchan shakes his head. when the person turns to leave the kitchen you look and see that it’s sohee. he sat next to you in your home economics class last year. now you would have to avoid him for the next couple days. sohee turned around for a moment and you could almost feel sungchan next to you trying to inconspicuously shoo him away. sohee looked lost for just a moment, looking around where to go before walking out of sight. 

sungchan’s hands that were in the air suddenly moved to his hair to adjust the strands. he looked at you again before swallowing his nerves.

“go upstairs and wait for me?” sungchan asked.

he left the question in the air to let you decide what you wanted to do. his teeth were showing by the time he was done talking, an awkward smiling playing on his lips. you remain straight faced, the only expression showing in your eyes.

“is it going to be just us?” you ask.

you looked past sungchan to his mostly vacant home. the only evidence of a party that remained were the stragglers and the sparse messes on the floors. you saw crumpled red solo cups and occasionally your foot would step in something sticky. your team is long gone. they seemed to have disappeared after you told ryujin your plans, and you’re sure ryujin told everyone else. 

sungchan plays with the short sleeve of your shirt, thumbing the hem so he can touch your bare arm. his hand travels up from the fabric until he reaches your face. he used his thumb to stroke the apples of your cheeks. his eyes focus on the way your skin moves underneath the light pressure of his thumb when he speaks.

“just us. i’ll put people on the street if i have to.” sungchan says. 

you laugh and put your hand on his, moving it away from your face. his eyes snap back to yours, looking to see if you had changed your mind. you try to seem facetious, like you have something in store for him when you get him alone.

“your room is on the right up the stairs?” you ask innocently.

you start heading the correct way when sungchan nods quickly. he stays there for a moment, just to make sure you’re heading towards the stairs. he peaks over his shoulder to see the person that he almost got out the house settled back on his couch. sungchan starts backing towards the person on his couch as you walk towards the stairs. you turn your back but you can hear sungchan call out to you from the living room.

“i’ll be up there soon.” he says excitedly.

when you get to the base of sungchan’s stairs, the way up is daunting. you believe going up shotaro’s stairs were easier, even if his stairs were bare and had to carpet to help traction your feet. shotaro’s stairs had people shoulder to shoulder, not giving you the chance to be alone even if you wanted to. but up sungchan’s stairs—thirteen to be exact—was his empty room waiting for you. you tried to not trip on the even steps, and tried to seem as relaxed as possible incase sungchan had turned around to check that you went into the correct room. your posture is straightened as you try to make yourself seem calm and collected, and your hand grips the railing with a white knuckle.

you somehow make it up, and immediately make a beeline for sungchan’s room. you waste no time closing the door behind you, trying to give yourself as much time as possible to relax. you pace around sungchan’s room in the same timid path to try not and disrupt anything. you look at his desk and his chair that has his backpack hanging on the back. you turn on his lamp and look at the papers he has laid out. 

when you feel like you have looked for too long, you walk to his dresser to read the trophies and medals that rest on top. they’re dusty, some of them newer than others but they all say the same thing. when you get tired of that you move to sungchan’s black bedside table. you debate on opening the tiny drawer, just to take a peak at what’s inside. when the temptation becomes to strong, you walk around the foot of sungchan’s bed to go to the other side. you study the photos and posters on his wall, slowly making your way across his room. at the very end, the closest spot to his bed you see the black and white photobooth pictures you took on your second date. you smile looking at the four photos on top of eachother. only in the first and last one does sungchan actually look at the camera; the two in the middle he spent locked on the expressions you made for the memories. you still remember having to manually move his head to take the last photo. 

you were leaning in close to the photos when you heard the door open. your mind was preoccupied by snooping around sungchan’s room that you almost forgot why you were in here. the fleeting idea of stripping down to your undergarments and waiting on his bed for him posed all provocatively crossed your mind. the idea left your mind almost as soon as you realized you couldn’t look at sungchan’s bed without your stomach doing flips. it was too late anyway sungchan was in the room with you and you turned from the photos on his wall like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. 

sungchan enters his room hesitating. he stands in the open doorframe, to let the light from his hallway spill in. he debates with himself quietly, before using his back to gently close the door. when it’s just the two of you in the room the atmosphere changes. you watch sungchan’s every move as he comes further into the bedroom. he messes with something on his desk before coming around the foot of his bed to get closer to you. this is different from the anonymity of being in shotaro’s room. you are looking at the memories and snapshots of sungchan’s life while the possibilities of how your night is going to go hangs in the air.

sungchan sits on the edge of the bed and gently taps the space beside him. the invitation is timid, almost as timid as your shy steps towards him. the springs of his mattress give underneath your weight, and the dip caused by sungchan's body causes you to get slide closer to him. you can feel sungchan prop a hand behind your body as he leans back slightly. you let yourself lean on his arm, and sungchan flexes to give your body something more stable. he points to the photo booth pictures that are tacked to his wall with the hand that isn’t behind you.

“those are my favorite photos of us.” he says.

you hum in agreement, and let your body lean further into sungchan’s.

“that was a good day.” you say.

for a moment, you and sungchan stay like that, sitting on the edge of his bed while looking at the photos. the silence is comfortable, both of you leaning further and further into one another. you can feel the tension in the room go up as sungchan moves the hand behind you to wrap around your waist. it's slow, first picking at the belt loop of your jeans before going underneath the bottom of your shirt. his hand is warm against your waist, and you scoot closer to him. you can't get any closer without going to sungchan's lap, you only move to show him his touches are invited. you continue to breathe in sungchan, trying to calm your heart by looking at the photos on his wall.

“is everyone gone?” you ask.

“eunseok just left to drop off anton,” sungchan moves his hand to rest on your thigh that’s closest to him. “it’s just us.” sungchan says.

you finally get the courage to turn your head. you look at sungchan, your own face reflected in his eyes as he gets closer and closer to you.

both you and sungchan close your eyes at the same time before the kiss. it’s slow only a gentle peck to figure out what the other wants. too deliberate and overthought on both ends, completely different from the first time. you almost pull back as doubt creeps in but sungchan pushes forward to keep your lips connected. he’s quick, and his lips linger longer. you relax into sungchan as he sets the rhythm.

once you find a steady pace you both become more and more desperate. your hands touch various places on sungchan’s arm to find a good grip and sungchan’s hand goes underneath your chin to slightly push your head up. his other hand that wraps around your waist pulls at your sides underneath your shirt. 

sungchan’s kisses falter, an offering for you to take the lead. you do it without hesitation—one hand reaches behind his back to the nape of his neck and the other clutches his shoulder. you tilt your head and sungchan mirrors your movement, giving you all the access you need. you both become starved, needing more and more with each kiss. the obvious doesn’t have to be said as you two dive into one another. both of your hands move to sungchan’s face to pull him in closer. he responds by getting off the bed and gets in front of you. your lips never separate as sungchan lets you suck on his face.

he’s a good teammate on and off the field, letting you kiss him until you tucker yourself out. when you pull away to catch your breath sungchan goes to your neck, bending even closer to lightly suck and nip at your skin. you clutch the sides of his polo shirt in your hands at the sensation. his plush lips tickle your neck, and the way his large hand tilts your head to the side makes you sigh contently.

you let your body fall back on the bed and sungchan kisses your neck all the way down. you can feel the electricity and sungchan can feel it too. you're already squirming, strong hands on his shoulder keeps sungchan in place. his dick presses against his pants, and he exerts all of his self control to hold himself back. you look so good underneath his body, and he breaks his no outside clothes on the bed rule to prop one of his knees beside your thighs. your hands continue to mess with his shirt, pushing it up to reveal his toned body. you arch off the bed, needing to feel his body against yours.

sungchan is suddenly upright, using quick hands to unbutton his polo. it’s over his head while you come from your daze. you start working on your own shirt, your fidgety hands fail you. sungchan is there to help you the rest of the way even though his hands shake the same.

when you are in your bra he kisses you back down onto the bed. his lips are on yours when you feel for the button on his jeans, clumsily undoing them as you try to keep up with his kisses.

“so pretty.” sungchan says breathlessly.

he started working at getting your pants off. having to lift your hips in the air is awkward, but it helps you push yourself further onto the bed. only your feet are over the edge when you’re left in your under garments. sungchan takes off his pants beside the bed. he adjusts the light setting on his lamp, changing it to a dim setting that still allows him to be visible.

”is having the light on okay?” sungchan looks to you quickly. “i want to see you.”

you shift slightly on the bed as you nod. sungchan’s eyes wander all over your body, staying on the parts of you he couldn’t see in the darkness of shotaro’s room.

he comes back to your slowly on the bed, his knees going to either side of you. he looms over you, bringing your face in for another kiss. this time it’s sungchan sucking on your lips, trailing down until he’s kissing your collarbones.

“can i touch you?” he asks.

his voice is raspy and low. you can feel the thrill shoot up your spine and the heat in the pit of your stomach intensifies.

“please.” you say.

sungchan wastes no time gripping your chest. he moves down your body slightly to place kisses on the exposed skin and to look at your expressions. he presses the pads of his fingers into your pillowy skin, fixated on the way it spills between his fingers. when his lips graze your sensitive areola you lift your leg that's between his. you can feel his hard dick press into your leg and sungchan sighs. when he purposely presses his dick against your thigh you can feel all of him, heavy and hard underneath his briefs. you sigh contently, and quietly moan when his kisses get wetter. sungchan doesn’t try to take off your bra, instead he pushes it down until your chest is completely exposed. 

when he looks up to you again you nod, and your hand goes to his hair. you pet his head and arch your back into sungchan’s mouth and he doesn't hesitate to take you into his mouth. you can’t maintain eye contact when he looks up at you with glossy eyes, almost like he's waiting for approval. you lean your head back into the mattress, hoping that the way you pet his head tells him how good you feel.

sungchan starts moving your body until your head is resting on his pillows. when he’s not sucking on one breast he rolls your nipples between his fingers. you whimper when he pinches a little harder, and you can feel his smile against your wet skin.

sungchan drags his tongue across your chest until he latches on your other nipple. the cold air in sungchan’s room leaves the sensitive bud hardening, and the stimulation leaves you a squirming mess. you are only temporarily sated when sungchan’s fingers push underneath the waistband of your panties.

“so wet.” sungchan says quietly.

you only whine in response, and your legs close around sungchan’s hand. he smiles when he sees your swollen lip caught between your teeth and your hand fisting the sheets on his bed. your legs give sungchan’s hand no resistance when he separates them at the knee. he swipes his finger down your folds while he looks up at you.

“can you?” you ask.

sungchan nods before sliding a finger in. your body trembles. when he puts in two fingers you grab him and pull him close, pressing his face the soft skin of your stomach. 

“i can barely fit two fingers” sungchan says.

he’s amazed when you start lifting your hips slightly. sungchan looks up to you and purposely locks his hand in place to see what you will do. when your stomach starts tightening so you can fuck yourself on his fingers, sungchan's eyes go wide. when you hiss each time his fingers go all the way inside of you, his dick twitches in his briefs. when you have to shake your head after sungchan tries to scissor his fingers, he has to focus on something else in his room.

“you’re perfect.” sungchan says out of breath.

he keeps his fingers in place, looking down at you as you slowly bring your hips up. your knees come together, and your grip on his sheets turns your knuckles white. when you start shaking sungchan has to pull his fingers out. he kisses away your whines when you start reaching for the waistband of his briefs.

sungchan looks down at your hand on his waistband and considers something for a moment.

“i could barely fit two fingers.” sungchan says.

“we can try,” you begin to pout and reach for your own waistband. “please?” you ask.

sungchan folds immediately, getting off his bed to look in his bedside drawer. you take the time to strip yourself, unclasping your bra and taking off your panties. sungchan looks around his drawer faster before finding what he’s looking for.

“i have these this time.” sungchan smiles.

you look and see the line of foil packets in sungchan’s hand. there’s atleast five, none of them have been separated yet. your eyes go wide and sungchan’s eyes go wide too. his cheeks become rosy as he holds out his hands defensively.

“i don’t plan on using all of them or anything. just extra just in case.” he says. 

sungchan’s words come out rushed and you can’t help but smile. you slowly come to the edge of the bed yourself, letting your legs fall over the edge as sungchan slots himself between them. you snap at his waistband and look up to him. he ineptly detaches a single condom from the foil line, tearing it open quickly. you get back onto the bed as sungchan pushes down his underwear. you only let yourself look for a second to watch him slide the condom on his length. you look away and settle yourself in between the pillows, trying to find a comfortable position as sungchan clambers onto his bed.

you lay down as sungchan hovers above you, propped on an elbow as he looks down between the two of you. the anticipation is almost blinding as he looks to you for reassurance. 

your eyes are closed underneath sungchan, and he kisses your lids to get you to look at him. you look to him for comfort, and his hand touching your face soothes you.

“tell me if it’s too much.” sungchan says. 

you nod and crane your neck to kiss his lips. he kisses you back, and continues to kiss you as he lets his tip prod at your entrance. sungchan keeps his kisses constant, pressing lips to your open mouth. sungchan lips move all along your face as he goes further and further. when your walls clamp around him he can’t go any further without resistance. your sounds had graduated from whispers to moans when sungchan has to stop.

“you’re so tight.” he hisses.

“it’s alot.” you whimper.

sungchan stills inside of you and you bring your legs up to bend at the knee. spreading helps open your hips more, but an almost pained expression flashes against sungchan's face.

“should i pull out?” sungchan voice shakes.

“no,” you shake your head a little too quickly. “just go slow.” you say.

sungchan nods and kisses your forehead. he goes at an even slower pace. so slow that you can feel him everywhere—by the time sungchan’s hips kiss yours you’re consuming all of him. the way his hair shakes in the space between the two of you, his hand gripping your hip and his lips on your cheek. he pulls away only to go to the crook of your neck.

“you’re soooo tight.” sungchan rasps into your ear.

the way sungchan emphasizes almost makes you apologize. when you spread further to try and give him space he winces and holds your hips tighter.

"fuck. oh my god."

sungchan’s voice is almost whining in the skin of your neck. you let your hands go to his back, trying to find a comfortable position. you press on his back, and sungchan looks up from your neck to kiss your jaw.

“can i move?” sungchan asks tensely. 

you tell him yes, and when he pulls out to slide in just as slow you move your hips up to meet him the rest of the way. sungchan sighs and you do too. you don’t know how you didn’t ask him to fuck you then and there in shotaro’s room all that time ago.

“it's like a perfect fit.” sungchan looks at you when he slides in a little faster.

“please don’t stop.” you whine.

“i don’t wanna,” you accidentally squeeze around sungchan’s length. “oh my god.” he says.

when sungchan kisses your lips again, you flex your abs to purposely clamp your walls around sungchan’s dick. you fail a few times, but when sungchan’s kisses falter you know you’re doing it right. you look to sungchan’s eyes and he looks down at you. his eyes are wide and blown out. he turns his head slightly when you keep squeezing around him, and you lift your hips to increase his pace. 

“too much.” sungchan whines.

sungchan usually wasn't the one too back down from a challenge. that's why he was the leader of his team and why he was so good at his sport. when faced with a challenge he was able to find a way around it. he thought that breathing and focusing on anything else would keep him there with you. as he continud to slide in and out, he focused on his breathing, the way your face was contorting in pleasure trying to take all of him. the excitement that hung heavy off of him was bearable until the look in your eyes changed and sungchan felt your walls clamp his dick. almost too fast his hips stuttered and yours picked up their pace. his grip on your waist was useless as it loosened and he was pulled in close by you. the thrill he kept at bay shot up his spine and rang in his head.

sungchan moaned into your mouth when he came undone. it was desperate and quick, arguably even ruined as he started rutting into helplessly. his moans turned into whines while he released into the condom. feeling his climax brought you closer to your own peak, but you could feel yourself coming down when his sweaty body slumped on top of yours.

only a moment passes before his head shoots up from your chest, looking you in the eye. they’re no longer glazed with concern, only wide and blown out as he maintains eye contact.

sungchan said nothing when he stood up on his knees. your body can’t be cooled by the sweat when you feel his hands press to the back of your thighs. you moan at his strength, how he’s bending you in a new way. this sungchan is nothing like the whimpering mess that was panting against the skin of your neck before. this wasn't the sungchan that came on your cheer skirt almost untouched. this is the sungchan that has your knees pressed to your chest and watches his dick glide in and out of your pussy.

“feels good?” he asked, looking up to you.

“faster.” you whined.

”you got it” sungchan smiled.

sungchan went harder and faster, fucking you into his mattress. later down the line, once you got used to him, sungchan will coo at you teasingly as your responses came out jumbled messes. he would have to prove to you how possessive he really was, how the thought of anyone else seeing you like this made his skin crawl. without saying anything, sungchan could see you understood. he could tell by the way you looked at the shaking medals that hung above his bed while his headboard make contact with the wall. he could see your frantic hand trying to find something to steady yourself, first grabbing at the sheets before digging your nails into his arm. sungchan moaned, only using the pain as motivation to fuck you faster. 

you could feel his strength behind each thrust and the hold on your thighs. the sound of skin slapping against skin drowned out your moans. sungchan heard you perfectly when you moaned about being close. looked away from your face to look where your hips met. he used only one hand to keep your thighs in place and used the other to whirl his finger on your clit. your other hand rested on top sungchan’s hand that kept your thighs in place. sungchan looked to your face again and clasped his hand over yours. both of you worked together to keep your thighs in place while sungchan kept his pace.

“cum for me baby.” sungchan said.

the way sungchan spoke to you had you coming undone. he was tender but set on his mission. he gave you all you needed to seize around his dick and cry out. by habit you let your moans be muffled by your arm. sungchan’s hand was quick in letting go of your thighs, forcing you to hold them in place while his hand moved your face to his. he swallowed your moans and cries while continuing to fuck you, only stopping when they fizzed off into weak whimpers. 

the two of your stayed in that position, sungchan’s body pushed against your thighs, and you suddenly started noticing the position wasn’t comfortable. you let your suddenly tired legs down, and they slid on the covers until laid flat. sungchan’s exertion seemed to catch up to him too. he was huffing to catch his breath mirroring your hiss when he slid out to continue laying on top of you. when sungchan’s body became too heavy on top of you, you gently pressed at his shoulder. sungchan’s body stiffened and he looked up to you.

“i’m sorry.” he apologized quickly while rolling off your body.

you two laid on his bed in silence while trying to catch your breath. you could feel sungchan occasionally turning towards you. 

“was that too much?” sungchan asked.

when you turned towards him sungchan looked worried. if you had any strength left in your body you would’ve laid on top of him and press lazy kisses to his face to thank him. but you had to regain your energy to ask for another round.

“that was perfect.” you say honestly.

sungchan’s worried expression is replaced with a smile. he already is back to normal, pinching your cheek before leaning over and kissing your forehead. 

“you should go to the bathroom,” sungchan pulls away from your forehead. “always pee after sex.”

he gets off his bed to tie the condom off, stretching his back until it pops and comes to your side. you are barely able to prop yourself up on your elbows as sungchan goes into his dresser. he pulls out boxers for you and a large shirt, setting it beside you. 

you nod and sigh in pain as you bring your legs over the edge of the bed. you playfully hit sungchan’s leg when you see him puff out his chest in pride.

“are you gonna tell your friends how i get down?” sungchan teases.

-

Your hands covered your face, palms pressing into your eyes as you sobbed into the quiet air. Every image of you and Eunseok flashed through your head - from the way he’d kissed you in this same courtyard when you first met to the way less than an hour ago he’d told you that he wished you’d never met. 

How could you be so stupid? How could you think that he loved you too? You’d been hanging around for almost a year and you mostly met up at night, alone in his room. Most of your meetings outside of that happened because your roommate was dating his and even then, you never told Hana how you had been hooking up with Eunseok. You couldn’t tell her now either, not when your skin flashed with hot embarrassment as you recalled his rejection over and over.

Almost a year of shared touches, stolen moments, and conversations you’d only trusted him with - just for him to tell you he didn’t even care about you. Your heart felt like it was crumbling with the reminder and your lungs were on fire as you gasped for breath in between cries.

Your throat and chest felt tight, muscles overwhelmed with the pressure from each sob that tore through your body. You weren’t even sure how long you’d been out here, crouched on the floor crying your heart out. You were oblivious to your surroundings, not even noticing a figure approaching from the side. 

The man stopped in his tracks when he first saw you, glancing around the empty courtyard warily before taking careful steps towards you.

“Um..” He reached a hand out towards you before stopping himself in fear of spooking you. He glanced around again, bringing his hands to the straps of his backpack as he did so. His brows furrowed as he turned back to you, watching as you struggled to even out your breaths as your head slunk between your knees.

He cleared his throat, watching as your body stiffened for a moment at the noise, “Excuse me. Are you..” His words trailed for a moment as your head lifted to look over at him. Your eyes were puffy, cheeks wet and nose pink as you sucked in rapid, choppy breaths, “Are you okay?”

Your vision was blurred by tears, only registering the tall appearance of the man before you before your lips wobbled at his question. A whine vibrated against your throat as you shook your head and dropped it between your knees again, resuming your crying. The boy’s lips parted as he watched you, suddenly feeling at a loss with the situation he found himself in. It was almost 1 in the morning and he’d just gotten back from a late night study session. This was the last thing he expected to deal with tonight.

What was a guy even supposed to do when he found a random girl crying alone at night? He swore he’d seen a video on Tiktok a few days ago about how crying women showing up alone at night was the latest ruse to rob people. The creator had said something about how there was always a second party around the corner that would jump good samaritans in situations like this. He hadn’t thought much about it then but now, he was a little wary. It didn’t help that you looked so pathetic, crumpled into a little ball that made him not want to leave you alone. What if one of the creeps from Alpha Delta Whatever tried to take advantage of you like this? He knew the frat guys weren’t all like that but he’d heard enough stories to stay rooted to his spot near you. 

He thought for a moment that if you were trying to rob him, he was about to make it really easy. 

“Hey,” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he took a step closer to you, “It’s not really safe for a girl to be alone this late at night,”

He didn’t expect you to respond but as you mumbled an incoherent I don’t care in between whimpers and sobs, his shoulders slumped in distress. 

He thought for another moment that if you weren’t trying to rob him, you would make it really easy for others to rob you.

“I think you should care,” He cocked his head to the side, “Statistically we live in a safe area but colleges can be an outlier in that data and college campuses actually show a higher rate in crime related to property damage and theft. You lifted your head, peeking over at the random man that was privy to your breakdown and for some reason was telling you about criminal statistics. It was bizarre enough to make your cries come to a halt for a moment. Your breaths were still shaky as you wiped at your eyes, faintly registering the throbbing pressure in your head.

“What?” You blinked up at him through wet lashes, finally taking a good look at the man. He was tall, really tall, and clad in a boxy zip-up grey hoodie, t-shirt peeking out from underneathm and black sweats. His hands held onto the straps of his backpack and a pair of glasses sat perched up on his nose. Behind the frames sat a surprised expression and a head of fluffy brown hair.

“Hey,” He perked up just a bit, lips tugging into a gentle smile  “You stopped crying,” 

“Yeah,” You sniffled, pulling at the neckline of your shirt to dab at your nose, “Because you started to talk about property damage statistics while I’m here crying over…” Your words got caught at the reminder of why you were here and as the memory of Eunseok’s cold stare and harsh words hit you again, the waterworks started again. The man in front of you could only watch in dumbstruck awe as you leaned backwards to sit on your butt, bringing your hands over your face as your cries resumed.

“No, no, no,” He stumbled forward, slowly crouching down as he brought a hesitant hand to your back. He winced as he felt your body shake against his touch, “Hey I can talk about other statistics,” His brows furrowed as he racked his brain for something to say to get you to stop crying.

“Um,” He sucked in a breath as you folded in on yourself, “Did you know that giraffes are 30 times more likely to get hit by lightning than people,” 

When you continued to cry, ignoring his fact, he felt himself panicking, “Uh..The…Oh! Snails! Snails have teeth. They actually have between 1000 to 12000 teeth if you want to be preci-”

“Stop,” You croaked, shaking your head as you shut your eyes tight, replaying the entire conversation you had with Eunseok earlier over and over, “I don’t give a shit about snails and I really don’t need you to comfort me right now,”

The man froze for a moment, frown cementing on his lips as another whine left your lips.

“Well I can’t just leave a crying girl out here alone. It’s not safe this late at night,” He sighed, shifting to sit down next to you. As a chill ran through the air, he noted how you were only in a t-shirt and jeans. With a sigh he took off his backpack, setting it down next to him, before unzipping his hoodie and draping it over your shoulders. You noticed the smell of his cologne as soon as the fabric set over your body, notes of black pepper and raspberry settling into your nose. You felt the man’s hand on your back again, this time rubbing gentle circles into your skin. You hated to admit it but as he continued his reassuring movements, offering silent support, you felt yourself calming down little by little until your cries dissolved into sniffles and hiccups. 

“Here,” You felt the man next to you shuffling until he nudged your arm with a half-full water bottle, “You don’t want to dehydrate,”

You stared at the bottle and then up at him, noting the kind smile on his face. 

“I don’t know,” You swallowed thickly, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand, “Statistically ⅔ of people globally have oral herpes. How do I know you’re not one of them?” 

The man blinked at you in awe for a moment before his head fell in a quick fit of laughter. Had you not been in a state of turmoil, you would have stopped to admire just how cute his laugh sounded.

“I promise you I’m clean,” He lifted his head, pushing his glasses back up his nose when his eyes met yours again. He held the bottle towards you once more and this time you took it from him. You took a few sips, welcoming the cool feeling of the liquid soothing your throat before handing it back to him with a quiet thank you.

“I’m Sungchan by the way,” He set the bottle back inside his backpack before settling into his spot next to you. You met his introduction with your own, quietly offering your name in between sniffles.

“So….” He awkwardly hummed as he pulled his legs up and rested his elbows against his knees, “I know I’m just a random guy but want to tell me why you’re out here crying in the middle of the night?” You swallowed at his question, setting your head down against your knees before heaving out a big sigh. 

“I met a guy last year,” Your bottom lip wobbled as you started to recount your saga with Eunseok. Sungchan, despite being a total stranger, listened dutifully. His hand was on your back again, gently rubbing every time you would let out little cries between speaking. He thought it was definitely a big improvement from the debilitating sobs he heard moments earlier. When you finished recounting the moments that led up to your arrival at the courtyard, Sungchan was silent. You braved a glance his way, finding his face set into a deep frown.

“That…” He huffed, having difficulty with finding the right words before settling for a few simple ones, “He sounds like a dick,” 

That managed to pull a soft laugh from you and Sungchan’s expression softened at the sound.

“He does, doesn’t he?” You sniffled as another wave of tears washed over you, “I should have realized it didn’t mean anything to him,”

“Whoever this guy is,” Sungchan patted your back before bringing his hand back to his body, “He’s an idiot for not realizing he had someone who loved him this much. It’s his loss,” 

You nodded at Sungchan’s words, trying to convince yourself to believe them. You sat like that for a while, your breaths slowly calming down as Sungchan patiently sat by. He leaned back at some point, letting his palms press into the ground behind him as he looked up at the stars in the sky. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you heard Sungchan yawning.

“Fuck,” You winced, grabbing the boy’s attention as you moved to stand, “I’m so sorry. I should probably get home. I’ve held you up, huh?” 

Sungchan followed your lead, dusting off his pants before shaking his head with a smile, “It’s fine. I couldn’t just leave a lady in distress,”

“Still…” You shrugged off his hoodie, holding it out to him, “I don’t live too far from here so I’ll just get going…”

Sungchan’s brows raised at your words, “You don’t live here?” When you shook your head in response you knew he was going to offer to walk you home from the look on his face. Before he could even present that option, you assured him you were fine to walk yourself.

“I’ve taken up enough of your time and it’s only like a 15 minute walk if I go fast,” You assured. When Sungchan’s concerned expression didn’t fade, you were giving him a little sigh before pulling your phone out and handing it to him, “Here, text yourself so you have my number. I’ll text you again later so you know I got home safe,”

While Sungchan would have rather made sure you got home safely himself, he didn’t want to push too hard considering he’d just met you. In the back of his head, he thought you might still be able to rob him. So, instead he just entered his number into your phone and pushed his hoodie back into your hands. You raised a brow at the action.

“It’s cold out. I live in the Bio house which is just right there” He pointed behind you to a house that stood at the corner of the courtyard, “So I’m fine but if you have to walk home alone, I’d feel a little better knowing you aren’t freezing on the way,”

You sighed at his explanation, “Thank you…” Your words trailed as you realized you had forgotten his name. He couldn’t help but snort at this.

“Sungchan,” He smiled as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, “The names in your phone too if you forget,”

And so, you found yourself quietly slipping into your apartment a little over 15 minutes later. You were glad that you and Hana had gotten a new place for your last year of college - one that gave you both your own rooms. You didn’t have to worry about waking her as you settled into the bean bag that sat in the corner of your room and pulled out your phone. You navigated to your messages, a small laugh leaving your lips at the name Sungchan had set for himself before you sent him a text.

[ to: jung sungchan (guy from the courtyard)

i made it home. thank you again for listening. i’ll be sure to wash and return your hoodie. ]

His response came almost instantly.

[ from: jung sungchan (guy from the courtyard)

of course. make sure to get some rest tonight

and fuck that guy. 

not literally.

sorry…. ]

You couldn’t help but laugh again at his texts. You could imagine him panicking with how fast each message came through.

[ to: jung sungchan (guy from the courtyard)

good night sungchan :) ]

-

-

“I’m so pissed at Wonbin,” Hana told you over breakfast a week later. You raised a brow as you shoved a spoonful of cereal into your mouth, signaling her to continue, “He and Eunseok have been playing video games until 3 in the morning for the last couple of days. He missed our date yesterday because he overslept,” You stiffened at the mention of Eunseok but tried to play it off as you continued to eat your meal. Hana didn’t seem to notice as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

“He said he was coming over today to make it up to me but unless he’s hanging the stars from our ceiling, I’m still going to be pissed,” She huffed before taking a sip, “This is Eunseok’s fault too you know,” You hummed in response, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling burrowing into your chest at the continued mention of the man that broke your heart. It wasn’t Hana’s fault though. Neither she, nor Wonbin, seemed to have any idea you and Eunseok had been hooking up. You weren’t sure why you had never told her but at some point, you’d gotten so far in that you didn’t know how to tell her that you were having sex with her boyfriend’s roommate for months and were falling in love with him.

It felt too embarrassing to tell her now with the way things ended, especially since it seemed that Eunseok wasn’t as affected as you were- given the fact that he was happily gaming every night since.

“The only time he doesn’t get on my nerves is when we all hang out together,” She gestured between you both, “It’s like you neutralize the annoying part of him,”

“Yeah,” You gave her an awkward laugh in response.

“Honestly,” She sat down at the kitchen counter next to you with a snort, “maybe you two should get together so he can be more tolerable,”

You said nothing to that, mouth running dry as it only served to remind you that he had rejected you - harshly, at that. Hana seemed to notice your silence, raising a brow as she faced you.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked, snapping you out of your quick wallowing. 

“Y-yeah,” You nodded a little too quickly, “Sorry. I was just thinking about how I needed to grab some groceries today,”

“Oh,” Hana hummed, “Can you grab some of those protein shakes I like?” 

You gave her a nod in response, mumbling a quick sure before finishing up your cereal.

Once you were at the grocery store later that day, you weren’t even sure what you needed to get yourself. You had stopped by for your weekly grocery run just two days ago so you didn’t actually need to re-up yet. You’d grabbed Hana’s protein shakes already and found yourself in the produce aisle, staring at the mangoes and wondering if you had enough fruit at home or not. You hadn’t realized how intently you were in thought until someone was tapping on your shoulder, causing you to jump with a start. Your hand came to your chest in an attempt to calm the sudden spike in your heart rate.

“Shit- sorry,” Your head snapped up at the sound of a familiar voice, lips parting in surprise at the sight of Sungchan standing before you, “Didn’t mean to scare you,”

He offered you a small smile as you stared at him, taking in the sight of him in a well-lit area. Unlike the night you met, he didn’t have his glasses on - likely having swapped them for contacts. He wore a track jacket, unzipped to reveal a tank top below, and a pair of sweatpants. His skin was slightly flushed and you assumed that he must have come here straight from the gym, especially with how his hair still looked a little damp from sweat.

“Sungchan,” You met his smile with one of your own, “Hey, Um, I meant to text you earlier this week about your hoodie,”

“Oh!” Sungchan’s brows raised at the reminder, “I forgot I had lent that to you,” A soft laugh left his lips as he brought one of his hands to the back of his head, “I actually just saw you when I walked in and wanted to say hi…and uh, see how you were doing. I hope that’s not weird?” 

You shook your head in response, assuring him that it wasn’t weird and that you were doing fine. 

“I think you got to see the worst of it,” Your cheeks burned at the memory, eyes dropping to the floor as embarrassment settled in, “It’s been a bit hard but I’ve been managing,”

“He hasn’t messaged or called you or anything, has he?” Sungchan asked and you shook your head, making the man before you click his tongue in annoyance, “Dick,”

You chuckled at his tone, raising your head to meet his eyes again. 

“He really is, huh?” You said matter of factly.

“I bet he’s ugly too,” Sungchan shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he did so. When your brows furrowed at his words, Sungchan gave you a sheepish smile, “Too much? I was just trying to make you feel better,” At that, you couldn’t help the laughter that left your lips. Sungchan’s grin grew wider at this.

“You’re really funny, you know that?” You shook your head.

“Am I?” Sungchan tilted his head to the side.

 You nodded, “I mean, you found me crying in the middle of the night and one of the first things you said to me was college crime statistics,”

“Hey,” He put his hands up, “You stopped crying for like 10 seconds after that,”

“Because it was so random.” You rolled your eyes.

“Still,” He shrugged, still smiling down at you. A bit of a silence settled between you two with that. You sucked in a breath, looking over at the mangoes as you remembered you were still in the middle of your impromptu grocery run.

“So hey,” You swallowed, turning back to him, “I did wash your hoodie. I live just down the street in the apartments if you wanted to stop by and grab it..maybe?” You weren’t sure why you suddenly felt nervous. Maybe it was because this man had seen you at one of your low points and you barely knew him. Or maybe it was because he didn’t seem to have any judgement towards you despite seeing you like that.

Sungchan nodded at your proposal, “Sure. I brought my car with me so I can drive us and our groceries there,” He glanced down at your cart, “Are you just getting mangoes and protein shakes?” You sighed at his question before settling with a nod. You really didn’t need anything else and weren’t in the mood to waste your money. 

You ended up following Sungchan around for the next 45 minutes, laughing at the little comments he would make here and there. You learned that he was a Biology major and that he was studying to become a doctor. He hadn’t settled on the indication he wanted to focus on but was really leaning towards pediatrics.

“I really like kids,” He shrugged as he told you about it, “My sister’s kid is the greatest little guy you’d ever meet and he makes me want to make sure kids like him are healthy and happy. You know they say kids are the future,”

In turn, you told him about how you were majoring in Education, wanting to become a kindergarten teacher and Sungchan listened intently.

“I’ve had to do some classroom observations as a part of my major and you know, those kids are just so bright. I know a lot of people talk about the pay not being the best compared to a job in STEM but I really think this is something I’ll love doing even 20 years down the road,” 

Your fingers tapped against the handles of the shopping cart as you realized this was one of the things you would talk to Eunseok about. You’d told him how you were worried because your parents had always pushed a STEM major for you. When you’d taken an alternative, they weren’t the happiest and you’d always wondered if you were making a mistake despite being passionate about education. Every time, he’d just tell you how it was your life and that you shouldn’t stress too much.

“I think that’s great,” You blinked at Sungchan, realizing that he was beaming at you from across the cart. “At the end of the day, if you’re happy and you’re doing something that makes everything feel worth it, that’s what matters right? I think you’d be a great teacher and besides the whole argument that teachers don’t make good money is pretty subjective,” 

You were left awestruck at his words, not knowing how to respond. Thankfully, you didn’t really have to as he started to tug your cart towards the self-checkout counters. You hadn’t even realized that talking to Sungchan had made your chest feel lighter compared to earlier that morning as you loaded everything into his car later.

Sungchan’s car was nice, you found. He’d introduced the old BMW as Bella - Italian for beautiful, despite the car being German. He’d bought the car used right before college. He’d worked summers at a restaurant in his hometown’s mall during his last two years of high school and saved enough for half the cost. His parents helped him with the other half as a graduation gift and he'd boasted that he got a really good deal on it since his dad’s friend sold it to him.

After the super short drive to your apartment, Sungchan helped you carry the protein shakes and mangoes you’d picked up to your place despite your insistence that you could do it yourself. You made small conversation as you walked down the hall to your apartment with Sungchan telling you how he had applied to live in your apartment complex since it was one of the nicer on-campus housing options. Unfortunately, all the slots had filled up so quickly that he wasn’t able to get in. 

“Oh I know,” You nodded as you unlocked your door, vaguely noting the sound of voices from the other side “Hana and I were refreshing the website on the dot when applications dropped and-” 

Your words were cut short as you opened the door, coming face to face with three figures in your living room. Hana stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down Wonbin with an unimpressed look. The blond looked like he had come straight here from the gym, clad in a tracksuit, and had a desperate look about his face as he tried to talk to his girlfriend - likely about their missed date. It wasn’t those two that had caught you off guard though. Behind them on the sofa sat the reason for your turmoil over the last week. Eunseok sat slouched on your couch, legs spread as he glanced between the couple. He too was wearing his gym attire and you had to wonder for a moment if everyone worked out at this time of day. When the sound of your voice had filled the room, all three turned to look at you. 

Hana raised a brow at the sight of you and the man behind you, calling your name in question, “Who’s this?” Her expression was notably brighter from just a moment ago. 

“Oh..” You swallowed, avoiding looking at Eunseok at all costs, “This is-”

“Wonbin? Eunseok?” Sungchan’s voice beat you to the punch and you swore that the way your head whipped in his direction must have been comical. He glanced down at you, confused by the sudden wild look in your eyes.

“You know each other?" You hurriedly whispered to him.

Sungchan, ever so confused by your sudden whispering, whispered back, “Yeah, they’re my friends. Why are we whispering?”

“Hey Sungchan,” Eunseok’s voice pulled your attention back to the living room. He had his hand raised in greeting, “Long time no see” 

Sungchan snorted in response, “You’re funny acting like I didn’t spot you while you struggled in the gym an hour ago,”

You were suddenly feeling very sick, ignoring the comfortable conversation between the boys as you closed the door behind you and Sungchan. Sungchan didn’t seem to notice your sudden quiet demeanor at first as he introduced himself to Hana.

Your ears were ringing, body feeling really hot as a rush of scenarios flooded your brain - most of them being ones where Sungchan would tell Eunseok about your embarrassing breakdown and then they’d both laugh about it. You hadn’t even realized that Sungchan had called your name or that every pair of eyes in the room were on you until his hand tapped against your arm. 

“Sorry - what?” You blinked up at him, taking in a deep breath. 

“You okay?” He asked cautiously, lips pinching into a small frown.

“You’ve been zoning out a lot lately,” Hana chimed in, likely referencing your behavior this morning, “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

If the floor would have split apart at that moment, you were thinking that you would willingly jump through it if that would get you out of this room.

“Yeah,” You nodded, grabbing onto Sungchan’s sleeve and pulling him forward toward your room in a rushed movement, “Just been a bit tired lately,” You gave Hana a curt nod, not giving her enough time to ask any other questions as you pushed Sungchan into your room and closed the door behind you. As soon as the door was closed, you looked up at Sungchan, cursing as you saw that he was still holding the case of protein shakes and bag of mangoes. Without a thought, you grabbed the items and went back outside to drop them on the kitchen counter before making a beeline to your room. This time, however, your eyes met Eunseok’s before you could make it back. His brows raised just a fraction at the contact, looking like he wanted to say something but you didn’t give him the chance as you disappeared behind your door once again. 

Back in your room, Sungchan stood stupified by your sudden change in behavior. 

“Are you okay?” He asked warily as he watched you ignore him and walk towards your closet. You found his hoodie neatly folded on the ledger at the top and took hold of it.

“I’m fine,” You spoke in a clipped manner as you held the garment out for him, “Thank you again for letting me borrow this. You must be busy. Should I walk you out?” Sungchan’s brows furrowed at your words as he took his hoodie from you. His expression only contorted into even more confusion as he noticed how your hands were trembling and you avoided his eyes. He spoke your name softly, setting his hoodie onto your desk before reaching out for you. When your body stiffened at the action, he pulled his hand back to his side. 

“Did…Did I do something?” His voice was low, mindful of the people outside. You shook your head, still trying to process that you’d basically overshared your relationship problems with Eunseok to one of Eunseok’s friends. Sungchan was quiet for a moment, waiting for you to speak as he noticed you tapping your hand against your thigh nervously. 

“I..” You sucked in a breath, voice coming out small, “Can you please not tell Eunseok about what we talked about last time?” Sungchan was taken aback by your request, looking back towards your door where Eunseok sat on the other side before turning back to you. His confusion lasted only a few moments though as he began to put two and two together. 

His lips parted in shock, “Is Eunseok the guy?” You gave him a quiet yes in response and Sungchan could only sigh at that as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I know I must look really stupid right now,” You began, forcing Sungchan’s attention back on you and the way your eyes were welling with tears, “Especially since you’re friends and everything but…Can you please keep it to yourself?”

“Hey,” Sungchan’s voice was rushed but he managed to keep a gentle tone to it, “I’m not going to say anything and I don’t think you’re stupid. This doesn’t change anything I’ve said to you and frankly, I’m just thinking how my friend is a real asshole right now and - oof ” Sungchan felt the air getting knocked out of him as your body collided with his, arms wrapping around his middle as your face pressed into his chest. Quiet whimpers filled the air and Sungchan’s body was quick to relax as his own arms wrapped around you, rubbing down your back. 

“It’s okay,” He softly whispered as you held him tighter. He stayed with you like that for a few minutes, listening to how your whimpers died out until you were just standing there quietly. His grip around you only loosened when you started to pull away, wiping at your face with the sleeves of your shirt. 

“Sorry,” You mumbled, glancing up at him through wet lashes. Sungchan’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you before he shook his head.

“No. It’s fine,” He cleared his throat, “You didn’t cry as much as last time. Statistically, some people only start to feel better 3 months after a relationship falls through but look at you doing better after a week,” You stared at Sungchan silently, expression dumbstruck as his words settled into the air. Then, just as Sungchan was about to speak again, you were laughing. 

It wasn’t a quiet laugh either. It was one that shook your entire body, racking past your lungs and making your stomach hurt. You weren’t even thinking about the people on the other side of the door as you wiped at the new tears in your eyes, these ones not formed from sadness. Sungchan laughed along with you, glad that you weren’t crying anymore.

“What is with you and statistics?” You breathed as the laughter faded into quiet giggles.

Sungchan sheepishly rubbed his neck at your question, “I was a bit of a nerd in high school. My friends and I used to see who could learn the most facts in a day so I just have a bunch of stats locked and loaded in my head,”

You found his new revelation exceptionally endearing, almost forgetting about the predicament you were in just a moment ago, “That’s really cute.” You offered Sungchan a smile and he couldn’t help the way his cheeks burned at your words. 

“Thanks,” He nodded, eyes prying away from yours. He fidgeted in his spot for a moment before forcing himself to look back at you, “I really won’t tell him,” You sucked in a breath at Sungchan’s segway back into earlier’s conversation.

“I don’t fuck with what he did and I don’t want you to feel like I’d take his side over yours just because I am his friend,” You nodded at Sungchan’s words, mumbling a quiet thanks. Silence settled between you again before Sungchan gently clapped his hands together. 

“I should probably go though,” Your lips parted into an ‘o’ at his statement, “I do have all those groceries in my car and I don’t want them to go bad,” 

“Y-yeah,” You nodded, gesturing towards the door, ready to walk him out. 

“Oh!” He stopped you before you could, “There’s something I know would drive him up the wall a little though. Is it okay if I try something if he’s still out there?” You were taken aback a bit by his sudden question but agreed nonetheless. Sungchan felt trustworthy enough right now.

So, as you walked out to the living room - finding that Hana’s room door was closed and only Eunseok remained in the living room - you didn’t think much of it. It was only as you opened the door, ready to bid Sungchan goodbye that you caught the mischievous grin on his lips. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” His voice was so soft as one of his hands moved to cradle your cheek and before you knew it, his lips pressed against your cheek in a quick, chaste kiss. When he pulled away his smile was just as soft as his voice and with a final wink, he was turning to walk away, leaving you dumbstruck. You slowly closed your front door as he walked away, locking it before turning back to catch a glimpse of Eunseok simply staring at you. His expression was more shocked now but you paid him no mind as you scurried back to your room, ignoring how he started to call out your name before the door shut behind you.

Back in your room, you noticed that Sungchan had forgotten his hoodie.

[ to: jung sungchan (guy from the courtyard)

you left your hoodie. ]

You stared at your screen for a moment before changing Sungchan’s contact name. A few moments later, your phone buzzed with a response.

[ from: sungchan :)

i guess i’ll have to come back for it another day.

i hope that didn’t freak you out.

he already texted me asking how we knew each other 

told him we met at the library a while back]

-

-

Another week had passed since your fall-out with Eunseok. The man still hadn’t reached out to you and with each day that did pass, you were starting to think that maybe this was all for the best. Someone that didn’t even check up on you didn’t deserve to be in your life and certainly didn’t deserve your tears. 

Still, you couldn’t help when the tears would fall. It was all still fresh and you swore that sometimes when you lay awake at night, you could still feel the ghost of his fingers on you and his warm breath fanning against your skin. It was on one of those nights that you had found yourself pressing your palms to your face in frustration before throwing yourself out of bed. A quick glance to the clock on your wall told you that it was 10pm and while you really should be sleeping so that you didn’t die at your 8am lecture the next morning, you found yourself changing into a pair of sweats and rummaging through your closet for a hoodie. As your luck would have - or more so your laziness - your laundry had piled up and the only clean hoodie you had was Sungchan’s. Grabbing the garment, you wondered how he was doing. He also hadn’t messaged you since your last run in but, in turn, you hadn’t either. It’s not like you really knew each other well enough to check in on each other and he was pre-med so you just assumed he had more important things to focus on. 

Your fingers pressed into the fabric of his hoodie for a moment before you decided to throw it on over your bra. It wasn’t cold enough for you to really need to wear a shirt underneath anyways and besides, it wasn’t like you were going to wander outside for too long.

No, instead, you grabbed your backpack and decided to make the 15 minute trek to campus towards your favorite on-campus library. If you were going to be awake, you might as well get some work done. Despite being an education major, you really liked the biology department’s library. You had frequented it during your freshman year when you had to take a gen-ed biology class and maybe it was because it had become so familiar early on that you found yourself always coming back to it despite the education buildings being on the other side of campus.

You felt your shoulders sag as you walked into the familiar building, taking in the comforting smell of all the books. The building was dimly lit with just a few students occupying the tables inside. Your feet carried to the second floor, finding an empty table by the windows that gave you a clear view of the campus outside. It was like muscle memory as you sat down and emptied your backpack - laptop, textbook, earphones. You put the earphones into your ears, playing your study playlist before opening your laptop up to Canvas where you found a quiz that was due in a couple days. You fell into your routine quickly, head bopping to the songs that filtered through your earphones as you shuffled through your textbook for answers to your quiz. You went through each question without much issue, getting into a good flow as you answered every one in quick succession. You barely registered the person sitting across the table from you, shoving their backpack into the seat next to them. You did think it was a bit weird that someone decided to sit with you when you were sure you had seen so many unoccupied tables on your way up earlier but you didn’t pay them too much mind. It was only when you had realized from the corner of your eye that this person hadn’t taken anything out of their bag after a few minutes that you were glancing up at them.

Your lips parted with a small exhale when you registered Sungchan’s familiar face smiling at you giddily. Today, you found that he had opted for his glasses, fluffy hair falling over the frames. He tapped his ear lightly, gesturing for you to pull out your earphones. 

“Sungchan,” You whispered his name with a smile as you turned the music off and set your phone aside, “Funny running into you here,”

It really was.

A little weird too.

Not once in the last three years had you seen this man before your breakdown but this was now the third time in the last two weeks that you’d run into him on the off-chance.

He nodded towards your laptop, “What are you working on?”

“Just finishing up a quiz,” You shrugged, glancing down at your laptop to see that you only had 3 questions left, “I couldn’t sleep so I came here,”

Sungchan raised a brow at your words and you knew he was wondering if your insomnia was Eunseok related. Not in the mood to make every conversation you had with Sungchan about your failed situationship, you changed the topic.

“What are you doing here?” You cleared your throat before throwing half of your focus back to your quiz. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sungchan leaning forward over his elbows.

“Is that my hoodie?” He ignored your question, posing his own that had heat running up your neck as you remembered that you were, in fact, wearing his hoodie. Your eyes shot up to meet his and where you expected an annoyed look, you found his endearing smile. Before you could even begin to apologize for wearing his clothes instead of returning it like you had promised, Sungchan reached forward to grab onto one of the strings of the hood, giving it a gentle tug before letting it fall, “It looks cute on you,” 

Your breath caught in your throat at his boyish grin and the way his eyebrows raised up for just a moment. You didn’t know how to respond to him, lips pursing together as your cheeks burned at the compliment. So, you didn’t respond and instead forced your focus back onto the last three questions of your quiz. Sungchan let out a quiet chuckle at your actions before leaning back in his seat.

“I was here for a study session,” He mindlessly tapped against the desk, finally answering your earlier question, “We wrapped up a few minutes ago and then I saw you,” You hummed in acknowledgement as you progressed through your quiz.

“How’d that go?” You glanced up at him for a second, taking in the sight of him slouched in his seat. He was wearing just a sweatshirt today, one that had the name of a soccer club embroidered onto it. 

“It was okay,” He shrugged, brushing a hand through his hair before mussing it up from the back, “My brain is fried though,”

“Oh?” You raised a brow as you answered another question of your quiz, leaving you with just one more, “Is the pre-med life getting to you?” 

Sungchan snorted at your words, “Anatomy and Physiology is tough. I want to see you memorize every bone in the human body and their position in relation to each other,”

You laughed at that, shaking your head as you finally submitted your quiz. Your score came back instantly, a triumphant 100% staring back at you. You turned your laptop screen towards Sungchan, “I think I’m good where I am,” 

Sungchan gave a low whistle in response before remembering he was in the library. He nervously looked around the room but when it seemed that no one had really heard him, he relaxed.

“So are you done for the night?” He asked, sitting up straighter. You gave a nod in response as you closed your laptop and book, moving to pack up, “Can I drive you home?”

You peered over at him, surprised by his sudden offer, “Are you sure? My apartment isn’t that far and I can walk,” 

Sungchan was quick to shake his head, “No, no. I know I told you about college crime statistics last time. I was glued to my phone until you texted me back that night because I was so worried,” Your brows pinched together with a smile at the new information and your shoulders shook with light laughter as you pushed your laptop into your bag. Sungchan watched with a fond smile, thinking to himself that laughter really suited you. 

“Fine,” You nodded as you stood up, slinging your backpack over your shoulders, “Lead the way to Bella,” The man perked up at the use of his car’s name, a large grin spreading over his face as he mumbled a quick okay back to you.

Later that night, once Sungchan had dropped you home and you found yourself snuggled up under the covers of your bed, you found yourself texting Sungchan again.

[ to: sungchan :)

thank you for driving me home.

i promise I’ll wash your hoodie again and give it back asap]

[ from: sungchan :)

don’t worry about it

and you can keep the hoodie.]

You blinked at his reply, brows furrowing as you moved to respond how you couldn’t do that. Before your fingers could begin to write out your refusal, you saw the three dots pop up that signaled Sungchan was typing again.

[ from: sungchan :)

you really did look cute in it]

Safe to say, you went to sleep that night with cheeks that felt too warm for comfort and a weird buzz in your chest that you just couldn’t place.

-

-

“Come on” Hana pleaded, hands clasped together as she stood a few feet away from you in the living room two weeks later. In the kitchen, her boyfriend rummaged through your fridge for a snack. Both of them were dressed up for a frat party - one at the same house that you’d met Eunseok at. You were curled up on your couch, the tv show you were watching paused as Hana tried to convince you to join. 

“I have plans already Hana,” You gestured to the television and your half eaten bag of chips in your lap. Hana whined your name in response before turning towards Wonbin, who was stepping back into the living room, taking a bite of a sandwich he’d found. 

“Help me convince her,” She frowned, patting his arm frantically.

Wonbin shrugged, turning to you, “Eunseok will be there. You guys usually talk a lot when we go to these parties,” While he didn’t realize it, his attempt to convince you was doing the exact opposite. Then, however, he said something that had you shooting to attention, “But I think he’s bringing his girlfriend tonight so actually…” Wonbin’s words trailed and Hana gave him an exasperated sigh, failing to notice the way your face had fallen from what you’d heard.

Eunseok had gotten a girlfriend?

“Wonbin that doesn’t help” She groaned, smacking his chest.

“Oh,” Wonbin perked up as another thought came to mind, “You know Sungchan, right? He’s gonna be there,”

“That tall hottie you brought over last time?” Hana’s face lit up with recognition.

Wonbin feigned offense at her words, “I’m right here, babe,” Hana rolled her eyes at his words before turning to you again. 

“Is there anything going on between you guys?” She was basically vibrating with excitement, clasping her hands together. 

“No,” You shook your head, grabbing a chip from your bag as you turned your show back on. Your answer wasn’t a lie by any means. You and Sungchan had started texting a bit more - just a few check-ins from each other and the occasional random statistic from Sungchan. You’d mentioned in one of your messages to him that you liked them and he’d started sending you at least one every day. Just earlier today, he’d texted you about how 20% of the mammal species on Earth are different types of bats. You smiled at the reminder and thought that maybe if Sungchan was going to be there, it wouldn’t be the worst idea to go. And besides, if Eunseok could move on so easily, why should you be the only one upset over everything?

“I’ll go,” You sighed, rolling up your bag of chips - much to the delight of Hana. She squealed at your agreement, telling you to get ready and that you’d head out in an hour. 

Once you were back in your room, rummaging through your closet for an outfit, you decided to send Sungchan a quick text.

[ to: sungchan :)

what is the statistic for if we’ll run into each other at this party?]

You set your phone aside as you got dressed, settling on a lacey cami top that tied at the front and jeans. You were in the middle of fixing up your make up when your phone buzzed to life.

[ from: sungchan :)

i’d say that there’s a high likelihood for it :) ]

When you got to the party later that night, you found that the frat house was just as musty as you remembered from a year ago. You leaned against one of the walls of the house, staring out at the crowd as you sipped on the bottle of beer you’d grabbed earlier. You’d been here for about an hour and that meant it had been exactly 47 minutes since Hana and Wonbin had slipped away to talk to their friends Anton and Sohee - both residents of this frat house. To Hana’s credit, she had urged you to join them but you had declined, letting her know you were just going to grab a drink and chill. 

Sungchan had texted you earlier, letting you know he was finishing up a study session and was going to head over with his roommate in a bit so you found yourself just waiting for him. 

It was maybe 15 minutes later that you were wishing he’d hurry up because as you caught sight of a familiar head of short, messy hair you felt your heart drop. Eunseok stood on the other side of the house, lips parted in laughter as he talked to one of his friends and had his arms wrapped around a girl you could only assume was his girlfriend. She looked familiar and when you really thought about it, you realized that she was the same girl you had seen him with on the day he rejected you. You took another swig of your drink, trying to look away from the couple but finding that you couldn’t.

God, this had to be like some stupid form of self-inflicted torture you thought. It only seemed to get worse though as Eunseok’s eyes drifted towards you. His brows raised in recognition and you sucked in a breath. Your hands suddenly felt clammy as you watched him excuse himself from the two and head towards you. The sound of the music blasting through the house dulled in comparison to the sound of your heart beat thumping in your ear.

Eunseok called your name once he was just a few feet in front of you, lips pulling into a hesitant smile. 

“Eunseok,” You nodded curtly, prying your eyes away from him and setting your sights instead on a group of guys pushing each other around not too far from where you were standing. 

“Can we talk?” He stepped closer to you, forcing your attention back on him. You swallowed thickly at the lack of distance between you.

“About what?” You feigned innocence, earning a frown from Eunseok. He spoke your name again, tone a bit more dejected this time and you met his frown with one of your own, “What is there to talk about Eunseok? You and I are done and from what I heard, it only took you a few weeks to find someone you actually cared about,” 

Eunseok winced at your words before letting out a sigh. 

“Look, can we just go somewhere private for a second?” He asked, eyes piercing into yours. You were hesitant, glancing around to see if you could spot Hana or Sungchan or anyone you knew for that matter and slip away. Eunseok seemed to catch onto your train of thought, grabbing onto your arm before you knew what was going on and hastily pulling you upstairs.

“What the hell are you doing?” You only came to your senses once he had ushered you into a random room, closing the door behind you, “You have a girlfriend. What if she saw us and misunderstood,”

“It’s fine,” Eunseok crossed his arms over his chest with a sigh, “There’s nothing going on here anyways,” 

You scoffed at his words, setting your bottle down on the desk that was pushed up against one of the walls, “You made that clear last time Eunseok. So what the fuck are you doing now?”

Eunseok’s brows furrowed at your words and the harsh tone with which they came out. You’d never spoken to him like that before, “Hey, there’s no reason to be mean,”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, disbelief clear in your voice, “You’re one to talk about being mean. Last I checked, you and I should be acting like we never met,” Eunseok let out an exasperated groan as he met your sharp glare. 

“You know I didn’t mean that,” He took a step closer to you and you met it with a step backwards. He froze, taking in a deep breath through his nose as he called your name again, his voice a little more gentle this time, “You know I cared about you,” 

Your lips trembled at his words and you shook your head, “That’s not what you said,” You voice became smaller as that night flashed before your eyes, “You asked me how I could even think that you cared about me,”

“I was caught off guard,” He tried to defend himself, “You told me you loved me and I never did anything to make it seem like I felt the same way while we were together,”

You felt a familiar lump forming in your throat at that, trying to swallow it down, “How can you say that?”

“Because,” Eunseok spoke with finality, “All we did was fuck. Yes we talked after and yes you would stay the night sometimes but we didn’t do much else outside of that. Even when we did hang out outside of that, it was because our roommates were dating each other. It was convenient ”

You stayed silent at his words, wondering how he could equate every moment, every conversation, every secret that you both shared with each other as just convenient.

“Look,” He continued, letting out a low breath, “People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you.”

Your lips pressed together tightly as you nodded at his words, feeling your chest tighten and your stomach churn with nerves.

“Can you please say something?” Eunseok’s voice was softer as he stared down at you. You sucked in a breath, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before you looked back up at him.

“Fine,” You cursed at the shakiness in your voice, “What does she have that I don’t” 

Eunseok’s face morphed into surprise at your words, lips parting but no words coming out.

“Come on Eunseok,” You laughed, the noise sounding pathetic in your own ears as you pressed a hand down against the desk, “You wanted to talk about this right? So tell me,”

Eunseok sighed out your name again, bringing a hand down his face, “Don’t be like this,”

“No,” You shook your head, feeling all the pain and anger bubbling to the surface, “Why don’t you follow your own advice? Don’t act like we’re friends right now and don’t try to talk me down just to make yourself better. The only reason we’re having this conversation right now is because you know you did something wrong and you feel bad. Don’t expect me to make you feel better about it when you already found another girl,” 

Eunseok’s jaw clenched, “You found someone else too. What? Are you going to act like you didn’t throw yourself at Sungchan right after we ended things?” 

Your blood boiled at his accusation, “He’s just a friend, not that that’s any of your business anyways,” Your eyes narrowed as Eunseok let out a laugh of disbelief. His tongue pushed against his cheek as he shook his head.

“Yeah, because friends kiss right?” He tilted his head to the side with a huff.

You scoffed in response, head dropping for a moment as you started to wish you had just stayed home, “Well, according to you, we were just friends and we did a lot more than just kiss Eunseok,”

Eunseok was quiet for a moment before clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “I didn’t realize you were so easy,”

Your mouth dropped at his words, a huff escaping your lips as you stared at the man you suddenly felt was a stranger to you. The Eunseok you knew, or that you thought you knew, would never have spoken to you like this. As you registered the lack of remorse on his face you were settling with the fact that whatever you thought you had with him was completely gone.

“You know what,” You spat, ignoring your budding nerves, before making a move to leave, “I hope you two are very happy together and I hope you and I never have to speak again,” You shoved your shoulder against his as you walked past him and out the door. Your breaths came out rapidly as you scurried down the hall, trying to put space between you and that room. You felt lightheaded and the amount of bodies in this house didn’t help with your need to breathe. You shoved past everyone you came in contact with, mumbling out a series of apologies as the room seemed to spin and the music playing seemed to get muffled. It was only when you felt a hand grabbing onto your arm and heard the sound of a familiar voice yelling your name that everything seemed to suddenly clear. Your breathing was still off, the air feeling too stuffy, but as your eyes met Sungchan’s it was like everything else was clearing in that moment.

“Hey!” He smiled widely as he didn’t seem to notice your turmoil, “I was looking for you. I texted you I was here earlier,”

“Sorry about that,” You forced a smile back at him, willing yourself to shake away your nerves, “I didn’t realize,”

“That’s okay,” Sungchan, ever so sweet, just gave you another grin before gesturing to the boy next to him, “This is my roommate by the way. Shotaro,” The shorter boy gave you a quick wave in greeting and a small Yo. You met his wave, telling him your name with a nod.

“Have you been here long?” Sungchan asked but before you could respond you were flinching at the sight of two boys jumping onto Sungchan and Shotaro, their arms falling around their shoulders.

“You guys made it!” The shorter of the new duo cheered.

“I thought we’d never catch you both at a party this year,” The taller one laughed, his voice softer than you would have imagined for a guy his size. He seemed to notice your presence before his friend, giving you a quick apology before introducing himself as Anton. The other boy followed his lead and you found that his name was Sohee. You remembered their names from Hana and Wonbin, finally able to put their faces to the titles.

You gave them a small nod, telling them your name before letting them know you were Wonbin’s girlfriend’s roommate. The two seemed excited enough to hear that before floating the idea that you should all take a shot together. When you had declined, they let out little whines of protest but didn’t push you to join them again. Sungchan, following your lead, declined as well and the boys seemed to protest more vehemently at that but when Sungchan stood firm, they simply booed before dragging Shotaro away from you both.

“They seem…excitable,” You laughed, the absurdity of the last few minutes almost making you forget about your conversation with Eunseok from a few moments ago. Sungchan shook his head at your words, smile still gracing his lips

“You’d think but Anton’s actually quite shy. He just gets giggly when he’s had some drinks in him” He glanced back down at you, brow raising at how your shoulders sat tense and your hands were clasped together. 

“You okay?” He rested a hand against your back, thumb pressing against your shoulder to help you bring them down. While you tried to feign ignorance, the way your brows pinched together for a second had tipped you off. Still, you tried your luck.

“Yeah,” You shook your head, hands dusting down the sides of your top, “I actually was about to head out. I’m a bit tired and-”

“You’re lying,” Sungchan was blunt but his tone wasn’t harsh. You hesitantly met his eyes and you weren’t sure if the way he looked so much like cared about what you had to say was making you feel better or worse, “Did something happen?”

You stayed quiet for a moment before shaking your head. 

“I don’t want to ruin your night,” You swallowed, “I feel like every time I see you I’m always on the verge of tears,”

Sungchan’s expression softened at that, “You didn’t cry last time,” You knew that his words were an attempt to make you feel better but for some reason, they just made you want to cry more. 

“I’m sorry Sungchan. I think I’m just going to head home,” You mustered up a smile but Sungchan could only frown back at you. He was silent for a beat before shaking his head.

“No, let’s go to my dorm,” He took hold of your hand gently, giving you enough room to pull away if you really didn’t want to be in his company. When you didn’t though, he gave your hand a quick squeeze and moved to pull you through the crowd. On the way out, he stopped for a moment and turned to face you. He leaned down, whisper-shouting how he’d be right back before disappearing amongst the groups of people. A few minutes later, you saw his head poking out over the crowd as he lifted a bottle of vodka that he had swiped. You raised a brow at him as he took hold of your hand again and pulled you outside into the cool air and towards his house that sat on the other end of the courtyard.

“What is the bottle for?” You asked as his hand shifted so that his fingers could link with yours.

Sungchan shrugged in response as his attention laid on the path in front of you, “Sometimes people feel better when they drink,”

“Is that another statistic?” Sungchan looked over his shoulder at your question before shaking his head.

“Nah,” His nose scrunched as he spoke, “Just speaking from experience,”

An hour later, you found yourself sitting on Sungchan’s bed while he sat at his desk, body slouched back against the wooden chair and his legs spread as he took another shot of alcohol. You found that his words were, in fact, right. You were feeling better already as your body buzzed with warmth and as Sungchan held out a shot glass towards you, you let yourself take it and get closer to that feeling. You grimaced at the taste and the way it burned going down your throat. Sungchan giggled at the sight and your eyes flitted towards his. His t-shirt was loose around his frame, collar laying in a way that showed the flush of pink skin below. He had opted to change out of the jeans he’d been wearing at the party and into a pair of sweat that rested low on his hips. 

And then there were those glasses. 

You wondered if Sungchan knew just how cute he looked when those sat perched on the bridge of his nose. 

“So,” He huffed as he sat up a bit, stretching out his arms with a tiny whiny, “Do you want to talk about it,” He blinked at you, face patient as you fidgeted in your spot. Your eyes dropped to your hands as your fingers circled each other. 

“You first,” You shook your head, earning a confused hum from Sungchan as he gestured for you to elaborate, “You said alcohol makes people feel better and that you were speaking from experience,” 

He let out a small Ah at your words, eyes widening with understanding. You watched him curiously as his fingers tapped against his thighs before he was standing, the vodka bottle left behind. It was probably for good reason too; You both had taken quite a few shots in the last hour. He gestured for you to scoot over, which you did, allowing him to situate himself next to you. His shoulder lightly bumped yours as he crossed his arms over his chest and let his head fall back against the wall behind you both.

“I got cheated on last year by a girl I’d been with since freshman year,” You sucked in a breath at the sudden revelation, listening to him as he opened up about his last relationship. He’d met the girl during welcome week and they’d both really hit it off, going on a couple of dates that same year before he’d asked her out. Things had been going well up until last year when Sungchan had gotten busier as he took on research opportunities and volunteering. His girlfriend seemed to think that he was cheating on her every time he told her he was busy. They’d argued about that point for months and after every argument, things would get better until they'd fall back into the same hole again. Then one night, he’d gone to her place after a lab class - after her roommate had texted him to come over -  and he had caught her cheating on him with a mutual friend.

“I got really drunk a couple of times after that,” Sungchan shook his head, “Shotaro was not happy one of the times because I had thrown up on a pair of shoes he’d just gotten,”

“And that made you feel better?” You raised a brow, your words making Sungchan laugh a little. 

“You know, not on that night,” He looked over at you and from how close he was, you could see just how pink his cheeks had gotten, “Shotaro was really mad at me,”

“I bet,” You snickered, knocking your knee with his. He mimicked your action before letting out a huff of air.

“Okay,” His eyes stayed trained on yours, “Your turn,” He watched carefully as your lips pursed together, the memory of earlier events running through your head. He listened intently as you told him how Eunseok had found you at the party and how he had pulled you into a room to talk. His lips set into a frown as you told him the words exchanged between the two of you and his eyes widened as you told him how you’d gone off on Eunseok before he’d brought up Sungchan and insulted you, resulting in you rushing out before Sungchan found you. 

“Huh,” Sungchan’s shoulders slumped as a light laugh, one that held no real humor, left his lips, “I guess I had perfect timing,”

You nodded at that, thinking back to how you’d run into him tonight and all the other times, “You know you really do have a knack for showing up when I really need someone,”

Sungchan’s eyes crinkled in triumph at that, “I guess I’m like your guardian angel,” You snickered at his comment before a comfortable silence settled between you. Your eyes traveled around Sungchan’s side of the room as you both sat there. He had some posters hung up, mostly of soccer teams you assumed he liked, and a cork board that had a few pictures of him and his friends pinned on it alongside some sticky notes that were scribbled with reminders. His desk was messy, mostly taken up by stacked textbooks and piles of notes.

“You know I’m proud of how you handled that,” Sungchan’s voice pulled your attention back to him. He bumped his shoulder against yours as he looked forwards, “Don’t know if that means much since we’ve only known each other for like a month but I am. I’m glad you stood up for yourself and I don’t think you're anything like what Eunseok said to you,”

You blinked up at Sungchan, lips wobbling just a little as his words settled in. You were really trying not to cry tonight but the combination of the alcohol and Sungchan’s kind words were making that really difficult and soon enough you felt the first tear slip through. The man hadn’t even realized that you had started crying until he heard you sniffle. His head whipped towards you, eyes wide.

“Hey,” His body turned to face yours, hands coming up to cup your face. His thumbs swiped against your cheeks, gently brushing away your tears, “It’s okay,” You nodded at his words, blinking up at him through wet lashes as you took a wobbly breath.

“I know,” You spoke softly, bringing one of your hands up to cover his, “I just really needed to hear that,” Sungchan smiled down at you, a sigh of relief leaving his body as his eyes roamed over your face. It was only for a second but you felt the air between you shift as his eyes dropped to your lips. You’d caught the movement almost instantly and as his eyes moved back up to meet yours, he knew you had too. No words were exchanged between you as your hand slowly brought his down to your waist, just beneath the loose fabric of your top. His fingers flexed against the warmth of your skin, his other hand following suit as you shifted towards him. He helped you move atop his hips, breath stuttering as your weight settled against his body. Your hands came up to rest against his shirt, fingers splaying against the soft fabric. Your chest rose and fell with nervous, charged breaths as you stared down at Sungchan. His eyes roamed over your body above his and the expanse of your skin. He couldn’t help the quiet whine that left his lips at the sight of your hips pressing down against his and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the sound. You slowly rocked your hips forward in an experimental movement, feeling your chest stir as Sungchan bit back a groan, his eyes shutting closed and head falling backwards with a thump. His fingers tightened their hold on you, keeping you in place as he peeled his eyes open and peered at you from behind his glasses. Everything felt hot and you weren’t sure how much of that was because of the alcohol and how much was because of Sungchan. All you did know was that your body was buzzing as he continued to look at you as if you were the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen. One of his hands slid up the side of your body, fingertips memorizing the curve of your body before they found their place against your cheek. You swallowed as he leaned forward, the space between your lips disappearing until you felt his breath fanning against your skin. You could hear your heart beat in your ears as his eyes flickered up to yours for a second, silently asking for permission to kiss you. You only answered by leaning closer to him, nose brushing against his. His lips were just about to press against yours, barely a few millimeters apart when you heard the tell tale sound of keys jingling against the room’s door. 

It was instant the way you both came back to your senses, heads whipping towards the door and then back to each other before you were scrambling apart. You launched yourself off of the bed, settling quickly into the chair Sungchan sat in earlier while he pat down his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. 

Shotaro emerged into your room a moment later, stopping in his tracks as he caught sight of you.

“Oh hey,” He offered you a quick wave before looking over at his roommate with a brow raised in question.

“Uh..” Sungchan cleared his throat, “She wasn’t feeling very well,” Despite the lame excuse, Shotaro seemed to buy it, snorting as he mumbled how Sungchan should have been the one on the wooden chair and you in the bed.

“Chivalry is dead,” He shook his head as he set his wallet and keys down on his desk before turning to you, “So are you staying the night?” Your face burned at the question even though you know Shotaro’s words didn’t hold any assumptions or intentions.

You quickly shook your head, standing up and frowning as you felt the rush of alcohol in your veins. This was really a horrible time for the vodka to hit. Sungchan sat up at the sight of your wobbly stance but you sent him a warning glance before turning back to Shotaro, “My roommate’s probably still at the party. I’m just going to ask her to take me home. It was nice meeting you Shotaro,” You turned back to Sungchan, breath caught as your brain scrambled for something to say to him as you stood there, still feeling the ghost of his fingers on your waist, “I’ll see you later Sungchan,”

Before the boy could even say anything, you were making a beeline for the door.

Your thoughts were askew, adrenaline pumping through your body as you trudged outside, hasty fingers pulling up Hana’s contact on your phone as you called her to let her know you needed to go home. 

You barely registered Sungchan’s name popping up on your phone after you ended your call, agreeing to meet Hana outside of the party house.

[ from: sungchan :)

please let me know when you get home ]

-

-

You tried to avoid Sungchan after that night, feeling so unbelievably embarrassed by your actions that you had even screamed into your pillow the next morning. It probably wasn’t your best idea as Hana and Wonbin, who had spent the night, burst into your room with pans in hand and they thought someone had broken in.

Unfortunately for you, your efforts to steer clear of the man were for naught. It only took five days for you to come face to face with Sungchan on the one day that you had finally decided to go to the gym. You had specifically gone at a different time from when you’d run into him at the grocery store, having thought of the possibility of him being there. That didn’t seem to matter though as he still showed up.

The whole interaction was awkward. You offered him a stiff wave and he mirrored your movement. 

“Hey,” You sucked in a breath as you gripped your water bottle tightly. 

“Hey,” Sungchan gave you a clumsy smile, “How are you?” 

“I’m good,” You nodded, blinking up at him ,”You?”

“Also good,” He replied, swallowing down the awkward air.

“Great,” You pursed your lips together, only able to stand there for one more second before you were excusing yourself with the notion that you had to finish your workout.

It was safe to say that you did not go back to the gym after that but still, you managed to run into Sungchan again two days later. This time, he was the one to approach you. 

You had been studying at a cafe on campus during a break you had between two of your classes. It was the lunch rush at this time so you always made sure to dash to the cafe after your first class to grab a table before they filled up. It was routine for you and you hadn’t expected Sungchan to show up since he never had before. This day, however, you found yourself dumbstruck as he slunk into the seat across from you as you reviewed one of your lectures. He offered you a boyish grin in greeting, asking if it was okay for him to join you. You could only nod in response before watching as he pulled out his laptop. 

It was weird at first but neither Sungchan nor you mentioned what had happened in his room the night of the party. Instead, Sungchan had brought up another random statistic he’d learned recently - something about how 11% of people are left handed. You raised a brow at his segway to a conversation and Sungchan only met your inquisitive star with his own hopeful one. His expression only brightened as you took the bite, asking if he knew anyone who was left handed. From there it was like an unspoken agreement that you weren’t going to talk about what happened.

Months passed like that with unplanned run-ins and ignored feelings. Whether it was at the library, the campus bookstore, or even one time at a comedy show that Hana dragged you to, Sungchan would somehow spawn like magic. 

You felt the charge in the air every time you were with him. It was unlike what you felt with Eunseok. With him, it didn’t feel like this. It didn’t feel like the air would get thicker when you were around him, it didn’t feel like your heart was going to thump so hard that you were scared it would beat right out your chest, it didn’t feel like you could melt from the warmth that tingled down your skin. 

It didn’t feel so all encompassing. 

If you weren’t so scared to admit it, you’d say that you were falling for Sungchan. 

You couldn't do that though. You hammered it in that this time you two were just friends and you didn’t dare to cross the line with any assumptions even when Sungchan would look at you with a smile so fond that your breath would stutter or when he’d help you prep for your classroom practicals with such care that you couldn’t believe someone could be so attentive or even when he’d adjusted the passenger seat of his car so that it was set to your preferences.

Sungchan was just a really nice friend - you told yourself that even if you didn’t believe it.

So, when the opportunity to be a really nice friend to him presented itself to you, you were taking it without a second thought. Shotaro had reached out to you with a proposition of a surprise party for Sungchan after he had been accepted to medical school. You had already congratulated the boy privately when he’d told you himself, having practically jumped him with joy when he dropped the news on you one night at the library. You had been shushed by several students to the point where you had to end your study session early so you could pull Sungchan outside and engulf him in a tight hug. Your arms had wrapped themselves around his shoulders as you squealed in his ear. Sungchan could only laugh with mirth as his own arms placed themselves around your waist and his face buried itself against your shoulder. You remembered giggling at the feeling of his hair tickling your skin before pulling away to tell him how proud you were of him. His face was struck with awe as he stared down at you that night before he had pulled you in for another hug, gently rocking your bodies back and forth.

With this party now, however, you and Shotaro wanted Sungchan to be able to be celebrated by all of his friends. So, that’s how you found your apartment filled with a bunch of people that you didn’t know well but who knew Sungchan well enough - at least per Shotaro. 

When you looked around, you only recognized a handful of people. Anton and Sohee stood in your kitchen, munching on some of the snacks you’d set up on the kitchen counter. They were talking with Seunghan, Sungchan’s physiology lab partner that you’d met a few times when you’d met up at the library. Then in the living room sat Wonbin, Hana, Eunseok, and Shotaro. Despite your great distaste for Eunseok, you hadn’t barred Shotaro from inviting him - mostly because no one besides Sungchan knew what had happened between you but also because he was still, somewhat, Sungchan’s friend. From what Sungchan had told you before, the two had been regular gym buddies after they met back during freshman year. It wasn’t like he could just ice him out either when their friend group mixed so much.

You told yourself you were mature enough to face him for Sungchan’s sake and as he sat in your living room, you were really believing it as not a single pang was felt in your chest at the sight of him. Still, you couldn’t help greeting him with a frown before promptly ignoring him for the rest of the night - an action that raised eyebrows from Hana and Wonbin.

Around the rest of your apartment, small clusters of people were scattered, waiting for Sungchan to arrive. You had texted the boy that you needed him to help you change a ceiling light that maintenance had been neglecting and he was supposed to arrive at 7PM. Currently, it was 6:58PM so he was expected at any minute.

You were in the middle of a conversation with one of Sungchan’s soccer buddies, Taeyong, who you’d met only minutes earlier when your doorbell rang. Shushes filled the space as everyone clamored into positions, crouching onto the ground as you flipped the lights off, hiding them from view.

You opened the door slowly, a smile tugging onto your lips as the image of Sungchan and his signature glasses came into view. He met your smile with one of his own before looking behind you at the darkness with surprise. 

“Wow,” He entered your apartment, letting his eyes adjust to the dark for a moment as you closed the door behind him, “You weren’t kidding when you said they were neglecting your lights. You could only giggle at his words, missing the sight of Sungchan’s brows rising in confusion. He had expected you to be more frustrated in this situation.

His confusion only grew when you flipped the lights on and he was met with the sight of an apartment full of people. In another second, every person jumped to their feet, yelling out a loud chorus of Surprise! 

Sungchan turned to you, bewilderment still written on his face, “It’s not my birthday. You know that right?”

“I know,” You rolled your eyes, “Shotaro and I planned this since you got into medical school,” At that, Sungchan’s eyes sparkled in understanding and his lips slit into a blinding grin.

“Really?” He glanced at you before turning towards the group of his friends.

Sohee was the first to speak up, “I’ll be expecting some free check-ups in the future Dr. Jung,” After that, it was one congratulations after another as Sungchan was pulled into countless conversations. You grinned at the sight of him, letting yourself slink off  to the living room to sit with Hana and Wonbin who were conversing about their weekend plans. Eunseok had disappeared from your line of sight at some point too - to your delight - probably mingling with some of the others around.

An hour had to have passed before you realized you didn’t have your phone on you. You must have left it in your room and moved to go grab it, but not before your eyes caught Sungchan’s. He perked up as he tried to wave you over to him from across the room. You mouthed that you would be right back and although a pout made its way onto his lips, he was sending you a nod. You snickered at his mannerisms before heading into your room, quickly finding your phone before you went back out to the party. Sungchan wasn’t at the same spot you’d seen him just a moment prior, instead having moved to the kitchen where Shotaro was pouring him and a few others a round of shots.  

You decided to let him have the moment with his friends instead of joining him. You were sure to run into him again tonight at some point. It was a small apartment after all. 

For some reason though, the stars weren’t lining up. Despite you and Sungchan running into each other randomly for months, you somehow couldn’t find a single moment with him now as he kept getting swept up. His eyes would meet yours every now and then and you had to hold back your laughter every time he sent you a look that just screamed help me when he’d get roped into another shot by his friends. 

By the time the clock had struck 11PM, some people had started to go home and it was only as you were starting to be able to count the heads in the apartment that Sungchan was finally finding you. You were in the middle of a heated conversation with Sohee about which Justin Bieber song was the best when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. 

“I’m going to steal her for a bit if you don’t mind,” Sungchan didn’t even wait to hear if Sohee did mind as he started to drag you away, pulling you past the people in your apartment and out the front door. 

You looked at Sungchan in confusion as you two now stood outside in the hallway.

“What are we doing?” You watched him curiously as he stared down at you, bringing a hand up to smooth down the ends of his messy hair.

“I wanted to tell you a statistic,” He shrugged and you couldn’t help but snort in response before gesturing for him to continue. He sucked in a sharp breath as he clapped his hands together and you jumped at the loud sound. He mumbled a sheepish sorry before clearing his throat, “Did you know that research shows that some people can develop romantic feelings for someone within 3 to 4 months?”

“Oh,” You nodded at the fact, “That's a cool one. I think I might like the ocean one you told me the other day better though,”

Sungchan jerked his head in surprise, obviously not expecting that response from you, “The one about 50-80% of Earth’s organisms residing in the ocean?” You nodded and Sungchan couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose, “Okay, but this one’s a really good one too,”

Your brows furrowed at his sudden insistence, “I mean I guess?”

“Yeah and you know,” You watched as Sungchan’s hand tapped against his side nervously, “We’ve been friends for longer than that,”

“Yeah?” You questioned, unsure where Sungchan was going with this.

He gave you an exasperated look, shoulders slumping as you were missing his point completely, “You can’t be serious right now,” He let out a huff of breath, hands coming to his hips as his head fell back so he could look up at the ceiling. When he lifted his head again, you found that his face was dusted with an unmistakable shade of pink and his lips were pressed into a nervous line. 

“I like you” 

You froze at his sudden proclamation, lips parting in shock as your eyes searched for any indication he was messing with you. As he met your stare with a determined look, you settled on the notion that he was serious. Still you found yourself struck with silence, brain struggling to come up with any reply to his words.

Sungchan’s face fell at your lack of response and from the look on his face, you knew he was assuming the worst. 

“Look,” His eyes dropped to the ground, “I know you think we aren’t right for each other, but we’ve run into each other too many times for you to tell me that this isn’t fate. And I don’t think I can pretend anymore that I don’t have feelings for you,” Heat creeped up your cheeks as he continued to ramble, “I know we didn’t meet on the best of terms and that maybe you’re still getting over the whole thing with Eunseok but I really don’t know how much longer I can keep from kissing you when you’re next to me,”

Silence hung in the air between you as you processed everything he had just said.

“Say something,” He frowned as you just stood there. 

“I..” You swallowed, mind running with a million thoughts “I don’t know what to say,”

It was the truth. You really hadn’t expected this from Sungchan but you couldn’t say that you hadn’t hoped he felt this way at some point in the last few months.

Sungchan’s face fell as your words settled and he gave you a quick nod, “Right,”

“Wait, Sungcha-” You felt panic as he started to come to the wrong conclusion, one where you didn’t feel the same.

“No,” He was quick to shake his head, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you,”

“No, that’s no-” 

He cut you off again, much to your frustration, “I’m just going to go. Thank you for the party,” You stood dumbfounded as he brushed past you, giving you no time to clear up this massive misunderstanding as he disappeared around the corner. 

-

-

[ to: sungchan :)

i’m going to drop off your hoodie]

You’d texted Sungchan at 1 in the morning, long after all the partygoers had gone home. You sighed as you recalled your very awkward excuse from before as to why Sungchan had gone home early from his own party. You’d told everyone that he had stomach issues and had a problem using other people’s bathrooms. You weren’t sure how many people believed you considering they all knew Sungchan longer than you had and probably would have noticed if he truly had a problem like that. If anyone did think you were full of it, they didn’t say anything. You did notice the wild look of bewilderment on Shotaro’s face though. 

That really didn’t matter now though as you trudged over to Sungchan’s dorm, his hoodie draped over your figure. Your phone buzzed to life as you walked through the start of Sungchan’s housing community.

[ from: sungchan :)

keep it 

i gave it to you]

You rolled your eyes at his response.

[ to: sungchan :)

i’m in the courtyard ]

You sighed as you made your way into the courtyard, stopping only as you reached the corner closest to the Biology House. It took only another minute for Sungchan to reply

[ from: sungchan :)

i’m not coming outside ]

You frowned at your screen, rereading his text before sending one back

[ to: sungchan :)

crime is high on college campuses sungchan

what if i get robbed ]

His reply was instant. 

[ from: sungchan :)

i’m coming ]

You smiled triumphantly before pocketing your phone in the pocket of your jeans. Moments later, you caught sight of Sungchan emerging from his house. He was clad in an oversized black hoodie and matching sweats. You watched as he adjusted his glasses, squinting as he took in the sight of you. 

“Why are you wearing it?” He frowned, “I thought you were going to wash it first,”

You deadpanned at his words, unable to believe that of all things he could have said right now, that’s what he chose to say. When he came closer and you caught sight of his puffy eyes, however, your expression softened.

“I’m not giving it back,” You shook your head and Sungchan furrowed his brows in response. 

“You came all the way here to tell me that? After I just confessed to you?” He seemed to be full of disbelief and for a moment you swore you thought he was contemplating his feelings for you.

“No,” You shook your head, “I came here to tell you that you are an idiot,” You ignored the squawk of offense that rose from Sungchan’s throat, “You know if you’re going to be a doctor you really need to work on your communication and your critical thinking. You didn’t even give me a chance to respond back there,”

Sungchan’s brows furrowed together, “I swear there was literally a year’s worth of silence between us earlier,”

You frowned at that, lips pinching together, “I was shocked Sungchan and it’s not my fault you ran off,”

“About that,” Sungchan raised a finger as he recalled something Shotaro told him when he came home, “Did you really tell everyone I couldn’t use other people’s bathrooms?”

“Does that really matter right now?” You sighed. 

Sungchan was quiet for a beat before nodding, “A little bit, yeah,”

You shook your head, willing yourself to calm down before looking up at Sungchan, “You really are an idiot,” 

Before Sungchan could respond, your legs pushed yourself forward. You grabbed at the material of his hoodie, pulling him down to meet you as you leaned in so that your lips met his. You felt his body freeze against yours for a moment but it wasn’t long before Sungchan’s arms wrapped around your waist and he was kissing you back. You sighed against him, melting into his body as his soft lips met yours over and over again.Your chest buzzed with warmth as his hands slowly slid up your body before cradling your cheeks. He angled your head up, giving him better access to kiss you. You felt him smile against your lips before his tongue ran over your bottom lip but before the kiss could become too heated, you pulled away. You giggled as Sungchan chased your lips and you pressed your hand firmly against his chest to keep him back. You almost rethought your actions as he whined at the loss of contact but you had to make sure there were no misunderstandings first.

“Sungchan,” You panted, catching your breath as you tried to recall the statistic you had looked up before leaving your apartment, “Did you know that when you like some one, chemicals associated with the reward circuit flood your brain and that can make people experience racing hearts and flushed cheeks and sweaty palms?”

Sungchan smiled down at you, eyes crinkling in amusement, “Yeah?” His tone urged you to go on.

You nodded, pushing down your nerves with a laugh, “I think I’m feeling all of that right now,” 

Your words hung in the air for a moment before a squeal vibrated against your chest as Sungchan’s lips suddenly found yours again, this time moving slower as he took his time in memorizing the way you tasted and the way your body felt pressed up against his. He kissed you sweetly, lips slotting against yours perfectly as his hands gently held your face. You continued like that, savoring the feeling of his kiss until you had to pull away for air.

“For the record,” You panted, bringing one of your hands over his, “I never thought you weren’t right for me. I just…I was just scared you didn’t feel the same way and I didn’t want things to end up like they did with Eunseok,”

“God,” Sungchan groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. You giggled as his glasses knocked against your brows, “I don’t want to ever hear Eunseok’s name come out of your mouth after I kiss you,”

You snorted at that, “Whose name should I be saying then?”

Sungchan rolled his eyes at your comment before pressing another kiss to your lips, unable to resist when you were so close to him, “Obviously your boyfriend’s,”

“Didn’t realize I had a boyfriend,” You pulled back for a moment, a pout on your lips as Sungchan peered down at you with an unimpressed stare.

“You do now. It’s me,” You couldn’t help but smile as he kissed you once again, “And I will be for a long time,”

“Mhhm,” You sighed against his lips,  “Is that another statistic?”

You’d met Eunseok in some musty frat party your junior year of college. You hadn’t even wanted to go out that night but your roommate, Hana, was insistent on you joining her, giving you some excuse about how she needed moral support because it was the night she was going to hook up with some guy she had been talking to. Incidentally, said guy was best friends with Eunseok. You clearly remembered the moment that Hana had pulled you through the crowded party, yelling over the music that she had found Wonbin as she nodded in his direction. When your eyes landed on him, you had given Hana a sneaky smile bumping her shoulder as you whisper shouted about how he was cute. You’d barely caught the way her cheeks burned a bit brighter at your comment before you were looking back towards Wonbin but this time, your sights were landing on the guy standing next to him. His eyes were on you, staring back into your own as he raised the red glass of whatever he was drinking to his lips. You couldn’t help but let your eyes rake over him. He was wearing a pair of loose jeans that ripped at the knee and a black tank top that clung to his frame, giving you a perfect view of his tan skin and toned arms. His hair was cut short but mussed up at the top in a way that actually worked instead of making it look messy. When your gaze trailed back to his face, you found he was still staring back at you but this time he had a small smirk on his lips, having watched you blatantly check him out. You swallowed down the feeling of getting caught as you found yourself standing in front of him not seconds later.

“Wonbin!” Hana squealed as she threw her arms around the shorter boy’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. You heard the beginnings of a conversation between them and Hana’s laughter but couldn’t make out what the two were saying as you continued to just stare at Eunseok. To your defense, he was doing the same thing. It was his turn now to let his eyes drop over your appearance, over your body, in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. You watched the slow blink of his eyes before he was looking up at you again. Neither of you said a word at first until you heard Hana say something about being right back before she and Wonbin were slipping away.

“O-oh…. okay” Your words trailed off as they disappeared into the crowd, leaving you with the unfairly attractive stranger. You spared a glance back his way for just a moment to see if he was still watching you but his gaze seemed to follow the direction of your friends.

You heard him sigh before speaking up, “Seems like they’ve really hit it off, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering as you tried to look anywhere but at him, “I’m glad Hana found someone she really likes,”

He hummed in agreement at your words, “Wonbin seems to really like her too,”

You nodded at his words, still avoiding looking up at him. You weren’t sure why you were doing that given you both had just played the longest game of eye tag a moment prior. You were completely oblivious to Eunseok’s watchful eye and the sly smile that lit up his face at your sudden demure act.

“I’m Eunseok by the way,” It was with that that you were finally glancing back up at him, suddenly feeling rude that you hadn’t even introduced yourself. You gave him your name and a small nod.

“So, what about you?” Eunseok watched as your brows furrowed at his question, “You have anyone you like?”

“Uh, not really,” You shrugged moving to Eunseok’s side as you felt someone moving to get by behind you, “You know how a lot of college guys here are,”

Eunseok raised a brow at this, signaling for you to explain.

“You know,” You dragged the word out hoping he’d understand but the quizzical look on his face was telling you he didn’t. You sighed at this.

“A lot of guys here just want to fuck and dip but the funny part of that is that they aren’t even good at it,” Eunseok’s eyes widened just a fraction at this and you couldn’t help the laugh that came out in response.

“Is that something you can say from experience?” Eunseok tilted his head to the side.

You snickered, “You’re going to need to get a few drinks in me before I tell you about my failed sex life,” 

A breathy laugh left his lips before he nodded his head towards the kitchen and took hold of your hand without warning. He caught the surprised look on your face, leaning in so that you could feel his warm breath against your ear and smell the musk of his cologne, “Don’t want to lose a pretty girl like you in this crowd,”

Your heart stuttered at the low tone of his voice and your knees buckled as he pulled back with a wink.

You found that Eunseok was really easy to talk to, especially after a couple of drinks and a game of rage in the cage that you both had somehow gotten roped into playing. To Eunseok’s credit, he’d started drinking for you halfway through the game when he noticed you were looking a bit too drunk for comfort. To his fault, he did not realize that he had reached your level despite being able to hold his liquor better.

"At least we,” Your arm was hooked with his as you both stumbled out the front door for some air later that night, “At least we didn’t get the bitch cup,” 

Eunseok giggled at your words, head falling onto your shoulder so that his breath fanned over your skin and his hair tickled your neck. Even while drunk, it was enough to send a jolt through your body. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Eunseok raised his head to look up at you. He was close enough for you to see the way his lashes curled against his eyelids and a very prominent tint had made its way over his face. You sucked in a breath, holding his arm a bit tighter as the world around you continued to spin.

“Thanks,” You breathed out, trying to avoid looking at his lips as he grinned at you.

“So,” He took a wobbly step back, keeping his arm linked with yours, “Have you had enough drinks to tell me about your failed sex life now?” You rolled your eyes as his free hand came up to make air quotes.

“You seem quite curious,” You laughed as you tugged Eunseok forward so you could be free of the music that blasted through the front door. He followed your lead, letting his arm that was linked with yours snake around your waist as yours rested against his back.

You both found yourself in the courtyard that rested in the middle of all the dorm houses. It was an interesting layout really. There were frat houses, sororities, academic houses, and cultural houses all in the same housing area. You couldn’t even imagine living in the Biology house that sat across from one of the frat houses.

You had to admit though that as you sat down in the cool grass in the courtyard that this area was not that bad. You could even see the campus gym peeking out from behind one of the houses. You made a mental note to drop by there on one of the days where the building didn’t look like it was moving. 

Eunseok’s knee knocked against yours, pulling your attention back to the man next to you. You noted that his hair was more disheveled now but it still seemed to work in his favor.

“So spill,” He rested his palms in the grass behind him, letting his body lean back just slightly.

“You,” You knocked your knee back against his with a breathy laugh, “are persistent. There isn’t much to tell though,” You dropped your head between your knees, trying to ignore the way your head spun.

“I’ve talked to some guys. We had bad sex. Then they become mysteriously busy,”

Eunseok’s brows furrowed at this, “Like they didn’t make you come?”

You offered a nod in response, “I’m convinced the guys here are just challenged,” 

It was at this moment that you remembered that you had met Eunseok only because your two friends were into each other.

“I’m sure Wonbin is fine though,” You lifted your head to look over at Eunseok, “Hana really likes him,”

Eunseok couldn’t help but throw his head back in laughter at your words, regretting it almost instantly as he felt the rush from the alcohol you both had drank earlier. He didn’t let it show though as he leaned back against one of his arms and let his head loll forward. 

“Funny how you thought to defend my friend but not me,” He blinked slowly and while his tone was light, you felt the shift in the air. Your legs pressed together in a movement that Eunseok didn’t miss.

“Well,” You swallowed, “I don’t know you like that,”

“That’s fair,” Eunseok nodded with a sigh, “Do you want to though?”

You wondered if Eunseok was always this forward or if it was just the alcohol speaking.

“I…” You paused for a moment, taking in the sight of him under the glow of the light posts around the courtyard - messy hair, pink cheeks, pretty lips, and that fucking tank top, “I wouldn’t mind it,”

You definitely weren’t this forward without the alcohol.

Eunseok swallowed at your words, slowly pushing himself closer to you. Your heart was hammering in your chest as one of his hands snaked up your jaw before cupping your cheek. Your breaths were shallow as your eyes met his for what felt like the hundredth time that night and one of your hands moved to rest against his chest, fingers gently tugging at the fabric of his top.

“Is this okay?” Eunseok whispered, voice soft as he leaned in so that his breath mingled in with yours. You nodded in response as your gaze fell to his lips, wishing that he’d finally kiss you.

“Words baby,” He shook his head, “I need to hear you,”

You whined in response, earning a smile from Eunseok.

“Yes,” You nodded once more, meeting his eyes again, “Please kiss me,”

That was all it took for him to crash his lips against yours. He kissed you softly at first, testing the waters as he took in the feeling of your plush lips on his but the more he heard of your sighs and the more he felt your fingers tugging at his tank top, he felt himself wanting more. He shifted so that his body could move on top of yours, never letting your lips disconnect. You gasped at the feeling of the cold grass against your back and Eunseok took that opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. One of his hands tilted your face up giving him better access to kiss you while the other trailed down your body to rest against your waist. Your own hands found his hips, pulling him closer. He groaned at the feeling of your hips flush against his, pulling away for just a moment to glance down at your bodies pressed together before his eyes flitted back up to your face to find your dazed expression and swollen lips. 

“So pretty,” He mumbled before letting his lips find yours again. Your skin felt warm and you couldn’t be sure now if it was because of the alcohol or because of Eunseok but as his lips trailed away from yours and instead down your jaw and neck you were sure that each kiss was searing hot.

“Eunseok,” His name came out a whimper as he sucked on the column of your throat and let his tongue run over the splotches of red that appeared.

It was the sound of Eunseok’s phone ringing that forced you both to pull apart.

His brows furrowed as he sat up, chest heaving as he took in the sight of you panting below him before he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“What,” He answered harshly, frustration clear in his tone. You giggled at this and Eunseok glanced back down at you, expression a bit softer.

That is until your fingers slid into the belt loops of his jeans, gently tugging at the material. He sucked in a breath, listening to whoever was on the other line as his free hand came over yours, pulling your hand away before placing a kiss against your knuckles.

“That’s fine,” Eunseok spoke into his phone, “She can stay at ours,” 

With that, he hung up the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He let out of deep sigh as he stared down at you.

“The world still spinning for you?” He asked, bringing a hand back to your cheek before pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Not much more than earlier,” You shook your head, bringing your hand over his.

“Darn,” He grinned, kissing you again, “And here I was hoping my kisses would make you dizzy,”

You giggled against his lips, “Cocky much?” 

“Just trying to beat out these other lame guys,” He pressed a final kiss against your lips, pulling away to sit up again.

You moved to sit up too, prompting Eunseok to roll off you. As soon as you sat up you felt the dizziness again, “Looks like I spoke too soon,”

Eunseok chuckled as your hand reached for his arm to ground yourself, “Would you want to head to my place?”

You blinked at him, feeling your heart stutter at the proposition, “I-I would need to check with Hana. Don’t want her to worry,” 

“Wonbin was the one that called,” Eunseok tapped his fingers against his pocket, “They went back to your dorm for the night and uh…” 

“Oh,” You sucked in a breath, realizing that your options for the night were to go back to your dorm where your roommate was almost certainly having sex or go to Eunseok’s.

The decision was easy.

Eunseok didn’t live too far from the frat house and despite the alcohol still coursing through your veins, you managed to make it there in one piece. As each minute passed, you were feeling the effects of your drinks a bit more and the heat in your body from before lingered even as you stepped inside Eunseok’s apartment. 

He seemed to feel the same because as soon as you heard the door behind you click shut, his hands were finding your waist, turning your body around before pushing your back against the wall. 

You sucked in a breath as his lips ghosted over yours and his fingers pressed into your skin.

“Please tell me you’ll let me kiss you again,” He looked at you desperately.

“Eunseok,” Your hands ran up his stomach, feeling the flex of his abs before finding their way around his shoulders, pulling him closer so that you could feel the plush of his lips again, “I need you to do more than just kiss me,”

Everything happened so quickly from the way your clothes were strewn to the floor to the way Eunseok had you pressed into his bed underneath him.

One night turned into another, which turned into weeks, months, and almost a year of feverish kisses and roaming hands. You’d never put a label on what it was that the two of you were doing and you were content with that at first. Being with Eunseok was easy. There was no stress and no strings attached. 

You were just friends. 

You continued to tell yourself that after every night that Eunseok had your legs hooked around his waist as he pushed into you. You told yourself that after he would so gently  kiss your lips and pull you against him in the mornings. You told yourself that when he’d hold you close to him on the nights you were stressed about life and whisper that everything would be okay. You told yourself that when you’d lie awake after sex, talking to each other about your dreams in the quiet of his bedroom. 

You told yourself that even when you felt yourself falling for him but you weren’t sure if you believed yourself.

It was a little over a year after you’d met Eunseok that you were accepting the fact that you were in love with the man. You were almost positive that he felt the same way. The way that he looked at you, his stares always lingering just a second too long to remain friendly, told you so. 

You’d never worked up the courage to do anything about it though - never felt brave enough to ask him if he felt the same.

Until a random night senior year. 

You’d seen Eunseok that day on campus with another girl and while you tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest, you couldn’t when you saw him lean in to hear something she was saying and break into a fit of laughter. His eyes shone brightly when he spoke to her and you couldn’t help but notice the way his knees kept knocking against hers. 

You shouldn’t have been jealous. There was no reason to be. 

You and Eunseok were just friends.

You kept trying to tell yourself that even when he texted you later that night, asking you to come over. 

It was like every night when you’d showed up at his door later. His lips were on yours instantly when the door behind you was shut. He mumbled something about Wonbin being out for the night as he kissed down your neck and collarbones. You sighed as he pressed his hips against yours, grinding against your body in a way that sent a jolt between your legs. 

“Eunseok,” You whimpered his name, hands finding purchase in his hair as you pulled him closer. Eunseok chuckled against your skin before pulling back to get a good look at you. 

“Barely started and you're already a mess,” He grinned down at you and you felt your heart stop. The way he looked now was exactly the way he’d looked earlier on campus. 

Eunseok noticed the change in your expression immediately, his own brows furrowing together in confusion and concern, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” You shook your head, trying to will away the invasive thoughts that screamed at you to tell him you loved him, “It’s nothing,”

Eunseok frowned at this, “It’s obviously not nothing baby. You look almost spooked,”

“Eunseok, I’m fine,” You tried to reason but with the way Eunseok was staring you down, you knew he didn’t believe you.

“You know you can tell me anything right?” He frowned as he brought a hand up to cup your cheek. You sighed at the feeling of his thumb running over your skin.

“I know…I just..” You pursed your lips together, eyes dropping from his to the floor.

“Hey,” Eunseok tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him again, “Talk to me,”

He looked at you with so much care you felt like you could cry and as you felt the tears well up in your eyes, you thought you just might. 

“Eunseok,” You took in a deep breath, “What are we doing here?”

“What?” Eunseok blinked down at you, confusion written in his expression.

“This,” You motioned between the two of you, “Friends don’t do this,” You nerves stood on end as Eunseok’s hand left your body and he took a step back.

“What are you saying?” His words were suddenly guarded, brows knitting together.

“I’m saying,” Your hands curled into fists before opening up again, “I’m saying that I’m in love with you,”

He met your words with silence and with each second that passed you felt like the ground below might swallow you whole. 

“I…” Eunseok swallowed, “What do you want me to say to that?” 

Your stomach dropped as he looked at you with a guarded expression, his words telling you more than enough on how he saw you. 

You should have left things at that. You should have walked out and salvaged what you could have of your relationship.

Instead, however, you kept talking.

“Do you not feel the same?”

“What made you think I cared for you?”

As soon as the words left Eunseok’s lips, you felt heat rise up your neck and your mouth ran dry. Eunseok, to his credit, seemed just as shocked by the words that left his lips.

“Fuck, that’s not what I meant,” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I just- I don’t see you that way,”

“I see,” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, “Then what was all of this Eunseok?”

“What?” He asked, taken aback as you questioned him again, “It was obviously just fun,”

You sucked in a breath at his words, “I was just fun to you?”

“We were just messing around,” Eunseok shook his head, eyes scanning the distress on your face, “What made you think I felt that way towards you?”

“I don’t know Eunseok,” You felt your voice get louder as tears welled in your eyes, “Maybe it’s the way you act towards me. Friends don’t fuck and then talk about their life goals after. Friends don't hold each other the way you held me, okay? Friends definitely don’t do everything we’ve been doing. This wasn’t just sex,”

Eunseok watched you with a stunned expression, “I don’t know what you want me to say. To me it was just sex and you telling me you loved me, quite frankly, is making me kind of uncomfortable,”  You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, bringing a hand to run through your hair.

“You’re joking right?” You stared at him, hoping to find something in his face that said he was lying. When you found nothing, you felt your heart shatter, “I was just sex to you?”

Eunseok sighed softly before speaking your name with the same tone, “It’s not my fault you thought this was more than it was. I never tried to make it seem like I loved you. You never should have felt that way,”

You were dumbfounded by his words.

“I never should have felt this way?” You posed it as a question, unable to hold back the scoff that left your lips, “Eunseok, I didn’t just choose to fall in love with you,”

Your heart panged as Eunseok met your eyes with an unreadable stare, like he didn’t care that you were about to cry in front of him. He just shook his head again, licking his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. 

“Well you shouldn’t have,” His voice raised, tone harsh as cold eyes opened to look back at you, “If you were going to do this I just think it would have been best if we never met.”

Silence filled the air as you felt the weight of his words sink in between you. Your heart beat rapidly, the sound of blood rushing filling your ears. Your hands shook as you processed what he just said. Your eyes pried themselves from his and landed on the ground, unable to look at him any longer. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying until the first tear drop fell against the wood floor below. 

Eunseok spoke your name, slight panic in his tone as he took a step towards you.

“N-no,” You shook your head, holding your hands up to try and keep space between you, “You’re right,” Your lips trembled as you forced yourself to look back up at him one more time. Eunseok sucked in a breath as he took in your pained expression.

“Since I’m obviously such a…a nuisance to you, I’ll just go,” You nodded curtly, trying to force the growing lump in the back of your throat back down.

“No,” Eunseok reached out for you but you were quick to dodge his touch, body jerking towards the door. He froze at that, only able to look in shock as you put distance between the two of you, “Wait, please,”

“You won’t have to worry about me, okay?” Your words were shaky as you ignored his plea and you mentally cursed yourself for sounding so weak, “It’ll be like we never met. Just like you wanted,”

Before Eunseok could try and stop you again, you were grabbing the doorknob, prying the door open before rushing out. Your steps were frantic as you left his apartment complex and made your way out into the cold night. Your legs carried you aimlessly as you held your cries back, legs burning as you tried to get as far away from Eunseok’s place as you could.