Your lips slot right into his, the rhythm of moment as he kisses you so natural it comes off as easy as breathing.

You smile and get up from him and laying back on the bed, exhausted. You watch him move around the bedroom and come over to clean you up with a wet cloth. After he takes care of that, he climbs back into the bed and pulls the covers over you.

You nuzzle onto his chest, lay there listening to his heartbeat, a steady beat lulling you into sleep after the rough clash of your bodies. After the passionate marks both of you left on each other, those which would bloom red like roses tomorrow.

He absentmindedly plays with your hair watching your breaths slowly become shallow and you drift off of to sleep, probably listening to his heartbeat.

You had this unique habit of always laying on his chest and sleeping off listening to the sound of it. It confused him at the beginning, he wondered the reasons behind the actions so often than not.

But then you once you so casually explained why and since then, he too was always looking forward to sleeping with you tucked under his chin or you laying on him. And then one time he laid on your chest, he immediately knew he was addicted to the sound of your own beats too.

"Your heartbeat makes me feel comfortable," you told him.

It wasn't anything big, or unique or unnatural. It was something so small and normal, and it made you feel safe with him.

And that was all that mattered. That you felt safe with him. That you could trust him to hold you when you didn't want anyone else to hold you, steady or not.

The days when work exhausted you, the days when everything weighed on your shoulders, the days when life felt too much you came to him. Trusting that he would hold you, and that you were safe with him.

And when things changed and Jeonghan couldn't bare it anymore, when even smiling felt hard or his voice wasn't supporting him, he would come to you, knowing you would keep him safe. That he too trusted you the same way you did.

Your lips slot right into his, the rhythm of moment as he kisses you so natural it comes off as easy as breathing.

You smile and get up from him and laying back on the bed, exhausted. You watch him move around the bedroom and come over to clean you up with a wet cloth. After he takes care of that, he climbs back into the bed and pulls the covers over you.

You nuzzle onto his chest, lay there listening to his heartbeat, a steady beat lulling you into sleep after the rough clash of your bodies. After the passionate marks both of you left on each other, those which would bloom red like roses tomorrow.

He absentmindedly plays with your hair watching your breaths slowly become shallow and you drift off of to sleep, probably listening to his heartbeat.

You had this unique habit of always laying on his chest and sleeping off listening to the sound of it. It confused him at the beginning, he wondered the reasons behind the actions so often than not.

But then you once you so casually explained why and since then, he too was always looking forward to sleeping with you tucked under his chin or you laying on him. And then one time he laid on your chest, he immediately knew he was addicted to the sound of your own beats too.

"Your heartbeat makes me feel comfortable," you told him.

It wasn't anything big, or unique or unnatural. It was something so small and normal, and it made you feel safe with him.

And that was all that mattered. That you felt safe with him. That you could trust him to hold you when you didn't want anyone else to hold you, steady or not.

The days when work exhausted you, the days when everything weighed on your shoulders, the days when life felt too much you came to him. Trusting that he would hold you, and that you were safe with him.

And when things changed and Jeonghan couldn't bare it anymore, when even smiling felt hard or his voice wasn't supporting him, he would come to you, knowing you would keep him safe. That he too trusted you the same way you did.

A plan definitely devised with ulterior motives, as you started the moving in process yesterday evening. The furniture started coming in first, you were busy putting everything together when the night has fallen. You fell asleep on the couch for a while before your best friend came over at the crack of dawn to help you unpack.

The elevator dings and you get in laying down the box to catch a breath.

"Wait!" You hear a loud thump and a shoe stopping the doors as they halt.

You look up to see the person and are startled watching Chan panting trying to catch his breath as the doors open up for him.

He was wearing casual clothes, his hair messy and unkept, sweat on his forehead indicating he was either working out or doing a strenous activity. You did not want to know what it was.

Wait, what was he doing here?

As if he finally took in his surroundings, Chan gets into the elevator. But the shock on his face as he sees you is palpable, it crosses his features for a second before changing into a blank expression. Nobody would've known about it.

You do though, unfortunately.

The entire ride neither of you talk, while you were itching to talk something you didn't know if he wanted to.

Soon, the elevator stops at your floor and he gets out first reminding you that he never actually pressed a button to his floor and got down at yours. You follow him your mind racing with possibilities like you are connecting dots at a crime scene and that's when it happens, the sound of electronic lock beeping and you swear you hear your heart beating so loud it feels like it might fall out of your chest.

He lives right next door to you. He is your neighbor.

As if the realization dawned him as you open up your door he looks at you with a look you can't pinpoint to be exact and goes in shutting it behind him loudly.

Okay, rude.

As soon as your door is closed you lean against it falling onto the floor. Your heart doesn't help neither does your body. You were going to move on from him. You were going to go on a date on your own accord and get over him.

It has been 13 days since you last saw him and you were sure that your plan was working. And now, he is here? Living right next door? You did not know if you were supposed to be happy or sad.

"Are you good?" Jieun asks looking at you from the living room, the show she was watching paused on the laptop.

"No?" You were honestly confused. So you do the best thing to get rid of your stuffy chest. You cry it out.

Chan crushes the paper in his hands aiming it towards Seungcheol's head, who was currently sleeping on his couch like a fucking baby.

It has been a few days since he ran into you. And as if that wasn't enough, he heard you cry the sound so loud it broke something in him. He brushed it off thinking it wasn't because of him, that maybe you were just crying because the moving in — he guessed by the box in your hand and the empty apartment beside his which you went into — was stressful, but his hand that almost reached your door bell with worry said otherwise.

And now, watching Seungcheol on his couch, in his apartment, sleeping on his favorite pillow and Chan did not know what else to do other than find a way to get rid of his frustration than finding an escape.

He did not hate you, but he did not know what he felt either. And if he ever tried to confront himself, all he could do was remember that your actions hurt Seungcheol—which sometimes felt like an excuse he was trying to make up if he was being honest. So, he never tried to wonder what exactly he was feeling.

But now you were his neighbor, and if not now when else would he be confronting himself? Because having you so close and yet so far away every single day, Chan was losing his fucking mind around you. He so desperately wanted to talk to you, or was he just feeling guilty for hurting you the last time you saw each other? What exactly was he feeling?

Yeah, he had to figure out his shit.

The paper ball Chan threw, fell far away from his aim and Seungcheol just stirred in his place, no sign of waking up. There was one more option left, that would help him relieve whatever is going on in his mind —something that always helped him clear his mind — so he woke Seungcheol up with an offer the grumpy man could not refuse.

The sound of grunts fill the air, sweat permeating through as Seungcheol did not stop holding back, a wicked gleam on his face as he threw another punch.

Chan huffs out a laugh dodging him, and hits him right across his jaw making him lose his balance for a second before throwing another hit. Seungcheol, who spits out some blood just goes ahead smiling like a maniac—which he was—and takes down Chan with a punch to his ribs.

This was their getaway. Boxing.

Their shared love for a fight to relieve some muscles and clear the mind never reduced over the years. In fact, they were sure the amount of injuries they had along the years somehow made them more stronger.

Mingyu blows a whistle, signaling them to take a break. Chan and Seungcheol just fall on their backs in middle of the ring, groaning because of the pain while also laughing, because it has certainly been a while since they did this.

"You beasts," Mingyu curses throwing water bottles at both of them while taking a seat in the ring.

Kim Mingyu was the doctor they befriended after Chan 'accidentally' broke 2 of Seungcheol's ribs. Their grandfather was furious at them for fighting in general, and since then they found a secret place for their little activity so the old man would not get a whiff of it. He would just get mad again, and they did not want to lose this.

Mingyu figured out stuff quickly, and wanted in on it for reasons unknown and Seungcheol welcomed him immediately because he was always ready to prove to anyone who watched, that he was the best at this.

"So, what's your trouble this time?" He asks looking at Seungcheol who just shrugs.

"I am fine, this kid on the other hand—" He throws an hand over Chan's shoulders pulling him ruffling his hair while the younger tries to get out of his hold, Seungcheol just glares at him making Chan stay and not try to get out.

"I am fine. Just work stress and this old man—" Chan continues to lie while Seungcheol rolls his eyes.

"He's not telling the truth," Seungcheol cuts him off looking at Mingyu.

"I can see that." Mingyu answers, his gaze unwavering on Chan.

Silence passes for a few minutes and Chan sighs telling them everything on his mind. He thought he would just figure this out by himself, but seems like he was going to get help.

Nobody says a damn thing as Chan continues speaking, while Seungcheol sometimes just scoffs or laughs he doesn't say anything much either.

"—And I started to give up on the idea of pursuing her because it felt wrong to go after a woman who hurt you." He looks at Seungcheol, who just raises a brow at him.

"That's just bullshit," Seungcheol scoffs, catching him off guard.

"If you wanted to pursue a girl, go for it. If I have any issues, fight me about it. Fight for her. You are just making up excuses because the last time you opened up your heart it got crushed." Seungcheol just outright scolds him, looking at him like he had the audacity to get a batshit crazy excuse.

"Yes, she did hurt me. But it is was just a lie to get out of that damn sham of blind date, I was just mad I never had the Idea of sending someone instead of me to the dates," Seungcheol continues.

"Wait, then why are you still 'dating' her friend?" Chan was confused. Seungcheol was the last one who would say things like fighting for love, brushing of someone who betrayed him and everything. What was he on?

"That's our business to take care of,"

"I never thought I'd say this but Seungcheol is right. He just could've phrased that a lot better," Mingyu looks at Seungcheol who gets defensive immediately and picks a fight with the doctor. Their fight looked like two ducks blabbering to each other, while the sight made Chan laugh their statements did not leave his mind.

Seungcheol was all about tough love, while what he said was harsh and confusing, Chan felt like that was what he needed to hear. And considering that Seungcheol didn't really have any qualms about the person Chan had a crush on—it being you, but was just mad about how his methods to approach it cleared a lot of stuff on his mind.

It has been 2 weeks since he saw you, while it seemed for the best of everyone's sanity. Chan did not know any kind of rest since then. He was worried he lost you, while that was what he was trying to do, he still felt like an asshole to miss your presence and hoped he would run into you at some point because you were living in the same place as him.

And that day seeing you move in made his heart feel lighter than it did in weeks, because you were here. Right beside him. He would be a fool to not go after you — even after Seungcheol wanted him to go— after almost losing sleep every night wondering if pushing you away was right or wrong.

Work took away lot of your sanity leaving you nothing but a shell of a person. No one in your team survived the new product line launch. After what seemed like a whole lifetime, the crucial period was over and it has been almost 2 months since your last team dinner. Despite the work being a bit easier than before in the recent few weeks, nobody was into the idea of a dinner so soon.

But you still suggested the idea and this time everyone agreed that they really need a break. The smiles and carefree attitude from everyone after a long while filled your heart to the brim, even though you would never admit it to them—because Yunjin will hold that moment of cheesiness over your head till you were six feet deep in ground—they were people you really cared about a lot. Having a boss who was around their age was something new, but they respected you and gave you the benefit of doubt when you became the head despite whatever people had to say about it. Those days in the beginning when you started, they even defended you to people. It always motivated you to work harder to prove that their trust in you was never going to fail them.

"How are you going to get home, Boss?" Seungkwan asks, the only sober one tonight. Apparently, he needed to get home sober because his girlfriend was done with his drunk antics, which intrigued everyone but he didn't spill the beans when asked why. So you became his black knight downing the drinks in games he lost. Safe to say, you shouldn't have done that.

"I live a block away, I will just walk." Seungkwan looks conflicted but lets you go on the premise of you texting him immediately after you reach. You wave to everyone and leave while he takes care of getting them into cabs.

Your place—where you were starting to realize you needed to start being smart about your money, where you were often staying awake at nights with Jieun working together and falling asleep in the living room, where you daily run into the one person you did not want to—was near to your work and the regular restaurant your team frequented.

Including that damn convenience store that you keep trying to forget.

That day after your burst of emotions against your door you realized that everything in your life was weighing on you. Especially Lee Chan.

While your friend convinced you that he is a good person, which she knew because of her "dates" with Seungcheol, you did not want to feel like a goddamn child again. Waiting for love that closed doors on you long ago while you were just a fool to not see it.

Despite seeing him almost daily while going to work, you never spared more than a glance or never talked to him either.

You're plan to move on still going on solid.

How were you going to do that? No idea. But, since work finally let you take a breath without making you feel like you were going to die, you were going to get on those damn dating apps or maybe hop bars? How does someone even find a person to date? You were a bit rusted in the area since it has been a while since you went on a date, willingly. You were going to get your friend's help and figure out a way.

You sigh walking into your gated community, the walk tiring you out because of your drunken state. The giggles of kids who were playing in the park welcomes you, a sense of relief that your decision to move out wasn't a bad one fills you whenever you hear those giggles.

Your block comes into view, you were skipping on your feet now. Glad to finally be home after an exhausting day, ready to hit the bed and not wake up till Monday.

But when did anything ever go your way?

Just when you reach the elevator, your ankle twists. Your reflexes save you as you end up catching onto something for control, but then you hear a loud rip of fabric and gasp looking at what you did. You ripped someone's tote bag, their files falling onto the floor.

"I'm so sorry." You repetitively chant the apology, scooping up everything you can.

"Its okay. I was about to catch you, glad you didn't fall." You hand them their files and finally get a proper look. It was a man who was smiling at you, while he looked your age he had some kind of air surrounding him that you couldn't pinpoint.

"I'm Kyumin," You exchange greetings and promise to pay him back for his bag, to which completely refuses.

"That's completely fine it wasn't intentional. Just let's greet each other when our paths cross. I am new here and I don't really know anybody yet." He whispers the last part making you smile.

"Me neither."

"You sure you can get home safe?"

"I will be fine, thank you for the help. I am so sorry about your bag." He just waves you off and tells you he got some work and leaves.

Feeling a bit dazed you get onto the elevator the encounter making you smile that you finally made an acquaintance. You go trying to press your floor just to see that it's already taken care of and look back to see none other than Chan looking at you with his hands crossed. You jump back with a yelp.

"I'm sorry, I didn't notice you." You tell him, your voice slurring, you were not a lightweight but the alcohol took its sweet time to make you feel like you were one. It found the perfect time to make you dazed, because now you needed to rush to your place before you could vomit.

"I did," He mutters, his eyes just straight up glaring at you.

"Did you say something?" He shrugs when you ask, just looking at his watch as you narrow your eyes at him.

What was his deal?

The elevator halts to a stop, the ground beneath you shaking as you fall to hold onto the ledge.

"Fuck," You hear him curse as he holds you, taking you in to see if you were fine. It reminds you of the day he saved you from a car, he looked just as worried.

"I'm fine," you brush him off finding your footing, he looks at you but doesn't say anything before moving to press on the emergency button. A female voice filters in, she and Chan exchange a few words about getting the elevator to run soon. But you tune them out, not really feeling so good.

The sudden jolt of the elevator and the ankle that almost got twisted had your body shaken and now you are so close to puking your guts out. You really shouldn't have lifted your alcohol ban you had since a few months, but you got your own place and everything felt nice you wanted to celebrate.

You sink on your knees resting your head low as you try breathe slowly.

You are going to be fine. You will be fine.

"Are you okay?" Chan is again beside you, bellowing out a few curses and calling the emergency people to get to opening up the elevator soon.

Why was he so worried about you?

"I feel sick," you mumble out.

"Do you have water with you?" You nod at him. He searches through your bag handing you the bottle, helping you take small sips nothing big.

You feel it then. The warmth.

He had you in his arms, asking you if it was okay as he rubbed your back gently in a soothing manner.

You slowly nod, and look up at him.

His hair was a bit longer than the last time you've properly seen him, his eyes those chocolate swirls had you enchanted just as the day you first saw him. And his brows were furrowed in worry, you brush them out with your fingers before you know it.

"Don't frown much, it'll ruin your pretty face." You tell him and a little smile spreads on his face.

The same smile that knocked wind out of your chest. Fuck, moving on from him is going to be quite hard if he smiled at you like that.

"Don't frown much, it'll ruin your pretty face." You tell him and a little smile spreads on his face.

The same smile that knocked wind out of your chest. Fuck, moving on from him is going to be quite hard if he smiled at you like that.

"Don't frown much, it'll ruin your pretty face." You say, a silly smile on your face as you push away the frown on his face. Chan smells the alcohol from your breathe and realizes your drunk. No wonder you were sick.

The emergency team responded that earliest they can get to work would take about an hour so, so he had to make sure you weren't going to get sick again in meanwhile.

"Your smile looks so pretty," your voice drops an octave, it sounds so sad yet you still have that silly smile on your face. It just doesn't reach your eyes anymore.

"Thank you," Chan replies.

The lavender scent of yours embraces him pulling him in but the hazel eyes of yours were just filled with sadness.

Why were you so sad?

"I'm sorry," you mumble. Before he can ask why, you sit up straight and he moves away giving you space as he watches you shake your head leaning against the wall of the elevator just looking ahead before falling asleep. He doesn't wake you up, just makes sure that you won't fall if you shift.

He lifts you up as the rescue team comes and soon both of you get out of the place, an entire hour he spent playing games on his phone while holding your head so you wouldn't fall.

The jerk of being picked up must've woken you, you look up at him and smile before nuzzling into his neck, his body warming up at the action. He almost loses his grip on you, but holds you tight.

Reaching your door, he lets you down. You tell him to look away and type in the code as he does and drag him in holding his hand.

"Look at my house, is not so pretty?" You look back at him with an expectant face and he nods walking in making sure to not get further than the shoe area.

You go around showing him your furniture, giggling to yourself about some jokes and almost trip but catch yourself before walking into another room.

And when you don't come out for a while, he walks in to make sure you didn't fall or hit yourself only to find you on your bed holding onto a shirt of yours he recognized as the one you wore when he first met you at the convenience store.

"Why is this so hard?" You mumble to yourself as you let your tears fall, he wonders what was making you feel this way and just slowly rubs circles on your palm.

He shouldn't be staying in here for this long. With one look at you he walks out into the kitchen and writes down a note to remind you to take care of yourself when you wake up and gets out of your apartment, the lock clicking in place making him sigh in relief.

It was a sight to watch you sound so excited about furniture, your eyes shining —the sadness he saw before nowhere to be found— that almost resembled the stars and your hands moving around as you spoke.

But seeing you look just as sad and exhausted worried him to say nonetheless.

After talking to his friends the other day, Chan since then tried to make a move, or even strike up a conversation with you. But you were always busy, and actively ignoring him. He didn't think he'd ever get the chance again. He thought that maybe the chance was gone and he went out of his way to not cross paths with you again, not make you uncomfortable anymore by being in the same space as you. It was hard because you were his neighbor, but who was Chan if he was not just a guy trying to make sure the person he liked was comfortable. He found out a way to do that.

But today, it got so late and he could not walk around the entire place before catching another elevator, so he took the one at the parking lot, and then you got in at the upper ground floor smiling to yourself and looking a bit drunk.

He didn't want to disturb you but the situation kept escalating and all he wanted to do was make sure you were okay and safe. That was how he ended up taking care of you. And the fact that you unconsciously felt safe with him to talk or act the way you did made him feel bittersweet.

Because if you were indeed comfortable as you did, why were you ignoring him?

That was a question he had to ask the sober you.

Chan was an hopeless romantic. Finding love in the tiniest things but what he wasn't was someone who believed in miracles, or even coincidences. But maybe it was a miracle that you both found your way to each other again. Maybe it was a second chance that he was being given.

But what if you did not feel the same way? What was he going to do then?

You groan your limbs aching as you stretch on your bed, the silk sheets feeling odd under you.

Silk sheets?

You wake up quickly making your head spin because of the force as you take in the room. It was indeed your room, the pictures hanging on the walls and the stupid band poster says so.

You look down and see that the silk sheet was just a shirt you hugged to sleep.

You get out of your room and find a mess of a living room, everything thrown around cursing yourself to not drink again.

You remember being drunk, you remember almost tearing up someone's bag but after that you had no memory of the night. This was also why you really didn't drink much, you were crazy when the alcohol hit you. It was slower to kick in than it did to others but god, did it have long lasting effects.

You see a paper folded into a triangle in the kitchen and walk up to it. And find a note written for you.

Do not forget to take medications for sobering up.

-Lee Chan : )

What in the ever loving fuck does that mean? Was Chan the one who dropped you at your place? How did that even happen?

You remember absolutely nothing else from last night and it is starting to kill you.

Why did he leave a smiley face? What have you done?

"So, you remember nothing?" Seungkwan asks as he moves around to play. The racket in his hand seemed like it was part of his body with the way he moved it so flawlessly. You were an average player, but a player nonetheless.

Seungkwan wanted to meet you over for coffee, a treat because of you drinking instead of him last night. His girlfriend dropped him off, whom you met and realized she is someone from your company itself and Seungkwan just laughed awkwardly. You didn't pry anymore.

After coffee, Seungkwan suggested that to wake your mind it'd be fun to go play badminton for a while so you wouldn't feel so tired, but it just feels the opposite now.

The sound of the rackets hitting the shuttlecock fills the area, and you try so hard to match up with his pace but you end up losing. Again.

"Yeah, nothing." You tell him as he helps you up from the floor, both of you walking together to take a seat on a bench for a breather. You were talking to Kwan about problems from last night, while he definitely wasn't the best guy around to talk about secrets, he had honest answers which you always welcomed.

"Did you see him again?"

"No, I'll probably run into him soon."

"How do you feel about it? You must have some kind of gut feeling or sixth sense about it, right?" One more reason why you were talking to Seungkwan of all people. He had many women in his life making him experienced in giving advice in some things you couldn't possibly ask someone who was not a woman. But because you didn't really have many friends or acquaintances, except for Tzuyu, Yunjin who were busy today. And Jieun, who was out of town on a "date" with her boss.

At this point you wonder if she did fall in love with him with the way she never stops mentioning his name.

"There was nothing alarming about the incident, I feel warm at the mention of it? I'm guessing it's a good sign?" Kwan gets into thinking as you continue, and soon he asks you a question throwing you off into deeper thinking.

"Do you still like him?"

"I'm trying to move o—"

"Do you still like him?"

"I feel dumb remembering the incidents—"

"Do. You. Still. Like. Him? It's a yes or no question, boss."

You didn't admit this to yourself either, admitting it felt like you were going to manifest it into reality. A reality where he was just kind to you, but also where he saw you as someone who lied, you had your own reasons for doing so and you did not regret that. But that didn't matter anymore, because you were going to run into him daily even if you try to avoid him and you are going to get tensed and feel sad trying to move on. Because—

"I do, I like him so much it physically hurts not to talk to him."

"Well, there's your answer and from everything that you told me—." He holds your shoulders making you look at him, "—It seems like you have to stop running away, even if running away seems like the best thing to do at present, it wouldn't give you any kind of peace later."

You just stare at him, his words sinking into you. He was honest about it, telling you something you didn't dare look in the face as if it was a demon you were scared to look at. But even if it scared you, you realize you had to do something about your feelings towards Chan.

Most importantly start talking to him, make it a normal thing so your heart would stop jumping at the mention of him.

Chan was exhausted to say the least. He could not feel his legs even though his body moved on auto-pilot. He had packages to take upstairs and mail to grab but he didn't know if he'd make it to his apartment without collapsing.

Seungcheol started acting weird since morning, while it was just the usual, the air around him felt so otherwise. It just did not feel right, whatever he was doing. And worst of all, he 'fired' his girlfriend for reasons he wouldn't tell Chan about and the younger was just glad the fake relationship was just finally over because the acting whenever he saw their grandfather was getting on his nerves. The blow out of it hanging at the back of his head and nightmares of him going to Switzerland for Seungcheol's blind date, if their grandfather finds it was fake all along haunted him.

A laugh cuts his thoughts as he reaches his floor, and sees you standing outside your apartment looking at a guy and laughing.

Who the fuck was this guy?

"Thank you," You stop when you find Chan looking at you, and the stranger in front of you looks over too.

"I should get going," He bows leaving. Chan makes a note to figure out who this guy was and looks back at you.

To say you were beaming would be less of a statement, and seeing you finally smile at him after what seemed like a lifetime Chan feels his heart race. He wondered if you knew the power you had over him, he wondered if you knew that your smile could wipe out darkness so vast it would be light all over.

"How are you?" You look surprised as if you really asked that, a habit he realized you had when you were nervous —You would blurt out things and get shock, your eyes widening. He just nods at you, thanking the heavens that whatever bought you back to the way you were before you began avoiding him, and that you were speaking with him, in sober state of mind.

"How is your hangover? Did you rest well?" You nod the smile never going away. And he sees it then, the dimple he had the blessing of seeing the other day when you were drunk, it shows again.

He was going to die at this state. He had to calm down.

"I apologize for inconveniencing you the other day, I usually never drink and that day it was just one accident after another—"

"Accident? Were you hurt anywhere?" Chan didn't mean to, but his voice came out strained at the thought of you getting hurt.

"Oh, no. No, not that way. Accident in the sense where I seemed to have just slipped once."

"Were. You. Hurt?"

Your cheeks go red the blush spreading across your face, despite being concerned over you he could not stop smiling as he sees the affect he has over you. Is this really happening?

He takes a step back from when he came into your space few seconds ago, and clears his throat.

"I am fine, thanks for being concerned." You tell him and you do something that Chan never in his lifetime would've thought would get to see. You wink at him shocking yourself doing so, and you just wave your hand before excusing yourself and getting inside your place.

Chan could not move an inch from where he stood at your door, his heart thundering against his chest as he felt his own body get hot.

It seems you were also attracted to him, just the way he did.

Despite having your own place to go now, Jieun's parents wanted you to come over and stay for a day because they missed you. While your own father did not even bother to call, not that you expected anything from him anyway.

As you drive back home, after many attempts by Jieun's mother to make you stay for one more day, you feel your heart full looking over to see bags of side dishes she prepared for you and the amount of concern she had when she got to know you were losing weight because of stress from work. You tried so hard not to cry, and hugged her tight making a promise to take good care of yourself and she kissed your cheek.

A mother's love was always wonderful, despite it being taken away from you quite early in your life, you were glad to have found two people who cared for you like one. You make a note to check on Mrs. Chae and call her frequently during weekdays to make sure your father would not find out about it.

Locking your car you grab onto the bags from Jieun's mom, which were quite heavy now that you hold them, and walk towards the elevator slowly and put them down waiting for it to show up when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Good Morning," Kyumin, the guy whose tote bag you tore accidentally the other day was smiling at you widely. You would've returned it, hell you would've even given him a box of a side dish from your bag but since the other day when he somehow found the exact flat you lived in made you a little wary of him.

Maybe he just saw your name on the mail that got mixed up in his and found your flat or he stalked you, was a question you had no answers to. You could not go around accusing someone of something. But the smile he gave when he greeted you, never seemed to have reached his eyes, just like at this moment, where they looked odd.

"Hello," you reply curtly and watch his smile fall.

"Do you need help carrying these bags?" Before you could say anything he already had a bag in his hand and when you tried to protest he almost took the other one before his hand was swatted away. You wish you did that.

The bags are taken away from him and you look up to see a very mad Lee Chan who is just outright glaring at Kyumin, his jaw clenched. His face was neutral but his eyes held something akin to rage and that somehow soothed you.

Maybe because you were just as angry but were holding yourself back from making a scene.

"I got them," He replies to the man behind you, who you watch nod and walk away without a complaint. You turn to your neighbor who now looked at you with an intensity that made you warm and smiled.

"You good?" You were a puddle was what you were.

"Do you know him?" He asks you.

"Not really," Chan hums as he looks over to where Kyumin ran off once again.

"Thanks for saving me, again.—" The elevator dings and both of you enter, "—at this point I should just call you my knight in shinning armor with the amount of times you swooped in and rescued me," you joked.

You saw from your front door camera the other day when Chan came to see you after your drunken shenanigans and you closed the door with an involuntary wink at him—he blushed so much he resembled a tomato and smiled walking away unbuttoning his jacket.

Since the beginning, you had a hunch or maybe a gut feeling that the attraction you felt towards him was mutual. Maybe that was why moving on seemed so hard. And now, since the universe intertwined your fates as neighbors, and he smiled at you every time he saw you making you nothing but a puddle or warm you realized you were not going to lose this chance.

So, shooting your shot it was. Even if it meant finding the cheesiest line you could throw at him just to make him laugh at the silliness of it. You were actually a natural flirt when you weren't being melted like ice because of someone's gaze on you.

His lips twitch before he shakes his head, "Knight in shining armor," he mutters to himself before looking at you with a smirk.

You reach your floor and get out first and he quietly follows you not saying a word as he watches you fumble with the password twice and enter your place. You welcome him in, ignoring the mess as if he hadn't seen it before in a state far worse and guide him to leave the bags in your kitchen counter.

"Thank you for carrying these," you hold out two boxes of side dishes as a sign of gratitude but he lays them on the counter behind you before caging you between his arms.

"If I am your knight in shining armor,—" he leans in being so close yet so far away as he speaks in whispers, "— does that make you my princess?"

"I believe so,"

And for what feels like hours he just stays there right in front of you, his eyes taking you in and you do the same. His darkened eyes and the little freckles on his face that you almost wouldn't have seen unless you were this close to him. And his lips? They look so plump that makes you want to bite them, and you really might.

"You should do it then sometime," He says and you realize you said the last part out loud.

God, you wish the earth would just swallow you now.

But his eyes never leave your lips as he says before coming back to your eyes.

"Will do," you answer trying so hard to hold your ground and not blush. And with a smile that tickles you everywhere making you smile too, he leaves. Already out the door but not before he says something that has you falling on to your floor holding your chest so tightly.

"See you soon, Princess."

Oh, he was playing back the tricks. He was flirting back.

Sweet heavens, you are going to fall hard and heavy with this man. Because not only does he have a personality and the smile you admire and adore, he knew how to flirt just the way you liked it, like he was made for you.

Seeing that man in front of your place and making you laugh so heartily ticked Chan off that he almost kissed you right infront of him. It was bullshit and he knew, but he somehow did know you were not going to push him away. If he understood anything since the last few days of spending maybe a few minutes with you, those accidental brushing off hands, those shy glances and most importantly the way your breath hitched when he came close to you, he knew you liked him back.

But after that day Chan had no way to talk to you as he was stuck at work since two days reaching home at odd timings because of some mood swings Seungcheol was going through. The intense wave of emotions from his boss was something he had never seen.

Angry, rule following and maybe a tad bit obssessed with himself was his usual but not where he was so emotional coming towards making his research team work their ass off on making a dish he was not taking a likening towards.

Especially an researcher named Kang Jieun.

Chan did not know the beef between them but he hoped that his brother stoped being an asshole towards her because she made the dish right on her 1st try.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because they need to know the consequences of lying to someone," Seungcheol said looking out the window. The sun set a few minutes ago and it looks like he was going to make her stay for a while. Again, something he never saw Seungcheol do. Even talking in riddles like he was doing now.

He was on edge since his breakup with his "girlfriend" but his attitude was just not it.

"St—"

"Go home, Chan."

"Bu—"

"Go. Home."

"Alright, lay off of her though."

"You brat," Chan was out of his cabin before Seungcheol threw the ball on his desk at him not before he ran into the one and only Kang Jieun who looked so exhausted bringing over another set of dish for taste testing.

"Good luck," She freezes hearing Chan and says nothing before rushing inside.

"What is with this people today?" He mutters to himself before shaking his head to let it go just go home.

It was a bit late than usual when he usually runs into you after work, so Chan rushes as soon as he can after getting to his car only to find you in front of the apartment block wearing a coat larger than your size clutching it tight to yourself.

He leaves his car to a side running towards you, to see you literally shaking despite the sweat on your forehead.

"Hey, Is everything alright?"

You choke out something but shake your head, your eyes were filled with tears and you were biting your cheeks.

"Someone tried to open my door, I.. I chalked it up to them finding wrong apartment—" A tear slips from your eyes, he wipes it away, "—But they tried to do it again and again," he watches your throat tighten and you take a gulp of water he hands over to you making you sit on a bench nearby before you can continue.

"Did you see who it was?" Chan was holding himself back from running out to find who it was and smash them against a wall for scaring you this much.

"Kyumin, the guy who tried to take my bags the other day," He saw your eyes now burn with the kind of anger that reflected his own. You looked hurt, sad and also so angry you were crushing the bottle in your grip. It must be your fight or flight response, rushing you through both.

"Do you know where he is?" Despite knowing you were just as angry and mad to take down that man, Chan softened his tone towards you, to make you feel safe and comfortable talking to him.

You shake your head at him, telling him that when you saw that it was Kyumin from your front door camera and tried to open the door holding onto your baseball bat, that bastard ran away. And you came down to the play area immediately because you did not feel safe staying there anymore.

"I know a way to find him,—" Chan stands up holding out his hand towards you, "— Do you want to do this?"

You look at him, the simmering rage in your eyes reminding him of the moment when he thought that if you committed a murder he would've gotten behind it.

He still would make sure you get away with it if it meant you were going to not shiver and not be scared again because of that bastard.

You were sitting in the police station giving the detective a statement of the incident that happened two hours ago.

Your hands were still shivering and you could not talk properly because of the tears lodged at the back of your throat. The fear does not seem to leave you and you were scared. You did not know what was going through your mind when you ran downstairs taking steps instead of elevator and stood near the guards, the sounds of children giggling and playing around gave you a bit of calm but you could not stop crying at all.

And then Chan found you. He held you as you were breaking. Just as he promised, Chan found Kyumin from the security footage of your community hiding not so far away and he took you along letting you kick the man as long as you pleased before calling the cops. He didn't let Kyumin get to you at all before he punched his nose. You were grateful for Chan about this.

You hear your name being called and turn to see Jieun running towards you with a very angry looking Seungcheol walking in behind her.

What the fuck?

Jieun just sighs and doesn't say anything about her cover being blown as she scoops you into a hug immediately. The familiar scent of your best friend tips off everything for you. The very exhausting and tiring evening wearing down on you as you cry on her shoulder and she holds you through it.

After what seems to be another long hour of collecting statements from you—through out which Jieun holds your hand—and Chan regarding Kyumin, the cops finally let everyone go.

You had so many questions you wanted to ask Jieun about how Seungcheol found out about her, you wanted to thank Chan for swooping in and saving you again. But exhaustion makes your body ache, and darkness consumes you before you know it.

"She will stay with me," Jieun who was none other than the Jiwon aka the fake girlfriend of Seungcheol now stands before Chan and Seungcheol as she looks over to you sleeping inside Chan's car after you passed out.

"I will take care of everything," Seungcheol tells her, no sign of being mad at her for hiding her identity in his eyes as he promises her. Jieun must've found it confusing too but she didn't say anything as Chan hands his car keys to her.

"Take my car. Hyung will give me a ride back home after we are done." Chan tells her and Jieun just gives him an appreciating smile before taking the keys. He watches as they drive away, a bit of relief spreading through him that you were in his car with a person you knew very well to be your emergency contact.

"What do you want to do?" Seungcheol asks his eyes not off of Chan's car.

"Put this bastard behind bars,"

"This is my area of expertise,—"Seungcheol cracks his knuckles before smiling at Chan,"— that fuck is going to rot behind the bars."

Seungcheol wasn't called "The Devil" for a reason, and Chan wasn't his right hand man if they weren't very well known to be dangerous since the moment they became adults. Seungcheol walks away laughing making Chan smile at that. He was going to have fun torturing that guy for everything he had done.

It has been two weeks since the incident at your place and you got know from Jieun the next day, that Kyumin was being booked under so many cases that there would be no way he was going to get out of prison unless he was dead. You wished everyone who went through this psychological torture because of him finally get to have the relief of him being behind the bars. You had to go in for testifying once and that was it you were done, you did not want to hear anymore about him unless if the news was that he was in prison.

The moments were not that noticeable and you blamed yourself for not noticing the signs that he was a stalker with the way he acted.

Knowing he was going to rot with the amount of cases someone dig up to keep him down in prison for the rest of his life gave you a semblance of relief. Yet, going back to your place scared you more than you liked to admit. But the longer you stayed with your best friend, the more she would start treating you with fragility and you didn't want that, you didn't want to worry her that she called you at any moment she was free to see if you were feeling okay or if you were eating well.

So after a week you told her everything was fine and got back to your place, it reminding you of everything no less than an house of horrors.

You would get through this, you can't make everyone worry sick because you did not want to see that sympathy in their eyes when they looked at you. No, you were not going to be weak.

Throwing yourself in work seemed like the best option, while you felt the need to face a few things, you just did not have the heart to go out and meet people only for them to see your hands shiver and —

"Boss, the reports regarding—"

"Yeah, leave it here." You cut Seungkwan off who just nods, the air in the room off. You sense it and see that everyone is staring at you, worried about you. Fuck.

"It's pretty late, you guys should leave."

"What about y—"

"I'll be fine," They hesitate for a while but when you glare at them they immediately move. The sounds of chairs being pushed back and computers being shut with hurry as everyone tries to pack up makes you huff out a laugh making everyone freeze.

"We love you, boss!" All of them yell at once, the people passing through watch it and it makes you laugh so hard you give them a thumbs up as they leave.

The laugh builds up and up for a moment before you burst out into tears on your desk.

Why weren't you strong enough to move on? Why were you still scared of going home? Fuck, you were supposed to be strong, but it hurts you so much to try and act like you can get through this. Why was this haunting you even in waking hours?

Fuck!

You pack up and get out of your office, the traffic not helping your mood a bit nor does the sound of your stomach rumbling that echoes in your car as you park. You check the time and groan seeing its almost 9'O clock. Instead of going back to your place you get out and decide to walk to the nearby restaurant, hoping that maybe the evening walk would help.

The cool evening air embraces you softly as you make your way out of the apartment blocks, kids playing around soothing you like it always does. You liked kids, until a certain decibels maybe. Walking into a lane full of restaurants, you see a line of people waiting to get into one of them that looks new. You decide to skip the wait to get to the one beside it, a hole in the wall place that you knew would have the best food and service.

To prove you right, it was completely filled with chatter, hearty laughs from students and adults. You needed normality to forget everything, to move on. And you couldn't breakdown again, you have to hold yourself together like you always do.

"Alone?" An old lady asks you as you walk in, you nod and she just smiles pointing you towards a spot that is just perfect. Against the window you can look outside as people cross the place and most importantly the fan overhead along with pretty lights.

After giving her your order and her pinching your cheeks for reason unknown but making you smile like a child, you walk towards your place and take a seat.

"Had a good day?" You almost tumble out of your chair when you hear the voice as you curse out loud.

"Fuck, you scared me." Chan just laughs at you, his hand on yours to make sure you weren't actually falling out of your chair.

It has been two weeks since you last saw him and it somehow feels like a lifetime. His hair grew a bit resembling a mullet, strands of it falling on his face, his eyes looked a bit tired but shined as they took you in. He was wearing a his usual suit the jacket thrown over his chair, his black shirt stretched over his chest and you immediately look away.

"How are you?" His voice was softer now, gentle just the way Jieun talked to you nowadays, you were sick of it.

"I'm perfectly fine," you reply curtly, the tone being more cold than you initially tried to convey. You did not want one more person to treat you like you were made of glass. It was getting tiring and you so badly wanted people to treat you like they usually did.

"Okay," And the rest of the night he doesn't say anything, except pouring water into your glass from the pitcher, sliding over a pair of chopsticks. Giving you tissues when the food almost makes you cry when it gets so spicy.

He was silently present, making sure you could lean on him despite your little cold answer just now and it hurts you. Seeing Chan again was not supposed to go this way. You were supposed to thank him for listening to you that day. For letting you kick that bastard without getting a scratch on yourself. For making sure you were safe the entire time. But instead you were acting the wrong way. Like he was the one who wronged you.

You did not like this at all. Why were you making a mess of things when they were perfectly fine? Why were you crying at everything?

"I think that's a lot," Chan's voice jerks you out of your thoughts, his hand on yours as he stops you from downing another glass of soju. You look around to see almost 4 empty of bottles of it, the restaurant you were in now almost empty and your bowls of foods were cleaned thoroughly by you.

Your limit was 1 bottle, but you drank 4? Oh fuck you were going to be a mess. You had to call Jieun. You try to get your phone out and call her but it slips from your hand and clatters on the ground with your screen getting cracked.

"Oh god," you feel water droplets on your hand, and realize you are crying. No, not again. You were getting tired of crying for everything. You sit down, closing your eyes to hold them back and do so successfully but it all goes to vain when you open your eyes to see Chan kneeling in front of you on the floor, his eyes filled with concern and hand holding out tissues for you.

Chan did not know what he did that made you act so curtly, but that did not hold him back from helping you throughout the night. Your act of drinking did concern him, but when you started blabbering words that made no sense, he decided it was time to step in even of you did not want him too.

The signs were there, you were hurting and pushing anyone away if they showed you slight concern. He knew it well, he acted the same way when people talked shit about him poaching off of Seungcheol's family as if that was true in any way. Seungcheol had his back glaring at people whenever he was around and heard shit like that but Chan could not say anything without it back firing again. It broke him just like you were breaking right now.

He shakes his head and sees you on the floor holding your phone that was cracked and crying. You stop a second later though, biting your cheeks to stop crying. That breaks his heart so much that he wishs he could get back into that holding cell to break that bastard's bones again.

The day after he was apprehended, Seungcheol helped him pull out all the previous crimes he committed and got away with, many of his victims were ready to get that bastard in if it meant he would stop torturing them the way they did to you too, and because of Seungcheol's little connections Chan would go in to that holding cell every night and take out every ounce of his stress on him.

Was it right? No.

Would that change anything? A little.

Would that make Chan see red a little less than he was seeing? Absolutely.

So he did not stop until Seungcheol stepped in and told him that prison was not going to be fun for that fucker and Chan should lay off if he did not want to kill him.

While the idea was entertaining to Chan, it was messy. So, he left the rest of it to Seungcheol who took his sweet time to make sure that idiot was stuck in prison for the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry," you were talking pretty calmly for a person who was blabbering just a moment ago, Chan did not know if he had to be concerned or relieved about it though.

"There is nothing to be sorry about," he helps you up, grabbing your bag and his jacket to walk you home. You do not protest, trying your best to walk in your heels but you do almost trip twice.

"Hold on a second," he leans you against a wall before making you wear his jacket and throwing your bag onto his neck before sliding his arms under your knees and head to lift you up.

"Woah," you react, your hands around his neck holding tight at that moment before you relax against him.

"You good?" You just nod and stay like that, having you in his arms giving him a sense of calmness he did not have since the day you left to stay at your friend's. Jieun was kind enough to fill Chan in on details on how you were doing whenever their paths crossed at work, but she never asked why he was interested in knowing though. Even if she suspected anything, she did not say.

That was how he knew you came back to your place a week ago, but he somehow never ran into you. You moved in shadows and when he did see you once and tried to approach you, you were gone in a split second

The guards just smile at Chan as he walks in, your breathes become a bit shallow as you fall asleep in his arms. He moves slowly not to wake you up but also mostly not to lose the feeling of you in his arms too quickly. He liked the warmth you gave him, the lavender scent of yours that became a part of relaxing him too.

Getting to your door he slowly lays you down on your feet, you stumble for a moment but just stand there against your door not going in and just looking at him, your head tilted a sign of you drunk making him laugh like a silly man.

"Thank you for saving me that day,"

"I would've done anything if you asked me, princess—" he says trying to lighten your mood, "—It is my job as your knight, is it not?" You smile at him as he says that. A giddy smile and it strikes his heart as those dimples pop out.

"Anything?" Chan nods and you take a step towards him, looking up at him with those hazel eyes.

"Kiss me." You whisper, his heart racing as he realizes what you just said.

"You're drunk,"

"You said you'd do anything I ask," you pout. Chan almost scoffs at you for pouting, weakening his stance every second just by standing so close to him and asking him to kiss you.

"Well, I guess I should ask someone els—"

He bends closer to you, your eyes go wide as your words drop out of your mouth.

"You will not." Chan says, his eyes not leaving yours.

"And who are you to tell me what to do?"

"You're testing me,"

"Yes, so?"

You just stare at him, defiance in your stance making him wonder if you were actually sober. While he knows if he doesn't kiss you, you would not ask anyone else, but who was he to not play your game.

But then in a split second you drop to your knees, holding your head in your hands as you take heavy breaths.

"I might be getting sick."

"What's your door code?" He asks as you stand up to enter it yourself but fumble it twice before shaking your head. You must not be able to see well.

"Can I take you to my place?" You were now covering your mouth, and nod.

He holds you, taking you to his place guiding you to the washroom. He comes in to hold your hair, but your short hair keeps slipping from his loose grip that he ends up keeping a shower cap on your head so it won't fall out as you puke your guts out.

"Are you feeling better?" You nod and then you just lay against the wall making Chan sigh. He helps you up and laying you down on his couch, worrying you would not like to fall asleep in his bed.

"You think I'll be okay?" You try to talk to him. There were tears in your eyes as you look at Chan from the couch. He brushes the hair falling on your face back as he nods.

"Yes, I do."

"Even if I'm not strong?"

"You are the strongest person I know,"

"I missed you, my knight in shining armor," you give him a tired smile, making him smile too. What would he not do to just see you smile everyday, he was whipped and he did not know if he would find this kind of peace anywhere else other than when he was beside you.

"I missed you too, my princess."

Listen, you weren't the best at holding your alcohol but you did not think you would get yourself embarrassed, twice in front of the man you were actively crushing on. When you woke up you almost screamed taking on the unfamiliar surroundings. The photo frame on the table beside the couch told you that this was Chan's place.

Oh boy.

And as if it could not get any worse with your head blasting, you realize you remember nothing from last night except one thing. You asked him to kiss you. But you do not know if he did indeed. You were going to stop drinking now from now on.

Waking up on his house, Where he put you to sleep on his couch, with a blanket draped over you, you think he might have not kissed you. But you did not trust yourself.

"Good morning," Chan greets you walking in to the living room from what you guess must be where he slept. He is also wearing nothing but sweatpants that hang low on his hips. He is killing you first thing in morning.

"Breakfast?"

"Yes," you slowly get out of the couch trudging yourself over to the kitchen. His apartment had the same layout as yours, and he decorated it so well. You were glad to be here in his own space, because you would have otherwise never guessed Chan was into musicals unless you saw the posters hanging in his bedroom.

Yes, you peeked a little in to what looked like his bedroom before he could catch you.

He doesn't say anything as you take a seat at the table pouring yourself a glass of water. He moves around the kitchen with an expertise of someone who cooked their whole life and was always known to make the best dishes.

"How's your head?" He grabs plates and lays them on the table before getting the eggs he made to place in front of you, you help him grab glasses on the other side of the table along with spoons and forks. It felt domestic, the way both of you moved around together.

"Exploding." You watch his lips twitch at your description.

"Look, I am so sorry I keep bothering you all the time, it is not what it looks—"

"You are never a bother to me," he says it so easily as if it was breathing. And he doesn't even look up from serving the breakfast on to your plate as he does.

"Yes, the situations we end up in are often crazy but I never regretted being in them—" His gaze comes to yours now, warmth rushing over your body, "—especially if it means I get to spend it with you."

Wow. Flirting was not new to you, it was just a game of push and pull until someone ended up in others bed. But when you flirted with Chan, you knew it wasn't just attraction, you wanted to always see his eyes that comforted you and that laugh that rushed through you.

And seeing him admit it out loud changes things. In a good way.

"Did I…. You know… ki—" He interrupts as you look so uncomfortable asking him the question. You weren't new to it, but you were new to everything when it came to him.

"No, I did not. You were drunk and I did not want to take advantage of it."

"What if I was sober?"

"I would've done it." He admits it quickly making you wish you hadn't asked the question.

"Take me out before you do that, Mr. Gentleman." You try to joke but he doesn't laugh.

"Well, since it's Saturday."

"No, I was just joking—"

"Will you go on a date with me."

"Yes," You shock yourself with answering so quickly as if you weren't just trying to convince him that you were joking but he doesn't seem to be shocked nor does he look like he was going to judge you for that.

"Thank you for the breakfast," You make a run towards the couch and grab your things.

"I'll meet you at 5 in the evening, and make sure to dress comfortably!"

You just yell back an "Okay" running out of his place but stop in front of yours listening to his laugh flowing out of his own to the entire floor.

You just slowly hit your head against your apartment door after you get in.

You felt like a schoolgirl reliving her first love and you do not regret feeling that way.

Listen, you weren't the best at holding your alcohol but you did not think you would get yourself embarrassed, twice in front of the man you were actively crushing on. When you woke up you almost screamed taking on the unfamiliar surroundings. The photo frame on the table beside the couch told you that this was Chan's place.

Oh boy.

And as if it could not get any worse with your head blasting, you realize you remember nothing from last night except one thing. You asked him to kiss you. But you do not know if he did indeed. You were going to stop drinking now from now on.

Waking up on his house, Where he put you to sleep on his couch, with a blanket draped over you, you think he might have not kissed you. But you did not trust yourself.

"Good morning," Chan greets you walking in to the living room from what you guess must be where he slept. He is also wearing nothing but sweatpants that hang low on his hips. He is killing you first thing in morning.

"Breakfast?"

"Yes," you slowly get out of the couch trudging yourself over to the kitchen. His apartment had the same layout as yours, and he decorated it so well. You were glad to be here in his own space, because you would have otherwise never guessed Chan was into musicals unless you saw the posters hanging in his bedroom.

Yes, you peeked a little in to what looked like his bedroom before he could catch you.

He doesn't say anything as you take a seat at the table pouring yourself a glass of water. He moves around the kitchen with an expertise of someone who cooked their whole life and was always known to make the best dishes.

"How's your head?" He grabs plates and lays them on the table before getting the eggs he made to place in front of you, you help him grab glasses on the other side of the table along with spoons and forks. It felt domestic, the way both of you moved around together.

"Exploding." You watch his lips twitch at your description.

"Look, I am so sorry I keep bothering you all the time, it is not what it looks—"

"You are never a bother to me," he says it so easily as if it was breathing. And he doesn't even look up from serving the breakfast on to your plate as he does.

"Yes, the situations we end up in are often crazy but I never regretted being in them—" His gaze comes to yours now, warmth rushing over your body, "—especially if it means I get to spend it with you."

Wow. Flirting was not new to you, it was just a game of push and pull until someone ended up in others bed. But when you flirted with Chan, you knew it wasn't just attraction, you wanted to always see his eyes that comforted you and that laugh that rushed through you.

And seeing him admit it out loud changes things. In a good way.

"Did I…. You know… ki—" He interrupts as you look so uncomfortable asking him the question. You weren't new to it, but you were new to everything when it came to him.

"No, I did not. You were drunk and I did not want to take advantage of it."

"What if I was sober?"

"I would've done it." He admits it quickly making you wish you hadn't asked the question.

"Take me out before you do that, Mr. Gentleman." You try to joke but he doesn't laugh.

"Well, since it's Saturday."

"No, I was just joking—"

"Will you go on a date with me."

"Yes," You shock yourself with answering so quickly as if you weren't just trying to convince him that you were joking but he doesn't seem to be shocked nor does he look like he was going to judge you for that.

"Thank you for the breakfast," You make a run towards the couch and grab your things.

"I'll meet you at 5 in the evening, and make sure to dress comfortably!"

You just yell back an "Okay" running out of his place but stop in front of yours listening to his laugh flowing out of his own to the entire floor.

You just slowly hit your head against your apartment door after you get in.

You felt like a schoolgirl reliving her first love and you do not regret feeling that way.

To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you had no idea where he was going to take you and that just meant you had to dress in a way that would suit wherever he did take you.

But you also recognize it as soon as you get back to your place, the fear that drowned you whenever you stepped here was now replaced with an excitement that was not going to let you feel that fear again. You were thankful to Chan for that, and also Jieun who was on the call since last two hours making sure you were safe but not talking to you like you were fragile anymore.

She was back to throwing orders and gushing over you for going on a date with someone you liked for the first time in a while. Because this was all you wanted.

After seeing that it's already 5:00, you tell her you are going to update her on how it goes and cut the call as you look yourself into the mirror checking your outfit.

You were wearing an white off shoulder knit top with low rise jeans, you topped it off with throwing on a printed scarf and a bunch of your regular accessories — your vintage watch and a bracelet along with a few rings. It was comfortable, as he asked you to dress and you felt pretty.

The door bell goes off freezing you for a moment before you take a deep breathe in to calm and remind yourself that the person on the other side of the door was not going to hurt you as you walk to slowly open the door.

"Hey," You greet him locking the door behind you and finally take him in. He is wearing a pair of black shirt and pants, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his veined arms that were crossed as he leaned against the wall waiting for you.

"You look pretty," he says taking you in, you really stop yourself from turning so red as he does.

"You don't look so bad yourself," he just laughs holding out his hand for you to take. You slip yours into his and he squeezes it.

"Where are we going?"

"On a date,"

"So funny,"

"I try to be,"

"Just tell me, Chan." He doesn't say anything after that, no matter all the threats you make to go back home or get out of the car. He just drives pop songs filling the car as you forget about asking him about destination for a minute as you sing along to them but remember again to ask. He doesn't answer no matter what with a wicked smile on his face, and soon drives to a familiar road and then you see it, the movie theater you frequently visited.

"It was Jieun, was it not?" You ask as he parks the car and opens the door for you. He signals for you to hold his hand, and you do.

"Yes, but I guessed the movie. She just gave me the idea."

"Points for you, Mr. Lee."

"Stop taunting me, now."

"What are you going to do?" You tease him and he just squeezes your hand before smirking at you as an answer. And nothing more. You feel your insides getting hot at that.

Chan never thought he would ever love going to watch movies as much as he was doing with you. You were so immersed, your cheeks red whenever you realized he was looking at you instead of watching Ryan Gosling figure out how to talk to an alien being.

You cried a few times, you were in awe during the scenes that were filmed so beautifully, but he was in awe of how beautiful you looked falling in love with the movie.

Jieun told him you loved watching movies. Photography was something you always adored about them and the first thought that crossed Chan's mind was Project Hail Mary that was running in theaters. Jieun visually patted his back at the idea and threatened to take him down if he even made you cry and Chan was just happy you had someone so wonderful like her in your corner.

He had to later cut the call because Seungcheol was glaring at him through the video call, he was always a bit moody in the mornings. His brother was so in love with Jieun that the fact that there was a whole drama about her faking her identity did not matter to him anymore because he was afraid of losing the best thing he ever found. Chan could relate.

"She was never fake, it was just a different name," was what Seungcheol said looking lovesick because apparently at the time he lectured Chan to go and fight for you was around when he fell in love with Jieun.

You were now talking about how good the movie was as you continued eating your food. Each point well made that just made him admire you more and respect you for remembering things about something you loved despite it not being a part of your daily life as you kept saying.

"I really don't get to watch good movies anymore because of work, so this was a breathe of fresh air."

"I'm glad I made a good choice,"

"Yes, you did."

"Did you like the movie?" You asked him.

"I enjoyed it very much too, especially watching Ryan Gosling in glasses."

"He looked good, did he not?"

"He did." Chan answered raising a brow at you and you just turn red again finding the leftover pasta sauce on your plate so interesting, making him laugh at how reactive and open you were about how you felt.

You were headstrong, flirting with him all the time and he got hard whenever you did that, not that he would admit it yet. But when you blushed at everything and smiled so wide, it made him want to fall on his knees for you. Like you were something so precious he would rather die than ever hurt you. He realized he missed that smile the last two weeks.

"Where to now?" You ask, strapping yourself in and giggling like a kid as he drives out of the theater. Chan just looks at you with a smirk and doesn't say anything because he really loved the way you pouted whenever he kept you in the dark. Your lower lip jutted out while your eyes resembled boba, it was the most adorable thing he has ever seen and if to see that he had to be difficult with you, he would. Unfortunately, he cannot for longer periods of time.

Because the second he drives inside the parking lot and sees you looking at him like he is an interesting case you were trying to solve, or try reading into his mind just by staring at him, Chan leans over pecking your nose watching your jaw drop.

And then he runs out, you follow huffing at him because now you were turning red with each passing second and Chan knew he had to make up to the promise he made early in the morning. He tries to make you look at him, but you don't making him hold back his laugh that was bubbling out of him as he sees you look so shy.

"Look at me," He finally holds your hand again and this time you do not slip yours from his. But when he looks at you, he sees you raising a brow, your tongue poking your cheek as you pull him closer. He watches your eyes look at his lips, and then you are pushing him against your door and kissing him stupid.

Chan feels like he is in heaven. Because he knew pushing you to a certain point you were a completely different person, someone who would kiss him stupid like he wanted.

Chan tastes your strawberry lip gloss, the taste being so yourself and he does not hold himself back. Your hands were now holding his shoulders trying to reach his face, while Chan's roam around your waist, drawing maps on your back. You were nothing but an exquisite taste, and he fights with your tongue feeling you smile against his face, as you pull back to catch your breath.

Your face looking totally flushed, and your lips looking so plump from kissing him. You looked like an angel.

Oh, you were going to be the death of him.

It was hot, everything was hot and you did not wait as you nodding as he asked if you wanted to go to your place or his. Yours was a mess, so his it was. Once he opened the door, he had you against it, his hands holding you tight to himself as your tongues danced to a rhythm that moved both of your bodies. It was wonderful and everything you's every dreamed of.

But what you did not dream of was him asking you to jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist asking if you really wanted to do this in most softest way. You replied kissing him hard, completely opposite of how he was holding you and treating you.

He walked towards his bedroom holding you like you weighed nothing. Laying you down on his bed and you immediately moved back towards the headboard, your cheeks hurting with the way you could not stop smiling because of him. Within seconds he was on you again, kissing you like he was a dying man and you were the answer to all of his prayers. It was messy, wet and just the way you liked it.

"Just so you know—" you tell him when he pulls back once to look at you, "—I don't sleep with anybody on the first date."

"I am honored to be breaking your rules then, Princess." He smiles against your mouth.

"Up," He taps on your arms and pulls your top over your head as you raise your hands, his eyes darkening as he takes you in. You help him pull out your jeans too, his clothes joining the pile of yours a second later. You were left in nothing but a pair of panties sticking to you the wetness so obvious to him and his hard member aching to be set free against his boxers.

"You are so gorgeous," He whispers before holding your hands above your head, his path of kisses trailing to your neck finding the sweet spot as he sucks over it and kisses on it again making sure to leave a mark before doing the same thing again and again at every place he finds.

But soon his attention gets completely stolen by your breasts, his hands leaving yours to focus on them, his tongue darts out sucking one while his thumb flicks playing with the other. Your hands drift into his long hair tugging them as the sensation gets too much and he responds with curses but doesn't stop and keeps on doing the same thing alternating his mouth and hands on one and the other never leaving them alone.

"Chan, Please." You plead him. To stop or to keep going? You did not know either.

"What do you want, princess?" His asks, his voice raspy as he looks at you. The string of saliva from his lips to your breasts destroying any sense of sanity your mind had left making you nothing but a putty in his arms.

"Want you...." He pinches your nipples making your eyes roll back and you let out a moan your back arching as you come.

Fuck, you were embarrassed to find your release just by being played with your nipples.

"Look here," He holds your chin before you try to look away, his chocolate brown eyes were now nothing just darkness that swallowed you in like it was black hole.

"That was hot," You just give him an awkward smile at that and he smiles at you before leaning and kissing your forehead. He gets down and takes down his boxers immediately, his cock stands up and almost hitting his stomach making you clench your thighs. And you see him, as he sees you do that.

He jumps on you like an animal, kissing you stupid as you feel his hand trail to your thighs, the other one holding them apart.

"I am going to make you cum on my tongue and then on my fingers before I put my cock in. You good with that, Princess?" You nod and he disappears between your thighs. His tongue sucking on your clit while he pushes in a finger.

"Fuck, you're so tight." God, he had such a nasty mouth.

He adds another finger in, his face never looking up even when you tug on his hair hardly, your thighs wrapped around his face almost suffocating him. If anything, he soon adds a third finger and you feel yourself getting closer even though you just came a moment ago. His ministrations make your eyes roll, the moans spilling out of you would have been a big problem to your neighbors but it doesn't look that bad because it was neighbor indeed, who was the cause behind your sounds.

"I'm close, fuck."

"Come on my tongue. You're doing so good," And he looks up, his fingers pushing in and out of you but his gaze never wavering as he makes you come again and again just as he promised. You pull him up, unable to hold on any longer as your hands start stroking his cock and he curses his head falling on your shoulder.

"Stop doing that," He grunts at you but you just smile and keep stroking him, whatever you can fit into your single hand, he was quite big.

"Fuck," He flips you on your stomach, the slap on your ass making you moan and arch your back at him.

"You like that?" He does it again leaning over your shoulder as he whispers in her your ear. You nod unable to form any words anymore, you vocabulary being nothing but sounds and his being nothing but grunts. He pushes his cock into your hole at once, without any warning making you arch your back gasping at the sudden intrusion and he laughs. He goes slow teasing you, your mind becomes a puddle as you want him to go faster and just use you instead.

No one ever made you feel this way in bed and you really liked this.

"Faster. Chan," His slow pace comes to a halt as he looks at you.

"You sure?" You nod pushing your hips against his and he curses before going as you asked.

He picks up his pace, leaning over your shoulder to grunt right into your ears, the sound throwing you off the edge just like everything he does. His hands sneaks up on you catching your throat, the grip tightening just enough and his other finds your clit.

"You like this?"

"Fuck, you are taking me so well."

"Say my name."

He has a dirty mouth thing. He says them as he goes faster, neither of his hands moving nor does he as he continues making noises near your ear.

"I'm coming,"

"Come inside," You plead him, your voice was not something you recognized anymore.

"You are going to be the death of me," he grunts out working his fingers on your clit as he makes sure you both can come together, and then you feel the air whooshing out of your lungs as you come and fall against the pillows, him following you a beat later. He removes the pillow he set under your stomach—which you did not notice him keeping there, and lays you down kissing your forehead before pulling out of you and getting down. You start missing his warmth not even a moment after.

He moves with precise movements as he brings out a wet cloth cleaning you thoroughly as you lay exhausted in his bed. He later joins you, pulling the covers over both of you and tucking you close to his heart, you feel it thumping against his chest so heavily.

"You were wonderful, baby." He kisses your forehead and you sigh smiling and laying on his chest. You feel so full, literally and figuratively, feel so happy and comfortable as he hugs you that you could not make what he was saying anymore as the tiredness consumed you making you fall asleep against the now steady beating of his heart.

When he woke up and saw the bed empty beside him, he thought you left. So, he ran out to the living room just to find you wearing your pajamas, which you must've gone out to your place and came back in. Seeing your hair being wet and looking fresh, he assumed you took a bath.

You look at him from the kitchen, holding bread in one hand and peanut butter in other. You place them on the counter, opening your arms for him and he runs to you, tackling you into a hug.

Kissing you was always the plan, but everything that followed was just him unable to hold back after touching you. He was addicted to you, like a drug that kept him alive. Your moans, the dazed look in your eyes and most importantly the way you trusted him. It made him hard again to think about it.

He pushed you against his kitchen counter kissing you slow, your hands over his neck pulling him closer as he does.

"Good morning," you whisper against his lips, a smile blossoming on yours and it spreads to him.

"Good morning."

"You look cute," He tells you pointing at the cherry pajamas now you were wearing.

"Thank you."

"Breakfast?" He asks ready to cook something but you just pull him back, hugging him tight shaking your head.

"After the marathon last night, you need to eat something that is not bread and peanut butter, princess."

"We could order in instead, lay down on the couch and….." you drawl out.

"And?" Chan tilted his head, liking your idea of a morning after a wonderful night.

"And maybe I'll let you eat me out?" You lean and whisper it in his ear and he immediately picks you up throwing you over his shoulders. You giggle, kicking your feet as he lays you down on the couch and unlocks his phone and gives it to you.

"Order the food, princess." Chan orders you, as he pulls down your pants to find you wear nothing. He smiles diving in as he feels your hands hold and tug his hair, his phone long forgotten as he eats dessert.

He did not know any other way to spend his morning with anything better than eating you out and listening to the sounds you make.

Good Morning to him, indeed.

To say you were insatiable would not be enough because you did not want to be separated from Chan or not have his mouth on you at any given time to the point it was getting concerning.

You lost count of the places he took you against. His place or yours? Did not matter anymore.

The shower, the kitchen counter, right against your door after work when you run into each other, the couches, the dining tables. And especially whenever he came back from running, because you loved how handsome he looked when he was breathless.

And Chan ate you out solely for his pleasure and god, that kind of men were the dangerous of all because he had you wrapped around his fingers, literally every day and night.

It has been three months since your first date and the wonderful events that followed, and life was getting better to say the least.

You were feeling a lot better after everything that happened, thanks to the people around you. You were also regularly having team dinners, your members spirits getting high. The usual banter, karaoke sessions and drunk nights when Chan came to pick you up and Seungkwan just gave you a thumbs up every time he saw the both of you while the others teased you about it.

But also most importantly, you had Chan — who planned such thoughtful dates you pinched yourself every single day to have him as yours. And whenever you planned dates for him, he would always show his gratitude by fucking you so good, that you would see the stars.

And the best part of having Chan as your boyfriend was dancing in the kitchen at midnights, laughing at Seungcheol whenever you and Jieun planned double dates— Seungcheol would just glare at you both or pout shocking you sometimes but he doesn't say anything else and you swear you once saw something akin to happiness in his eyes when he looked at Chan. The both of you were still scared of him though.

It was also nice have someone who would hold you tight after a very long exhausting day and whisper sweet nothings to you.

When you asked Chan about what was the best thing about having you as his girlfriend, he looked you dead in your eyes and said, "I get to see those dimples when you smile so wide," and went on to kiss you on your cheek before driving off to work. Leaving you stunned in front of your work place.

Safe to say, he was just as deep as you in this shit.

As usual, life cannot be rainbows and sunshine for so long because you were standing in front of your home, Chan squeezing your hand as you contemplated meeting your father.

"I can come along if you want," he offers, kissing your hand.

"This is my battle, Chan. I can't have him hurt you when we get inside, I would not let him breathe if he does so."

Chan was the best thing that happened to you. You were not going to let your father take him away from you.

"Okay, My queen—," He kisses you the taste of strawberry lip balm of yours he keeps stealing evident on his lips,"—Give them hell."

You watch as he walks back into his car and signaling you to walk in before he drives away. He called you his queen nowadays, and while you really liked being called princess, queen just hits different.

You look back at the looming door of doom of your house. You did not need to be a mastermind to figure out why your father called you to meet. The tail he put on you—yes, he was capable of doing that shit—must've been giving him information about you living a happy life, and just like the party popper he was, your father did not like it when you were living a happy life without his hand in it. It was some kind of shitty way to control you by holding things over your head if he had a hand in your happiness so you would not act out and since when you did not give him the chance to do so, he would throw a tantrum like a fuckin' child.

"How are you?" Mrs. Chae greets you as you enter in, she starts gushing over you, saying that you were glowing and asking who was it that was behind it.

"I will introduce him when the time is right,"

"Okay, stay mysterious."

"You're here," Your dad breaks the conversation between you and Mrs. Chae as you were talking about life in general, and the mood of the room immediately dampens as he steps in.

"You must really know how to behave with people who are not of your status," He says and you know what and who exactly he was referring to, it just makes your blood boil.

You are going to find exactly who his tail was, because you were not going to let your dad hurt Chan at all.

"You called me to talk about something important, I presume? Or did you want to hear yourself talk?" You ask him with a lethal calmness, your tone sharp.

"You're behavior is not going to be tolerated anymore. Whatever this little rebellion was, put an end to it."

"No." You look at your nails, bored.

"Break up with him," he orders you.

"And if I won't?"

"I will make sure he gets hurt for even looking at something that he does not deserve,"

"I am not an object you own, father. And you dare hurt him, you are going to die without an heir to your legacy."

"How dare you threaten your own father? This is what you become when you whore yourself too people not—"

"Fucking hell, stop talking about status and levels for god's sake. You are going to be buried in the same piece of land they would be buried in."

Your father's face turns red with anger and it makes you smile.

"Stop living in the air castles you keep building, father. When you fall down, there is going to be no one to catch you. Not even me."

"So, you are not going to break up with him?"

"Not a chance."

"Then resign the position you hold in my company." You expected this, he loved his company more than he ever loved you. And if he was going to threaten someone you loved, it was only fair you did the same.

"And people will know you do not have an heir to give your legacy over to—" you lean back in your chair as you continue, "— as a businessman as cruel and cunning as you are, I don't think I need to explain what that means now, do I?"

"Hong—"

"Keep your threats to yourself. If you hurt so much as an hair strand on the man I love, I will break away your empire until there would remain nothing but ash."

You were holding yourself back so much. The tears that were at the back of your throat could not be shown to the monster in front of you. Any sign of weakness and he would call you a child and make you feel small.

"You are sure this man is the one?"

"I swear on your life, I do."

"You are no less than a monster for hurting your own father,"

"I take after you, it would be a shock if I wasn't one." You were done here, you decide you need to get out of this place before the darkness you inherited consumes you whole that you would not see the light on the other side.

You walk out of the place and far away from the estate towards a crowded sidewalk before realizing you were far away from him, from his shadows and it is when you let yourself cry as the feeling of loosing a home finally dawns on you.

This was inevitable. But god, did it not break your heart.

You were sure your father would leave you his legacy, despite him controlling his expressions you saw him looking at you with fear. His clenched jaw a sign of it as something you recognized from his body language, since he never was someone who showed emotions. He considered it to be weak.

That was why you always laughed around with Mrs. Chae, because you were never going to be weak. No matter how much he tried to make you change or lose parts of yourself.

There were moments in your life when everything you dreamed of was your father looking at you with anything but hatred for being the only thing that reminded him of your dead mother. But then you grew up.

Taking away his legacy, the empire he built would not be easy. But being his heir had its perks. And when he decided to be alongside the monsters in hell and leaving you as the heir, you would be ready to make it something you love.

You were going to prove that having a heart does not make anyone weak. And the rest was to be dealt when you crossed that bridge but for now all you wanted to do was go home and hug Chan tightly watching Brooklyn 99 again and laugh together.

Because home is where your heart is, and Chan made a home for you in his.

ONE YEAR LATER

"Do you not like wine anymore?" Seungcheol asked Chan swirling his own glass as he took a sip, tasting it. Chan just looks at him confused.

"I drank wine yesterday?"

"You are not drinking it now,"

"Bullshit," Seungcheol was indeed talking bullshit as Chan suggested because the man was always worried whenever the girls — you and Jieun were out and did not allow him or Chan to tag along. He grew a likening towards you, as someone who always wanted a sister, he wondered if they would be like you if he had one.

It was getting late at night, while he knew Jieun was completely capable of taking care of herself especially with you by her side Seungcheol had no reason to worry but it always slipped through cracks and spread like a virus infecting Chan too.

Now both the men were watching National geography, a specific documentary about animals as they keep stealing glances at their phones on the table in front of them waiting for a call or a text.

"Camels are said to be—" Chan laughs immediately, Seungcheol takes a moment to register but just hits his brother when he realizes what made him laugh.

"It was one time, okay?" Seungcheol tries to defend himself about Jieun saying he looked and ate like a camel once.

"I said nothing," Chan raises his hands.

"You laughed though," Chan looked like he was going to laugh again, but before the oldest could argue his phone rings and he picks it up immediately, clearing his throat before answering.

"Yes,—" he looks at Chan as he answers and after a moment he says, "—we will be there, Thank you."

He cuts the call grabbing his keys and his jacket Chan following him behind as he tosses the keys to the younger.

"It is a rescue call, they are drunk at a restaurant."

Chan huffs out a laugh as he gets into the car to drive and Seungcheol just taps against the dashboard the entire ride. He runs inside as soon as Chan parks the car, making him shake his head at how lovesick the older was. He wasn't any better to be honest.

It has been over an year since they started dating, and not only did Seungcheol's love for Jieun grow exponentially, Chan has seen his grandfather dote on her solely because she made Seungcheol finally want to settle down. While the old man did know about the drama, he brushed it off saying that he did not care about the lengths Jieun went to make sure Seungcheol really loved her or not. It wasn't what it was, but no one wanted to correct him because his believes were completely harmless.

Chan saw you sleeping on the table as Seungcheol tried to wake his girlfriend up but could not to no avail.

Chan gently patted on your shoulder to see you wake up and look at him, the recognition flashing through your eyes as you take him in. Even though it has been over an year, your hazel brown eyes always did a number on his heart. The dimples that pop out when you smile wide too, a common occurrence nowadays and despite you complaining that your cheeks hurt whenever he made you laugh to see those dimples, he never stopped.

He would never.

"Hey," You greet him, voice soft leaving Jieun's hand who was actually a bad drunk just like Seungcheol because Jieun would start crying out of nowhere, but that did not mean the oldest never let her drink. He liked watching her act that way, he liked her in general that was another thing.

You stand up pretty good by yourself for a moment before falling into his arms. He picks you up, and you nuzzle into his neck instinctively just the way you always did before you even got together. The trust you had in him since before that had him wrapped around your fingers.

He lays you down in the backseat beside Jieun who is already asleep. Seungcheol just looks at Jieun and looks ahead the smile on his face never going away. Seungcheol smiling which was a rarity before, was now just something that your friend brought out in him easily. Both of them loving each other whole heartedly. Chan once wondered if his brother would ever find love, he was quite happy seeing them both together now.

You pinch Chan's cheeks before kissing him. "I love you,"

"I love you too," He kisses your forehead as he gets in, followed by Seungcheol. Ready to get back home. He looks at you in the rear view mirror, sleeping so peacefully it warms his heart.

You fought your father for him, who came around a few months later. Chan never knew what exactly happened but that day after you came home, you cried in his arms like you lost someone you loved and he could do nothing but just hold you through it.

And for a woman who fought everything she had to stand beside him and still look at him with so much love, Chan would bring down the world if asked.

Your fates intertwining was the best thing the universe could have done for him. Because without that he never even imagined the alternative of not being by your side, falling in love everyday with all versions of yourself.

You felt the same way too. Looking at your knight who shined like a star, you did not know the alternative of not being by his side, falling in love with him everyday like breathing.

The fate intertwined you two and you couldn't ask for anything better than this love you had. Your love, intertwined like your souls.

Thank you for reading this story and loving this with me!! I'd appreciate to know your thoughts through comments, reblogs. It helps me understand your thoughts and you too.

On the third night of avoiding him like the plague, you wait until you know he’s out on patrol to begin your routine of studying at the dinner table. The distant honking of New York traffic acts as your soundtrack as you settle onto one of two rickety wooden chairs and open your laptop, only for your nose to immediately wrinkle in disgust. You whirl around at the trash can and find it overflowing with garbage. Hansol, as clean of a roommate as he was, tended to forget to take out the trash until your entire apartment smelled like a subway station. Not wanting to talk to him and tell him to take it out when he got back from patrol, you make a mental note to throw it out after you finished up the assignment that was freshly on your mind. One assignment turned to two, which turned to five, which turned to reviewing for your upcoming exam until several hours had passed with you hunched over the table and muttering chemical formulas to yourself like a witch. Your hand smudges the ink of the notecard you’ve been writing on and you crumple it up to toss it in the trash.

The trash! 

You curse colorfully under your breath and push away from the table, shoving the boxes of macaroni and cheese and empty soup cans down until the plastic bag is on the verge of tearing. It’s ridiculously heavy, so much so that you’re not able to tie the two bright yellow handles, and your arms are aching by the time you haul it down the stairs and into the alley with the dumpsters. At the end of the dark walkway are a handful of people that you can see throwing punches and kicking at something in the corner, and you move a little more hurriedly to toss the bag and escape back inside. It takes you a few tries to lift the bag enough to get it high enough to clear the edge of the dumpster, but something you hear down the alley makes you pause when you successfully get it hanging over the edge like a gross wet blanket.

“This is what you fucking get, you web-slinging asshole!”

“Yeah, we’re gonna beat you until you bleed the same color as your ugly-ass suit!” 

Hansol. Your stomach drops and your hands are moving without thinking, reaching up to tear open the bag and allow the contents of the garbage bag to spill onto the wet asphalt. The noise catches the attention of one of the attackers, and he turns just in time for an empty can of chicken noodle to hit him square in the nose. He shouts more in anger than pain, but you’re already slinging more cans by the time he gets his buddies to turn around, too. You silently thank your local bodega for having a buy-one-get-three deal on soup cans, because you’re hurling them at the speed of a shotgun and barely into half the bag. The attackers swear in outrage and charge at you, but you keep on throwing whatever your hand grabs in the bag. The trash is light enough to be harmless but solid enough to be inconvenient; you fight the urge to laugh when the nearest guy running at you slips on a can of tomato soup and faceplants in the concrete. 

As the guys that were once attacking Spiderman now approach to corner you, you scramble backward until you collide with the wall of another dumpster. One of the attacker’s hands moves in slow motion to grab the collar of your pajama shirt when he’s violently thrown to the side, a glob of webbing gluing his wrist to the opposite wall. Hansol becomes the target of aggression once more, but he leaps between the walls of the alley to avoid hits and watches in delight as his enemies roll their feet over soup cans and scramble around in a panic. Pressed against the dumpster, you stand frozen as every guy attacking Hansol is webbed up with a healthy amount over their mouth to shut them up. Only when the last attacker trips backward over a soup can and falls unconscious on the ground does your roommate turn to you, carefully kicking away any trash that might catch your slipper-covered feet.

“Are you hurt?” Hansol asks and you shake your head, staring at him in slight bewilderment. “Are you sure?” You nod slowly, still not saying a word. He sighs and winces as he places pressure on his left foot. “Can we go inside? I need to pop an Ibuprofen and explain some things.” You swallow and nod again, reaching out on instinct to catch his forearm as he stumbles. He lets you help him up the fire escape and clamber into your living room, where he finally tugs off his mask as you pull the curtains for good measure. “Can I–”

“Nope,” you interrupt shortly. “Shut up.”

“But–”

“Lay there and be quiet while I get you painkillers,” you order and he obeys, his arms flopping against the rug until he’s sprawled out like a sea star. You scrub your hands in the kitchen sink until they feel raw and surely contain no more traces of garbage. After retrieving a few pills from the medicine cabinet and a glass of tap water, you sit cross-legged on the floor next to him and hold out both. “Here. Drink.” He sits up with a groan and your hand steadies his shoulder immediately while he gulps down the medicine and places the glass on the coffee table. 

“Can I apologize now?” Your eyebrows pinch.

“What do you need to apologize for?” Hansol winces and shuffles himself until he can lean up against the couch. You sit right next to him, stretching out your legs beside him and trying not to think about your bare arm brushing against the fabric of his suit. 

“I realized that how I told you about,” he pauses and gestures to himself, “all of this, was not the best way I could have done it.” You shrug. A coil in your chest unwinds itself at the ease of which you can talk to your roommate again. 

“I don’t know if there was any way you could have done it without me freaking out,” you admit. “You know me. Freaking out is my superpower.” 

“I’d say you have other superpowers, coming from the guy who has actual superpowers,” argues Hansol. “Throwing soup cans with impeccable aim is one of them.” You snort and nudge him as gently as you can with your shoulder. “Really, though. I’m sorry I freaked you out. I know all of this is overwhelming, especially since it’s happening literally in your own home.”

“Or the alley outside of it,” you add and he nods.

“Exactly. I wouldn’t,” he sighs, gathering his words, “I wouldn’t blame you if you kicked me out.” You frown and shake your head so adamantly, your neck hurts.

“I’d never do that,” you promise. “How would I live with myself if I knew I was the one who made Spiderman homeless?” He laughs and immediately hisses in pain, grabbing his side. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. A gnarly bruise is worth it if you’re joking with me again,” Hansol says. “What can I do to make it up to you?” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I feel like an asshole for making you uncomfortable in your own place,” he continues. “Anything, really. Just name it and let me absolve my guilt.”

“Okay, drama queen,” you scoff. You think for a moment and look at him with a soft smile that makes his ears turn pink. “Replace the bag for the trash can and we’ll call it even.” 

He leaps up from the floor with a burst of speed that you’re sure is gonna bite him the ass the next day, but you can’t help but chuckle when he replaces the bag and starts making a list of all the soups that need to be restocked in your pantry. 

—

Save #2, a.k.a. Masquerade Mayhem

Diamond Technical University, despite its reputation for being a school bursting with STEM freaks, knew how to throw a damn good party. That’s about all you can think about as you arrive at the expansive plaza of Carat Central, the area of campus containing the recreation center, a food court, and the bookstore. Sparsely populated during the day except for your average gym-going college student, the plaza is now swarming with students, staff, and faculty from the school of health sciences for its annual masquerade gala. Scalloped banners of fabric hang from nearby balconies, string lights glow above you, and a jazz band is tucked in the far corner. Sparkles of every color imaginable bounce off the glittering masks of the gala’s guests and you swipe a simple black mask from the registration table as you enter the fray of people, scanning for your roommate in the crowd. Hansol had texted you ten minutes ago saying he’d checked in and was gonna swipe some snacks from the refreshments table, but he was almost impossible to find in the sea of suits and masks. Almost.

“A red and blue mask is a little on the nose, don’t you think?” You tease as you find him at a standing table with a plate of cheese, meat, and crackers. His face lights up behind the mask as you join him, his eyes not-so-subtly running over your body and the nicer outfit you’d donned for tonight. You push away the way your cheeks are heating under the scratchy paper mask.

“Only if you look too far into it,” your roommate replies with a smirk playing on his lips. “How was your exam?”

“A hot load of ass,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes and popping a cracker into your mouth. “At least a third of the questions were things that weren’t in the lectures or the readings.” Hansol frowns sympathetically.

“Did you at least pass?”

“We’ll see next Wednesday, though if I don’t you might have to avoid saying ‘adenosine triphosphate’ ever again within my presence,” you conclude as nonchalantly as you’re able. You gesture around vaguely at the people milling about and avoid the eyes of professors you would recognize from ten miles away. “For now, I’m counting on this to distract me from finals.” 

“You’ll be okay,” Hansol states confidently. “Sometimes you study until I come back from patrol at 4:00 in the morning. That’s not all for nothing.” 

“I’m glad one of us believes in me,” you sigh and shrug half-heartedly. 

“Have you asked your professors if patching up Spiderman counts as internship hours?” He asks so suddenly that you can’t help but laugh. 

“Our apartment doesn’t count as a hospital, so I never bothered,” you reply and he nods. 

“A shame. I bet you have more practice giving stitches than any student here,” asserts Hansol and you grimace. 

“Let’s not consider that a good thing, please,” you plead and he chuckles. “Shall we do our rounds?”

“Lead the way.” 

For the next couple of hours, you and Hansol move as a set as you make small talk with some classmates, wave to people from his biochemistry courses, and eavesdrop on internship opportunities opening up the following semester. At some point, your hand finds the crook of his elbow and stays there, and you try not to think about the muscles in his arm that flex every time you stray too far and he pulls you back toward him. The clock nears midnight and the party is approaching its end when the dean of the health sciences college taps the mic with a manicured finger. 

“It’s that time, everybody! Please remove your masks and reveal your identities to those around you!” She announces with a blinding smile and the people around you undo the ties of their masks. Hansol unties his and tosses it over his shoulder; it disappears somewhere on the floor and words become stuck in your throat at just how good he looks in the glow of the string lights. 

“Need some help?” He inquires when you just stand there, staring at him like an idiot. You stammer something that sounds like an assent and go nearly catatonic when he gently undoes the ribbon tying your mask behind your head. He pulls it off carefully and places it in your hands with a small smile, tying the ribbon around your wrist so you don’t lose it. “There. Now I can see you.”

“Aw, did you miss me?” You joke and you hope he can’t tell how your voice is shaking. 

“You know it.” 

“You talk a whole lot of rizz for getting no girls,” you scoff, even though those three words made something in your chest stop working for a second. 

“Who said I wanted ‘em?” You don’t reply and somehow drag Hansol onto the dance floor, your arms winding around his neck as naturally as breathing. He’s a little stiff while his hands find your waist until you brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead and he nearly melts. It’s all platonic, you convince yourself. Don’t think about the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in this room. 

“Something on your mind?” His soft voice pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Just exams,” you fib, even though he can most definitely sense the way your heart is rattling around in your ribcage. Hansol hums.

“Anything else you wanna talk about?”

“Anything you wanna know?” You counter with a sly smile.

“I always wanna know what’s going on in there,” he says, nodding toward the top of your head. “There’s a lot, but it intrigues me.”

“If you looked in my brain, it’d be like that one episode of Spongebob where everything’s on fire and there’s filing cabinets toppled over,” you inform him seriously and he snorts. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

You open your mouth to reply again but are interrupted by the sensation of the floor rumbling beneath your feet. The ground is humming. Hansol’s hands are immediately on your forearms to steady you as the world shifts over and over again. The shaking becomes more violent, so much so that a few guests around you trip onto the ground and you dash to help the people nearest to you. Hansol’s hand remains on your back as you do so, his head snapping side to side to locate the source of the disturbance. As you steady a classmate you recognize from one of your ethics classes, an explosion of concrete blasts into the air with a sound that leaves your ears ringing. Something has collided with the welcome building of Carat Central a few yards away and sent debris flying in all directions. Your body automatically wraps around the person to shield them from oncoming pieces of concrete, and your breath catches when you register that Hansol is shielding you the same way. The person you helped darts away and Hansol’s grip is firm as he yanks you away from the stampede of people, all while the dean is screaming on the microphone for people to remain calm and evacuate the area. 

“What the hell is happening?” You shout over the chaos once Hansol corrals you into the corner of a nearby walkway. Panicked guests knock his shoulders and run into his back, but the way his body cages yours against the corner protects you as they pass. 

“I don’t know!” He yells back. “I heard someone say a professor’s turned into a lizard!” You gape at him, not sure if you understood correctly.

“A what?” 

“A giant-ass lizard! Experiment gone wrong, or something!” Hansol replies, looking severely conflicted. He looks at the gargantuan green reptile emerging from the dust of the ruined building, back at you, then back at the monster that might be one of your professors. “I need to–”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, your voice straining to be loud enough over the screaming. “Go be a hero!” He spins around to leave, but you catch his wrist at the last second. Untying the black masquerade mask that had been on your wrist, you secure the knot behind Hansol’s head and effectively hide his identity. “Please don’t die!” 

“I’m not planning on it!” Hansol lingers for barely a second longer as the giant reptilian continues its warpath across the plaza, eyes searching yours. In a moment so quick you think you imagined it, his lips lean forward to brush your forehead and shoot electricity down your entire body. You freeze and watch as he disappears into the dust, webs shooting from his wrist and sending him flying toward the danger. 

Your feet remain rooted in place for what feels like forever until someone grabs your arm and ushers you behind a police brigade that has been set up just outside the plaza. Dodging EMTs and trying your best not to look back at however Hansol is faring, you collapse onto the couch of your apartment several minutes later, feet aching and heart still racing. After kicking off your shoes, anxiously grabbing the first aid kit, and pacing until there’s surely a path worn into your floorboards, you wait on the fire escape for him to come back. 

You’re stuck in a worried spiral with your legs swinging off the edge of the escape when the tell-tale thwip of webs finally reaches your building. 

“Holy shit, you’re okay,” you breathe when he lands on the creaking metal platform. There’s countless tears and rips in his suit, scuffs on his shoes, and a cut on his left cheek, but he’s not bleeding out or in need of a hospital. You don’t bother rushing him into the apartment immediately; your arms are around his neck and pulling him close before either of you can think much of it. His breathing is heavy and there’s a slight tremble to his hands from excess adrenaline, but he makes no effort to let go until you pull away and tug off the black mask that you’d given him before you were separated. Your thumb runs over the angry red scratch and his throat bobs as he swallows. “Is the professor…?”

“He’s alive,” Hansol answers and you exhale in relief. “Some of his students raided his lab and found the antidote gas, so all I needed to do was stall and then make him sniff it.” 

“Did anyone see your face?” He shakes his head.

“They didn’t, thanks to you. I was about to rush in there with no plan, no suit, and no mask.” The corner of your mouth turns down.

“Yeah, you’ve had better ideas,” you remark.

“I wasn’t thinking about Spiderman, just keeping you safe,” he reveals and your heart stutters again. “I guess thinking about you makes me a little stupid.”

“Well, I hope you don’t do it too often,” you conclude, turning and pushing open the window before you start thinking too hard about how tightly he held your hips. He follows you into the apartment after some delay, and mutters something under his breath that you think you might have hallucinated.

“Too late.”

—

Save #3, a.k.a. The Power of Persuasion (And Eavesdropping on Private Conversations) 

You didn’t intend to eavesdrop, not really. 

You were truly in the right place at the right time, or wrong place and wrong time depending on who you ask. As if final exam week couldn’t get any worse, the restroom located next to your classroom is under maintenance, meaning you had approximately five minutes to haul ass to the second floor bathroom, haul ass back to your classroom, hope that it’s still unlocked and your professor didn’t start on time, and mentally prepare yourself for what might be the worst test in your academic career…on top of waiting for a certain web-slinging hero to bring you your calculator. It should have been a blessing in disguise that Hansol was also in the class with you; he’s brought you stuff you’ve forgotten several times since he’s usually getting a few winks of sleep by the time you leave for campus. But now, he’s nowhere to be found five minutes before exam time, you’re calculator-less, and you need to pee so badly that your legs are shaking. What a great day to be you.

“Deborah, listen to me! It’s possible to have two soulmates, and therefore it wasn’t cheating!” You stop in your tracks as you exit the restroom, your ears picking up on a voice that sounds suspiciously like your professor that should already be in the classroom. Ducking quietly behind a vending machine, you continue to listen as your professor rants to whoever was on the phone. “No, you need to stop being in your head about this. I was involved with Debra–yes, the other woman’s name is also Debra but with a different spelling–because I believed you two would get along well. You’re the one who’s always going on about opening up the relationship.” Your jaw is hanging open while your professor tries to convince his wife that a divorce lawyer is not needed and that a family counselor (including the other Debra) was what they should get. The conversation drops to a level that has you craning your neck to hear while also staying hidden, and you nearly jump out of your skin when a message from Hansol buzzes on your phone.

| CONTACT ID: hansol ✌️|

[9:59 A.M.]

DID HE DTART YET IM RUNNING OVER MY ALARM DIDNTGO OFF I COULDNT FIND YUOR CALCUALTOR WHY DID YOU PUT IT IN THE FRIDGE

[10:00 A.M.]

DUCK STALL FO RME PLS PLS PLS I NEED TEN MINKS MINS

You nearly reveal your position from giggling at the prospect of your roommate being in dire need of ten ferret-like animals, but quickly remember the seriousness of the situation if you didn’t get your calculator and Hansol was locked out of the classroom for being late. Following your professor’s footsteps as he stomps down the stairs and towards the classroom, you slip into the room behind him and wedge a pencil in between the doors in the event that they lock on their own upon closing. The room is eerily silent save for some nervous coughs and the rustling of bags as everyone tucks away their phones and pulls out their pencils. Your professor, however, looks like he would rather be anywhere but there while you settle into your usual seat and stick your bag on the seat adjacent to you for Hansol. 

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” mumbles the student on your other side, Dez, who had a knack for getting the professor riled up and yapping for an ungodly portion of class time. “What do you think made him all grumpy today?” You bite your tongue and shrug, checking the clock and the classroom doors every few seconds to see if Hansol made it in. 

“I don’t know, but he seems pretty pissed,” you add. “More pissed than when you had him on a tangent about the reliability of government that one time before break.” Dez smirks at the memory. 

“How long did he go on for, again?”

“42 minutes and 39 seconds exactly,” you recount and he nods like a grandfather remembering his youth while sitting in a rocking chair. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Dez asks, pointing over at the empty chair on your other side. You shoot him a look.

“He’s my roommate, not my boyfriend.” He shrugs. 

“Yet.” 

“Don’t get me started, Dez,” you warn and he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Sorry, professor. Didn’t mean to get you all prickly,” he apologizes and an evil idea occurs to you while you take in your professor at the front of the room still furiously texting on his phone, even though the exam should have started three minutes ago. You need to buy yourself and Hansol time, so you throw caution to the wind and drop your voice to a conspiratory volume.

“Say, Dez,” you assert. “You’re familiar with the, uh, specialty herb trade here on campus, right?” He thinks for a moment, his mouth gaping open like a fish, and then the realization of what you’re referring to hits him like lightning.

“No way,” he gasps. “Are you looking to buy?”

“No, not me. I’m just wondering how prices have been looking since campus police have been cracking down on dealers,” you hastily explain and he purses his lips in thought.

“Now that you say that, prices have been going up lately. Like, for example, I’ve got a guy that experiments with adding basil and rosemary to his shit, and–” You wave your hands and cut him off.

“Dez, I don’t care. The market is a shitshow, is it not?”

“The shittiest show,” he confirms gravely. 

“Great,” you say. “30 dollars if you ask our professor what he thinks about soulmates. Or open relationships. Or both. Actually, 50 if you do both.” If all goes right, it should be enough time for Hansol to get his ass over here. Dez’s eyes go as wide as bowling balls and he grabs your hand to shake it aggressively. You would be down some dollars, but at least you could literally buy time. As your professor finally puts down his phone and steels himself to address the class, Dez’s hand shoots up. 

“Professor!” He yells loud enough to make you cringe. At least a hundred eyes in the busy lecture hall turn toward you at once and you’re grateful that Dez has no sense of social anxiety. The professor at the front of the room sighs tiredly.

“Yes, Dez?”

“Do you think it’s possible for someone to have multiple soulmates, or does one person just get left out in open relationships?” You know your gamble has paid off when your professor completely dismisses the proctors of the exam and then begins recounting the entire history of his relationship with Deborah #1, his run-in with Debra #2, and the subsequent issues that followed with both women. By the time Hansol has finally dropped into his seat and slid your calculator over the desk, you’ve long realized that your bet has worked a little too well, as now he’s been talking for the last twenty minutes and shows no sign of stopping. “Do you have a preferred payment method?” Dez whispers. “I take Venmo, Cashapp, and cuts of beef. I also have payment plans. Here’s a QR code.” He procures a screenshot and you scan it, still partially in shock that this even worked.

“What’s the stoner on about?” Hansol murmurs to you as he watches you type in $50 on your phone. 

“Just send me $25 when you get the chance,” you request and he nods unsurely. 

“Do I even wanna know?” 

“Probably not. Just don’t ever ask the professor what he thinks about open relationships.”

“I see,” Hansol says even though you know he’s far from understanding what’s going on. “Fifteen more minutes and it’ll be far past the time he can give us on the exam, so we won’t take it. If he’s still talking after fifteen minutes, wanna go grab breakfast?”

“I could fuck up a waffle right now,” you muse. “Are you paying?” 

“I’ll pay for $25 worth of your food, if that’s an equal transaction.” Dez leans his head into your conversation.

“That’s like, totally a filet mignon amount. You should take the deal,” he advises. You stare at him for a long moment until he stares back longer and it unnerves you.

“Thanks Dez, I’ll take that into account.” Dez gasps like you’d just told him he was pregnant.

“Yo, are you guys going on a date? I’ve got some recommendations if you want them.” Hansol blinks at him and tries to hide his grin.

“We’re good, man, but thanks for letting us know.”

“Of course, dude. You and your sweetheart are so cute,” Dez gushes and you keep your eyes trained on the professor, though you see Hansol has gone stiff from the corner of your peripheral vision. “And hey, if you ever wanna get some good stuff, just let me know, ‘kay?”

“Sounds good, Dez,” you smile. “Enjoy the $50.” 

—

Save #3, a.k.a. The Amazing Spider-Seamstress

If Hell ever froze over, you imagine it would look something like winter in New York. You’ve been running the heater in your apartment for so long that your nose is starting to feel dry, and stepping outside is like walking naked into the world’s largest Costco refrigerator. Your roommate isn’t faring much better, coming home with chattering teeth and skin that is nearly the color of the frozen lake a few blocks down from your apartment. After a heated metaphorical debate about whether spiders hibernate during winter (because why go out on patrol when it’s too cold to commit crime anyway?), you’d come to the conclusion that Hansol needed layers if he was going to survive swinging through winds that were frigid enough to leave icicles hanging from his webs. 

Hansol, by virtue of being Hansol, was rather lazy at his first attempt of saving the city in warmer clothes. The week after your argument about him freezing to death in his regular Spiderman suit, you’d watched him cross the living room in his suit and throw a jacket over himself as he ducked out onto the fire escape. As you’d predicted, he came back with a torso nice and warm, but legs that each needed heat packs. The next night, he wore a jacket and sweatpants, and then lamented that his ears and his toes were going to freeze and fall off. When Friday came and you were watching the same routine from the dining room table, Hansol looked less like Spiderman and more like one of the burglars from Home Alone. He arrived back at the apartment a few hours later with snow heaped on his clothes, a hole in his beanie, and missing one of his boots. 

That’s when you decided to intervene. 

“What’re you doing?” He asks as you lay out his suit on the kitchen table and examine it with all the precision of a neurosurgeon. 

“If you freeze to death, no one’s gonna be covering half my rent,” you decide, disappearing into your room and bringing back a stack of fabrics you’d picked up after your classes. “So, I would like permission to insulate your suit.” 

“You don’t need to do that; I’ll just keep using the thermal layers,” he reasons, running his fingers over the red and blue fleece. “They’re scratchy, but they work.”

“You hate those because they make your suit not feel like skin,” you remind him. “Granted, this won’t feel like skin either, but at least it’s one less layer you need to have. Easier to swing, too. See?” You grab a corner of fabric and stretch it. “It’ll move with you. It’s not perfect, but it’s warm.”  

“This is pretty soft,” he agrees. “It’s like I’m a sheep.”

“You’d be warmer than a sheep, at least for the areas that you said get the coldest. I’m not gonna put fleece around where your joints are, since those are gonna need the most flexibility.” His eyes follow your finger as you trace on the suit where you would install the fleece panels–wrapping around his arms and legs, his chest, and his neck, specifically. Hansol looks at you so softly that you forget just how close you are together, hunched over the kitchen table.

“You’d really do this for me?”

“Of course,” you confirm. “Plus, didn’t you say you’ve been wanting to design a winter version and a summer version of your suits? Let this be the winter one so you don’t freeze to death.” 

“Okay, I trust you. I didn’t know you knew how to sew,” he remarks and you bite your lip. 

“I know how to stitch. Everything else, I was gonna figure out as I go,” you admit sheepishly and you thank the heavens that you have a chill roommate, because he just shrugs and gives you an encouraging pat on the back. 

“You got it. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this job.”

“Well, yeah. That would require someone else to know your identity,” you point out and grin at his pout. 

“Can’t you just let me compliment you?” He pokes his finger into your side and you yelp, pushing him away with a laugh. 

“Fine, I surrender! Now go away and let me work,” you dismiss and drop into the dining room chair. 

Turns out, sewing pieces of fleece into the inside of Hansol’s suit is easier than you thought, but takes forever to stitch by hand. On top of that, you’re trying to make sure your stitches are as secure as possible and in a straight line, if you can help it. It’s well past midnight by the time you finally finish tying off the last knot. Hansol has been quietly loitering for the past hour, watching you work and taking cat naps to the sound of your humming in lieu of being on patrol. 

“Done?”

“Done,” you beam, holding up the finished suit that, to your delight, looks exactly the same. “I also stitched up a few tears and rips you had in it, just while I was in the area.” He leans over the back of your chair, his chin close enough to brush your temple, and you hope he can’t tell how much your breathing has picked up. 

“You sure you actually did something to it? It looks like nothing’s there,” he comments, gently taking the suit from you and feeling around the newly insulated areas. “Oh. There it is.”

“Exactly. It should keep you a little warmer while still feeling the same as before,” you explain proudly. “Now, you don’t need to wear itchy thermals or bundle up like you’re braving a snowstorm.”

“Can I go take it for a test run?” You shrug.

“It’s your suit. Do what you want with it as long as you don’t die.” He whoops in excitement and runs into his room, reappearing a few minutes later smoothing over his arms in awe. 

“This feels amazing,” he exclaims. “It’s like I’m a sheep, but also have blubber. So like a whale-sheep. Sheep-whale. Shale.”

“Perhaps a Whasheep?” You contribute, smiling. 

“A whasheep,” he agrees. He stretches in the suit and does a backflip for good measure. “Feels great. I can flip so easily in this.” His legs bend in preparation to fly backward again, but you stop him with a noise of concern. 

“I’m happy you’re happy, but I don’t think our downstairs neighbors will be enthused if you keep doing gymnastics over their living room,” you reason and he flinches with embarrassment. 

“Right, right. I’m gonna go take it for a test run, then. Want anything from the store?”

“Hot chocolate mix, if you can,” you request, though you’re covering your mouth with a yawn.

“Dark?”

“You know it.”

“Be right back, then. I won’t be long.” True to his word, Hansol is back less than fifteen minutes later, but you’ve already migrated to the couch and curled up against the cushions, fast asleep. Something in his chest warms seeing that you’ve used the spare fleece as a scrappy blanket, not wanting to bother getting one from the closet. You barely stir as he grabs a throw blanket for you and replaces the scrap fabric with it, ultimately deciding to just scoop you up and carry you to your room. You hum contentedly during the few seconds it takes to transfer you from the couch to your bed, pulling the blanket closer as soon as you’re on the mattress. 

When you murmur a sleepy love you, Hansol as he’s shutting your door, it takes him an hour to stop his heart from racing. 

—

Save #5, a.k.a. The Therapeutic Properties of Cable TV

Hansol has been off for the past week. He won’t look you in the eye, he won’t answer you in more than two-word sentences, he’s been eating dinner in his room, and he’s disappeared after his classes when he usually comes straight home. You know you shouldn’t feel so affected–he might just be feeling under the weather, after all–but it’s still causing a significant disturbance to your routine. Eating dinner alone feels extra empty. Watching TV feels extra boring. Studying might as well be pointless if he’s not beside you muttering chemical formulas under his breath. 

It finally reaches a breaking point when you’re awake and staring at the ceiling one night, unable to sleep. You’re awake long enough that you hear Hansol come back from patrol, close the door to his room, and open it again. You sit up and strain your ears, barely catching the sound of him creeping around the kitchen and the microwave beeping. The clock reads almost 3:00 in the morning; he should be dead asleep by now. Part of you wants to mind your own business and let him be, but the better part of you wins over and drags you out of bed and into the living room. When you settle wordlessly on the other side of the couch, wrapped in your blanket, you don’t immediately look at Hansol. Instead, you look at the steaming cup of instant ramen that he hasn’t touched, the TV remote’s faded buttons, and the piercingly bright cartoon show that’s playing at an imperceptible volume. An entire twenty-minute episode comes and goes without a word from either of you, and your eyelids are becoming heavy. 

He notices.

“You should sleep,” he says so quietly that you almost don’t hear him. 

“So should you,” you counter. He tenses.

“I don’t need it.” 

“You say that to a nurse. Smart,” you deadpan and eye him skeptically. “You don’t need it, or you don’t want it?” His silence and clenched jaw tells you all you need to know. “If I did something to upset you, I want to know so I can apologize.” His attention snaps to you and he shakes his head with more emotion than you’ve seen from him for the past six days. 

“What? No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You’ve been avoiding me this entire week,” you insist. “That can’t be without reason.” 

“I’m just tired,” he dodges and you see through it like glass. 

“If you’re tired, you should be sleeping.”

“I’m fine. Can you drop it?” He snaps and your stomach sinks. 

“Yeah. Sorry. Let me know if you want me to leave.”

“Do what you want. It’s your apartment,” is his cold reply and you tuck yourself even further into the corner. Your nose burns as your eyes start to water, but you force yourself to remain stoic. He’d never talked to you that way before and it made something in you unreasonably sad. After another episode and fighting the urge to cry, he sighs and turns TV off, scooting closer to you for the first time in days. “I’m sorry. That was mean.” 

“Yeah, it was,” you whisper, staring at your knees tucked under the blanket. You swallow and meet his eyes like one wrong look would blow up the entire building. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. It isn’t fair, and I don’t want to make you sad.” The urge to cry comes back like a crashing wave.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” You manage to say. “I’m worried about you.”

“Nightmares. Every night of last week,” he reveals. “I relive all the mistakes I’ve made since becoming Spiderman. The most recent one, there was a situation where I couldn’t save everyone.” He exhales shakily and you reach to cover his hand with yours. “I couldn’t look you in the eyes for days because all I felt was guilt, even though it was all in my head. I couldn’t save you.”

“Oh.” You don’t realize you’re crying until Hansol makes a noise of alarm and brushes aside the tears that have started running down your cheeks. 

“Wait, no–don’t–why are you…?”

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” you attempt to laugh, which sounds more like a sob. “I guess I was so worried about you and all this time, it’s because of me…or I guess not me. Dream-me.” 

“Dream-you scared the shit out of me.”

“And you didn’t tell me any of this?” Hansol shakes his head.

“It wasn’t your problem to solve.” 

“And so your solution was losing sleep and watching Spongebob until you were exhausted?” You ask incredulously through your blurry vision. “You are an idiot.” 

“I know,” he acknowledges. “I know I’m an idiot. And I know I should have told you, but I guess I thought watching Spongebob would fix my issues. Therapeutic properties, you know?”

“No, you idiot. I don’t know,” you disagree. “You should be sleeping. We should be talking.” You squeeze his hand like you’re begging him to stay. “I am not going to walk out on you, no matter what shit you throw at me. I’m not leaving. Period.” Hansol’s gaze softens and his eyes are enough to make you turn to jelly. “Please don’t shut me out again.” 

“I won’t.”

“Promise me?” 

“I–I promise,” he vows after a fleeting moment of hesitation. He looks like he’s on the verge of saying one more thing, but shuts his mouth decisively and you nod. 

“Good. Now, I’m gonna make my own cup of ramen and we’re gonna watch one more episode. Then we’re both gonna sleep, and you’re going to wake me up and talk to me if you have another nightmare.” 

You end up stuck on the couch for more than one episode, primarily because you and Hansol somehow get close enough that you can rest your head on his shoulder and he can rest his head on yours. Somewhere between the third and fourth episodes, you drift off to the smell of his laundry detergent and instant ramen powder, along with the sensation of his arm securing you against his side. With you so close, for the first time in a while, Hansol isn’t afraid of letting sleep take him.

—

+1, a.k.a. The Breaking Point 

“I’m going to fail and this is going to be my last semester before I go broke and disappear,” you lament, your forehead hitting the wooden table with a thud. You can hear Hansol trying to stifle his laugh from beside you. 

“You’re overreacting,” he snorts. “I don’t say that about a lot of things, but this time you are.” 

“Hansol, I don’t get it,” you try to emphasize. “I cannot understand calculus, therefore I can’t be a nurse, therefore I might as well just sign up to be jobless for the rest of my life.” 

“And you call me a drama queen?” 

“Alright, Almighty Math Biochemistry Lord,” you scoff. “You tell me how to find the solution to this.” 

“It’s easy. The best way to figure out a problem is to get rid of a variable.” 

“Is it that simple?” He shrugs. 

“Most things are, when you think about it.” 

“Get rid of a variable,” you echo thoughtfully, picking up your pencil again and hunching over your scratch paper. 

“Now you’ve got it. It’s how I solve my problems all the time.”

“And what if there’s a variable you didn’t account for?” He pauses, his eyebrows pinching in thought.

“I try to get rid of it and simplify the problem.”

“Huh, maybe I should try that.”

“You should,” Hansol agrees. “It’ll make you stop worrying about things you can’t control.”

“Alright, shut up and let me work,” you laugh.

You’ve never been particularly afraid of heights, but that will definitely be changing if you live to see tomorrow. 

Rough rope rubs against your wrists from where you’re tied to a segment of a massive tower crane stretching over a new skyscraper development on the other side of the city. Below you is nothing but a void of open air, and at the bottom lies the streets of New York that, from this perspective, look no larger than ant trails. Your body wants to scream, but the air whipping around you prevents you from taking a full breath. How you ended up here in the first place is foggy; you vaguely remember walking back to the apartment after your last evening class, and then the next thing you know, your entire vision goes black. Pain blooms at the back of your skull, so you must have been hit with something hard enough to knock you out. 

A blur of movement below you draws your eye and your mouth goes dry as the glider of the Green Goblin hovers to a stop in front of you, close enough that you can see your reflection in the villain’s mask. 

“Brave little roomie, aren’t you? Covering for the Spiderman, patching up the Spiderman,” he taunts melodically and you glare with as much loathing as you can, even as your knees are threatening to give out from fear. “Now you’ve evolved. You’re not only a friend of the Spiderman…you’re bait for him, as well.” 

“What’re you gonna do? Kill him?” You hiss. 

“No dear, you’re our V.I.P. for tonight, so you get first priority. Only then will it be our good friend Hansol’s turn.” 

“Why bring me all the way up here? Why draw him to a place where no one would see you kill him, even if you did manage to win?” Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a single white string connecting two of the nearby buildings, then disappear. Another, carefully in the Goblin’s blindspot, then another, and another until you’re sure that Hansol is hiding behind the building next to you. “You’re never going to beat him,” you stall as your heart rate steadily increases. 

“I’m entertained that you believe that. Unfortunately, we both know that he would never let you get hurt, and that is what will be his ultimate downfall. I’d advise against resisting.” He hops down from the glider and a scream tears itself from your throat as he cuts the ropes around your wrists and shoves you forward, toward the edge of the crane’s catwalk. Your feet slip and slide on the damp, rusty metal in an attempt to slow your approach to the end, but it’s no use. The Goblin has an iron grip on your arms and ends up dragging you the rest of the way, spinning you so that both your backs are facing the free fall. You’re stuck in a position where any attempt to throw him off would inevitably tug you with him, so you have no choice but to go deathly still as terror sets deep in your bones. 

Seconds later, you recognize the silhouette of Hansol’s suit drop down onto the catwalk and feel your heart nearly stop as it wobbles from his landing. He looks menacing in the dim light of the top of the crane, shadows stretching from his limbs and tracing the rigid structure of his muscles. He takes no steps forward and you can’t see his face under the mask, but his body language is eerily calm–no, calculating–for someone who needed to save their roommate from falling several hundred feet from the sky. 

“Let them go, Osborn. Your fight is with me,” he says. 

“No can do, Mister Chwe,” the Goblin replies. “You’ve made a crucial mistake that needs correction, and I am burdened with fixing it.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“Falling in love.” Your stomach flips. Hansol stretches his neck to the side and you almost laugh. I’m about to get thrown off a crane by a maniac, and you’re stretching? “A pitfall so many follow. Fortunately, I will take the responsibility off your shoulders.” The Goblin leans backward and you stumble after him with a panicked shout. Hansol takes a few steps forward and stops just short of reaching you. 

“Stop!” He yells, extending his arm as if to stop you. “Just let them go. Then you can fight me however you want.”

“Hmm! No, I won’t,” the villain decides with childlike glee. “I’ve come up with a better idea.” You cry out again as you find yourself suddenly suspended over the void below, held by nothing but Norman Osborn’s grip on the collar of your shirt. Your hands instinctively grab the Goblin’s wrist to steady yourself as you dangle there, helpless. 

“Let them go, Osborn,” Hansol seethes, but he isn’t listening. “I’m not asking again.” 

“I’ll give you a choice. You can either attempt to capture me, or save your little love from becoming a pancake.” Dread fills your body as you realize why Hansol is being so careful. His decision not to swing around and outmaneuver the Goblin like he usually does is purposeful. One wrong move, and you’re dead and his enemy is fleeing into the night. You know Hansol, and you know he’s devised at least a dozen ways he could defeat the Green Goblin in any situation. What he didn’t account for was keeping you alive. “What do you choose, Mister Chwe?” 

“Hansol,” you interject before he can reply. An idea has flickered to life in the back of your mind. It might be radically stupid, but radical was what you needed right now. “Remember what you said about simplifying a calculus problem?” You can’t see his face under his mask, but you know by the way his body language shifts that he knows exactly the moment at the dining table that you’re talking about. Get rid of a variable. “I trust you.” He nods once, slow enough for Osborn to miss. “I…I love you.” 

Then, you’re tearing yourself out of the Green Goblin’s hold and plummeting into the darkness. 

Freezing air rushes past you as you freefall toward the streets below, spinning you in all different directions until you can’t tell where you’re facing or how far you still have to fall. Explosions rattle the crane above you and illuminate the clouds in fire as you keep falling down, down, down, and you have no time to think about Hansol not reaching you on time because you’re preoccupied hyperventilating and tumbling every which way. Another set of explosions rock the sky and the world comes into focus again as your body rotates and you see the ground fast approaching. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for an impact that never comes, because you’re pulled suffocatingly close to someone as you continue streaming through the air at a much more controlled velocity. 

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Hansol whispers next to your ear and you wrap yourself around his body as he swings you away from the burning crane and the approaching cop cars and firetrucks. If he’s hindered by how tightly you’re holding onto him, your eyes still shut tight in the hollow of his neck, he doesn’t comment. 

You land on something that feels suspiciously like the fire escape to your apartment but still can’t find the courage to let go, not that it matters as he carefully cradles your head and gets you both through the window and into the living room of your apartment. Your feet don’t touch the ground, rather Hansol scoops you up and sits you both gently on the couch with your hands still around his neck and your legs across his lap. He tears off his mask and takes a deep breath, wrapping his arms around your torso to hold you. Neither of you move for a long while until your breathing has evened out and you finally start to feel aware of your surroundings again and not just him. 

“Thank you for coming for me,” you whisper. 

“Of course.”

“Did you get him?”

“Of course.”

“Are you overthinking that you should leave me because you put me in danger?”

“You know me so well,” he confirms dryly. “Or did you want me to say ‘of course’ one more time to be funny?” A smile ghosts your lips. 

“You know, your overthinking’s not going to work,” you declare. 

“Hmm? Why not?” His cheek squishes against the top of your head, making the dull pain at the back feel a little less sharp.

“Because I told you that I love you, so now you can’t get rid of me,” you state, craning your neck to look at him. 

“You just got kidnapped because of me and you still want to stick around,” Hansol summarizes in disbelief, but you catch the way his ears are becoming redder. 

“That depends on if what the Goblin said was true. That you fell in love with me.” He quiets and licks his lips, his eyes flitting to yours and then looking away. “Is it true? Are you in love with me, Chwe Hansol?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Hmm, I’m not sure how I want to answer,” he begins cryptically and you frown. “Do you have a good aim when throwing empty soup cans?” 

“What? I–I think I do?” 

“What about masquerade masks? Do you keep an extra in your room in case a certain superhero ever needs it again?” Your puzzlement increases.

“How do you know I still have that?” He ignores your question and adds more riddles.

“Or, let’s see…Is Dez going to be a stoner for the rest of his life?” 

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you attest immediately and things begin to click in your head. “Yes. The answer to all those questions is yes.” Hansol’s eyes sparkle as he continues. 

“Was it a bad idea for me to go out in nothing but my Spidersuit and sweatpants in below zero weather?” 

“Most definitely,” you quip. 

“Are the old episodes of Spongebob better than whatever new stuff they’re putting out?”

“Is that even a question?” You fire back with a grin growing on your face so wide that your cheeks hurt. 

“Then you have the answer to your original query,” he concludes, his hand cupping the side of your face. You might be crying again, but you don’t care. 

“You’re in love with me?” 

“I am so in love with you,” Hansol smiles. “And I won’t ask you to leave, even though I know it won’t ever be safe with me.”

“I don’t care if it’s safe. I just want you,” you promise. He leans in close enough to brush your nose with his, playfully nudging your forehead.

“Can I kiss you now?” 

“Are you Spiderman?” You ask in turn. “And the love of my life?” He laughs and ducks forward, muttering his answer against your lips. 

“Hell yeah, I am.”

— 

The Central Park cherry blossoms are officially in bloom, and Hansol has made it his mission to take you on a date there in the most romantic-comedy way possible. 

“Was the picnic basket really necessary?” You laugh, swinging your arms as he takes your free hand in his while the other holds a wicker basket that you’re pretty sure he stole from one of your Pinterest boards. “I mean, the red checkered blanket is already overkill, but–”

“We’re eating tteokbboki and gimbap instead of crustless sandwiches and chips,” he interrupts. “I hope that’s unique enough.” 

“I’m just saying, we could’ve used the insulated bag we have at home, and the blanket we have…at home,” you add. 

“But then where’s the magic?” Hansol whines, picking a spot he deems suitable and laying out the red gingham blanket that he bought off Amazon last week. You settle down beside him and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“It’s right here,” you reply, gesturing to the perfect view of the pink flowering trees before you. “Can’t get much more magical than this, can it?” You pull out the containers of food and eagerly break apart your chopsticks, but before you can take a bite, a shimmering noise behind you draws your attention. Hansol, already two bites deep, turns with his mouth still full. You groan, recognizing the source of the orange portal that sparks magical particles like burning coals. “I wasn’t being literal when I said it couldn’t get more magical,” you grumble. 

“I apologize for interrupting your date, but the Spiderman is needed,” says the Sorcerer Supreme that has crashed your day with your boyfriend. Xu Minghao, though you’d only met him on a few occasions, intimidated you in a way only the most powerful magical being on the planet could. Wrapped in a red robe with a mind of its own and the Eye of Agamotto hanging threateningly around his neck, he looks like he’d either give you a quest or turn you into a rat. Hansol frowns, looking at you, then his plate full of food, then back at the sorcerer. 

“It can’t wait?” 

“The fate of the world as we know it is at stake, Hansol. I would hope you’d take this more seriously,” Minghao remarks, though you catch him eyeing the food hungrily. “Is that gimbap?”

“It is,” you answer before your boyfriend can. “Two gimbap for you and a healthy serving of tteokbboki if you let us finish our plates before whisking him away.” Minghao narrows his eyes.

“Four,” he debates.

“Three,” you shoot back.

“Fine,” the Sorcerer Supreme agrees. In the distance from wherever he’s portaling, a loud boom sounds. He exhales, exasperated, and points an accusatory finger at both of you. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“Thirty,” Hansol attempts and Minghao shoots him a look.

“Fifteen,” he decreases and your boyfriend surrenders, returning his attention to his food. “Good. See you in twenty, Spiderman.” The portal closes with a whoosh and Hansol turns to you in astonishment. 

“I can’t believe you just bargained with Xu Minghao.” You shrug, leaning close to his side. 

“No big deal,” you reassure him, living in the moment as much as you can before he’s taken away to save the world. “I’ve definitely had to save you from worse before.” 

“You have, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

‘oh, yeah i did. it’s in that drawer.’ he stated, motioning over to the place he just mentioned. you took a look in that direction, then back at him. 

the aforementioned drawer in which the mixer was currently situated was the one just conveniently out of your reach. 

yudai saw your disappointed face and couldn’t hold in his laugh, almost as if it was the funniest thing he had ever done — all meanwhile you stood there, surprised at how an almost thirty year old man could still pull pranks as stupid as this one.

‘will you get it down for me now that you’ve executed your brilliant prank?’ you mumbled, arms crossed over your chest as you stared up at him.

‘hm’ he hummed, seemingly deep in thought for a few long seconds. ‘i might need a kiss or two to convince me.’

you sighed but went for it anyway — leaning closer to your boyfriend, feeling his hand sneak to your waist as you gave him two quick pecks, both on the lips. but that didn’t seem satisfactory to yudai, the man shaking his head. 

‘i think i require a few more. maybe five will do?’ he said, voice laced with humour as he stared down at you.

‘you’re impossible.’ you mumbled.

‘and yet you love me.’

this time it was him who leaned closer, giving you better access to his lips in the process. you closed the gap swiftly, counting each kiss in your head. upon the fifth one, right as you were about to pull away, yudai deepened the kiss — doing so with practiced ease, hand pulling your body closer to his. 

normally, you wouldn’t have fallen for his antics. but this time, you decided to humour him — your large sized boyfriend with the heart of a kid. 

MURATA FUMA <𝟑 .ᐟ

with each passing second, you were growing more and more frustrated with murata fuma’s existence. or, to be more precise, with his ability to be good at everything.

especially video games.

the two of you were sitting on the carpet, backs resting against the sofa, controllers in hand as you both stared at the tv screen, trying your best to pass the level you were currently at. problem was, this game was supposed to be played by two people — which meant joint efforts, needing both players to do their parts to pass. and you were not having a particularly good day. 

‘why is this game so fucking hard?’ you mumbled to yourself, fingers swiftly moving from the buttons to the thumbsticks as you tried hard to help fuma defeat the boss you were currently fighting. both of your characters had different tasks to do for it to be possible — it just so seemed your character’s task was that much harder. 

‘we can switch controllers, love.’ fuma’s voice was soft and melodic as he spoke, gaze switching from the tv to your frame for a second. ‘i have the easier task, maybe that’ll help us get through this one, hm?’

but your pride wouldn’t let you — so you shook your head in response, your grip on the controller just a tad bit tighter, posture suddenly straightened as you focused on the tv even more. and yet time after time, try after try, you just couldn’t get it right. so, with frustration filling your chest, you tossed your controller towards fuma. 

he gave you a warm smile before taking it in his hands, offering you his own instead, your fingers brushing against his as he handed it to you. the two of you locked back in almost immediately — wanting to get this boss fight over with once and for all. 

murata fuma, perfect at everything he ever touched, did the task you’ve struggled with for the past hour on his first try. and suddenly you didn’t want to play anymore. 

the screen went black, the game switching into a cutscene and your boyfriend immediately sensed your dissatisfaction. he shifted closer to you, putting the controller down on the floor, his hands reaching out to envelop you in his arms. you let him — feeling the smell of his cologne taking over your senses, his touch warm and comforting in this moment of frustration.

‘you still did amazing.’ he murmured, face nuzzled in your hair. ‘i’m proud of all your efforts, whether they brought in results or not.’

‘you could’ve left that last bit out, fuu.’ you said, looking at him with a frown on your face. fuma chuckled, leaning in to kiss you on the nose.

‘forgive me, my love.’ he mumbled. ‘just wanted to see that cute frown of yours.’

BYUN EUIJOO <𝟑 .ᐟ

‘do you have to copy me?’

euijoo, who currently sat across from you, only chuckled at your words — the paintbrush laying careful strokes on the ceramic, trying his best to make the design he envisioned in his head look as good as possible. he broke his focus for a second and looked your way, a smile forming on your face as he noticed your focused expression, eyes fixated on the mug you were currently painting. 

‘i’m not. you’re painting fish and i’m painting an octopus.’ he stated simply, eyes falling back down to his creation. ‘i’m afraid they’re completely different creatures, my love.’

‘they’re both sea creatures.’ you murmured, more so to yourself than to him, a sulky expression on your face as you continued painting. ‘you copied my terrain. copycat.’

‘it is actually quite a common theme when painting on ceramic.’ euijoo’s voice was still as calm as ever, hands working with precision. ‘even in that video we took the idea from, the lady was painting a dolphin. so, come to think of it, it is actually you who copied her first.’

normally, you would’ve ignored his comment and continued painting, or maybe hit him with a snide remark, continuing the banter between you and your boyfriend. this time, however, you decided to take a different approach.

you dipped your paintbrush in the blue paint prepared beforehand as the base of your drawing — then reached out to smear it all over euijoo’s cheek, a cold sensation against his skin. he looked up at you with surprise in his eyes, his expression quickly changing as he shook his head in disbelief. 

‘you’re unbelievable.’ his voice was soft and steady, almost serious; and yet you could still see the way his hand moved towards his paints, the way he was trying hard to contain himself from grinning. next thing you knew, your face was covered in paint too — a big, purple dot right in the middle of your forehead. 

from that moment on, it was an all out war — your ceramic mugs long forgotten, paintbrushes like swords in your hands as you tried your best at slashing your boyfriend and opponent with different shades of blue, different hues of greens and yellows. euijoo didn’t go down without a fight either: dealing precise, colorful attacks to your skin. 

you tried to catch him off guard, wanting your paintbrush to hit him directly on his nose and yet he was faster. euijoo caught your hand mid movement: stopping your attack before you were able to hit him, his eyes staring down at your smaller frame now standing mere centimeters in front of him. his plan for a counterattack was simple. 

a kiss — to plead an end to this colorful war, and a wordless apology for what had caused it.

WANG YIXIANG <𝟑 .ᐟ

the sink was filled with dishes — so many of them, in fact, that you were surprised you'd managed to accumulate this many. even more so when considering the fact that it was only you and nicholas living there. but alas, you had no time to spare for thinking and wondering about just how this mess came to life. it was better to take care of it right away and get it over with. 

unfortunately for you, your boyfriend seemed to have other plans. 

his arms were wrapped around your waist the moment you stepped in front of the sink, face nuzzling in the side of your neck as a low hum left his lips. you tried pushing him off, but to no avail — his grip was like a koala’s, wrapping around you with no intention of letting go anytime soon. 

‘nicho, i need to clean these up.’ you murmured, feeling his lips press gentle kisses against the side of your neck and collarbones. you tried taking a step forward, hands reaching for one of the dirty plates, his hold was far too strong to allow you to do so. ‘i’m being serious. if i don’t do it now, the pile will only grow larger.’

‘oh, but you cooked such a delicious dinner for us, angel.’ nicholas said quietly, his breath tickling your skin. ‘you deserve some rest. let’s have a nap, hm?’

‘but-’

‘no buts. i can see you’re tired.’ he stated, voice now more firm and yet still quiet and gentle in its own way, the man turning you around in his arms in one swift motion. ‘i’ll take care of the dishes when we both wake up, how does that sound?’

your gaze met his and nicholas couldn’t help but smile at the sight — the love of his life standing right in front of him, wrapped in his arms. a nod from you was enough for him to pick you up, one hand under your shoulders while the other rested under your knees. he carried you to your shared bedroom with ease, putting you down on the soft bedding carefully, the mattress slightly bending under your weight. 

he positioned himself next to you quickly, body gluing to yours the moment he laid down. nicholas let out a satisfied hum as he felt you nuzzle into his touch, his muscles immediately loosening as he let himself enjoy this moment of rest. his lips reached to plant a sweet kiss on your forehead before he closed his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist almost on instinct.

you didn’t even realise how quickly you dozed off to sleep — but when you woke up, the sink was empty, and all the dishes were squeaky clean.

NAKAKITA YUMA <𝟑 .ᐟ

when it came to classic romantic gestures in relationships, yuma wasn’t exactly the best. 

your relationship with him has been mostly built on a friendship you shared beforehand — and the same traits you shared when being just friends had transitioned into this new situation almost naturally. the daily banter, the rivalry in everything you two had touched, the neverending stream of snarky remarks made about one another (with love, of course). but despite all that, yuma knew when it was the right time to tone it down and change his behavior to cater to your mood — and when he’d seen you going through the most tiring week you could’ve possibly imagined, he knew it was the time to do just that. 

you came back to your shared apartment: exhausted and mentally drained, hoping for nothing more than some well deserved rest. the place was unusually quiet, especially considering that yuma was already home — which would usually be well known by the tv playing in the living room or the music blasting from the speakers. this time however, it was silence.

your first instinct told you that maybe he’d be late today, so you headed straight for the bedroom; the smallest smile on your face as you thought about finally getting to lay down, all your muscles painfully sore. you opened the door slowly but firmly, one hand on the handle while the other reached to take the few stray strands of hair away from your face.

and there you found him — your boyfriend, in your bed, waiting for you with a smile on his face and your favorite blanket in hand. the moment you saw him there, your world became a little brighter, the worries of the entire week suddenly disappearing into the void. 

he was there, waiting for you like a cat for its owner, already having made himself comfortable on the bed.

‘join me for cuddles?’ he asked, voice honey sweet and slightly nasally. you didn’t say anything — just plopped down on the bed right next to him, the soft mattress bending under your weight, yuma’s arms immediately reaching to wrap around you. his hands found yours, fingers intertwining in a sweet gesture as he nuzzled closer to you in an almost cat-like manner, humming in satisfaction at finally having you close to him. 

your muscles, previously tensed up, have finally relaxed — your body easing into his touch, an action as natural as breathing. 

‘thank you, yuma.’ you mumbled quietly, voice barely above a whisper. ‘i really needed this.’

‘i know, love.’ he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. ‘you should get some rest now. i’ll run you a warm bath later, how does that sound?’

you turned your head just enough to look at him, eyes locking with his.

‘perfect.’

ASAKURA JO <𝟑 .ᐟ

your boyfriend was perhaps the most clueless boy you have ever met — especially so when it came to affection. 

maybe it could’ve been blamed on the fact that your relationship was still fresh: both of you were still learning the ropes of sharing a life together, of having someone so dear to your hearts. That might’ve been the reason. or maybe it was just the fact that asakura jo, god bless him, could only focus on one thing at once. 

and your need for attention just so managed to unfortunately overlap with his drawing time. 

you stared at him from the other side of the couch — admiring his side profile, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the way his brows furrowed just slightly when he was focusing, each stroke of his pencil intentional and almost calculated, as if striving for nothing short of perfection with his current drawing. jo, completely in his own world, didn’t even notice your gaze on him, nor did he notice that the movie you had previously chosen for yourself to watch has been paused. 

he felt the weight of your head resting on his lap, and only then did he actually avert his attention from his work in progress to you — eyes immediately softening upon meeting yours, lips curving up into a shy smile. 

‘need anything, my love?’ he asked, voice nothing above a whisper. you nodded and jo’s head tilted to the side just slightly. ‘oh, and what is it?’

‘you.’

the tips of his ears turned red in no time.

‘oh. i- i’m sorry, i didn’t realise…’ he mumbled, face heating up from embarrassment, gaze flicking from your face to the drawing, then back to you face. you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight — finding his sudden shyness the most endearing view in the world. 

you nuzzled closer to him. jo’s hand reached towards your hair — running his fingers through it and playing with the strands ever so gently, earning a satisfied hum from you. he smiled, almost unconsciously, like a habit reserved for whenever he’d spent time with you. you were his life’s joy, after all: it was hard not to smile whenever his eyes laid upon you. 

jo leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead: then another one to your nose, both of your cheeks, your chin, before finally ending it with a final, almost sickeningly sweet kiss on the lips. 

‘happy now?’ he asked, eyes catching yours. you thought about your answer for a while — making sure to make your expression as exaggerated as possible and earning a laugh from him.

‘not yet.’ you finally answered, shaking your head. ‘you might have to give me some more kisses.’

jo chuckled, his cheeks beautifully reddened. 

‘will do.’

SHIGETA HARUA <𝟑 .ᐟ

harua was fully, wholeheartedly sure that the facemasks he had bought would look cute on both of you. they had animal patterns, after all!

both of you have had a rough week behind you — with work and schedules so tightly packed you had little to no time to properly rest, you suggested an afternoon of unwinding. a calm, sweet way for the two of you to spend some quality time together, relaxing in each other’s presence all while recharging your batteries for what was to come next week. truly a perfect plan.

and yet the moment harua took his facemask out of its packaging, he could immediately tell something was off. the pattern showcased on the front of the plastic was in no way similar to the one on the sheet mask — in fact, it bore little to no resemblance to the animal it was supposed to represent. 

‘oh.’ he mumbled quietly, the facemask resting in his hands. ‘i expected it to look… different.’

you stared at the sheet mask in his hands, then at the graphic on the packaging — and bursted out laughing.

‘put it on, please.’ you pleaded, trying to hold in your laughter as much as you could. ‘i need to see it on you.’

‘only if you put yours, too.’ he argued. 

so you complied — the two of you ending up in facemasks with very poorly made designs of a cat and a bunny respectively, material headbands resting atop your heads to hold all your hair from getting in your face.

‘you can’t laugh.’ harua mumbled, trying to smooth out the sheet mask on your face. his fingers were gentle and his touch was light and careful. ‘you’re not supposed to move your facial muscles too much, or the mask will be uneven.’

‘i’m trying my best, rua.’ you said, forcing yourself to stop grinning at your boyfriend. the look in his eyes was serious — but paired with the pink headband and that atrocious face mask you just couldn’t treat him as such. ‘you just look like a moron. i can’t help it.’

even with his face currently covered in full by the face mask, you could still see the frown forming on his lips.

‘alright. no kisses for you tonight, then.’

‘oh, come on, that’s cruel!’ you argued, arms wrapping around your boyfriend’s frame as you latched onto him. ‘gimme just one. Please.’

‘no.’

‘pretty please.’

‘still no.’

‘extremely pretty please?’ 

harua looked at you — or rather at the cat facemask covering your skin — and smiled just slightly, the upcurve of his lips barely noticeable. but you caught it. 

‘see, i knew you’d agree!’

the boy sighed, smile not leaving his lips as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on yours. after all when it comes to you, he’d always cave in eventually.

TAKAYAMA RIKI <𝟑 .ᐟ

you could feel the delicious smell of food from the moment you entered the apartment — the aroma spreading across all of the living room and kitchen area all the way to the hall, making your mouth water almost instantly.

oh, what a blessing it was to have a boyfriend who loves to cook.

taki was standing in the kitchen when your eyes finally found his frame. his back was facing you, the boy humming a quiet melody as he worked on something you couldn’t quite see, but could definitely feel the smell of. upon hearing your steps, he turned around immediately — his lips immediately curving up into a smile, eyes sparkling with excitement at the mere sight of his partner finally back at home. 

you gave him a quick, soft kiss, mumbling a quick ‘hello’ under your breath as you let taki wrap his arms around you, caging you in his presence with the warmest of hugs, one you waited for and thought of all day at work. it was your favorite part of the day — no matter what time either of you came back home, no matter how tired, you could always count on getting comfort and affection in the purest of forms. 

‘i’m making you food.’ he mumbled, motioning over to the pan currently on the stove. ‘it’s that recipe you said you wanted to try.’

‘i think i just fell even more in love with you.’ you stated, eyes sparkly with adoration and excitement. you leaned in closer, chest pressing against his as your lips touched his and taki couldn’t help but smile into the kiss — his hands falling lower and resting on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

taki allowed himself to indulge in this moment of pleasure, practically melting under your each touch as his lips moved against yours in almost perfect harmony. he led you towards the kitchen counter, your back resting against it as he caged you with his presence. 

and then he heard a weird, hissing sound coming from right behind him. 

‘shit, the food.’ he mumbled, quickly turning around towards the stove and turning it off. thankfully, the ingredients weren’t burnt — which you could see by taki’s reaction, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. 

you giggled slightly at the situation, watching the way taki checked whether nothing happened to the pan, whether no part of the food was even slightly overcooked. had that been the case, he would start everything all over again: after all, you deserved only the best. 

‘no kisses from now on.’ taki stated, trying to sound as serious as possible, even though he knew that if you tried kissing him again he wouldn’t stop you. ‘not until i’m done with the food, that is.’

you couldn’t help but smile — letting your boyfriend focus on his cooking, knowing you’d get all the affection you’d want once he’s done.

HIROTA RIKI <𝟑 .ᐟ

the sassy man apocalypse has been a nightmare spreading around at an alarming speed. it just so happened that your boyfriend maki might’ve been a victim, too — which became ever so apparent whenever he’d ask you to take his pictures.

‘you’re holding it at the wrong angle, ugh.’ he whined, changing his pose for the picture. you only chuckled at his antics, slightly adjusting the phone in your hands, looking at him in disbelief. ‘i love you to death, but i should ask nicho next time.’

‘okay mr. know it all, show me how you’d angle the phone then.’ 

maki obliged happily, taking his own phone out of his back pocket and showcasing the exact position he expected from you for best quality pictures, looking somewhat like an eccentric photographer trying to explain how to get his good side, how to make sure you don’t make him look even one inch shorter than he actually is. the instant switch between explaining and posing for the camera was almost comical, making you giggle at your boyfriend's actions — but you took the pictures the way he wanted to nonetheless. you decided to check them all once you’re at home, seeing as the weather was getting cloudy and the rain was just about to start. 

maki settled on the couch right next to you, arm mindlessly wrapping around yours as he stared at the pictures he had instructed you to take. they turned out… questionable, to say the least.

‘that angle is-’

‘terrible?’ you cut him off, lips already curving up into a satisfied grin because once again, you were right. or rather, to be more precise, he was wrong — which filled you with even greater joy. 

‘yeah.’ maki huffed out, the frown on his face deepening with each swiped picture, brows furrowing in annoyance at each failed attempt, each picture unworthy of gracing his instagram’s feed. he couldn’t help but sigh. and then he got to the pictures you took of him before his ‘brilliant’ directions threw you off your game. 

and god, were they perfect. 

you smiled proudly, straightening up on the couch as you carefully watched his reactions to each picture — the way he slowed down his swiping process, the corners of his lips tilting upwards ever so slightly so as not to give you too much satisfaction. his eyes drifted towards you for a quick second, then right back to your phone. you didn’t even have to say anything.

‘alright.’ he admitted, a defeated tone in his voice. ‘you’re good at taking pictures. sorry i doubted you.’

you giggled with triumph, giving your boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek. 

‘better thank nicholas?’ you asked playfully, nudging his shoulder.

‘yes.’ he mumbled, nuzzling closer into you, fingers intertwining with yours. ‘but don’t tell him that. he might kill me if he hears that.’

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