੭ৎ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ੭ৎ

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this is going to be a chaotic ride of a fic or perhaps series and i am really really looking forward to it. if you're interested, comment below, or send an ask requesting to be in the taglist! hope you enjoy this one, sweethearts.

EVERYTHING WRITTEN IS PURELY FICTION──NOTHING IS DIRECTLY RELATED TO ANY REAL LIFE EVENTS.

The gym was alive with movement, the rhythmic clanking of weights mixing with the steady hum of treadmills and the occasional grunt of someone pushing their limits. The scent of sweat, metal, and faint traces of disinfectant lingered in the air. Overhead, fluorescent lights cast a cool, artificial glow, bouncing off the mirrors that lined the walls.

And in the middle of it all, you were dying.

"One more," Changbin urged, standing behind you as you struggled with the bench press. His voice was firm but encouraging, the kind of tone that made people believe they could do anything—even when their muscles were screaming otherwise.

You gritted your teeth. "I hate you."

He chuckled, hands hovering just beneath the bar in case you needed a last-second save. "Nah, you love me."

Your breath hitched, and for a second, your focus wavered. The barbell wobbled dangerously in your grip.

"Hey—focus!" Changbin scolded, quickly grabbing the bar to steady it. He helped guide it back onto the rack with ease before turning to you, an amused smirk playing at his lips. "You good?"

No. Absolutely not. Not when he says stuff like that so casually.

You sat up, wiping sweat from your forehead and trying to compose yourself. It was fine. You were used to this. You and Changbin had been gym buddies for nearly a year now, meeting up almost every day to push each other harder, faster, stronger. It had started as a casual thing—just a mutual agreement to keep each other accountable.

But somewhere along the way, between the spotting sessions and the post-workout snack runs, you caught feelings.

Horrible, heart-racing, stomach-flipping feelings.

Of course, you kept them to yourself. Changbin was your friend. He was the one who hyped you up after PRs, who teased you relentlessly when you skipped leg day, who offered you his hoodie when the gym was too cold. There was no way he felt the same.

Which is why you wrote everything down instead.

Your gym notebook was a mess of progress logs, workout routines, and… unfortunately, the occasional Changbin-related brain dump. Somewhere between scribbling notes on new lifting techniques and tracking your reps, you'd let your thoughts slip—admiring how dedicated he was, how his laugh made your worst days better, how his arms looked absolutely sculpted by the gods.

And now, thanks to your own carelessness, that notebook was about to ruin your life.

You had been flipping through it earlier, waiting for Changbin to finish his last set of shoulder presses. Too tired to think, you’d placed it absentmindedly on the bench beside you while you stretched, completely forgetting about it when you moved to grab a towel.

That’s when Changbin noticed it.

“What’s this?” he asked, squatting down next to the bench, his towel draped over his shoulder. His eyes lit up with genuine curiosity as he picked it up, tilting it slightly in the light.

Oh. Oh no.

You turned just in time to see him admiring your gym notebook like it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. And honestly? That reaction wasn’t surprising.

Because your notebook was pink. Not just pink—glittery pink, with tiny silver stars embedded in the cover. You had bought it on impulse, thinking it would make gym journaling a little less boring. You forgot that Changbin loved pink.

“This is kinda sick,” he murmured, flipping it over in his hands. “Where’d you get this?”

You blinked. “Uh—why?”

He grinned, tapping the cover. “Because it’s pink. And it sparkles.”

Of course. Of course, this would be the reason he suddenly cared about your notebook. “Changbin, put that down,” you said quickly, stepping toward him.

He raised an eyebrow at your suspiciously panicked tone. “What? I just wanna see what you’re writing—”

And then, before you could snatch it back, someone walked past the bench too fast and bumped into it, knocking the notebook straight out of Changbin’s hands.

The glittery pink cover flopped open.

Changbin instinctively bent down, picking it up before you could even react. And that was the beginning of the end.

His eyes flicked across the page, his amused grin fading as he actually started reading. A beat of silence. His expression shifted. His fingers curled a little tighter around the edges of the notebook.

Your stomach plummeted.

His brow furrowed. His grip tightened slightly. His expression shifted from casual curiosity to something unreadable.

"Wait…" His voice came slower this time. "You like me?"

Silence. The earth had officially stopped turning. The gym noises seemed to fade into a distant hum, like someone had pressed mute on the world.

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You felt hotter than you had during the entire workout.

Changbin glanced between the notebook and you, flipping to another page as if double-checking. You knew exactly what he was reading—tiny notes about how much you admired him, how he made you laugh, how you loved training with him.

And then, he did the absolute worst thing he could do.

He laughed.

“Wait—” He ran a hand through his damp hair, still grinning. “You—me?”

Your stomach twisted. You groaned, covering your face with both hands. “Please, let me die in peace.”

There was a pause before you heard the notebook slip from his grasp, dropping to the floor. It’s pink, glitter covered glory already doomed to be forgotten. His fingers brushed yours—warm, steady, grounding—as he gently pried your hands away from your face.

"Good," he murmured.

Your brows furrowed. "Good?"

Changbin’s smile softened. "Because I like you too."

Your heart stopped. "You—what?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really didn’t notice, huh? I’ve been dropping hints for months."

You blinked. "HINTS? What hints?"

He crossed his arms, smirking. "Oh, I don’t know—offering to train with you even though I usually work out alone? Letting you pick the music even though your playlist is a mess? Carrying your bag when it’s literally lighter than a dumbbell?"

Your mouth opened, then closed. That… didn’t mean anything. Right?

He scoffed, tilting his head toward the notebook. "Oh? And writing ‘His arms are literally sculpted by the gods’ in here does?"

Your soul left your body.

"YOU READ THAT?!"

Changbin burst out laughing, doubling over as you smacked his arm repeatedly.

"Stop laughing!" you whined, trying to grab the notebook, but he easily dodged, still grinning.

His laughter softened after a moment, and when he looked at you again, there was something different in his expression—something warm, something real.

“Come on,” he murmured, his fingers curling around yours, thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Now that it’s out there… let’s do something about it.”

You swallowed. "Like… what?"

Changbin smirked. "Like letting me take you on a date, dummy."

And just like that, all the tension, the nerves, the embarrassment—it melted away. Because this was Changbin. And suddenly, liking him didn’t feel so scary anymore.

Later that night, you checked your gym notebook, flipping through it’s pink glory to where he had read. And there, scrawled in messy new handwriting at the bottom of the page, was:

"For the record, your arms aren’t too bad either…..and your thighs too. 😉 - CB"

Still, it was surprising, now, seeing that same Hwang Hyunjin cage her between his outstretched arms and the cold brick wall of some bar’s back entrance. His glossy gaze peering into her soul, whispered words pleading her to not leave his sight, and suddenly she was truly at a loss for words.

The flush of his cheeks, tinged with red from either the liquor or the emotions that simmered beneath, gleamed under the light of the night that they found themselves in. His hushed tone, hot, a slight crackle of pain in it, a hint of desperation.

His lips were warm, pressing flush against hers. 

A warmth she hadn’t expected, big eyes staring wide into the night behind him as his lips grazed against hers. Yet, surprisingly she didn’t push him away. 

Instead her eyes fluttered close, allowing him to kiss her deeply.

What was even more surprising was the fact that up until yesterday—no, even an hour ago, he had hated her.

Well… he was supposed to be hating her.

Something she had been sure about ever since they had met. But now as he kissed her in the dark alley, his breath mixed with alcohol, and mint, she wondered if it had been a misunderstanding all along.

A first impression left wrong.

Exactly where had she gotten it all mixed up?

Because it was glaringly obvious that she was wrong.

Especially when he lightly grazed her cheek after pulling out of one of the most gentlest kisses she had ever gotten. His lips thinned into a soft smile. A foreign sight, a beautiful tug of his lips that was enough to make her cheeks tingle, her legs tremble.

And it seemed now as she stared at his fond gaze that pierced into hers, she had another realization.

Hwang Hyunjin didn’t hate her. 

No, not even close.

Rather, it was the exact opposite. Taken easily by the indifferent girl who sat in front of him in the lecture hall where he felt as if he were the main spectacle to be seen.

Hyunjin didn’t expect to fall in love. Fall in love so effortlessly. 

That too with a girl who was… someone else’s.

Hyunjin was good looking, undoubtedly. He had everyone entranced, guys, girls, students, staff. He could date anyone he wanted, have anyone of his choosing, as cocky as that sounded, but still undeniably true. 

However, it seemed his heart was set on someone out of reach, eyes lingering on someone taken.

He convinced himself. Once he had the realization.

Tried to convince himself. That he was only paying attention to her because they shared similar insights. Her worldview was just as his, that’s all.

And when that didn’t work. He tried a different approach of self-convincing. Telling himself that he was drawn because she was off-limits. That if felt like a challenge, his ego so twisted it couldn’t fathom that she wasn’t glancing at him like he had her. 

Taking sneaky peeks here and there in the middle of class, or as he passed through the corridors where she happened to be. 

Eyes wandering around campus when he went out of his way to take the path she frequented. 

But he knew that wasn’t true. Deep down he knew. His sharp, narrow eyes, always darting to find her figure in the lecture halls, the library. The classrooms where sometimes he had no choice but to sit next to her.

He tried glaring at her. Staring with such intensity he hoped the feelings he had would scare away like she did at the sights. 

But they persisted.

Perhaps that’s where she has gotten it wrong. Or rather, he had made her believe that it was the truth. An illusion created to protect himself. 

That he didn’t like her at all. 

That he liked her so much he didn’t know what to do.

He wondered what her boyfriend was like. What kind of man was so lucky to be loved by someone like her.

Someone radiating. Smart, expressive. A deep thinker who expressed the melancholies of life with beautiful outtakes and captivating smiles. The crinkles of her eyes that appeared when she grinned wide, giggles muffled behind her hands as she covered her mouth, easily drawing him in. 

Sights he would look at from the sidelines, like some creep, like some loser pining for someone untouchable, afraid to approach her. Because instead of convincing himself, he had convinced her that he hated her.

He wondered if her boyfriend liked the sound of her laughter as much as he did. Wishing for up-close sights of such pretty sounds, pretty faces she probably made, exclusive just for the lucky lover.

He was jealous of a man he had never met, never even saw, cursing him, wishing he was him.

How’d they meet? In highschool? In some event that occurred outside of school settings? Perhaps they were set up, or maybe childhood friends who realized they felt more. Scenarios darted through his mind whenever he spotted her smiling at her phone. Perhaps texting the lucky lover, gushing to him.  

It had to be something strong. Something pure. That even while attending different universities their love still persisted. She didn’t mention him, yet she was always glowing, always radiating. A sight that was enough to tell him that she was happy. With her life, with her studies. With the man he wished he was.

─────────────────────────

It began the second week of their first semester. Second year, right before Hyunjin had to declare a major.

Only the second week of school and he found himself heading into the path of unrequited love so effortlessly, one that would drive him mad from the silent yearning. A problem for future Hyunjin. 

But for now, it all began in the creative writing course the aspiring journalism major had to take as a prerequisite to one of his advanced courses. It was his second week back, yet his name was already on everyone’s lips. You’d think they would have gotten used to his presence on campus by now, but alas here he was hot under everyone’s attention.

It was common for him now however, of course who wouldn’t be talking about Hwang Hyunjin. The handsome, the pretty, long haired man who kept to himself. 

Gentle in his actions, fashionable in his style. Quiet in his nature.

Plenty of nicknames that followed from his freshman year. They say he could’ve been a model, could’ve been a cocky narcissist. But he wasn’t anything of the sort. Although it could be misunderstood with the way he glared, almost scowl-like, that he was unapproachable.

Some already labeled him as an asshole simply because of that. While some were even more intrigued by the mystery behind his aura. Although there wasn’t much to read into because there wasn’t anything of that sort there to begin with. Perhaps they had been conjuring up stories, really inspired by the creative writing course.

Then there were the indifferent ones.

The students that entered class and only glanced his way in passing. Students just like Y/N who didn’t have any particular interest in his good looks and his so-called mysterious aura.

She sat ahead, the row in front of him most of the time. Whenever she came in early enough to nab that seat before anyone could, at least. Only glancing back at him to pass a sheet of the day’s assignment or to ask a quick question, although most of the time she asked one of the girl’s that often lingered on the seats next to him.

Maybe he really was unapproachable, with the way his eyes would flick up to her, sharp and piercing. Dark brows that seemed to narrow as he caught her stare. Watching as she blinked slightly taken aback, before her eyes shifted to the students on either side of him, her lips thinned into a gentle smile as her questions fell through them.

Perhaps she was looking for excuses to gawk at him, perhaps she genuinely needed to ask a question. Who knows?

Hyunjin didn’t care then. No, not for the first couple of days at least. He’d only have to deal with this attention for the next three hours before he headed to his next class and repeat it all. That’s what he thought back then. The kind of student who slipped in and out, not particularly wanting any extra attention than what he had already garnered.

Exhausting.

And it clearly showed in his expressions. His narrowed gazes, his sharp eyes. His poker-faces that didn’t do anything but stare at the front of the lecture hall, at the professor who rambled. Not helping to quell whatever whispers that surrounded him at all. 

Then the second week of classes they were given an in-class assignment. To break down the lyrics to a song. The message, the meaning. The hidden feelings, the insinuations. The possible inspirations.

It was an assignment he enjoyed, as someone who liked music and reading into the lyrics of his favorite songwriters and musicians, he truly had a fun time working on this particular one. At least that’s what he remembered when he thought back to that first semester.

The class had fallen into a comfortable quiet as everyone wrote down their thoughts on the lyrics that lit up the large screen at the front of the room. The sound of keys on a keyboard, pens scribbling on paper settled in the atmosphere. Professor Lim had glanced up every now and then, hearing certain interesting murmurs of a few students sharing vague thoughts.

The hour passed quickly, and then the older man sitting at the front of the room clapped, the loud sound tearing away the students from their thoughts.

Discussions weren’t something Hyunjin shied away from, especially when it came to things he was interested in, passions in his words as he expressed his views. 

Yet, as he listened to the breakdown of this love-song, he couldn’t help but shift back deeper into his seat, his thoughts the exact opposite of what the entire class seemed to be agreeing on. 

The dark-haired man wasn’t one that held himself back from voicing his discoveries, yet with all the attention he had already managed to to get himself in the short span of two weeks, and the lingering eyes of students that whispered about him every time he entered and exited the class, he couldn’t help but keep quiet. His thoughts aching to be voiced aloud. Yet he couldn’t even raise his hands.

   “—It’s not only a love confession. This is a breakup.” 

The words that matched his exact thoughts, made his eyes shoot over to the young woman who sat in the row before him, her back toward him, yet her voice confidently reading whatever she had written.

His eyes fell on his own page as she broke down the verses where heartbreak dripped between the lines. The same ones he had written. He found himself nodding along, listening to her passionate ramble. That’s exactly what he thought!

   “Hmmm…” Professor Lim smiled, leaning back against his desk, his eyes raking over the forty or so students.

   “Then, is Miss Y/N the only one who saw it as a breakup?”

The murmurs amongst the students began as they tried to see it from Y/N’s perspective, looking around to see if anyone else agreed.

Hyunjin raised his hand.

   “Ah...” The professor smiled, his eyes settled onto the dark-haired student amidst the sudden whispered conversations.

Y/N’s head turned to follow the older man’s gaze, her eyes locking onto the handsome student, as if getting a good look for the first time. 

Hyunjin’s eyes flickered down to meet hers, his jaw tightening from her gaze almost boring into him. Y/N blinked, her attention tearing away from the intensity he looked down at her with, quickly turning back around.

And thus began Hwang Hyunjin’s downfall.

They shared two classes back to back. The first creative writing course with Professor Lim, the second another elective that had nothing to do with either their majors. Art studies. 

A pure coincidence. 

History of Orientalism. A class Hyunjin took solely because he didn’t want to come to campus for a single class and leave. He was surprised to see her in the room, granted she had been in that room since the semester started, he just hadn’t noticed. 

But when he did realize they shared that class as well, he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger.

A brief moment. 

And he moved on. 

And then repeat. 

Until suddenly his eyes lingered for a second longer than before, his gaze shifting to find her somewhere in the room.

When he entered the lecture hall first, unloading his stuff, his eyes would dart to her empty desk subconsciously almost. Sometimes settling on the back of her figure that shifted into her seat if she had arrived first.

Hyunjin didn’t realize that his eyes flicked to her as often. 

More than often by the third week of class. Waiting for her to raise her hand and answer. Understand quickly that she loved to ramble through her responses.

He didn’t realize that he wanted to compare their answers, perhaps get a deeper insight of something he missed.

They were breaking down another writing piece in the following class. This time a short story, something about a King and his inner demons. 

And then her answer matched his. Except as he listened, his ears perked up as she broke down another part that he didn’t realize also would support his views, his eyes reading along the lines as she pointed out. His brows relaxed as he stared at her backside, surprised, impressed. Intrigued.

It truly had been effortless for her to fall into his radar, and she didn’t do anything at all.

Except, speak passionately.

Her tone tinged with an underlying excitement, curiosity. The kind that makes you want to listen to it for hours. And she didn’t do anything special at all.

Except, laugh radiantly.

The way her cheeks would raise high with her smile, eyes crinkling. Rare instances Hyunjin caught as he entered the classroom, because she was never like that in front of him. Never shared anything with him besides similar thoughts and the few assignment sheets she passed back.

It was the fourth week of classes when Hyunjin decided he would talk to her. 

Maybe he’ll offer to buy her coffee and listen to her talk about today’s in-class task. Maybe even ask her to team up with him in the next pair-assignment. 

The thought, already making his heart hammer. A nervousness he hadn’t felt in a very long time bubbling within him. 

He dwelled, watching as she began packing her things. He had already turned down the red-haired girl that sat beside him for the group assignment, but now he sat here alone in the back row, second-guessing. The dark-haired man tugged at his bottom lip waiting for the right moment to approach her. 

But there would never be a right moment. Not for Hyunjin who pondered in his mind for too long. 

Y/N faltered at the sudden intrusion of one of those rowdy guys that sat on the other end of the lecture hall. Jaehyun or whatever his name was. Her eyes blinked rapidly from the momentary shock before she composed herself and leaned back as he approached, a little too close for Hyunjin’s liking, but Y/N didn’t seem as bothered. 

She took a step away, tilting her head as she awaited for him to speak.

   “Did you pick a partner?” Jaehyun asked, the smile on his lips wide, irking the quiet man behind them that couldn’t find it in him to leave the room.

Instead, Hyunjin pretended to pack his things, the remaining pen that he purposefully didn’t chuck into his bag now because an item he just had to put away.

Any excuse to linger. To eavesdrop.

   “Ahhh…not yet. But I already know who I’m gonna pair with. I’m going to email her.” Y/N responded politely.

Damn it. Hyunjin found himself biting the inside of his cheek at the revelation.

   “Ah man. I really like your takes, it would have been nice to team up.”

Who doesn’t? Hyunjin couldn’t help his thoughts, the irritation evident in the way his brows furrowed down at his unzipped bag.

He got his answer so why was he still here? Hyunjin’s eyes were glaring in their direction almost, staring down the oblivious duo that he didn’t like seeing together all of a sudden.

The rowdy boy cleared his throat. Shifty eyes that Hyunjin already hated.

   “Then, how about we just get something to eat. Together?” 

Ah, there it was. The true reason for his annoyance on this side of the room. 

The dark-haired pretty boy was not wearing the happiest of expressions. Though he never did so, especially in this class where he didn’t find himself making any friends. But rather than the aloof faces he kept, there was irritation evident on his expression with the way his brows narrowed.

   “Ohh…” Her tone came out laced with surprise, realization settling.

   “Sorry, I have a boyfriend.” She responded with another polite smile.

Hyunjin faltered, his shoulders dropped, eyes blinking as they relaxed and fell to stare at the surface of his desk.

Fuck.

She had a boyfriend. 

Of course she had a boyfriend. Look at her! 

She was funny, she was outgoing. She seemed well-liked, already sharing idle gossip with desk mates before class began, waving at students Hyunjin didn’t even know the names of.

The dark-haired man didn’t know why he was praising her so much. She wasn’t even his friend, let alone someone close to him. 

He didn’t know why it irked him so much. 

Not just the fact that she was in a relationship.

But also because of that idiot who even after finding out she had a boyfriend, continued to pester her. As if it had become a challenge to woo her.

The following class, Jaehyun had even attempted to sit next to her, but failed when her assignment partner took the seat. The sight of which pleased the quiet man that sat behind. His own partner, the girl who he turned down initially, yet embarrassingly went back to, seemed to do pretty well. 

But he found himself comparing her writing to Y/N’s. Wondering how she would have expressed this through her own pretty words.

And the thought of it all made him angry again. His fierce gaze locked onto Y/N who turned back to stretch, in that very moment, but the sight of his narrowed brows made her instantly recoil, shifting in her seat to return back to her book.

And he found his heart dropping.

─────────────────────────

Midterms were quite different for classes like their creative writing one. Where objective’s and perspective’s hold the power to a grade, Professor Lim decided on an assignment that would be critiqued and given feedback by their peers rather than the professor himself.

A free-writing assignment. One that they had to handwrite and given a one-week deadline before passed onto their peers for feedback. By the next break before finals they should have their midterm grades given to them by another student.

It was an announcement that made everyone in the room groan, wondering how it would work when there were already friends and cliques in the class.

   “Everyone will be given a booklet with a number.” Professor Lim raised the blue booklet from a pile, the number “1” in red written over the cover.

   “This is going to be anonymous. Everyone is encouraged to write whatever they please, however they please. No one besides myself will know who the numbers are assigned to.” He hummed, leaning back in his seat.

   “And at the end of the week, you will receive a randomized booklet and leave your feedback through the classroom portal.” 

His eyes scanned the faces and reactions of his students.

   “Unless you tell someone what your number is, it is a secret that I’ll never tell. But please I urge you to respect the anonymity of this assignment.” He added with a final nod, turning back to the booklets.

   “Drop by my office during my office hours to pick up your book.”

The bold letters looked back at Hyunjin. His fingers traced over his number, Number 4, before he flipped to the first page. Staring down at the blank lines of his booklet he wondered what he should write. What could be interesting enough, creative enough, for him to get a good grade. 

That was his only thought then. Unbeknownst that he would truly let himself, his thoughts, free through his assignment.

Maybe he took the free-writing theme a little too seriously.

Hyunjin didn’t think it would become his diary of sorts. Not when he first got a hold of it. But then over the next week, with his feelings intensifying and no one else to turn to and spill all these emotions that churned within, he found himself back at his desk. 

Stewing in the emotions that Y/N unknowingly elicited with her carefree nature and her airy voice.

So he picked up his pen and wrote, fingers dragging over the empty lines to fill the pages with ink. With his feelings. The unsaid, the unexpressed. 

Words that he would never find himself voicing aloud. 

In their art studies class the chirpy professor beamed about the styles of oil paintings and the particular one they spoke about that day, breaking down details. The strokes, the medium. The romanticism that was depicted through it all.

How beautiful, how meaningful. 

How easy was it to get lost in it.

Words the bubbly woman in the front of the room used to describe the painting, yet Hyunjin could only see Y/N in them.

So he went back home that night, and wrote in his journal. In his assignment booklet, pages that felt abused from his rushed writing, hands pressed over, creasing, folding, page after page.

And at the end of the week, when it came to submitting his work, he hesitated. 

Second-guessing himself, if it was okay for his deepest thoughts, his most personal words to be handed over under the guise of a number.

   “Submitting?” Professor Lim’s words broke him away from his frozen stance in front of the submission box. 

The long-haired man blinked at the older teacher who smiled, patting at his shoulder.

   “You’re one of my favorite students Hyunjin, I’m looking forward to reading your work.” He smiled, entering his office, leaving the doubtful man to decide what he wanted to do.

Hyunjin blinked at the blue booklet once more before he submitted it.

Maybe Professor Lim had caught onto his lingering gazes. Maybe he had smelled the fragrance of unrequited love.

Or maybe it was fate, and Hyunjin’s booklet sat on Y/N’s desk the following week.

She had picked up her one of her classmate’s randomized assignments earlier that afternoon, and hadn’t gotten a chance to fully look through it beside the initial scan. Eyes taking the bold Number 4, before shoving it into her bag and rushing to her next class.

Now as she wound down for the evening, ditching the jeans for a much more comfortable pair of sweats, she could start getting things done. 

Opening the class portal to type down her thoughts with one hand, the other flipped through the cover, her eyes glossed over the neat handwriting of Number 4. There’s no way she would recognize it, not sharp enough for these kinds of characteristics to settle in her brain.

Her eyes stilled on the title on the first page. Instantly intrigued, perking up in her seat.

   The art of lingering…

It made her mind swirl, already wondering what it would be about. 

A title that did an amazing job at piquing the readers interest, great. 

She was quick to jot down that thought in her notes, making sure to mention it in her critiques. 

   Like a perfect painting, brushstrokes of gold. Enrapturing. My eyes linger. Refusing to look away. 

   Like a perfect painting, frozen in capture. Yet still, doesn’t look my way. Never looks my way. Because she’s not meant for me. 

   An art piece doesn’t know what the viewer is thinking. 

   Much like she, my perfect painting, who doesn't look my way.

   Will she ever? 

   Ever be like the Mona Lisa? Her gaze follows me no matter where I stand. 

   A beautiful illusion even if it’s nothing but my eyes playing a trick on me. Soothing that sting in my chest temporarily. Until I return to this place, repeating it all over again.

   But my eyes continue to linger on her, no tricks played. The radiating perfection does not look my way.

   “Enraptured for as long as I stare....” Y/N inhaled sharply, reading aloud the words that prick straight at her heart. 

And this was only the first page!?

Her eyes continued scanning, fingers flipping pages. Finding herself leaning in as she read further. As if the closer she got to the words, the more she would be able to read between the lines. Eyes raking over the emotions behind each one. Emotions that belonged to someone infatuated. 

Someone in love.

The heartfelt descriptions of looking at something unattainable yet magnetizing, drawing in by simply existing. 

The beautiful words make the handwriting even prettier in her eyes. A rushed smudge of characters, yet neat in its own odd way.

How could one write like this? Their feelings all over these pages, bleeding all over the lines just like the fleeting gazes they’d written about.

Suddenly she wondered who these words could belong to. Who they were about. 

Unable to recall anyone in her class that had ever hinted at being such an impressive writer. So poetic, so deep in their thinking. Just her style.

Her mind wracked, trying to picture the students that she thought did well, the discussions, the peer-reviews.

No one of any sort was sticking out to her. Making her groan, her curiosity blooming, growing larger than it was. 

As if obsessed instantly, captivated by the handwriting. By the words. 

Enraptured by an anonymous writer who spilled their feelings so effortlessly onto these pages.

Who was pining so hard that it made her slightly envious of the perfect painting they described?

Oh, to be on the receiving end of such words. To be the one spoken about like such. 

Y/N’s fingers began typing the feedback in the course assignment task, her heart hammering slightly from all the thoughts that arose. 

An excitement, a curiosity, fingers burning as she typed. A jumble of letters asking for more, asking if the writer had gotten their closure. If they’ve confessed. Or do they continue to watch from afar?

Hopefully they did get their happiness, or else she would cry honestly. Slightly overwhelmed by her own emotions that were evoked, already so invested in a stranger, in a story that might even be nothing but fiction.

Of course she didn’t know it then. The words written, the heart-clenching descriptions she read about, feelings so strong for a nameless someone. Someone who didn’t know of the Number 4’s pining. 

Making Y/N imagine something beautiful, something pure. Making her wish she was the nameless woman, one receiving such heartfelt confessions, described with the prettiest words one could find. 

She didn’t know then, that this pretty handwriting belonged to none other than Hwang Hyunjin, the very man that glared at her whenever their eyes met. 

That she was the nameless woman.

─────────────────────────

   “Can’t you tell me who wrote this!?” Y/N pressed at Professor Lim, the older man jumping from her sudden presence, her hand almost slamming the booklet in front of him.

He blinked at it for a moment as he let her…request settle. Eyes taking note of the number as he tried to recall who it was assigned to. Then he sighed as he shook his head, a smile on his lips.

   “It defeats the purpose of unbiased feedback if I tell you, Y/N.” He chuckled, fingers flipping through casually, in case he could recognize who it belonged to. 

Ah!

His lips widened into a bigger grin as he realized. The unique handwriting was one of his favorite writers in this class. And it seemed that Y/N was enthralled as well.

   “Not fair! I already submitted my feedback. Can’t you tell me? Please?” There was a slight desperation in her gaze, itching to find out more about such heart clenching storytelling.

Her professor closed the book, shaking his head again.

   “Because of the secrecy, students are able to pour out their true feelings, showcase their real writing styles. I can’t shatter that trust simply because you’re curious.” He hummed, handing back the booklet.

   “Maybe when they read your feedback they’ll be moved enough to come forward and discuss it more with you. For now, take this back, I’ll be collecting them all in the next class.” He grinned, and Y/N reluctantly agreed.

She trudged out of his office defeated, clutching the booklet to her chest. Yet, before she could make it past the corner she collided into another form, a surprised yelp escaping her instinctively as she stumbled.

Hyunjin steadied her, hands grabbing at her forearms to prevent her from colliding into the wall, falling back onto the ground. Eyes wide from both the sudden collision and her presence, bore into her. His touch on her arms, her skin warm under hers.

   “S-sorry!” He exclaimed, pulling his hands back at his sides almost instantly.

Y/N blinked, the first time ever hearing Hwang Hyunjin speak this loud, his voice this high. The first time ever seeing his eyes wide, raking over her in concern rather than that judgemental stare that seemed to forever be a part of his face.

   “It’s okay.” She found herself mumbling, taking a step back, her arms returning to clutch the booklet tighter against her chest.

Hyunjin’s eyes flickered to the familiar thing, at the number on the cover, sucking in a breath silently as his eyes grew even more wider. His attention darted back to her, to her expression, her radiant eyes blinking at him in confusion.

   “Professor Lim is in his office if you’re looking for him. But I think he’s got a class starting soon so you’d better hurry.” She nodded, a smile straining on her lips.

   “Ah—did you finish it.” He pointed instead.

Her eyes followed his finger to the booklet in her grasp before she looked at him.

Even more confused.

They’d never spoken to each other like this. Not more than a curt “thank you” or one word answers, at least. So it was kind of fascinating, kind of bewildering, to find him making small talk with her like this. 

   “…Yeah. I submitted it already. Did you?”

He nodded, his eyes not leaving the blue cover of the thin book in her hands.

   “Did you like it?” His gaze dropped to the tiles, suddenly self-conscious, suddenly nervous.

Y/N looked down at the book, her smile widening as she stared at it. 

   “It was…captivating.” 

His eyes flickered up to find her looking at his work with admiration. A new sight of her that had his breath hitch. 

   “I think I fell in love.” She grinned, looking at him only to realize that they weren’t close enough for such conversations, especially with the way his wide eyes bore into her, reminding her instantly that he probably didn’t like her.

   “Anyways, I have to go. Thanks for not letting me fall on my ass.” She quickly waved, almost scurrying away before he could get in another word.

Hyunjin stood in the middle of the hall, watching her disappear, his heart hammering against his chest, his cheeks ablaze.

─────────────────────────

The more Y/N thought about it, the more it made her grumble. 

How come she didn’t have a secret admirer, especially one that wrote such beautiful things about their subject of admiration. 

Y/N knew it was a stretch to romanticize this in such a way. But for someone who was painfully single, pretending to be someone in a passionate relationship, it pricked her even harder. 

The following class, she found herself scanning the lecture hall. Her eyes darted around with a new curiosity. 

Maybe if she paid attention closely, she’ll catch them. The mysterious writer. 

Her eyes flitted. Left, right. 

Everyone seemed to be in their own worlds, focused on their things, in the idle talks before the professor entered the room. She turned around, the back row where only a few students sat usually. Stiffening instantly when her eyes met Hwang Hyunjin’s equally startled gaze. A look that doesn’t last long before it’s morphing into his usual scowl-like expression, his eyes flicking away from her. The entire five second ordeal made her simmer in almost embarrassment as she turned back in her seat, melting into the surface in hopes of appearing smaller.

Gosh. Did he think she was staring? 

Like all these other people who ogled him as if they’ve never seen a good-looking guy in their lives.

Of course she’s noticed. Who wouldn’t, when heads turned as soon as he entered a room, whispers about him passed as if he wasn’t even there, as if he can’t hear them.

She would scowl and scoff too if she were him. 

Although perhaps he was the only one that could stare with that piercing gaze that both gave her the shivers and made her blush—

No! She had to focus. Get Hwang Hyunjin and his stupidly pretty sharp stare out of head and find the writer that has become her new obsession. 

Except only thirty minutes into the class, Y/N had found her writer, easily. 

And Hwang Hyunjin was back on her mind.

Y/N  blinked at the worksheet.

The short passage that was written based on the prompt for today’s class. A sheet that was being peer reviewed, and somehow with all the passing around, ended up on front of her.

Sure, she never particularly paid any attention to handwriting, unless it was the most jaw -dropping, beautiful calligraphy she had ever seen. So the dark-haired man’s scribbles shouldn’t have caught her attention. But after studying and staring at the written words in Number 4’s “art of lingering” for days, Y/N had easily recognized it.

And then she remembered their brief conversation outside of Professor Lim’s office, the way his eyes bore into the booklet. The way he asked if she liked what he wrote. 

She claimed to have fallen in love with Number 4. 

Number 4, who was Hwang Hyunjin.

The author of the poetic romance, his journal entries that had her swooning. That had her mind wracking, sparking an obsession-like curiosity. Wishing he wrote with her in mind.

And it shouldn’t have been the first thought that came to her. But she thought about the girl Hyunjin liked. 

And suddenly she was tasting…bitter? 

Oh boy.

It was weird battling feelings that weren’t there the day before, well for Y/N just an hour before. Before she found out her favorite new writer was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet pretty boy who looked at her as if she stole something from him.

It pricked her now that she thought about it.

His piercing gazes shot to her were anything but affectionate, tolerant at best. She wondered exactly what kind of eyes, what sort of expressions he made when he looked at his crush.

Wonders that made her groan.

Jaehyun turned to look at her at the sound she didn’t realize had actually escaped her mind and into the silence. And suddenly she could feel Hyunjin’s scowl boring into her, perhaps wondering if she hated what he wrote. The assignment she had almost forgotten about, lost in her thoughts.

   “Everything good?” The guy next to her muttered, head tilting with a smile.

She managed to strain a smile as she nodded, turning her attention back to Hyunjin’s handwriting.

Then there was this Jaehyun, the man who suddenly became clingy once she lied about having a boyfriend. 

She thought it was better than an embarrassing rejection on the spot. Better than him asking uncomfortable questions about why she didn’t want to give him a chance, because clearly this man wasn’t the type to take “no” easily.

It was supposed to be a white lie. One that would have his interest dissipate, should have at least. But he continued to pester her, as if she would suddenly realize how handsome he was. How cool he was. Somehow the lies had grown into something bigger. As if every day, this annoyance came to class prepared with a new question about her fake relationship.

“Does he go here?” 

“No.”

“Does long distance work for you?”

“It’s great.”

   “Does you boyfriend allow you to have guy-friends—”

   “Hey.” 

Both Y/N and Jaehyun turned back to Hyunjin who had interrupted Jaehyun’s intrusive question of the day. The long-haired man leaned in with a glare in his gaze, eyes piercing into Jaehyun.

Y/N didn’t realize her breath had hitched, her own gaze raking over Hwang Hyunjin as if she had seen him again for the first time.

   “Your chattering is bothersome.” Hyunjin’s tone had been sharp, eyes flicking over to Y/N who found herself stiffening, her own gaze tearing away to look at her, or rather, his work.

Jaehyun grumbled beside her, mumbling something along the lines of “what and asshole” but she couldn’t care less, grateful even for the interruption Hyunjin brought.

It was funny how easily she became exactly like Number 4. Like the writer who penned about stolen glances. Fond gazes.

How easily she had become like Hyunjin who supposedly looked at another, her own eyes finding any chance to turn to look at him.

She felt like all those people that kept their eyes on him. His presence, his movement, always garnering unwanted attention, as if they’ve never seen a man tie back his hair.

Except when she did catch the sight of him walking into class with his hair tied away from his face, she suddenly realized how they felt, as annoying as that was.

He truly was a work of art. Funny that she didn’t notice before, she must have been blind, or too absorbed with herself. Although a part of her was aware he only appeared even more ethereal because she caught a glimpse of his heart.

His words, his emotions, written freely. Things he kept hidden as he sat alone and kept to himself.

He knew she had his booklet, knew what she thought of it, yet never once brought it up after that day they ran into each other. Something that made her slightly disappointed. Maybe she should use it as an excuse to approach him. Find answers to questions that she was itching to ask. Maybe she could ask him to grab a coffee, or—

   “Would you boyfriend be okay with you going to a mixer?”

Y/N turned to blink, finding the red-haired girl next to Hyunjin, leaning over the desk to get her attention.

Right. She had a boyfriend. Well… was supposed to anyway. 

A lie that had spread throughout the class because of Jaehyun and his nosy pestering.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to Hyunjin who was on his phone, before he slowly began to pack up his things as the class came to an end, his attention kept to himself.

   “It’s really just getting drinks with a few other students, but I wanted to ask just in case.” The girl added, her voice bringing Y/N’s attention back to her.

   “Um, text me when and where.” She found herself attempting to smile, fingers tugging at her bag to throw her books into it.

The red-head hummed with the response, gaze shifting to Hwang Hyunjin, her once assignment partner.

   “You can come too if you want, Hyunjin.” She tried to grin, aware that he was a man of a few-words, a frustration that now made him feel like any other guy to her.

   “Sure.” His response was curt, standing to throw his bag over his shoulder.

────────────────────────

The so-called mixer was at some bar outside of campus, a place she had been to a few times prior with some friends on her own. It seemed it really was just a get-together with drinks.

Although she did see some flirting happening over in one of those corners, and a few unfamiliar faces that didn’t belong to any of the students in their creative writing course.

But Y/N wasn’t searching for just any familiar face. Her eyes scanned the place for the familiar sights of long locks, the dark brows, the plush lips, all pulled into a resting-bitch-face.

Her eyes meet Hyunjin’s from across the room. And for a moment as she inhaled deeply to herself, the sight of a gentle gaze staring back at her, Y/N could only stand rooted to the spot.

He did show up. Even if it sounded like he wasn’t truly interested. Maybe he cared more than he let on.

Maybe…

Y/N eyes fell to the floor, a bitterness creeping down her throat.

Maybe the girl he loved was here tonight.

Y/N’s eyes flickered back up, back to Hyunjin’s form, who was now distracted by the bartender, the bald man handing Hyunjin his drink.

Would it be okay for her to walk over? To use tonight as an excuse to finally quell whatever hostility that had settled between them, for no reason what-so-ever?

Y/N nodded to herself, determined gaze that decided she wouldn’t back away tonight, pushing her forward. She was going to make sure he likes her, as a person at least, before she gushes about his work. 

About how she had developed a teeny-tiny crush on him.

Perhaps a little bigger than teeny, seeing as she’s jealous of the girls that approach him.

   “Y/N! You also came!” Jaehyun’s voice tore her away from her focus, head darting back to the call of her name.

The man in question approached with a few of his friends, one she’s seen before, another a stranger.

   “Yeah…” She thinned her lips into a polite smile.

   “This is Y/N.” He spared a glance to one of his friends, the three men sharing knowing-gazes between each other.

The sights making Y/N feel slightly put on the spot for some reason.

   “So you’re the girl who hasn’t fallen for this man’s charm yet.” One of Jaehyun’s friends nudged him, his grin wide, yet words enough to make the girl in front of them uncomfortable.

   “Dude. I told you she has a boyfriend.” Jaehyun chuckled.

The second man, the stranger, gripped Jaenhyun’s shoulder, gaze settling over her. 

   “Yeah, surely if she was single she wouldn’t be able to resist you.” He added, falling into wing-man mode.

The sight of the three guys here, added to Y/N fury that brimmed beneath because of those girls that kept approaching the man she was supposed to set things straight with tonight, all made Y/N groan. 

Out loud.

The sound, clearly that of someone annoyed, broke away whatever chuckles that ignited amongst the three men in front of her.

They blinked, stunned, peering into her narrowed brows.

   “I don’t have a boyfriend.” She confessed.

   “I never did. Your friend here is obnoxious and really pushy.”

   “Seeing as I'm actually very single and still haven’t fallen for his charms or whatever, clearly shows I actually do not care at all about him, or his interest in me. Please just, leave me alone.”

Y/N doesn’t linger behind to truly take in the fluster that settled over Jaehyun or the bewildered expressions that crossed his friends’ faces. 

Nor did she care if it seemed as if everyone had heard her tirade of pointed words, her words laced with her anger barely contained.

Y/N found herself pushing open the next door she could find with the bright neon EXIT lights, suddenly feeling suffocated inside.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm herself.

This wasn’t her. She wasn’t the kind of person to have such outbursts. Sure Jaehyun made her uncomfortable sometimes, but he hadn’t done anything that crossed a line. 

Maybe she was harsh on him. Maybe she should apologize.

Maybe—

   “Hey!” The voice of Jaehyun broke her away from her worries, spinning around to find him stare at her with narrowed brows.

He was angry, it was clear from his expression, if not from the sharpness of his tone.

   “You fucking embarrassed me.” He muttered, figure striding out towards her.

Steps that made her draw back as he got closer.

   “I-I’m—”

   “So what if I gave you some attention. You think you’re so special that you can just embarrass me like that? In front of everyone too?” He spat, almost cornering her back into the brick walls.

She had been right, he was the kind who didn’t take rejection well. And he truly never had any care for personal space either. 

Except right now, with the way he glared into her, stepping closer, it scared her. A sudden panic crossed her express, balled fist lifting to push him away.

Yet before she could even attempt to shove him back, he was ripped away from her line-of-sight. The pull was so aggressive, his form almost flew back to collide into the brick wall opposite of her.

Y/N gasped, wide eyes shooting from Jaehyun’s grumbling figure, hissing from the harsh landing, to Hwang Hyunjin who glared at him.

   “You’ve always been a chatterbox.” Hyunjin’s voice dripped with venom, a gaze of pure hatred crossing his expression, one that Y/N had never gotten a glimpse of.

   “Leave before I really embarrass you.” He warned.

Jaehyun groaned, attempting to retort with something, but the way Hyunjin stared him down, made him keep his mouth shut. Groaning to a stand, he shot Y/N a look of disdain, before he trudged back inside.

The back door closed with a slam, the steel echoing in the silence that settled.

Hyunjin looked up to meet Y/N’s wide eyes, his expression full of concern.

   “Are you okay?” He murmured, his eyes flitting over her to look for any signs of harm.

She found herself shaking her head, but still felt her legs falter.

A stumble that Hyunjin intercepted, his arms pulling her up to hold her against the brick walls. A grip tight, yet gentle all at once.

Once again, Y/N found her breath hitch, eyes widened. This time for entirely different reasons.

Good reasons.

She took in the sight of Hyunjin, so close. So different from whatever she’s seen of him the past few months. His complexion was tinged with a flush of red, perhaps from the drinks, maybe from the aggression that poured out of him only some minutes ago.

He let out his own deep breath, his eyes almost gentle as he looked down at her. Staring for what felt like seconds and years all at once.

   “I overheard. You…don’t have a boyfriend.” He muttered, although he was feeling relieved on his own.

Y/N blinked, trying to figure out what that had to do with any of this.

The taller man in front of her screwed his eyes shut for a split second, already regretting the words uttered.

   “No. Shit—Not what I wanted to say.” His hands fell away from her settling over the cool walls on either side of her, ears bright red from the closeness of their forms.

Y/N swallowed, waiting. Worried if she said something he would realize and pull away.

   “I don’t want to take advantage. I just—”

He searched for the right words, searched in her big eyes.

   “I just don’t want you leaving my sight. Ever.” He finally murmured, his voice just a whisper.

Y/N inhaled sharply, yet her voice betrayed her and spoke her thoughts with ease.

   “Okay.”

Hyunjin’s own eyes slowly grew bigger, letting her confirmation settle.

   “O...kay?”

Her lips curled into a soft smile, one he found his gaze lingering on. And only just a second later, after he processed her acceptance, yet before he could realize what he was doing, he had leaned in to kiss her.

It was a first-kiss kind of affection. The one that brought its own butterflies with it, a tinge of nervousness, yet often left behind awkwardness. 

Just like the silent awkwardness that settled between the two of them once he pulled away.

He thought he would apologize profusely for kissing her without asking, yet didn’t think she would kiss him back. Now suddenly lost. Suddenly wondering if he were to confess would she accept him.

Hyunjin fell back into his thoughts.

Like the first time when he wanted to approach her.

Yet couldn’t because he second-guessed.

Surely he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

   “I-I like you Y/N. M-maybe?" He suddenly found himself spluttering out instead.

   “Maybe?” She couldn’t help herself, almost responding instantly with a raised brow, easing the tension that had settled between them instantly.

   “No definitely. I do.” He instantly shook his head to clear the misunderstanding.

   “I like you. Alot.” Hyunjin nodded.

Y/N let out a chortle, teasing eyes darting over his expression.

   “I’d be worried if you kissed me without liking me even a little...” She murmured, although she was still trying to wrap her own mind about it all, she was squealing inside.

Hyunjin couldn’t help his own nervous laughter, the breathy sound settling between them, eyes shifting to one of his outstretched hands that still had her trapped between them, unsure of how to pull away without making it awkward again.

He’s kissed her in the heat of the moment, adrenaline, worry, pushing him to make such a bold move he wouldn’t have made in normal circumstances. But it seemed Y/N had a way of drawing out the most intense emotions within him without ever doing anything special. 

His cheeks burned, and he really wanted to kiss her again, eyes flicking back to meet hers, she who simply watched him battle his thoughts.

The nervousness was evident in the way his eyes shifted over her expression before finally locking into hers, a softness gleaming in them. He bit his bottom lip for a moment, before swallowing.

   “Can I kiss you?” Hyunjin whispered. “...Again?”

Y/N inhaled deeply, her lips parting to speak but unsure of what to say without breaking this pretty picture of Hwang Hyunjin gazing at her with such fond eyes. An expression she had never seen on him, yet the want to see it more often only grew by the second. 

More than the sharp stares, the narrowed brows. His poker faces, and intense gaze peering into hers whenever she turned and found him…watching. 

His eyes lingering.

A gasp escaped her lips, hands instantly flying to cup her mouth as the realization hit.

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed from confusion, a tinge of fear.

   “I…I’m the girl from the booklet writings?” Her shocked voice was muffled behind her fingers, eyes open wide.

Hwang Hyunjin’s words of infatuation fluttered through her mind. Every single one that made her wish they were about her, were in fact, all about her. For her. No one but her.

The dark-haired man who still had her settled between his arms, dropped his head to mask the shy smile that spread over his lips. Wondering when she figured it was his writings. He should be embarrassed, yet only found it endearing that she hadn’t pieced it together until now. Even after he had stolen a kiss.

His eyes met hers, standing straighter to bring one hand up and graze his finger on her cheek. His skin almost searing hot against hers.

   “Yes. My perfect painting.” He whispered, his lips curling into a wider smile.

Y/N reacted almost instantly to his confirmation, hand pulling him closer, lips crashing against his. The sudden collision made him stumble back a step before he found his arms wrapping around her, grounding their forms, while his mind floated away deeper into her kiss.

────────────────────────

   “—are these all the questions you have?” 

Both Y/N and the interviewer’s gazes settled on Hyunjin as he asked, eyes firm on the spectacled journalism student, who was a junior of the long-haired man, a once-Chronicles’ writer himself.

The couple were being interviewed for a new social column in their school newspaper. Reporting on campus couples, this column brought love stories for the romantics that had no interest in all the other jumble of articles in the Campus Chronicles. The newspaper Hyunjin used to write for before he landed his internship in sports entertainment earlier this year.

   “Do you think we need more?” The younger man asked.

Hyunjin thought for a moment with a hum.

   “Not more, maybe better ones? I’m sure you can be a little more politely intrusive. Ask for more juicy details to engage readers. Why not include a feature down the line about deeper topics. More focus on things like relationship obstacles, rather than how the couples got together—”

Y/N gripped at his arm, making him realize he was beginning to ramble, his junior scribbling in a rush as he tried to catch up.

Her lips widened into a grin as he awkwardly chuckled.

   “You would have thrived in this section.” Y/N teased, while the interviewer agreed more pointedly.

   “I think I do pretty well in sports. Besides—” His lips curled into a mischievous grin.

   “My words of love are only reserved for you.” He leaned in, whispering the latter part of his sentence to his girlfriend.

Y/N found herself flush instantly under his teasing eyes, her boyfriend pulling back to continue speaking to his junior as if she wasn’t melting into a puddle right next to him.

She couldn’t help but think about what he said. She wasn’t lying when she said he would thrive writing about romance. His love letters that he wrote her, journal entries about her, little scribbles of poetic lines that he left for her to find, would have easily captivated anyone if published. Would have easily had people fall in love with him, just as she had. A thought that irked her slightly from the jealousy, but also made her feel proud mostly.

   “What are you thinking?” Hyunjin poked her cheek, bringing her out of her thoughts, realizing that the journalism junior had already returned to his team and the photographer was waiting to capture the final picture.

   “I’m excited to read our story.” She beamed, her boyfriend hummed in response as he pulled her closer.

   “Me too.” His hands wrapped around her, settling over her front into a back-hug, her form flush against his chest.

The two grinned wide as they posed for the camera. Hyunjin’s head that was settled over her shoulder, turned slightly to catch a glimpse of her side profile, lingering eyes taking in her radiant expression as the shutter sound echoed in the air.

An image captured with a flash. 

The fan above him spun around with a loud creak, making more noise than giving him air. The environment was cold outside, winter still clinging onto the wind making a chill run down his spine amidst his worry for his friend. Hyunjin was far too reckless for his own good—why did he never listen to Minho? He was right after all. Doing that stupid skateboard stunt and now look what happened, Minho had to bring him to the hospital because he was almost a hundred percent sure he broke his leg.

“You're not a teenager anymore, Hyunjin,” Minho chided as Hyunjin paid him no heed, too excited to ride the skateboard that he found in the dusty boxes of his garage. Once upon a time, Hyunjin was really good at skateboarding. But it had been years since then. “At least do something normal?”

“Normal is for losers.”

He shook his head, not wanting to recount the sound of the sickening crack of the skateboard followed by his friend's wail of pain. A wave of goosebumps formed over his skin as he tried to focus on something else, like how he would tell him I told you so when he saw him about how he could be as dumb as he was seven years ago and watch him roll his eyes. He gazed at the branch of the sakura tree he could see outside the window, still bare from the snowy months.

The faint smell of soap followed by loud giggles pulled him away from his thoughts. He turned his head to the source of the sound, eyes falling on a couple young kids jumping up and down as they were surrounded by bubbles, dancing around a person sitting in a wheelchair. 

That was when he saw… you.

You blew another bout of the soapy spheres, the sunlight refracting through them creating tiny, diffused rainbows. Your eyes nearly turned into crescents, crinkling at the corners as you laughed along with the children, your smile so contagious he could feel the corners of his own lips tugging upwards. It was like the filter of his eyes changed, the world suddenly becoming more vibrant and colorful—just because of you. He didn't even notice the tube that ran along beneath your nose, the way you couldn't move your body beneath your waist, and the ill-fitting hospital gown you had on. 

Minho couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not even when a nurse approached him to inform him of Hyunjin's condition. A quick snap brought him out of his trance, his ears turning red along with his cheeks. He quietly got up and shuffled behind the nurse towards the room Hyunjin was resting in.

Over the next week, Minho visited the hospital twice a day to meet Hyunjin, once in the morning before work and once in the evening after work. A couple of their other friends came every now and then, but it was mostly just Minho.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

Not to be disrespectful to his friend but he wanted to see you without getting hounded by relentless teasing and possibly drive you away (not like he had ever spoken to you, no, this was all in his head).

There was something about you that drew Minho in, like a moth to a flame. Like he knew you from somewhere but he couldn't put a finger on it.

The following Sunday, the day Hyunjin was being discharged, Minho was there at the hospital. He was miserably failing at operating the water cooler to quench his parched throat, his ears turning pink from the effort of trying to find out why water wasn't coming out of the faucet when he turned the knob. 

“That thing has never worked,” a voice said from behind. You approached him in your wheelchair, a permanent smile on your face as you looked at him, hands folded in your lap.

“Oh…” He felt stupid. 

“Here you go,” you handed him a plastic water bottle, which he gratefully took and took a few gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I've seen you a lot around here, are you unwell?”

“Oh? No, no—my friend, he did something stupid and broke his leg. I didn't want to leave him alone.”

You nodded your head. “That's sad, is he okay?”

Minho nodded. “He's okay enough to talk my ear off.” He chuckled, to which you chuckled in return. A warm, fluttery feeling rose on his chest at the thought of him making you smile. “Thank you… for the water.”

“No problem. You looked like you were going to break that.”

“Was I?” His face flushed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly at your words. 

“What's your name?”

“Minho. What about you?”

“Y/n.”

Y/n… He liked that. He wanted to say something more, to keep talking to you so he could hear that voice of yours that made his heart tap dance in his rib cage when a group of kids ran up to you, talking over each other in excited giggles and shrieks. You laughed along with them as they tugged at your hand.

“I'm sorry, I'll see you again later?” He nodded quickly, forgetting that Hyunjin was going to be discharged, he had no reason to come back but you wanted him to come back, right? Or were you just being polite in front of the kids so he wouldn't be reduced into a pile of shame?

Despite his conflicting thoughts, he found himself visiting the hospital every day without fail, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of you and was surprised to see you waiting for him near the water cooler. That set your friendship in motion, talking endlessly every evening about anything and everything. The invisible red string that tied him to you brought him closer and closer. You were a siren and he was a sailor entranced by your voice.

The weather grew warmer, spring beginning to show itself in the trees and in the flowers. The snow covered roads were no longer a hassle to drive on and Minho could finally put away his boots, opting for a more comfortable pair of shoes for work and to visit you. Like clockwork, at five in the evening he switched off his computer, shoved his papers into his work bag and made a beeline for his car, no longer needing a map because he already knew the way.

You were there waiting for him in your room after he checked at the reception, eager to tell him more tales and funny stories, anecdotes of other patients and the kids you hung out with. Sometimes, you and him would talk for hours. Sometimes, you sat in silence, sketching away in your book while he sat beside you reading a book.

Minho showed you pictures of his three cats, which you fawned over almost immediately, cooing at the sight of the three kitties, making his heart melt. He wished he could bring them but he couldn't, so he showed you as many videos and photos as he could since they seemed to bring you immense joy.

Somedays, however, you could hardly sit up, laying down on the bed with a grimace on your face that you thought you could hide from him but he knew you were in pain. He was in pain, seeing you like that. You didn't mention it in your endless conversation, so he assumed you didn't like to talk about it.

He never asked you why you were in the hospital in the first place, why all the happiness drained out of your face when you tried to move in your wheelchair, why that tube sat above your pretty pink lips—he didn't see all that. He only saw you.

You and your wonderful smile.

You and your ability to light up his world.

You and the way you always made his heart skip a beat.

You and your beautiful eyes that he swore held galaxies inside, he could stare at them forever.

“I can't wait for the sakuras to bloom,” you said one day, the two of you sitting in the shade of a cherry blossom tree outside of the hospital. “It's my favorite part of the whole year.” But while you were looking at the budding pink blossoms, he was looking at your face.

He was falling. Falling hard. You were the first thought on his mind when he woke up and the last one when he went to sleep. He dreamed of you, sweet, little fantasies of spending the rest of his life with you.

He knew you better than himself, that you liked pancakes drowned in syrup and berries on top, that you loved a specific type of daisy called a gerbera daisy—a flower that looked as vibrant as you, you hated the thunder but loved the rain and were an amazing artist. Your dreams of becoming a painter and having something in the Louvre Museum in Paris, visiting the top of Tokyo Tower and swimming at the beach. It made you so happy to talk about them that it made him happy, grinning ear to ear as you animatedly explained all the details to him.

“Whoa, we were in the same class,” Minho said, eyes wide with shock as he looked at the yearbook in your hands. You were both on the topic of school when you found out that the place you were describing felt too similar. It was only when you talked about a certain math teacher, you realized it was the same person.

Minho dug through his old school things at home and found his yearbook, the insides of the cover scribbled with so many names of people whom he used to call friends.

It was funny how you two had crossed paths before but he had no recollection of you. He silently cursed at his past teenage self for not knowing you—then again, fate worked in different ways.

“Yeah, I was looking through it and I saw your face. Weird, right?” He nodded, looking at the photo of you from seven years ago. You looked almost exactly the same except now your hair had grown out much more. How had he never noticed you?

His feelings towards you only increased since then, to the point where they felt suffocating to bottle up inside him. Like a volcano waiting to erupt. He took one look at your face and zoned out, completely missing what you said and barely covering up when you asked him for his opinion. He had to bite his tongue every time he almost blurted out that sentence that was marinating in his brain.

I love you.

“You're down bad,” Hyunjin told him after Minho confessed to having feelings for you after he was confronted about his visits to the hospital for the past two months. “Like bad bad. I never thought I'd see you like this.”

“I like her,” Minho admitted again. “A lot. Now that I've known her I don't think I can go back to pretending she doesn't exist.”

“Then tell her.”

He paused. “Confess… to Y/n?”

Hyunjin let out an exasperated sigh, shifting his position on the couch. “Yes, Minho, proclaim your love to the woman you love.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“If you like her so much despite her problems, then it's worth a shot, don't you think? And I have a feeling she feels the same way.”

“You think so?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Only one way to find out.

Hyunjin was right. Minho should confess. No harm in doing that right? He picked out his best shirt, tucking it into his pants and looked at his reflection in the mirror, messing with his hair for a while before he gave up and let it be. He smoothed down the wrinkles in the crisp white shirt, wondering if he was too dressed up for this. He sprayed on some cologne that you had complimented the day he wore it and gave himself a pep talk as he drove to a flower shop.

Bright red gerbera daisies in hand, he took a few deep breaths in front of the hospital entrance. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, ready to fall at any moment. You would love to see them, he thought, smiling to see himself. If things went the way he wanted them to, he would bring you out here and sit at a bench, maybe get some ice cream from the cafeteria and watch the sakuras.

Minho steeled himself and walked inside, making his way to the front desk, a daily routine but today was different. His hair on the back of his neck was on end and his heart was beating uncomfortably loud in his chest.

“I'm here to see Y/n,” he told the receptionist. He was expecting her to tell him to go down the hallway, take the elevator up to your floor and go to your room as he did every day. He didn't expect the nurse to look up at him with a solemn face, a jolt of panic going through him even before she said anything.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Lee. She passed away earlier today. Her illness suddenly became worse and her body couldn't fight it.”

His heart dropped, along with the bouquet of red flowers in his hands. “What? But—but I was here yesterday… she was fine—how—” His vision blurred with tears as the nurse once again shook her head in sorrow. His ears rang loudly, hands gripping onto the countertop hard enough to make his knuckles white, his throat closing up as he felt like the whole world was crumbling in front of him. His heart was ripped out of his chest and trampled upon as the nurse explained to him and told him about your final resting place. She handed him an envelope, sealed with a sticker of a strawberry and his name written on the front in your handwriting.

He sat in his car and cried for a long time, his forehead resting on the steering wheel as sob after sob racked through his body. His throat ached and his eyes burned but he couldn't stop crying. The world became dull again, the happiness and light that you once brought gone. Even after he shed every last tear, heart squeezed dry and now hollow, he still couldn't will himself to drive away, couldn't make himself look at the envelope sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

Minho blasted the air conditioner and closed his eyes to take a few deep breaths but he was plagued by visions of you and the pain in his heart increased by tenfold. He didn't know how long he was sitting there in his car, but he did know that he could never tell you how much he loved you, how you made his life worth living and how he would cherish you with his whole heart for eternity.

Dear Minho,

I love you…

                    If you're reading this then… I must not be there anymore. Firstly, I want to thank you for making the last few months of my life so memorable. I loved every moment I spent with you and I wish I could've had many more… perhaps a lifetime more. Thank you for making me smile when my heart felt heavy, for making me laugh when I felt like crying, for showing me so much more love than I deserve. 

Second, I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you the full story of me, the reasons why I'm paralyzed below my waist, why I was so sick I could barely move sometimes. Because when you were there, I wanted to be happy. I didn't want to think about my illness, about the fact that I would die and I would leave you alone. It was too much to bear although I thought about it every night.

All those dreams I told you about? The biggest one I had was to be with you. This is the third thing I wanted to tell you, but I never had the chance because I was too much of a coward, is that I like you. No, I love you. I've loved you since we were in school. I recognized you in the hospital that day and you didn't, but I was so happy to see you again, although I wish you didn't have to see me in that state, lying on my deathbed.

I love you so much, Lee Minho. I wish we had more time together but I cherished every moment we had. I love you and I always will. And I hope you do too…

Forever,

The words in your letter were permanently etched into his brain, a painful reminder of your absence, of how oblivious he was to your reciprocated feelings. He couldn't move for a few days, lying in bed, alternating between crying and simply staring at the ceiling, memories of you playing in his head again and again like a broken record he never wanted to fix.

Y/n.

Minho didn't visit you until Sunday, not wanting to believe the harsh reality of you not being with him anymore. He did his best to hide any remnant of his red eyes and puffy face, dressed in the shirt you liked and bought red gerbera daisies once again to see you. He had to look good… for you.

It took him a while to find you, but there you were.

In loving memory of a loving daughter and dear friend Y/n L/n

(25.03.1999  -  10.04.2024)

“Hey,” his voice cracked. He stubbornly tried to blink the tears forming in his eyes. Minho bit his lip, kneeling down to place the flowers in front of the tombstone and brushing some dirt off of the granite. “I miss you.” A wobbly smile formed on his face, he could see your face, a teasing glint in your eyes as you poked fun at him. He sniffled, turning away to wipe his eyes. “And you never gave me the chance to tell you that… that I love you too. I was nervous and now I'm too late… I'm sorry, Y/n—” He choked on his words and stood up. “I would do anything to get you back…”

There was a cool breeze, ruffling his hair. He thought it was you and closed his eyes, imagining it was your hands carding through his air. He felt something fall on him—cherry blossoms. The wind carried them in a delicate dance, surrounding him and you in a flurry of pink petals.

“The sakuras are blooming,” he smiled sadly.

But you weren't here to see it.

The drive home was silent. Minho didn't put the radio on, half focused on the idle roads and darkening horizon. The cherry blossoms trees all over the city were blooming, he noticed, as his car stood idle at a red light. He believed a part of him died along with you. You were his soulmate, that's what he liked to believe. You were connected in more ways than one, destiny pulling on your strings to get you close and then snip the thread at the last second.

The light turned red. He changed the gear and moved forward.

It all happened too fast, the rev of another car coming in from his side at a speed double that of the limit, him noticing too late as the front crashed to his left, his head flying into the window and breaking the glass into shards that wedged into his skin.

Minho's head shot up. Was he dead? Did he die in that car crash? His head was killing him, a throb coming from deep inside his brain, making him wince and hold his head. But there was no blood on his hands when he pulled away. How was that possible?

And then everything went black. 

“Are you okay?” He looked up. Hyunjin was approaching him along with a few other people he recognized as—Bang Chan, Han Jisung and… Kim Seungmin? He hadn't spoken to the last one since high school. “I think it hit you really hard.”

“What do you mean, I was in a—” He halted in his tracks. “What are you wearing?” Minho's eyes were trained on the gray blazer he was wearing, a gold pin affixed on the lapel. Underneath was a navy blue waist coat and a white shirt collar peeking above.

Hyunjin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“No,” he let out something that was a mix of a laugh and a scoff. “Why are you wearing that? Are you pulling my leg?”

“My… uniform?”

“Yah… Minho, did you hit your head that hard?” Jisung laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder, making him bend. 

“Of course I did, I—”

His mind clicked. They were standing on a field. Not just any old field—their school play field where they used to play soccer every day after class. There was laughter and yells ringing all around him. Hyunjin, Jisung, Chan and Seungmin, even Minho himself were wearing the same clothes. Gray blazer, white shirt, gray slacks and the gold pin. Some were wearing navy blue waistcoats and a tie, but it was the same thing from seven years ago.

“This isn't funny, why are we here?” This had to be some joke, courtesy of Jisung. He was a prankster but this was taking it too far.

“Minho, are you sure you're okay? Do you need to go to the nurse?” Chan had worry written all over his face. 

Minho glanced at each of them, getting more and more confused by the second. His eyes flitted down to his clothes and back up, at the other students, the school building and back to his friends.

“Maybe he has a concussion,” Seungmin quipped. “I told those rugby guys to take it down a notch.”

Those words sounded familiar. A sense of deja vu washed over him, his hair pricking on end and a light bulb went off in his head.

This did happen before.

“Hey, Lee Minho… you're scaring me,” Hyunjin's hand held his left bicep and shook him.

“This happened before… Why am I here? I graduated school seven years…” He muttered underneath his breath.

“What are you saying? I think we need to take you to the nurse—”

Minho cut Chan off. “Today… what is today's date?”

“April 10th, why—”

“The year, Seungmin.”

“2017—”

The air was knocked out of his lungs. He was in the past. Seven years in the past. He was still in his last year of high school, liked playing soccer, never wore the uniform correctly, was still friends with Kim Seungmin—

“Y/n…” 

You would be alive. If he was right, and he was somehow transported back in time to when he was in school, you would be alive. You would be okay, not lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, waiting for your illness to consume you. 

He had another chance.

“Y/n? You mean from our class? Why d—”

Minho leaped at Hyunjin, eyes blazing with determination. He held his shoulders as he spoke again. “Where is she?”

“I think she was leaving—”

That was all Minho needed to know. He quickly grabbed his bag and bolted down the field, onto the pavement that led to the main gate. He could hear his friends calling for him, they were undoubtedly confused with his behavior, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was make sure you were alive. He spotted a girl walking, a backpack slung over her back.

There was only one way he could find out.

“Y/n?” He called, hoping he wasn't making a fool of himself in front of someone else.

The girl turned and his heart stopped.

It was you, a younger version of you, the one from the yearbook, looking at him with a confused tilt of your head. He could see your lips move, saying his name probably but he couldn't hear it. There was a gust of wind, the breeze urging him to surge forward and he did, colliding into your body and embracing you tightly. His breaths were uneven, tears forming in his eyes as he rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair.

“You're okay…” He squeezed you tighter.

You were the first one to pull away, your cheeks tinted pink. You couldn't meet his eyes. “Why did you do that? Is something wrong, Minho? Of course I'm okay…”

Minho felt something fall on his shoulder. A sakura. The cherry blossoms trees were blooming, showering the two of you in a cascade of pink petals. His eyes searched yours but he could only see bewilderment. A relieved laugh escaped him. He squatted to the ground and covered his face with his hands.

He got another chance.

Another chance with you.

He looked back up at you and felt a multitude of emotions bubble up in him, but the main one was love.

“Yeah, you're okay…”

 You're acting weird.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Wh—”

“Answer the question, please.”

“Sure, but—”

“Great.”

Minho was all smiles, he couldn't stop it. His heart was beating out of his chest as he walked alongside you, gripping onto the strap of his bag, his ears turning pink every time your shoulders brushed his. He was beyond happy, relieved, excited all at the same time. He tried to fill the silence of the walk by asking you questions like how your day had gone, what you ate for lunch, and if he could walk home with you every day.

You were completely flustered and confused, he could see that. It must be weird for you for him to come talk out of nowhere. He remembered that you had liked him since high school, so that means this would work out. He just had to act normal and make sure he would change your fate and his, to make sure that you would be with him forever.

“This is me,” you awkwardly gestured to the house the two of you had stopped in front of.

Minho nodded, feeling a little upset that you had to go away too soon. “Right… Well, I'll see you tomorrow?”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Minho. Get home safe.”

“I will,” he grinned and waved goodbye before he set for his house, turning around one last time to see you on the porch of your house doing a happy dance which made him laugh, his face flushing red.

You were okay.

And so was he.

It took him a while to find his own house from the unfamiliar neighborhood he was in. He missed living in his parent's place, with his mother's home-cooked food that hadn't eaten in ages. When was the last time he visited his mom and dad? He eagerly went up to the door and opened it, the familiar sight of the entryway making him nostalgic. 

“Someone's all smiles today,” his mom said with a chuckle, watching him untie his shoes and put on his house slippers. His mother looked younger than he had last seen her, wearing a cardigan he remembered she said that had shrunk in the washing machine. It was brand new now. “Did you have a good day today, sweetheart?”

“The best. I'll be in my room,” he said, almost tripping over his two feet in giddiness as he went up the stairs to his bedroom. It looked exactly the same as he used to have it. He threw his bag onto the floor and then himself onto his bed, breathing in the smell of the detergent on the bed sheets.

“This is crazy,” he said to himself. If all of this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Maybe he was in a coma from the car crash, but it all felt too real. He remembered this day happening before, getting hit in the head by a rugby ball, Seungmin chiding the guys who were playing with it. This was obviously not a prank, everyone looked younger and were befuddled, looking at him like he was nuts. 

He time traveled. Actually time traveled back to the past, to save you.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He even had his old phone.

Hyunjin : Minho, you're okay right? You were acting really weird.

Minho : Yeah, I'm fine. I think it I got hurt more than I thought I did

Hyunjin : Okay 🤨

Hyunjin : Why did you run off like that though? You don't even talk to Y/n and suddenly you were acting as if she was on the verge of death?

Minho : I just needed to check something.

Hyunjin : You're weird. Get some sleep and don't be late tomorrow again or Seung's going to kill you.

Minho : I won't 🙄

He was back in 2017. He was a teenager again. 

“This is so cool…”

It was something straight out of a movie. Minho felt like he was living in a fever dream, being able to relive his adolescence. Since he knew how much he could lose, he made sure to make this second chance worth it. Instead of skipping meals and eating from the vending machine, he scarfed down whatever delicious meal his mother made, making both of his parents laugh at his sudden switch in behavior. 

“Eat slowly, or you'll choke,” his dad said with a chuckle when Minho piled on more food and eagerly shoved it down his throat.

He took the opportunity to join a dance class like he did when he was a kid, knowing that he regretted not doing it years later.

Instead of wasting away in class and being moody, he studied—tried to study. 

Then again, he had you to help. Y/n, the wise one, he teased when the two of you sat together in the library during lunch on the premise of studying, but you mostly ended up laughing so hard the librarian kicked the two of you out. 

He spent more time with his friends, doing everything he was bitter about later in life.

Months passed by like this. Minho woke up in his bed every day, was greeted by his 2PM posters on his wall, ate breakfast with his parents and went to school, daydreamed about you in class much to the suspicions of his friends and walked home with you. He had to make sure nothing happened to you that would derail his plan for the perfect future.

“Do you like Y/n?” Hyunjin asked during lunch one day, pulling a chair out in front of him with a loud scraping noise. It was autumn, the air much colder in the mornings than it was a few weeks ago. The cherry blossom trees were barren, awaiting spring to bloom once more. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Hyune,” Minho greeted and continued to eat his lunch.

“Don't deflect my question. Do you like her or not?”

“And if I do?”

Hyunjin's eyes went so big Minho thought they'd fall right out of their sockets. “Seriously?”

“Why is it that interesting to you?”

“Oh, this is a golden opportunity.” Hyunjin leaned forward on his elbows on the desk.

“Why are you so interested in my love life?”

“Please, the last time you admitted to having a crush, it was on the idol singer Lee Hyori. I have a right to be curious.” Minho rolled his eyes, but he was a bit flustered. He still hadn't thought of how he would take the relationship with you to the next level. The last time he planned to confess… well, that didn't end well. “What do you like about her? She's pretty, I get that. And she's really good at art, and she's smart—”

“Have you made your point?” He raised a brow.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh. “You're so mean, Lee Minho.” He hit his shoulder lightly. “I'm just saying this, okay? But I accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation her friends were having—an accident, okay? And I think I heard Y/n's name and doctor in the same sentence.”

Minho choked, his face turning red as he coughed and picked up his water bottle to drink some water and took big gulps of air afterwards. “What?”

Hyunjin's words haunted him the whole day and then the next day because you weren't coming to school nor were you answering his texts. He was trying hard to not look desperate but he was grasping at straws. 

His mother had the worst timing when she sent him to pick up some things from the store, a loud crack of thunder and the pitter patter of raindrops beginning the second he stepped into the convenience store. He grabbed the things he needed as well as an umbrella, purchasing all of them at the register before standing outside underneath the umbrella.

The weekend rolled around and he was getting worried. What if Hyunjin was right and you had gotten into an accident? The same accident that caused you to... No, it couldn't be.

That was when he caught the familiar sight of your form, crouching on the side of the road next to a small ball of fluff. The umbrella you were using barely covered you as you were instead shielding a pair of kittens and cooing at them.

Minho's heart leaped in his chest, legs moving on their own towards you and standing right next to you, covering you with his own umbrella. You looked up and then at him, a smile breaking out on your face but this time he didn't return it.

“What happened to you? You disappeared for two days and Hyunjin said you went to a doctor and you weren't responding to me—”

“Whoa, Min, breathe,” you chuckled and stood up. “What doctor? I'm fine. I did go to the dentist though—”

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Oh.”

You laughed. “Were you worried about me?”

“Of course I was,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat and looked away from you, heart dancing in his ribcage. He'd planned to do this once before but standing in front of you, all the courage drained right out of him and he was left as a puddle of nerves. “So why didn't you come to school afterwards then?”

“I was sick.”

“You were sick. And you were out here standing in the rain for two cats?” He shook his head. “Hold this.” He pushed the umbrella he was holding into your hands and quickly shed his jacket, putting it over your shoulder and pulling the hood over your head, using it to try and dry your hair. “You're going to get sick again…” His hands stopped at the sides of your face, lips parting as he looked into your eyes.

“Thank you…” Your face was also turning red at the proximity between the two of you that he just noticed. 

Minho swallowed the lump in his throat. Now or never. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I couldn't tell you this before because I was too scared but now I know how much I have to lose—”

“What are you saying, Min —”

“Just let me finish, okay?” He took a deep breath, pushing a stand of wet hair out of your face. “I… I like you, Y/n. I love you. For a really long time, longer than you think.”

He waited with bated breath for your answer. “I like you too, Minho. I've liked you for a while now.”

He couldn't wait anymore. It was obviously too forward of him, but he'd been dreaming of this for way too long and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers again. He pulled your face towards his and crashed his lips onto yours. You let out a muffled sound of surprise but you reciprocated it, the umbrella falling out of your hands and onto the ground with a thud. Your arms rested on his shoulders while his drifted down to your waist, holding you in an embrace as he tenderly kissed you. Fireworks went off inside him. He could feel the thundering of your heart right above his. The two of you were soaked from the relentless rain, but he could care less.

He broke the kiss, forehead leaning on yours as he took a few breaths. “Sorry, I just really wanted to do that…” It was a half baked apology since he wasn't very sorry at all. His eyes were closed, taking in the intimacy of the moment.

“I liked it, don't worry. Just warn me next time, okay?”

Minho couldn’t help but tease you. “Oh so you want a next time?” He laughed loudly when you hit his arm. “Of course there will be a next time, I plan on giving you many many kisses,” he planted another one on your forehead to prove his point. He closed his eyes again and hugged you tightly.

Minho's head felt like it was splitting in two. Where was he? He blinked his eyes open, the white light above him causing him to groan. His clothes didn't feel wet anymore and he was laying down, a white blanket over him. He lifted his hand up, only to see it was bandaged.

“Why—”

Memories of the car crash flooded his mind and a flash of panic went through him. “No, no, no, no, no—” Was that really just a dream? Were you really gone? He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, chest heaving up and down until—

“Thank God you're awake,” he felt a hand brush the hair off of his forehead, the voice sounding too much like yours. But it couldn't be. All of that was in his imagination. 

Then you came into focus, your face filled with worry, eyes pink like you'd been crying for a while.

“Y-Y/n?” He lifted his bandaged hand up to your cheek. He needed to know you were real. He let out a sob of relief when he felt the warmth of your skin beneath his palm and then your own hand covering his. “You're here…”

“Of course I'm here, silly. Where else would I be?”

He pulled you onto him, tucking your head into his chest and kissed the top of your head as a few tears rolled down his cheek. “Thank goodness.” He held you like that for a while, taking in the comforting scent of your perfume mixed in with the smile of your shampoo. “What happened?”

“The car crash… you don't remember?”

“That happened?”

“Yeah, the doctor said you had a concussion. You weren't waking up… I was so scared.”

His heart broke at your words. “I'm never leaving you, never ever. You can't get rid of me that easily.” You let out a broken laugh and clung onto him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Minho was discharged a few days later. The doctor said he might experience temporary amnesia due to his head trauma and that he'd regain his memories soon. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened. He'd managed to save you. You were here with him.

The two of you took a stroll in the park, hand in hand, underneath the cherry blossoms trees. “Hey, Y/n?” He said softly, making you turn to him with a soft hum. “I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too, Minho.”

That was all he needed to hear. A breeze shook the branches of the trees and the sakuras fell once again. He squeezed your hand and continued to walk alongside you as the pink petals and flowers showered on him, and this time, you were by his side. Where you were meant to be.

The carriage stopped, and Jisung didn't wait for the coachman to open the door before jumping out. He was late, and although it wasn't unusual, his old friend Minho would kill him if he didn't show up on time.

He didn't bother to look at his pocket watch as he walked the cobblestone path of the Lee manor's entrance, hands clenched into fists, and flashed a quick, apologetic smile at the housekeeper who opened the door for him before his fingers caressed the metal knocker. Her eyes, wrinkled with years, narrowed into two crescent moons at the sight of him, a smile curved with amusement: she had watched him grow up, had memorised his habits. The Lord Han she knew would never have arrived on time, even if he had wanted to.

Jisung hurried inside, giving her a brief grin as he felt the housekeeper taking the hat from his head to put it away, and paused for a moment to take a deep breath of air. The hall was empty, the only source of noise being the bustle coming from the kitchen, and Jisung knew that the guests had already been moved to the garden. According to the thorough planning that characterised his friend's mother, the gathering on the beautiful outdoors patio would lead to a long-awaited ‘welcome home’ meal, and Minho would surely notice his absence.

Shit.

He hurried through the hallways, the rustle of the fabric of his pants like a steady tune that followed the firm thuds of his footsteps on the marble floor, the soundtrack of a march that haunted him until he reached the big blue room. He had spent many afternoons playing with Minho in that place, scampering around the sofas and the servants, sneaking in and out to wallow in the grass, and he could almost feel the tightness in his throat closing up, as if he had just run with his friend to the oak tree by the lake and back.

He stood in the doorway, taking a deep breath to calm the erratic beating of his heart, flattening the lapels of his suit jacket against his chest. He wanted to think that the shaking in his hands was the effect of a day too cold and a coat not thick enough, but the weather had changed in the last few weeks and there was no snow left that hadn't melted. Jisung closed his eyes. He knew it was a side effect of his lack of social skills. He just didn't know why he kept arriving late to places when it made him so uncomfortable to have to enter a room full of people totally alone.

Then he realised that on that occasion it was the garden that was full of people, and he was the one who remained in a room, and he chuckled, shaking his head. What an idiot. He would be fine. Plus, he knew the Lee family—it wasn't going to be that bad.

Jisung opened the glass door carefully, almost afraid of shutting himself in, though he was not sure whether he was terrified of not being capable of getting out or of being unable to get in, and measured his steps as he made his way out into the courtyard. The first to notice his presence was Lady Lee, Countess of Gimpo, and on her face was drawn a beautiful toothy smile that Jisung could not help but mirror on his own lips, walking towards her when she quickly gestured for him to approach her.

The Countess ignored the panicked face of the butler, who should have announced Jisung as soon as he had arrived, and instead greeted him effusively and affectionately, pleased with his answers, his easy laughter and the myriad of promises about organising a gathering with his own mother as soon as possible.

Minho and his family had been travelling during the coldest months of the year, and now that the first rays of sun heralded warmer days in its most comforting form, they had finally returned, to enjoy the few months of heat before the new courting season began. And Jisung couldn't wait to hug his best friend again, even if it meant putting up with all the jokes about the experience he had gained in Europe and how little he had been missed. It was part of who Minho was, all the teasing, the sharp smirks, and the least he could do was get to his welcome back event on time, which… Well, he hadn't been able to do.

Lady Lee's attention gradually slid from her son's friend to the man she had been chatting with before, and Jisung took it as the signal to withdraw, offering a respectful bow towards them and walking away. He tried to —finally— find Minho in the crowd, but there was so much hustle and bustle and so many people that he felt overwhelmed, nervousness creeping back into his system, so he decided to wander to the margins of the patio, where waiters were standing by with trays, ready to serve the dishes as soon as the lunch was announced.

From the outside it was much easier to find Minho, distinguishing his broad shoulders among the people, moving in laughter at his companion's words. He smiled, recognising every curve of his best friend's back, the confidence in his posture, the heat rising to his cheeks as Jisung realised how big Minho had become, and saw the soft waves of his dark hair move in rhythm with his laughter. And he saw you, the companion, giggling too, covering your mouth with an expert twist of your fan, your cheeks flushed, in front of Minho. And when you looked at him, for a minute he forgot how to breathe.

Because looking into your eyes was like listening to a melody. He could hear the quartet that Minho's mother had chosen for the event playing from the little wooden platform by the lake, but it was a completely different tune than that. Your gaze, cheerful and serene, sang of mischievous breezes swaying the treetops at will, of dances without music barefoot on the grass and of the warm rays of the sun kissing your skin. You brought the spring with you, that spring that filled him with life and hope after a harsh winter, and as he lost himself in your shinny pupils, standing among the multitude, he wondered how his heart had been able to beat until that moment when it hadn’t had you to beat for.

“Hey, Ji!” Minho called his name, following your gaze, and approaching him in a couple of steps, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

Minho was dry in words, but his actions showed clearly enough how he truly felt.

Jisung's body reacted with the force of habit, relaxing into his hold with a quiet sigh, letting himself be embraced by the soothing warmth of Minho’s arms, but immediately tightening his grip on him, as if he was afraid that he would get back on that ship with the sudden desire to travel again. He couldn't allow it, he wouldn’t, at least for a long time. Unless they went together, that is. And after one last squeeze he let him step away, Jisung's hand firm on Minho's back, as Lee's only son turned to you.

“This is Lord Han, as I told you,” he explained, and you bowed before him, lowering your head with a lingering smile curving your lips. Jisung wanted to kiss that smile into his mouth, but he cleared his throat instead, trying to fill his mind with other —more appropriate— thoughts.

“Milady here wanted to visit our city,” he continued, offering his hand to you, waiting for you to rest it over his, and squeeze it with a familiarity that made Jisung’s heart sting, “so I proposed to her to travel back with us and stay for a while. She was the girl I told you about in my last letter.”

The last letter that had arrived that morning, and that he hadn't read because he was arriving late.

“Then you were absolutely right, my brother,” Jisung uttered, his words withering in his tongue as he linked the word ‘propose’ between you and Minho, “you were going on a trip to try and find beautiful views out there in the world. You truly discovered the most breathtaking one.”

Minho gave Jisung a playful punch on the shoulder, his chest filling with pride, ready to affirm any compliment his friend could mutter about you, but he stopped when he saw you addressing Jisung, your voice delicate and honeyed, still hidden behind your fan. 

“My lord really praised your composer skills during our trip here,” you whispered, averting your magnetic gaze from his as if you were having trouble bearing the knowledge that Jisung was observing you, completely stunned, but also desperate to continue any kind of conversation with you. “He forgot to add how much of a gentleman you were.”

But just before either of you could utter a single word, you heard Lady Lee drowning out a terrified shout, standing by the terrace, completely overpowered, and a spark of furious orange fur running across the grass like a shooting star in the darkest night. Minho gasped, and Jisung knew. His cat.

You were the one who took the initiative, unaware of the startled glares, smashing your fan into Minho's chest and grabbing the hem of your dress in one swift move. Before Jisung could realise he was chasing after you, both of you followed the mischievous creature at a fast pace, ignoring the calls of the rest of the men at the event. Jisung stared at your back, starstruck, breathing caught in his throat as he realised you were faster than him, heart rate increasing every second that passed in his hasty run. The only thing he could comprehend was that it wasn't the first time he had dealt with Minho's cats, that they knew him, and that for them you were a stranger. It would be his fault if the animal got stressed in your presence and ended up hurting you.

The hurried race took you both to the forest adjacent to the Lee property, and by the time Jisung spotted your figure among the foliage, he froze. Your elaborate bun had come loose, your flowing hair falling over your shoulders, and you had your dress pulled too far up your thighs, fully prepared to climb the tree where Soonie was waiting, curious about what you were doing.

Jisung couldn't think. He didn't know if you had heard him arrive, if you had even been aware that he had chased after you, but he didn't care. He could only focus on the smooth skin he was witnessing —more than he had ever seen in his life— contrasting with the darker colour of your dress. You didn’t seem uncomfortable being barefoot, your low heels abandoned among the thick roots of the weeping willow, one foot resting on a gap between the folds of the robust trunk and your hands holding tightly to the lowest branches.

It would be difficult to reach Soonie, he thought, because its branch, although low, was too thin for a human, even dangerous with the way it was located above the lake. Jisung could understand why the cat had chosen that tree. He also liked the way its leaves swayed in the wind, and it really did look like a giant feline toy, but Soonie and his two brothers already had scratching toys and little houses in the manor, all handmade by Minho. The adventure had to end before something went wrong.

He had wanted to warn you of his presence, but a leaf creaked under his boots, alerting you, scaring you, and making you lose focus on your tightrope walk along the branch below Soonie's. You lost your balance completely, and Jisung saw your hands trying to grab onto something, anything, before falling into a loud splash on the edge of the lake. Jisung would have laughed if his heart hadn't jumped in his chest, if you had been someone else, if he wasn't so deeply scared that you were seriously hurt.

Jisung stated in his place, paralysed for a second. He would have laughed, if his heart hadn't jumped in his chest, if you had been someone else, if he wasn't so deeply scared that you were seriously hurt.

He rushed over to where you were, mumbling a string of “I'm sorry’s” as you quickly emerged from the water, taking a breath of oxygen, desperately holding onto the hand Jisung was offering you. Your hair formed spirals in the water, floating around you, just like your dress. The water was up to Jisung's waist, but he felt so overstimulated that he wasn't able to process how he had just gotten his pants wet. All he could think about was that your gloves had torn, and that he was touching your skin, the soft but bloody skin of your outstretched hands, and that you were so close he could feel your rapid breathing against his body.

He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the thoughts that were popping into his head, and pulled you lightly so you could stand up. Only instead of getting angry with him, blaming him for spying on you, your lips curved into a smile, and you let out a crystalline laugh, closing your eyes and relaxing your shoulders in front of him. You were the picture of happiness, cheeks still rosy and your chest rising and falling against the corset at full speed. Even he felt on edge, with adrenaline bubbling against his ribcage.

“There’s no need to be sorry, lord Han” you whispered under your breath, your eyes falling over him, Soonie purring above your heads. “It was a funny accident. I shouldn't have tried to climb so high.”

You weren't apologizing for running away, Jisung noticed, and he couldn't help but widen his smile at it. He was getting lost in your gaze again, too captured by you, and everything was going too fast. He didn't know if it was good or bad, but he didn't want to stop. At least until he realised that you were getting goosebumps, and the first shiver ran through you. He cursed himself for not having acted sooner, and helped you out of the lake with difficulty, the ground on the shore completely muddy under your bare feet and his heavy boots.

Jisung avoided looking at you as he turned slightly to take off his expensive suit jacket, ready to give it to you, but when he turned to offer it to you, he saw that you were removing your dress. He rushed to put his jacket over your shoulders before you could continue, shame creeping up his neck and leaving a trail of blush in its wake, and you flashed a mischievous smile, fully aware of it.

“I’m not going to end up naked in front of you, lord Han” you assured him, grabbing the thick fabric of your dress and leaving it on the grass, the figure of your body crafted by the thin white nightgown you wore underneath, before snuggling into Jisung's warm black blazer, “you should court me before we get there.”

Your words snapped Jisung out of the haze he was in, suppressing the urge he had to run his hands along your arms to help you warm up, and he picked up your dress and shoes from the floor, keeping his hands well occupied. He was a gentleman, he shouldn't… He had to involve you both in situations appropriate for a young lady like you. Not in an improvised swim, where you were going to end up so... God, so delicate and delicious, looking at him that way.

But he couldn’t. He couldn't continue with that train of thought. Not when everyone knew where you were, when Soonie was judging you two among the roots of the tree, approaching Jisung with the confidence of having found a familiar human. Before he could get any closer, you crouched down, holding out your fingers so he could smell them. It took a suspicious look and realising that Minho's cologne was still soaked in your skin to accept being held in your arms, sticking to your body to provide you with more warmth.

Jisung had to remember to buy Soonie more treats the next time he visited Minho.

“Are you coming?” you asked, oblivious to the way the vision you were was killing Jisung inside, you in his jacket, with that cheeky smile, your hair a wet mess, but still looking so beautiful.

Still, he nodded, treasuring every second in his memory. One look, and you had cast a spell on him. He would follow you wherever you asked as long as you were the one to guide him. He felt like he was in the verge of a cliff, knowing you now held his heart in your hand as easily as you had taken Minho's cat, knowing that if you broke it it would hurt more than a bad cut with a rusty knife. He had fallen catastrophically, but he was sure it would be a pleasure to be irrevocably yours if you'd let him.

You were currently lying under your best friend Felix, your legs wrapped around him and his cock buried deep inside your heat. It wasn't the first time he needed the closeness and the comfort and you were happy to be of service, letting him seek your warmth.

You were scrolling on your phone as he almost fell asleep on top of you but then you shifted just a little, making him groan into your neck.

"Y/n." he whined before lifting up and looking at you. You tossed your phone aside and gave him a smirk.

"Spread your legs." his voice was dark and a shiver ran up your spine, doing as you were told.

Felix started to move slowly, fucking your stretched wet pussy, his eyes rolling back at the feeling as he grunted.

You gasped, letting out a string of moans as you clutched onto him.

"Did you cockwarm the other guys like this, hm?" he asked, dragging his cock through your walls.

"Mm, yeah." you whimpered when his tip hit your spot.

"Tell me how you did it." Felix wrapped one hand around your neck, his other squeezing on your breast.

"I- I cockwarmed Hyunjin while he was painting." you started.

"Yeah? Did you let him fuck you?" Felix pinched your nipple, making you whine as he still fucked into you with languid movement.

"Yes. He bended me over his table and fucked me hard." you bit on your lip, your pussy clenching around Felix's length.

"Who else?" he smirked, pulling his cock almost completely out before rocking back into you harder, making you moan.

"C-Chan." you whimpered. "In the studio."

"Mhm." he squeezed your neck a little and you gasped, lifting your middle up to meet his thrusts.

"Did he fuck you good after that?"

"He fucked me so good." you whimpered as Felix gripped your thighs, pushing your knees up to your shoulders.

"And Changbin?"

"I cockwarmed him with my mouth." you confessed and Felix twitched inside you, the image of you kneeling with your mouth stuffed full of Changbin's cock made him weak.

"I bet you liked your little mouth stretched around him, hm?" Felix gripped the flesh on the back of your thighs as he fucked you a little harder, your pussy so warm and wet around him.

"I loved it." you whined, nails digging into the mattress under you.

"What about last night? I heard you and Seungmin." Felix smirked, increasing his speed and making you even more wet, the squelching sounds of your pussy filling up the room.

"He fucked me from behind. I even let him put it in my ass." you whimpered at the memory.

"Damn, you really are just a little slut, aren't you?" Felix groaned, rocking his hips into yours and making you moan as you clenched hard around him.

"I am." you confirmed, biting on your lip.

"Tell me more." Felix demanded, fucking you harder and making your head spin.

"I fucked Jeongin this morning."

"Yeah? Did you ride him like a good girl?"

"I did." you whimpered, so close to release.

"You wanna cum, slut?" Felix grinned, his fingertips grazing your sensitive clit.

"Y-yes, please!" you moaned.

"Cum around me." he ordered, flicking your clit as he kept fucking into you hard.

"Ah, Felix!" you fell apart, exploding around him as he kept fucking you through your high and chasing his own.

"You want my cum, slut?" he panted and you gasped, gripping onto his arms.

"P-please!"

"Fuck, I know you love to be stuffed by all eight of us. Want us to breed this greedy little pussy?" Felix grunted, fucking you so hard that you came around him once again.

"Yes I do!" you cried out and he exploded, ropes od warm cum filling you up.

"Minho told me to stretch you good for him today." Felix breathed hard before pulling out.

"Mm." you whimpered at the emptiness but that was soon replaced by four of his fingers pushing inside your fucked out pussy.

"So, I'm not done with you yet. You're gonna take it like a good slut until Minho comes to fuck you." he smirked at your teary eyes as he continued fucking you hard with his fingers.

You whined, spreading your legs more, happy to be used by all eight of your best friends.

A moment later, Hyunjin breaks the silence and brings his face to yours, “I love you,” he mumbles as he stares at your eyes, running his fingers gently up and down your back.

“And I love you,” you reply with a smile, returning the gaze.

Hyunjin smiles and then lowers his face until his lips slot against yours for a kiss. His lips feel like velvet, so soft and smooth. You’ve always loved his lips, how they feel on your lips, your skin, how they worship your body, every inch. You savor how he moves them with yours, caressing you like a delicate flower.

The music plays, the time goes on but your lips stay slotted to his, moving as one, neither one of you in a rush. Hyunjin moans against you, licking your bottom lip to ask for entrance, which you grant. His tongue tangles with yours for a heated kiss and he slowly humps into you, his hardened cock pressing into your core. You feel a twinge of pleasure flow through your body, traveling down to your core where you feel your slick slowly trickle out into your panties.

You feel incredibly turned on and most would make fun of how you get just from kissing your lover, but you love how he feels against you and how he makes you feel with just his plush lips.

You’re not sure how much time has passed with your passionate exchange with Hyunjin, but he leans back and stares at you. You take in his flushed cheeks and dilated eyes and how his lips appear swollen and tinged red. You reach your hand up to touch the flesh and Hyunjin presses a tiny kiss to the digit causing you to smile at the simple action.

Hyunjin gets up and shuffles in front of you, urging you to lay on your back. You do so immediately, willing to do whatever your lover asks without question. Hyunjin sets a pillow under his chest and reaches for your sleep shorts just to pull them down your legs. You hold your breath as he parts your legs and locks his gaze on your panties, soaked through with your arousal.

“So wet,” Hyunjin says as he looks up into your eyes.

“Always wet for you,” you moan as you keep eye contact with him.

Hyunjin smiles and gets comfy on his stomach. He begins to slowly rub your thighs down your legs and back up again. He repeats this motion again and again, his eyes on your face taking in how your breath hitches as he gets close to your core. He can feel the heat radiating and he is dying to see your pussy, taste your slick. But, he’s learned that patience is always best in these moments as he’s rewarded with the prettiest sight and sounds from the one he loves most.

He leans forward to press a kiss to your panties, again and again, right over your clit until you’re squirming, whining, begging him to push them to the side and devour you. However, Hyunjin continues kissing you, loving how much wetter you’re getting, so much so he can see the lips of your pussy and your cute, little clit through the fabric.

Finally, he licks a long swipe through your covered folds, tasting your arousal and lapping it up. He pokes his tongue against your entrance, prodding it through the fabric as his nose brushes against your clit with each thrust. He lets out a sigh as your fingers drift through his hair, the feeling heavenly as he tastes his most favorite thing in this world.

He’s driving you insane, teasing you over your panties, not touching you where you want him most. You have hope that he will give in and wrap his plush lips around your clit, but instead he presses them to your thighs, leaving wet kisses along the flesh. He makes his way down until he gets to your knee before switching sides to give it equal attention.

“Hyunjin please,” you whimper as he gets close to your pussy, needing him there.

“Shh,” he whispers and bites into the soft flesh of your thigh and suckle at the skin. He soothes the area with his tongue before moving to a different spot and bites down again, just to suckle the area.

After some time, he eyes his work and seems satisfied at the purplish bruises that are now blooming across your skin. A shiver runs down your spine at the spots, as you’re practically purring inside that he’s marked you as his own. You watch as he finally reaches for the waistband of your panties and slides them down your legs, leaving you bare for him.

“This pussy, it’s mine right?” Hyunjin asks you as he spreads your legs even more.

“It’s yours.” He leans down and licks a stripe down your folds and you let out a moan at his mouth finally directly on your pussy. You throw your head back as he repeats the motion again, gathering your slick in his mouth. He parts your pussy lips and spits on your clit, before wrapping his lips around the bud and begins to suck. You close your eyes at the feeling, how his warm mouth engulfs your bundle of nerves, how he rolls it against his tongue sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your hands find there way to his hair and you grasp the short strands, jerking your hips upwards as he groans at your touch. You feel the pleasure mounting, slowly gathering in your core, threatening to spill at any moment. However, before you can reach that sweet bliss, Hyunjin releases your clit and lays his head on your thighs and closes his eyes.

You stare at him in shock as your orgasm fades away. “Hyunjin, what are you doing,” you groan.

“We have all day love, let me pleasure you, worship you just how you like,” he coos and looks up at you, his hands caressing your thigh.

You nod and then turn on the tv, watching the whatever show was on the channel from last night. Time passed and you continued to watch tv. Hyunjin kept your legs open for him, his head on your thigh just inches away from your pussy. The sight caused more slick to drip out of your entrance, coating your folds for his viewing pleasure.

You were about to beg him to continue when he shuffled back in place in front of you. He reaches out and spread your folds, gasping at the slick sound that echoed in the room from how wet you were. He closed them before spreading them wide once more.

“You’re soaking,” he teased and chuckled at the whine you let out.

“Let me just…” but his words fell off as he slide two fingers inside, the stretch causing you to moan.

He immediately curled his fingers up and begin to thrust his fingers within you, teasing your sweet spot. You let out moan after moan and gripped the sheets as you were already sensitive from earlier. Your legs begin to close at the overwhelming sensation, but Hyunjin pushed them apart and gave you a warning glance causing you to clench around his digits.

“Maybe you can fit three? Yeah…you can fit more of my fingers in this sweet pussy.”

Hyunjin slid a third finger within your heat and began pressing against your sweet spot again. He bit his lip as he watched you fall apart, his cock twitching in his boxers at the sight. Your eyes were wide, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed. Your chest rose and fell rapidly with each thrust. You were falling apart and just with his fingers.

Hyunjin kept his eyes on you, watching as you got closer to your high. He could feel you clenching around his fingers, holding them in your warm heat. Just a moment more and he removed them abruptly, chuckling at the whine you let out at the emptiness.

You watched in dismay as he laid back down, resting his head on your thighs. He brought his fingers to his lips, parted them, and licked each one clean. You whimpered at the sight, wishing they were back inside you, but instead he lightly slapped your thigh signaling for you to hush. You warily looked back at the tv screen, trying to focus on the show at hand. However, you couldn’t, your mind stuck on the thought of Hyunjin’s lips on your pussy, devouring you whole.

The feeling was too much, you were desperate and needed your release so you tapped his head to get his attention. Hyunjin looked up at you expectedly, waiting for you to speak.

“Need to come Hyun, need your mouth on me and your fingers inside. Please let me come,” you whined, giving him your best puppy dog look.

Hyunjin considered you for a moment and then lowered his gaze to your pussy. You were swollen and your clit engorged and neglected. Your arousal coated your skin, and more steadily poured out of your hole. He could put you out of your misery, after all he loves watching you fall apart.

You watched in anticipation as he assumed position and lowered his mouth to your pussy, wrapping his lips once more around your clit. You sighed all content, happy he was back where you wanted him. Your hands found his hair again and you tried to pull at the strands, letting out a frustrated huff at not being able to do so as you liked.

Hyunjin feasted on you, rolling your clit around his tongue, suckling the bud until you were panting and writhing above him. He held your legs down and pressed his face deeper against your pussy and bit down on your clit, humming as you moaned, “I’m coming.” You squirted on his face as your walls contracted and you tried to close your legs. Hyunjin kept them open however, and continued to lick you clean until you were pushing at his head due to the overstimulation.

He finally detached himself and then brought his hand down to slap your pussy, smirking as you yelped at the sting. He licked his lips and brought his gaze to your ruined core, his fingers sliding against your clit. It was just how he liked, puffy and red.

“My good girl,” he cood and leaned over you to press his lips to yours. You could taste yourself on them as he moved gently against you.

As he leaned back, you let out a sigh and then glanced at the clock.

“Shit, you’ve been at it for hours,” you said in amazement.

Hyunjin chuckled, “I can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, just want to eat you out all the time.”

“Maybe you should,” you smirked.

“Challenge accepted,” Hyunjin said and got back between your legs, preparing to devour your pussy yet again.

divider by @saradika-graphics

The door swung open and students spilled out of the room, going different directions as you kept chewing on your lip, making your eyes big and teary for when he comes out.

Professor Hwang leaned on the door frame, his eyes travelling from your feet to your face as he scanned your fidgeting body.

"Come in, Y/n." he said, his face stern and unreadable.

You scurried inside, following him as he already made his way to his table.

"Lock the door." he ordered, sitting down in his chair and spreading his legs a little.

You gulped, your eyes falling to his lap before you swiftly turned around and closed the door, locking them after that.

"Come here." he beckoned you with his finger and you neared his table.

Professor Hwang stared at your bare thighs for a moment, licking his lips before he looked up at you.

"So, what happened? I thought you were listening to my lectures." he started, taking your test out and placing it on the table, his big hand splayed over it as he stared at you intently.

"I-I do listen." you stuttered quietly, blinking your eyes at him.

"If you did, you wouldn't be in this predicament right now. You're always my best student. I was expecting more from you and you disappointed me." he talked and tears brimmed in your eyes.

You opened your mouth to apologize but he kept talking.

"Were you distracted, hm? Maybe by a boy?" he smirked, leaning closer to you as you stood there playing with your fingers.

Professor Hwang sucked his bottom lip in as he glanced at your thighs again, his eyes travelling up to your chest pressed in the tight little shirt you had on.

"N-no! No I wasn't, I swear." you squirmed in place, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

"No?" he taunted you with a smirk.

"I-I'm sorry." you whispered, gulping.

"Oh yeah? How sorry are you?" he asked.

"Very, very sorry." you answered and he let out a chuckle, his hand reaching towards the drawer inside the table.

"Very, very sorry?" he repeated your words as he rummaged through the drawer, obviously looking for something.

"Yes, I swear." you nodded.

You shivered in anticipation as he paused, eyes raking all over your frame again. Suddenly his arm swiped over the table, pushing the contents of it and making them clatter on the floor. You jolted from the sudden movement, a little gasp escaping your lips as your professor pulled out the pointer he used sometimes during lectures.

You stared at the item in his hand then looked up at his face as he stood up, hovering over you.

"Bend over." he pointed to the table.

"W-what?" you stuttered.

"Don't make me repeat myself." he looked at you sternly as he tapped the table with the pointer.

You swallowed and shifted past him, standing in front of the table and staring at it before you slowly bended over, laying your upper body on the hard wood.

"I wanna see how sorry you really are." he smirked as he stood behind you and you pressed your cheek against the table, trying to look back at him.

Professor Hwang bunched your skirt up in his hand and then lifted it up to reveal your bare ass.

"No panties?" he chuckled, his hand gripping the skirt tighter.

A flush of embarrassment washed over you as you squirmed.

"Stay still." he warned you before pressing the pointer against your ass.

A shiver ran up your spine, settling on the back of your neck as your hairs stood up. Your heart started pumping fast against your chest, nails digging into the wood as you anticipated.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson. Don't you agree, my little bunny?"

Your pussy clenched at the nickname as you gasped.

"Y-yes." you were already fighting for a breath.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I need to be taught a lesson." you whimpered and he chuckled at your compliance, removing the pointer away and waiting for a few seconds before he struck down, the cane making contact with your supple flesh.

"Ah!" you yelped, your thighs rubbing together instantly.

"Count." he growled at you before striking your backside again.

"T-two!" you whimpered and he laughed, repeating the process.

"Three!" you counted, digging your nails further into the table as professor Hwang whipped your ass.

You were crying, tears running down your cheeks as you counted and whimpered in pain and arousal as he showed no mercy on your poor flesh.

The more he struck you, the wetter you got, your arousal now dripping and smearing on your inner thighs. Professor Hwang could see it and smell it and it made his pants uncomfortably tight.

He threw the pointer aside after you counted to fifteen, his middle pressing into your ass, making you feel his hard erection pressed against your warmth.

"Look what you did, naughty girl." his hand tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back, rubbing against you and you whined loudly.

"I- I'm sorry!" you cried out as he grinded into you before leaning back and giving you a few more spanks with his hand, making your backside sting even more.

"Again with the apologies." he tsked. "I'm not sure that you're actually sorry, bunny."

"Yes I am, I swear!" you trembled when his fingertips ghosted around your core.

"For some reason I don't believe you. I think you're lying and you did badly on purpose." professor Hwang leaned over you, whispering in your ear as his fingertips ran over your wet folds.

You gasped, opening your mouth to speak but he cut you off.

"Naughty girl wanted to be punished by her professor, is that right?" he pushed your legs apart with his feet before plunging two of his fingers inside you.

You had nothing to say, because of course he knew. You only moaned as he pumped his fingers inside you.

"You don't wanna answer, little bunny?" he pulled his fingers out, only the tips touching you, teasing you.

"I do. I do." you panicked, thinking he'd pull away when you needed him so much.

"Tell me the truth then. And I just might go easy on you." he smirked.

You gulped, looking up at him as he hovered over you, his fingers toying with your clit.

"I did it on purpose." you confessed.

He let out a laugh and shook his head.

"Aren't you just a desperate little slut? Playing with your academic success to get under me. Pathetic." he tsked, mocking you as he pushed his fingers inside you again.

You whimpered, leaning back into his touch as your eyes fluttered.

"Answer me!" he growled, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

"Yes, I'm a desperate slut!" you cried out, fresh tears spilling out your eyes.

"How desperate are you for me, bunny?" he stopped all movement, suddenly pulling away from you and you whined at the emptiness and the cold breeze coming from the window.

"So desperate." you said as he pulled you up and then sat down on his chair, spreading his legs and beckoning you to come closer.

"Prove it." professor Hwang smirked.

You swallowed before getting down on your knees on the hard floor and he bit on his lip, looking at you with a stern look in his face and his brows furrowed as your shaky hands unbuttoned his pants.

He kept quiet, just observing you as you fumbled with the zipper and pulled his pants down with his boxers. His cock slapped against his stomach, the tip red and angry.

"You did that bunny." he smirked a little as you scooted closer to him.

Your pussy clenched at his words as you leaned in and tentatively licked at the pre-cum on his tip. You wrapped your lips around him and his hands grabbed at you hair, creating a makeshift ponytail as you sucked on him, taking him in more.

"Aren't you just so cute like this?" he asked more rhetorically while you swallowed as much of his length as you could, your small hand wrapping around the rest that couldn't fit.

Professor Hwang couldn't help the little moans escaping his lips because you knew exactly how to drive him crazy.

"That's enough." he pulled you off after a while, slapping your cheek with his dick. "You should be thankful I even let you do that."

"Thank you, sir." you batted your eyelashes at him and his cheeks flushed. He was weak for you when you'd call him that.

"Come sit." he ordered and you were eager to obey as you scrambled to your feet and hovered over him. You grabbed the base of his cock and pressed it against your entrance, letting the tip slip in before you slid down completely, burying him inside your warmth, your thighs flush against his.

"You expect me to do all the work?" he lifted his brow as you squirmed on top of him.

"I- I-" you were stuttering again, your pussy gripping him.

"You didn't do any work for your test so make it up to me, bunny." he ordered and you placed your hands on his shoulders and gripped, steadying yourself before you started bouncing on his cock.

"Harder." he ordered and your nails dug into his flesh as you pressed your feet against the floor and bounced harder, fucking yourself on his cock.

"Fuck." he groaned as he looked at your breasts, his length twitching inside you.

He ripped your shirt open, making you gasp when his hands grabbed at your tits, a smirk on his lips as you weren't even wearing a bra.

"All ready for me to take, hm?" he smirked as you moaned and shook against him, fucking yourself harder as his tip kept hitting your sweet spot.

"Y-yes, always." you whined as he grabbed at your breasts roughly, pinching and pulling on your nipples.

You cried out and came, exploding around his cock and squeezing him like you never wanted to let go.

"Fuck, my naughty bunny!" he growled and gripped your hips before fucking up into you and knocking the breath out of your lungs.

"H-Hyunjin!" his name had slipped out in your cloudy state and that was enough for him to grip you tightly and cum inside you, the warmness filling you up and making your eyes roll back.

Your arms wrapped around him as you tried to catch your breath and he pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his hands grabbing at your backside, massaging you gently and trying to soothe the pain.

"Think you learned your lesson now, bunny?" he lifted his head up to look at you, his hand coming up to put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Maybe I need some more tutoring." you winked and he shook his head.

"More, hm?" he smirked then, his hands cupping your breasts and running over your nipples. You clenched around his spent cock instantly and he noticed.

"Yeah well, you're the best professor, I love learning from you." you teased and Hyunjin laughed, throwing his head back.

You stood up, feeling his cum trickling down your inner thigh.

"Then I'll give you some more private lessons." he stood in front of you, hand between your leg as his fingers gathered his juices and brought them to your lips. You wrapped them around his digits and sucked, keeping eye contact with him as you swirled your tongue around and tasted both of your arousal.

"I'm looking forward to that." you said lowly as he stared darkly at you.

Hyunjin grabbed your face and kissed you passionately, his tongue tasting you before he pulled back.

"See you tonight for our dinner date, bunny." he smirked when you both adjusted your clothes.

"See you, professor." you winked, blowing him a kiss before you left the classroom.

Yes, dating your professor was forbidden, fucking him in the classroom even more so but forbidden things always seem more delicious, don't they?

"Hey, is it any better?" Felix appeared next to the bed where you were currently clutching at your stomach with all sorts of blankets wrapped up around you.

"Just a little bit." you answered weakly, he had brought you some tea and painkillers earlier in hopes of helping alleviate your pain.

Felix looked at you with big sad puppy eyes, frustrated that you were in so much pain.

"We can cuddle?" he suggested and you nodded quickly, wanting to feel him close to you. Felix crawled under the blankets, wrapping his arms around you as he spooned you, his palms gently caressing where it hurt.

You relaxed a little bit as his body warmed you up, your boyfriend's presence comforting like always.

"You know..." he trailed off after some time in that tone. You knew he was going to say something out of the pocket so you rolled your eyes playfully, turning to look at him as he grinned impishly at you.

"What?" you grinned back.

"I heard sex can help with period pain. Especially when you cum, 'cause you relax and all that. I also heard that period make you more sensitive so you like... enjoy it more." Felix rambled.

"And where did you hear all that?" you lifted your brow at him.

"Google. I read an article." he answered and you giggled, shaking your head.

"All for some pussy, huh?" you teased him.

He laughed, poking your side gently.

"Not just any pussy, only yours." he wiggled his eyebrows, diving into a kiss.

"I don't know..." you sighed after you parted. "You might be grossed out."

Felix shook his head at that, pulling you into his body as you faced him.

"I'd never be grossed out by you. And periods are natural, there is nothing gross about them."

You whined at his words, burying your face in his neck and inhaling.

"You can't be real." you said and he laughed, squeezing you a little. "How did I get so lucky?"

"I'm the lucky one." Felix put his hand on your face and made you look at him.

"If you don't feel comfortable, I won't bother you with it anymore. But I promise, I won't be grossed out."

"Fine, we can try it." you said after a moment of thinking.

"Are you sure?" he asked once more.

"Yeah, I'm sure." you nodded and he smiled, kissing your forehead before getting up.

"Okay, I'll bring a towel. Be right back."

-

"Feeling okay? Are you cold?" Felix asked a few moments later, as your naked body shivered underneath him.

He had placed the towel on the bed so it wouldn't be too messy.

"Just a little embarrassed is all." you said with a sheepish smile, your cheeks warming up while Felix observed your face for any sign of discomfort.

"Babe, you literally peed while I was brushing my teeth the other day. I think we're past being embarrassed with each other." he said and you smacked his arm, chuckling.

"Shut up, I really had to go then and you were taking so long!" you whined and he giggled.

"I don't mind." Felix shook his head before leaning down to kiss you gently. "Just relax, my love." he added quietly, his hands caressing your hips, gently travelling up to your stomach and sides.

You closed your eyes, relaxing as he started kissing your jaw, down to your neck, all the while his hands were slowly mapping out your body, mesmerized by your curves and dips even though he had you many times before, he was always amazed by the beauty of you.

Felix cupped your breasts and you let out a quiet whimper as he bit into your neck, sucking on the skin and claiming you as his.

"L-Lix." you breathed out and he smirked against you as he played with your sensitive nipples.

"J-Just be gentle." you stuttered as he squeezed your breasts, massaging them and leaning down to lick at your hardened bud.

"Of course, my love." he whispered, wrapping his plump lips around your nipple and sucking. A wave of arousal washed over your body and you felt it dripping down on the towel, feeling a little embarrassed as you wondered if it was blood.

But Felix was touching you and kissing you so sweetly, making your head spin and your body tingle so much that you almost forgot about the embarrassment. Almost.

After spending a good amount of time worshipping your breasts, Felix reached to grab a condom from the nightstand.

"You wanna continue?" he asked and you nodded.

You looked at him as he ripped it open and grabbed his cock, giving himself a few pumps. You licked your lips at the sight of him, his skin was flushed, his cock leaking with pre-cum, his brows furrowed as he bit on his lip and rolled the condom on.

"So sexy." you sighed dreamily and he looked up at you, face breaking into a smirk.

"Oh yeah?" he kneeled between your legs. "You want me, hm?"

"So much." you said, your body arching towards his. He grabbed his cock, pressing it against you as he looked down and touched your clit with his tip.

"Don't look." you whined and Felix chuckled.

"Why not?"

"It probably looks gross."

"No, it doesn't. Relax, baby." he caressed your face with his free hand as he slowly started to push in.

A whimper escaped your lips as he slid in easily, filling you up perfectly when he bottomed out.

"Fuck." Felix's body shook for a second as he propped himself on his hands, giving you both a moment to breathe.

"Felix..." you whimpered, grabbing at him.

"Does it hurt?" he asked and you shook your head.

"No, you can move." you said as you wrapped your arms around him.

Felix nodded, his hands gentle on your hips as he started moving with slow and deliberate thrusts, making you feel every inch of his perfect cock, his tip hitting your g-spot every time he pushed in.

"You're so wet, baby." he groaned, keeping the pace as he rocked you gently.

"Mm." you moaned, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

"Feels good?" Felix asked, his hands sliding back up to cup your breasts again as he fucked into you with languid thrusts.

"So good." you moaned out, feeling yourself relaxing more and more even though your pussy was clenching and gripping his cock.

"Yeah? Feels so good for me too." he groaned, leaning down to nip at your neck again.

"Lixie." you whimpered as he pressed himself against you and you wrapped your legs around him, allowing him to push in even deeper.

"Y/n." he moaned your name as he kept fucking you, a little harder now but still keeping the movement languid and slow.

"I'm gonna cum." you whimpered, feeling sensitive and overwhelmed as his happy trail kept brushing against your clit and the tip of his hard cock kept pressing into your sweet spot.

"Mm. Me too." Felix moaned out, squeezing your breasts, fingertips pinching your nipples lightly.

It crashed over you like a tidal wave as you clenched around him, moaning his name loudly as you came around his cock.

"Ugh, fuck. I love you." Felix grunted, his hips stuttering as he fucked into you a bit harder before he came inside the condom.

"I love you too, Lixie." you gripped at his back, digging your nails into his skin as he rode his high.

Both of you breathed hard as you held each other and he buried his face in your neck.

After a few moments he looked up at you with a smile.

"So? Is your pain gone?" Felix asked.

"It is. I feel more relaxed." you said.

"Really? I was gonna say if it's not, we can go for round 2." he winked at you and you laughed.

"Don't push it."

"I tried." he pouted jokingly before pulling out.

"Is it gross?" you asked, covering your eyes.

"No, it's okay baby, don't worry about it." you heard him shuffling around, his footsteps leading towards the bathroom and then the sound of water.

He came back as you still had your eyes covered, a giggle escaping his lips before you felt the warm wet cloth pressed against you as he started cleaning you up.

You peeked at him through your fingers and almost melted as he stared at your face with a biggest smile.

"What?" you asked.

"Nothing. You're just cute." Felix teased.

"Am not. That must be you." your voice was muffled as you hid yourself behind your palms again.

"You wanna cuddle again?" he asked.

"Yes, after a shower." you scrunched up your face, finally looking at him.

Felix laughed, extending his hand and helping you up, the two of you making your way to the bathroom.

When you laid next to your boyfriend that night, you nuzzled into him as he held you.

"Felix?"

"Yes?"

"You're my comfort person." you mumbled against his collarbone and he smiled, kissing your head.

"You're mine too." he whispered as you drifted off into blissful sleep.

“Promise?” Hyunjin asked, pulling back to look you deep in the eyes.

“Mmhmm, I promise.”

That seemed to appease him because he let go of you and gave you a quick peck on the lips before walking to the door. Felix snickered and mumbled ‘dramatic’ under his breath.

“Bye baby, I’ll talk to you later.” Felix embraced you in a tight hug and pressed wet kisses all over your face causing you to giggle.

“Okay, okay, you’re both gonna be late.”

Felix hummed and released you. Hyunjin picked up his and Felix’s suitcase and blew you a kiss. You watched as they walked out the door, Hyunjin whining again about the lack of your presence on this trip.

It’s Hyunjin’s birthday and so you and Felix planned out a little trip for him, wanting to make sure he is pampered. The only kicker is that you wouldn’t be able to be there until much later, having to finish up last minute work at the office. Hyunjin made known immediately how he felt about the situation, whining and pouting nonstop since he found out you wouldn’t be there.

You were sad about not being able to leave with the two of your boyfriends, but you reminded yourself of the plan and continued on with your day.

— —

Hyunjin adjusts himself in his seat as he stares of out the airplane window. It’s a beautiful, sunny day. A perfect day for flying. However, his mood is dampened as he doesn’t feel complete. Felix is next to him, glancing every now and then worriedly. He’s reassured him time and time again that the trip will be perfect. But how can it be perfect when you’re not there with them?

He startles as Felix grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze. “Don’t worry love, this trip will be great. It’s your birthday, let’s make the best of it okay?”

Hyunjin stares into Felix’s chocolate brown eyes, takes in how he seems almost desperate, a slight shine to them as if he’s about to burst into tears. Felix is right though. It is his birthday and he should try to have fun as his other lover is right here next to him.

“Okay,” Hyunjin says and squeezes Felix’s hand back. Felix breaks out into a huge smile, relief plastered on his face that he’s gotten through to him. Hyunjin pulls the hood of his sweatshirt up and onto his head and relaxes against the seat and closes his eyes, drifting off immediately as the plane takes off for its destination.

— —

Felix is wired, his energy overflowing and he’s trying not to let it show. Phase one of the plan is being executed and he is dragging along a grumpy Hyunjin behind him. He knows the ferret is only irritated because he’s hungry and Felix plans to remedy that as soon as possible.

He expertly maneuvers his way through the throngs of people, gazing occasionally at the beautiful scenery. He’s been here many times before, but never with Hyunjin. When asked where Hyunjin wanted to go to next, he replied immediately Paris, jealous that both you and Felix have been multiple times, sometimes for pleasure and others for business.

You both began planning the trip, making sure the itinerary was befitting for Hyunjin. Felix’s thoughts are interrupted as Hyunjin grumbles a “are we there yet?” He takes a few more steps and then stops in front of a little cafe, the smell of fresh brewed coffee and baked goods wafting through the doors.

There’s little tables scattered on the patio, with the doors open to reveal other tables occupied by diners. Felix smiles, “we’re here. Let’s sit outside yeah?”

Hyunjin takes in the quaint cafe and then squeals. “It’s so cute Felix!” His irritation is gone and in place curiosity takes over as Felix guides him to an empty table.

“It is. I love coming here. They have an excellent cappuccino and their pain au chocolat is to die for.”

“I think that’s what I’ll get,” Hyunjin says not even opening the menu that was left at the table.

Felix ordered, getting the same as Hyunjin and then reached for his hand. He smiled gently, rubbing his thumb across the smooth skin. He thinks how lucky he is to call Hyunjin his boyfriend and that he was born on this day.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Hyunjin observed. He loved the little trees that lined the sidewalk, precious pink flowers blooming on the branches. The temperature was perfect and nicely warm, not a cloud in sight.

“It is. I’m so glad I was able to take you here,” Felix responds. He observes Hyunjin’s face, a pang in his stomach as he looks at the slight frown.

“Y/n would love it here,” Hyunjin whispers, looking down at his hand intertwined with Felix’s.

Felix agrees, you would love it here as you loved quaint places but also just loved spending time with your lovers. He’s about to voice so when the food arrives, the fluffy treat plated with great detail. Hyunjin is quick to grab his camera that he’s taken with him and snaps a few pictures of the food. After a minute or so, he trades his camera for his fork and knife and begins to eat.

He groans as he takes the first bite, the bread light and fluffy on his tongue and the chocolate rich. Felix chuckles at his reaction and takes a sip of his own coffee.

“Told you,” Felix says and reaches out to wipe off the chocolate that is now residing on the corner of Hyunjin’s lips.

He then stuck his finger in his mouth, licking the sweet treat clean off the digit. Hyunjin stared flabbergasted at him, but his look of shock was quickly replaced with a smirk.

“Was it good?” Hyunjin teased, sticking his tongue out and licking his lips.

“Mmhmm, it was baby,” Felix cooed.

Hyunjin chuckled and shoved the last piece of bread in his mouth and finished his coffee. Felix hailed the waiter and paid, chatting the whole time. Hyunjin loves watching Felix yap with others. He has such a kind soul, easily becoming friends with everyone. He finds himself blushing at the thought and tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ears.

“Ready?” Felix asks as he pockets his credit card.

Hyunjin nods and stands up, following Felix to their next destination.

— —

“No, no, the lights need to be a little higher,” you quipped at the man standing on a ladder, his arms high above his head as he fixes a string of lights to a pole.

With a watchful gaze, you see him fix the fixture, smiling when it’s in the right place. You scramble to another group of workers, who are sitting up a table, placing the place settings perfectly.

Everything seemed to be going as planned which made you elated. Felix sent you a message and said that breakfast was a success and Hyunjin only mentioned you once, which was a surprise. The report made you happy and allowed you to focus on the task at hand.

Everything had to be perfect, and if you had any say about it, it would be.

— —

Felix guides Hyunjin through the city, walking hand and hand and only stopping occasionally to snap a picture. Hyunjin has taken several of him and vice versa, wanting to document the day so you can experience it later…even though it’s only through film.

They finally make it to the park and Hyunjin’s eyes light up as he grasps his camera tighter eager to begin taking photos. There are couples about and parents with children, everyone enjoying the warm, spring day. Felix watches as his lover scampers from flower to flower, snapping pictures and then showing him the result, gushing about how beautiful the print came out and mumbling about what he should shot next.

Hyunjin walks ahead toward a water fountain, pausing to take a picture every few steps. Suddenly he gets an idea and beckons Felix forward.

“Go stand next to the fountain baby, I’ll snap your picture!”

Felix smiles and obliges, pausing in the center of the fountain. He chooses a variety of poses and holds them until Hyunjin says okay. Picture after picture and pose after pose are done until Felix asks him to take a break.

“Let me get some of you baby,” Felix says grabbing the camera from Hyunjin.

Hyunjin nods and takes his place at the fountain and begins to pose, enjoying the little photoshoot. His mind drifts to you, wishing once more you could be here to enjoy this moment. He can hear your giggles, so soft and sweet until it turns into full on laughter, your cackles echoing in whatever quiet space you’re in.

He thinks of how you’d splash him and Felix with water, just to run away when they attempt to splash you back. The thought is so entertaining to him, he starts to smile even more, the gesture truly reaching his eyes. Felix notices but doesn’t say anything and instead continues to snap pictures.

Once done, he continues to walk through the park with Felix, hand in hand again. Felix chatters about his next project with the agency and how he will have to be in England for two weeks. Hyunjin can’t let this news bring him down, not on his birthday and when he’s taking a leisurely stroll around a beautiful park in Paris.

He’s happy, incredibly so even though his other half is missing. He knows Felix worked hard planning this vacation and he wants to savor every moment he can.

“We’re going to a museum next. One that you’ve been wanting to go to for a while.”

Hyunjin stops dead in his tracks. “No way! We’re going to the Louvre Museum!”

Felix chuckles and nods, reaching out for Hyunjin’s hand again. The walk isn’t far and Hyunjin hurries along with new fervor. He’s taken aback by the building, in awe of how large it is. He’s completely overwhelmed and has no idea where to start first, so he takes a moment to look at the map.

Felix watches as Hyunjin studies each painting, taking in the careful strokes of the paint brush, the story portrayed through the artists eyes. He notifies Hyunjin mumbling to himself occasionally before raising his camera to his eyes and snapping a picture.

Satisfied that he’s seen enough with the current room, Hyunjin drags Felix to the neighboring one, a collection of Rembrandt’s hung carefully on the walls. The process starts over again and Felix never grows tired but instead has a renewed love for his boyfriend.

Hours are spent in the museum, so much so that the sky is beginning to darken and the sun is going into hiding, preparing a path for the moon to rise. Hyunjin is happily looking through his gallery as he and Felix walk out of the museum. He was able to obtain many beautiful shots and he couldn’t wait to show you when he got home.

“What about we grab dinner?” Felix inquired, his own belly letting out a deep rumble as if to solidify his question.

“Yes, I’m starving,” Hyunjin groans and lets his camera dangle from his neck.

Felix smiles and feels excitement brewing, knowing that Hyunjin would love the surprise he has in store. He quickly navigates the streets as the stars make an appearance, lighting up the night sky. He walks and walks until the Eiffel Tower comes into view, the massive structure towering high into the sky.

Hyunjin is quiet, observing the tower, his eyes sparkling at the fact that he’s at one of the most famous buildings in the world. He’s quick to hold his camera to his eye and focus the lens before pressing the shutter button, capturing what’s in front of him, or rather above him, in all its glory.

Felix allows Hyunjin to take it all before grabbing his hand. “Let’s go to the top. Dinner awaits us there.”

Hyunjin glances at him curiously but follows him anyway into the elevator and stands next to Felix as the door closes. The ascent is relatively quick and smooth and before Hyunjin knows it the doors are opening to the 1st floor.

He is taken aback by what’s in front of him, a surprise that he most definitely wasn’t expecting. There is soft lighting hanging from the support beams, some bulbs twinkling and making the space seem magical. A huge “happy birthday Hyunjin” sign drapes above a table set for dinner with an unexpected guest in one of the chairs.

Hyunjin feels excitement bubble up within him and he squeals as he runs to the person at the table who is now standing up.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, engulfing you in such a hug he lifts you into the hair and spins you around. “You’re here!”

Felix watches in amusement as Hyunjin rocks you back and forth, his heart bursting with love for you two. He walks over and gently places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder causing him to pause.

“Surprise!” You shout, wiggling your fingers for effect. “I didn’t want to tell you I’d actually be here. I’ve been setting up this space for your special birthday dinner.”

“It’s perfect,” Hyunjin gushes.

You usher both boys into their seats and begin serving the food, making sure to put extra helpings on Hyunjin’s plate. He eats with gusto, mumbling out “hmm” every few bites. Your heart swells even larger as you watch Hyunjin scrunch up his face as he takes a bite, the cuteness of his method of eating overwhelming you.

“We’ve had a busy day,” Felix says, wanting to make sure you were up to date on today’s adventure.

“Yeah? Well I definitely want to hear all about,” you said giving Hyunjin a smile.

After eating, Hyunjin picked up his camera and had you and Felix pose for pictures before getting in the shot himself. The lighting was perfect, giving a calming backdrop with the night sky in the background.

Standing at the railing, all three of you looked out over the city, listening to the sounds of people who had places to be in this city of love. You looked up at the sky and bounced in place as you took notice of the numerous stars, accented by the moon.

You scanned the sky, looking for two constellations in particular. “Ah! There is is! Perseus and Andromeda!”

The boys say “huh” in unison their heads craned to the night sky.

“See, look! The W shape there represents Cassiopeia who was Andromeda’s mother and next to it in the K shape is Perseus. They were lovers.”

You point out the constellations and watch as the boys faces change from confusion to excitement.

“Just like us,” Hyunjin murmurs reaching for your hand and Felix’s.

It’s silent for a moment as you all continue staring at the night sky. Your love for each other is eternal just like the stars that litter the black canvas shining brightly for all to see. The thought made you smile and you squeezed Hyunjin’s hand in earnest.

“Yeah, just like us.”

You hear a sniffle and look over to see Felix crying, little tear drops sliding down his flushed cheeks.

“Felix! Don’t cry!” Hyunjin panics, reaching out to wipe the tears from his face…albeit aggressively.

“They’re gone! I’m okay!” Felix groans with a chuckle at Hyunjin’s dramatics.

You bent over cackling, your boyfriends never failing to make you smile. “Okay, okay, settle down,” you said, grabbing Hyunjin’s hand and Felix’s in your other.

Hyunjin smirks at Felix who sticks his tongue out and giggles as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Happy birthday Hyunjin,” you say, pressing a gentle kiss on his plush lips.

“Yeah happy birthday,” Felix follows suit, his voice deep and gravely. He kisses Hyunjin passionately and withdraws right as Hyunjin begins to whine.

“Alright loves, let’s save that for the bedroom eh?” You tease, raising your eyebrow at the two boys.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Hyunjin smirks before pulling you two toward the elevator.

You and Felix can’t help but smile, ready for what’s in store for the rest of the night.

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics

The fan above him spun around with a loud creak, making more noise than giving him air. The environment was cold outside, winter still clinging onto the wind making a chill run down his spine amidst his worry for his friend. Hyunjin was far too reckless for his own good—why did he never listen to Minho? He was right after all. Doing that stupid skateboard stunt and now look what happened, Minho had to bring him to the hospital because he was almost a hundred percent sure he broke his leg.

“You're not a teenager anymore, Hyunjin,” Minho chided as Hyunjin paid him no heed, too excited to ride the skateboard that he found in the dusty boxes of his garage. Once upon a time, Hyunjin was really good at skateboarding. But it had been years since then. “At least do something normal?”

“Normal is for losers.”

He shook his head, not wanting to recount the sound of the sickening crack of the skateboard followed by his friend's wail of pain. A wave of goosebumps formed over his skin as he tried to focus on something else, like how he would tell him I told you so when he saw him about how he could be as dumb as he was seven years ago and watch him roll his eyes. He gazed at the branch of the sakura tree he could see outside the window, still bare from the snowy months.

The faint smell of soap followed by loud giggles pulled him away from his thoughts. He turned his head to the source of the sound, eyes falling on a couple young kids jumping up and down as they were surrounded by bubbles, dancing around a person sitting in a wheelchair. 

That was when he saw… you.

You blew another bout of the soapy spheres, the sunlight refracting through them creating tiny, diffused rainbows. Your eyes nearly turned into crescents, crinkling at the corners as you laughed along with the children, your smile so contagious he could feel the corners of his own lips tugging upwards. It was like the filter of his eyes changed, the world suddenly becoming more vibrant and colorful—just because of you. He didn't even notice the tube that ran along beneath your nose, the way you couldn't move your body beneath your waist, and the ill-fitting hospital gown you had on. 

Minho couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not even when a nurse approached him to inform him of Hyunjin's condition. A quick snap brought him out of his trance, his ears turning red along with his cheeks. He quietly got up and shuffled behind the nurse towards the room Hyunjin was resting in.

Over the next week, Minho visited the hospital twice a day to meet Hyunjin, once in the morning before work and once in the evening after work. A couple of their other friends came every now and then, but it was mostly just Minho.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

Not to be disrespectful to his friend but he wanted to see you without getting hounded by relentless teasing and possibly drive you away (not like he had ever spoken to you, no, this was all in his head).

There was something about you that drew Minho in, like a moth to a flame. Like he knew you from somewhere but he couldn't put a finger on it.

The following Sunday, the day Hyunjin was being discharged, Minho was there at the hospital. He was miserably failing at operating the water cooler to quench his parched throat, his ears turning pink from the effort of trying to find out why water wasn't coming out of the faucet when he turned the knob. 

“That thing has never worked,” a voice said from behind. You approached him in your wheelchair, a permanent smile on your face as you looked at him, hands folded in your lap.

“Oh…” He felt stupid. 

“Here you go,” you handed him a plastic water bottle, which he gratefully took and took a few gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I've seen you a lot around here, are you unwell?”

“Oh? No, no—my friend, he did something stupid and broke his leg. I didn't want to leave him alone.”

You nodded your head. “That's sad, is he okay?”

Minho nodded. “He's okay enough to talk my ear off.” He chuckled, to which you chuckled in return. A warm, fluttery feeling rose on his chest at the thought of him making you smile. “Thank you… for the water.”

“No problem. You looked like you were going to break that.”

“Was I?” His face flushed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly at your words. 

“What's your name?”

“Minho. What about you?”

“Y/n.”

Y/n… He liked that. He wanted to say something more, to keep talking to you so he could hear that voice of yours that made his heart tap dance in his rib cage when a group of kids ran up to you, talking over each other in excited giggles and shrieks. You laughed along with them as they tugged at your hand.

“I'm sorry, I'll see you again later?” He nodded quickly, forgetting that Hyunjin was going to be discharged, he had no reason to come back but you wanted him to come back, right? Or were you just being polite in front of the kids so he wouldn't be reduced into a pile of shame?

Despite his conflicting thoughts, he found himself visiting the hospital every day without fail, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of you and was surprised to see you waiting for him near the water cooler. That set your friendship in motion, talking endlessly every evening about anything and everything. The invisible red string that tied him to you brought him closer and closer. You were a siren and he was a sailor entranced by your voice.

The weather grew warmer, spring beginning to show itself in the trees and in the flowers. The snow covered roads were no longer a hassle to drive on and Minho could finally put away his boots, opting for a more comfortable pair of shoes for work and to visit you. Like clockwork, at five in the evening he switched off his computer, shoved his papers into his work bag and made a beeline for his car, no longer needing a map because he already knew the way.

You were there waiting for him in your room after he checked at the reception, eager to tell him more tales and funny stories, anecdotes of other patients and the kids you hung out with. Sometimes, you and him would talk for hours. Sometimes, you sat in silence, sketching away in your book while he sat beside you reading a book.

Minho showed you pictures of his three cats, which you fawned over almost immediately, cooing at the sight of the three kitties, making his heart melt. He wished he could bring them but he couldn't, so he showed you as many videos and photos as he could since they seemed to bring you immense joy.

Somedays, however, you could hardly sit up, laying down on the bed with a grimace on your face that you thought you could hide from him but he knew you were in pain. He was in pain, seeing you like that. You didn't mention it in your endless conversation, so he assumed you didn't like to talk about it.

He never asked you why you were in the hospital in the first place, why all the happiness drained out of your face when you tried to move in your wheelchair, why that tube sat above your pretty pink lips—he didn't see all that. He only saw you.

You and your wonderful smile.

You and your ability to light up his world.

You and the way you always made his heart skip a beat.

You and your beautiful eyes that he swore held galaxies inside, he could stare at them forever.

“I can't wait for the sakuras to bloom,” you said one day, the two of you sitting in the shade of a cherry blossom tree outside of the hospital. “It's my favorite part of the whole year.” But while you were looking at the budding pink blossoms, he was looking at your face.

He was falling. Falling hard. You were the first thought on his mind when he woke up and the last one when he went to sleep. He dreamed of you, sweet, little fantasies of spending the rest of his life with you.

He knew you better than himself, that you liked pancakes drowned in syrup and berries on top, that you loved a specific type of daisy called a gerbera daisy—a flower that looked as vibrant as you, you hated the thunder but loved the rain and were an amazing artist. Your dreams of becoming a painter and having something in the Louvre Museum in Paris, visiting the top of Tokyo Tower and swimming at the beach. It made you so happy to talk about them that it made him happy, grinning ear to ear as you animatedly explained all the details to him.

“Whoa, we were in the same class,” Minho said, eyes wide with shock as he looked at the yearbook in your hands. You were both on the topic of school when you found out that the place you were describing felt too similar. It was only when you talked about a certain math teacher, you realized it was the same person.

Minho dug through his old school things at home and found his yearbook, the insides of the cover scribbled with so many names of people whom he used to call friends.

It was funny how you two had crossed paths before but he had no recollection of you. He silently cursed at his past teenage self for not knowing you—then again, fate worked in different ways.

“Yeah, I was looking through it and I saw your face. Weird, right?” He nodded, looking at the photo of you from seven years ago. You looked almost exactly the same except now your hair had grown out much more. How had he never noticed you?

His feelings towards you only increased since then, to the point where they felt suffocating to bottle up inside him. Like a volcano waiting to erupt. He took one look at your face and zoned out, completely missing what you said and barely covering up when you asked him for his opinion. He had to bite his tongue every time he almost blurted out that sentence that was marinating in his brain.

I love you.

“You're down bad,” Hyunjin told him after Minho confessed to having feelings for you after he was confronted about his visits to the hospital for the past two months. “Like bad bad. I never thought I'd see you like this.”

“I like her,” Minho admitted again. “A lot. Now that I've known her I don't think I can go back to pretending she doesn't exist.”

“Then tell her.”

He paused. “Confess… to Y/n?”

Hyunjin let out an exasperated sigh, shifting his position on the couch. “Yes, Minho, proclaim your love to the woman you love.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“If you like her so much despite her problems, then it's worth a shot, don't you think? And I have a feeling she feels the same way.”

“You think so?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Only one way to find out.

Hyunjin was right. Minho should confess. No harm in doing that right? He picked out his best shirt, tucking it into his pants and looked at his reflection in the mirror, messing with his hair for a while before he gave up and let it be. He smoothed down the wrinkles in the crisp white shirt, wondering if he was too dressed up for this. He sprayed on some cologne that you had complimented the day he wore it and gave himself a pep talk as he drove to a flower shop.

Bright red gerbera daisies in hand, he took a few deep breaths in front of the hospital entrance. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, ready to fall at any moment. You would love to see them, he thought, smiling to see himself. If things went the way he wanted them to, he would bring you out here and sit at a bench, maybe get some ice cream from the cafeteria and watch the sakuras.

Minho steeled himself and walked inside, making his way to the front desk, a daily routine but today was different. His hair on the back of his neck was on end and his heart was beating uncomfortably loud in his chest.

“I'm here to see Y/n,” he told the receptionist. He was expecting her to tell him to go down the hallway, take the elevator up to your floor and go to your room as he did every day. He didn't expect the nurse to look up at him with a solemn face, a jolt of panic going through him even before she said anything.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Lee. She passed away earlier today. Her illness suddenly became worse and her body couldn't fight it.”

His heart dropped, along with the bouquet of red flowers in his hands. “What? But—but I was here yesterday… she was fine—how—” His vision blurred with tears as the nurse once again shook her head in sorrow. His ears rang loudly, hands gripping onto the countertop hard enough to make his knuckles white, his throat closing up as he felt like the whole world was crumbling in front of him. His heart was ripped out of his chest and trampled upon as the nurse explained to him and told him about your final resting place. She handed him an envelope, sealed with a sticker of a strawberry and his name written on the front in your handwriting.

He sat in his car and cried for a long time, his forehead resting on the steering wheel as sob after sob racked through his body. His throat ached and his eyes burned but he couldn't stop crying. The world became dull again, the happiness and light that you once brought gone. Even after he shed every last tear, heart squeezed dry and now hollow, he still couldn't will himself to drive away, couldn't make himself look at the envelope sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

Minho blasted the air conditioner and closed his eyes to take a few deep breaths but he was plagued by visions of you and the pain in his heart increased by tenfold. He didn't know how long he was sitting there in his car, but he did know that he could never tell you how much he loved you, how you made his life worth living and how he would cherish you with his whole heart for eternity.

Dear Minho,

I love you…

                    If you're reading this then… I must not be there anymore. Firstly, I want to thank you for making the last few months of my life so memorable. I loved every moment I spent with you and I wish I could've had many more… perhaps a lifetime more. Thank you for making me smile when my heart felt heavy, for making me laugh when I felt like crying, for showing me so much more love than I deserve. 

Second, I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you the full story of me, the reasons why I'm paralyzed below my waist, why I was so sick I could barely move sometimes. Because when you were there, I wanted to be happy. I didn't want to think about my illness, about the fact that I would die and I would leave you alone. It was too much to bear although I thought about it every night.

All those dreams I told you about? The biggest one I had was to be with you. This is the third thing I wanted to tell you, but I never had the chance because I was too much of a coward, is that I like you. No, I love you. I've loved you since we were in school. I recognized you in the hospital that day and you didn't, but I was so happy to see you again, although I wish you didn't have to see me in that state, lying on my deathbed.

I love you so much, Lee Minho. I wish we had more time together but I cherished every moment we had. I love you and I always will. And I hope you do too…

Forever,

The words in your letter were permanently etched into his brain, a painful reminder of your absence, of how oblivious he was to your reciprocated feelings. He couldn't move for a few days, lying in bed, alternating between crying and simply staring at the ceiling, memories of you playing in his head again and again like a broken record he never wanted to fix.

Y/n.

Minho didn't visit you until Sunday, not wanting to believe the harsh reality of you not being with him anymore. He did his best to hide any remnant of his red eyes and puffy face, dressed in the shirt you liked and bought red gerbera daisies once again to see you. He had to look good… for you.

It took him a while to find you, but there you were.

In loving memory of a loving daughter and dear friend Y/n L/n

(25.03.1999  -  10.04.2024)

“Hey,” his voice cracked. He stubbornly tried to blink the tears forming in his eyes. Minho bit his lip, kneeling down to place the flowers in front of the tombstone and brushing some dirt off of the granite. “I miss you.” A wobbly smile formed on his face, he could see your face, a teasing glint in your eyes as you poked fun at him. He sniffled, turning away to wipe his eyes. “And you never gave me the chance to tell you that… that I love you too. I was nervous and now I'm too late… I'm sorry, Y/n—” He choked on his words and stood up. “I would do anything to get you back…”

There was a cool breeze, ruffling his hair. He thought it was you and closed his eyes, imagining it was your hands carding through his air. He felt something fall on him—cherry blossoms. The wind carried them in a delicate dance, surrounding him and you in a flurry of pink petals.

“The sakuras are blooming,” he smiled sadly.

But you weren't here to see it.

The drive home was silent. Minho didn't put the radio on, half focused on the idle roads and darkening horizon. The cherry blossoms trees all over the city were blooming, he noticed, as his car stood idle at a red light. He believed a part of him died along with you. You were his soulmate, that's what he liked to believe. You were connected in more ways than one, destiny pulling on your strings to get you close and then snip the thread at the last second.

The light turned red. He changed the gear and moved forward.

It all happened too fast, the rev of another car coming in from his side at a speed double that of the limit, him noticing too late as the front crashed to his left, his head flying into the window and breaking the glass into shards that wedged into his skin.

Minho's head shot up. Was he dead? Did he die in that car crash? His head was killing him, a throb coming from deep inside his brain, making him wince and hold his head. But there was no blood on his hands when he pulled away. How was that possible?

And then everything went black. 

“Are you okay?” He looked up. Hyunjin was approaching him along with a few other people he recognized as—Bang Chan, Han Jisung and… Kim Seungmin? He hadn't spoken to the last one since high school. “I think it hit you really hard.”

“What do you mean, I was in a—” He halted in his tracks. “What are you wearing?” Minho's eyes were trained on the gray blazer he was wearing, a gold pin affixed on the lapel. Underneath was a navy blue waist coat and a white shirt collar peeking above.

Hyunjin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“No,” he let out something that was a mix of a laugh and a scoff. “Why are you wearing that? Are you pulling my leg?”

“My… uniform?”

“Yah… Minho, did you hit your head that hard?” Jisung laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder, making him bend. 

“Of course I did, I—”

His mind clicked. They were standing on a field. Not just any old field—their school play field where they used to play soccer every day after class. There was laughter and yells ringing all around him. Hyunjin, Jisung, Chan and Seungmin, even Minho himself were wearing the same clothes. Gray blazer, white shirt, gray slacks and the gold pin. Some were wearing navy blue waistcoats and a tie, but it was the same thing from seven years ago.

“This isn't funny, why are we here?” This had to be some joke, courtesy of Jisung. He was a prankster but this was taking it too far.

“Minho, are you sure you're okay? Do you need to go to the nurse?” Chan had worry written all over his face. 

Minho glanced at each of them, getting more and more confused by the second. His eyes flitted down to his clothes and back up, at the other students, the school building and back to his friends.

“Maybe he has a concussion,” Seungmin quipped. “I told those rugby guys to take it down a notch.”

Those words sounded familiar. A sense of deja vu washed over him, his hair pricking on end and a light bulb went off in his head.

This did happen before.

“Hey, Lee Minho… you're scaring me,” Hyunjin's hand held his left bicep and shook him.

“This happened before… Why am I here? I graduated school seven years…” He muttered underneath his breath.

“What are you saying? I think we need to take you to the nurse—”

Minho cut Chan off. “Today… what is today's date?”

“April 10th, why—”

“The year, Seungmin.”

“2017—”

The air was knocked out of his lungs. He was in the past. Seven years in the past. He was still in his last year of high school, liked playing soccer, never wore the uniform correctly, was still friends with Kim Seungmin—

“Y/n…” 

You would be alive. If he was right, and he was somehow transported back in time to when he was in school, you would be alive. You would be okay, not lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, waiting for your illness to consume you. 

He had another chance.

“Y/n? You mean from our class? Why d—”

Minho leaped at Hyunjin, eyes blazing with determination. He held his shoulders as he spoke again. “Where is she?”

“I think she was leaving—”

That was all Minho needed to know. He quickly grabbed his bag and bolted down the field, onto the pavement that led to the main gate. He could hear his friends calling for him, they were undoubtedly confused with his behavior, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was make sure you were alive. He spotted a girl walking, a backpack slung over her back.

There was only one way he could find out.

“Y/n?” He called, hoping he wasn't making a fool of himself in front of someone else.

The girl turned and his heart stopped.

It was you, a younger version of you, the one from the yearbook, looking at him with a confused tilt of your head. He could see your lips move, saying his name probably but he couldn't hear it. There was a gust of wind, the breeze urging him to surge forward and he did, colliding into your body and embracing you tightly. His breaths were uneven, tears forming in his eyes as he rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair.

“You're okay…” He squeezed you tighter.

You were the first one to pull away, your cheeks tinted pink. You couldn't meet his eyes. “Why did you do that? Is something wrong, Minho? Of course I'm okay…”

Minho felt something fall on his shoulder. A sakura. The cherry blossoms trees were blooming, showering the two of you in a cascade of pink petals. His eyes searched yours but he could only see bewilderment. A relieved laugh escaped him. He squatted to the ground and covered his face with his hands.

He got another chance.

Another chance with you.

He looked back up at you and felt a multitude of emotions bubble up in him, but the main one was love.

“Yeah, you're okay…”

 You're acting weird.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Wh—”

“Answer the question, please.”

“Sure, but—”

“Great.”

Minho was all smiles, he couldn't stop it. His heart was beating out of his chest as he walked alongside you, gripping onto the strap of his bag, his ears turning pink every time your shoulders brushed his. He was beyond happy, relieved, excited all at the same time. He tried to fill the silence of the walk by asking you questions like how your day had gone, what you ate for lunch, and if he could walk home with you every day.

You were completely flustered and confused, he could see that. It must be weird for you for him to come talk out of nowhere. He remembered that you had liked him since high school, so that means this would work out. He just had to act normal and make sure he would change your fate and his, to make sure that you would be with him forever.

“This is me,” you awkwardly gestured to the house the two of you had stopped in front of.

Minho nodded, feeling a little upset that you had to go away too soon. “Right… Well, I'll see you tomorrow?”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Minho. Get home safe.”

“I will,” he grinned and waved goodbye before he set for his house, turning around one last time to see you on the porch of your house doing a happy dance which made him laugh, his face flushing red.

You were okay.

And so was he.

It took him a while to find his own house from the unfamiliar neighborhood he was in. He missed living in his parent's place, with his mother's home-cooked food that hadn't eaten in ages. When was the last time he visited his mom and dad? He eagerly went up to the door and opened it, the familiar sight of the entryway making him nostalgic. 

“Someone's all smiles today,” his mom said with a chuckle, watching him untie his shoes and put on his house slippers. His mother looked younger than he had last seen her, wearing a cardigan he remembered she said that had shrunk in the washing machine. It was brand new now. “Did you have a good day today, sweetheart?”

“The best. I'll be in my room,” he said, almost tripping over his two feet in giddiness as he went up the stairs to his bedroom. It looked exactly the same as he used to have it. He threw his bag onto the floor and then himself onto his bed, breathing in the smell of the detergent on the bed sheets.

“This is crazy,” he said to himself. If all of this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Maybe he was in a coma from the car crash, but it all felt too real. He remembered this day happening before, getting hit in the head by a rugby ball, Seungmin chiding the guys who were playing with it. This was obviously not a prank, everyone looked younger and were befuddled, looking at him like he was nuts. 

He time traveled. Actually time traveled back to the past, to save you.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He even had his old phone.

Hyunjin : Minho, you're okay right? You were acting really weird.

Minho : Yeah, I'm fine. I think it I got hurt more than I thought I did

Hyunjin : Okay 🤨

Hyunjin : Why did you run off like that though? You don't even talk to Y/n and suddenly you were acting as if she was on the verge of death?

Minho : I just needed to check something.

Hyunjin : You're weird. Get some sleep and don't be late tomorrow again or Seung's going to kill you.

Minho : I won't 🙄

He was back in 2017. He was a teenager again. 

“This is so cool…”

It was something straight out of a movie. Minho felt like he was living in a fever dream, being able to relive his adolescence. Since he knew how much he could lose, he made sure to make this second chance worth it. Instead of skipping meals and eating from the vending machine, he scarfed down whatever delicious meal his mother made, making both of his parents laugh at his sudden switch in behavior. 

“Eat slowly, or you'll choke,” his dad said with a chuckle when Minho piled on more food and eagerly shoved it down his throat.

He took the opportunity to join a dance class like he did when he was a kid, knowing that he regretted not doing it years later.

Instead of wasting away in class and being moody, he studied—tried to study. 

Then again, he had you to help. Y/n, the wise one, he teased when the two of you sat together in the library during lunch on the premise of studying, but you mostly ended up laughing so hard the librarian kicked the two of you out. 

He spent more time with his friends, doing everything he was bitter about later in life.

Months passed by like this. Minho woke up in his bed every day, was greeted by his 2PM posters on his wall, ate breakfast with his parents and went to school, daydreamed about you in class much to the suspicions of his friends and walked home with you. He had to make sure nothing happened to you that would derail his plan for the perfect future.

“Do you like Y/n?” Hyunjin asked during lunch one day, pulling a chair out in front of him with a loud scraping noise. It was autumn, the air much colder in the mornings than it was a few weeks ago. The cherry blossom trees were barren, awaiting spring to bloom once more. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Hyune,” Minho greeted and continued to eat his lunch.

“Don't deflect my question. Do you like her or not?”

“And if I do?”

Hyunjin's eyes went so big Minho thought they'd fall right out of their sockets. “Seriously?”

“Why is it that interesting to you?”

“Oh, this is a golden opportunity.” Hyunjin leaned forward on his elbows on the desk.

“Why are you so interested in my love life?”

“Please, the last time you admitted to having a crush, it was on the idol singer Lee Hyori. I have a right to be curious.” Minho rolled his eyes, but he was a bit flustered. He still hadn't thought of how he would take the relationship with you to the next level. The last time he planned to confess… well, that didn't end well. “What do you like about her? She's pretty, I get that. And she's really good at art, and she's smart—”

“Have you made your point?” He raised a brow.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh. “You're so mean, Lee Minho.” He hit his shoulder lightly. “I'm just saying this, okay? But I accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation her friends were having—an accident, okay? And I think I heard Y/n's name and doctor in the same sentence.”

Minho choked, his face turning red as he coughed and picked up his water bottle to drink some water and took big gulps of air afterwards. “What?”

Hyunjin's words haunted him the whole day and then the next day because you weren't coming to school nor were you answering his texts. He was trying hard to not look desperate but he was grasping at straws. 

His mother had the worst timing when she sent him to pick up some things from the store, a loud crack of thunder and the pitter patter of raindrops beginning the second he stepped into the convenience store. He grabbed the things he needed as well as an umbrella, purchasing all of them at the register before standing outside underneath the umbrella.

The weekend rolled around and he was getting worried. What if Hyunjin was right and you had gotten into an accident? The same accident that caused you to... No, it couldn't be.

That was when he caught the familiar sight of your form, crouching on the side of the road next to a small ball of fluff. The umbrella you were using barely covered you as you were instead shielding a pair of kittens and cooing at them.

Minho's heart leaped in his chest, legs moving on their own towards you and standing right next to you, covering you with his own umbrella. You looked up and then at him, a smile breaking out on your face but this time he didn't return it.

“What happened to you? You disappeared for two days and Hyunjin said you went to a doctor and you weren't responding to me—”

“Whoa, Min, breathe,” you chuckled and stood up. “What doctor? I'm fine. I did go to the dentist though—”

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Oh.”

You laughed. “Were you worried about me?”

“Of course I was,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat and looked away from you, heart dancing in his ribcage. He'd planned to do this once before but standing in front of you, all the courage drained right out of him and he was left as a puddle of nerves. “So why didn't you come to school afterwards then?”

“I was sick.”

“You were sick. And you were out here standing in the rain for two cats?” He shook his head. “Hold this.” He pushed the umbrella he was holding into your hands and quickly shed his jacket, putting it over your shoulder and pulling the hood over your head, using it to try and dry your hair. “You're going to get sick again…” His hands stopped at the sides of your face, lips parting as he looked into your eyes.

“Thank you…” Your face was also turning red at the proximity between the two of you that he just noticed. 

Minho swallowed the lump in his throat. Now or never. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I couldn't tell you this before because I was too scared but now I know how much I have to lose—”

“What are you saying, Min —”

“Just let me finish, okay?” He took a deep breath, pushing a stand of wet hair out of your face. “I… I like you, Y/n. I love you. For a really long time, longer than you think.”

He waited with bated breath for your answer. “I like you too, Minho. I've liked you for a while now.”

He couldn't wait anymore. It was obviously too forward of him, but he'd been dreaming of this for way too long and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers again. He pulled your face towards his and crashed his lips onto yours. You let out a muffled sound of surprise but you reciprocated it, the umbrella falling out of your hands and onto the ground with a thud. Your arms rested on his shoulders while his drifted down to your waist, holding you in an embrace as he tenderly kissed you. Fireworks went off inside him. He could feel the thundering of your heart right above his. The two of you were soaked from the relentless rain, but he could care less.

He broke the kiss, forehead leaning on yours as he took a few breaths. “Sorry, I just really wanted to do that…” It was a half baked apology since he wasn't very sorry at all. His eyes were closed, taking in the intimacy of the moment.

“I liked it, don't worry. Just warn me next time, okay?”

Minho couldn’t help but tease you. “Oh so you want a next time?” He laughed loudly when you hit his arm. “Of course there will be a next time, I plan on giving you many many kisses,” he planted another one on your forehead to prove his point. He closed his eyes again and hugged you tightly.

Minho's head felt like it was splitting in two. Where was he? He blinked his eyes open, the white light above him causing him to groan. His clothes didn't feel wet anymore and he was laying down, a white blanket over him. He lifted his hand up, only to see it was bandaged.

“Why—”

Memories of the car crash flooded his mind and a flash of panic went through him. “No, no, no, no, no—” Was that really just a dream? Were you really gone? He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, chest heaving up and down until—

“Thank God you're awake,” he felt a hand brush the hair off of his forehead, the voice sounding too much like yours. But it couldn't be. All of that was in his imagination. 

Then you came into focus, your face filled with worry, eyes pink like you'd been crying for a while.

“Y-Y/n?” He lifted his bandaged hand up to your cheek. He needed to know you were real. He let out a sob of relief when he felt the warmth of your skin beneath his palm and then your own hand covering his. “You're here…”

“Of course I'm here, silly. Where else would I be?”

He pulled you onto him, tucking your head into his chest and kissed the top of your head as a few tears rolled down his cheek. “Thank goodness.” He held you like that for a while, taking in the comforting scent of your perfume mixed in with the smile of your shampoo. “What happened?”

“The car crash… you don't remember?”

“That happened?”

“Yeah, the doctor said you had a concussion. You weren't waking up… I was so scared.”

His heart broke at your words. “I'm never leaving you, never ever. You can't get rid of me that easily.” You let out a broken laugh and clung onto him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Minho was discharged a few days later. The doctor said he might experience temporary amnesia due to his head trauma and that he'd regain his memories soon. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened. He'd managed to save you. You were here with him.

The two of you took a stroll in the park, hand in hand, underneath the cherry blossoms trees. “Hey, Y/n?” He said softly, making you turn to him with a soft hum. “I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too, Minho.”

That was all he needed to hear. A breeze shook the branches of the trees and the sakuras fell once again. He squeezed your hand and continued to walk alongside you as the pink petals and flowers showered on him, and this time, you were by his side. Where you were meant to be.

Your body is tangled in Hyunjin's covers, one leg sticking out and the other wrapped up in the soft blanket, your face smushed against his pillow as you inhale his comforting scent, one of his shirt's is covering your frame as you drown in it all.

You were his the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time, you were his when he kissed you for the first time, you were his just fifteen minutes ago when the two of you fell into a passionate embrace, you are his now. Utterly his.

And the thought of that makes you smile in your half-asleep state. How can you not be sleepy?

He had tired you out, then held you close under the hot water in the shower and now you are resting in his comfortable bed, wrapped up in everything his, everything yours. The room smells like him, like you and the incense he burns. It's a comforting smell, lulling you further into dreamland.

Hyunjin is sitting in his chair, concentrated on a piece of paper as you listen to the gentle scratching of the pencil against the paper, and you know, he is probably sketching you. Again. And your heart flutters when you think about that.

Your eyes are barely opened when they find him, his profile is simply beautiful and you think he looks the best right now; after he loved you, now watching him concentrate on his art. His brows are slightly furrowed, he's biting on his lip as he tilts his head in concentration, his hand gliding over the paper with ease.

You can't help the flutter you feel in your heart, your stomach, your gut. Hyunjin always stirs up warmth and fire inside you, no matter how much of him you have, it's never enough. You always yearn for him even when he is wrapped around you.

His quiet breathing and the little sounds he makes, the sound of the pencil against paper, it's all so familiar. You continue watching him, feeling like you're floating away.

It goes on for a while, until Hyunjin turns slowly and looks at you. His eyes visibly soften, his cheeks become rosy and his lips are upturned in a small but blissful smile.

He is looking at you and you can't help the way your lips twitch as you almost start giggling. Hyunjin smirks a little, putting his pencil down and walking slowly towards the bed, in two big strides he is already hovering over your frame.

You shut your eyes, pretending to be sleeping and he reaches out and tickles your foot. You quickly retract your leg away from his wiggly fingers and hide it under the safety of the blanket.

"I knew you were awake." he says quietly, plopping down on the bed on his knees and palms, caging your body under his.

You smile but don't say anything.

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" he smirks and leans in closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "I don't think you can ignore me for too long, my flower." Hyunjin whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your heart is skipping beats already and he is just barely kissing your jawline and you cheek.

Your breath hitches when his hand finds it's way under the sheets, touching your soft thigh and running it up towards your hip. Butterflies start dancing in your stomach and you're about to melt just from that simple touch.

"Darling." Hyunjin sing-songs playfully, his fingertips ghosting under your his shirt.

You smile, trying not to burst out into giggles but he's done playing nice and his fingers start tickling you, attacking all the spots he knows will get you squirming the most.

And you're done for, your eyes flying open as you squeal and finally start giggling, your hands grabbing at his arms as he laughs and keeps attacking your sides.

"Stop! Stop!" you squeal through laughter and he chuckles, stopping finally when you looked at him.

"There you are." he coos at you, his hands coming up to cradle your face. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer so that his body is on top of yours.

Hyunjin leans in and kisses you gently, slowly, savoring the moment as all his loving feelings pour out from his lips to yours.

"Were you watching me, hm?" he asks, his lips constantly covering your skin as he keeps leaving kisses everywhere on your face.

"I was." you admit.

"I like when you do that." he smiles, his dimples showing and you have to lean in and kiss them.

"Then I'll do it always." you whisper against his lips and he kisses you again, his arms wrapping around you as your bodies tangle together.

"Are you done sketching?" you ask, touching his head and face, your fingers mapping out his features.

He chuckles a little, scooting closer to you.

"I'll never be done sketching you." he says as he pulls you into his chest, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

You shiver at his words and the closeness of his warm body, the safety and comfort his arms bring you.

Now, you can actually fall asleep.