mel

The first meeting between you two happened when you were mere children. You were taller than him, by a handful of inches of course but it still mattered to him. Donghyuck didn’t like it. The adults teased him relentlessly while you were oblivious to it.

“What a cute pair!” His grandfather would say. You had your usual gummy smile when you heard that, simply accepting the truth. You liked Donghyuck. You think he was smart, confident and cute. You were his best friend and he was yours. If all the adults had the same opinion about you two being a perfect match, the only consensus to your younger self is that it must be true.

Donghyuck, ever the boy, would openly frown at any sweet comments about the two of you but when it was just the two of you, things were different. He would fix your pigtails when it came loose. When you came over to his house for a play date, he would surprise you with a dress up doll. His actions were confusing but that didn’t deter you. It felt like a secret between the two of you. The way he quietly showed you care and concern made your tiny heart swell. It was enough if it meant keeping Donghyuck by your side.

When you reached your tween years, the meetings naturally grew lesser. From seeing him once every season to seeing him annually, your relationship had shrivelled but your hope hadn’t. The yearning had always lingered at the back of your chest. It was an ache you ended up growing up with.

Polite smiles and cold gazes are exchanged and beneath it all was your longing. Every change does not go unnoticed by you. Donghyuck has grown taller, brazen. He has his own group of friends that hangs around him during year end parties while the rest of the crowd can only stand in the sidelines, admiring their presence. His laughter is more interesting than the crowd.

It stays the same for a few years up until you turn seventeen. You had wished for a quiet celebration with your loved ones but your mother had insisted on a bigger celebration. She had rented out a popular restaurant in the heart of the city. It had an open rooftop concept and the party was swarming with guests, majority had been decided by your parents. Your own friends and relatives were there, thankfully.

You stuck with your new best friend for moral support. It was much needed when Donghyuck walked towards your table. He carried his usual self with suave, a complete difference from the panic rising in your chest. You leaned in closer to your cousin when your best friend Yizhou says, “I’m not drunk am I? That is Lee Donghyuck.”

There is barely any time to recover from your shock. Donghyuck saunters to the table. Your mother is overjoyed, her face splitting into a wide smile as she gets up to greet him. Your father joins her and you force yourself to rise, slowly approaching them. You barely notice the friends he had brought with him, your eyes are glued onto him.

Donghyuck finally turn towards you and you hope the hitching of your breath isn’t audible. “Happy birthday,” he says as he extends a wrapped present to you.

“Thank you.” You mumble, stiffly accepting the gift. Your mother forces a laugh as if to compensate for your lack of emotions.

“Go. Enjoy the party boys!” Your mother tells him and his friends.

“It’s so nice of him to show up.” You hear your father say.

When Donghyuck disappeared into the crowd, you confronted your mother. “Why did you invite him?”

She takes a sip of her wine, fixing you with a smirk. “It’s your birthday dear. Everyone is invited.” While you love your mother, her ambition has always been bigger than your own interests. The worst part is that you can’t find it in you to be whole heartedly mad, the little girl in you is pleased by Donghyuck’s presence. It makes you feel pathetic. You thought that once you had grown older, you would have grown out of your affection for him. Clearly you were wrong.

It’s your birthday party but your attention has drifted towards Donghyuck. It should tick you off that he is the centre of attention at your party but you’re relieved to have this small chance to collect yourself.

“Hey, I need a toilet break.” You inform Yizhou as you pass your gift to her. Your cousin overheard you and tried to call after you, but you waved her off, rushing to the bathroom.

It’s times like these you wished you picked up smoking. You settle for gently patting your face down with water. Your hands are pressed against the sink, staring down at your own reflection. In a matter of hours, your birthday glow has faded and you’re back to the lovesick girl you used to be.

The thought brings tears to your eyes. “Fuck, no.” You refuse to cry over him, not when he’s a few feet away from you. You can’t even hate him. It is not his fault that you harbour such helpless feelings for him.

Looking at your reflection again, you try to smile. It comes out small and uncertain and you can’t help but laugh at the silliness of it all. You feel more like your usual self, taking it as a sign to join the party again.

You push the door ajar and the person behind it yells, “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh my god!” You try to shut the door again, eyes clenching shut but you’re met with resistance. You slowly peel your eyes open and meet the victim of your actions. The only intelligent reply you could come up with is prolonged silence.

Donghyuck clears his throat and gently tugs the door handle towards him, urging you to step out of the bathroom and into the corridor. “Right, I am sorry about that. Thank you for holding the door and um,” you pause, doing a once over at his appearance. “Are you hurt?”

His soft laughter surprises you. “I’m okay.” The grimace from your face doesn’t fade so he adds, “Didn’t you used to say that I was strong? I can handle a door.” Donghyuck winks as if to prove a point.

Your eyes dart towards the direction of your party, ignoring the flutter in your chest. You side step Donghyuck, getting out of the tiny corridor. The reason for your brief escape just had to appear right before you.

“Were you going to the men’s? You should go. I am leaving too.” You ramble, already walking away.

“No.”

Your steps halt and you slowly turn around. “Huh?”

There’s a decisive look in Donghyuck’s eyes and the way your stomach churns tells you that whatever is going through his mind, you will inevitably cave into his whims.

“I saw you leaving your party so I followed you.” He takes a step toward you. “I– Do you wanna dance with me?”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

There’s a redness that fans his cheeks but Donghyuck remains confident, even going as far as offering you his hand. The music is fainter in this part of the rooftop but even then, the scenery felt perfect. The potted trees were decorated with fairy lights to illuminate the area, along with the warm lights installed along the trees.

As far as your imagination goes, having Donghyuck willingly giving you his sole attention is much better than anything you have ever imagined.

“Are you sure? Don’t you miss the dance floor? I know it calls your name.” You tease.

At your remark, Donghyuck affectionately rolls his eyes. “The dance floor could use a little breather from my presence.”

You break into a shy grin when you slip your hand into his. “Okay. Then let’s take a breather together.”

It’s like the whole night was leading up to this moment. The song transitions to a slower beat, giving you the opportunity to sidle up Donghyuck and try to relax.

His mouth brushes the side of your head. “Follow my lead,” he softly instructs. It is as good as a warning you got from him. Donghyuck pulls you close so that you’re chest to chest. His free hand rests slightly above your hips, merely holding you but the reaction for you instant. It feels like his warmth is burning through the expensive material of your dress. Your eyes nervously dart around his figure.

Donghyuck’s voice softens. “Look at me.” Your eyes slowly shift towards his face. It starts at his forehead where stray strands of hair effortlessly frame his head, then it lands on his arched brows. They’re perfectly shaped because of course, the heir of the Lee’s has a beautician to tidy up his god sent feature. You purposely avoid his eyes, moving onto the slope of his nose and his inviting lips.

Bad move. You make a misstep and Donghyuck holds you firmer than before, his hand pressing into your hips to support you. You clutch onto his back a little tighter, probably leaving wrinkles in his pristine suit. This time you do meet his eyes, albeit apologetically. “I‘ve never done this before,” you tell him.

Donghyuck smiles and he slowly dips you, letting you lean back onto his sturdy arm as he brings his face to yours. “You have done this before though.”

You almost missed his reply. Your mouth part in confusion, a question already leaving your lips. “When?”

He brings you back to your proper position but this time, you feel caged in. Your brows are furrowed and Donghyuck’s humour dims. “You really don’t remember at all?”

When you shake your head, Donghyuck sighs wistfully. “It was my uncle’s wedding. You were seven and I was eight. We danced on the dance floor that day.”

You squint at him as you try to jog your memories. Slowly, bits and pieces of your earlier memories from your shared childhood comes back to you. It was an outdoor wedding on a sunny day. You were appointed as the flower girl and Donghyuck was the ring bearer.

“Wait,” you said as the memories came flashing in. “You were the ring bearer and you tripped on the carpet at the end of the aisle. Oh I remember now!”

You were grinning widely but Donghyuck wasn’t all too pleased. “Seriously? You couldn’t remember our dance but you remembered my embarrassing moment?”

You shrugged sheepishly. “Help me remember more of that day.”

Donghyuck laughs. “We weren’t really dancing, just swaying like this,” he says before changing the pace to an uncoordinated rhythm, causing you to squeal.

“Are you sure?” You exclaimed as you latch your chin over his shoulders.

Donghyuck suddenly stops. “Still don’t remember?” You lift your head to look at him and he’s already staring you, an unspeakable thing glimmering in his eyes. You shake your head.

“I spun you around.” You take it as a queue to pull back from his chest until you’re eye to eye. The first spin comes, with his arm raised above your heads. You try your best to follow his lead and you end up resting your hand on his chest, a bubble of laughter erupting from within you.

“That was clumsy of me.” Donghyuck agrees with a smile. “Try again,” he softly says. This time you are prepared and when you spin, you barely even trip. You beamed brightly as you look up at Donghyuck for approval and he nodded encouragingly.

Your smile drops a little when you tell him, “Unfortunately, I still don’t remember the wedding.”

“Hmm?” There’s a lilt in his voice that you didn’t expect. “Maybe this will help you remember.”

A soft peck lands on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You look at Donghyuck and he’s blushing when he pulls away. The tension between the two of you is palpable, your faces inches away from one another. It would be so easy to lean upwards and close the distance between you but you remained rooted in your spot.

“I think I’ll remember this better than our first dance from a decade ago.” Your voice comes out as soft as a whisper, barely heard above the noise.

Donghyuck releases you from his hold and he takes a step back, withdrawing himself from your shared space. You try to school your features to hide your hurt.

“I guess I’ll see you at the end of the year. Happy birthday Y/N.” There’s a guarded look in his eyes and you want nothing more than to scream at him but you don’t. You can’t. A lot of unsaid words were stuck in your throat and endless thoughts running through your mind as you watched Donghyuck turn his back on you, walking away from you with your fragile heart in his hands.

You didn’t tell any one of that sacred incident, opting to keep it to yourself. When you returned to your party, Donghyuck was long gone even though his friends stuck around. You ignore the skeptic glance they sent your way and plaster a smile for the rest of the night.

That same night, your dreams took you back to a forgotten memory, one where you’re dancing with your childhood best friend. His grip in your hand is warm and clammy but you didn’t mind, flashing him a smile. You’re still taller than him but even you can admit that Donghyuck is catching up to you in terms of height difference. The rest of the wedding-goers fade away and Donghyuck is leaning in. There’s alarm bells going off in your mind but you let it happen, his soft lips leaving a chaste peck on the apples of your cheeks. Donghyuck is saying something but it sounds garbled. You try to focus on his shy smile as the dream sequence slowly slips away from your consciousness.

When you wake up, you dart straight for the pile of gifts in the corner of your bedroom. You dig through the stacks of presents and take the wrapped gift that Donghyuck had given you. You’re sitting on your calfs, carefully tearing at the wrapping paper to unveil a sleek red box with gold embossing on it.

You cover your mouth with your hands, staring at the gift in disbelief. Inside the box, a gorgeous Baignoire in gold sits in there, waiting to be worn. You want to reach for your phone to send Donghyuck a text but you realised that you don’t even know if you had his number to begin with.

Amidst your shock, you finally notice the card that came with the present. You take the card to read what was written on it.

I can’t believe you’re 17 now. Time surely flies by when you’re busy growing up. I know you’ll wear this well.

lee donghyuck x

You don’t realise you’re crying until a stray tear lands on the back of your hand. You quickly wipe away the tears and gather his gifts in your arms before going to your storage trunk. In it is your most valuable possessions. It has started when you were young and you had developed an obsession with pirates. Donghyuck would always use it as his hiding spot for hide and seek.

You’re hit with a wave of nostalgia when you open up your trunk. There’s plenty of room for more possessions that you hope to collect in years to come. You carefully set the card down and put the jewellery box on top of it, just to hide it from any potential prying eyes. With a heavy heart, you will yourself to close the trunk.

“It’s his twenty first, you should be there!”

“I dunno,” you say as you turn the party invite around in your hands. Your thumb caresses the family crest embossed into the card. It has been ages since you had received an invite to Donghyuck’s birthday. To say you were curious would be a lie. “Besides, why would he have a party at his parent’s house? Shouldn’t it be at a club?”

Yizhou shrugs. “I don’t know? The Lee’s run a tight ship I guess with him being their heir and all that stuff. It would be safest to host a party at their estate.”

You’re not fully satisfied but her logic makes sense. “Your family got an invite too?”

“It was addressed to me, just like how your invite has your name on it.” Seeing as how you’re not convinced, Yizhou tries a different approach. “A masquerade sounds fun doesn’t it?”

“Yeah but it’s Donghyuck’s. Something isn’t quite right.”

“Then come to the party with me. Find out whatever it is that you’re suspecting him of.”

Without meaning to, you glance over at storage trunk situated at the end of your bed. It has been almost three years since you had received the priceless gift from him. It remains untouched by you.

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Okay?”

You nodded, holding the urge to take your words back. Yizhou squeals. “Yes! Thank you!”

You pull your best friend in for a hug, smothering Yizhou as she struggles against your strength. Your bright laughters carry through the night and your unease sits at the back of your mind.

And so, you’re left with a moments notice to scramble for an outfit. You have been to plenty of parties but a masquerade is a whole new ballgame. There’s a slight thrill behind the anonymity of the event and it serves as a comfort for you to lean into. Your mother is beyond thrilled to hear that you had accepted the invite. She had given you free rein on your choice of outfit and in a small act of rebellion, you decided to find yourself a vintage dress worthy of your mother’s credit card.

All that’s left was the mask. You browsed countless websites for a mask suitable to your likings and one finally caught your eyes. That purchase had also gone onto your mother’s credit card.

Even though it was not expected of you, you still wished to bring Donghyuck a present. Yizhou and your close cousins were of no use so you turned towards your father for help.

“Could you help me find out from Mr Lee what Donghyuck would want for his birthday?”

Your father tilted his head sideways. “Are you sure you came looking for the right parent?”

You walked further into the study room and dramatically dropped onto the vacant seat. “I don’t want to ask Ma for help. She will end up taking control of the gift and probably terrorise Mrs Lee.”

Your father snorts in agreement. He takes in your dejected mood and his face softened. “I don’t think me or Mr Lee would be of much help. Whatever the gift is, I know Donghyuck would appreciate it because it came from your heart.”

His words were true. You had been trying to avoid personalising your present but a meaningless present would be pointless for the both of you. “He grew up well,” your father suddenly says.

“What do you know of him? We only see him once a year.” You can’t help but challenge your father, curious as to what he thinks of your childhood best friend.

He clicked his tongue in disagreement. “No, you and Ma only see him at the end of the year. I have seen him socialising at the country club.”

Donghyuck is charming and has ambition which makes him a threat in your societal pool. While you typically choose to distance yourself from society, Donghyuck was rising through it, making all the right connections one handshake at a time. As far as you know, he was still in college. To think that he was juggling his ambitions on top of school was impressive to you.

“What does he do there?”

“He mostly plays tennis.” You hummed thoughtfully. It’s enough of a lead for a perfect gift. You thank your father and take your leave, occupied with a mental list of potential gifts for Donghyuck.

The day finally arrived. You went through your day slowly, not wanting to rush into it for fear of your nerves getting to you. By the time you were finished scrubbing yourself clean, you were left with sufficient time to get ready and head to the Lee’s estate.

Your family driver drove you to the party and you spent the majority of the ride stuck in your head, fiddling with the rings you had slipped on. You look downwards and gaze at your wrist, where a simple chained bracelet sits. The thought of wearing the watch Donghyuck gifted you had crossed your mind but you weren’t sure if you wanted him to notice you tonight.

“Y/N?” You’re startled out of your daze by your family driver. He turns in his seat, sporting a deep frown on his face. “Y/N, are you unwell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure because I can take you back home and–”

You cut in, “I am fine. I promise. I just had my mind elsewhere.”

The frown on his face loosens and he nods, respecting your wishes. “I’ll bring the car around at midnight but if you wish to stay here longer, or wish to leave earlier, do call me.”

You smile, grateful for the loyalty of your family’s employees. “Got it.”

Your hand reaches for the car door when your family driver hurriedly adds, “I think Mr Lee will be pleased to see you tonight.”

“What?”

“You are stunning. Even a mask cannot hide your brilliance and he would be a fool not to know that.”

It was what you needed to hear, a firm push to get you out of the car and into the party. You tied your mask onto your face and gathered your handful of belongings in your hands. Security and a staff checks your party invite and you hand over your gift at the entrance hall before being escorted into the main room.

You hadn’t known what to expect but Mrs Lee’s party planning blew your expectations out of the water. Waiters walk around the room with a tray of drinks and by the corner, there’s a buffet table with an assortment of sweet treats.

A masked stranger walks up to you, stealing your attention away from the party decor. “Fine evening Miss.”

You awkwardly smile, thankful to be able to hide behind your mask. “Hi. You don’t have to be formal with me.”

His laughter is warm, a low timbre that is surprisingly pleasant. “I’m sorry. I guess I got nervous given the fact that half of the room is looking at you.”

Confusion clouds over your eyes. “Me? You probably meant us.”

He shakes his head. “You,” he repeats with more emphasis.

Slowly, you look around the room and notice the crowd has grown bigger during the time of your conversation. Maybe the masks serves as a shield for everyone tonight. People barely shy away from your gaze, comfortable to watch you from afar behind the safety of a mask. Your skin prickles uncomfortably and your smile grows tight. “I dont understand.”

The lights in the room brightens up and the murmur of the crowd increases. Donghyuck enters, gliding into the room. “Come on,” the kind stranger beckons and you follow, the two of you moving through the crowd to get closer to Donghyuck.

He’s donned a silky blouse in a shade of baby blue. The blouse leaves little to no imagination, a bold opening at his chest and the strings were barely tied together. His trousers are just as tight. You kept your gaze on his mask. It’s intricately designed and it helps distracts you from your wandering thoughts.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight. My parents, who aren’t here tonight, bestowed this party onto me for my twenty first.” Donghyuck pauses and the crowd chuckle. “However, I am thankful for the overwhelming turn out. I want to keep it short and sweet. I wish everyone has an enjoyable night." Anyone who was holding a drink raised their glasses in the air, toasting to Donghyuck's speech. You watch him as he smoohtly downed a flute of bubbly. The ones nearest to him hoots and hollers at his bravado, some even patting him on the shoulder.

The crowd had disperesed but your gaze remains on Donghyuck's figure as you finally piece your thoughts together. This man is a stranger to you, just as much as you are a stranger to him.

A soft touch to your arm pulls you away from your thoughts. You look at your companion who was patiently waiting for you. "Do you mind if you were to keep me company tonight?"

Seeing as how you have yet to find Yizhou, you accept his kind invite. You offer him your hand and he gladly accepts it. "I'm Jung Sungchan, by the way."

You vaguely remember hearing his name in passing though you cannot recall his face. "And I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

His face brightens, probably with recogniton but he doesn't press on about your identity which you are glad for. "Have you taken a proper look around the room?" Sungchan asks you and you shake your head. He breaks out into a wide grin, almost conspiratorial. "I'll show you which dishes to avoid."

The night takes a pleasant turn. You and Sungchan tried various food and drinks, stuck in your own bubble and genuinely enjoying each others company. You find out that Sungchan used to play soccer with Donghyuck in the little leauges, a past time you hadn't known Donghyuck had gotten involved with. In exchange, you tell Sungchan that you're Donghyuck's distant family friend.

His company was much needed and you hadn’t realised it. Sungchan makes you laugh when he breaks out dance moves that mismatch the beat of the song. Sungchan makes you laugh when he spins you around on the dance floor. Sungchan makes you laugh when he properly showcases his dance skills.

“You are such a fucking liar!” You yell over the music. Your tongue is looser than your usual poised self. Thanks to the unsupervised crowd, the two of you shared several glasses of alcoholic drinks. Now, the alcohol courses through your veins, leaving you a little unguarded. “You can dance! Hell! You probably invented dance!”

Sungchan chuckles and gently pulls you in. “You are drunk. Let’s get you some water.”

You reluctantly follow him, letting Sungchan pull you through the throng of partygoers. He stops in front of Donghyuck, quickly greeting him.

“Hyung! Happy birthday!” Sungchan greets.

Donghyuck looks at Sungchan then at the masked girl standing close to his back. Their fingers are loosely wrapped together and Donghyuck smirks. “Picking up a girl at my birthday party?”

“What? No!” Sungchan insists. “Y/N’s tipsy. Or drunk? Either way, I’m bringing her out for some fresh air. We’ll be back though!”

He takes a proper look and recognition dawns over him. “Y/N?” Donghyuck’s confusion gets drowned by the noise. Sungchan successfully pulls you through the crowd and you two disappear from Donghyuck’s sight. He belatedly notes that you didn’t acknowledge him. A sudden heaviness weighs on his chest as he realises that you’re at his party, spending time with his close friend.

Outside, you take in a deep breath. Sungchan had guided you into the Lee’s estates gardens. It felt like you had stumbled into a forgotten memory having been ages since you had last stepped foot in there.

You undo the tie of your mask and blindly toss it onto the bench behind you. Sungchan does the same. He chuckles, amused by your drunken behaviour. “Do you know who I am?”

You open your eyes and look at him. “Surprisingly, I do and I am drunk.” You decidedly plop down on the empty bench.

“Can you stay put? I need to go back in and get you some refreshments, maybe scavenge for whatever snacks there are left.”

“Okay but while you’re at it, can you find Yizhou and bring her to me?”

Your request is silly, you don’t even know if Sungchan knew her but Sungchan indulges in it. “Sure. I’ll be back.” Sungchan spins on his heels and takes his leave.

For lack of better things to do, you begin riffling through your purse. You take your time to fix your makeup then unlocking your phone to take some selfies. After a series of blurry pictures, you give up and start taking pictures of the garden.

“What are you doing?” The unexpected interruption causes you to let out a shrill scream, nearly dropping your phone in the process. You turn to glare at your intruder. Donghyuck is standing at the end of the bench, staring at you unapologetically.

“What the hell,” you cussed instead of answering his question.

He wordlessly offers you a mug. It’s nothing like the fancy glassware that is being used at the party. Your eyes narrow in suspicion. Donghyuck sighs deeply. “It’s warm water. I heard you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not.” You say rather petulantly as you accept the drink. “Thanks,” you quickly mutter before taking a sip.

Without your invite, Donghyuck settles down into the empty space beside you and you glare at him again. He merely ignores your childish reaction.

The warm water helps and gives you a little clarity but you don’t want to admit it out loud to Donghyuck so you remain silent, clutching the mug close to your chest. You decided to keep your gaze straight ahead, focusing on a bush of roses.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” He quietly admits after some time.

“Of course I did. We’re still friends even though we haven’t acted like one in a long time.” You replied, equally as quiet.

The obvious distance between you two can no longer be ignored. You can’t help but ask. “Why did we stop being friends?”

Donghyuck surprises you. “I guess I wanted to see if I could be a big boy and live my life without you circling in it. Make my own choices instead of trying to live the life everyone wants for me.”

The corner of your lips twitches, partly amused by his raw honesty. “And are you doing well?”

You turn to look over at Donghyuck and you note the dozens of emotions swimming in his eyes. He seems lost and your heart aches for him.

“No, I am not.” Donghyuck shakes his head, “I am not worthy of you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches. You’re instantly sobered up. Even without explicitly saying it, you know what Donghyuck is referring to. You feign ignorance. “What are you on about?”

“Y/N… You are a remarkable woman. Don’t get tied down to me. You deserve a chance to find someone else, meet other people. Anyone you end up marrying would be lucky enough to have you as their partner.” Donghyuck chooses his words wisely, deliberately rejecting you before you’ve even gotten a chance to try.

“And so? You want me to marry someone else just because you’re insecure?” Your words sting Donghyuck and he visibly flinches away from you, seeking comfort in the distance between you two.

“That’s not it,” he tries again but you’re not having it. “Then what is it Donghyuck?” You ask, exasperated by his confusing nature.

“It’s not fair because neither of us has a say in this marriage agreement.”

You shakily inhale. “Does the fact that I want you scares you?”

Your heart lurches to the bottom of your stomach. His silence is deafening, a reply in itself. You turn your head away from him, refusing to let Donghyuck see the beginnings of a breakdown surfacing onto your face.

“Donghyuck, I didn’t come here tonight to beg for your attention. I only came because I was intrigued by the fact that I had received an invitation. Whether it was your decision or your parents, I don’t care anymore. You don’t want me here? Fine, I’ll leave but you terribly confuse me. Why did you come here to take care of me at your own party? Why did you tell me not to leave? Why did you dance with me and kiss me on the cheek only to run off? Why did you get me an expensive gift and a handwritten card for my birthday just to ignore me? I don’t get it.”

Donghyuck’s mouth parts open to say something, anything, but the words are caught at the back of his throat. He’s never seen you this devastated before and he is the cause of it. Your high strung emotions had finally snapped and it came out pouring out of your mouth, no longer able to push it down.

You abruptly stood up from the bench. “At least now I know what you think of me. I am just a burden from your past and I’ll stay there. I will get out of your way.”

Every step away from Donghyuck hurt more than you’d like to admit it. You wanted to look back at him. You wanted him to chase after you. You wanted him to comfort you.

You’re so caught up in your greed and hurt that you don’t notice two figures hiding behind the nearest pillar. A clothed hand reaches out and pulls you into their hiding spot. You recognise Yizhou through your blurry vision. “Ning,” you manage to croak out before bursting into tears.

Yizhou pulls you into a comforting embrace and Sungchan moves, covering you with his broad figure. Your heartbreaking cries are loud enough for anyone nearby to hear but you couldn’t care less. You fail to notice Donghyuck standing a couple of metres from the three of you, an anguished look on his face. Sungchan glares menacingly at him and Yizhou fixes him with a look of disappointment.

Donghyuck returns to the kitchen through the staff entrance, mug in one hand and your masquerade mask in another. He is too dazed and he doesn’t notice the whispering staffs as he passes through the house, decidedly ditching his own party. Donghyuck carefully places your mask on his nightstand before falling into bed, recounting the night before everything went wrong with you.

Life moved on, making it feel as though nothing had changed between the two of you. You had no idea what ran through his mind and decided that it was not worth fixating on. Again, you grew up without him by your side. You went off to college and moved out of your parent’s place much to your mother’s dismay. There was still one thing in your life that she could control which was your marriage prospects.

Over the years, the Lee’s hadn’t hinted any change in uniting your families in matrimony and you had no interest in finding a prospective marriage of your own. It is the only reason why you allow your mother to meddle.

One day, your livelihood had changed under the guise of your monthly family dinner. Instead of your usual spot, your parents told you to meet at a fine dining restaurant nestled in the heart of the city. Your clothes were rumpled from running around campus the whole day. You were sure that your hair had lost its curls over the course of the day.

“Y/N? You wore this the whole day?” Her thinly veiled judgment was not out of the ordinary but your suspicions should have been raised when she subtly spoke with the hostess.

Too bad you hadn’t noticed because your father was speaking with you. He brushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. “You look beautiful. Your mother is just on edge tonight.”

“For what?” You frown as the two of you trailed behind your mother.

“We have guests tonight.”

Before you could press him for more answers, the hostess stops in front of a pair of sliding doors. You have no choice but to brace yourself for whoever is waiting behind those doors.

The door slides open, revealing a married couple and their son. “Please come in! We’re so glad you could make it to dinner.” Mrs Lee says.

Your parents naturally step forward into the room, greeting their friends. You wish to stay rooted in your spot but the hostess is looking at you funny. You slightly bow to them and make your way inside, standing closely to your parents.

“You remember Y/N?” Your father asked the Lee’s.

“Of course!” Mrs Lee answers. You offer her a shy smile and she returns it by enthusiastically pulling you down into a warm hug. Mrs Lee, just like your parents, had grown too old for socialising at year end parties. Your generation had taken over the scene which meant that the last time you had met the Lee’s was over five years ago. She still wore the same perfume and you relaxed into the hug, now wearing a genuine smile on your face.

Mrs Lee lets you go and you turn to greet Mr Lee. “Thank you for the invite Mr Lee.”

He casually waved you off. “No need for the formalities. You seem like you’re doing well, Y/N.”

“I am. I hope you are doing well.”

From behind, you heard Donghyuck’s voice. “Mr Y/L/N. Mrs Y/L/N. It’s so great to see you again.”

You finally turn towards him. While your mother showers him with compliments, you stay silent, observing Donghyuck. He smiles and laughs appropriately, even bantering back with your mother.

Mr Lee addresses the room. “Let’s settle down. We’ll catch up over the courses.”

The elders easily settle into their seats which leaves you no choice but to sit next to your father, the seat that is directly across from Donghyuck’s. You keep your gaze down.

After the first course is served, conversation picks up amongst the elders. You keep your reactions to yourself and train yourself not to react whenever Donghyuck speaks.

Mr Lee changes the flow of the conversation. “And Y/N, are you in your final year of college?”

You lift your head and look directly at Mr Lee before replying. “Yes. I came from school. I was writing my dissertation and consulting with my professor.”

Mrs Lee chuckles. “You’re so hardworking. I don’t even remember Donghyuck working this hard during his final years of college.”

The table laughs and Donghyuck says, “Knowing Y/N, she’s probably working ten times harder than necessary. I am not lazy. Y/N is just an overachiever.”

Donghyuck is already staring at you when you bring your gaze over to him. Your eyes are clouded, a stark contrast to the practiced smile that has graced your face. Your mother swoons. “That’s our Y/N. You still know her well.”

A ghost of a smile appears on his face. “I had great memories with you.”

It’s terribly awkward and you are all too aware of the adults listening in on your conversation. “We did. How could I ever forget my childhood companion.” You say and quickly take a sip of your drink, desperate to end the interaction between you two.

Thankfully the next course is being brought in and you channel your focus onto the waiter clearing your dishes. The door slides shut and Mrs Lee speaks up. “It is good that you kids go way back. It does make your future look promising.”

The elders exchange furtive glances, leaving you and Donghyuck in the dark. Luckily, Donghyuck is impatient enough to ask them the million dollar question. “What future?”

Mr Lee places a reassuring hand over Mrs Lee’s. He turns to look at his son for a second, before turning over to you. “The two of you are to be wedded.”

It feels like all of the air has been knocked out of you. You’re almost certain that you heard wrong but the sound of Donghyuck’s chair dragging across the floor confirms that your present situation was real. Donghyuck stands, taking the cloth and throwing it into his seat.

“I wish to be excused.” He’s out the door before you even realise it. Tension hangs over the room upon his departure. You’re baffled by the way Donghyuck had chosen to flee the scene, leaving you alone at a time of crisis. Hurt blooms in your chest but you tamper it down.

You face Mr and Mrs Lee, putting on your practiced smile. “I am honoured that you think so highly of me. Thank you for your generous consideration but clearly this will not work out.”

“It’s already been decided.” Mrs Lee states.

A blank expression takes over your face before you could stop yourself. You hear your mother force out a laugh. “After decades, you still hold onto our promise. Your family is loyal and we are grateful.”

Your father adds on. “Thank you for accepting Y/N as your daughter.”

The elders are back in good spirits, raising their glasses for a toast. Meanwhile, your clouded gaze darts over the empty space in front of you, wondering the outcome of your shared fate.

His rejection is still fresh in your mind. It replays on loop without your consent, distracting you from your priorities. The sting that has long been associated with Donghyuck’s name returns but this time, there’s extra pressure pressing onto your chest. Your pride is bruised by the fact that your chance has been taken away from you again. Donghyuck hadn’t even given you a second thought before storming out of the room.

Were you really that unappealing to him after all these years? You weren’t madly in love with him anymore but the impact is still as painful as it once was.

You didn’t want to tell Yizhou or any of your cousins so you called up your last option.

“Y/N! What’s up?” Sungchan greets you.

The only positive outcome from that particular memory was your friendship with Sungchan. He quickly got over his initial crush on you and the two of you forged a strong friendship. Your mother had attempted to make you two a couple but you firmly stopped her each time.

You sit up from your bed. “Hey, are you busy?”

“Not really. I’m running right now.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re crazy.” Sungchan laughs and you continue, “I need to talk. Can you find somewhere to sit?”

After a brief pause, Sungchan returns to the call. “Okay, I’m ready.”

You take a deep breath. There’s no easy way to break the news. “I’m getting married to Lee Donghyuck.” A beat of silence passes through and you begin to worry about Sungchan’s wellbeing. “Hello?”

“No, I’m still here. Sorry I just– What?” Sungchan stumbles over his words. Normally you would laugh and tease him but the situation is too grave for you to crack a smile.

“Yeah. I got ambushed yesterday by both my parents and his parents. He was there too.”

Sungchan quietly asked, “And he accepted you?”

The sting of rejection returns but you keep your voice levelled. “No. He stormed out of the meeting. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Sungchan makes a noise of frustration and cusses. “What a fucking asshole. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I need to tell somebody before all hell breaks loose.” You brush your hair through your hands, already imagining the widespread effect of your marriage announcement. Yizhou would fly back to Seoul in a matter of hours.

“Okay. Just keep me updated, yeah?”

You nodded. “Of course. Thanks Sungchan.”

The call ends and you drop your phone onto your bed, watching it bounce around. Despite your tarnished history with Donghyuck, getting married to him is the best outcome for your family’s wellbeing. You’re capable of compartmentalising your feelings but you can’t say the same for Donghyuck.

Worry etched onto your face. You throw yourself into your fluffy pillows, smothering your face in it while letting out a frustrated scream. Whatever it is that Donghyuck throws your way, you must overcome it.

You did not know whether to be worried or amused. You had walked into your apartment lobby, surprised by the sight of Donghyuck in the lounge area. He looks up from his iPad when he hears the doorman greeting you.

“Finally,” Donghyuck mutters as he gathers his belongings. From the looks of it, he had set up a makeshift office in the lobby. You come to a stop in front of him, the front of your shoes narrowly touching his.

“What are you doing?”

“I came here to find you. We need to talk.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who stormed out before we got the chance to talk.”

The security guard behind the counter looks on curiously, wondering if he should intervene. Donghyuck closes his eyes to compose himself. “I am sorry.”

“Thank you.” You said and then turned your back on him, strutting towards the lift.

You can hear Donghyuck scrambling and you smile to yourself. “Wait!”

The security guard reaches you first, putting distance between you and Donghyuck. “Ms Y/L/N, is this man harassing you?”

“Ha– Harass?” Donghyuck sputtered out as if he couldn't even fathom the idea of him causing trouble. “No, I am not a harasser!”

The security guard throws a cold look at his direction and Donghyuck shrinks slightly. The lift arrives and you make your decision.

“Come with me Donghyuck. This is your only chance.” You announce. The security guard seemed reluctant to let Donghyuck near you but you gently assure him, thanking him for his service. The ride up is silent much to your surprise. You walk ahead of Donghyuck and he trails behind you, like a dog with his tail tucked behind his legs.

It feels oddly natural to have Donghyuck follow you into your apartment. He lined his shoes beside your shoe rack in a neat manner and you passed him a clean pair of house slippers to put on. As you make your way into your apartment, Donghyuck marvels quietly at the decorations on display. Upon entering your living room, you hear the unmistakable sound of the camera going off and you stop to turn around. He looks guilty but he clutches his phone tightly.

“What did you do?” You try to intimidate him.

“Just getting some inspiration.” He lies.

You take a step closer to Donghyuck, an attempt at asserting dominance. “This is your first and last time here. Now, spit out whatever it is that brought you here in the first place.”

Donghyuck pockets his phone. “Here’s the deal. I can’t marry someone who hates me.”

“I am lukewarm about you, at most.” You deadpanned.

He gives you an unimpressed look. “There’s no way you don’t hate me. Are you sure you haven’t submitted my name to an Etsy witch?”

“My life stopped revolving around you for a long time now. You’re good.” The tips of Donghyuck’s ears redden at the implication of your words but you maintain your nonchalant stance. “This marriage would be good for my family and if you really detest it then take it up with your parents, not me.”

Donghyuck frowns. “Did you plant the idea in my parents head?” His tone is accusatory which causes you to snort mockingly.

“I haven’t spoken to your parents in ages. Find someone else to blame your misery on.”

It’s written on his face, the way Donghyuck doesn’t seem satisfied with his findings. He sighs heavily and his shoulders sink into his figure. A tired man remains standing in his place and you almost feel sympathetic for him. Almost, if not for the fact that he has been trying to pin the blame for your shared situation entirely on you.

You gently comb your hair back with your hands as you speak up, “I am not going to beg for you to marry me but just know that I will not fight against anything. Not marrying you is a bigger loss to me. I hope you know where I stand.”

Donghyuck meets your gaze, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Is it really that easy?” He asks. His question surprises you but you try your best to conceal your shock.

“Yes.” The air in the room shifts and it was at that moment you knew that you could only keep up with the act of lying to yourself for a little longer. Impending doom lingers in the air but you ignore it and usher Donghyuck out of your life, for now.

The days leading up to your engagement ceremony was emotionally bearable but the day itself was bad enough to dampen your spirits. Your engagement was a quiet affair, as if your relationship was meant to be kept under wraps from the public eye. Whether it was up to Donghyuck or his parents, you don’t know but it didn’t matter because your own feelings were never considered in the first place.

It’s an odd experience to finally get engaged to Donghyuck. His best friends keep a polite distance from you, looking at you as if you were some stranger barging into their lives and not Donghyuck’s childhood best friend. Your own family were scattered in the hall based on a seating chart created by your future mother in-law. At least from your seat, you could easily see Yizhou and Sungchan three tables away from yours. You stuck out your tongue playfully to silently express your gratitude.

Your father had prepared a speech, bringing you to tears and the crowd cooed at you, warmed by your reaction. Much to your surprise, Donghyuck gets up from the seat beside yours and takes the microphone from your father. The room quietens and the attention shifts onto your fiancé, yours included.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight. Thank you to my father and future father in-law for the speeches,” he pauses with a light laugh. His gaze sweeps around the room as he resumes his speech, “I am glad to share this momentous occasion with all of our loved ones. As much as I want to keep it brief for everyone, I also want to make it memorable for Y/N. I don’t know where our future will take us but I am willing to build a forever with you.”

Your face burns as the whole room looks at you again. You stare ahead at Donghyuck, a strong mix of emotions riding in your chest nearly breaking your composure. Knowing that everyone was waiting for your reaction, you settled on blowing Donghyuck a kiss. The room bursts into cheers when Donghyuck catches it.

The dinner carries on smoothly but there is an unspoken tension stringing between the supposedly happy couple. Your moves were controlled and you kept your physical touches to a minimum. It took every ounce of effort to not tug harshly on Donghyuck’s arm when you slid your hand into his. Your fingers were loosely wrapped around his arm, barely clinging onto the fabric of his suit. The facade you had on cracked as soon as you stepped into his car.

The engine revs to life and your seat belt clicks into place. “Why’d you do that?” You accuse him.

Donghyuck furrows his brows. “What?”

You match his annoyance. “You heard me.”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “My parents told me to make a speech.”

“And you dedicated it to me?”

“Why are you mad at me? I thought this was what you wanted? I thought you wanted to marry me?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I do but why are you starting our marriage with empty promises! Building a forever with me? If you wanted to lie and perform you should have just gone all the way and said ‘I love you’ to seal the deal.” You rolled your eyes.

He scoffs in retaliation. “Seriously? And what about you and your fake kiss?” It was a pointless bicker but Donghyuck’s anger still rose, causing him to heavily breathe out of his nose. His hand on the wheel tenses.

“Everyone was expecting something from me because of you.” You punctuate the end of the sentence, every word hitting him heavily.

A pause fills the space between you two, every ticking moment ringing loudly in your ear. Donghyuck says, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

The engagement band on Donghyuck’s finger glimmers as the streetlights pass through the car windows. The overwhelming feelings from before return and your stomach clenches. Your voice weakens. “I want you to be real in our marriage.”

The car falls silent again and the only sound comes from the traffic outside. You don’t know if Donghyuck had heard you and you’re too prideful to repeat yourself so you remain silent, waiting for him. The car slows to a stop in front of a red light and Donghyuck’s breathing evens out.

“Tell me nicely next time instead of starting a fight, will you?” Your heart jolts at his unexpected reaction. “We could start by setting some boundaries. I was serious about my speech, Y/N. Let’s not make this any more difficult.”

His kept his voice was low and firm. The soft thrum of the engine keeps you calm as you process Donghyuck’s words. It sounds like he’s compromising with you based on the circumstances of your situation. They seem sincere enough for you to believe even though it’s unexpected of him. When Donghyuck drives into your apartment, you gather up your senses to apologise.

“I am sorry,” you loudly confess. Your eyes are cast downwards. The engagement band on your own finger is too hard to ignore at a time like this. “If you have time, you can come up and we can discuss such boundaries.” Your voice trails off at the end.

“I can’t.” Your gaze snaps towards his face, a small frown on display. “Not today but maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You nod but remain seated in place. Now that it was time to leave, you find yourself wanting to stay with him longer. All fight has left you and the newfound peace is inviting as ever. You don’t know if you’ll be able to maintain it with him.

“Y/N,” Donghyuck says before he’s leaning in across the console, his lips lightly brushing against your cheek. You go completely still. “Text me when you’re in your apartment.”

You blindly reach for the door, seatbelt still strapped in and you can see Donghyuck giggling at you from your peripheral view. You glare at him and unbuckle yourself, tearing the passenger door opening and jumping out of the car. Donghyuck has the cheek to unwind the window, revealing a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“I’m leaving. See you tomorrow I think,” you announce as you spin on your heel and the echoes of Donghyuck’s laughter ring from behind you.

When you’re kicking your shoes off, you unzip your bag to take your phone out. You click on your chat with Donghyuck and send a simple thumbs up emoji. The message receipt changes immediately but you don’t get a response. Donghyuck clearly is still a menace who enjoys teasing you. You lock your phone and go about your night, ignoring the way your heart seems to race at the thought of your fiancé.

You hadn’t planned far enough.

While you knew you were getting married to Donghyuck, you still hadn’t made up your mind on whether you should fall in love with him again or protect your own heart. There’s a constant war of push and pull within you and you are not ready to let your pride down. Whenever you find yourself feeling the tiny bit giddy about Donghyuck, you immediately reel yourself in and remind yourself that your marriage will be built on camaraderie, not romance. Boundaries, rules, protocols. These were not norms of a couple romantically involved.

A soft knock on your workspace door interrupts your flow of thoughts and you look up to find Donghyuck sticking his head through the door. You slightly close your laptop to give him your attention.

“Wanna eat?” Donghyuck simply asks, holding a lunchbox above his head.

You quickly tidy up your work desk and Donghyuck makes himself comfortable, singing under his breath as he unpacks the contents of his lunchbox. You catch the melody of his favourite song. It sounds sweeter when he’s singing it.

The table is filled with comforting side dishes and your mouth waters at the sight of it. He saves the final box, pushing it towards the centre and cheekily glances over at you. “Hope you’re hungry because this is going to blow your mind.”

What Donghyuck doesn’t know is that you have been eating less than usual in the past week. You could barely count a banana and multiple cups of coffee as a meal but it was enough to keep you powered through your reports. Your stomach grumbles loudly, the savoury scent of chilli oil and chicken broth infiltrating your senses. Donghyuck had made steamed dumplings.

“Tada! The viral lasagne dumplings. All for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. I ate the first batch at home. It was too good to pass on.”

You quietly raised your brows as you picked up a clean set of chopsticks. He’s watching you intently, hands tucked under his chin and his elbows are resting on the table. You ignore him and focus on the food.

“Is it good?” He asks. You’re frowning as you chew. Looks like you found another unfair quality Donghyuck upholds, his ability to cook.

Your frown deepens. “This is amazing.”

Donghyuck laughs. His glasses slip from the bridge of his nose as he throws his head back. “You look so angry but you’re actually happy with my cooking.”

“This is my happy face,” you tell him.

“Right,” he shakes his head fondly and pushes the side dishes closer to you. “Eat up.”

You had thought your meal would be filled with endless chatter from Donghyuck’s end but a phone call suddenly takes over his attention. He stands at the edge of the table, phone in hand as his body leans against the table for support. You sit through your meal taking peeks at him and scrolling on your phone, catching familiar words but not fully grasping the situation. Your name is mentioned a few times followed by some hush remarks.

“Can’t you and Jeno lead the meeting? What do you even need me there for?” A tight expression draws upon your fiancé’s face. His eyes meet yours and you see a flash of anger in it. You quickly cast your eyes downwards and feign ignorance. “I’ll see you in twenty.”

The room is expectantly silent and you break it by sending him away. “Go. Whatever it is, it needs your attention.”

You’re not looking at him. You keep yourself busy by cleaning up the table. Donghyuck exhales. “I’ll see you around.”

Your will is stronger than expected. As he takes his leave, you make sure not to look at him. Donghyuck’s grip on the door falters and you don’t even notice. The door falls shut and tension in your body releases. You could hardly comprehend what had transpired between the two of you but you knew better than to let Donghyuck in. It’s clear that you will not be a priority to him and you will treat him the same.

As soon as the investors left the table, Donghyuck slumped into the seat. Chenle glared at him. All the niceness at the table had dissipated along with their investors.

“We almost didn’t close the deal because you’re distracted.” Chenle coldly remarked.

Donghyuck cocks his head. “You got what you wanted. Why complain?”

Jeno shakes his head. “We know you have a lot of things going on at home but Donghyuck, we need your one hundred percent commitment. Not unless you want this endeavour of ours to fall apart.”

Donghyuck takes a swig of his drink. The burn of the alcohol smoothly slides down his throat. Chenle challenges, “Are you done playing house?”

“Chenle,” Jeno says warningly.

“You’re letting Y/N cloud your priorities. Leaving work early just to see her? Hanging around a college campus to see her? Trying to ditch an investor’s meeting? Dude, it’s an arranged marriage. Why are you trying so hard? Stop wasting time–”

“I’ll have to stop you right there. You guys don’t know the full story because I choose to keep some information to myself.” Donghyuck straightens up and leans forward, maintaining a steady gaze on his friend’s faces. “Talk shit about me all you want but not my marriage and definitely not Y/N. I don’t care how unhappy you are with me. That is not an excuse.”

Chenle dryly scoffs. “Sure. Fine. I’m sorry for that.”

“Thank you.” Donghyuck nods. His shoulders drop and he offers them a small smile. “I’ll try to be more proactive. Just bear with me a little. Y/N’s important to me.”

Chenle and Jeno share a silent look, Jeno wordlessly urging the younger to tone down his anger towards Donghyuck with a raise of a brow. Chenle sighs and waves a hand in the air. “You get one more chance to talk about Y/N for tonight and that will be the last!”

Donghyuck’s face splits into a wide smile as he leans forward. “Have I told you guys about the time when we went on a holiday to her family’s ski lodge?”

The past few years for Donghyuck had been a blur. While you went on to make a future for yourself, Donghyuck had found himself stuck in the past.

By the time he tried to put a name on his feelings, time had passed and the distance between you two had grown wider than before. He did not know how to cross it, if you would even let him shorten the gap just for him to offer up an apology. Ignoring your existence was easier than reaching out to you.

When his parents had hinted that they were arranging a marriage for him, he wasn’t all too happy but he conceded with their decision. His life was never his to begin with even though his heart longed for yours.

Maybe Donghyuck was naive or maybe he didn’t want to accept the truth when you walked into the room. He let his polished persona take over to distract himself from his impending panic. You hated him. You wouldn’t even look him in the eye and Donghyuck can’t blame you. After all, he had inflicted hurt upon you. Donghyuck can tell from the hardened gaze you throw his way and your closed off body language that you wanted nothing more than to run off from the dinner meeting.

The pretense of the meeting had unveiled itself. Ultimately, his father uttered the words that would trigger his fight or flight instincts. Donghyuck stupidly fled the scene. Tears clouded his visions as he fumbled with the car handle. The girl who had once loved him, the same girl who got hurt by his avoidant nature is now betrothed to him. What a horrible twist of fate.

Donghyuck took a strangled breath in and collected his emotions, at least enough for him to drive to Mark. Aside from Yizhou and Sungchan, Mark was the only other person who knew of the tragic end of your friendship. His hands are shaking but he manages to connect Mark to his car speakers.

“Mark hyung,” Donghyuck rasps out.

“Yo, shit?” Mark immediately replies. “What’s wrong?”

Donghyuck restlessly drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Are you home?”

“Yeah.” He presses harder on the pedal. “I’m coming over.”

Mark wordlessly led a tear-stricken Donghyuck into his living room. He came back with a mug of warm water but it remained untouched by Donghyuck. Mark sits upright in his own chair, observing his best friend. “What happened?”

Donghyuck opens his mouth to try and speak but the words don’t come out. His tongue darts out as he sighs heavily. “I’m getting married to Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t deserve her. I never did. I never will. I am total fuck up.”

Mark frowns. “Wait. This whole time your parents were set on getting you two together?”

“Turns out the future partner they were looking for me had always been there. Y/N.” Donghyuck laughs dryly at the circumstances of his life. He threads his fingers through his hair, channeling his frustration into messing his hair. “I’m so afraid that she’ll resent me even more. I realised my feelings for her too late. I did not even try to understand my feelings. I did not want to fall into the expectations surrounding us. I thought I could choose my own destiny but our fates were always going to be entangled. I was too foolish to grasp that.”

Mark stays silent as he allows Donghyuck’s words to sink in. He tilts his head thoughtfully. “Did Y/N say outright that she hates you?”

“No.”

“Then why are you adamant that Y/N hates you?”

“I see it in her eyes.” Donghyuck firmly says. “We have spent so much time apart in our formative years. We are basically different people now. I feel so inadequate to be her lifelong companion. People don’t get it. She doesn’t get it.”

Mark, ever so earnest, grows frustrated with his best friend’s stubbornness. “To be frank, I don’t get why you’re having an inferiority complex over Y/N. You are doing great things at your father’s company and your own independent business as well. The name you are building for yourself is remarkable. What more could impress Y/N?”

Donghyuck throws a hand in the air. “Maybe an emotionally intelligent guy who doesn’t suppress his emotions.”

“Then be that man!” Mark urges him. He stands up and walks over to Donghyuck. “Go and initiate things with her. Make things better between you two. Let it start with you.”

“You really think I can do that?” Donghyuck asks him in a small voice.

Mark grins encouragingly. “Sitting around here and moping about the girl you love is not enough. Go chase after her.”

Donghyuck feels his heart thudding in his chest, a surge of hope coasting through his body. “Well, maybe not today. I am kinda burnt out from this rollercoaster of emotions.” He says lightheartedly.

And so he tries because in spite of your strong demeanour, he can feel the gap between you two bridging slowly. You entertained his small talks with wordless gestures such as a quirk of your lip or twitch of an eye. You sent him an emoji every time you made it home after a meeting with him and his parents. And ever since the engagement ceremony, your dynamics have settled into a comfortable pace, similar to a partnership between two business partners.

Your boundaries had been laid out for him and Donghyuck feels hopeful about your marriage. He hadn’t realised how much his friends disapprove of your presence in his life until that dinner experience. If only everyone knew how Donghyuck treats you with utmost care because he wants to make it up to you for hurting you all those years ago. It wasn’t just him that was holding onto that memory. Donghyuck can still recall the curt smile Sungchan gave him at the engagement ceremony, obviously still holding a grudge against him.

The indifference you show him is subtle to others but Donghyuck can read you even after all those years apart. You barely show any reaction to his quips and your facial features are controlled to reveal just a fraction of emotions. He silently cusses Jeno and Chenle out for causing the setback in his progress.

You two are having dinner at the Lee’s estate. You’re seated on his left hand side, ever so poised and mannered. You only muttered one word replies to Donghyuck since he picked you up from your apartment. His mother leads the conversation and Donghyuck is grateful for that.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but your friends are Jung Sungchan and Ning Yizhou?” She suddenly asks.

You nod your head as confirmation. “Yes, why? Is there anything wrong?”

Mrs Lee laughs cordially. “Nothing wrong. It’s just that for a while, before we approached your parents about your marriage, we were all under the impression that you were being courted by Jung Sungchan.”

Donghyuck tenses. He remembers his mother prodding him about you and Sungchan and he mindlessly waved her off. It was pretty known that you two were close friends and it was natural for speculation to arise. He himself had believed in them at one point.

You nearly choke on your bite of food. Donghyuck panics and passes you your glass of water which you graciously accepted. “No. Not once have we ever been involved. I can assure you,” you say after collecting yourself.

“It’s not me you have to assure,” Mrs Lee finishes off with a hearty laugh.

Donghyuck doesn’t miss the crack in your composure, the side glance casted in his direction as he stares at the interesting patterns on the ceramic plate.

His parents retire to their room and only the two of you remain. You finish the last of your dessert, gracefully dabbing your napkin on your lips. Donghyuck had been unexpectedly silent. He barely looked at you for the rest of the night. The elephant needed to be addressed. “You were worried about me and Sungchan?” You causally questioned him.

Donghyuck shyly raises his gaze to meet yours. “No.”

“No?” You echoed.

His eyes draw away from yours as he replies, “I mean, my mother was asking about you. I just told her what I thought– what everyone thought.”

“Which was?”

He looks at you almost pleadingly but you remain firm, wanting to hear him admit it out loud. Donghyuck concedes in a small voice. “You and Sungchan? Everyone thought you were involved.”

“And you were worried.” You reminded him, your tone was steadier compared to his.

“I– I was not. Intrigued? Maybe.” He stuttered out.

Clearly you were unconvinced. You smirk at his flustered expression, leaning comfortably into your seat. It was a sight to see Donghyuck embarrassed but the humour only lasted briefly. “Just so you know, nothing happened between me and him. Nothing will happen in the future. We’re bound to each other now.” You tell him, hoping you sound as sincere as possible.

He doesn’t give you a verbal answer but you can tell from his body language that he’s partly relieved. Donghyuck still looks at you with a heavy gaze, as if he’s thinking deeply about you while you’re seated inches away from him. You raise a brow at him, the most expression you’ve given him lately. He’s so transparent. You can see it on his face when he loses his internal battle.

“Y/N, do you remember those questions you asked me on my birthday?” Donghyuck quietly asks. Maybe it was meant to be a rhetorical question but the shift in mood made it hard for you to believe so. You nod stiffly. “I found the answer for it. I won’t tell you now but one day, I will.” His shoulders are squared like a soldier who’s ready to walk into battle. Suddenly, the gravity of his words hit you.

A promise? Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words. If you were understanding his vague statement, it would mean that Donghyuck had figured out what you meant to him. It sounds terrifying and you are slightly grateful that Donghyuck was willing to delay the conversation a little longer.

Even tossing and turning in bed didn’t help soothe your anxiety. You itched to ask him outright and revisit the conversation from that night but it is still too emotionally taxing for you to revisit it.

Instead, you let yourself focus on wedding planning. You frequently met up with your mother, future mother in law, fiancé and the wedding planner. It took up a good chunk of your attention which managed to keep your sanity at bay. You give a lot of input considering the fact that it’s the only time you’ll ever be wedded in this lifetime. You even managed to negotiate with the elders to find a bridal dressmaker of your choice. Slowly, your dream wedding came to life. You had the groom you had always wanted even though the circumstances were not ideal.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Yizhou eyed you warily.

The two of you were seated on the patio of a café, lined along the alleyway of hipster buildings. Yizhou was back in Seoul for business and you had barely managed to squeeze in a meet up with her. You caught her up with your stale love life and now she’s staring at you with apprehension.

You nod sagely. “I’ve accepted the truth long ago.”

“Do you still love him?”

You hum thoughtfully, carefully picking your words. “It’s hard to say honestly. He meant the world to me. I think Donghyuck will always leave a deep mark on me. As long as nothing romantic happens between us, I’ll be fine. My feelings for him will remain dormant.” His promise crosses your mind as you speak but you decided to ignore it, resolute in your own words and beliefs.

“But you’ll be married forever. How can you be so sure nothing changes between the two of you?” Yizhou had a valid point and you didn’t have a proper answer for it.

You offer her a shrug and a half-hearted grin. “I guess I’ll have to cross that bridge if I ever get there.”

Wedding planning has been going well. You were set to marry a week after your last submissions, a terribly packed period for you but one that worked in favour for both parties. It was right before the fourth quarter of the year which gave you a chance to be introduced as a wedded couple during year end celebrations.

You had been cooped up with your assignments all week long but your appearance was needed for the venue viewing. The grease in your hair had built up over time and you dragged yourself to the shower, indulging yourself to a relaxing hair wash. The most put together outfit you have worn this whole week was a stained sweatpants and a tattered concert tee.

You had just stepped out of the shower when your phone buzzed with a message from Donghyuck, notifying you of his arrival. You grimaced and you plucked your phone from your nightstand. You immediately called him.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, I need you to park. I just got out of the shower.”

Donghyuck feels his mouth go dry. “Hmm?”

“Just park by the side and tell the guards that you’re coming up.” You tell him as you stand in front of your closet, eyeing your options with your phone lazily positioned close to your face. Donghyuck has yet to disconnect the call and you can hear him making his way to you, a soothing constant sound you needed to fill your room.

The tale-tell sound of the lift lobby resounds through your phone. “I’m entering the lift,” Donghyuck mutters.

You grab a long sleeved dress and hurriedly pull it over your body. You still have to dry your hair and do your makeup. You were plugging in your hair dryer when Donghyuck spoke up again. “Hey, I’m outside your door.”

You rattled off your code without a second thought. From your room, you could hear the door being unlocked and his successful attempt to let himself in. “Y/N?” Donghyuck called out.

“In here!” You replied, knowing that you had left your door ajar.

Your heart thrums with anticipation but you keep yourself focused on your task at hand. A soft knock on the door followed by Donghyuck sticking his head through the door. It’s quite the sight and you find yourself staring at him through the mirror. You turn the hair dryer off.

“Come in,” you invited him.

He freezes for a second and you nodded encouragingly, coaxing him into entering your room. “I need ten more minutes.”

Donghyuck glances at his wrist. You guys would inevitably be late but Donghyuck doesn’t mind the wrath his mother might incur on him. “That’s okay,” he says as he stands in a random spot by the door. You can see the clear restraint on his face which makes you laugh.

You turn in your seat, looking him in the eyes. “You don’t have to stand there. You can sit on my bed or look around my room.”

Donghyuck pointed towards the bed for confirmation and you nodded. While you are occupied with your hair and makeup, Donghyuck sits on the edge of your bed, simply taking in the details of your room. Your bookshelf is filled with books of all kinds of genres. He squints at a dark red box by the shelf above your bed frame. It sits underneath a stack of DVDs, titles of albums he doesn’t recognise. There’s several other memorabilia like a figurine or a photo frame on the shelf. It’s soothing to be in your space and having your presence nearby. He can imagine it, a near future where he’s all moved in, sharing mundane moments with you. He wants it all.

“Okay, I’m done.” You announce, snapping Donghyuck out of his reverie. You finally get a proper look at Donghyuck and realise how your outfit complements his. There’s something dizzying about the way Donghyuck stared at you. You subconsciously fix your hair.

“Wow,” he mumbled.

Not wanting to be swayed by Donghyuck’s reaction, you choose to glare at him. “We’re late! Let’s go.”

He giggles, knowing that your glare has no real heat to it. You break out into a matching smile having given up on being serious. “Come on.”

Donghyuck was in a good mood. His phone was ringing with incoming messages from his mother and a call quickly came along. He gestured at you to pick it up, knowing that if his mother heard your voice, she would be kinder.

“Lee Donghyuck, where are you? Did you know we’re running twenty minutes behind schedule?”

You cringed but worked up the courage to answer. “Hey Mrs Lee, it’s Y/N. Donghyuck is driving.”

“Oh! Y/N,” Mrs Lee perks up. She laughs offhandedly, “My Donghyuck is a troublemaker. Are you okay?”

“Actually, I was the one who was running late. I am sorry but we’re nearby. I promise! I think we’re five minutes away?”

You glance over at Donghyuck for help and he chuckles, leaning over to speak into the microphone. “We’re ten minutes away. Just calm down and sip some wine.”

“Yah, Donghyuck.” Mrs Lee starts and your eyes widens, panic creeping in.

Donghyuck mouths, “Hang up. Now.”

You do as you are told and the car lapses into silence for a brief moment. You were the first one to burst into laughter, crouching forward in your seat, eyes tightly closed as all you can think of was Donghyuck feeding into your future mother-in-law's anger.

“What?” Donghyuck asks, a lilt to his voice. He has not seen you unpoised in so long. Your bright laughter and relaxed posture is rare to him.

“Nothing,” you finally say as you straighten yourself out. You shake your head almost fondly. “Nothing really.”

Your smile remains on your face which betrays your attempt at being composed. Donghyuck sneaks a glance over to admire the sincerity of the moment and he decides to stay silent, afraid of disturbing your newfound glee.

By the time you two arrived at the venue, you had already calmed down enough. There’s the remnants of your smile on your face and only Donghyuck knows the details behind it. The thought sends a thrill up his spine.

Maybe your joy was infectious enough for his mother’s bad mood to disappear or perhaps Mrs Lee was relieved to see her future daughter-in-law finally feeling settled in the arrangement. Whatever annoyance Mrs Lee harboured disappeared when she happened to witness the way you and Donghyuck looked at each other. The mirth in both of your faces was similar to your childhood memories. She pulls the wedding planner to her side, happy to give the engaged couple some privacy.

The phone call comes while Donghyuck wraps up his report. Your name flashes on the screen and he jumps for his phone, waits for a second and then answers the call.

“Hyuck,” you drawled into the phone. The background of the call is loud but Donghyuck is more distracted by the old nickname.

“Y/N?”

“Everyone’s teasing me. They want you here.”

“They? What about you? Do you want me to come?” He asks even though he’s already digging through his pocket for his car keys.

You gasped dramatically. “You can’t ask that!”

An overlap of voices cut through the call and Donghyuck can vaguely hear you scolding your friends. You cuss them out before returning to the call.

“Sorry, my faculty mates are so nosy.” Your voice is clearer now, like you had stepped out to talk to him.

Donghyuck stands by his car. “Should I come over?”

“Yeah,” you replied quietly. “I want you here.”

“Share your location with me?”

He finds you seated alone in the outdoor seating of the bar. “Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out as he gets out of his car. You spot him, waving enthusiastically at him from the other side of the road.

He jogs over to you. “Why are you out here alone?”

You tilt your head to the side, not quite understanding the worried undertone of his voice. “I was waiting for you.”

Donghyuck steels himself to remain firm with you. A pout had formed on your lips. You’re irresistibly cute when you’re drunk, even now as an adult. He softens his tone, “Thank you for waiting out here but I don’t think it's safe that you’re out here alone. Maybe next time ask a friend to keep you company, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

You remember your friends teasing you relentlessly about Donghyuck and your eyes widened at the memory. “Wait.” You grab his hands, pulling him and he stumbles into your space. “Everyone thinks you’re my secret partner. They think we’re madly in love with each other. My classmates, they don’t know what we know.”

Donghyuck blinks as he processes your words. He nods slowly. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”

You distractedly play with his hands, pressing your own palms against his. It’s warm to the touch. Your smooth slender fingers splayed over his thick roughened fingers. “Last time we held hands like this, we were still kids,” you offhandedly remarked.

“Y/N…” Donghyuck’s pained tone urges you to look up. “What do you want to do?” His voice is quiet but his plea is loud enough for you to hear.

The corners of your mouth twists with contemplation. Deep within you, the last walls that contained your affection for your fiancé, have cracked open. There’s too many thoughts running through your head and you’re not sober enough to confront them. It hurts to pretend you don’t notice the expectant look on Donghyuck’s face but it’s better than acting rashly.

“Can we just go inside? I’ll introduce you to my friends.” Donghyuck concedes with a nod of his head. You laced your fingers with his in one hand and slowly let go of the other. Throwing on your best smile, you look over your shoulder and try to lift the mood. “You’re going to love this place. There’s a pool table I want to show you.”

Embarrassing doesn’t even cut it.

Maybe the Lee’s estate is a homeground of your embarrassing moments like this one, where you wake up in the guest room of their estate as a disheveled mess. You wake up sprawled across a pillow with the Lee’s family insignia on it, the cursive font in the significant family colour. The longer you squeeze your eyes shut, the more memories you manage to recover. Nursing a hangover at your future in-law’s house is a terrifying situation you have landed yourself in.

You look around the room and thankfully, your phone is on the nightstand, plugged into a power outlet. Donghyuck’s name sits at the top of the list of notifications. You quickly read it, thankful that Donghyuck texted you to call him when you had woken up.

You have a small window of time to freshen up before facing him. Standing in front of the sink, you study yourself. You look put together for a person who had a chaotic night out. Your makeup has been removed, your hair a little tangled from sleep and you’re wearing a comfortable pyjamas set. The Lee’s family insignia is subtly embroidered into the collar of the shirt.

You’re in the midst of brushing your teeth when a soft knock comes from outside. Just like before, Donghyuck cautiously peers into the room before letting himself in. You step out of the joint bathroom to lean against the frame of the door, uncaring that your toothbrush was still hanging from your mouth.

“You’re up earlier than expected,” Donghyuck muses. You give him a small glare and hold your hand up before disappearing into the bathroom to rinse your mouth.

He’s seated on the bed by the time you get back. “Are your parents home?”

Donghyuck raised a brow. “They left this morning for church and whatnot but they know you’re here. Nothing ever stays a secret in this house.”

Your eye twitches. What a horrific impression you have made of yourself. “Why didn’t you send me home? You know my code!” You practically yell.

He raises his voice back. “I tried to! Wha– Wait. You don’t remember?”

You’re stumped. Hadn’t you recalled everything that happened last night? “Remember what?” You carefully asked.

Donghyuck’s hesitant response could not prepare you for the truth. “You wanted to follow me home. That’s why we’re here.”

“Oh, fuck.”

A deep frown settles on your face. You can only remember getting into Donghyuck’s car, the rest of the ride was a blur. You can’t think of a reason why Donghyuck would lie to you which meant that you were the clingy person you vowed not to be.

If he were being honest, Donghyuck was scared of you. Would you be mad at him and push him away? After last night, Donghyuck only wants to hold you closer to him. He’s seen before how much hurt he can unravel. He can only hope that things turn out differently.

You lightly tug at your hair, stressed out by the turn of events. “I’m going home.”

“Let me drive you home.” Donghyuck stood up. You didn’t try to fight him. Instead, you walk around the room trying to find your clothes from the night before but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Where’s my clothes?” Donghyuck pads across the room and opens the wardrobe, revealing your outfit from last night. Your top and jeans were hanging separately in a tidy manner. You stood a few inches behind Donghyuck. “You did this?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry though, my helper did the difficult job of undressing you.” Donghyuck grabs your clothes and offers it to you.

You scoffed to hide your embarrassment. “Difficult?”

Donghyuck is uncharacteristically silent and when you look at him, you find that he’s red in the face. He’s definitely recalling something that you did last night. Probably something embarrassing and life ending information that makes you wonder if you even wanted to gain back those memories. You narrowed your eyes and let out a harrumph, making a show out of walking past him and heading off to the bathroom.

The staff greet you and Donghyuck each time you pass them, completely blowing any sense of discreetness you tried to uphold. At the very least, his parents were still out which helped you save your last strand of dignity.

The car ride is mostly silent save for the occasional sound from Donghyuck when he sings under his breath. Your favourite song comes on shuffle and Donghyuck turns the volume up. You look at him, having not expected him to remember such a specific detail about you. You had thought you were the only one who held on tightly to your shared past but Donghyuck’s natural reaction says otherwise.

You’re still deep in thought when Donghyuck reaches the entrance of your apartment. He waits quietly, knowing better than to interrupt you. He’s staring blankly ahead and wonders about the weight you’ve been carrying alone, if you’re ready to put it down.

“Hey, I’m not sure what I did last night but thanks for putting up with me.”

He turns to you and sees that you’re shyly tucking your hair before your ear, looking down at your lap instead of him. Donghyuck couldn’t help himself from saying, “Do you think you’re a burden to me?”

This causes you to look up, shock written across your face. “What? Where’s this coming from?”

“I don’t put up with you, Y/N.” His voice is soft but firm. “You’re going to be my wife. We both agreed to this. You are a priority in my life.” You nervously chew on your lower lip. Again, you’re not in a proper mindset to be having such a heavy conversation with him. Despite that, you’re still affected by Donghyuck’s confession, leaving your stomach fluttering.

Your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Donghyuck breaks out into a small smile, an underlying melancholy to it. “You don’t have to say anything. I needed you to know that, that’s all.”

It doesn’t seem right to leave wordlessly so you lean across the console, craning your neck to leave a peck on his cheek. “Thank you,” you whisper before pulling away. The wistfulness from the two of you was palpable and you weren’t completely relieved from it. The crack in your walls grows wider and you don’t know if you’re ready for them to fall.

In a room full of people, Donghyuck would rather be alone with you.

He’s at a party with his friends but he’s not participating. Donghyuck has chosen to stick to the walls to watch his friends shake hands with potential business partners.

“You look mad.” Jaemin siddles up to him, his usual charming smile on full display.

“You could say that.” Donghyuck nods in acknowledgement.

“You miss her,” he says to Donghyuck as a matter-of-factly. Donghyuck stares at him with suspicion. He has never confided in Jaemin regarding you and he knows Mark would never gossip about him. Jaemin snorts. “Chill. I can tell because you’re miserable and you can’t stop playing with your ring.”

Donghyuck instantly stops fidgeting, his finger resting against the cool metal of his engagement band instead. He was not fully aware of his own actions. How can it be that Jaemin had managed to see through him?

“I think it’s nice.” Jaemin adds offhandedly.

Donghyuck drops his hands to his sides. “What’s nice?”

“That you’ve found someone to cherish. To love.”

The way you pleaded with him while you were drunk plays like a constant loop in his mind. A glimpse of your younger self had shone through that night before your matured self took over, demanding that you be taken back to the Lee’s estate. Even in your drunken state you were able to outsmart him by claiming that it is your marital right to stay there. Donghyuck smiled fondly. “She’s always been there. I just had trouble seeing what was in front of me all along.’

“Can I ask what made you come to a realisation? I think the Donghyuck I knew never really cared about settling down.”

“I didn’t just hurt Y/N. I crushed her.” Donghyuck looked down, collecting his thoughts to put it into perspective. “It was scary to see her devastated because of me and I hadn’t realised that I had inflicted hurt onto her. I care for her so much to the point that I didn’t even understand it until she walked away from me.”

His face crumpled up without meaning to and Jaemin takes a good look at his friend. Anyone can see the remorse eating away at him. Jaemin lays a comforting hand over Donghyuck’s shoulder, squeezing it. “Give yourself a chance to be forgiven.”

And Jaemin was right. All the hesitation could not prolong any more.

The sky is bright and cloudy, the perfect weather to be out enjoying the sunshine with the presence of another but you’re cooped indoors. You should be at home, the deadline for your dissertation inching closer day by day but as of late, your time has been occupied by your wedding. The only consolation is Donghyuck being there with you.

You had your first meeting with the bridal atelier of your choice two months back and now you’re back for the try on. The flutes of champagne remain untouched. Your fingers thrum against your thigh, feeling restless as the tailors prepare the dressing room for you. Donghyuck wordlessly slips his hand over yours, grounding you to the present moment. You peek over at him and he’s already looking at you. There’s an unspoken devotion in his gaze. You wonder when he had started looking at you with stars in his eyes.

“Ms Y/L/N? We’re ready for you.” You jump away from Donghyuck, clearing your throat. You offer him a small smile and he nods.

You’re careful when you try on your wedding gown, still in great disbelief about the fact that your dream dress has come to life. The assistant showered you with praises as she zipped you up. You let out a gasp as you gaze at your reflection in the mirror.

“Absolutely gorgeous. He is a lucky man.” The assistant said from behind you, startling you out of your reverie. “I’ll give you a moment. Let us know if you need anything.”

You touch the fabric of your gown with reverence, thumbing the rich silky fabric elegantly draped across your figure. A smile finds its way onto your face and you set your shoulder back to meet Donghyuck.

Donghyuck looks up from his phone when he hears the curtains open. His jaw goes slack when he sees you stepping into the room. Your hair has been pulled into a messy updo, stray pieces of hair framing the sides of your face. You’re looking at him with hope and Donghyuck can see the rest of your lives playing out before his eyes.

He rises to his feet. “Wow. That doesn't even cut it.”

You fold your hands in front of you. “Hyuck,” the old nickname slips out of your mouth, “stop. Be honest. Is it alright?”

“Alright?” He gawks. “Y/N, you're drop dead gorgeous!” Donghyuck exclaims before collapsing into his seat. Your laughter carries through the room, filling it with light.

“Whatever you say, Hyuck.” You giggle.

“You don’t believe me! Come here.” He beckons as he walks over to you. Donghyuck meets you halfway to stand face to face with you. “I cannot wait until you say the words ‘I do’ and I become yours.”

You’re blushing furiously but you don’t want to run away from the moment. Taking a leap of faith, you reach out for his hands, guiding it to rest on your waist. His hands are splayed firmly against the bodice of the gown, pressing into your body as a constant reminder that you’re not dreaming.

“I don’t know what to say.” Your voice is quiet as you confess to him.

Donghyuck shakes his head gently, leaning downwards to be closer to your face. “Just say ‘I do’ when the time comes.” And in that moment, you felt the final crack in your chest, the once impenetrable walls that had protected you, crumbled upon the promise of a loving future. You simply cannot wait.

You’re staring at your ring, letting yourself get distracted by it. Your mother is talking your ear off about wedding preparations while the rest of the table waits for Donghyuck’s arrival. You have never thought you’d be praying for his presence to offer you respite from your mother’s overwhelming chatter.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” You shoot up in your seat at the sound of his voice. After a long day bent over your laptop, you needed to see a comforting face.

Donghyuck goes over to your parents first. A firm pat to his back from your dad and a tight hug from your mom. He flashes you a glimmering smile when he gets to you and you feel your face redden under his attention. You turn in your seat to greet him and Donghyuck bends to your level, leaving a peck on your cheeks in greeting. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

You know your parents are watching but you still try to keep your voice low enough for Donghyuck’s ears only. “Better now that you’re here.”

His eyes flicker to your mouth and back to your eyes. “Yeah,” Donghyuck thoughtlessly replies.

Across the table, your father coughs and Donghyuck scrambles into the empty seat beside you. You avoid his eyes and keep your head ducked, allowing your father to lead tonight’s dinner.

“I was just talking about the wedding. We’re so close to the date.” Your mother beams.

Donghyuck casts a glance over his shoulder and notices your dampened mood. He takes a small sip of water. “There’s always so much to prepare and on top of it all, Y/N is working hard on her dissertation.”

Your father smiles softly as he speaks, “That’s right. How’s it going honey?”

“I’m almost done. If my upcoming consultation with my professor goes well, I might be able to turn in my paper sooner than expected.”

“That’s great news darling,” Your mother says as you share the good news with them. She continues, “I’ve been worried that school was going to delay everything.”

Your smile dims and your eyes flicker over to Donghyuck, wishing if he could disappear. You hate moments like these with your mother as she dismisses your hard work, giving you backhanded praise as she priorities her pride over your emotions. The closer the wedding gets, the more remarks your mother makes and she’s clearly stopped holding herself back around Donghyuck. Your face grows red in embarrassment and you feel yourself go mum.

Donghyuck shifts in his seat. He gives your mother a stiff smile as he says, “I would wait however long to marry Y/N. We are to be wedded for life. A brief delay means nothing to me if it’s to ensure Y/N’s happy.”

You see the whiplash your parents experience from Donghyuck’s assurance. Your brows are raised but you choose to remain silent, happy that someone else is protecting you for once. Donghyuck’s shoulders are squared and his eyes are full of unapologetic pride. He slides a hand to grab yours from under the table, offering you silent assurance.

“Glad to know that Y/N’s your priority. Let’s make sure to keep her happy.” Your father says in a rather diplomatic manner. He casts your mother a side glance and she nods along, keeping silent. Under the concealment of the table, you squeeze Donghyuck’s hands in appreciation, all while maintaining a casual expression in front of your parents.

Your dissertation was ready to be submitted earlier than scheduled but you didn’t want to tell your parents yet. Instead, you wanted to initiate a night out with your friends.

Or at least you were trying to. Yizhou was out of the country again and Sungchan was dealing with business outside of Seoul. Your clothes had been picked out. Your preferred club already in mind. All you needed was friends to go with. You scrolled through your contacts and realised the only other person you were comfortable calling up was your fiancé.

After contemplating your options, you caved in and called Donghyuck.

“Are you busy tonight?” You asked him, keeping your voice light. After all, it was a random weekday. He is a busy business man with plans stacked in his calendar.

“Not particularly. What’s up?” Not the answer you were hoping for. You had no choice but to bite the bullet and ask him out. “I was wondering if you’d go out with me tonight. I have good news and I want to celebrate.”

“Celebrate? Where?”

“The clubs.” You coughed into the phone. Donghyuck makes a sound of disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut and plead with him, pulling out a desperate move. “Are you in or are you not?”

Donghyuck giggles and you know you have him onboard. Even when you were kids, your pleadings were persuasive enough for Donghyuck to give into you. “Should I meet you and your friends there?” He asks.

“Actually, none of my friends can make it tonight.” Your voice pitches to a loud tone as you try to play it off. “I want to go out though, so I called you.”

“Just a crazy idea that I’m throwing out here,” Donghyuck slowly says, already thinking about dragging his friends out of the comfort of their homes. “What if I invited my friends? You have never met them properly and this seems like a good time to introduce you.”

You think back to all the times you’ve had the opportunity to be in the same room as Donghyuck’s friends. Not once have they ever treated you in a friendly manner outside of the forced pleasantries that were expected of them. You can’t help but grimace. “No offence Hyuck but I think they hate me.”

“What! No!” Donghyuck says unconvincingly. You did not need to know that you had once been a topic of argument within his friend group. He rubs his temple, thinking of a solution. “Okay, Mark will be there and he is a great social lubricant.”

“Uh-huh.”

He senses the distrust in your voice and considers his options. “You trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust me on this. I think it will go well or at least improve the coldness between you guys.”

“And whose fault is that?” You ask half jokingly.

“Mine. Sorry,” he replies in a small voice.

Your wedding was inching closer and meeting his friends would be an unavoidable experience in the long run. “That’s okay. Go ahead and invite them. I’ll give them a chance as long as they’re willing to do the same.”

Donghyuck grins, already cooking up ways to convince his friends for a night out. “I’ll see you soon.”

After pleading with Mark to help him be the voice of reason, Donghyuck manages to get all of his friends to agree to meet up. Renjun even offers to contact his close friend to get a couch reserved in a popular club. He instructs one of the family drivers to fetch you and you’re the last one to arrive. Donghyuck waves you over as he stands in a circle of his own, surrounded by familiar faces. From afar, they look rather intimidating and you have half the mind to turn around and run off but you steel your nerves, forcing yourself to get the meeting over and done with.

“Hi guys.” You offer them a small wave. You’re awkwardly standing alone and fortunately, Donghyuck slides up to you to wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The tension in your body slightly ebbs away. Jaemin gives you two a long stare and smiles wickedly wide. It’s slightly off-putting but you offer him a friendly smile despite your apprehension.

Mark clears his throat as he takes a step towards you. “Great to finally meet you.” Mark sticks a hand out and you firmly accept it.

A rather fashionable fellow who you recognised as Renjun comes up to you guys. He flashes you a charming smile. “Our table’s ready so let’s move inside and we can have a proper chat!”

“Table?”

“Oh, your man here has gone all out for you.” The rest of the group murmured in agreement which led you to look at Donghyuck for help. He merely shrugs, choosing to maintain indifference.

Renjun decides to pull you out of Donghyuck’s hold, guiding you to the very front of the group. “Just enjoy it. You should take his card and go crazy,” he leans in conspiratorially as he loops your arms together.

Behind you, Jeno snorts, making his presence known. You both exchange friendly smiles. “Hope you enjoy your time tonight, Y/N.”

Your group breeze through security with a flash of a smile from Renjun. It makes you wonder how well-known Donghyuck’s friends are. You have heard of the notorious wait list for this particular club which was bad enough to fizzle out your interest in coming down.

You are led to a table beside the dj booth. The expanse of the couch is much larger than expected. It could probably hold double the amount of people present at the moment. You stand by the sidelines. “Uh, are we expecting people?”

Everyone turns to look at Donghyuck who’s sporting a sheepish expression. “It was either this or we would have to stand at the tables. I’m not making you stand for the entire night.”

Your jaw dropped. Chenle hollers from where he’s seated. “Get a room, you love birds.”

With his eyes still trained on you, Donghyuck flips Chenle off. The table breaks out into snickers but you’re still hung up on the fact that Donghyuck had spent an incredible amount of money on you. “Are you mad?” He asks.

“No?” You shake your head. “I just– we could have gone elsewhere? I don’t know, I want to make your money’s worth.”

Donghyuck frowns. “You are worth every dollar I have.”

You blinked in surprise, not having expected Donghyuck to take the conversation to a personal level. You stepped forward to slip your arms around his, gently tugging him closer to you. “We’ll revisit this tomorrow,” you say before planting a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being thoughtful.”

Donghyuck can feel his cheeks reddening and he’s glad that the lighting in the club makes it hard to see. You disappear from his side, welcoming the chaos with open arms as you approach the table. Donghyuck watches you as he silently nurses a drink in one hand. His eyes danced around your figure, the confidence radiating off you was magnetic and it felt like a treat to be in your presence. Donghyuck focused on the little things like the way your nose scrunches when the alcohol hits too strongly for your liking or the way your body folds, laughing gleefully at whatever stories his friends tell you. He barely notices the music or his friends sharing wordless looks throughout the night.

Jisung scoots down the couch to be next to Donghyuck, lightly knocking their knees together for his attention. Jisung offers his hyung a small smile before leaning in, “You should ask her to dance.”

“What?”

“You look like Jay waiting on Daisy,” Jisung giggles drunkenly, head thrown back as he leans back into the leather couch. “Just go up to her.” He says encouragingly.

At that moment, you look over your shoulders and lock eyes with Donghyuck, flashing him a shy smile. His heart stutters in his chest as he rushes to his feet to move towards you like a lovesick fool in a trance. Donghyuck downs his drink, setting it down as he passes the table before finally reaching you. You never once looked away from him. Mark’s chatter comes to a halt when he senses Donghyuck’s presence and he makes a silent escape, sensing the shift in the air.

To Donghyuck’s surprise, you beat him at making the first move. “Let’s dance!” You cheered.

You had slipped your hand into his and led him onto the dance floor. Donghyuck naturally stands close to your back but the crowd pushes him into you. While you seemed unaffected by the skin on skin contact with passing strangers, Donghyuck had a frown on his face that seemed to grow deeper whenever a stranger did a double take at you. It was as if you could feel the anger radiating from behind you. You manoeuvred your joint hands to your stomach, forcing Donghyuck to stay pressed against your back.

He barely registers the close contact that’s happening between you two when you stopped walking, seemingly satisfied with the spot you had chosen. You lean your head backwards to smile up at Donghyuck. It’s a little lopsided but still full of energy. He wants to kiss you. The moment is cut short when the music transitions to an upbeat tempo. Your back is facing Donghyuck again as you move to the beat, still holding onto his arm which leaves him no choice but to stay close to you.

The alcohol he’s consumed barely compares to the intoxicating feeling of having you in his arms, bare skin brushing against each other while fully immersed in the moment. It’s not the same feeling as when you two first danced as kids or during your birthday party. There’s an underlying current of tension that’s building between you two, one that’s growing tauter as the wedding day approaches.

Donghyuck leans forward, his mouth inches away from your ear. “You never told me what we’re celebrating tonight for?”

You suddenly spin to face him and Donghyuck tightens his hold on you. “I never told you?” He shakes his head, his lips curling upwards. Donghyuck is absolutely smitten by you. “I finished my dissertation early!”

“Y/N!” Donghyuck cheers as he embraces you. You squeezed him tightly, happy to share your achievement with someone who cared about your wellbeing. “I’m so proud of you.” He presses a chaste kiss to the side of your head. You don’t know if you were meant to hear it but you nuzzle your face in his shirt for a moment longer than necessary, allowing yourself to indulge in Donghyuck’s presence.

When it’s time to end the night, Donghyuck books a ride to your apartment. You’re slumped over his shoulder, a tired smile on your face but you’re still dazzling to Donghyuck. He gently touches your cheek. “Sleep,” he commands.

Your power nap was interrupted by a melodious voice, stirring you awake. You slide your hands into his while muttering farewell to the patient driver. Donghyuck follows from behind, enjoying the way you drag him around, leading him into your apartment. He watches you kick off your shoe on your own, holding onto the wall for support. After watching you fail, he decides to close the distance by kneeling in front of you, sliding the other shoe off your feet.

Your face burns and you dart your eyes away from him. “Thanks, Hyuck.”

You set a second pair of house slippers for him, staring at him expectantly. Donghyuck toes his shoes off at record time and slides into the house slippers. You offer him a satisfied grin and reclasp your hands with his. “Stay the night.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widened. “Sure? I’ll put you to bed.”

This earns a surprised laugh from you. “I don’t need your help!”

He shakes your joint hands, whining petulantly. “Let me win. I just wanted an excuse to take care of you.” You roll your eyes but the smile on your face never fades. Donghyuck knows he has won and he childishly celebrates with a hurrah.

You lightly tug his arm. “Take me to bed then.”

You’re happy that this time, you’re sober enough to be in the moment. You get the chance to admire the attention Donghyuck holds for you. The comforting feeling of seeing Donghyuck in your space helps you relax. He’s kneeling on your bed while he has you sitting cross legged in the middle, gently wiping away the makeup from your face. Every swipe from him is full of utmost care. You have never been gentle with yourself. It makes your heart flutter from such a simple gesture.

“That’s all of it,” Donghyuck says, his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration.

“Thanks.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You’re partly entranced by him but another part of you is distracted by your growing affection for him. It’s times like these you wished things were simpler between you two.

He pulls away first, giving you the chance to make your escape however you choose to linger by the entrance of your en suite bathroom. You stared at him expectantly. “Stay the night, yeah? I need to get you something clean to sleep in.”

“I’m sure I’ll make do with whatever.” He gestures to his outfit and you raise a brow, unconvinced.

“Wait here,” you instructed softly as you walked off to your guestroom.

You come back to see Donghyuck seated by the edge of your bed, his body angled towards the door as he anticipates your return. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he beams at the sight of you.

“Here.” You pass him a stack of clean clothes. He eyes it suspiciously, accepting it with a pout playing on his lips.

“This doesn’t belong to an ex boyfriend right?”

“No.” You snorted. “It belonged to Sungchan,” you offhandedly answered.

The look of surprise on Donghyuck’s face was priceless. His jaw tensed, torn between anger and shock while his eyes were openly showcasing his stirring emotions.

You laugh in his face. It was too good of an opportunity to tease him. “I’m kidding! Oh my god!” The stony expression on his face has yet to crack so you scoop his hand into yours, offering him assurance. “I swear on our lives, the shirt belongs to my dad. As for the pants, they were too big for me and I was too lazy to return them.”

Donghyuck squeezes your joint hands and the prior anger melts away. “Okay,” he mutters before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. His lips graze your skin and your body tingles from the heat. “Thank you.”

You gently pull your hand out of his hold, eager to put some space between you two. You press the clothes into his chest and spin on your heels, making a swift escape to the bathroom.

After an unnecessarily long time in the shower, you decided to bite the bullet and face Donghyuck. You thought you had steeled yourself enough but the sight of Donghyuck standing in the middle of your room has you jumping in surprise.

“Donghyuck!” You yelled, a hand pressed to your chest.

He looked equally surprised. “I’m sorry, I was just coming in to set a glass of water and painkillers.”

Your shoulders dropped and your eyes moved behind him, catching sight of your nightstand. True enough, Donghyuck had brought in a bottle of medicine and your favourite mug.

Donghyuck purses his lips, his eyes moving towards the door. “I’ll be in your guestroom if you need anything.”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? If you need someone to hold your hair back while you’re bent over the toilet, just wake me up.” He teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward. “Get out,” you demanded but the ghost of your smile still remained.

Donghyuck holds his hands up in surrender. “Goodnight Y/N.”

You stayed rooted in your spot, offering him a small wave. “Goodnight Donghyuck.”

Silence enveloped your room and you didn’t mind it, knowing that Donghyuck was rooms away from you. You gingerly sat down by your bedside, gripping your mug as you tried to make sense of your heart. You were without a doubt, falling in love with Donghyuck all over again and you had no intention of ever stopping.

The morning of your wedding was a blur. You were first introduced to the beauty and styling team that you hired for the wedding. The day progresses quickly and the bridal room is open to visitors who file in and out like a constant stream, eager to bless you with their well wishes. A lot of small talk and hugs occurred and you could barely catch up.

Sungchan drops by to greet both you and Yizhou, the three of you enjoying a round of champagne and taking many pictures. Sungchan gives you a tight hug as he leaves.

Moments before you’re scheduled to walk down the aisle, you’re finally left alone. The silence that surrounds you weighs on your shoulders. Your eyes subconsciously drift to your ring finger, knowing that this is the last time it’ll be empty for the rest of your life. A mix of emotions cloud your mind. You reach for your bouquet when a loud knock resonates through the door, signaling that your time has arrived.

You loop your arms around your father’s as you walk to the back of the line. “Y/N,” your father softly muttered. He waits for you to look at him and you note the tears brimming around the corner of his eyes. “I hope I made the right choice. I hope he makes you happy.”

You clutch the bouquet of flowers closer to your chest. It was a bundle of sunflowers, hydrangeas and primroses, a mix comprising both of your favourite flowers. “You did.” You assured your father, confident of your answer.

The wedding march had begun and you quickly gave your father a peck on the cheek right before your veil was lifted over your face. Your cousin walks out first, joined by Jaemin. You watched from the end of the line as Yizhou accepted the arm Mark offered her. They reach the altar and finally, it was your turn to walk down the aisle.

Upon your first step, the piano notes shift into a different melody. Your eyes land on Donghyuck who has a small smile on his face. It comes as a genuine surprise to you once you register the melody of the song. Your heart thuds against your chest and you’re torn between breaking down into tears or leaping for joy. It is evident that Donghyuck hadn’t forgotten dancing with you at your birthday party all those years ago, the same song playing as you walk down the aisle towards him.

It’s a big cliche but you never stopped looking at Donghyuck. Not now, not when he’s openly staring back at you. There’s a matching secret grin that only you two understand. You can’t look away, you simply refuse to. Your father offers your hand to Donghyuck and he accepts it with so much tenderness, his fingers enveloping yours as he guides you to stand in front of him. You’re toe to toe, aligned with each other.

Time seems to move differently when you’re standing in front of Donghyuck, forced to look at him through a veil. There’s an undercurrent of want flowing not just in you, but Donghyuck as well. You try to soothe him by gently brushing your thumb against his palm.

Mark steps forward with the rings and you wet your mouth, eager not to mess up your exchange of vows.

“Do you, Lee Donghyuck, take Y/L/N Y/N as your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part.”

He looks you in the eye, certain as ever. “I do.” The ring slips onto your finger, cool to the touch which leaves goosebumps in its wake. The significance of the ring is setting in.

“And do you, Y/L/N Y/N, take Lee Donghyuck as your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part.”

You blindly reach for Donghyuck’s ring, too eager to complete the ceremony. Mark pushes the cushion into your hand and you pick up the ring. “I do,” you say as you slide the ring over Donghyuck’s ring finger. The ring sits perfectly below his knuckles. You squeeze his fingers tightly.

“By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Donghyuck tightly squeezes your hands before releasing them. He’s already reaching for your veil when the minister says, “You may kiss the bride.”

The church roused with applause and cheers as your veil was thrown over your head. Donghyuck sneaks his hand to the back of your neck, pressing against it as he leaned forward to capture your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, succumbing to your first kiss with Donghyuck. It’s a hard press to your lips. Nothing too indecent for a sacred occasion but heavier than the shy peck you had expected from him.

You pull away to rest your nose against the slope of his, unable to tame the smile on your face. No coherent thought could come out of your mouth as you gaze into Donghyuck’s eyes.

“Onto forever.” He says it loud enough for you to hear. You nodded and he moved his hand to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you in before you embarked on the mad dash down the aisle. One hand looped around Donghyuck’s neck and the other tightly clutching onto your bouquet, you couldn’t have imagined a better way to leave the church as a newly wedded couple.

It’s date night with your husband.

Three weeks have passed since the wedding and life has adjusted back to normal for everyone else. Meanwhile, you and Donghyuck were still balancing the newly wedded lifestyle. He had gone back to work and you were taking time to unwind from the stressful year that had passed.

Donghyuck had made a reservation for dinner and you had agreed to meet him there. You spend the whole day sitting in your jittery feelings, wildly anticipating seeing him.

Dinner was a lovely affair. You were sitting in a fancy restaurant, situated on the rooftop of an esteemed hotel. Conversation flowed between you two, from anecdotes of Donghyuck’s day at work to recounting the cherished memories of the wedding.

The hostess politely interrupts, carrying a plate of brownies topped with ice cream. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Here’s a complimentary cake from us. Congratulations and cheers to your future.”

The two of you eyed the plate, surprised to see a message written on it. Congrats to the love birds. You cover your face with your hands and Donghyuck laughs in disbelief. “This is crazy,” you said.

“No one taught us how to maximise our marriage.”

You slowly pulled your hands away and discovered that Donghyuck had been recording you the whole time. Shit. “Hyuck!”

“What?” He asks, chuckling from behind his phone.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god. Delete that.”

“Why? You look gorgeous.”

You frown at him but it fails to make an impact on Donghyuck. He takes one last picture of you before putting his phone away. “I wanted pictures to remember this by.” Donghyuck confesses as he takes a sip of his drink.

Your features softened and you were no longer annoyed by him. Taking a clean spoon, you cut into the brownie, scooping a big portion and lifting it to Donghyuck’s face. “Here.” You offered.

He looks from the spoon to your face, face heating up from the attention you were giving him. Donghyuck cranes his neck forward and accepts the offer, taking a bite from the spoon.

“Is it good?” You asked. Donghyuck hopes he doesn’t have any bit of chocolate smudge on his lips as he nodded wordlessly.

He hadn’t expected you to use the same spoon, licking at the remnants of chocolate before diving into the brownie to get a taste for yourself. Donghyuck grows slightly dazed, knowing how unaffected you are by the intimacy. His mouth grows dry at the thought of your lips. It has been three weeks without your kiss after all. He knows he’ll have to keep waiting for a chance to kiss you again.

You lightly nudge him out of his trance, your foot hitting him under the table. Donghyuck looks downward then at your face. You offer him a cheeky smile and he’s back with you, pushing aside any distractions.

It’s a beautiful night and the sky is clear enough to gaze at. You suggest going for a drive near the Han River. It was a refreshing experience for you. You and Donghyuck never had the chance to hang out casually, having missed each other throughout your adolescent years and your early twenties. Now, as husband and wife, you two have the chance to bask in the silence together.

You shiver slightly as the wind blows, your hair falling over your face. A jacket is suddenly draped over your shoulders and you gripped the fabric tightly. “Are you sure?”

“I have to take care of my wife.” You can’t deny that his intentions made you feel warm all over. You accepted his offer without much fight and slid your hands into his jacket, engulfed by Donghyuck’s lingering warmth. You could even smell the remnants of his cologne when you lean closer into the jacket.

Another lapse of comfortable silence passes when you felt a drop of water on the top of your head. You turn to Donghyuck with a frown. “Did you feel that?”

He sticks his hand out and you watch expectantly. Donghyuck jumps in surprise when the droplets of rain land on his palm. He laughs. “Oh shit, we have to go.”

In a matter of minutes, the sky is covered with thick clouds and the rain begins to fall steadily. The car park is a reasonable distance. All around, the trees begin swaying as you two rush to the car. You stopped in your tracks and Donghyuck slowed down to yell at you. “Hurry!”

You fumble with his jacket and create a makeshift cover, running up to him. “Get under.”

He joins you, one arm reaching for the sleeves of his jacket and the other wrapping around your shoulder to pull you close to him. The rain pours down on you two and you couldn’t help but laugh at your current predicament. Your glee was contagious and Donghyuck laughed along, melting into the sound of the downpour.

He ushered you into the passenger seat of his car before running over to the driver's side, his hair completely drenched. Donghyuck starts the engine and you blast the heater, adjusting the angle to blow towards Donghyuck.

“Aren’t you cold?” Even when his teeth are chattering and he’s visibly shaking, Donghyuck still tries to look after you. You rolled your eyes fondly. “You sacrificed your jacket for me. Just defrost a little, okay?”

You don’t miss the smile that’s tugged at the corner of his lips as he snuggles into the driver's seat, giving up his fight. When he deems himself warm enough, he begins the drive to your apartment. You keep your gaze on his profile, staring unabashedly. Donghyuck stares back several times. He can’t quite tame the feelings blossoming in his chest. He clenches the steering wheel, eager to make it back to your apartment.

Your intertwined hands keep each other warm. He follows you through your apartment and as always, he’s happy to have you pull him in whatever direction. You bring him into your room and grab two fresh sets of towels.

“Go in here. I’ll use the spare shower.” You hold the stacked towels and Donghyuck apprehensively glances at it, reluctant to separate from you. His eyes rove back at you and his eyes widen into a pleading look. You frowned. “What is it?”

“I want to stay with you.” Donghyuck shamelessly answered.

Your cheeks heat up and you push the towel to his chest, causing him to stumble backwards. “Don’t be stupid. We are both drenched and will fall sick. It is faster this way.”

His pout is still present but he finally accepts the fresh towel, your hands freed from his. The cold immediately replaces his warmth. “Go. I’ll need to find something you can fit in while waiting for your clothes to dry.” You tell him, keeping yourself away from the thoughts running through your head.

Donghyuck looks at you longingly for one last time before conceding to your instructions. You let out the breath you were holding when you heard the lock on the bathroom door, slouching against the wall to calm your nerves. After laying out the spare clothes you had stolen from your fathers closet, you quickly grabbed your own clothes and rushed to the spare shower.

Alone, surrounded by the tiled walls of your shower, you’re given some reprieve from your racing feelings. You didn’t mean to take a long shower but the stream of hot water was what you needed to unwind. By the time you returned to your room with a towel wrapped around your head, donning an oversized shirt and sweatpants, Donghyuck was already waiting for you on the edge of your bed.

You blinked at the sight. His hair was fluffy after a shower and your fathers shirt sits loosely over his frame, making Donghyuck look cuter than usual. Donghyuck has a sheepish look on his face as he obediently waits for your return.

“Come here,” you say as you walk over to your dressing table. You’re pulling out your hair dryer when Donghyuck stands beside you. You grinned at him. “Sit. I’ll dry your hair.”

Again, Donghyuck easily follows your direction as he settles down in front of the vanity. You work quietly as you dry his hair, brushing it with utmost care reminding you of your younger days, when he would let you style his hair. You gently apply some hair oil to your hands and run it through his soft strands. Standing close to him, you can smell the fragrant scent of your shampoo lingering on his hair. You inhale deeply.

Donghyuck breaks the silence as he murmurs softly, “Your turn.”

The tranquility that sits between you and him is too enjoyable to ruin so you let him have his way, inwardly pleased to have Donghyuck take care of you. He removes the towel from your head and begins working on your hair. Donghyuck is practically a magician. He expertly massages your head as he rubs your hair products into your hair. You’re content with the silence between you two as he brushes your hair before drying it.

When he’s done, Donghyuck tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning over your shoulder to whisper in your ear. “You’re stunning.”

You meet his eyes through the mirror and you immediately grow shy, looking away and getting up from your seat. “Thanks,” you mutter as you busy yourself with tidying up the vanity.

Thankfully, Donghyuck gives you some space as he steps back to watch you. You can feel his eyes on you even with your back turned to him. It makes your heart skip a beat.

Once you’ve kept all of your things, you are forced to face Donghyuck again. You slowly turn on your heels to face him and he is already looking at you. Donghyuck’s stare has been fixed on you the whole time and you grow nervous under his stare, the weight of it starting to unnerve you.

Donghyuck’s gaze grows deeper as he straightens his posture, looking you dead in the eye. His resolve has hardened. It was a foreboding moment in which you were powerless to stop but you still tried. “Y/N, I love–”

Your eyes widened in fear. “Stop. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.” You point at him accusingly.

His gaze falls to the distance between you two, unable to fathom how he ended up in this position when moments ago, you were inseparable. “Why? Are you scared?”

You part your mouth in disbelief. He wasn’t mocking you. Donghyuck was genuinely trying to get through you. The pressure of it all has you cracking under it. “Because I don’t know what’s going on between us anymore! You treat me with so much tenderness and affection, crossing the boundaries we have set, ever so often. My rationality flies out the window when I’m with you. I have a reason to be scared because the last time you treated me this way, you rejected me!” You exploded.

Donghyuck can see the way you’re shaking, a similar visual to the night of his birthday party. Even as the tears begin to gather in your eyes, he forces himself to stay calm for your sake. “I was a fool, Y/N. I am sorry but I get it now.”

“Are you sure you’re not just caught up in the moment?” You ask as your gaze drops to the ground. Donghyuck frowns deeply. You have become so small in the short span of your conversation. It hurts him to see you this way.

“God, no. Never.” He pleads as he steps into your space, one hand gently cupping your head, lifting your chin upwards to look you in the eye. “I love you. I have loved you forever ago and I’ll love you forevermore.”

Your vision blurs completely. “I love you,” you whispered into the hushed silence. Donghyuck slowly leans forward to bring your foreheads together. You blink away at the stray tears that pooled in your eyes. “I love you, Lee Donghyuck,” you repeated.

He nodded and closed his eyes, uncaring when your tears fell on his face. “I love you,” Donghyuck whispers as he holds you close, finally catching you as you fall apart in his palms.

Between job hunting and apartment hunting, your honeymoon couldn’t have been a better excuse to leave the world behind.

The sun shimmers in the sky. You’re leaning against cobbled streets that have been around longer than your existence, when Donghyuck comes over jogging to you. You chided lightly. “Slow down. I don’t want you to fall.”

Donghyuck almost crashes into the wall but he plays it off with a coy smile. “I love falling for you.”

You scrunched your nose, cringing at his joke. “You’re terrible.”

“Too bad. You’re married to me for life.” Donghyuck teases.

“Indeed, I am.” Your eyes flit to the ring on his finger and you smiled softly. “Hey, what took you so long?”

Donghyuck perked up. “I asked the receptionist for some help. He told me a few nights ago to visit a particular bakery. Thought we could venture out before lunchtime.”

You wrapped your arm around his, interlocking your fingers together. “Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.”

Savoury treats, sweet drinks and good company is all you needed and Donghyuck eagerly met your needs. The moonlight reflects on the cobbled stones of ground, a soft glow leading the way around the city. His fingers shyly brush yours after every few steps. It’s only been two months since the confession and Donghyuck has demonstrated impeccable patience with you. You knew this trip was a way to finally start returning the favour.

You timed it correctly, firmly pulling his fingers into your hold and intertwining it together. You can feel the surprise jolting through Donghyuck which elicits a giggle from you.

“What’s going on?” He asks, aiming for a relaxed tone but ultimately, you can hear his underlying worry.

“I felt like holding hands with my husband.” You lift your gaze to smile at him, “I know you like this.”

Just as you had expected, Donghyuck starts blushing. His composure doesn’t break much to his credit. He remains collected and squeezes your hand tightly. “I do. I do like this and I like you.”

“Like?” You asked, voice lilt in an attempt to push Donghyuck’s buttons.

You hear Donghyuck muttering under his breath and you laugh gleefully, knowing he has fallen straight into your trap. It’s too easy to tease Donghyuck. It’s a skill that never faded away even after all those years apart.

“I’m the luckiest girl alive. My husband likes me.” You said loudly. Some passersby give you a quizzical look as Donghyuck’s face burns with mild embarrassment.

“I don’t like you.” His face is red but his eyes are filled with determination. You’ve seen this version of Donghyuck many times under various circumstances. He’s standing his ground. Donghyuck looks at you, maintaining a steady grip on your hand.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” He declares.

You slowly reach out to gently cup his cheeks, caressing it ever so softly. Hearing him say it still makes your world spin round, giddy with joy and excitement. Standing on your toes, you inch your head upwards to give him a peck on the lip.

Donghyuck squeaks out of surprise and the kiss ends as quickly as it happens. His eyes are rounded, seemingly frozen and fixed on you. You smiled sheepishly as pink dust the apples of your cheeks. “I love you,” you said.

Donghyuck blinks and suddenly you’re being pulled into his body, stumbling over your feet as you land on his chest. You exclaimed softly and he wrapped his slender arms around your waist, grounding you.

“You can’t just do that.” His eyes are roving across your face. It’s clear that his restraint has stretched thinly. You pulled your lips into a smirk as you confidently met his gaze. “What are you going to do about it?”

Your eyes fall shut as Donghyuck presses his lips against yours, this time with more pressure than your attempt. He takes his time with you, kissing your breath away, bathed underneath the moonlight. Your fingers find purchase at the back of his neck and Donghyuck groans.

The kiss breaks and you’re smiling wildly at him. “I’m yours, Hyuck. I’m not going anywhere.”

You trail your other hand up his chest, pressing it flat against his shirt to feel his heartbeat. You look at him in awe and he leans down to rub his nose against your cheekbone. Donghyuck utters, “And I’m yours. Forever and always.”

The goodbye itself feels unfinished somehow.

Like neither of you say the words fully because speaking them too clearly might make everything too real. The last day before he went the atmosphere was heavy despite trying to find the light.

Even when the both of you try to not show the fear, the worry was obvious behind your eyes.

The last night, while you help him pack his stuff he takes a simple gold chain from his drawer and put the ring there before clasping it around your neck. He tucks the chain with the ring carefully beneath your shirt himself.

Neither of you says What if this is the last time because neither of you can survive hearing it out loud.

Then he was gone. 

The first few weeks aren’t too bad. You get three updates total. Short. Obviously screened for safety but still it was enough to ease your heart and mind even for a bit. Enough to know he’s alive. Enough to keep breathing easier for another few days.

Cheol: Don’t forget to eat.  Cheol: Don’t drink too much coffee, take a cab if you’re too sleepy to take the bus Cheol: I miss you

After that, it was silence.

Your own messages stop delivering entirely. Calls unreachable. No updates. Nothing. And logically, you know what that means. Operational security. Dangerous mission. 

He told you enough information to know when this happens it means he’s in the middle of it all. The most dangerous part. 

Eight weeks pass then nine. Ten. Then suddenly it’s been twenty six weeks total. One Hundred Eighty Two days. 

Too long. Far too long.

Your shifts become harder somehow during this stretch.

You’re still Dr. Y/L/N in the ER. Still terrifyingly composed during trauma calls but now exhaustion follows you home differently because there’s no one waiting outside the hospital with coffee.

Just silence.

The ring stays around your neck every single day. Simple chain. Simple promise.

Sometimes during particularly bad shifts, your fingers curl around it instinctively beneath your scrubs. Like touching it grounds you.

Nurse Yang notices once while you’re scrubbing in for surgery.

“No news?”

You shake your head once but you repeat his words to yourself constantly now. 

No news is good news.

Meaning somewhere out there… He’s alive. Somewhere out there Captain Choi Seungcheol is still fighting his way back to you.

That thought becomes enough to survive on. But logic becomes a fragile thing at 2 a.m. when you’re staring at your phone rereading old messages like they might suddenly update themselves.

Some nights are worse. You’ll sit alone in his apartment curled into the couch wearing one of his sweatshirts while rain taps softly against the windows.

The city glowing outside. That’s when your mind drifts too easily to possibilities, to worst-case scenarios, to all the things trauma surgeons know too well about fragile human bodies.

Those are the nights you force yourself toward the shelf with his medals instead.

Toward proof that he survived before, that he came back before.

Proof that Captain Choi Seungcheol is too stubborn to lose.

One particularly brutal night after losing a patient in surgery, you come home shaking with exhaustion. You barely make it through the apartment door before sinking onto his couch still in scrubs.

And for the first time since he left, you break. Exhausted tears hidden behind your hands because you miss him so much it physically hurts.

And eventually your hand slips beneath your shirt automatically until your fingers curl around the ring resting against your chest.

You close your eyes tightly and whisper into the empty apartment “You better come home, Captain.”

The silence afterward feels endless but somehow somewhere deep down beneath all the fear you still believe he will.

=

Thursday starts like every other impossible hospital day. Too bright fluorescent lights. Too much blood. Too little sleep.

You’ve been awake for almost twenty hours when you finally finish a trauma surgery that nearly went sideways twice.

By the time you step out of the OR, your scrubs are sticking to your skin and your shoulders ache from tension.

Still you saved them. So you scrub your hands slowly at the sink afterward trying to steady your breathing again.

Another life dragged back from the edge. Another day survived.

You’re already mentally preparing for charting when you push through the ER doors.

And then you see him, an officer standing near the nurses’ station.

Military uniform. Formal posture waiting by the main lobby. At first your brain doesn’t process it. Hospitals get officers sometimes. Paperwork. Routine check-ups. 

You glance around briefly assuming he’s here for someone else.

Then he looks directly at you.

And suddenly every cell in your body goes cold.

No.

No no no.

The world narrows instantly.

You stop walking. The officer takes one careful step forward.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

Your heartbeat becomes deafening.

Somewhere far away monitors keep beeping. Nurses move past. Someone calls for transport but all you can hear is blood roaring in your ears.

The officer’s expression shifts subtly.

Gentler.

Prepared.

And you know. You know before he even speaks.

The floor beneath your feet feels like it physically gives out

“Captain Choi Seungcheol was injured during deployment—”

No.

“—he was airlifted immediately—”

No.

“—he’s currently being transferred to the base hospital—”

No.

“—doctors are already operating—”

Operating.

“—the injuries were severe—”

Your breathing stutters violently.

“—he’s unconscious—”

The word slams into you hardest.

Unconscious.

Everything after that blurs. 

Too close. Critical. Heavy blood loss.

None of it makes sense because this morning you were literally thinking about him while making coffee, because his hoodie you wore last night is still hanging over the couch. 

Because he promised.

You stare at the officer but suddenly can’t feel your hands properly. Your fingers curl instinctively around the ring beneath your scrubs.

Cold metal against shaking skin.

No.

No no no.

Not him.

Not Seungcheol. Not your Seungcheol. 

Your vision blurs instantly. The hallway tilts sickeningly.

Then somewhere nearby “Doctor Y/N?” Nurse Yang spots you talking to the officer, walking slowly towards you.

Bless Nurse Yang. She takes one look at your face from down the hall and immediately knows something is wrong.

“Y/N?”

Your knees buckle before you even realize it. The floor rushes up terrifyingly fast. Then suddenly arms catch you halfway down.

Voices erupt around you.

“Get a chair—”

“She’s pale—”

“Doctor, breathe—”

But all you can hear is:

Unconscious.

Severe.

Operating.

You start crying before you even realize you are. Terrified broken sobs that rip out of your chest uncontrollably while Nurse Yang kneels in front of you holding your face steady.

“Hey hey hey—look at me”

Your breathing turns sharp and uneven

“I can’t—” you choke out “I can’t—”

“Yes you can” her hands wipe your tears quickly like she’s done this your entire life, purely maternal. Grounding. Steady.

You grip desperately at her sleeves

“Where is he?” you choke out in between sobs

The officer answers carefully, “He arrived at the military hospital approximately twenty minutes ago.”

“Is he alive?” The question comes out broken. Barely audible.

The officer pauses just long enough to destroy you further

“Yes.”

You inhale shakily. Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

You cling to the word immediately.

Nurse Yang smooths your hair back gently while you struggle to breathe through the panic crushing your chest.

“You need to go” she says softly

Your eyes snap to hers immediately “But—”

“He needs you more right now.” That nearly breaks you all over again.

You shake violently while trying to stand. Doctor instincts and terrified girlfriend instincts colliding painfully together.

Your brain keeps supplying possibilities automatically.

Internal bleeding. Head trauma. Ventilator. Emergency thoracotomy.

You know too much. Far too much.

“Hey.” Nurse Yang grips your shoulders firmly before you spiral further “Don’t do that to yourself yet.”

Your eyes fill again instantly “What if I’m too late?”

Her expression softens painfully “This is the same man who waited for you for seven hours. I’m betting everything that even now he’s fighting his way back to you”

Neither of you can promise that and you both know it but she still says it to you.

The officer offers to escort you immediately. Someone brings your bag. Someone else presses water into your shaking hands.

The ER around you keeps moving. Life continuing cruelly normal while yours cracks apart in real time.

As you walk out of the hospital, your fingers clutch the ring beneath your scrubs so tightly it hurts.

Your engagement ring.

Your promise.

Your Seungcheol.

Please. Please come back to me.

Because suddenly the thought of a world without Captain Choi Seungcheol in it feels impossible to survive.

The drive to the base feels unreal, it felt like you’re watching someone else’s life happen through thick glass.

The officer beside you speaks occasionally.

You think. Maybe. The words barely register. Everything sounds distorted underwater.

Your hands won’t stop shaking. You keep rubbing your thumb against the ring hanging beneath your shirt until the skin feels raw.

Outside the car window, the city passes in blurred streaks of light. Entire worlds continuing normally while yours feels suspended somewhere between hope and catastrophe.

By the time you reach the military base hospital, your body is running purely on adrenaline and terror.

Everything there feels colder somehow. Security escorts you through corridors too clean and too quiet.

You catch glimpses of uniforms. Doctors moving quickly. Restricted doors.

No one tells you much. Only fragments.

“He’s still in surgery.” “There was significant blood loss.” “Multiple shrapnel injuries.” “Close-range impact.”

Each sentence lands like another crack splitting through your chest. And because you’re a doctor that makes this infinitely worse. You know what significant blood loss means. You know how dangerous shrapnel is, how unpredictable.

How one tiny fragment can tear through organs and arteries like paper.

Your brain fills in every possibility automatically no matter how hard you try stopping it.

You imagine ventilators. Chest tubes. Open abdomen. Internal hemorrhage.

You hate yourself for knowing too much.

They settle you in a waiting area eventually.

Someone offers water, coffee, food but you refuse all of it. You can’t swallow properly anyway.

Hours pass strangely after that. Time becomes measured in footsteps outside the OR and every time the doors swing open your heart nearly stops.

At some point an officer quietly approaches you again.

Older. Gentler expression. The kind reserved for terrible conversations.

Your stomach drops instantly.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he says carefully “may we speak privately for a moment?”

No.

You already know what kind of conversation this is before he even finishes.

You stand. Your legs feel numb walking into the quieter office nearby.

The officer gestures toward a chair.

“Captain Choi updated his records before deployment.”

Your chest tightens violently. The forms, the ones at the dining table. The ones you cried over.

The officer continues carefully

“In the event of worst-case outcomes, you were designated primary next of kin regarding medical authorization and personal directives.”

Worst-case outcomes. Your vision blurs immediately again.

The officer slides a folder carefully across the desk. Inside are signatures you recognize instantly.

Seungcheol’s handwriting.

Steady. Certain. Prepared.

Prepared for things he never prepared you for.

Your breath catches painfully.

“There are protocols we may need to discuss if his condition worsens—”

“No.” The word leaves you instantly. Sharp.

The officer pauses gently “Doctor—”

“No.” You back away slightly from the desk

Because if you let this become real. if you let yourself imagine life support decisions and emergency directives and memorial procedures. You’ll shatter completely.

“He’s alive,” you whisper desperately

“Yes”

“So don’t talk to me like he’s not coming back”

Then it was just silence again. Not the comforting kind, heavy. Too loud. 

The officer’s expression softens further. Not pity. Something sadder. Understanding.

“Captain Choi spoke very highly of you” he says quietly instead

You look away quickly before another sob escapes. The officer thankfully doesn’t push further.

Eventually he guides you back toward the surgical floor where the waiting becomes unbearable again.

Hour four.

Hour five.

Hour six.

You don’t move.

Not really.

You sit curled slightly forward in the chair outside surgery with your hands clasped so tightly together your knuckles ache.

Every doctor who walks past makes your head snap up instantly. Every time it’s not his surgeon, disappointment crashes into you again. Someone drapes a blanket over your shoulders at some point.

You don’t notice who.

Your eyes burn continuously from exhaustion and crying.

Still you stay.

Because what if he wakes up? What if he asks for you?

What if—

You can’t not be there.

By hour seven you’ve started bargaining silently with every higher power you’ve never properly believed in.

Please. Take anything. Take sleep. Take years off your life.

Just let him survive this.

Just let him come home.

Please.

Then finally by hour eight the surgery doors open again. This time a doctor steps out removing his surgical cap slowly. And immediately you know this is it.

Your body jerks upright so fast the chair nearly tips over behind you.

Your heartbeat becomes violent. 

The surgeon looks exhausted. Blood still staining part of his scrub sleeve.

You cross the distance toward him before he even fully reaches you.

“How is he?” Your voice breaks halfway through the question

The doctor studies your face for one terrible endless second “He survived the surgery.”

The air leaves your lungs so sharply it hurts.You physically stagger with relief.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

But the doctor’s expression stays serious.

“He lost a dangerous amount of blood,” he continues carefully “There was significant internal damage. We removed the shrapnel we could safely access”

Your chest tightens again instantly.

“He’s critical right now,” the surgeon says honestly “The next twenty-four hours are extremely important.”

Not safe yet. Not stable. But alive. You understand fully what he’s talking about but still it’s like the words are not sinking in. 

You nod shakily while tears spill again despite yourself.

“Can I see him?”

“…Yes.”

And suddenly your legs almost give out from relief and terror all over again.

Because Captain Choi Seungcheol survived.

Barely but he’s still here.

Still yours to hold onto.

The first twelve hours pass with your heart lodged permanently in your throat. You didn’t even dare to sleep even when your eyes hurt and every fibre of your being was beyond exhausted. 

The fear is still flowing stronger in your system that every time you so much close your eyes for 5 seconds, every ugly outcome plays in your head. 

So you stay awake through the night, until the day breaks again and the world continues turning while yours stay suspended. 

Every monitor beep becomes life or death.

Every slight shift in his vitals sends adrenaline through your bloodstream instantly.

You barely sleep. Barely eat. Barely move from the chair beside his bed.

But he makes it through the night.

Then another and another.

By the second day, the doctors cautiously stop using the word critical every other sentence.

By then you finally breathe slightly easier. Not fully but enough to stop feeling like the world might end every time a nurse walks toward his room.

As a doctor, you know exactly what his body is doing right now. Healing takes time especially after trauma like this. You know waking him too early would only strain recovery further.

So instead you wait.

That becomes your entire existence. Waiting, watching, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through machines.

Sometimes talking quietly to him when the room gets too silent.

Telling him about your shifts.

About Nurse Yang threatening to physically drag you home if you didn’t shower soon.

About how Minho nearly cried seeing him in surgery recovery.

Anything. Everything.

Because the idea of him waking up alone feels unbearable somehow.

By day three, nearly everyone on the floor knows you.

The exhausted ER doctor who refuses to leave Captain Choi’s bedside.

The nurses start bringing you coffee without asking, one older nurse even gently scolds you for sleeping bent over his bed like you’re trying to become part of the furniture.

Nurse Yang arrives that afternoon carrying an overnight bag and enough judgment in her face to rival a disappointed mother.

“You look horrible” she says immediately

You nearly cry from affection alone “You came.”

“Obviously.” She hands you the bag then hugs you tightly. Exactly what you needed after all these days.

 “Fresh clothes. Toothbrush. Skin care because frankly this situation is tragic.”

You laugh weakly for the first time in days. Then immediately start crying afterward anyway because exhaustion makes emotions ridiculous.

Nurse Yang hugs you tightly again “He’s alive,” she reminds softly

You nod shakily against her shoulder “I know.”

Still you don’t leave. Even after showering in the hospital facilities and changing clothes, you return right back to his bedside.

Because this is where you belong right now. Beside him. Waiting for him to come back fully.

And finally on the third night Seungcheol wakes up.

At first, it’s pain.

Everywhere.

Heavy. Blunt. Like his entire body’s been shattered apart and stitched back together wrong.

His chest burns. Hiis ribs ache sharply every time he breathes. Something pulls unpleasantly at his arm. Machines beep steadily nearby.

Then memory crashes back all at once.

The mission. The explosion. Blood. Darkness.

And instantly his eyes force themselves open harder.

Disoriented.

The room swims briefly before focusing slowly.

Hospital. Recovery room.

Alive.

Then—

You.

That wakes him fully despite the pain screaming through his body.

His head turns sharply enough to make dizziness hit immediately but he barely notices because there you are curled awkwardly in the chair beside his bed.

Asleep.

Your body slumped at an angle that absolutely cannot be comfortable. Eyes obviously swollen even during sleep. One hand loosely gripping the edge of his blanket even in sleep.

And his hand—

His hand is resting against your cheek like at some point you must’ve taken it carefully and placed it there yourself.

Seungcheol stares at you silently. His chest hurts worse for entirely different reasons now.

You look exhausted.

No—destroyed.

Dark circles heavy beneath your eyes, like the light that was there before he left also went away with him. Cheeks thinner somehow like life drained everything from you the past months he wasn’t present.

His throat tightens painfully.

How long have you been here? The thought alone nearly wrecks him immediately.

Slowly, carefully, he shifts his fingers slightly against your cheek.

Tiny movement but enough to stir you awake. As if even in your sleep, your body is in tune to his movements. 

Your brows twitch faintly then your eyes slowly open. Disoriented at first, heavy with exhaustion. You blink once.

Twice.

Then freeze completely.

Your gaze locks onto his and suddenly you’re awake.

“Cheol?” Your voice cracks instantly

Seungcheol tries speaking but his throat feels wrecked

“…Hey pretty girl.”

The moment you hear his voice awake and real, it took you a second to let it all sink in. And then… you break.

A sob leaves you immediately before you can stop it. You stand so fast the chair nearly crashes backward.

“Hey—”

“Don’t,” you choke out instantly while tears spill down your face “Don’t even start.”

Seungcheol looks at you like he’s seeing sunlight for the first time. Then suddenly you’re gripping his hand carefully with both of yours like you’re terrified he’ll disappear if you let go.

“You idiot,” you whisper through tears “You absolute idiot.”

His lips twitch weakly “There she is.”

“You almost died!”

“I know”

“You promised me!” the words come out broken.

Small, breaking with each syllable and somehow that hurts him more than the explosion ever did.

Seungcheol’s gaze softens painfully while watching you cry beside him. His thumb brushes weakly across your cheek.

“I’m sorry”

“You scared me so bad” your voice shakes violently now “I thought—”

You can’t even finish it because saying it out loud feels impossible. It’s a version of reality you don’t even want to speak out to the universe.

Seungcheol watches you silently for a second before gathering enough strength to squeeze your hand back.

“But I came back.”

That absolutely ruins you. You lean forward carefully immediately, forehead pressing shakily against the back of his hand while you cry silently.

And Seungcheol… even half destroyed. even barely conscious, even in pain looks at you and realizes one terrifying undeniable truth:

Coming back to you was the only thing he thought about while dying.

You cry, you let out all the tears you didn’t know you still had in you even after the past 4 days you’ve cried by his bedside. And Seungcheol, even with the stabbing pain on his side, every bone aching in his body, he holds you close. 

He soothes you as you cry, until it quiets down and you’re sniffling softly still glued to his side. 

You look at him, thankful you get to see those eyes again staring back at you. 

“Don’t you ever, and I mean ever scare me like that again. I swear I will revive you myself just so I can scold you some more” you mumble jokingly, earning a small smile from him. 

Despite the bruises, cuts, and wires still attached to him, you see that dimpled smile. He’s still him. Still your Seungcheol. 

Still the same man who promised he’ll come back to you every single time. 

=

The following weeks settle into something quieter. Like the universe finally decided you both suffered enough for a while.

Seungcheol gets discharged with strict instructions and an even stricter girlfriend.

His doctors barely finish explaining the recovery guidelines before you’re already nodding seriously beside the bed.

“No strenuous activity.”

You nod.

“Limited movement.”

Another nod.

“Absolutely no returning to active duty until cleared.”

You point directly at Seungcheol “You hear that?”

Seungcheol, still pale and sore in the wheelchair, looks entirely unbothered.

“Yes ma’am.”

One doctor snorts into his coffee, another outright laughs but you ignore them.

“This man,” you continue firmly “thinks almost dying means light stretching.”

“It was one time,” Seungcheol mutters

“One time too many” you glare at him

The nurses adore you instantly. Mostly because Captain Choi Seungcheol—terrifying decorated military officer—apparently becomes suspiciously obedient around you.

Back at his apartment, you immediately take over. You of course still refused to leave his side. Not that he minded, he loved it even. Seeing his apartment slowly turn into a shared space with you. 

He sees a plant by the windowsil. He knows you’re definitely the one who put it there. He never stayed home long enough before to bother taking care of anything. 

But that small plant, that was a simple reminder of all the months you waited for him. All the weeks you both were standing opposite sides of the world, under the same sky, different timezones. 

The following days it has become clear you run the house now.  You move his medications into neat schedules. Adjust pillows behind his back before he can complain. Hover whenever he walks too quickly.

And god forbid he tries lifting anything heavier than a water bottle.

On day three post-discharge, you walk into the kitchen to find him reaching for a pan. Your expression hardens immediately.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He freezes mid-reach, slowly glances over “…Yes?”

“Put it down.”

“It’s one pan”

“You have internal stitches.”

“I was making breakfast”

“You were making bad decisions.”

He laughs while obediently setting the pan down anyway.

Honestly, the near death experience somehow made him worse because now he looks at you with this soft, unbearably fond expression every single time you fuss over him.

Like almost dying only made him love you harder. Which is deeply unfair.

A week after discharge, reality unfortunately catches up again.

You have to go back to work.

You stand near the front door in scrubs fixing your ID badge while glaring suspiciously toward the couch.

Seungcheol lounges there comfortably in grey sweats and a black shirt, watching obiediently before he gets scolded yet again. 

Still healing. Still slower moving. Still the prettiest man you’ve ever seen apparently.

“I will know,” you warn seriously, pointing at him “And I mean it, Choi Seungcheol. I will know if you don’t rest today.”

He raises both hands immediately in surrender 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t yes ma’am me”

“Yes doctor.”

“That’s worse.”

His laugh rumbles warmly through the apartment.

God you missed that sound so much.

You grab your bag dramatically “I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“No lifting.”

“Mhm.”

“No training.”

“Mhm.”

“No pretending you’re fine.”

That makes his expression soften slightly “…Okay.”

You hesitate then.

Because even after weeks beside him in hospital beds and recovery rooms, leaving him still feels wrong somehow. Like your body hasn’t fully recovered from almost losing him.

Seungcheol notices instantly.

Of course he does.

His voice gentles “Come here.”

Immediately your eyes widen

“What?” You rush toward him instantly “What hurts? Your stitches? Let me see.”

You’re already kneeling beside the couch trying to inspect him before he starts laughing softly.

“Pretty girl”

“What happened? What hurts?”

“Nothing.”

“You said come here in the serious voice!”

“There’s a serious voice?”

“Yes!”

He chuckles helplessly before catching your wrist gently. Then with surprising ease despite the healing injuries, he pulls you closer until you tumble onto the couch beside him.

“Cheol—careful—”

“I’m okay.”

You immediately check his expression anyway.

So instead of teasing further, Seungcheol reaches slowly beneath your scrub top.

You blink “What are you—”

His fingers find the chain around your neck. The one you’ve worn every single day.

Carefully, gently, he pulls it free. The ring catches softly in the morning light.

Your breath stills immediately.

Seungcheol’s expression changes then. Softer than you’ve ever seen it.

No captain.

No soldier.

Just him.

Just the man who came back to you.

His fingers carefully unclasp the chain while you stare silently.

“You kept wearing it,” he murmurs quietly

Your throat tightens “Of course I did.”

His gaze lifts to yours slowly. Then with infinite care he slides the ring onto your finger.

Exactly where it belongs.

Your breath catches sharply the moment it settles there. Seungcheol’s thumb brushes gently over your knuckles afterward. Staring back down to your finger where now the rings sits beautifully. 

“Told you I’d ask when I came back.”

The tears hit instantly. Again.

You let out a watery laugh while covering your face briefly.

“Oh my god.”

Seungcheol smiles softly. Not teasing, almost nervous somehow. Which feels insane considering this is Captain Choi Seungcheol.

“You’re crying already,” he murmurs

“You almost died!”

“And?”

“And now you’re proposing on a random Tuesday morning!”

“It’s Wednesday.”

You stare at him in disbelief “That’s your defense?”

His dimples appear immediately and despite yourself, despite the tears and fear and everything you’ve both survived—

You laugh.

The kind he was terrified he might never hear again.

Seungcheol watches you like the sound itself keeps him alive.

“I was serious, you know.”

Your laughter fades slowly “I know.”

“When I said I want a life with you.”

Your chest aches painfully because you believe him completely, because you can’t imagine if you didn’t get to live this moment. Because you know you can’t see any other version of you and him but this. 

Together. 

Seungcheol reaches up carefully, fingers brushing stray damp hair away from your face.

“I know my life is…” He exhales softly “Complicated.”

“You got blown up.”

“A little dramatic, yeah.”

You glare instantly “Choi Seungcheol.”

“Sorry” but he’s smiling faintly now. Then serious again 

“I can’t promise easy,” he says honestly “Or normal.”

You shake your head immediately “I don’t need normal.”

His eyes search yours carefully.

“I can promise I’ll love you properly though.”

That destroys whatever composure you had left. Your mouth trembles before you lean forward suddenly and kiss him hard enough he nearly forgets every injury in his body.

Seungcheol makes a startled sound against your lips before immediately kissing you back.

One hand cradling your jaw carefully while the other settles against your waist.

When you finally pull back, both of you breathing unevenly, your forehead drops against his.

And finally, finally he asks 

“I used to think coming home meant a place. I used to tell myself I can’t want that, a future, a normal life. That I wouldn’t llve long enough to long for it. And then came you” he breathes out, the most vulnerable he’s ever been in his entire life. 

This is all him, Captain Choi, your Seungcheol, all versions of him you’ve come to love, completely surrendering to you.

“If I get a second chance at life, I want to spend every second of it with you. Will you marry me?”

You’re crying, laughing, smiling, grabbing at his face as you mumble yes over and over again. 

He laughs, holding you close. 

“You know,” you whisper shakily, “you’re really lucky I’m obsessed with you.”

“Obsessed?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Good,” he murmurs “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since the convenience store.”

You freeze then slowly pull back.

“…What.”

Seungcheol immediately realizes his mistake but it’s too late. Your eyes widen dramatically.

“The convenience store?!”

His ears redden faintly.

You gasp loudly. “Oh my god you fell first”

“I’m recovering, be kind.”

“No absolutely not.”

You grab his face immediately “You were gone for the convenience store girl?”

He groans while you laugh helplessly. Sitting here in his apartment wrapped in morning light, your engagement ring warm on your hand while the man you love looks at you like surviving was worth it—

You realize something quietly wonderful.

You made it.

Against every terrifying possibility.

You made it back to each other.

=

One year later, somehow, the world still hasn’t slowed down for either of you.

Your schedules are still terrible. Your sleep schedules even worse.

There are still nights you come home with blood on your shoes and mornings Seungcheol leaves before sunrise without being able to tell you where he’s going.

Some things never change.

But now, now there’s always someone waiting at the end of it.

And that changes everything.

It’s been one year since the hospital room.

One year since the ring slid onto your finger in his apartment while he looked at you like surviving was the only option.

One year of learning each other’s rhythms completely.

Your toothbrush permanently beside his. His clothes somehow invading every corner of your shared apartment. Your coffee order already waiting before shifts.

His hand automatically finding yours whenever you walk beside each other.

Home becoming less a place and more a person.

Tonight you’re exhausted enough to hallucinate.

The ER was chaos from the second your shift started. You barely sat down once.

By the time you finally clock out close to midnight, your shoulders ache and your brain feels fried.

You’re half listening to one of the nurses complaining about a resident while walking toward the hospital exit when suddenly you stop.

Then immediately bolt “OH MY GOD—”

The nurse behind you yelps in shock as you sprint full speed across the parking lot “Doctor?!”

But you’re already gone. Because leaning casually against a black SUV under the parking lights is Seungcheol.

Freshly back from deployment.

Four weeks gone this time, dhorter than before. Still too long.

The second he sees you running toward him, his entire face softens and then you crash into him hard enough that he actually stumbles backward laughing.

“Hey—” “YOU’RE HOME.”

Your arms lock around his neck instantly while his wrap tight around your waist. Lifting you fully off the ground without effort.

You don’t even care that several nurses and staff definitely witnessed you abandoning professionalism entirely.

Let them.

Your fiancé is home.

Seungcheol buries his face briefly against your neck while holding you impossibly close.

God you missed him.

“You almost tackled me,” he murmurs against your skin

You finally pull back enough to look at him properly. Healthier this time. No visible injuries. No bandages hidden beneath clothes.

Just slightly longer hair, tired eyes, and the familiar warmth that settles in your chest every single time you see him.

Your hands immediately grab his face anyway

“You’re okay?”

Seungcheol smiles softly “I’m okay.”

You inspect him suspiciously “Any scratches?”

“Pretty girl—” “Answer carefully.”

He laughs quietly “No scratches.”

“Good”

Then you kiss him. Right there in the parking lot.

Like you physically cannot help yourself.

Seungcheol kisses you back instantly, one hand warm against your jaw while the other stays firm at your waist.

Somewhere nearby someone whistles loudly.

You break apart immediately glaring toward the hospital doors.

“Mind your business!”

The ER nurse cackles while disappearing back inside. Seungcheol laughs helplessly against your temple.

God, he missed this life.

Later, he drives you somewhere unexpected. A convenience store.

Specifically the convenience store. The one where this entire disaster started.

You stare at him as he parks “…Seriously?”

He shrugs innocently “You said you were hungry.”

“You’re sentimental.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“Correct.”

Now you both sit outside on the little plastic convenience store chairs under bright fluorescent lights.

If someone told either of you that that night was going to change both you’re lives, you wouldn’t believe it. But here you are now. 

You’re wearing his hoodie over your scrubs while inhaling instant ramen like you haven’t eaten in years.

Seungcheol watches you with narrowing eyes

“How much ramen did you eat while I was gone?”

You freeze mid-slurp “…Normal amount.”

“Define normal.”

Silence. Seungcheol already looks unconvinced.

“Babe.”

You avoid eye contact aggressively

“Y/N.”

“…Enough.”

“How enough?”

You point your chopsticks at him accusingly 

“First of all, your fault.”

“My fault you committed sodium crimes?”

“You stocked the pantry with ramen!”

“Emergency ramen.”

“Every ramen is emergency ramen when you work trauma.”

Seungcheol groans while rubbing his forehead

“Pretty girl, that cannot be healthy. You’re literally a doctor.”

You immediately defend yourself “I barely slept!”

“That’s not helping your argument.”

“You think after twenty hours I’m cooking vegetables?”

“Yes?”

“I could barely identify my own reflection.”

He stares at you in disbelief “So you just lived off ramen?”

You mutter into the cup quietly “…Maybe.”

“Yah.”

“What?!”

“Three weeks!”

“I added eggs sometimes!”

He shoots a fond but disappointed look “That’s not nutrition!”

“It’s garnish.”

Seungcheol looks genuinely distressed now meanwhile you continue eating shamelessly. Then suddenly his hand reaches over and wipes broth from the corner of your mouth with his thumb automatically.

The movement is so practiced now neither of you even pauses.

You look at him while chewing slowly 

“…I missed you.”

His expression softens immediately “I know.”

“No, like seriously.” You slump dramatically against his shoulder afterward “I almost started talking to your plants.”

That makes him laugh, the sound still feels like home to you.

“It was dark times.”

You lean more comfortably against him while the cool night air settles around you. Cars pass occasionally. The convenience store doors slide open and shut every few minutes.

Nothing extraordinary and somehow that’s what makes it precious.

Because your lives are anything but ordinary.

Tomorrow you’ll both go back to chaos again. He’ll return to military briefings and dangerous assignments. You’ll return to trauma calls and impossible surgeries.

There will always be risk.

Always uncertainty.

But now there’s this too.

Plastic convenience store chairs at midnight. His hand resting warm on your thigh absentmindedly. Arguing over ramen like an old married couple.

Love woven quietly into ordinary moments between disasters.

Seungcheol suddenly glances at you.

“What?”

He studies your face for a second.

“Still ran toward me.”

Your brows lift slightly.

“Huh?”

“In the parking lot.” His thumb brushes lightly against your knee. “Every time I come back, you still look at me like that.”

Your chest squeezes immediately.

Because he says it like he’s still surprised, like some part of him still can’t fully believe someone waits for him this way.

You set your ramen down quietl before you  lean over and kiss him once.

When you pull back, your forehead rests briefly against his.

“Captain, I would run through wars for you,” you whisper, giggling against his lips. 

He chuckles, not doubting for a second you would. Just like he would, and always will. 

Seungcheol looks at you silently afterward and even after everything he’s survived but nothing has ever hit him harder than that simple promise.

His hand lifts slowly, thumb brushing over your engagement ring glinting beneath the convenience store lights.

Then he smiles softly.

And sitting there beside him one year after everything almost ended, you realize this is what makes all the chaos survivable.

Just this. Him beside you.

Alive.

Loved.

By 8 a.m., you’re surviving purely on five hours of sleep, caffeine deprivation, and spite. Mostly spite.

The ER thankfully isn’t exploding yet, but the overnight shift already left behind enough disaster to ruin your mood.

You stand at the nurses’ station with a chart in hand mid-rant while Nurse Yang calmly drinks tea beside you like she’s witnessed this exact breakdown a thousand times before.

“I’m serious,” you complain “If ortho ignores one more consult page I’m sawing bones myself.”

“Mhm”

“And why,” you continue, flipping through scans aggressively, “did somebody discharge Bed 4 without repeat labs? Why are people like this?”

“Mhm”

“I’m surrounded by incompetence”

Nurse Yang takes another peaceful sip. “You say that every morning”

“Because every morning people continue disappointing me”

Right as you finish speaking, the ER doors slide open. You don’t even look up fully.

“Oh great here we go” you mutter

Instead of chaos, an iced coffee lands gently on the counter beside your chart.

You blink. Look down. Your order. Exactly your order. Your head lifts immediately.

And there he is. Choi Seungcheol stands on the other side of the nurses’ station dressed casually for once. Just broad shoulders and unfairly handsome morning face somehow completely unaffected by the concept of exhaustion.

You stare at him then the coffee then back at him again

“…What?”

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly “You sounded angry over text”

“I am angry.”

“I know.”

Then he casually places another paper bag onto the counter. Curious, you peek inside. Bread. Croissants. Garlic bread. Even melon bread. 

Your head snaps up again.

Seungcheol shrugs once “You didn’t mention which one you liked. So I got a few” 

The nurses around you immediately start making noises.

“Oh my god.

“That’s so sweet.”

“Doctor, marry him.”

“And,” Seungcheol adds calmly, nodding toward another tray behind him, “I got coffee for the staff too”

Head Nurse Yang suddenly smiles at him warmly “Handsome and generous,” she says approvingly 

“Are you perhaps married?”

“Nurse Yang!” You gasp dramatically before Seungcheol can answer 

She ignores you completely “I have nieces.”

“Please stop trying to recruit my man ” you complain immediately. Seungcheol’s eyebrows lift.

Your man.

You point accusingly at Nurse Yang “I called dibs.”

The entire nurses’ station erupts into laughter instantly. Even Seungcheol laughs under his breath. Those stupid dimples appear again. That finally gets a full laugh out of him. Warm and deep enough that several nurses nearby suddenly look interested. 

You immediately grab your coffee before anyone else can flirt with him

“Mine,” you mutter possessively

Seungcheol watches you shove the straw in and take your first sip like your life depends on it. The exhaustion on your face eases almost instantly.

Then you dig into the pastry bag with equal excitement.

“How did you even know my order?” you ask suspiciously between sips

“You complain specifically about bad coffee”

“That doesn’t answer the question”

“You’re predictable.”

You narrow your eyes at him while chewing then point your pastry at him threateningly.

“Careful. I know how to remove organs”

“Yes ma’am.”

Your soul leaves your body briefly. Nurse Yang catches it immediately too because the woman starts smiling into her coffee like she just witnessed something deeply entertaining. You refuse to acknowledge any of it. Instead you focus on the bread aggressively.

Seungcheol leans casually against the counter watching you eat for another moment before nodding toward the hallway.

“Just dropping those off”

Your eyes lift again immediately “You’re leaving already?”

“Office work, reports don't submitt themselves unfortunately,” he says “Then gym. Training.”

You hum quietly, suddenly very aware you don’t actually want him to leave yet. Unfortunately the universe remains committed to ruining your life because a resident suddenly appears beside you looking panicked.

“Doctor, Trauma 2 needs review.”

“There it is.” Back into doctor mode instantly.

“What time are you off?” he asks before you can run away

You glance back while grabbing your chart

“Honestly? No idea.”

He nods once like he expected that answe “Call me. I’ll pick you up”

The nurses around you collectively lose their minds silently behind you. You can literally feel the staring. 

You point at them without looking “If any of you giggle, I’m assigning catheter duty.”

Immediate silence. Then you look back at Seungcheol. And despite the exhaustion, the chaos, the incoming trauma consult… You smile.

“Okay,” you say quietly

By the time you finally step out of the hospital, it’s 4:07 a.m.

The city is quiet in that eerie almost-morning way.

Cold air brushes against your skin as the automatic hospital doors slide shut behind you.

And God you’re exhausted. Your neck cracks painfully when you tilt your head side to side. Your entire body aches from fourteen straight hours of chaos, three emergency surgeries, and one resident who nearly contaminated a sterile field bad enough for you to see your ancestors.

You groan softly while fishing your phone from your coat pocket.

“Cab,” you mumble to yourself. “Need cab. Need unconsciousness.”

Then suddenly your brain catches up.

Cheol.

Your eyes widen “Oh shit.”

You unlock your phone quickly and nearly wince. A few texts. All from him.

The first one around nine.

Cheol: still buried alive in the ER?

Cheol: doctor?

And finally around midnight:

Cheol: You alive?

Your chest squeezes unpleasantly, immediately start typing a reply. Then pause because it’s literally four in the morning.

Any sane person is asleep.

You’re debating whether apologizing via text at dawn counts as emotional terrorism then you hear footsteps echo softly behind you. Seriously considering bolting back inside because you’re the biggest scaredy cat. 

You turn, reado to throw your phone if needed then freeze.

Seungcheol walks toward you from the darker side of the parking area with his hands tucked inside the pockets of a dark hoodie.

No terrifying military aura tonight. Just messy hair from pulling his hood down, tired eyes, and soft grey sweats beneath the parking lot lights.

Less intimidating captain.

More…

Oh no.

More like someone you’d desperately want to cuddle into while sleeping for twelve straight hours.

Mentally, you slap yourself.

Get it together.

“What are you doing here?!” you blurt immediately “It’s four in the morning!”

Seungcheol chuckles quietly, already closing the distance between you both.

“You didn’t reply” Like that explains everything.

He stops right in front of you. Close enough that you can smell faint traces of detergent and coffee on him.

Your sleepy brain finally processes the situation fully.

Slowly, you glance past him. There. His car still parked near the curb.

Your eyes widen then slowly lift back toward him.

“…Wait.”

Seungcheol says nothing.

“…Did you—”

Silence.

“Oh my god.”

“Cheol.”

“You were busy”

“You waited here since nine?!”

He shrugs Like sitting in a hospital parking lot for seven hours is a perfectly normal activity.

Your jaw drops open “Cheol!”

“Oh my god, you could’ve gone home! Rested! Slept like a normal person!”

“I did sleep”

“In the car?!”

“A little”

You look genuinely distressed now. Meanwhile Seungcheol just watches you fuss over him with something warm settling deep in his chest.

Because no one reacts like this over him. Not usually. Most people are intimidated by him first. Careful around him second.

But you, you look personally offended he waited for you.

Your eyes scan him quickly now, checking for signs of exhaustion automatically.

“You look tired,” you mumble

“So do you”

“That’s not the point”

“It kind of is.”

You groan softly and cover your face with one hand “This is insane behavior.”

“You work twenty-hour shifts voluntarily”

“That’s different”

“How?”

“I save lives.”

“So do I.”

You open your mouth. Close it again.

Damn him.

Seungcheol watches the tiny battle happening in your expression and finally laughs properly.

God. That laugh at four in the morning should be illegal.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter.

“And yet,” he says calmly, “you’re smiling.”

Your eyes narrow slightly.

“Did you at least eat?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Again that stupid yes ma’am. Your knees genuinely feel weak from exhaustion and him.

A dangerous combination.

You sigh dramatically before stepping closer and grabbing the sleeve of his hoodie lightly.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?” he asks quietly.

“You waited seven hours in a parking lot,” you say firmly. “I’m buying you breakfast.”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“There’s a twenty-four-hour soup place two streets over.”

“You need sleep.”

“And you need psychological evaluation.” That earns another laugh.

You start pulling him toward the parking lot slowly, still half awake yourself.

Then suddenly stop mid-step. Your grip on his sleeve tightens slightly.

Seungcheol looks down immediately “You okay?”

You stare up at him with sleepy disbelief “…You really stayed.”

The teasing leaves his expression instantly.

Now it’s just him.

“Of course I did,” he says softly.

And that almost hurts worse than any flirtation because nobody says things like that casually. Nobody waits seven hours unless they mean it.

Your chest feels unbearably warm suddenly.

So instead of saying anything embarrassing, you grumble “You’re lucky you’re handsome.”

Seungcheol’s dimples appear immediately “Mm,” he murmurs while opening the passenger door for you

You barely make it five minutes toward the soup place before your body gives up entirely. One second you’re mumbling something about dumplings. the next…silence.

Seungcheol glances over at the red light and nearly laughs.

You’re asleep again.

Completely out cold in his passenger seat with his extra jacket wrapped around you like a blanket. Somewhere between leaving the hospital and getting into the car, he draped it over your shoulders because you shivered once and looked too tired to notice.

Now your cheek is pressed against the seatbelt, arms folded loosely around yourself.

Soft little breaths. Occasional tiny snore. Honestly the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

So instead of waking you, he quietly pulls into the soup place himself, orders takeout. Gets extra side dishes because you strike him as someone who forgets meals constantly. Then returns to the car where you haven’t moved an inch.

The drive to your apartment is quieter this time. The roads are becoming familiar now. That realization settles strangely in his chest too.

Places connected to you slowly becoming familiar territory in his life.

When he finally parks outside your apartment, dawn is just beginning to bleed faint blue into the sky.

You’re still asleep.

Seungcheol sits there for a second just watching you then eventually reaches over carefully. You make a tiny annoyed sound.

Cute.

Dangerously cute.

He unbuckles your seatbelt gently before brushing one hand lightly against your arm.

“Pretty girl.”

Your brows furrow immediately “Mmph.”

“Wake up”

You blindly swat at his hand without opening your eyes “Go ‘way.”

His hand lifts carefully to cradle your cheek instead. Large palm warm against sleepy skin. So impossibly gentle compared to everything he is outside moments like this.

Your eyes finally crack open slowly heavy with sleep.

“…Why are you still handsome at dawn?”

“You’re half asleep.”

“And yet correct” You glare weakly at him while he takes your bag from the backseat then the takeout.

And finally offers you his hand. You stare at it sleepily for one long second before placing yours into it automatically.

Small against his.

He helps you out carefully, keeping his hand around yours while guiding you toward the apartment building. You walk like someone approximately three seconds from collapsing. At one point you drift directly into his side while walking.

The elevator ride is quiet except for your sleepy breathing and the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

By the time he reaches your apartment door with you, you’re practically leaning fully against him.

“Keys,” he reminds softly

“Oh” You blink at your bag like it personally betrayed you. Seungcheol ends up finding them himself with a quiet amused sigh.

When your door finally unlocks, you turn toward him slowly instead of going inside immediately.

“You’re unfair,” you mumble suddenly

Seungcheol’s eyebrows lift slightly “How so?”

You stare up at him for a second too long then admit quietly

“You’re making it really hard not to like you.”

The words hit him straight in the chest. No teasing.

Just you.

You continue before he can answer “And I’ll miss you again…” 

“...when I don’t even know if you feel the same.”

Something in his expression changes instantly. Seungcheol sets the takeout down beside the door quietly before lifting his free hand to your chin.

Tilting your face up carefully until your sleepy eyes meet his fully.

“You know,” he says softly, thumb brushing lightly along your jaw, “I used to not care what happened to me out there.”

Your brows furrow slightly “Cheol…”

“But ever since you…” He pauses briefly like the admission itself surprises him.

Then a small smile pulls at his mouth “All I can think about is you nagging me if I come back with another scratch.”

You laugh sleepily “I would.”

“I know.” His thumb brushes your cheek once more

“And I missed you,” he says quieter now. “Probably more than you missed me.”

Immediately you shake your head stubbornly

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know where I disappear to.”

“I still win.”

Seungcheol chuckles softly “Tough competition then.”

You narrow your eyes sleepily at him “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You sway slightly from exhaustion. His hand immediately settles against your waist to steady you. Instinctive. Protective.

Your gaze drops briefly to where he’s holding you before looking back up again.

“…You’re very soft for a scary military man.”

“Only around you.”

Your heart does one dangerous thing against your ribs.

You point weakly at him “That was smooth.”

“I meant it.”

You groan softly and hide your face briefly against his chest. Seungcheol stills completely. Then slowly…

his arm wraps around you properly.

“You smell nice,” you mumble into his hoodie

“You said that half asleep”

“Still true”

He laughs quietly above your head. The sound vibrates warmly through his chest. You stay there another few seconds longer than necessary.

Neither moving. Neither wanting to.

Eventually Seungcheol brushes his fingers lightly through the loose strands of your hair

“You need sleep, doctor.”

“Mhm.”

“You standing here unconscious doesn’t count.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Dangerous activity at this hour.”

You huff a sleepy laugh then tilt your head up just enough to look at him again.

“…You’ll text me next time before disappearing?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I will”

The problem with only sleeping four hours after emotionally life-altering hallway conversations is that reality resumes anyway.

Which means by morning you’re late. Again.

You rush around your apartment half awake and mildly homicidal toward time itself.

By the time you finally stumble into the elevator, you’re running entirely on chaos.

“Okay,” you mumble to yourself while fixing your coat hurriedly. “Need coffee. Need functioning nervous system. Need people to stop bleeding for one day—”

The lobby doors slide open. You step out quickly then stop dead in your tracks.

Captain Choi Seungcheol leans casually against his car outside the building like he’s been there a while.

Entirely too attractive for seven in the morning.

Your brain takes a second to catch up. Slowly, you walk toward him.

“Admit it,” you say suspiciously. “You didn’t go home”

Seungcheol chuckles quietly, already moving to open the passenger door for you before you even reach the car

“I did”

“You’re lying”

“I showered”

“That’s not what I asked”

His mouth twitches slightly.Then he says something that completely ruins your ability to function normally

“Just savoring the time I can do this.”

You stop right in front of him “…Do what?”

His gaze holds yours steadily “Take care of you.”

Your heart betrays you instantly. Complete menace.

“Get in the car, doctor”

“You’re dangerously charming for this early in the morning.”

“You’re cute when flustered”

“I’m never speaking again”

“Liar.”

You slide into the passenger seat muttering under your breath about military manipulation tactics. Then immediately pause.

There on the dashboard.

Two iced coffees.

One black. One your exact order again. Beside it a breakfast sandwich and a protein bar like he somehow predicted you forgot to eat.

Which you did.

You stare at the coffee slowly yhen back at him then back at the coffee. “…Are you trying to condition me like a stray cat?”

Seungcheol closes the driver’s door and settles beside you calmly

“If it works”

“I knew it”

“You respond very positively to caffeine and attention.”

“You studied me?”

“I observe patterns”

“You sound like a serial killer”

“You still got in my car”

You grab your coffee immediately anyway. The first sip genuinely makes your eyes close. Perfect.

You point accusingly at him while drinking “This is intimacy.”

“Coffee?”

“Knowing my order”

“You’re easy”

You stare at him in betrayal “Excuse me?”

“You complain specifically.” He starts driving smoothly out of the parking area. “Extra espresso. Minimal sugar. Too much ice. Every single time.”

Your jaw drops “You memorized my complaining?”

“You make it memorable” Seungcheol glances sideways briefly

“What?”

“That’s actually insane.”

“What is?”

“You pay attention like someone preparing for an exam.”

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly “You’re important.”

Your ears feel warm instantly “You can’t just say things like that before 8 a.m.”

“Why not?”

“My emotional defenses aren’t awake yet.”

He laughs quietly and god you love that sound already.

The car falls quiet for a moment after that.

Comfortable quiet.

“Hey Cheol?”

“Mm?”

You look over at him “…You waiting seven hours yesterday was insane.”

“No argument there”

“But…” He glances at you briefly. You look down at your coffee cup while mumbling softer:

“…Thank you.”

He reaches over without hesitation and squeezes your knee once gently.

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”

Your pulse jumps embarrassingly fast. You recover by narrowing your eyes at him again.

“Careful.”

“With?”

“This level of treatment is making me emotionally attached.”

Seungcheol smiles slowly like he already knows.

“Too late, doctor.”

=

A few more days passed, then a week turned into two until it’s been a month. Until it became a routine. He’ll drive you to your shifts, wait until who knows what hours. Like clockwork he’ll be there waiting for you. 

Like today.

By your standards, 11 p.m. is practically an early release from prison.

You leave the hospital tired but not soul-crushingly exhausted for once, coat hanging loosely over your shoulders while scrolling through post-op updates on your phone.

And instinctively, before you even fully step out you look for him yhich is dangerous in itself now.

And there he is leaning against the hood of his car beneath the streetlights. Eyes immediately finding you the second you appear.

Usually when he looks at you, there’s warmth there.

Tonight something feels different.

Your steps slow slightly as you approach him. There’s familiarity in that expression and it takes you one awful second to place it.

It’s the same look doctors wear before speaking to families.

The careful one. The preparing-for-impact look.

Your stomach tightens instantly. You stop in front of him and narrow your eyes slightly.

“What’s up with you?” you ask quietly. “You look like you’re about to deliver bad news.”

Seungcheol smiles automatically but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

And somehow that’s worse.

Without answering immediately, he reaches over and takes your bag from your shoulder first like he always does.

Your chest starts sinking before he even says it.

“I’ll be gone.” The words land softly but they hit like a bruise.

You stare at him and immediately understand.

Deployment.

Again.

Your throat suddenly feels tighter than it should. You glance away briefly toward the empty street before looking back up at him.

“How long?”

Seungcheol opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know.

Or…  he can’t tell you.

The silence stretches painfully between you both. Finally you just nod once and walk around to the passenger side quietly.

Seungcheol watches you carefully.

The worst part? He thinks he understands exactly what this means. This is always the part where people pull away.

The reality of him.

He should’ve known better than to let this become something real. Still, he opens your door gently anyway. You slide inside silently.

The drive home feels entirely different tonight.

His chest feels heavier with every passing red light.

He gets it, you’re a trauma surgeon with your own impossible life already. You deserve consistency. Presence. Someone who won’t vanish for weeks into classified silence.

Not someone like him.

And yet selfishly, he already knows he doesn’t want to lose this.

Lose you.

By the time he parks outside your apartment building, the silence has become almost unbearable.

Seungcheol kills the engine slowly. Still neither of you moves immediately.

Then finally he gets out first and walks around to your side automatically. When he opens your door, you step out quietly.

He hands you your bag. You take it.

Still silent.

And for one awful second, Seungcheol thinks maybe this is it.

Maybe this is where things shift. Where reality finally settles between you both hard enough to break whatever this has become.

Seungcheol watches you carefully, already preparing himself to hear ‘Maybe this won’t work.’

Instead you step closer and suddenly your arms loop around his waist.

Seungcheol freezes completely. Like his body stops processing for half a second.

Your cheek presses lightly against his chest.

The relief that hits him nearly knocks the air from his lungs. Slowly, carefully, his arms come around you instinctively. One around your waist, the other settling protectively against your back holding you close.

You exhale softly against him.

“I hate this part,” you mumble quietly

His eyes close briefly “Yeah, me too.”

“You leave,” you whisper, “and I don’t know when you’re coming back”

Seungcheol’s jaw tightens because there’s no good answer to that, no promise he can safely make so instead he just lowers his head slightly until his cheek brushes your hair.

“I know.”

After a moment you tilt your head back slowly to look at him and the second Seungcheol sees your face something shifts.

His gaze drops.

Just briefly.

To your mouth.

Then immediately back to your eyes.

Your breath catches softly and suddenly the air between you changes.

Seungcheol’s hand against your back spreads wider unconsciously pulling you just a little closer like he can’t help it anymore.

“You’re staring,” you murmur softly

“You’re very distracting.”

The city feels far away suddenly. Muted. Like the entire world narrowed down to this quiet stretch of pavement and the man holding you.

The way he’s looking at you like he wants to memorize every detail before leaving again.

“You’ll come back, right?” 

Seungcheol stills.

You continue before he can answer. “You have to.” Your fingers tighten against him a little. “Or I’ll be really, really annoyed.”

The seriousness in your sleepy voice mixed with that tiny pout finally breaks through the heaviness sitting in his chest.

God. You undo him so easily.

His hand lifts slowly to your face then, large palm cradling your cheek with impossible gentleness. Like you’re something precious, something he already knows he’d protect with everything he has.

He never makes promises like that. Not the I’ll come back promise because reality doesn’t work that way in his world.

Deployments go wrong. People don’t always return.

He learned a long time ago never to offer guarantees he might not survive to keep.

But then you look at him like this and suddenly Captain Choi Seungcheol—who built his entire life around caution and control—finds himself wanting to promise you everything.

Your eyes flick briefly to his mouth then back up again.

“Cheol…” the way you whisper his name this time sounds almost fragile.

His chest tightens painfully.

“I’ll come back,” he hears himself say quietly.

And he means it.

God help him, he means it.

Your breath catches amd for a second neither of you moves. His eyes close briefly. When he opens them again, his gaze drops slowly to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

You answer by pulling him down gently and that absolutely destroys what little self-control he had left.

The kiss starts soft. Careful. Like he’s still giving you room to change your mind. Then you melt into him with a quiet sigh and suddenly it becomes something else entirely.

Something deeper.

Months of tension finally snapping.

Seungcheol’s hand tightens slightly at your waist while the other stays cradling your face like he can’t bear to let you go too far.

You taste faintly like iced coffee. He’s pretty sure he’ll never survive that fact again.

Your fingers slide upward against his chest slowly until they curl near his neck.

Closer. Everything pulls closer.

The kiss deepens just enough to steal your breath. Warm and unhurried and devastatingly gentle for someone who looks like him.

And somehow that gentleness ruins you most because Captain Choi Seungcheol kisses exactly like he does everything else with you—

Carefully.

Deliberately.

Like you matter.

When he finally pulls back slightly, neither of you gets very far.

His eyes stay half-lowered toward your mouth like he’s debating kissing you again immediately.

You blink up at him slowly, visibly dazed “…Wow.”

That makes him laugh softly against your lips “You okay, doctor?”

“No actually.” You stare at him accusingly “I think you altered my brain chemistry”

“Only now?”

“You’ve been emotionally manipulating me with coffee for weeks.”

Seungcheol grins properly then. Dimples appearing.

Your knees genuinely weaken a little.

“You can’t leave now.”

“I have to.”

“I know. Still hate it though.”

His hand slides gently into your hair near the base of your neck.

“I know.”

You lean into him unconsciously and for a terrifying second, Seungcheol thinks he could get addicted to this frighteningly fast.

To you waiting for him.

Holding him.

Kissing him goodbye like there’s someone expecting him to return now.

Your eyes search his one more time before you mumble softly:

“…Come back to me in one piece, Captain.”

Something inside him shifts permanently at those words.

He kisses your forehead this time.

Lingering.

Then quietly answers:

“Yes ma’am.”

=

Before you, four months would’ve passed like nothing to Captain Choi Seungcheol.

Deployment was deployment. Time blurred overseas anyway. Days became operations. Operations became reports. Sleep became optional.

Coming home eventually was simply part of the cycle.

But now every single exhausting day ends with thoughts of you.

The first month away, he catches himself checking the time difference automatically.

The second month, Minho nearly loses his mind because Captain Choi who historically ignored his phone like it personally offended him—is suddenly staring at messages during breaks.

By the third month, Minho officially brands him hopeless. 

There are nights overseas where everything feels too loud. Too dangerous. And for the first time in his life, Seungcheol finds himself genuinely wanting to survive beyond duty alone.

Because now there’s someone waiting for him.

Someone who’d be really, really annoyed if he didn’t come back.

So he does.

One Hundred Twenty One days later.

At exactly 10:14 p.m., your phone lights up while you’re sitting cross-legged on your couch wearing one of his hoodies and arguing with takeout noodles.

One message.

Cheol: Outside.

You stare at the screen then immediately bolt upright so fast you nearly throw the noodles across the room.

“No way.”

Your heart starts pounding violently before you even reach the door.

You don’t bother with shoes properly.

By the time you’re sprinting through the apartment lobby, your breathing is already uneven, the doors slide open.

And there he is.

Captain Choi Seungcheol stands beneath the apartment lights in dark civilian clothes, duffel bag hanging from one shoulder.

And suddenly nothing else exists.

“Cheol—” You run.

His entire face changes the second he sees you then you crash into him hard enough that he has to brace automatically. 

Seungcheol catches you effortlessly around the waist as momentum carries you straight into his chest.

Your feet literally leave the ground.

And God the feeling of you in his arms again after three months nearly wrecks him on impact. You hold onto him so tightly it almost hurts, like letting go isn’t an option anymore.

“Oh my god,” you breathe shakily against his neck “You’re back.”

He laughs softly, arms locking around you just as tightly.

“I’m back.”

“You’re here.”

“Yeah, pretty girl.”

“You’re actually here.” Your voice cracks slightly on the last word and suddenly Seungcheol’s chest aches.

Because he missed this too much. Missed you too much.

He buries his face briefly against your hair and just holds you there while you keep repeating variations of:

“You’re back.”

“You came back.”

“Oh my god.”

Like your brain still hasn’t fully accepted it yet.

Eventually you pull back just enough to look at him. Your hands immediately cup his face like you need proof he’s real.

Tired eyes. Slight stubble. Familiar scar near his jaw. Still handsome enough to genuinely irritate you.

Your eyes go suspicious instantly “When did you get back?”

“Earlier today.”

You blink “Earlier today?!”

Seungcheol winces slightly.

“I landed around noon.”

“And you’re only here now?!”

He laughs quietly at your offended expression.

“Mandatory checkups. Debriefings. Reports.”

Immediately your expression changes. Doctor mode activates. You pull back further from his arms abruptly and start inspecting him.

Seungcheol blinks “…What are you doing?”

“Checking.”

“For?”

“Scratches.”

His laugh breaks out immediately “You’re unbelievable.”

“You lost scratch privileges after calling a bullet wound minor.”

Your hands move over his arms, shoulders, neck. Checking. You even narrow your eyes while examining a faint bruise near his wrist.

“What’s this?”

“Training.”

“Mhm.”

“It is.”

“Suspicious.”

“You’re interrogating me in the parking lot.”

“You made me wait 4 months. You get no rights.”

“I’m okay.”

Your eyes lift to his finally and soften instantly.

He really came back okay. Relief crashes into you all over again so hard your eyes sting unexpectedly. Seungcheol notices immediately.

Then immediately hide your face against his chest again when he smiles.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you missed me.”

His arms tighten around you slowly and when he answers this time, his voice comes quieter.

“I did miss you.”

Your heartbeat stumbles hard.

Then softly, almost disbelievingly, you whisper 

“You really came back to me.”

And thhat one sentence almost undoes him completely.

Seungcheol smiles the second you say it. Then his arms pull you back against him fully, holding you close like he’s still reassuring himself you’re real and standing here.

“I promised, didn’t I?” he murmurs against your hair

Then unfortunately he ruins the moment on purpose “Besides,” he adds casually, “Nurse Yang said she’d introduce me to her nieces if I come back soon—”

“YAH!” You smack his chest instantly. Hard enough to make him laugh.

“I waited three months,” you complain dramatically, glaring up at him. “Three months! I had to literally shoo away anyone who even attempted flirting with me—”

His eyebrows lift immediately “Oh?”

“And,” you continue pointing accusingly at him now, “I cried at least three times because I missed you—”

“At least?”

“Minimum.”

His entire expression softens so fast it nearly derails you.

Now he’s looking at you like you’ve said something precious, every exhausted flight and every miserable deployment day was worth getting back to this exact moment.

To you.

Seungcheol realizes it fully now. somehow you walked into his carefully controlled life and made yourself essential frighteningly fast.

Four months away only proved it harder.

He’s in love with you.

Completely.

Hopelessly.

The realization settles deep and certain in his chest buthe doesn’t say it yet.

Not now. Not yet. Instead, his mouth curves slowly.

“Someone flirted with you?”

You scowl immediately “Yes!”

“What happened?”

“I said absolutely not.”

His grin grows “Oh really?”

“Yes,” you say with full seriousness. “I told them I have a scary boyfriend who can snap them in half.”

Seungcheol laughs softly

“Professionally,” you add proudly

“Important distinction.”

“Very.”

His hands settle lower against your waist while he looks at you carefully now.

he says casually. “So I’m the boyfriend, I take it?”

Your entire face warms instantly “You waited until now to focus on that?”

“I’m enjoying it”

You narrow your eyes suspiciously “You’re smug.”

“You called me your boyfriend.”

“Well technically—” “Say it again.”

You blink “…What?”

“That.” His dimples appear again “Boyfriend.”

Your stomach flips embarrassingly fast “You’re annoying.”

“Mm.”

“And emotionally manipulative”

“You still missed me”

And suddenly the months hits you all over again, months of wondering if he was okay, of checking your phone constantly.

Then suddenly his forehead presses gently against yours again. Familiar now. Your fingers curl lightly into the front of his shirt.

“You better not disappear that long again”

“I’ll try.”

“Not good enough.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You exhale a sleepy laugh.

Then his gaze drops slowly to your mouth and this time neither of you pretends not to notice. Seungcheol’s hand slides from your waist upward until it settles along your jaw carefully.

“You know,” he says quietly, “I thought about this a lot overseas.”

Your pulse jumps “…This?”

“Kissing you again.”

Your brain genuinely short-circuits a little “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I just did.”

“You fight dirty”

“I learned from a trauma surgeon.”

And then he kisses you again. you laugh softly against his mouth right before he kisses you again.

And God.

It’s worse this time. Or better. Definitely more dangerous because now there’s no hesitation left. Just relief and missing each other and months of pent-up affection crashing together all at once.

His hands pull you closer instinctively while yours slide up around his neck.

The kiss deepens slowly, warm and lingering enough to steal your breath.

Seungcheol kisses like he’s savoring.

Your fingers slip into his hair lightly and he exhales softly against your lips at the touch. That sound alone nearly destroys you.

When he pulls back briefly, you barely let him get an inch away before kissing him again yourself.

Which surprises him enough to make him laugh quietly into the kiss.

“There she is,” he murmurs

“Shut up.”

“Missed me bad, huh?” You kiss him again instead of answering. And that was the best answer.

=

The first thing you register is warmth.

The second, the alarm. A loud obnoxious blaring noise cuts through the room and immediately you groan in protest, blindly burrowing deeper beneath the blankets.

“No,” you mumble into the pillow “Absolutely not.”

Instead of cold empty sheets though, an arm tightens around your waist instantly.

Your half-asleep brain catches up slowly as you instinctively turn and bury your face against Seungcheol’s neck instead. He smells like soap, sleep, and faint traces of your shampoo now.

Your favorite combination apparently.

The alarm keeps going somewhere obnoxiously nearby. You ignore it with professional skill.

“M’not going,” you grumble sleepily against his skin

A low sleepy laugh vibrates beneath your cheek.

Then suddenly realization hits. Your eyes crack open slightly.

Wait.

It’s your day off.

You smile instantly against him.

Before you can even tell him though, Seungcheol’s already reaching one hand toward the nightstand blindly without letting go of you. Still half asleep himself.

Hair messy. Voice rough with sleep.

God.

Morning Seungcheol might genuinely become your weakness.

Not that nighttime Seungcheol isn’t already one.

Especially after last night. Technically yes, nothing happened.

Not fully anyway.

But also the memory of his mouth against yours in the kitchen at 2 a.m. His hands on your waist pulling you against him slowly. The way he kissed down your neck once just to hear the tiny sound you made.

Dangerous.

You hide your face further into his neck immediately before your brain fully replays the rest.

Seungcheol finally grabs the phone and squints at the screen with one eye open.

Then sighs “It’s Minho.”

You snort softly.

He answers quietly, voice still rough and low from sleep “What.”

From the speaker, Minho immediately sounds offended “Wow. Good morning to you too.”

Seungcheol closes his eyes again briefly while keeping you tucked against him.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve been calling you for ten minutes.”

“I was asleep.”

A dramatic gasp echoes through the phone “Oh my god. You stayed over.”

You start laughing silently against Seungcheol’s neck while he rubs tiredly at his forehead 

“You called me for this?”

“I called because you disappeared after saying you’d be home eventually.”

“Mhm.”

“So you’re with her right now.”

Silence which unfortunately confirms everything. Minho immediately starts screaming loud enough that you hear muffled yelling through the phone.

“Keep your voice down.”

“NO. CAPTAIN CHOI SEUNGCHEOL SLEEPS OVER NOW?”

You bite your lip hard to stop laughing. Seungcheol glances down at you and immediately catches your shoulders shaking.

His eyes soften instantly. Meanwhile Minho continues spiraling.

“You used to sleep on military cots voluntarily! And now look at you!”

“Are you done?”

“No, I’m emotionally invested now—”

You shift slightly against Seungcheol trying to steal more warmth. The movement makes your oversized sleep shirt slide slightly off your shoulder.

Seungcheol’s eyes flick downward instinctively.

Then stay there one second too long.

Your sleepy smile grows immediately.

Caught.

He exhales quietly through his nose.

“Bye” Then hangs up before Minho can protest further.

And now there’s just you tangled around him like you belong there and honestly? You already kind of do.

You mumble something incoherent against his neck again. Seungcheol chuckles softly.

“What was that?”

“Warm”

“That helpful, huh?”

“Mhm”

His hand slides slowly up and down your back beneath your shirt absentmindedly.

You tilt your head up slightly finally to look at him.

God.

Sleepy Seungcheol is unfair, wearing that soft expression that only seems to exist around you and suddenly your chest hurts a little from how much you missed this without ever even having it before.

His gaze lingers on your face quietly. Then drops to your mouth.

Then back up again.

“You’re staring,” you mumble

“You’re very distracting in the morning.”

You grin sleepily “You say that at night too.”

“Consistent”

Your hand slides lazily across his chest. Comfortingly solid beneath your fingertips.

And right here he realizes he wants this more than he’s ever wanted anything.

The years spent convincing himself that attachment complicated things… none of it stands a chance against this feeling, against you half asleep in his arms wearing his shirt and mumbling threats about leaving the bed.

His thumb brushes slowly along your waist beneath the blanket.

And with startling certainty, Captain Choi Seungcheol realizes he wants his nights like this. His mornings too.

With you.

Always with you.

He can’t even pretend otherwise anymore, not when you fit against him this naturally.

Not when every part of him already quietly decided—

You’re his.

And somehow, terrifyingly enough—

He’s entirely yours too.

You mumble against his chest, voice still thick with sleep “Can we just stay in bed?”

Seungcheol chuckles immediately, fingers lazily tracing along your back beneath the blanket.

“Tempting,” he says softly. “But give it twenty minutes and you’ll start complaining about caffeine and food”

You sigh happily once he pulls you closer then mumble dramatically

“But tomorrow I have to go back to work.”

“Mhm.”

“And wake up early.”

“Mhm.”

Actual full doctor pouting like an offended child. Seungcheol laughs softly again, unable to help himself.

“You’re cute”

“I’m suffering”

“You’re on top of a heated mattress with no shift today”

“I suffered emotionally”

“That’s not a medical condition”

“It should be”

He shakes his head fondly before suddenly moving. In one smooth motion, he shifts until you’re beneath him instead, sinking deeper into the mattress while he braces himself above you.

Your breath catches immediately.

Because wow.

Morning Seungcheol hovering over you with sleepy eyes and messy hair should genuinely come with warning labels.

He smiles down at you slowly. Entirely too handsome.

“I can just be here again.”

Your eyes flicker over his face.

“Drop you off at work,” he continues quietly. “Pick you up after.”

You shake your head immediately “No?”

You point at him accusingly from beneath him.

“I missed you too much. So, I’ll just file for leave and stay here.”

Seungcheol laughs properly this time.

“You’re a doctor.”

“And?”

“You save lives.”

“Mhm.”

“You can’t abandon the hospital because your boyfriend came home.”

You narrow your eyes “Watch me.”

Seungcheol lowers himself slightly closer until your noses brush “You’re trouble.”

“You love it”

His gaze lingers on your mouth. “Yeah,” he admits quietly. “I really do.”

Your heart stumbles hard enough that he definitely feels it beneath him.Then before you can recover he kisses you.

You sigh softly against his mouth almost immediately, hands sliding up into his hair lazily. Seungcheol melts a little at the feeling.

The kiss deepens naturally after that. Still soft with sleep and morning light and relief but there’s something hungrier underneath it now too. Months apart lingering in every touch.

His hand slides along your waist beneath the oversized shirt you stole from him sometime during the night. Your skin warm beneath his palm.

You shiver slightly at the touch.

Seungcheol immediately smiles against your lips “Sensitive.”

“Shut up.”

He kisses you again before you can glare properly.

Then again.

And again.

Because he can. Because he wants to.

Because after one hundred twenty one days overseas wondering when he’d hold you again, he suddenly feels deeply unwilling to stop touching you now that he finally can.

At one point you’re laughing quietly because he keeps kissing you every time you try speaking

“Cheol—” Kiss. “Seriously—” Another kiss. “I’m trying to—”

He kisses you again just to hear your laugh.

“There,” he murmurs smugly against your mouth “Better.”

“You’re impossible in the morning”

“You’re clingy in the morning”

“I missed my boyfriend.” The words come out absentmindedly.

His expression softens instantly.

You notice immediately “…What?”

His thumb brushes your cheek gently “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

A small smile pulls at his mouth

“Just like hearing you say that”

And somewhere between sleepy laughter, tangled blankets, and too many kisses to count you both silently realize neither of you is getting out of bed anytime soon.

=

Just like that, Captain Choi Seungcheol becomes stitched quietly into the fabric of your life like he was always meant to settle into all your exhausted corners.

Mornings become his hand warm at your lower back while guiding you sleepily toward his car before shifts.

Nights become tired dinners eaten on your couch with your legs thrown over his lap while he half listens to your hospital rants.

On the rare days both your schedules somehow align, entire afternoons disappear inside your apartment doing absolutely nothing important.

And somehow those become your favorite days. The ordinary ones.

The ones where he’s sprawled across your couch in grey sweats reviewing reports while you nap against his shoulder.

It’s domestic in a way that sneaks up on both of you.

For the nights he stays over, he wakes up with you before dawn without complaint. Even when you know he slept barely four hours himself.

Some days are busier. Harder. Those are the days you’ll get random texts from him between meetings or training.

And slowly, without either of you noticing exactly when it happened, the world starts becoming divided into:

Before him. And after him.

Still there are moments when the fear creeps in quietly. When he’s asleep beside you after days without rest. Or when his head rests against your lap while you comb your fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

Those moments hit hardest because sleeping Seungcheol looks younger somehow. Less captain. Less soldier. More just… him.

A man carrying too much responsibility on broad tired shoulders.

You’ll study the faint lines of exhaustion near his eyes and think about all the places he disappears to without being able to tell you.

Think about the kind of calls that pull him away suddenly. The dangers you’re never fully allowed to know.

And your chest aches every single time.

Not because you resent him. Never that.

If there’s anyone who understands duty swallowing whole pieces of your life, it’s you.

You know what it means to choose work over sleep, over meals.

Over yourself.

You know what it means standing inches from death while trying to drag someone back from it.

You understand that terrible instinctive thing inside both of you.The one that says: People need me. So I go.

That’s why you never ask him to choose.

Neither of you needs explanations for those things. You just understand.

Maybe that’s why this works.

But still the battlefield he walks into is different from yours.

Yours is fluorescent lights and operating tables and controlled chaos. His is uncertainty. Weapons. Missions that return him home months later with new bruises he tries hiding from you.

And even though he promised he’d come back, you know the truth. He can never be fully certain.

So instead, you start savoring things. Every sleepy morning. Every coffee run. Every forehead kiss before shifts. Every night he instinctively reaches for you in his sleep.

You memorize the sound of his laugh when he’s genuinely relaxed.

The way he says “pretty girl” quieter when he’s tired.

The feeling of safety every time his arms close around you.

Because loving someone whose life is uncertain teaches you quickly… Ordinary moments are never ordinary.

They become everything.

You love him.

Not sudden. Not dramatic. Just certain.

You love Captain Choi Seungcheol enough that the uncertainty no longer outweighs the wanting. Enough that even knowing the risks, you’d still choose him every single time.Enough that when he falls asleep beside you after another impossible week, you look at him and think: I could do this for a very, very long time.

=

Being awake for thirty-six hours straight does strange things to your brain.

Mainly you stop filtering thoughts ehich is why you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes rambling sleepily in Seungcheol’s passenger seat about one resident who tried stitching a wound “like he was crocheting.”

“He held the forceps like chopsticks,” you mumble dramatically, head leaned against the window “Cheol, I almost resigned.”

Beside you, Seungcheol laughs quietly while driving “You say that every shift.”

“This time I meant it.”

“Mhm.”

“And then,” you continue, pointing weakly, “someone coded because apparently the universe hates me personally.”

“You saved them.”

“I know.” You sigh deeply

His hand reaches over briefly, squeezing your thigh once gently

“Proud of you.”

Your exhausted heart immediately melts.

You yawn hugely afterward and close your eyes briefly. The roads are quieter now.

Less familiar. No turn toward your apartment.

Your eyes slowly open again “…Wait.”

Seungcheol hums innocently. You sit up slightly and look outside. The buildings are taller here. Very much not your neighborhood.

You narrow your eyes at him immediately “Captain Choi Seungcheol.”

“That’s me.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place”

Your eyebrows lift “You have a place?”

That finally gets a laugh out of him “Yes, pretty girl. I do occasionally live somewhere.”

“Why do I feel like you just revealed a second secret family?”

“You’re dramatic when sleepy.”

“I’m observant.”

“Mhm.”

The car finally pulls smoothly into a sleek underground parking entrance.

Your jaw drops a little “Oh.”

Seungcheol glances over briefly, amused already “You okay?”

“No because what is this?”

“You’ve been awake too long.”

“No,” you point at the parking structure accusingly, “this is suspiciously rich.”

“It’s an apartment building.”

Then things somehow get worse because the moment you both step into the lobby, security immediately nods respectfully at him.

Even the hallway carpeting feels wealthy.

You blink slowly while following him toward his door “…You live here.”

“Observant again.”

“Shut up.”

Seungcheol unlocks the apartment casually before stepping aside to let you in first.

Then you walk inside and actually stop.

“Oh my god.”

The apartment is stunning. Just quietly expensive. Clean lines. Dark neutral colors.

The entire place feels exactly like him somehow. Not a single plant.

You turn slowly in a circle then immediately whirl toward him in betrayal

“All this time,” you say incredulously, “you had this luxury apartment and we stayed at mine?!”

Seungcheol chuckles while setting your bag down near the couch “It’s not luxury.”

You stare at him then gesture wildly around the apartment.

“This is literally rich people air.”

“It’s just an apartment”

“You have windows taller than my future”

You continue wandering slowly while shaking your head “I knew military paid well but—”

Your eyes catch on something near the shelving unit. Several plaques. Medals. Pins. Awards carefully arranged with quiet neatness.

Not displayed arrogantly. Just… present.

Your expression softens immediately.

Slowly, you step closer. Most of them mean nothing to you technically but you know enough to understand what they represent.

Service. Danger. Things survived. Things sacrificed.

Your fingers hover near it carefully “…These are yours?”

Seungcheol goes quieter behind you “Yeah.”

A home belonging to someone rarely allowed to stay long enough to live in it fully. You notice there aren’t many personal decorations.

No traces of permanence like the apartment was built for someone constantly prepared to leave again.

Your chest tightens unexpectedly “You’re barely here, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol leans lightly against the kitchen counter watching you “Not usually.”

Then his gaze softens slightly while looking at you standing there among pieces of his life.

You look around once more slowly and the apartment suddenly makes perfect sense.

Of course this is where Captain Choi Seungcheol lives. Everything about it screams him.

You walk back toward him slowly until you’re standing right in front of him.

“One question.”

“Mm?”

“How much does this couch cost?”

His dimples appear instantly “Go shower, doctor.”

“That means it’s expensive”

“You drooled on yourself in the car”

“That’s not related”

He reaches over and tugs you gently closer by your wrist anyway. Warm hand wrapping around yours easily.

“Stay tonight.” The way he says it feels different somehow.

Your tired heart melts immediately. You look up at him and smile softly.

“…Only if you cuddle me.”

“Dangerous thing to demand from a man who missed you all day.”

Your face warms instantly “You flirt too much.”

“You like it”

He’s right.

The shower helps a little.

You change into one of Seungcheol’s shirts left neatly on the counter for you and towel dry your hair while walking barefoot through the apartment.

The moment you step out though you stop.

Seungcheol sits at the dining table, a few papers spread neatly in front of him.

The city lights spill softly through the windows behind him, casting half his face into shadow.

And immediately something feels wrong.

You try lightening it anyway “This,” you say slowly while approaching, “looks like every divorce scene in all dramas ever written.”

Seungcheol chuckles softly but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes and that alone makes your stomach drop.

You slowly pull out the chair across from him and sit.

He looks tired suddenly.

Not physically.

Something deeper.

Then finally he speaks. “These are…” He glances down briefly at the papers “Forms to update my records at the base.”

Your chest tightens.

“Emergency contacts, authorizations. Next of kin.”

Your breath catches instantly.

Different careers.

Same meaning.

You know exactly what papers like these are for.

The room suddenly feels colder “Cheol—”

Only then does he finally look at you and the expression in his eyes almost wrecks you immediately.

“I need to go,” he says quietly “Soon.”

Your fingers tighten slowly together beneath the table.

“How soon?”

“…Day after tomorrow.”

The air leaves your lungs.

“This time…” Seungcheol starts then stops.

His jaw tightens slightly. He can’t finish it. Doesn’t need to. You already understand.

Higher risk. More covert. More dangerous.

Which means the possibility hanging unspoken between you both suddenly becomes too real to ignore.

Your hands begin shaking before you even realize it.

Slowly, you reach for the papers. Your eyes skim them but don’t really process the words.

You’ve been on the other side of conversations like this before. You’ve watched families shatter after one phone call. You’ve stood in quiet hospital rooms delivering impossible news while trying to hold yourself together professionally.

But this… this rattles you differently.

Because now it’s him. Your boyfriend. 

Your vision blurs suddenly.

Seungcheol watches your hands tremble around the papers and something painful twists across his face immediately.

“Hey,” he says softly but your chest hurts too much now.

“You said you’d come back,” you whisper shakily.

“I will.”

“But you can’t know that.”

Silence.

Seungcheol exhales slowly then leans back slightly in his chair like he’s making a decision.

Then quietly he reaches into his pocket. Your brows furrow faintly through the blur in your eyes.

“What are you—”

“Before you panic,” he says immediately, which is an absolutely terrible opening.

He reaches across the table gently for your hand. Warm fingers wrapping around your shaking ones and then he places something small into your palm.

Your breath catches sharply.

A ring.

Just beautiful. Simple. Solid.

Very him.

You look up immediately, stunned “Cheol…”

Before you can say anything else, he speaks first like he needs to get the words out before losing courage

“I’ll ask properly when I come back.”

Your heart cracks wide open. Seungcheol’s thumb brushes shakily against your knuckles.

“So you know,” he says quietly, voice rougher now, “that I fully intend to.”

The tears spill instantly after that.

One second you’re trying to stay composed, the next you’re crying so suddenly it almost surprises you.

Seungcheol moves immediately. Chair scraping sharply against the floor as he crosses to you without hesitation.

“Hey, hey—” He kneels in front of you fast, hands gently holding your face while you cry harder than you intended to.

Not graceful tears. Real terrified emotional ones… because you love him. Because you understand exactly what all this means. Because the idea of losing him feels unbearable now. And because somehow this terrifying man just handed you a promise disguised as a ring.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper brokenly

“For what?”

“I don’t know.” You laugh wetly through tears “Everything.”

His expression softens so painfully it nearly undoes you again.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs gently, brushing tears from your cheeks carefully “Don’t cry like this.”

“You can’t just—” You inhale shakily. “You can’t just hand me a ring before a dangerous mission.”

“I know.”

“That’s insane behavior.”

A tiny helpless smile appears on his mouth “You still haven’t said no.”

You stare at him through tears then let out a disbelieving laugh.

Your fingers close tightly around the ring and suddenly the fear shifts into something else too.

Certainty.

Because even terrified like this, even knowing exactly what loving him means…

You already know your answer.

His forehead lowers carefully against your knee while his hands stay wrapped around yours.

And for the first time since you walked into the dining room—

Captain Choi Seungcheol finally lets himself look scared too.

“I need to come back because I want a life with you after this.”

And that breaks whatever was left of your composure completely. You slide from the chair onto the floor with him immediately, arms wrapping tightly around his neck while he catches you against him.

You bury your face against him crying quietly while he presses kisses into your hair over and over.

“I love you,” you whisper shakily for the first time without planning to.

Seungcheol freezes then his arms tighten around you so hard it almost hurts.

Like hearing those words from you physically wrecked him.

His face presses briefly against your shoulder before he finally whispers back:

“…I love you too.”

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzz overhead loud enough to make your headache worse.

Your scrubs are hidden beneath your coat, but the exhaustion still clings to you like a second skin. Twenty-one hours awake. Two trauma surgeries. Your shoulders ache as you stand in front of the drink fridge debating whether caffeine at 1:17 a.m. is self-care or self-destruction.

Probably both.

The cashier is half asleep behind the counter. The entire store smells like instant ramen and rain dragged in from outside.

Then

“Give it back, asshole.”

A younger voice. Nervous. Angry.

You glance toward the back aisle. four teenage boys crowd around another kid near the cup noodles section. School uniforms half worn properly, faces carrying that dangerous mix of boredom and ego.

One of them is holding a backpack above his head while the smaller boy tries to grab it back.

“Hyung, seriously,” the smaller one mutters “Stop.”

The tallest teen laughs “Then say please.”

You sigh quietly. Apparently the universe saw your exhaustion and decided you weren’t suffering enough tonight.

You shut the fridge door. The slam makes them look over.

“Hey,” you call out, voice flat from fatigue more than fear “Give him his bag back.”

The boys blink at you. “Now.”

The tallest one smirks “Yah, noona,” he says lazily “Just go home.”

You should. You absolutely should.

Instead you fold your arms.

“I’m giving you exactly five seconds before I decide to become extremely annoying”

The smallest boy looks like he might cry from relief someone intervened.

The taller teen scoffs “Why do adults always act like—”

“Four seconds.”

“You think we’re scared of—”

“Three.”

Another one snorts  “She’s crazy.”

You’re too tired to even deny it “Two.”

The tallest boy starts walking toward you instead. Your eyes narrow.

“Kid,” you warn “I work in trauma surgery. Do you know how little teenage intimidation affects me after seeing a man arrive with a knife through his thigh?”

That actually makes two of them hesitate but the leader keeps coming.

“Scary,” he mocks “What are you gonna do? Lecture me to death?”

You open your mouth when suddenly someone bumps lightly into your shoulder from behind.

Not hard hust enough presence to announce itself.

Instantly the air changes.

There’s a man standing beside you now. Tall. Broad enough to block half the aisle light. Black jacket. Black cargo pants. Combat boots darkened by rainwater. One gloved hand holding what looks like keys.

And his face—

God.

Sharp eyes. Strong jaw. Cold expression carved perfectly still. Not just handsome.

Dangerous almost.

The kind of man people instinctively move around. One glance from him and the entire mood in the store drops ten degrees.

The tallest teenager straightens immediately. You notice it right away, that shift.

Predators recognizing a bigger predator.

The man doesn’t even look at them fully at first.

He looks at you. His gaze flicks once over your tired face, your hospital ID hanging from your coat pocket, then toward the boys.

Calmly, he asks, “Problem?” His voice is low. Controlled.

Military. Or something authoritative because that much aura can’t be tied to a desk all day.

One of the boys immediately shakes his head “No, hyung.”

The man finally turns toward them completely. It’s subtle, but you catch it.

The posture. The alertness. The kind of stillness that screams trained.

“Are you bothering her?” he asks

“No.”

“Bothering him?” He nods toward the smaller teenager, they all stay silent which was answer enough.

The captain—because there is absolutely no way this man isn’t somebody’s terrifying superior officer somewhere—takes one slow step forward.

That’s it. One step and the boys immediately crack.

“Sorry!”

“We were leaving anyway—”

“Let’s go, let’s go.”

The backpack gets shoved back into the younger boy’s chest before the group practically trips over themselves escaping the store.

The bell above the door jingles violently as they disappear into the rain.

Silence settles. The younger teen bows rapidly at you both.

“Thank you,” he blurts before hurrying out too.

And just like that, it’s over.

You exhale slowly. Your adrenaline crashes almost immediately after. The man beside you finally looks down at you properly.

Up close, he’s even worse.

Broad shoulders stretching beneath dark fabric. Wet black hair pushed back carelessly. A faint scar near his jaw.

While his eyes linger on the dark circles beneath yours.

“You shouldn’t confront groups alone,” he says

You stare at him then laugh once in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

His eyebrow lifts slightly “I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious when I say I’m too tired to tolerate being scolded by Batman”

For the first time, his expression shifts. Barely.

“You do this often?” he asks

“What? Interfere when kids are acting stupid?”

“Yes” You shrug tiredly and walk toward the fridge again.

“I’m an ER doctor. My entire career is built around interfering when people are acting stupid.” you continue.

You grab two canned coffees without thinking. When you turn around, he’s still watching you like he’s assessing every movement automatically.

Definitely military.

You hold one coffee out toward him.

“A peace offering since you apparently saved me.”

“I didn’t save you.”

“No?” You tilt your head “Those boys looked one second away from peeing themselves.”

“They were kids.”

“Mm. Terrified kids.”

He takes the can from your hand finally. His fingers brush yours briefly. Warm despite the cold rain outside.

“Choi Seungcheol,” he says after a moment.

“Military?” you ask. He raises a brow at your question so you continue,

“You’re too scary to be an office worker, you’re dressed in all black and let’s not get started on your combat boots”

That earns a chuckle from him.

“Military, Captain. And you? Doctor?” he points at your ID and scrubs under your coat

You nod once  “Y/N.”

“You’re just Y/N?”

“You’re just Captain?” Another almost-smile. Dangerous how attractive that becomes on his face.

The cashier awkwardly clears his throat from the counter like he’s been witnessing a drama unfold in real time.

You both walk up to pay.

“You’re getting off work now?” Seungcheol asks

“At this point I basically live at the hospital.”

“What kind of doctor?”

“Traum, ER, general surgery.”

That finally gets a real reaction from him. A slight widening of the eyes. “You do emergency surgery?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s rough.”

You snort softly “You say that dressed like you came straight out of a classified mission.”

His gaze flickers toward you “Something like that.”

You pay for the coffees When you step outside, the rain has softened into a drizzle. Streetlights reflect gold against wet pavement.

You pull your coat tighter around yourself.

Then notice the black motorcycle parked near the curb. Of course he rides that.

Seungcheol catches you looking “You disapprove?”

“I know the statistics of how many injuries per month are caused by that very vehicle” you say honestly then look at him, head to toe” It’s annoyingly fitting.”

He actually laughs this time, low. Brief. It changes his whole face. You hate how handsome it is.

“You parked far?” he asks

“A block away”

“I’ll walk you.”

You immediately shake your head “That’s unnecessary.”

“At 1:30 in the morning?”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know ” The answer comes instantly. Certain and somehow that makes you pause because he really means it.

Then he gestures down the sidewalk “Come on, doctor.”

Captain Choi Seungcheol looked at you like he already knows you’re capable of handling yourself.

He just doesn’t want you doing it alone tonight.

=

It’s been a few days.

To Seungcheol, you were supposed to be one of those strange late-night encounters people forget after a week.

A tired doctor. A convenience store. That should’ve been it.

Except he remembered things annoyingly well.

Your name. Your face. The hospital ID hanging from your coat. The way you looked half dead but still stepped in front of a group of idiots without hesitation.

And apparently that information decided to stay lodged in his brain.

Which is why he’s currently standing inside the samer hospital he saw printed on your ID badge at nearly noon on three hours of sleep, staring at the giant directory board near the lobby while his best friend talks endlessly beside him.

“I’m telling you, it feels way better already,” Minho says while flexing his shoulder dramatically beneath his hoodie  “I think the medic overreacted.”

“You got stabbed.”

“It barely pierced.”

Seungcheol gives him a flat look.

Minho grins shamelessly “You worry too much, Capt”

They’re waiting outside OPD wing after Minho insisted he was “completely fine” for three straight days before finally admitting he couldn’t lift his arm properly.

The hospital around them moves like organized chaos.

In the thirteen minutes they’ve been standing there, Seungcheol has counted at least nine staff members rushing past.

Nurses pushing carts. Residents jogging with tablets in hand. A doctor speed-walking while eating half a sandwich and reading scans simultaneously.

It reminds him too much of command centers before operations.

Everyone moving with purpose. One mistake meaning disaster.

Life and death.

Just cleaner here. More fluorescent lighting. Less guns.

“You’re not even listening,” Minho complains

“Hm.”

“I said after this we should eat samgyeopsal.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s always a good idea.”

Seungcheol’s attention drifts again toward the ER hallway visible from the waiting area. Your hallway he assumes. He wonders briefly if you’re down there right now yelling at residents.

Then, all of a sudden

“Clear the way!”

The voice cuts sharply through the corridor. Immediate.

Everything shifts instantly. Nurses move aside. Orderlies straighten. People clear space without hesitation.

Seungcheol turns automatically toward the sound snd sees you.

For one suspended second, the entire hallway narrows into a single scene. A trauma bed flies through the corridor surrounded by staff.

You’re on top of it. Actually on top of it. Kneeling over the patient while the bed moves at full speed.

Your bloody gloves press down hard against someone’s chest.

“BP crashing!” Your voice slices through the panic perfectly steady.

“Resume compressions.”

You’re still wearing dark blue scrubs, sleeves shoved to your elbows. Blood streaks across your forearms. There’s something smeared near your jaw you clearly haven’t noticed.

But your face… your face is terrifyingly focused. Locked in.

The same way Seungcheol has seen soldiers during active operations. Pure training taking over.

He watches your hands move with brutal precision.

Compression. Count. Check. Compression. Count.

“Move!”

The bed rushes past. You don’t even notice him standing there. You’re too busy keeping someone alive.

And somehow that hits him harder than expected. Beside him, Minho goes unusually quiet.

“…Whoa.”

The trauma team disappears through double doors. Silence returns slowly afterward.

Distant announcements overhead.

But Seungcheol still stares at the doors. His military career has put him in firefights, covert extractions, hostage situations.

He knows pressure. He knows adrenaline.

Minho lets out a low whistle “Your doctors here are insane.”

Seungcheol’s eyes stay on the trauma doors.

Almost twenty minutes later, he sees you again. You come walking down the corridor slower this time, peeling off bloody gloves with tired movements.

There’s another doctor beside you speaking quickly about scans “…possible splenic rupture but neuro says pupils reacted after—”

“I know,” you interrupt while signing something on a clipboard mid-walk  “Page me the second CT is uploaded.”

Then you finally look up. And stop.

Your eyes land on him instantly. Recognition flashes then confusion.

Captain Choi Seungcheol stands near OPD hall looking offensively calm in all black while your hospital looks like it’s actively collapsing around you.

You blink once “What are you doing here?”

His gaze flicks over the blood on your scrubs “You work like this every day?”

You look down at yourself briefly

“Oh” You rub absently at the stain near your jaw and fail to remove it entirely “Pretty standard Wednesday.”

“It’s Friday,” Minho says helpfully. You stare at him.

“…I genuinely didn’t know that.”

That finally makes Seungcheol huff out a laugh. Small but you notice it immediately.

Annoyingly attractive.

The other doctor beside you looks between the three of you curiously before muttering something about checking scans and walking off.

Then it’s just you, Seungcheol, and the very energetic stranger beside him. Minho brightens immediately.

“I’m Minho,his co-worker, bestfriend, confidante, drinking buddy” he says enthusiastically, immediately you wonder how a man like him is friends with a man like Sengcheol but also it makes total sense.

“OHHH wait you’re the convenience store noona!”

You freeze. Slowly turn toward Seungcheol.

“…You told your friend about me?”

“I mentioned a doctor.”

“He absolutely did not just mention a doctor,” Minho says instantly  “He remembered your full hospital name from your ID badge—”

“Enough.”

You look back at Seungcheol with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t even look embarrassed.

If anything, he looks mildly annoyed his friend exposed him.

“So,” you say slowly “Captain Choi Seungcheol remembers details, huh?”

His gaze meets yours steadily “Yes.”

And for some reason, with alarms ringing somewhere deeper in the ER and your pulse still running on adrenaline that single word affects you more than it should.

You glance down at the chart in your hands, then back at them. That’s when you notice both men staring at you.

You blink. Then laugh tiredly.

“What?” You gesture vaguely to yourself “Need stitching up too?”

Minho looks alarmed for half a second before Seungcheol points toward your face.

“There’s blood on your chin,” he says

Automatically your hand flies there “…Ah”

Your fingers come away red. Right. You probably look horrifying.

You huff a laugh “I look like a crazy person right now.”

“You look like you fought someone.”

“I kind of did.”

Your answer comes so naturally both men go quiet for a beat. Then you shake your head slightly and look back at Seungcheol.

“But seriously,” you say, “why are you here?”

His expression stays calm as ever “Not me” Then he points beside him.

“Him.” Minho immediately waves enthusiastically again.

You stare at him for one second before laughing despite yourself and waving back with your bloodied hand.

“That’s somehow more concerning.”

“He’s dramatic,” Seungcheol says flatly

“I heard that!”

“You were meant to”

You snort softly then somewhere deeper in the ER, an alarm suddenly starts blaring. Immediately your posture changes.

Doctor mode again.

Your head turns toward the sound before your brain even catches up. One of the nurses appears around the corner.

“Dr. Y/N, they need you in Trauma 2”

“I’m coming.”

You look back at the two men.

“Well,” you say while already walking backward “try not to stab yourselves again.”

“It was one time,” Minho protests

Then you disappear back through the swinging ER doors.

For a few seconds Seungcheol keeps staring after you.

The automatic doors swing shut.

Silence.

“Oh my god.”

Seungcheol doesn’t look away from the hallway “Don’t”

“So someone has a crush.”

That finally makes him turn. Slowly. Dangerously.

Minho grins wider immediately “You remembered her hospital, her department, her name, the fact she works ER—”

Seungcheol elbows him hard in the ribs

“OW—yah!”

“You talk too much”

“You absolutely like her!”

“I met her twice”

“Exactly.” Minho points dramatically toward the ER doors “And you already got the brooding military man stare going on.”

“I always look like this.”

“That’s somehow worse.”

Seungcheol exhales through his nose and looks back toward the trauma wing again despite himself.

Minho nudges him again with a grin “You should ask for her number next time”

“There won’t be a next time.”

Right then, one of the ER doors swings open again. You walk out halfway, scanning a chart while speaking to a nurse beside you.

Then absentmindedly, you look again towards their direction and you lift your hand and wave once in their direction before disappearing again.

Minho bursts out laughing instantly.

“Oh you are finished”

=

Two months passed. Eight weeks.  Which, in your life, feels more like Eight hours.

Trauma cases blur together. Overnight surgeries become afternoon consults become thirty-minute naps in the call room before another emergency rolls in.

You forget meals. Forget what day it is. Forget to answer texts for three days straight.

But somehow you don’t entirely forget Captain Choi Seungcheol.

Mostly because that would require forgetting a face carved by some genuinely unfair higher power.

Not that it matters. You saw him twice and honestly, you assume he forgot about you too.

Military men like him probably disappear for months at a time doing things you legally shouldn’t ask about.

Then Wednesday evening happens.

Oddly calm for once. No active traumas. No screaming. You’re sitting at the nurse station reading through post-op charts while sipping coffee that tastes vaguely like burnt regret.

One of the nurses pokes her head around the corner.

“Dr. Y/N? OPD asked if someone can check a laceration. They’re short staffed.”

“Mhm. I’ll do it ” You grab the chart absentmindedly while walking.

Male. Thirty. Forearm injury. You barely register the name. Your eyes are too focused on lab notes as you push aside the curtain.

Then freeze.

Oh.

Captain Choi Seungcheol sits on the examination bed in a black compression shirt with the sleeves pushed up.

You haven’t seen him in two months and somehow he still manages to look unfairly intimidating in fluorescent hospital lighting.

His gaze lifts immediately when you walk in. There’s a split second where genuine surprise crosses his face.

“There you are,” he says. Like he’s been expecting you specifically.

You blink once “…Why are you in my hospital bleeding again?”

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly “It’s not serious.”

You glance down toward the blood-soaked gauze wrapped around his forearm

“Mm,” you hum dryly “And I’m the queen of England.”

He actually huffs a laugh at that. You set the chart down and move closer. Only then do you notice the faint exhaustion beneath his eyes.

Like he hasn’t slept properly in days. Deployment, your brain supplies immediately.

You pull on gloves “What happened?”

“Scratch”

You slowly look up at him then deliberately peel back the gauze and immediately stop.

“…Captain.”

“It looks worse than it is.”

You stare at the deep graze tearing across his arm. Your eyes narrow slightly.

“That’s a bullet wound.”

“Barely.”

“Bullet wounds count as scratches now?”

“It grazed me”

“By definition, that is still being shot”

His eyes stay on your face while you work. Calm. Observant.

“You know what a bullet wound looks like?” he asks you, the question is casual but there’s something underneath it.

You continue cleaning the injury carefully “Apparently I do”

“You sound experienced”

You shrug one shoulder “Volunteer work overseas during residency”

“Where?”

“Borders near conflict zones mostly.” You pause. “Refugee camps. Emergency field hospitals”

You continue inspecting the wound.

“You?”

A faint smile touches his mouth “That’s classified”

You snort softly “Of course it is.”

“But yes,” he says after a second “Conflict zones”

You nod once like that explains everything because somehow it does.

You’ve seen soldiers before. Not polished recruitment-poster versions ,the exhausted kind, men who scan rooms before resting. Men who downplay injuries because pain becomes background noise eventually.

Captain Choi Seungcheol fits into that category too easily.

You disinfect the wound and he doesn’t even flinch.

“Either you have insane pain tolerance,” you murmur, “or your nerves are damaged”

“I’ve had worse.”

You glance at him briefly. That sentence unsettles you more than it should.

You begin stitching carefully. The room grows quieter.

Outside the curtain you hear distant announcements overhead, nurses chatting faintly, rolling carts passing by.

Inside just you and him.

“You disappeared” you say before thinking The words slip out accidentally.

Why did you say that?

But Seungcheol doesn’t look surprised

“Deployment,” he answers simply

“For a 8 weeks?”

“Longer than expected”

Your eyes flick toward him again. “And you came back straight to the hospital?”

“You’re here”

The answer comes so naturally you almost miss the implication entirely.

Your fingers still. Slowly you look up and he’s already watching you completely serious.

Your heartbeat does one very annoying thing against your ribs. You clear your throat and go back to stitching.

“You flirt terribly for someone this handsome”

That finally earns you a real laugh. Low and warm and rough around the edges from exhaustion.

“You think I’m handsome?”

You don’t even look up “I think you’re bleeding on my examination bed.”

“That wasn’t the question”

You tie off another stitch tighter than necessary. He doesn’t complain.

“You survived covert deployment missions,” you say coolly “You’ll survive not getting compliments.”

“Mm.” but he’s still looking at you like he already won anyway

You finish the last stitch and snip the thread cleanly.

“There,” you murmur “Try not to get shot again for at least a week.”

You peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin before leaning back slightly against the counter.

Now that the immediate task is done, the room settles into something quieter.

More dangerous somehow because Captain Choi Seungcheol looking at you while not actively bleeding is significantly harder to ignore.

Your eyes drift back to his face unintentionally.

Sharp nose. Strong jaw. Tired eyes. And apparently dimples.

You blink once.

Hold on.

He has dimples? You narrow your eyes slightly at him like this is personally offensive.

“What?” he asks

“You have dimples.”

That actually catches him off guard for half a second then he laughs softly again. And there they are. Deep enough to completely ruin your composure.

Oh, you’re in trouble.

You look away first before your dignity fully evaporates.

“So,” you say casually while writing notes on his chart, “safe to assume a man with a dangerous job like yours is single?”

His eyebrow lifts “That’s your professional medical assessment?”

“Absolutely.”

He leans back slightly against the bed, arms folding carefully to avoid the fresh stitches “And what’s the diagnosis based on?”

You pretend to think about it seriously. “Emotionally unavailable tendencies. Mild insomnia. Chronic work obsession.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“It should.”

He watches you for another second before the corner of his mouth lifts again “Safe to assume a woman with a job like yours is also single?”

“Would you like me to confirm or deny?”

His eyes sharpen immediately at the challenge.

“I’d like an answer.”

“Mm ” You tap the pen lightly against the chart “Maybe I enjoy keeping mysterious military captains stressed”

“You think I get stressed?”

“You came into a hospital with a bullet wound and called it a scratch” You tilt your head. “That’s either confidence or brain damage.”

“That’s not an answer either.”

“You’re persistent.”

“You’re avoiding.”

You stare at each other for one suspended second then your pager suddenly explodes to life against your waist.

Of course.

You close your eyes briefly. The hospital truly refuses to let you experience peace for more than twelve consecutive seconds. You glance down at the screen and sigh.

“Trauma consult,” you mutter

Seungcheol watches the immediate switch happen again. The way your entire posture changes instinctively the second work calls.

Like someone flipping a switch.

You grab another pair of gloves from the counter.

Before leaving, you pause by the curtain and look back at him.

“Come back in three days,” you say “I’ll check the wound.”

One of his eyebrows lifts slowly then that smug little smirk appears.

“A date then?”

You stare at him. Honestly stare.

Because the audacity.

Then, against your own will, you feel yourself smiling.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Captain”

“But you’re asking to see me again”

“Medically”

“Mm.”

“And if you reopen those stitches before then,” you continue while backing toward the door, “I’m charging you emotional damages”

His gaze follows you effortlessly.

“What if I come back without reopening them?”

You pause then point at him once.

“That,” you say, “depends how charming you manage to be in three days”

And before he can answer you disappear through the curtain again.

Leaving Captain Choi Seungcheol sitting alone in the examination room with fresh stitches, a slightly racing heartbeat, and the sudden realization that he is absolutely coming back in three days.

=

Three days later, you accidentally spend fifteen whole minutes staring at yourself in the hospital bathroom mirror.

Which is ridiculous. Actually ridiculous.

You’ve gone to work looking half dead for years. You’ve stitched arteries together after thirty-hour shifts looking like a raccoon dragged out of a hurricane.

And yet today you actually combed your hair properly. Your usually rushed bun is neat for once, not held together by stress and blind faith.

You even put on the faintest lip tint. Nothing dramatic.Just enough to make you look less like the hospital crypt keeper.

And the perfume— god. You haven’t touched that perfume in months.

One spray. That’s it.

You blame sleep deprivation. Clearly your frontal lobe is failing.

The second you walk into the ER station, Head Nurse Yang narrows her eyes at you immediately.

Ms. Yang has worked trauma nursing longer than you’ve been a surgeon.

Nothing escapes her. Not fear. Not exhaustion and apparently not lip tint either.

“Hm,” she hums suspiciously

You don’t look up from the charts in your hands “What?”

“Something’s different”

You keep your voice perfectly casual “Huh?”

Ms. Yang continues staring.

“I don’t see it,” you say quickly

“Mhm.” That single hum holds seventy years of judgment.

You ignore her mostly because if you acknowledge it, you’ll have to admit you spent ten entire minutes deciding between two shades of lipstick this morning like a lunatic.

The ER stays surprisingly manageable through most of the afternoon.

A motorcycle accident. Two fractures. One drunk guy insisting his traffic cone was “emotionally supportive.”

Standard Wednesday.

By around three, you’re finishing notes at the nurse station when one of the younger nurses approaches with an amused smile.

“Dr. Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Your patient is here” Something in her tone makes your eyes narrow immediately.

“My patient?”

The nurse tries—and fails—to hide her grin.

You look up and there he is. Captain Choi Seungcheol stands near the ER entrance in dark jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt rolled to his forearms.

No tactical gear this time.no visible injuries beyond the healing stitches beneath his bandage which honestly makes him worse somehow.

Because now there’s nothing distracting you from the fact he looks unfairly good standing under fluorescent hospital lights.

His gaze lands on you instantly. His eyes sharpen slightly.

You stand slowly from your chair.

Behind you, Ms. Yang suddenly makes a tiny noise of realization “Oh.”

Traitor. You ignore her with dignity. Mostly.

Seungcheol walks over calmly, hands tucked loosely into his pockets

“You look different,” he says immediately

You cross your arms “You sound like Head Nurse Yang.”

Your stomach betrays you in the most embarrassing way imaginable by flipping slightly. Professionalism. Remember professionalism.

You clear your throat “Did you reopen the wound?”

“No.”

“Fever?”

“No.”

“Pain?”

“Manageable.”

You nod once  “Good. Follow me.”

You lead him toward one of the smaller examination rooms, painfully aware of at least three nurses watching with open interest. The second the door closes behind you, the atmosphere changes.

Quieter.

You gesture toward the examination bed.

“Sit.”

You step between his knees to unwrap the bandage carefully, and immediately realize this was a tactical mistake because now he’s close.

Way too close.

You catch traces of clean soap and something woodsy beneath it. Your perfume probably mixes with it in the tiny room.

Fantastic.

You focus on the wound instead. The stitches look good. Healing cleanly. No infection.

“You listened,” you murmur while inspecting the skin

“I follow orders sometimes”

“Liar”

A soft laugh rumbles from his chest. You glance up instinctively… big mistake because he’s already looking at you.

Not your hands. Not the wound. You. Your fingers still briefly against his arm.

There’s a beat of silence.

“You wore perfume”

Your eyes widen slightly. Oh, he’s observant-observant.

You recover quickly “You noticed?”

“You walked in and three nurses looked at you like they’d discovered hospital gossip for the next month”

“I’m transferring departments.”

He laughs quietly again and there are those stupid dimples. You finish rewrapping his arm carefully.

“Captain, if you flirt while I’m holding scissors, that’s on you”

“I think you like me.”

You look up slowly “Oh?”

“You haven’t denied it once.”

The confidence on this man.

Honestly.

You tie off the bandage tighter than necessary. He doesn’t even react.

“You military men are exhausting”

“And yet,” he says calmly, “you wore perfume”

You finish securing the clean bandage around his arm carefully, fingers smoothing the tape against warm skin.

“Alright,” you say, slipping back into your practiced doctor voice before this room gets any more dangerous. “Keep it dry and clean for another week. No heavy strain on the arm.”

“Yes ma’am.” Your hand pauses for half a second against his wrist.

Oh.

Oh that voice should genuinely come with a warning label. Low. Smooth. Obedient in the most deliberate way possible.

You recover professionally. Mostly.

“Don’t lift anything stupid,” you continue calmly

“Yes ma’am.”

Your soul briefly leaves your body. You clear your throat and refuse to acknowledge the fact your ears suddenly feel warm.

“Also,” you say while reaching for the chart a little too quickly, “if the wound opens, if you get feverish, dizzy, increased pain, redness—come back immediately.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You finally look up at him properly. His expression is completely composed. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

And the worst part? He absolutely does.

You narrow your eyes slightly “You seem very pleased with yourself right now”

“I’m following instructions.”

“You’re weaponizing manners.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. Those stupid dimples appear again.

You need the universe to stop giving this man additional attractive features.

For public safety.

You finish scribbling notes onto his chart before setting the clipboard aside.

Then casually—very casually—you say:

“And for the record…”

His gaze lifts immediately. You peel off your gloves slowly, tossing them into the bin.

“I can actually look like this,” you gesture vaguely toward yourself, “on a good day.”

There’s a beat of silence. Seungcheol looks at you fully then.

His eyes move over your neat hair, your glossed lips, the perfume he already noticed, the version of you that exists outside blood stains and overnight exhaustion.

Then he breaks into a smile. Warm enough to completely transform his face.

Dimples and all.

“Here I was,” he says softly, “thinking you were going on a date”

You raise an eyebrow immediately while reaching for the discharge forms.

“I thought this was one.”

Silence. Then Seungcheol smirks. Slowly. Like he enjoys watching you land hits back just as much as giving them.

Dangerous man. Absolute menace.

You sign off the chart and step outside the room where the assigned nurse is very obviously pretending not to eavesdrop. She startles slightly when you hand her the paperwork.

“Discharge complete” you say with suspicious professionalism.

“Yes doctor,” she answers equally suspiciously.

You turn back toward Seungcheol as he stands from the examination bed.

You pull a business card from your coat pocket and hold it out to him.

“My direct line,” you say

His eyebrows lift slightly as he takes it.

“You know,” you add casually, “for whenever there’s emergency anything.”

His thumb brushes over the card once while reading your name. Then he looks up at you slowly.

“Emergency anything?”

You cross your arms lightly “Bullet wounds. Concussions. Poor decision making.”

“What category is asking you to dinner under?”

Your breath catches for the tiniest second.

This man.

You tilt your head “Depends.”

“On?”

“How good the restaurant is.”

He chuckles quietly “Yes ma’am.”

And there it is again.

That damn yes ma’am.

You genuinely have to look away for a moment just to preserve what’s left of your composure.

Behind you, the nurse suddenly makes a choking sound suspiciously similar to holding in laughter.

Traitor.

You point toward the hallway before your dignity fully collapses.

“Out,” you say firmly. “Before I prescribe bed rest permanently.”

Seungcheol starts walking backward toward the exit, eyes still on you.

“Dinner Friday?”

“You’re very confident for someone recently shot.”

“You gave me your number.”

“For emergencies.”

“Meeting you sounds medically necessary.”

You actually laugh then. Real enough that a few nurses glance over curiously.

And Seungcheol notices that too. The fact he made you laugh and something softer flickers across his face for half a second.

Then he taps your card lightly against his chest pocket.

“I’ll text you, doctor.”

And somehow that simple promise feels far more dangerous than any bullet wound ever could.

=

Friday arrives surprisingly fast.

Mostly because your week disappears under consults, surgeries, and one forty-eight-year-old man who somehow managed to fracture his wrist trying to “race” his nephew.

But eventually—

Friday.

Your actual rest day.

Which feels fictional.

You wake up without an alarm for the first time in weeks and stare at your ceiling in confusion for a solid thirty seconds.

Then your phone lights up.

Seungcheol: 7pm. Don’t be late, doctor.

You smile before you can stop yourself.

The entire afternoon becomes embarrassingly unfamiliar territory for you because apparently you no longer know how to prepare for things outside hospital shifts.

You stand in front of your closet way too long. Reject three outfits. Reject four more and eventually settle on something simple but nice enough to make you feel human instead of clinically exhausted.

You even do your hair properly this time instead of throwing it up in survival mode.

When Seungcheol texts offering to pick you up, you refuse immediately. Mostly because the thought of him seeing you standing outside your apartment nervous makes you want to launch yourself into traffic.

So instead you agree to meet there.

The restaurant he picked is one of those impossible-to-book places tucked between city streets glowing warm with hanging lights and low music.

Packed even on a Friday evening. The kind of place where conversations melt together softly and plates constantly clink against tables.

Then the restaurant doors open.

And there he is. Black button-up. Sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Dark jeans. Hair slightly damp like he showered quickly before coming.

You hate how immediately your stomach flips.

His eyes find you almost instantly across the restaurant.

Then soften like seeing you relaxes something in him automatically.

God help you.

He reaches the table and pauses just long enough to look you over openly.

“You look pretty.”

Straight to the point. No hesitation. You blink once at the sincerity of it.

Then recover enough to smirk lightly.

“You clean up well yourself, Captain.”

“I tried.”

“I can tell.”

His dimples appear briefly when he pulls your chair out for you.

Oh you’re doomed. Absolutely doomed.

Dinner starts easily after that. Too easily.

Conversation flows without effort somehow.

You learn he drinks coffee black enough to qualify as chemical warfare. He learns you once fell asleep standing up during residency and scared an intern half to death. You tease him for being terrifyingly observant. He teases you for pretending not to care while clearly caring a lot.

The food arrives eventually and thankfully lives up to the hype.

At one point you’re halfway through laughing because he admitted Minho once accidentally set off an alarm during training—

Then his phone rings.

Everything changes instantly.

You see it happen in real time. His posture straightens before he even answers.

Eyes sharpen. Expression hardens.

Soldier.

He checks the caller ID once and immediately stands.

“Excuse me.”

You nod quietly. He answers the call a few steps away from the table.

“Yes sir.”

Pause.

“I understand.”

Another pause.

“I’m on my way.”

By the time he hangs up, his jaw is tight. And when he looks back at you—

There it is.

That look.

You know it immediately. Too well.

You’ve worn it yourself after interrupted dinners, canceled holidays, sleepless nights.

Duty first. Always.

The guilt of leaving. The frustration of having no choice.

He walks back over quickly “Y/N, I—”

You smile before he can finish “Go.”

His expression tightens further

 “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s—” “Seungcheol.”

That makes him stop. You lean back slightly in your chair, softer now.

“I get it.” And you do.

Completely.

Because trauma surgery isn’t kind either. You’ve left meals untouched. Missed birthdays. Walked away from people mid-conversation because somebody somewhere stopped breathing.

You know what it means when lives depend on you showing up.

You’ve lived it. So you just smile gently and say:

“Duty calls.”

Something in his expression shifts at that. Like relief mixed with something heavier.

“We can reschedule,” you continue lightly. “Seriously. It’s fine.”

For a second he just looks at you like maybe he expected disappointment or anger or someone who wouldn’t understand this part of him.

Instead you simply hand him an easy out. No guilt attached.

“You sure?” he asks quietly

You nod once “Go save the world, Captain.”

A breath of a laugh leaves him. Then he reaches for his wallet immediately. You open your mouth to protest.

“Don’t,” he says. You close it again. He pays quickly, apologizes to the waiter, then turns back to you one last time.

“You’ll text me when you get home?” There it is again. Even rushing toward danger, he’s still making sure you’re okay first.

You smile softly “Yes, Captain”

He stares at you for one second then laughs despite himself.

“Troublemaker.”

“Go.”

Reluctantly, he does. You watch him disappear through the restaurant doors.

A few moments later you hear it, the deep rev of his motorcycle outside. Then it fades rapidly into the night as he speeds away toward whatever emergency dragged him from dinner.

And strangely enough you don’t feel upset.

Disappointed maybe. A little. But not because of him, mainly because you wanted to spend more time with him.

But mostly you understand him now maybe more than either of you expected.

=

Thirteen weeks pass after the interrupted dinner. 91 Day.

Thirteen long, busy, exhausting weeks.

At first, you check your phone more than you should. Not obsessively. Just… enough to annoy yourself.

A part of you knows better.

Captain Choi Seungcheol warned you from the start without really saying it outright.

Covert assignments. Deployments. Disappearances.

The kind of job where silence sometimes means safety.

Then two days after your date, the news breaks.

Some international incident overseas. Nothing detailed. Just enough military presence mentioned for your stomach to twist unpleasantly.

You stare at the television mounted in the hospital cafeteria longer than necessary.

Then force yourself back to work because that’s what both of you do, apparently.

You throw yourself into surgeries. Into consults. Into twenty-hour shifts and caffeine and organized chaos. And eventually you stop expecting texts.

Stop glancing at your phone every hour.

You accept it quietly.

This is what being involved with someone like him means.

Long silences. Uncertainty. Waiting without asking questions.

Still, sometimes late at night between cases, you think about him.

About dimples and smug smiles and black motorcycles disappearing into the dark.

And annoyingly enough—

You miss him.

Which feels absurd considering technically you only had one almost-date.

Tonight the ER is chaos again.

Not trauma-level chaos. Just deeply irritating chaos.

A group of men got into a massive fight outside some nightclub and now half of them are crowded into emergency bays drunk, bleeding, loud, and incredibly uncooperative.

One has a broken nose. Another possibly fractured ribs. One guy keeps trying to flirt with nurses while actively vomiting.

You’re already tired.

Now you’re tired and annoyed.

“Sit still,” you say sharply while trying to examine a cut above one patient’s eyebrow

The man smells aggressively like alcohol.

“I’m fine,” he slurs

“You’re bleeding on my floor.”

“You’re pretty.”

“And you’re concussed.”

One of the nearby guards snorts quietly. The drunk patient suddenly jerks his arm away.

You grab for gauze before it falls and the man shoves you unexpectedly.

Everything happens fast.

Your balance tips backward instantly. You’re already mentally calculating how badly this floor is about to hurt when a solid arm catches you around the waist before you hit the ground.

Firm. Steady. Immovable.

You inhale sharply. The familiar scent hits first.

Soap. Leather. Cold night air.

Then warmth.

You look up immediately.

And your heart nearly stops.

Captain Choi Seungcheol stands behind you in full uniform. Not casual clothes. Not civilian. Uniform.

Dark tactical gear still dusted faintly with dirt like he came straight from somewhere far away.

Broad shoulders. Heavy boots. Black gloves.

And his face—Jesus. He looks terrifying. Cold enough to freeze the entire room.

The guards straighten instantly.bEven the drunk men go quieter.

Seungcheol barely notices any of them at first. His eyes scan you rapidly instead.

“You hurt?” The question comes immediately.

Your brain short-circuits slightly because he’s here. Actually here.

You blink once “I’m fine.”

His hand remains firm at your waist another second longer like confirming it himself. Only when he’s certain you’re steady does he move. Then suddenly you’re being guided gently behind him.

Protected instinctively.

The shift is so natural it almost startles you.

Seungcheol steps between you and the drunk patient completely.

The room changes instantly.

The drunk guy straightens defensively. “Who the hell are—”

“Sit down.”

The command slices through the ER. Absolutely lethal underneath.

The man actually hesitates.

Seungcheol’s gaze locks onto him steadily “You assaulted medical staff.”

“I barely touched—” “You put your hands on a doctor while intoxicated inside an emergency department.”

“You will sit down,” he says evenly, “and you will cooperate with treatment.”

The drunk man scoffs weakly. “Or what?”

Behind Seungcheol, you almost sigh. Poor idiot.

Because you’ve seen that look before now. The hypercontrolled one. The one soldiers get when violence becomes an option they’re actively suppressing.

Seungcheol tilts his head slightly.

“Or security removes you,” he says calmly. “And I become significantly less polite.”

Then immediately the drunk man sits.

One of the guards coughs suspiciously like he’s hiding laughter. You cross your arms behind Seungcheol, trying very hard not to look affected.

Failing horribly.

Because good lord.

There’s something deeply unfair about this man appearing out of nowhere looking like a military recruitment poster designed specifically to ruin your emotional stability.

The patient mutters curses under his breath but stays seated now.

Seungcheol waits another moment before finally turning back toward you. And instantly his expression changes again.

Softer.

Like the terrifying soldier disappeared the second he looked at you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

You stare at him.

Weeks of no messages. No calls. Then suddenly he’s here catching you mid-fall like some absurd action movie entrance.

Your brain struggles briefly.

“You vanished,” you blurt out before thinking.

His eyes flicker slightly “I know.”

The answer is quiet and annoyingly sincere.

You open your mouth then another patient across the room starts yelling.

The universe truly hates timing.

Seungcheol notices immediately and huffs the tiniest breath of amusement.

“You’re busy.”

“You think?”

His gaze lingers on your face a second longer.

Then lower. To your wrist. Very gently, he adjusts the sleeve of your coat where the drunk patient grabbed you like he’s making sure you’re unharmed without making a scene about it.

Your pulse betrays you instantly.

“I just landed,” he says quietly. “Came straight here.”

Before you can answer, one of the nurses suddenly appears beside you looking between both of you with absolutely shameless curiosity.

“Doctor,” she says carefully, “Trauma 1 needs you.”

Of course they do.

You exhale through your nose. Then look back at Seungcheol.

He steps aside immediately.

“I’ll wait,” he says.

And for the first time in three exhausting weeks you smile without even trying to stop it.

Seungcheol stays near the edge of the nurses’ station after you leave him there, broad shoulders still carrying traces of travel and exhaustion from deployment.

He should probably report back first. Should probably head home. Should probably sleep after nearly twenty hours in transit.

Instead he’s standing in a crowded emergency room at almost midnight watching a trauma surgeon terrify grown men.

His eyes follow you automatically. Always finding you no matter how chaotic the room gets.

You move fast.

A nurse meets you halfway with charts already open and you barely glance down before issuing orders.

“Get repeat vitals on Bed 6.”

“Where’s radiology?”

“Page ortho again and tell them if they ignore me this time I’m dragging them down here myself.”

“Yes doctor.”

Another patient starts yelling about pain medication. You don’t even look up from stitching a split lip.

“You threw a chair at a paramedic fifteen minutes ago,” you say calmly. “You can survive five more minutes.”

The patient immediately quiets.

One of the residents beside you mutters, “Scary.”

You hear it “Then stop forgetting chart updates.”

“Yes doctor.”

Seungcheol almost laughs because there it is again.

That switch. The same one he saw the first day in the hallway when you were covered in blood kneeling over a crashing patient.

The terrifying competence. You become sharper under pressure. Like chaos organizes itself around you instead of the other way around.

It’s familiar to him. Too familiar. In military operations, the best leaders aren’t the loudest. They’re the calmest when everyone else starts panicking.

And youu command this emergency room exactly like that.

People move when you speak because they know you know what you’re doing.

A drunk patient suddenly grabs at a nurse’s wrist aggressively.

Seungcheol straightens immediately on instinct. But before he can move you’re already there.

“Hands off her.” Your voice cuts through the room cleanly

The patient scoffs drunkenly “Relax sweetheart—”

“Security.” The single word lands like a gunshot. Two guards instantly move forward.

The patient starts protesting immediately but you don’t even spare him another glance, already turning back toward your nurse.

“You okay?”

The nurse nods quickly. You squeeze her shoulder once before continuing down the row of beds like nothing happened.

One of the security guards near him notices where he’s looking and chuckles quietly.

“Dr. Y/L/N is usually scary,” the older man says knowingly.

Seungcheol’s eyes remain on you. You’re currently arguing with a resident twice your size while simultaneously putting pressure on someone’s bleeding shoulder.

“Mm.”

The guard grins. “Whole ER’s terrified of her when she gets like this.”

Across the room you snap your fingers toward another doctor “You. Gloves. Now.”

“Yes doctor.”

The guard laughs harder “See?”

But Seungcheol just watches you. Really watches you.

God.

To everyone else in this room, you probably do look intimidating.

Untouchable almost.

But to him you’re the prettiest thing he’s seen in weeks.

Maybe ever.

And that realization hits him with genuinely embarrassing force because Captain Choi Seungcheol has spent years avoiding attachment.

It’s easier that way.

His work requires distance, disappearing without explanations, accepting that one day he might not come back from deployment at all.

People like him don’t build stable relationships.

He learned that early. Yet here he is. Standing in a hospital ER watching you bully drunk patients and overworked residents with stars practically in his eyes.

Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

As if sensing him watching, you glance up suddenly from across the room.

Your eyes meet his immediately and your whole face changes. Just subtly softer around the edges.

Enough that he notices  his chest tightens unpleasantly.

You mouth something that looks suspiciously like: You okay?

Seungcheol nods once.

Your gaze lingers another second before you’re pulled away again by a nurse waving scans at you urgently.

The security guard beside him whistles low.

“…Oh.”

Seungcheol doesn’t bother asking what that means.

Because honestly? He knows. For a man trained to read threats, surveillance patterns, battlefield movement… It’s humiliatingly obvious.

Captain Choi Seungcheol is completely done for.

By the time he gets back to base, it’s nearly 3 a.m. Technically, his day should’ve ended hours ago. Instead, he spent the last several hours lingering in your ER while pretending he wasn’t waiting specifically for your shift to end.

You noticed, obviously.

Around midnight you finally walked over to him still carrying charts under one arm and said, “You know normal people go home and sleep.”

“I was making sure nobody pushed you again.”

Your eyes softened immediately at that. Which honestly felt more dangerous than any deployment he’s survived.

Eventually around two in the morning, your shift finally ended and for the first time since knowing you, Seungcheol saw you genuinely exhausted.

Actually exhausted.

Your steps slower. Eyes heavy. Hair half falling from your bun. You still tried to argue with him outside the hospital though.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s 2 a.m.”

“I’m not getting on your death machine.”

He blinked once “Death machine?”

“Your motorcycle”

“That hurts my feelings”

“It should”

He almost laughed right there in the parking lot. Then finally sighed and held up his keys.

“I took the car tonight.”

You stopped, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“…You own a car?”

“I’m capable of normal civilian behavior occasionally”

“Debatable.”

The drive starts quiet. Streetlights passing across your tired face in brief golden flashes.

At first you try staying awake. You really do. You ask him something about whether military cafeterias are actually as bad as people claim.

He asks if all surgeons survive entirely on caffeine and spite.

You laugh softly at that. Then gradually your replies get slower. Quieter. By the fourth red light, he glances over and realizes your eyes are barely open anymore.

“You can sleep” he says quietly

“M’not sleepin”

“You just lost a fight with your seatbelt five seconds ago”

“No I didn’t” You immediately drift sideways against the window.

A minute later you mumble, barely coherent “Address…” You unlock your phone halfway, fail, then eventually just type your apartment address into the dashboard navigation with sleepy determination.

After that? Done. Completely out cold within five minutes. No hesitation. No worry. Just trust.

It hits him strangely hard because people don’t usually fall asleep around him that easily. But you, you simply curled slightly into the passenger seat and slept. Like some exhausted part of you already decided he was safe.

Seungcheol drives slower after that. Careful over speed bumps. One hand steady on the wheel while city lights blur past the windshield.

At one point you shift in your sleep, face turning slightly toward him.

And God. He’s done for.

Absolutely catastrophically done for.

When he reaches your apartment building, he debates waking you immediately.

Instead he sits there for a second. Just looking.

Your face finally relaxed without hospital stress tightening your features. Soft breathing.

You look younger while asleep. Nothing like the terrifying trauma surgeon ordering residents around an ER.

Eventually he reaches over carefully.

“Y/N.” You make a tiny sound but don’t wake

His mouth twitches.

“Doctor.” Still nothing.

Then finally,

“Pretty girl”

Your eyes crack open instantly. Seungcheol nearly laughs at your betrayed expression.

“You’re evil” you mumble sleepily

“You drool when you sleep”

“I hate you”

“Sure”

You grumble under your breath the entire way to your apartment entrance while half asleep.bHe waits until you unlock your door safely.

Only before stepping inside, you turn back toward him.

Hair messy. Eyes barely open.

Beautiful.

“Text me when you get back”  Then you disappear inside before he can even answer properly.

And now hours later, Seungcheol closes the office door inside the base quietly, exhausted down to the bone.

He tosses his keys onto the desk. Rolls tension from his shoulders.

Finally alone or so he thinks.

“…So”

Seungcheol freezes instantly.

A figure emerges from the darkness of the office couch like an actual demon. Minho sits there with the most evil grin imaginable and a convenience store drink in hand.

Seungcheol stares “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough”

“You’re creepy.”

“And you,” Minho says while pointing dramatically, “are in love.”

Seungcheol immediately starts walking toward the coffee machine instead

“No.”

“Captain Choi Seungcheol voluntarily drove a woman home in his car instead of disappearing into the void after deployment.”

“She was tired”

“She fell asleep in your car?”

Silence. Minho gasps loudly. “Oh my GOD she fell asleep in your car”

“She works thirty hour shifts”

“She TRUSTS you”

“She was exhausted”

“You looked at her while she slept, didn’t you?” Seungcheol pauses for one fatal second. Minho screams.

“YOU DID!”

“Keep your voice down”

“You’re smiling!”

“I’m not”

“You literally have heart eyes right now.”

Seungcheol rubs one hand down his face tiredly whiich unfortunately only confirms everything further.

Minho jumps off the couch immediatel “This is insane. Captain Emotionally Unavailable actually caught feelings.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You drove slower because she was sleeping, didn’t you?”

Silence again.

Minho points aggressively. “Pathetic”

“She asked me to text her when I got back.”

That shuts Minho up immediately. Then slowly his grin returns ten times worse.

“Oh,” he says softly “Oh you’re both gone”

Seungcheol exhales heavily and pulls out his phone despite himself.bOne unread message already waits there.

you: did u get back safe or did the military finally lose their best employee

His chest does something deeply embarrassing. Minho watches his expression carefully then cackles loud enough to wake the entire base.

Minho is still laughing when Seungcheol finally drops heavily into the office chair.

Outside the office windows, the base is mostly quiet at this hour. A few distant footsteps. Radios crackling somewhere down the hall.

Meanwhile his best friend is having the time of his life watching him suffer.

“So,” Minho says while dragging a chair over dramatically, “tell me everything”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar”

Seungcheol leans back and closes his eyes briefly.

Instant mistake.

Because immediately he thinks of your face.

Hair falling loose in the ER. Sharp eyes over surgical masks. Soft sleepy expression in his passenger seat.

“See?” Minho points aggressively. “You’re doing it again!”

“Doing what?”

“That thing where you stare into space like you’re hearing wedding bells.”

Seungcheol opens one eye slowly “I can still have you transferred.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

“You’re too happy lately.”

That makes Seungcheol snort quietly despite himself.

Happy.

Strange word. Not one he usually associates with himself. His life is schedules and classified files and deployments that end with blood on tactical gloves.

Not… this.

Not waiting outside emergency rooms just to drive someone home.

Minho studies him for another second before suddenly asking:

“So how is it? she looked extra scary tonight?”

And annoyingly enough Seungcheol knows exactly what he means. He exhales slowly and drags one hand down his face.

“She does this thing,” he says before stopping himself.

Minho immediately lights up. “OH MY GOD THERE’S A THING.”

“Shut up.”

“No continue.”

Seungcheol stares at the ceiling for a second, Trying and failing to sound normal.

“When she’s focused,” he says quietly, “everything else disappears ”

His mind flashes back instantly.You standing in the middle of the ER chaos while everyone moved around you.

Blood on your gloves. Sharp voice cutting through noise. Completely locked in.

Beautiful.

Terrifying.

Alive.

You're pretty when you're focused, in your element.

Then another image surfaces. You asleep in his passenger seat. Head tilted slightly toward him.

Trusting him enough to completely let go.

His chest tightens again at the memory.

And he can't help but think you're even prettier when you're like that, relaxed, void of any stress, just you.

Then the worst or best one really.  The most dangerous one.

You looking at him. Not doctor-to-patient. Not teasing. Just… looking at him softly after recognizing him in that ER tonight.

Relief hidden in your eyes. Like you were genuinely happy he came back safe.

And that— that one nearly kills him.

“The prettiest,” Seungcheol says finally, voice quieter now, “when she looks at me.”

Silence. Absolute silence.

Then Minho slowly lowers his drink onto the desk “…There you go again.”

Seungcheol blinks once “What?”

“Floating away”

“I’m sitting right here”

“No,” Minho says dramatically while pointing at him, “physically yes. Spiritually? You’re holding hands with her in a sunflower field”

That actually makes Seungcheol laugh.

Minho stares at him in disbelief afterward then shakes his head slowly.

“I have never,” he says firmly, “and I mean never ever seen you like this.”

Seungcheol falls quiet again. Because honestly? Neither has he. He’s spent years carefully detached from people. Not cold just practical.

His job taught him early that attachment complicates survival.

You leave easier when nothing waits for you.

But now there’s suddenly a trauma surgeon with messy handwriting and terrifying leadership skills occupying his thoughts at three in the morning.

A woman who understands duty instead of resenting it. Who patched bullet wounds without flinching. Who fell asleep in his car like she trusted him instinctively.

And worst of all… he wants more.

More dinners.

More late-night drives.

More sarcastic comments thrown at him over coffee.

More of you looking at him like he came back.

Seungcheol exhales slowly through his nose “…This is bad.”

Minho immediately points at him again. “That is the face of a man already planning marriage.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Seungcheol shakes his head once, but there’s no real denial left in it now because somewhere between the convenience store, the ER hallways, and you asleep in his passenger seat…

Captain Choi Seungcheol fell hard.

Tanned skin, broad shoulders and a criminally narrow waist that flashes beneath the flannel he wears over his tank top— all complimented by a face sculpted by the gods with clear love and care; a plump bottom lip that juts into a pout, tall nose and large eyes that scanned the room curiously— you first made eye contact after Kai let you in, your gaze instantly attracted to the makeshift halo given to him by the lamp he sat in front, his long black hair falling into his eyes. While you instantly looked away, intimidated by how attractive he was, you felt his gaze linger on you for a bit longer.

You let Kai take your hand and drag you to the couch across from this beautiful stranger; some random animated adult comedy show droned on in the background, the only light left after the lamp gets turned off, a few others already taking up space on the couches; you squeezed into the corner while Kai sat to your left, Soobin and Beomgyu taking up the rest of the space— they were nice and fun to talk to, but you only knew them through Kai; you learned it was more entertaining to watch them try to argue whilst high out of their minds.

Across from you, Kazuha and Yunjin wave at you— you were mutual friends through Kai, getting to know them through your econ class after you were paired together for a project; they introduce you to the friends they invited, Chaeryoung and Ryujin. Yeonjun has forfeited a seat on the couch in favor of sitting on the floor, hunched over the coffee table as he rolls up— when you greet him, he gives you a toothy grin, nodding behind him as he introduces you to his invited guest—

"Taehyun." Oh god, you have to try your best not to react too much as he greets you— a polite smile is all you can muster, because you fear anything more than that would give away the effect his mere voice already has on you. It's smooth and deep, with an unexpected gentleness in his tone despite the cool and standoffish front he has going on. You all fall silent, some paying attention to the television while you opt to watch Yeonjun finish rolling up the joint.

He works fast, his fingers nimble and clearly experienced; as much as you like to tease that his skill is concerning, you never turn down a smoke session when it's Yeonjun that's rolling up— you'd like to think that the extra care he puts in his joints add a little extra something that makes your high better. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

You're snapped out of your trance at the sound of Yeonjun calling your name; blinking owlishly, you find him holding out the finished joint and a lighter out to you, eyes tinted with an amused glint.

"Wanna start it off?" he asks— you suddenly feel everyone's eyes fall on you. "You look like you're dying for a hit."

"Am not," you scoff, yet take up the offer anyway; this earns a chuckle from Taehyun, who you can't help but become attuned to instantly. Placing the joint between your lips, you pray that you don't fumble lighting it up and make a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

Then again, it's hard to when you have Yeonjun's work in your hands— you quietly marvel at how quickly the joint lights up, taking a slow drag and watching the tip burn in response. You turn your head to the side to blow out the smoke before passing it over to Kai, settling back on the couch and turning your attention on the show that plays in the background.

As the joint makes its way back to you, a quiet conversation adds to the white noise; you talk about the semester and the finals that approach, listening to Yunjin rant animatedly about her cumulative calculus exam that's driving her up the wall, nodding along in sympathy. Beside you, Kai starts to complain about his job— hyping himself up by saying the same as always: "I'm gonna quit once this semester ends, I swear." The effects of the weed already seem to kick in as you can only muster a slightly slurred remark that he's a hypocrite that's been repeating the same thing for the past two years— when you stumble over your sentence one time too many, the group begins to laugh and you quietly scold yourself to shut the hell up.

It's been a while since you last smoked; you're definitely sure it's showing too, as you proceed to melt into the couch more while the others continue the conversation like nothing— at some point, the others start skipping you when passing the joint around.

Beomgyu and Soobin have started arguing again, something about League and their current rankings. While they have the world's most incomprehensible screaming match, Yunjin drags the girls up and to the kitchen, rambling off about how hungry she is— she turns to you to ask if you'd like to tag along, but when your bleary eyes meet hers and you give her a sluggish shake of your head, she leaves without a fight. Yeonjun trails after them at the reminder of food; beside you, Kai watches his friends fight with a small smile, taking a slow hit from the joint and leaning on your shoulder with a sigh. The two of you curl into each other, and while Kai laughs at the jabs the two throw at each other, you're left unsure of whether they're even speaking a language you know.

A chill runs through your body, and you instinctively turn to the couch across from you— your eyes meet with Taehyun's for the umpteenth time today, but in your high induced daze, you don't feel a panicked urge to look away. Instead, you allow yourself to hold his stare, tilting your head as your eyes begin to wander.

He's shed his flannel; he's left in nothing but a white tank, showing off his arms that are so defined with muscle you're able to pick it up under the low light of the TV. It's unbearable, having such perfect eye-candy on display— even more so when he places his hands behind his head and stretches back, his short tank riding up and exposing his stomach— rather, his fucking abs. You didn't think it was possible to find someone with actual defined abs in real life; Yeonjun always complains to you about how hard they are to maintain.