she&her

before you can properly position yourself above him he’s forcing you stationary with a hand on your hip.

you barely manage to whine in protest before anton’s chuckling beneath you, causing your own figure to vibrate in the process.

“relax, i just wanna see what all the hype is about.” he taunts, voice barely meeting your ears as he forces the smirk off his lips to match yours in a pout.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but that only lasts a split section.

when the crown of your head is met with the same charcoal colored polyester that got you in this position to begin with, you immediately understand what he’s getting at.

now instead of him, it’s you, sporting the black fitted cap on your head. it doesn’t fit you as well as it fits anton and you admit you feel ridiculous under his gaze. but you manage.

the final stamp of possession is embroidered near your right temple in cursive.

‘Anton Lee’

the visual forces another white-hot spurt from the tip of your boyfriend’s cock onto the exposed skin of your inner thighs.

“this getting you off?” you question, voice low in volume whilst you mindlessly secure the hat on yourself until. as soon as rests comfortably you tilt your head as if to ask “good enough?”

“didn’t you start this?”

before anton can tease your any further your hand is between your legs once again.

you don’t even bother pulling your his pants or underwear down fully, looking to save as much time as possible.

the contrast of anton’s angry pleaser between your thighs has you swallowing hard and praying he won’t take note of the way drool pools in your mouth.

he’s big enough to basically cast a shadow onto your front, easily reaching above your belly button in “height” with the way you’re currently positioned.

your skin runs molten, a mixture of vulnerability and the lack of space between the two of you.

eagerly forcing the crotch of your panties to the side you hiss at the first drag of his cock through your messy folds.

“all this…for me?” anton whispers, clearly referring to the way your cunt is leaking on his cock, the evidence reflected in the minuscule amount of light your bedside lamp provides.

growing shy you opt for a nod, whimpering as you buck your hips once more. his tip, heavy and oozing pearl colored beads, nudges your clit and you twitch.

in one singular motion you guide the entirety of anton inside, wrongfully holding your breath once he’s buried to the hilt.

the burn is familiar, and it only tempts you more.

“y–you’re—shit—so big, ton.” you whine, attempting to catch your breath and adjust to the stretch.

“yeah? you can take it, princess.” anton pants, anchoring both his hands at your hips, almost insisting you start to move. “my pretty girl can take it all.”

the fullness is nauseating—in the best way. anton’s cock admittedly had ruined sex with anybody else for you the moment you fucked him for the first time.

but clearly you had no complaints.

you couldn’t help but fall addicted to the demand that taking all of him called for. pressure from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

and you’d do it time and time again with no regrets.

the first lift of your hips is sloppy and uncoordinated, but anton is beyond satisfied. when you allow your eyes to drift downwards you can see every single vein from the tips of his fingers to the underside of his forearms.

he’s trying not to cum.

“mmm—you were made for this, weren’t you? made for me?” anton rasps, his teeth clenched in an attempt to resist.

“y—nng—yes, anton!” you cry , interrupted by an upwards grind of his own hips that punches the tip of his cock against that gummy spot inside.

your head lulls backwards, the brim of anton’s hat knocked by your shoulder blades.

but you don’t let it fall.

your free hand forces it the right way around until your view is partially obscured.

obviously the fact that an item from his closet adorns your figure is having a similar effect on him as it is you. he watches you put on a show as you adjust it before continuing to swirl your hips in his lap.

the noises escaping the back of his throat are a sinful mixture of moaning and whimpering.

if for whatever reason another body was near they may have mistaken them as sobs.

“wearing it better than me, baby” anton pants, nodding towards the accessory atop your head. then he’s hissing at the increased hold your spasming cunt has on each inch of him.

you can tell he’s close, but the way your abdomen is clenching proves that you’re in no position to judge. the squelching coming from below only sends your mind further and further into a frenzy.

“fuck—‘s good…really good.” you pant, tilting your head back slightly to gaze at the man in front of you. but the moment you lock eyes you find yourself regretting your decision.

his gaze is simultaneously near and far. he’s clearly spent but also zeroed in on you and only you.

beads of sweat are peppered across anton’s upper lip and you fight the urge to lean forward and take it between your own. the entirety of his neck is drenched as well. you unintentionally mewl at the sight, imagining the brine on your tongue if you were to lean forward for a lick or two.

fuck it.

careful not to allow anton’s cock to slip out you lean forward, rotating the hat on your head in the process to avoid it getting in the way. once you’re impossibly close you immediately connect your lips right below his collarbone, nipping until his moans follow as instant gratification.

the crack of his hand against your ass cheek causes you to jolt, whimpering shortly after. the sting forces you to clench around him once more, a hot gush trickling from your cunt down expanse of his cock.

your orgasm is coming in hot and fast, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

each of your limbs is tacky with sweat, your arousal practically gluing you to the man beneath you. at this point you’re barely even fucking yourself on anton’s cock due to the way your lower body is full of pins and needles—but to put it simply, you’re a mess.

and anton doesn’t give a fuck.

he’s the only man on earth that could get you this close to cumming, this quickly and with little to no regard for his own release.

truth be told, despite knowing the ins and outs of your body, he could’ve shot his load inside of you the moment you let his hat rest on your head. but you guiding his cock between your thighs was the cherry on top.

sick fuck.

you need to marry him.

eventually you and anton are in sync, slow grinding and labored breathing into each other’s mouths being the name of the game.

“c-close,” you choke, eyes momentarily rolling towards the back of your head. “shit! need—wanna c-cum. wanna cum with you.” the trouble finishing your thought comes with anton’s thumb on your clit, lewdly fondling like the joystick on a gaming controller.

“i’m with you, baby.” anton whispers, planting a kiss to the corner of your lips.

immediately you’re chasing him for a proper kiss when he pulls away, greedily whining as if he isn’t taking you in his arms as leverage and flipping the both of you until your back meets the mattress and his knees bracket your hips.

now it’s anton’s turn to finish what you started.

all it takes is a series of careful deep strokes to get you where you needed to be. the change in angle has you convinced that you can feel each of anton’s thrusts in your chest. tears prick behind your eyelids and your mouth starts to move beyond your mind’s capacity.

“ohmygod!” you manage to cry out, words both slurred and music to anton’s ears as he fucks you through your orgasm.

he follows right behind you—well the mess you made of him. once he can feel you slobbering around his cock his hips aren’t as precise, but you’re too far gone for it to matter.

your ears start to ring and through the disarray you can hear him begging you to cum inside.

in an instant you’re a blabbering mess. nodding like you’re answering the proposition of a lifetime and careful not to let anton’s hat slip from your head.

that’s all it takes for him to press his hips to yours one last time, painting your insides ivory.

anton leans down, finally delivering you the kiss you’d been waiting for. your heart swells and you shockingly manage to kiss back, parting your lips in anticipation of the weight of his tongue on yours. you sigh into his mouth, noticing that he hasn’t even gone soft inside of you.

when you pull back first his eyebrows lift, as if to challenge.

“one more?” you murmur, suddenly coy beneath his gaze.

“on one condition,” anton starts. now it’s your face that reads confusion.

“keep the hat on.”

He was cute. And he was heading toward you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed. “Next time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m studying.”

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

“It’s convenient.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked at you, baffled. “What?”

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

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

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

“Well then, leave—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Comfortable?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There was no one around!” you protested.

“You didn’t ask me.”

“You were busy!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Forget it, then.”

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

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

You blinked. “Together?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When did I say you were?”

“You kept implying it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are we waiting for someone?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Claire?” Sohee blurted, surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on in! Everyone’s waiting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you’re unbothered?”

“I’m unbothered.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll pass,” Anton replied, grinning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sohee gasped dramatically. “It’s what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?” he asked, amused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From whom?” you asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

You elbowed him lightly. “Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There,” he murmured. “How’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowned. “I don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get in my car,” he said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Different lexicon, same meaning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugged. “Assignment. Maybe game after.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s not.”

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

“Do you know how to code?”

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

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

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

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

You hummed. “Fair enough.”

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

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

He blinked, a little surprised. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you down there?” he asked.

“Didn’t wanna get crumbs on the bed.”

“You could’ve just sat beside me.”

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

“That’d be a first,” he murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

“It was an accident!”

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

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

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

You gasped, scandalized. “Excuse me?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t look up. “I always smile.”

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

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

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

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

You gasped dramatically. “You filthy little liar!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stared after her, blinking. “Sorry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you?” he asked suddenly.

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

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

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

“Hey?” he prompted again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, you’ve mentioned,” you xteased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still blissfully unaware, Anton absentmindedly reached up and cupped Sungchan's cheek, thumb stroking like a lovesick boyfriend.

“Man, I didn’t know you were this clingy,” Sungchan sighed, leaning in.

Anton blinked, his brain catching up, and when the realization hit, he let out a horrified gasp, yanking his hand so quickly like he’d been burned. “Sungchan, what the f—!” He scrambled across the couch as if distance would erase the moment.

Across the room, you were in stitches laughing with the rest of your friends, watching the whole thing unfold.

“Babe,” Anton called out to you, almost desperately as he fled toward you for safety. The sudden shift into an affectionate voice had everyone cringing.

“I could never get used to this,” Eunseok groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“I hate it when they call each other that,” Sohee added with a mock shiver. “Like, okay, you’re in love and I’m lonely. We get it.”

Anton ignored them, wrapping his arms around you like a child seeking comfort. “I missed you,” he mumbled dramatically into your shoulder, drawing another round of groans.

You tapped his forehead. “I was literally five steps away.”

“That’s five steps too far,” he countered, burying his face into the crook of your neck while everyone pretended to gag.

Moments like this had become normal now—Anton letting people see just how much he liked you, even if he still tried to cling to his “too cool to care” persona. It was adorable. 

Despite the teasing, you liked this new side of him. It felt good knowing Anton was willing to show both you and your friends a part of himself that not everyone got to see. Your relationship had leveled up, and it was evident not just in the way he acted but in the ease you felt together now

“Can we go back to when the only simp in this friend group was her?” Jill complained, pointing at you. “Anton’s giving me the creeps.”

Feigning offense, you planted your hands on your hips. “Wow, okay. Sue me for being drop-dead gorgeous and having a boyfriend who is, unfortunately for you all, obsessed with me.”

“Don’t listen to them, babe. Jealous friends are fake friends,” said Anton, covering your ears and kissing the side of your head.

Anton had a patience that made it easy to handle your boundless energy. When you’d burst into a room excited, full of chatter, he would always listen with a soft smile, never overwhelmed by your liveliness. He never tried nor needed to match it—he balanced it.

Anton knew how to take care of you, too. When your stress bubbled over, he’d pull you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head, whispering words of comfort so softly they barely broke the silence. You’d feel the stress melt away in those moments, reassured just by being close to him.

And you understood him just as well. You knew when he was getting tired, even when he tried to hide it behind his usual stoic demeanor. Like when he’d sit a little closer than usual or his fingers would linger on your arm. That’s when you’d instinctively dial it back, protect him in the way he protected you. You were attuned to his subtle cues, an understanding between the two of you that others rarely noticed.

“Remember when we were in that seminar, and you asked me if I liked you?” you had asked randomly one day.

Anton laughed, a soft sound that felt like a warm hug. “How could I forget? That was when I started falling for you.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes widening at his revelation. Anton rolled his eyes as if he regretted telling you that. “No, but seriously?”

“Yes. You were so confident then. You looked me in the eye and said exactly what you felt. I felt my heart skip a beat for the first time that day.”

“No way!” You swatted his chest, grinning. “So why pretend you didn’t care for so long?”

Anton scratched the back of his neck. “I might’ve enjoyed watching you chase me.”

You gasped, scandalized, and he only smirked. “What were you going to say that day, anyway?”

“Oh!” You sat up, remembering. “I was gonna ask if you were about to tell me to leave you alone before the professor walked in.”

He stared at you, then smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, no. I think you’ve figured out the answer.”

You giggled and climbed right back into his arms, looping yours around his torso and meeting his gaze. “I love you so much.”

“Love’s overrated,” he replied instantly, chuckling. Then, softer, forehead resting against yours, he added, “But love was worth a try with you.”

even when you two were actively fucking anton had to have some part of you in his mouth or on his tongue. 

specifically, he always found an excuse to play with your tits. claiming that it was to please you.

although it was abundantly clear to the both of you who truly enjoyed it more.  

it’s the tail end of your period and although anton insisted…you opt against period sex. 

so now you lay sprawled out in bed, dry humping your boyfriend like a crazed freak. 

anton’s lengthy body is slotted between your legs; the weight of his hardened cock against your thigh is no help in soothing the agonizing ache of your cunt. each drag against his thigh sending a wave of pleasure from the pit of your stomach up through your chest.

your tits are beyond swollen, sensitive to the touch.

and anton’s busy making a whiny mess of you. 

your shirt is completely deformed from the way he continuously yanked at it to tongue at your nipples. begging, “please.” in his featherlight voice just swearing he just wanted to make you feel good, despite the way he’s rock hard and rutting against the underside of your thigh.

his hand, gentle in contrast with his mouth, cradles your unoccupied mound. 

“toni,” you sigh, jaw borderline unhinged with the way your mouth is wide open—whimpers seeming to be the only way you can indicate to him that he’s making you feel good. 

“shit—baby, you look so pretty like this,” he groans, “wish i had a photo of your tits.” his words are muffled by your cleavage.

you can tell he didn’t intend for you to hear the second part, but he commits.

“proof that you let me do whatever i want when i get you like this.” 

you whine, legs twitching near his hips that force you wide open.

“then take one.” 

his eyes momentarily got wide at the suddenness of those three words.

“yeah? you wanna pose for me?” he urges, eyeing the way you’re covered in the sheen of his spit, scattered hues of violet already in bloom across your entire chest. 

you don’t have to oblige again before he’s already got his film camera in the hand that isn’t squeezing each of your tits, grip embedded like he’s got a hold on a piece of memory foam. 

he hisses at the way your plush flesh bulges from each space between his slender fingers.

you’re embarrassingly responsive as you let anton have his way with you, the noises that fall rushed from between your lips meet his ears, unwavering and combined with the shuttering of his camera. your cheeks flushed, eyes glossed over as they take in the mess of your boyfriend while he’s straddled above you. 

his hair is tousled from the way you ran your fingers through it moments ago, a thin layer of sweat altering the way his shirt clings to his sculpted upper body.

your cunt clenches around nothing.

“gonna develop every. single. photo.” anton mumbles from behind the camera.

your doe eyes peer up at him through the lense. pleading, although you’re not sure what for.

"say cheese." he snorts sarcastically.

*click*

the shutter sounds and a brief flash blinds you.

“for all the nights that i have to be away from you,” anton continues, throwing the camera to the side of your body not caring how it lands on the mattress with a faint thud. 

then his hips are flush against yours, the press of his cock against your clit that’s completely covered makes your thighs shake.

“maybe i’ll scatter the photos across the bed, fuck my hand, wishing it was you touching me instead—cum all over the prints, paint your tits...this pretty face.” he rolls his hips forwards, bringing a hand up to tilt your head towards him. his sentence is punctuated with the way your lips part in a moan.

the way the blood leaking from your insides mixes with your arousal is embarrasingly erotic. each time anton grinds between your hips a squelch can be heard.

you feel disgusting, but the feeling fades immediately when you consider how anton was ready to stick his dick in you earlier despite the crimson beneath your soiled panties. that was a dead give away that you being on your period didn't actually matter to him much.

you lose it, biting down on your tongue to contain yourself.

“you’d like that, hmm?” your boyfriend taunts, his hips not stopping but instead pressing harder. he’s watching your face with intent to watch your resolve continue to slip.

“pretending you don’t, always coy with me so i get embarrassed for wanting this.” he tugs on one of your nipples particularly rough, then he lands an open handed strike in the same spot, watching the way it bounces back right in front of his face.

you yelp, head lulling back between your shoulder blades. both your eyes grow extremely heavy before they fall shut.

“my dirty girl.”

you’re gushing at the lewdness of the nickname, your ankles that are now locked behind him cause the heels of your feet to dig into his lower back.

then his lips are on you again, soothing the increased throbbing of your poor buds.

anton takes both your breasts in his hands, pressing them together until your nipples almost create an arrow pointing directly towards his greedy mouth.

parting his lips he holds out his tongue, flattening it and shaking his head side to side against your nipples that grow even harder than before at the sensation.

the way you choke on a whimper makes his stomach flip, his brows furrow at the feeling of his cock sloppily leaking into his boxers.

“anton—oh my god!” you practically scream, imagining how your throat will ache in the hours to follow.

the thought that you weren’t the one that was supposed to enjoy any of this more than anton is furthest from your mind.

all you can do is reel at the feeling, pussy beginning to spasm. 

it doesn’t take much longer before you start to cum in your shorts, entire body trembling while you hold onto anton like he’d disappear into thin air.

you can feel the heat of his own release against your thigh. his tip damp through the rough barrier of his pants. he’s persistent in smearing his cum against your legs that are still spread impossibly wide. both your hips continue in motion until his cock begins to soften.

anton releases your nipple from his mouth with a pop, bottom lip glistening as it’s connected to you by a singular string of his salvia.

you’re spent, painfully overstimulated now. you attempt to physically recoil against his touch. hissing when he places one last kiss to each of your tits before attempting to fix the disarray of your garments.

when both your bra and shirt are somewhat back in place you’re huffing, struggling to catch your breath. but your mind begins to venture.

your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of how many photos he’d taken, and you become dizzy with the uncertainty of his true intended use.

anton would never show the photos to anybody other than you.

he’d actually rather die than let someone else see the way you looked underneath him: fucked out, clothes messily pulled aside, covered in the evidence of just how much you belonged to him. the thought never crossed his mind. but you knew that.

that’s not why your heart was near lurching out of your chest.

you could only pray that he’d use the pictures of you to get him through a lonely night or two…or three.

but the mental image of him taking a massive hand to yank at his angrily leaky cock while he panted and whimpered as his stomach flexed, sweat soaking every inch of him—it was enough to send one final gush of wetness from of your cunt.

because he’d be doing it while looking at a plethora of photos that would reveal your tits that you let him bruise and abuse.

anton, the moment he grew fond of you, swore to himself that he would work harder than destiny. than the universe. than the whims of any god.

that man has been helplessly in love with you since day one. no one can change his mind.

anton is the most patient man to ever walk this earth.

he patiently waits for you when classes are finally over. you pace slower than him when walking together.

when you asked him to teach you some bass basics, and you were struggling, you never heard him hiss or groan in annoyance. it was new to you because you were used to hearing people complain when you were asking for nothing more than help.

anton is the gentlest soul. he was your classmate in high school, the quiet boy who was into music and sports. often carrying his cello and training bag, he would sometimes intentionally bump his things against your desk every morning just so you would notice him and greet him "good morning."

eventually, you became friends and bonded through silly conversations, trips to convenience stores, or random weekend study "dates."

by senior year, it was safe to say he was a close friend who obviously liked you. he wasn't even subtle, yet he remained remarkably nonchalant about it. (he didn't confess, but his actions were telling.)

anton never made you feel pressured to return his feelings. still, both of you stuck together like constant companions.

he was simply charming back then. he always accompanied you to the bus stop, a ten-minute walk from school.

being in love with you meant becoming a total loser for you. imagine him riding the bus, pretending to get off at a stop after yours just so he could linger with you a bit longer. in truth, he didn't even need transportation...he lived within walking distance of the school.

he noticed that you sometimes skipped lunch (to save money or sleep). so, he’d bring far too much food to share with you. he reasoned it as "bulking" for training whenever you asked why his meals were so proportionately large.

anton was always ecstatic whenever you asked him about music. whether it was an inquiry about instruments or what songs were trending, he’d geek out, genuinely pleased that you were interested in his world.

thus, he created a playlist of all his recommendations and shared it only with you. even his friends weren't allowed to listen to it; you were the only one with the link.

besides, he had a folder full of draft compositions, all inspired by you.

one time you mentioned liking a certain drink from the store, and the next thing you knew, it was a consistent sight on your desk every other day.

anton never stares directly at you for too long because he’s afraid his eyes will give him away.

instead, he became a master at watching you out of the corner of his eye. anton memorized the way you tie your hair or the specific sound your shoes make in the hallway.

but he's also incredibly attentive when you speak in class or tell him something you've discovered. you would become self-conscious because he would never break eye contact while you spoke.

anton swore he loved the idea of memorizing your features, yet he mastered the skill of grasping every word you yapped about despite being drowned in the beauty right in front of him.

often, he would look away instantly when he felt his nose burning with a pink flush.

you had to admit that your first love was memorable because it was anton.

...and you for anton.

as you grew older, it was a slow realization that you were just like anton—reserved and quiet. you shared so many interests and opinions, but the contrast was that you were too scared of love.

he was full of it, deserving and willing to give it all.

maybe he didn't deserve you. or rather, any part of your life that felt insecure when you let him in. his upbringing felt worlds apart from yours.

so, as romantic as it seemed, when anton confessed to you while the rain was pouring, you respectfully rejected him and bid him a final goodbye.

your world crushed as you saw his eyes, and how his expression showed he was trying so hard not to beg for answers.

"tell me you don't want me to leave, and i won't." it was hard to hear him, his soft voice clashing with the heavy rain. even if you tell him you don't want him to go, he is still fated to leave for his dreams.

of course, you didn't want anton to leave. he's the only person who sees through you, who genuinely cares for you, and totally understands you.

he was the only person you had.

but then again, your worlds were apart.

anton saw how you looked at him as if he were a stranger. you were the first to break eye contact, running away from him that night.

he stayed frozen there, standing in the middle of the park, drenched. all he could think about was you. he spent another thirty minutes alone in the rain, just in case you changed your mind and ran back.

when anton moved overseas to pursue his dream, you accepted the fact that your shared chapter had ended.

even though the only way you knew how to move forward with life was with him.

during college, you decided to distance yourself from everyone and start a new life. part of that meant leaving someone behind who wasn't there anymore.

anton, on the other side of the world, never stopped thinking about you. he tried asking your mutual friends how you were, but no information ever came back to him.

on your birthday, anton flew recklessly back home (without his parents' knowledge) just to gamble on the chance of seeing you after a year apart.

every year, he typed a "happy birthday" to your old number. he would stare at the blinking cursor, never moving past the drafted text.

anton usually celebrated your birthday in total silence, perhaps just by buying your favorite snack and eating it alone.

he wanted to respect your peace. he knew you so well. you had many reasons to be distant and alter your life, and he wished he could help you lessen the burden. so, showing up suddenly didn't feel right.

but a plane has already brought him back home.

instead, he waited at a cafe near your university, hidden in a hoodie and mask.

he had no idea whether you would even walk by or go to that cafe.

finally, after three hours of hoping and inhaling iced americanos, the bell chimed. there you were—the person he loved so much, despite the painful silence between you.

you had changed, and it was physically visible. he couldn't pinpoint if it was for better or worse, but he wouldn't dare bother you.

you ordered an iced latte and the cheapest cake the cafe had. for a student on a budget, it was enough.

anton devised a simple plan: buy a whole cake of your favorite flavor, ask the server to hand it to you with some made-up excuse, and hurry back to the airport.

you were surprised that day by a "lucky birthday promo." you went back to your dorm happily with a box of strawberry shortcake you had been eyeing for weeks.

the universe had finally favored you. from then on, you promised yourself you'd be a frequent customer there until you graduate.

little did you know...

all thanks to the guy who flew back overseas that night, uncaring of the consequences. at least he knew you were well.

you stopped listening to his playlists. you didn't want to be reminded. but the moment you found out he was still consistently adding new songs, you found yourself saving them again.

anton never stopped adding music to that old playlist he exclusively shared with you. he wasn't sure if you were listening, but the chances were never zero. for years, he added songs he wanted you to hear—songs that resonated with his longing.

it was still you. it was always you for anton.

for his junior recital, titled "Saudade," anton performed pieces by his assigned composer. he also finally completed the drafts he started in high school—the ones you saw only in the hidden music room. the ones you gave suggestions for, despite knowing nothing about the musical notes. the ones you teased him about dedicating to you.

on a random day, you decided to check how he was doing. you jumped from site to site, glad to see him thriving.

you stumbled upon his soundcloud. a three-minute song titled "saudade" was there. you tried to stay composed until you heard a familiar giggle fading softly after the bridge.

anton had sampled your giggle from that silly high school video of the two of you doing dinosaur impressions.

oh.

anton remembers you more than he ever truly knew you.

guess who flew back just to stop by your university on graduation day?

anton was also graduating in two days. he thought, time zones be damned.

he didn't ask if outsiders were allowed. he just roamed outside the venue until the ceremony ended. he spotted you from afar, taking photos with friends.

he wanted to give you flowers, but he didn't know how. so, he settled for the contentment of seeing you happy.

he wore a white long-sleeve shirt that fit his figure perfectly. he blended into the crowd, though people whispered about how handsome he was as they passed.

coincidentally, you saw a familiar face in the sea of robes. your gut told you it was him, but by the time you pushed through the crowd, he was gone.

maybe you were daydreaming.

you swore it was anton. but there was no way he’d fly back just for this. he probably forgot about you already.

anton focused on his career during those years, becoming successful immediately after graduating. he thought that if he ever ran into you again, he wanted to be "worthy" of standing beside you.

months later, when a friend invited you to a reunion at a new family restaurant, you never expected anton to be there.

and god. locking eyes with anton again—it was a struggle to convince yourself that this was reality.

you were mesmerized by how well he had aged. he looked intimidating, secure, and grown.

there was no way a man like this was still single.

there was no way anton would ever care about you like he used to.

when you finally crossed paths, anton’s reserved nature acted as a shield for the fact that he was actually shaking inside. his teenage self was screaming internally. it brought him back to the memory of you looking so dangerously pretty during the senior ball.

you had a way of making him feel incredibly uneasy, almost as if a million butterflies were fluttering in his stomach whenever you were around.

he was more nervous than he’d been at any recital.

anton wanted to see if you remembered him. you didn't react when he arrived at the table. it was awkward; you were sitting right across from him. people started to ask why you weren't close anymore.

"anton, here's the menu," you spoke quietly, handing it to him. the unexpected exchange went completely unnoticed by the rest of the table, oblivious to the tension building in the air.

as he looked across the room, he felt as if time had come to a standstill in that fleeting moment. everyone's chatter faded into a distant murmur, replaced by the pounding of his heart in his ears.

it was as if the world outside had dissolved, leaving only him and the source of his sudden, eager focus, enveloping him in a bead of heightened awareness.

when the group laughed at a story, anton still had the habit of not looking at the one telling the story. instead, he looked at you.

he just wanted to see if you were laughing, or if you felt left out. your reaction was the only one that mattered.

to lighten the mood after the heavy meals everyone had shared, a game started at the table. it was simple: there were random icebreaker questions on cards that anyone could answer freely. although it was somewhat boring, it helped spark conversations and allowed everyone to catch up.

yuha shuffled a card and read it aloud: “when was the last time you traveled alone?” everyone groaned, collectively agreeing that the card was boring. you didn’t have an answer, so you silently agreed with them.

as you picked a new card, anton coldly spoke up. “2023. 2026.” you looked up at him, and he was already sipping his drink. 

“aigooo, no need to brag, nyc boy,” one of your classmates next to him cooed. 

the years he mentioned were significant to you, so you watched him intently, wondering where someone as busy as him traveled alone during those times. 

anton took another sip of his drink before glancing at you, as you were already conversing with yuha.

2023. your birthday.

2026. your graduation day.

later, he volunteered to drive friends home, and you were assigned to his car along with two classmates.

you discovered that he was residing in your building, sharing an apartment with your best friend's brother. they were living together temporarily while he searched for a place of his own, creating an unexpected connection just down the hall.

a true coincidence. destiny had favored him this time.

"unlucky" for you, you had to sit in the passenger seat.

anton was quick to notice you shivering and adjusted the temperature without a word.

when he overheard you were sick, he dropped a bag of supplies at your door. he texted, "i had extras, thought you might need them," even though the receipt showed he bought them five minutes prior.

"it's been five years. i'm sure he has moved on," you told your best friend.

moved on?

anton is immovable when it comes to you.

even now, he drinks the tea you liked and reads the niche authors you mentioned once in passing.

in the years apart, anton found ways to keep you in his life without you being there.

it wasn't obsession; it was just that those things were the only physical tethers he had left.

with his gentle nature, his yearning was physically painful to witness—if only you could see it. he was constantly fighting the urge to reach out.

once, he was already in the elevator when the doors reopened to find you aggressively pressing the buttons, panting. you hurried inside, desperate for the doors to close.

you leaned heavily against the cool, glass wall, your heart racing as the weight of your emotions felt almost tangible as you tried to gather yourself.

when you finally lifted your gaze, there stood anton beside you, his presence steady and reassuring in the midst of your turmoil.

you fixed your posture and sniffed, looking at him with the same eyes that had cried in the rain years ago.

the air felt tight. anton was so surprised that he couldn't find the words to ask what happened.

in a millisecond, you found yourself buried in his chest, arms latched around his back as if anchoring yourself to him. a wave of emotion surged through you, and soft sobs escaped your lips, muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

the world around you faded as you lost yourself in the comfort of his embrace, finding solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing against you.

anton wanted to hug you back so badly it hurt, but he was terrified of overstepping. he let you clutch his shirt, his hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to hold you.

anton used to be the calmest person to hold you.

the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, jarring you from your thoughts and pulling you back to the present moment.

“i’m so sorry,” you stammered, your breath still quickened by the adrenaline. “a drunk man was... chasing me. i got so scared.”

with a deep, apologetic bow, you rushed out of the elevator, eager to put distance between yourself and the unsettling encounter.

you enjoyed reconnecting during hangouts at anton and sungchan's place with your best friend, yuha, and you occasionally bumped into him around the building, sharing small talk.

yuha, the typical best friend that she is, always insists you come to his brother's place so you can see anton.

after one busy week, you finally decided to go for a grocery run. you normally went with sungchan, but out of courtesy, you had to ask anton as well.

"oh. sungchan decided to just sleep and let me come with you," he awkwardly hissed.

when in fact, he actually pushed sungchan before leaving their unit.

the idea of shopping together felt casual yet friendly, an opportunity to bond over shared experiences as neighbors.

while strolling the aisles, your shoulders brushed as you reached for the same item. he went completely still. he didn't pull away. for a loser like him, he savored that half-second of contact like it was oxygen.

you tried to hide a smile when your hands grazed while grabbing a pastry. "hey. look, it's your favorite," he remarked.

he still had the same effect on you.

and he still had the same foolish heart for you.

just as anton memorized your features, he could recognize the sound of your heart the moment you entered a room.

when he spotted you talking to the same mean relative who had mistreated you since high school, he saw the tension in your jaw and the way your eyes lost their spark.

he approached the apartment security with firmness, requesting their assistance in drawing away the intruders from the premises.

after a tense wait at his car, he felt a wave of relief wash over him when the security personnel finally took matters into their hands.

you were so thankful and pleased to hear the admin's mention of the possibility of blacklisting your relative, ensuring they wouldn’t trouble you on the premises again.

anton doesn't just like you—he studies you well.

he leaves for work at the same time as you, so you often meet in the lobby. through those shared encounters, anton was content with the simple "good mornings" you exchanged.

eventually, he found the courage to ask if you needed a ride.

anton was a liar. he would drive thirty minutes out of his way just to spend more time with you in the quiet of his car, where the world felt small, and it was just the two of you and the hum of the engine.

still a loser in love. you never knew he was lying about his workplace location.

shared rides became a space for catching up, until the atmosphere no longer felt thick or uncomfortable.

anton is usually composed, but after a few drinks at a classmate's engagement dinner, his walls thinned.

he was honest.

anton leaned his head back, eyes half-closed, watching you across the table with a look of such raw longing it made your breath hitch. he whispered, "i miss you," and then immediately looked away, blushing.

that didn't exactly help you sleep that night.

just like several years ago, anton became a constant in your life again.

he had a hectic day on your birthday, but rushed to your unit an hour before the day ended. luckily, you were awake.

you were surprised to see him holding the same cake brand you received "for free" back in college.

you both stood there for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. a soft smile crept across your face, slowly thawing the uneasiness between you. "i... i wanted to give you this," he said, breathless, his eyes flickering with a mix of excitement and worry.

you felt a rush of warmth as you stepped aside, inviting him into your space.

soon, you found yourself cozily settled on the couch next to him, the lights spread around a warm glow in the room. anton began to sing the softest version of "happy birthday," his voice still a gentle caress that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

as you swayed the cake back and forth, the flickering candle casting playful shadows on your face, a sense of bliss surged through you.

with a deep breath, you closed your eyes to make a wish, then you blew out the candle in one breath.

anton, captivated by the scene unfolding before him. the view in front of him felt surreal.

all the waiting, all the years. it was clear that you were truly worth every single moment.

"what did you wish for?" anton asked as he sliced a piece for you.

"hmm. it's a secret."

he handed you the plate and smiled. "how can i make that wish happen if you won't tell me?"

one evening after his jog, he saw you with someone else in the lobby.

you were grinning, holding a box of chicken tenders from that guy (who held the elevator open for two minutes, uncaring of the sensor).

anton became incredibly polite, but his eyes went cold.

it was funny; you realized you knew him too well. the way he gripped his phone and how his voice dropped an octave.

"not the best chicken tenders," he broke the silence. you looked at him, amused. "very, very overcooked."

"too salty. if you got the yangnyeom flavor, it tastes like shi—"

you laughed. "actually, these are for sungchan. he asked me to pick them up for him. you can take them home."

right. wait, what? sungchan? my roommate? anton thought. stupid jealousy.

you handed him the bag. he was embarrassed, but his nonchalant facade held up.

before stepping off at your floor, you chuckled. "jealous over a delivery guy? tsk." the doors closed on his flustered face.

anton will mention tiny details—a specific keychain or a song you hummed once. you realized he was always paying attention, even when he seemed indifferent.

anton resigned himself to the idea that you might not choose him, so he settled for being the person you can always fall back on.

just like the old days. he remembered using family connections to get you scholarships, helping you confront your deadbeat parents, or gathering sign-ups for your part-time job. he even secretly paid classmates to buy the baked goods you sold. he even had revenge on those guys from the other class who made fun of you once.

even now, you don't know the half of his hidden efforts.

anton was the only person who truly treated you well.

once, you mentioned your laptop was dying, and you panicked over work files.

days later, he brought a giant box to your door. "you can use this for now. it's my extra."

before you could refuse: "it's not brand new." (it was.) "i didn't buy it." (he did.) you accepted it out of necessity, promising to pay him back.

"no need. use it however you want."

he can provide for you more than just the problems that need fixing, more than the convenience you wanted. definitely, he will provide for you however he wishes.

you also had a fair share of moments that you 'yearned' for him.

you find out through sungchan that anton also goes to your building's gym. therefore, that motivated you to become a 'gym person'.

suddenly, you're there every morning at 6:00 am or every saturday night at 9:00 pm.

you definitely had no idea how to use the specific machines near you.

"sungchan's the one who invited me," you boasted to anton, who was only wearing a tank top with his snapback backwards. damn it.

"i don't see a sungchan here every time i come, yet you’re here," anton smirked, almost walking past you. he paused and added, "sungchan trains on a different day. you might want to check on that."

one time, in all this pretentiousness, you were "cooling down" on a mat, but really, you’re just watching him do pull-ups in the mirror.

you started to admire the way the view of his broad shoulders and arms move when suddenly, his eyes met yours through the mirror.

instead of looking away, he holds the gaze while doing one more slow, effortless rep.

you were so flustered that you had to break eye contact right away and move somewhere you can't see him. when did he even get so hot?

sungchan had invited you over for a group dinner, excited to host after yuha had unexpectedly dropped by their place earlier that day.

to the siblings’ surprise, anton dedicated three hours to deep-cleaning the apartment.

once he finished tidying up, he rushed to take a shower, but not before he was left with the crucial part of picking the perfect outfit and perfume.

"anton, come out of the bathroom when i say, uhm… just a heads-up, the floor isn’t dry yet. i had to mop it again!" sungchan called out with a lie.

"okay!" anton’s cheerfully replied, unaware of the scheme that sungchan had. he invited you earlier than the actual dinner time, eager for a little fun at both of you and anton’s expense.

"you can come out now!" sungchan announced, barely able to contain his excitement.

when you stepped into the apartment, you were greeted by the sight of a shirtless anton, clad only in his denim shorts, who had just come out of the bathroom.

water droplets glistened on his skin, and he looked momentarily startled at your sudden appearance.

“i’m sorry! i wasn’t looking!” you covered your eyes in an instant. the shirtless guy was already tomato red.

“yes, you were~” sungchan sung while moving across the kitchen. his laughter threatened to erupt as he watched the scene unfold, a devious grin spreading across his face with the scenario he had orchestrated.

one quiet night, you stopped in your tracks while walking back from the convenience store. "why are you so nice to me?"

this stirred something in him. he finally found the courage to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. his fingertips trembled—as if his existence was a ticking bomb.

anton felt defeated by the sudden question. he looked at his shoes, then back into your eyes with an intense, careful gaze. "i've longed for you for all the years i had you, and all the years i could only remember you. i'm clinging to the hope that you'd eventually look at me and see someone you could love."

he sighed. "guess i was so nice to you."

anton doesn't look away anymore. he looks at you with a heavy, grounded stare, full of yearning that he no longer tries to mask.

as you looked back at him, you realized your own feelings had never truly faded. you were certain this time: you were finally ready to let him in.

the following night, a heavy, hesitant knock sounds at your door.

it was anton, he’s leaning against the doorframe, looking exhausted. the memory of his confession from the previous night never stopped replaying in your head. it's worse now that he's actually in front of you.

his crisp black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows didn't help your current state.

"i left my keys on the kitchen when i rushed this morning. sungchan is out. sooooo, can i stay here for a bit?"

your pulse thrumming in your ears. "sure, chanyo- anton. come in."

the atmosphere in your apartment shifts instantly. "i'll get you a blanket." you said, in attempt of escaping his presence.

"let's talk about last night." he walks toward you, stopping just inches away.

you try to back away, but you almost hit the wall next to you.

he places a hand on either side of you, effectively trapping you in his personal space. "please?" he pleaded.

anton was so close to your level. you can feel your chest ripping out any moment, you avoid his gaze as you can feel his eyes memorizing your face.

"i don't have anything to say to you," you murmured. in response, anton’s jaw tenses.

he looks down at your lips, "you sure?" you looked away and nodded.

you gazed at him once more, a wave of longing washing over you. anton leaned in closer, his warm breath grazing your skin as his nose delicately brushed against yours.

he felt a shiver run through him, every nerve ending alive with anticipation and desire. "you're a loser, anton." you murmured while his lips were just inches away from yours.

"i know." he says, a faint smirk appearing before he finally loses his composure. your thoughts surrendered to the following actions you made.

you don't say a word. you just reach up and clutch his sleeves. when you finally kissed him, it started gentle and innocent, a reminder of how your love started.

finally, he was able to relax his clenched fists at your side. he pulls back just an inch, looks at you, and kisses you again with ferocity. you pulled him closer as the kiss started getting desperate.

just moments after, you were both back on the couch. his hands, which usually stay strictly at his sides to avoid 'overstepping', are suddenly everywhere.

anton tilted your head back to deepen the angle of the kiss. he backs toward the couch, and you follow down instantly to straddle his lap. "now i understand why you didn't want to talk." anton mutters against your jaw, his breath hitching. you can feel his smirk form.

you lean down to kiss the sensitive hollow near his temple that smells like his perfume that you like. you pull away as you notice something. "you have a tattoo here?"

he pecks your lips before responding, "mhm." he fixed a strand of your hair and pulled your face down softly again for a longer, passionate kiss.

a low, jagged moan vibrates in his throat when you wrap your arms around his neck. you decided to move your lips again somewhere.

you softly sucked on the same spot again, teasing him.

anton quietly whimpered.

he actually did whimper.

"stop," he hissed. you were barely holding your grin from the response you got. "i swear."

just a mess for each other. years of pining and yearning had led to this moment.

you pulled away to breathe. he instantly helped you adjust your weight on his lap, both hands were on your sides.

"tell me this isn't your first kiss, anton." you bit your smile. you are a hundred percent convinced he kissed other people back in new york.

anton's head found your shoulder, his shyness evident in the way he hid his face to you. "it is." his voice was barely above a whisper.

a skeptical smile spread across your face as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to fully process the moment. no way.

"so, you're saying that-"

"yes. i waited years for this exact moment. so please, baby, let's continue where we left off." he rubbed the sides of your waist softly, in motions fueled by familiarity and desperation.

you chuckle. it was also your first, but for a guy who's hot and out of anyone's league like him, you still can't believe he waited years for a kiss, as if he was so sure this would happen soon.

every time your hips move against his thighs, anton's breath hitches, and your fingers dig into the muscles of his shoulders.

his hands slide up from your waist, a low growl escapes his throat, coming from a sound of pure, agonizing relief.

anton started to internally suffer the moment he felt you grind your hips down into his in a slow, torturous rhythm. you can feel the hardness of him through his jeans. you smirk during the kiss, as you thought to yourself that he had been holding back far too much. "you're hard."

"kiss my tattoo again and it'll grow bigger." he snickered.

"shut up."

he then started planting desperate kisses on your neck, resulting in him learning your weakest spot. then, he gasps against the sensitive skin of your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone.

this time, you were the one physically trembling now at the contact. you gasp his name, while tossing your head back.

anton's lips were back on yours upon the gasp of his name. the friction beneath both of you became a blur of heat and denim.

he hooks his hands under your thighs, pulling you even tighter and closer on his crotch, ensuring you can feel him. when you grind down on him in the perfectly aligned position, he lets out a jagged breath, "baby, please."

his self-restraint snapped. your shirt bunches up, and his hands slide underneath, his palms hot against your skin as his thumbs start to trace the underside of your chest. you moan at the sudden contact you felt next, and you were sure he smirked in between the ongoing kiss.

the friction was tortorous. your fingers moved to tangle in his hair, pulling his head to keep his mouth on yours.

then, it was time again to breathe. you needed something beyond this. when he finally met your eyes again, you sheepishly buried your face in the crook of his neck, while his breathing came in ragged. "i waited for you," you mumbled.

"i love you. so very much." anton gently tilted your chin up with his finger, his gaze filled with warmth. 

"should i say it back now, or should i wait for a more appropriate moment?" you teased playfully, giving his cute, big nose a gentle boop. 

"appropriate can wait, i suppose," he replied with a mischievous smile, and in a swift motion, he unbuttoned his shirt.

the man who swore to work harder than destiny has finally won.

when anton moved into his new apartment, the extra room caught your attention. it looked more than just a typical guest room. it was a room that had soft lighting from the window, with a view of the city, and a thought that reminded you of the type of bedroom you once mentioned wanting.

“this place looks like a jackpot for you,” you said.

"you like it here?" anton asked in confidence, making you look at him in confusion. "i mean, yes. it is a jackpot. i think i made the right choice."

more than the plans he had for himself that included you, he also has curated a life that had a permanent, person-shaped hole in it, trusting that eventually, you’d find your way back to fill it.

you definitely liked it there, and anton was certain of that. so, he has yet to figure out how to tell you that it was actually your room in his own place.

finally, spring came.

“happy birthday, chanyoung,” you murmured, the soft glow of the candle illuminating his face, and suddenly his new apartment was enveloped in a tranquil stillness because of this moment.

the dim lights created a cozy atmosphere that wrapped around both of you like a comforting embrace. you watched your boyfriend close his eyes and take his time before blowing out the flame.

"what did you wish for?"

he looked at you for a solid minute. "my wish already came true."

both of you beamed. he finally leaned in to hold you. "i'm not going anywhere this time." he kissed the top of your head. anton made a quiet pledge to himself at that moment that he would continue loving you like it was breathing.

it had been ten years. through high school, college, and adulthood, anton had waited. he didn't just believe in luck or coincidence. he believed more in the stubborn force of his own devotion.

and he would gladly do it all again in the next life, if it meant finding you over and over.

a love that once ended in the quiet passing of autumn had finally bloomed again in the spring.

because love endures.

anton’s been clingy all day!!! like, glued-to-you clingy. birthday boy privileges, he calls it, but really he just pouts every time you try to leave the bed for even a second.

now it’s late, fairy lights still twinkling, strawberry cake crumbs on the sheets because he insisted on feeding you bites while you sat in his lap earlier (and maybe some frosting ended up on his neck… which you licked off… which made him whine like a puppy).

he’s propped up against the pillows, long legs spread, sweatpants shoved down to his thighs, cock hard and curving up against his tummy. his cheeks are so pink, hair messy from your fingers running through it, and those big doe eyes are locked on you like you’re the only thing in the world.

“baby… please come here,” he whines, voice all soft and high, reaching out with grabby hands. “been waiting forever… my birthday’s almost over and i still haven’t had my favorite present…”

you crawl over, giggling at how dramatic he’s being, and straddle his hips again. the hoodie you’re wearing (his, obviously) rides up, and he immediately slips his big warm hands underneath, palms sliding over your bare skin like he’s memorizing every inch.

“you’re so tiny,” he mumbles, almost to himself, thumbs brushing the dip of your waist. “makes me feel so big… like i could just keep you here forever.”

you lean down to kiss him slow. sweet at first, then deeper when he whimpers into your mouth, little “mmh… mmh…” sounds that vibrate against your lips. his tongue’s shy but eager, tasting like strawberries and want.

“please… wanna feel you now,” he breathes when you pull back, hips bucking up just a tiny bit, cock nudging against your folds. “been so hard thinking about it… about how you stretch around me… how your tummy gets all full…”

you reach down, guiding him to your entrance, and the second the tip pushes in he lets out this long, broken whine.

“ohhh… fuck… so warm… so tight already…” his head falls back, throat working as he swallows hard. “slow—please go slow, baby… wanna feel every bit…”

you sink down inch by inch, and anton’s hands fly to your hips, not pushing, just holding like he’s scared he’ll float away if he lets go. his eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, little pants escaping every time you take more.

“there… there… look—look at that…” he whimpers, one hand sliding up to press flat on your lower tummy. the bulge is already there, faint but obvious with how thick he is. “my cock’s right here… see? making your cute belly all round…”

he rocks up gently, just shallow thrusts, and you both watch his hand move with him, feeling the swell rise and fall. every time he bottoms out he lets out a soft, needy sound, almost like a sob.

“feels so good… you’re squeezing me so much… my perfect tiny girl…” his voice cracks, eyes glassy. “don’t wanna cum yet… wanna stay like this… just feeling you around me…”

you start moving, slow rolls of your hips, and he’s a mess. whining every time you lift up, gasping when you sink back down. his free hand grabs your ass, kneading softly, like he’s trying to keep you close.

“baby… baby please… kiss me while you ride me?” he pouts, tugging you down so your chests press together. you kiss him messy, tongues tangling, and he moans right into your mouth, high and desperate.

“love you… love you so much… best birthday… you’re making it so perfect…” he babbles between kisses, hips starting to meet yours in tiny helpless thrusts. “gonna fill you up… make your tummy even fuller… wanna see it all swollen with my cum…”

the words make you clench hard, and he outright sobs. a cute, whiny “ah-ah-ah!” that has him burying his face in your neck.

“nooo… you’re gonna make me cum… not yet… wanna feel more…” but his thrusts get a little faster, a little deeper, the bulge more pronounced now. he keeps one hand pressed there, rubbing circles over it like he’s soothing himself.

“look how pretty… my cock bulging your tummy… you’re taking me so well… so deep…” he’s rambling now, voice all shaky and soft. “please cum for me first? wanna feel you shake… wanna hear my name all whiny like that…”

you’re close. his size, the pressure on your tummy, the way he’s looking at you like you hung the stars—it hits fast. you tremble, crying out his name softly, clenching so tight he follows right after.

“oh god… baby… cumming—cumming inside…” he whines long and loud, hips stuttering as he pumps you full hot, thick spurts that make your belly feel even more stretched. his hand stays on the bulge, feeling himself throb, and he shivers through it, little “thank you… thank you…” whispers against your skin.

when he finally stills, he doesn’t pull out, just wraps both arms around you, pulling you down to his chest so you’re cuddled close, his cock still buried deep.

“don’t move… please?” he mumbles, voice small and sleepy now. “wanna stay like this… keep you warm… keep my cum inside…”

you nuzzle into his neck, and he starts pressing tiny kisses everywhere. your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose. “happy birthday to me… best one ever… love my tiny baby so much…”

he rubs slow circles over your tummy again, right where the soft swell is, smiling all dopey and content. “think it’s bigger now? from all the cum?” he giggles shyly, then pouts again. “round two soon? wanna watch it happen again… wanna make you whine my name more…”

you just laugh softly, kissing his dimple. “anything for the birthday boy~”

- after that night, anton suddenly became flirty with you. initially, you just saw it as a normal thing. he's like that—a gentleman and a sweet guy.

- it all officially started when he would randomly message you or send you tiktok and instagram reels. you went from nada to having an ongoing tiktok streak of 35 already. ever since, both of you have established that he will facetime you as both of you study. sometimes, he's practicing a cello piece while you're stressed out with org work, but you never get annoyed

- oh, also, he would always sing to you as he practices with his guitar or piano. that's where you start getting annoyed... because you're definitely falling. lol anyway

- well, you could say your battery has already deteriorated from how you and anton would always go on a sleep call

- sitting next to you in hangouts, scooting closer to you on couches, opening the cap of your bottle, resting his shoulder on yours, quickly dropping to his toes to tie your shoelaces, cleaning your utensils when the circle decides to eat outside, explaining to you (in his soft-spoken voice) what the group was bickering about or what the boys were debating about, and so on

- one time, he insisted on having you on his lap during a car ride where only one person brought a car. so you spent an entire hour stiff and breathless as you were settled on his lap. well, sohee was on wonbin's lap. your other girl friend was also on another girl friend's lap... so being on anton's lap seems normal, right?

- his hands steady your waist, your back pressing to his chest when the car suddenly brakes. anton, on the other hand, swears he could smell you and would slightly pull you closer so you can be comfortable. he asks you from time to time to adjust and assures you not to hold back your weight

- the small moments shared and the subtle actions that make your breath hitch continue every day. you let him, though. you don't say anything. and it's just as bad how these lines are blurred. again, you guys have been friends for a long time...

- it's all about the longevity and comfort you guys shared. LMFAOO you try to convince yourself that way

- but those aspects suddenly blur out when it's only the two of you studying together at the library and throwing flirty punches at each other.

- anton's sentences would often start or end with him referring to you as "pretty," "babe," or worse: "baby." and worst of all, you just let him and don't police that habit...

- when everyone's hanging out at wonbin's house, he would suddenly sneak up behind you and lean on your shoulders. he'd compliment how you look and how he likes your scent. apparently, the anton lee likes giving back hugs... and likes being hugged every night...

- also maintaining eye contact while being across the table or sofas? and he would just smirk when you break the eye contact

- to say the least, even the most boring errands—like grocery shopping, buying stuff you need for school, or waiting in line at the hospital—felt so exciting because anton was your company.

- you'd say everything is normal until it's 12 am, and anton's sleeping soundly with his face on your neck, laying on his side clinging to your waist

- then came the days when he would tease you, or plague your late-night talks with "what if" questions

- "you're lucky you're cute." "if you keep treating me like this, i might fall." "what if i actually took you on a real date?" "what if we actually kissed right now? nah, i'm just playing."

- and telling any of your friends about all of this could be the dealbreaker. so both of you never did. hell, you and anton never even addressed this elephant you're nurturing in your friendship... setup.

- "best friends premium?" you shamelessly muttered to your close girl friends when they caught all those selfies of you and anton in bed, cuddling together. or even those photos when the two of you went for breakfast 'dates.'

- sohee mentioned one time to everyone that anton's wallpaper is a baby photo of someone. "oh anton-ah, you didn't tell us you're talking to someone! who is it?" anton remained quiet but he quickly glanced at you to see your reaction.

- you bit your lip, hiding your smile from everyone who was teasing him. it was your baby photo that he found so cute when you showed him one time. you didn't know that he actually took a photo of it. and made it his wallpaper. like fuckkk WAT DAT MEAN?

- you noticed that anton seems different and acts unusual when you're wearing his clothes

- he's flustered each time :p

- so, you steal some of his clothes and he just lets you...

- you swore you saw him bite his lip one time when you were just wearing his oversized hoodie and your sleep shorts

- the subtle (or not-so-subtle) tension that arises when your previous fling or ex situationship is in the proximity. or when you're suddenly clingy with one of your friends (he doesn't care if it's a girl or a guy... he knows you can bend all genders so all of a sudden he's sulky???)

- "i'm not jealous though," he states.

- "okay. i didn't ask though. wha- anton, can you stop pouting?"

- but he still wins because he's holding your hand as you two walk to your house after the hangout or after your classes. sometimes its his biceps you're holding when the two of you are walking.

- finally, your and anton's tiktok streak says 50. so, 50 days of ridiculousness already of whatever-this-is with anton. you have fallen already. definitely. you feel conflicted at the same time. and you hope he does, too

- the routine you shared was present daily and anton was consistent in either being the flirty friend or stirring your feelings. well, to be fair, he's a romantic guy...

- the flower vase in your room was never empty. when he comes to visit for a movie night or a study night or a sleepover, he's never empty-handed as he enters your door. there's always a bundle of fresh flowers from the supermarket in his hands. if it's a special day, they're from a flower shop :3

- your friends can't do it anymore. they have noticed, they pointed it out, they sometimes pretend not to know or care. but they're just tired of seeing anton and you dilly-dally and call it friendship

- one night, as you and anton were walking to his house from a nearby burger joint sungchan recommended, you felt like it was already time to address it. his hand was warm on your palm, and he's just grinning as he sways it playfully

- you stopped in your tracks. the moment you guys were sharing earlier and the quiet of the night made it feel like it was the right time. "do you think we should date?"

- "definitely."

- "cool."

- "yeah, yeah."

- it felt sweet and innocent even though you guys were quiet and red the whole walk back to his place. you guys weren't teenagers anymore yet you acted like it—

- acting all innocent after that declaration of affection and suddenly you're in his lap, hoodie on the floor, your fingers threading through his hair carefully, and his lips almost engraved in yours

- you pulled away, unable to breathe. he whines.

- "well, i'm sorry i don't have the lungs of a swimmer." you playfully rolled your eyes.

- he scoffs lazily, followed by a smirk. "my bad."

- "remove your shirt, lee."

- anton follows and went for a quick kiss then pulled away out of nowhere. he rasped, "you know what else i could dive into?"

- you and anton both slept very well that night

- the following day, he asked you out properly for a date with all the things you could ask for (yet you never did because he did it all naturally!)

For what, he can’t surmise. Though he might have an inkling. 

He shuts the door behind him very slowly, takes his shoes off very slowly, then rounds the corner from the hall into the living room very, very slowly. 

And there you are, standing against the island with your arms crossed. You don’t look angry, and that’s the worst part. You just stare at him, expecting, like he’s the one who called this impromptu intervention. 

He doesn’t dare speak first because he knows whatever he says will be the wrong thing anyway. 

But when you keep staring at him, eyes growing narrower by the micron as the steely seconds pass, he’s left with no choice. 

“I missed you—“

“What the hell is this?” Your voice makes him step back, startled at the sudden way you step forward and shove your phone into his space. 

He blinks rapidly, the screen coming into focus. 

It’s a looped, blurry video of him on Twitter, lifting his shirt and exposing himself—butterflies and all—in the middle of a performance, on stage and in front of thousands of people... thousands of women. Well, that’s what it seems like but all he remembers is trying to detach the sticky fabric off his skin. 

But watching it now, it looks… suspicious… and when he lifts his gaze back to you, the glare explains it all.

“Wait, no, that’s not what it—“

“Not what it looks like?” You huff, shoving the phone in your pocket. He stammers silently, unsure how he’s somehow said the wrong thing again. 

“The shirt was wet! I was—“

“So you had to flash everyone?”

Well, truly he can’t remember what he was doing. His brain goes on autopilot sometimes during the shows and the questionable things he does aren't really in his control. That’s stage Jiung, not normal Jiung. Stage Jiung is the promiscuous harlot, not him!

He means to say all of this. But all his brain can make him do is gape like a fish. 

You click your tongue, and in his 24 years of life Jiung has never felt so chastised—not even when his dad found him after he ran away from home that second time. 

You turn to leave and Jiung lurches forward, grabbing you by the arm. 

“Love, I promise that wasn’t me—“

Okay, that came out wrong. 

You whip around again, your glare somehow even sharper, and Jiung nearly curls into himself. 

“Oh? Who was it then, prancing around the stage like a show whore?”

His face burns, his body burns. He knows you’re upset with him, but his dick doesn’t seem to get that hint. 

He swallows down his pride, wringing his hands together, eyes flitting away. “…Stage Jiung?”

The silence is somehow worse. 

Then a sigh, and you’re turning away again. 

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

And you leave him there, kind of scared that he’d actually pushed it too far this time, and kind of turned on that it just makes him want to push more.

𓆩⟡𓆪

You should’ve known that banishing Jiung to the living room would be a fruitless attempt. He’s clingier than you are possessive, and keeping him away from you for more than a workday is like depriving him of oxygen. 

So, soon enough, when it hasn’t even been an hour since you’d tucked into bed, you hear his soft footsteps pad eagerly up to your door. 

You take a breath, mentally preparing yourself for a war of attrition, completely determined to not let him win this time.

Even his quiet, endearing little “jagi?” as he pokes his head into the room doesn’t sway you. You shut your eyes quickly in hopes that he’ll just change his mind and go away. 

He doesn’t. 

“I know you’re not asleep,” he says, and his tone is so stringy and drawn out and warm in the way that makes you want to coddle him that you nearly hurl a pillow at his head. 

It makes you violent sometimes just how cute he can be with his voice alone. 

You let out an irritated huff, sharply turning to face away from him. 

Like the nuisance that he is, he crawls into the space behind you anyway. You curse yourself for not keeping it all occupied to steer him away. 

He’s quiet for a while, and you’re fine to just let it go and go to sleep without saying anything to make your point, but then he’s talking to you again in that tiny voice of his. 

“Are you really ignoring me?”

You grit your teeth. Yes, you yell telepathically. 

It’s a strategy, you remind yourself. He knows how to weaponize his cuteness. You’re not falling prey to it again. 

You feel a gentle tug at your hair—he must be twirling it around his finger like he always does when he wants to just be connected to you somehow. 

You’re about to turn around and bat him away—but then he’s plastering himself to your back. 

“Please don’t ignore me,” he whines into the back of your head. Then, he grinds his hips against your ass, and your eyes snap open at the prominent hardness you feel prodding against you. He buries his face into your shoulder, his hot breath hitting your neck. “‘M so hard… help me?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pursing your lips as you turn your face into the pillow. 

Fuck, what the hell are you supposed to do now?

Nothing, your brain supplies. 

But Jiung gets restless without attention, and very persistent. He’s bound to wear you down. 

Whatever, he hasn’t earned the grace of your attention. If he wants to get off, he can get off himself. 

“Tried on my own. Didn’t work,” he grumbles like he’s got a gateway into your inner thoughts. 

You hold in a gasp as he adjusts himself to slot his bulge against you, giving just enough pressure against you that has you nearly pushing back for more. You hold yourself strong.

And he hates it, clicking his tongue as he ruts helplessly against you again like that’ll get you to cave. 

“Jagi,” he whines again, drawing out the word as he shoves his face into the back of your head. 

You swallow down your hammering heart, squeezing your thighs shut to quell the growing burn. 

The thin fabric of your sleep shorts is a feeble barrier to hide the way his cock pulses against you with heavy need. 

He lets out a short grunt, frustrated when you still don’t respond. 

“Fine,” he huffs and you can almost hear the pout. 

You think it’s a cue to him leaving and you nearly protest the idea—until you hear the shuffle of clothes and then feel the blunt head of his cock nudging against the back of your clothed cunt. 

“Just—” He cuts off with a guttural groan as he traces your slit, the heated line of pressure of his cock carving through you as he pushes into the warm crevice created between your thighs. 

His arms wrap around your waist, clinging desperately as he messily bucks into you, slathering your silk shorts with his precum and quickly making you make a mess of it too with your own growing arousal. 

“Please,” he mumbles, words slurred against your ear. “Jus’ let me have this… just this, ‘ma make you feel—hah—feel good too…”

You fight to hold in every little noise that threatens to escape you whenever he nudges against your clit, but the pressure is so quick and short lived that you kind of want to throw a tantrum and demand he fuck you properly. But that would mean him winning. And you’re very egotistical in that sense, maybe even worse than him. 

Your fist clutches into the sheets as he drives himself against you, very uncoordinated and clumsy, but the careless noises that spill out of him that he would normally contain point to that fact that he couldn’t give more of a fuck about anything if it doesn’t mean him getting to cum. 

And it’s becoming almost unbearable for you to hold it all in, with the thick pressure of his cock sliding against your heat just a barrier away, so hot and so enticing. 

Your cunt weeps with the emptiness. And you nearly sob when he stops moving, just for a second. 

“‘M sorry I’ve been misbehaving,” he mumbles into your ear, gasping when he starts to rut into you again, even quicker and even clumsier. “Promise it was a mistake… fuck—” he breaks when his cock slips into the leg of your shorts, pushing into the wet mess of your folds. 

You can’t hold your gasp back then, your body seizing at the sudden friction of his bare cock against you. 

“Sorry,” he gasps, but just starts to fuck into that space anyway, apparently not very sorry. 

He holds your hip with one hand to keep you still, whimpering when his tip catches against your hole. 

And instead of heeding his own word to get himself off and pulling away, he pushes in.

“Sorry!” He gasps again, grunting at the tight heat of you clamping down at the sudden intrusion. 

“J-Jiung,” you heave, starting to squirm, but your train of thought gets completely derailed when he starts chanting ‘sorry, sorry, sorry,’ as he just pushes in and in and in until he’s seated deep inside you. 

You both settle with deep, shuddering breaths, bodies seized tight to get used to the feeling after days of nothing. 

And then you push your hips back, just a little, and the dam breaks. 

He clamps both his hands on your hips, pulls you back into an arch, and starts pounding into you, whispering and begging and sobbing into your hair about how he needs you, wants you, has to cum in you or he won’t be able to sleep.

And it drives you mad, how even after thoroughly pissing you off, he somehow manages to piss you off even more with how good he can fuck that anger out of you. 

Your body melts into the mattress as he flips you down and pistons you into it, muttering his apologies and singing his gratitude. 

“Won’t be bad ever again,” he vows into the back of your shoulder as he fucks right into that gummy spot inside you. “‘M just yours—fuck, thankyouthankyouthankyou—fuck!”

His cock pulses inside you, but just before he can spill, he rips himself off of you and flips you over. 

Because Jiung has an obsession with filling you with his cum that it doesn’t matter what position you’re in, he’ll fold you in half and drive in as deep as he can to make sure he’s giving it to you properly. 

And you lay there, eyes rolled to the back of your head as the warmth of his cum pools deep in your womb, his head buried in your chest, that you thank whatever power that’s out there that makes him act like a whore on stage, because none of them know just what Jiung reduces himself to for you and only you.

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He has to hold down your trembling body with his other hand to stop you from trying to escape his incessant fingers splitting your already over sensitive and raw cunt open, every single nerve ending blazing with an electric heat. 

Your eyes cross and your toes curl when he uses his thumb to massage your clit in tune with the thrust of his fingers, a pleading sob breaking free from your desperate lips.

"Shh, pretty baby," he mewls, voice as sweet as the chocolate you'd been eating earlier. He presses a kiss to your damp forehead to soften the blow of his fingers pounding harder into your pussy, but it does little to distract you. "You're doing so, so well for me... taking me so good."

You shake your head and almost free yourself until he presses down onto your lower belly, stilling your movements. 

You whine, the sound broken and strangled. "Can't Tae—please, I can't do it—"

"You can." He removes one finger so that he can easily scissor you open, watching your reactions with a dark, satisfied smirk splayed on his lips. "You can because you don't want to disappoint me right? Just a little more, okay? Just one more for me. You can do that, right, doll?"

You're too fucked out and dumb on his fingers to realize it isn't really a question at all, but his soft, soothing voice makes you want to be good for him, to give him everything and anything he wants from you.

You manage to nod with your eyes clenched shut, the stretch too much, the pleasure too dizzying to respond with words. 

He slows down his movements enough for you to catch your breath and watch the tears cascade down your cheeks like twinkling diamonds.

He coos, stroking soothing circles on your belly with his hand. "Look at my poor girl..." His eyes widen when you begin to buck against his hand, chasing the intensity you'd just been sobbing about moments before. It makes his heart swell with pride, his hands quickening their faltered pace. "You're so pretty when you cry, my love. Did you know that?"

You open your mouth to thank him, but the sound is swallowed by the familiar, overwhelming pressure coiling in your belly for the third time that night—too fast and too much for you to handle. You can't take it, your hand reaches for his wrist—

"You can," he repeats, reading your thoughts. He leans down to pepper kisses over your soaked cheeks, kissing each new tear as they fall. "I've got you, let go, baby. Let me take care of you."

His thumb presses down hard on your clit, rubbing frantically with tight, precise circles that have your back arching off the bed and this time, he doesn't try to still you. You scream as the pressure explodes, your cunt spasming around his fingers still fucking deep inside you, albeit gentler now.

When you sink back down to the bed, gasping and spent beyond your limits, he kisses you softly on the lips, mumbling, "That's my good girl."

You're still crying and shaking with the aftermath of your third orgasm when he pulls back with blown out eyes and a deceptive smile to match.

You whimper when he pulls his fingers free, breathing through the three seconds of peace before they trace your slit all the way up to your pulsing clit, spreading your cum around the sensitive nub. Your body twists away from him, your thighs clamping shut tight around his hand.

"One more," he whispers, coaxing your thighs open. "Just one more. I know you have it in you."

And because he asks so sweetly, because he has so much faith in you, you spread them open, your heart soaring at the proud look in his eyes. 

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