Cryingforjae

You know it wasn't entirely his fault, he was a busy guy. If it wasn't basketball, it was school, or the frat. His mornings started off with basketball practice and his nights ended with late studying. If he did have extra time, he was glued to his phone, answering countless messages from his frat brothers as they started planning for the coming school year. There was never a moment of peace, never time to just be together without the worries of other commitments.

Your fingers tightened anxiously around your sheets as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You didn't think you were needy or clingy. You had no issue going a day or two without texts exchanged because you got busy, but these days were made up for with mountains of affection and attention. Now, you were going weeks with crumbs, feeling grateful if he even looked up from his phone to meet your eyes for a second while you tried to make conversation.

You knew relationships couldn't be perfect all the time, but this wasn't even feeling like a relationship anymore. You didn't want to keep feeling like this. You rolled onto your side and stared at Johnny's handsome, sleeping face. If he was too busy, then you'd have to step up,  step out of your comfort zone and channel your inner Johnny to save your relationship. You so badly want to save your relationship.

You started a few days later, making your way to the gym right as practice was let out. You'd listened to him complaining about his morning practice being too close to his 9 am lecture too many times for you to forget it. Just like you expected, there he was with his hair wet from a shower, backpack slung over one shoulder and gym bag over the other as he hustled with his head hung low to stare at his phone. Your breath caught it your throat just like it always did when you saw him.

You rushed to catch up to him, legs pumping quickly to catch up to his long stride, "hi, Love! I brought you coffee!"

Johnny freezes, looking up from his phone, though his fingers don't stop typing, "Bee, what are you— don't you have a class right now?"

"Class was cancelled so I decided to surprise you! Coffee and a pastry," you reply with a soft shrug, extending the cup and parchment paper bag in his direction.

He holds up a finger as if to say 'just a second' before he lifts his phone to his ear, "bro, you need to listen to me. You need to get your ass to the bank to get this issue cleared up. The fundraiser is in two weeks and our account is frozen because you forgot the fucking PIN. This is literally part of your job as treasurer!"

Your eyes widen as your boyfriend borderline yells into his phone. You've never seen him this upset, this stressed, or angry.

"No, this can't wait until tomorrow! We're already behind in planning for our booth—" Johnny stresses before stopping. His face falls, "what the hell do you mean the freezer broke? We have food in there for the booth! Jesus— fine, I'm on my way back to the house."

He hangs up, dragging his hand down his face with an exhale you assume is to calm himself down, "Bee, I have to go. I'll see you later, alright?"

He leaves you with a press of his lips on your temple, not even taking the coffee you'd bought for him as he practically runs away with a stressed hiss of, "I have class in 20, shit!"

You stand outside the gym, feeling a knot form in your throat at his casual dismissal as your arms fall to your sides. You shake your head, blinking away the stinging sensation in your eyes as you try to make sense of what just happened.

It was a poor coincidence. He had bigger issues to handle than sitting for coffee with you. A broken freezer sounded serious, so of course he had to handle that.

You closed your eyes and let out a long sigh, much like Johnny had. You just had to try again, stay hopeful and optimistic that next time, things would go your way.

A few days later, after a full day of studying for midterms, you decide you need a break. You scroll through your phone, mindlessly tapping through your go-to apps until you ultimately end up on your messages with your boyfriend. The messages that show the last three messages sent from you with no response and the last message from him from five days ago. Biting your bottom lip, you swipe into his location and find him at the frat house.

It's not too late and you know Johnny's schedule. Today, there's no practice, no labs, no classes to steal his attention. You remember clicking through Instagram stories and seeing that the guys didn't seem too busy. A spontaneous visit to the frat house had never been an issue before, so surely it wouldn't be today.

You start making your way over to the frat house before you can change your mind. The air is warm, sun setting in pink and golden hues which makes you feel a little hopeful that your efforts tonight won't be in vain.

You let yourself in, greeting the guys with a smile and a wave as you make your way up the stairs and down the hall to your boyfriend's room. You knock, receiving a grunt which you take as an invitation to enter.

"Hey, Love," you greet softly as you close they door behind you.

Johnny looks up from his textbook with his brows raised, "hey Bee, did I forget you were coming over?"

You crawl your way into his side and press a kiss to his cheek, "I finished studying for the evening and needed a break. I felt like seeing you."

He hums in agreement, "I get it, I've been studying for a few hours myself. I have a midterm tomorrow afternoon and I'm still rereading material from week two."

"You'll ace it, you always do, Love," you reply softly, kissing your way up his neck.

Your heart races in your chest, a mix of anxiety and optimism. You're not usually one to initiate any affection beyond a swift peck or hand holding. You love Johnny, more than anything, but you don't have the charisma he does. He's never turned you down before but you just feel shy trying to do something that makes you feel so out of character. He encourages your spontaneity and tells you that he loves when you surprise him with affection, but you can't help the way your heart kicks up with anxiety.

There's a flicker of excitement that ignites in your veins as a familiar sigh of relief is heard from Johnny. It makes all the anxiety melt away and allows a familiar warmth to spread throughout your body. He tilts his neck, giving you more access to his skin, even as his eyes are still glued to his textbook.

You take this as an opportunity to initiate more, he doesn't seem to find you too bothersome as your lips find his own. He sets his textbook aside, hands finding your waist as he pulls you onto his lap. His lips are slight chapped, though just as sweet as you remember as his tongue swipes against your lips to seek entrance.

You moan softly, allowing his tongue to prod into your mouth, licking against your own. His fingers tighten on your hips as your fingers tangle in his hair and tug. He groans against your mouth, lips hungry against your own. He couldn't possibly know how reassuring this is for you. He still wants you and you take full advantage of it. You kiss him hungrily, greedy to make up for all the time you've spent apart from each other.

He flips you onto your back and you whine, breaking the kiss with a hiss as your rub your back, "your book is hard." You push the book aside and cup your hand at the nape of his neck, arching up to kiss him again.

Johnny starts to apologize and blinks, a sudden clarity in his gaze, "My book… I was studying. I have to study right now. I just… I don't have time for this right now." He runs a hand through his hair as crawls off of you, "get home safe, okay? I'll call you."

He grabs his book and makes his way to his desk without a second glance in your direction where you still lay on his bed with glossy, swollen lips and out of breath. Your heart falls right into your stomach. You feel like an old toy cast aside and forgotten. You clear your throat, forcing down the thickness in your throat as you stand and straighten out your clothes, "alright… good luck on your test."

"Thanks," he mumbles, scribbling down some notes as you let yourself out of his room.

You find yourself lost in your head as you leave the house, your mind a whirlwind of anxious thoughts fighting to take root. You force those thoughts away and instead force yourself to look on the more reasonable side of things. He's just busy, he's just studying, and the frat just gets more of his attention because of the fundraiser coming up this weekend. You breathe out and wipe away a stray tear as you remind yourself that he loves you and he still wants to be with you.

Your last attempt comes after his first play-off game. The gym is filled with an electricity of excitement. The stands are filled with fans, all on the edge of their seats to see if the team will be able to secure a win. The team is just two points down, having played hard for four whole quarters, each player tired and nearly worn to the bone. There's a hunger to win, a need to prove that all the hours of extra practice weren't for nothing.

Johnny charges across the court with the ball in his possession, expertly evading the opposing players. His hands arc up at the curve of the three point line as the seconds dwindle down. The stadium goes silent, everyone holding their breath as the ball floats through the air, hits the hoop, and circles the rim, once, then twice. On it's third rotation the ball slips into the net with a satisfying swish just as time runs out, sending one half of the stadium into an excited frenzy.

Fans flood the court as the team cheers and celebrates making it to the next round of play-offs. You smile at the sight of Johnny cheering with his teammates. He's worked so hard to perfect his game, putting in so much effort at practice, the team deserves this win.

And as much as you'd love to stay an celebrate, you have a surprise for Johnny. A well-earned treat for all his hard work and playing a perfect game. He'd already told you that he was going to spend the night with you whether he won or lost, so you know your last ditch effort to save your dying relationship can still go according to plan.

As soon as you get back home, you're quick to style your hair, turn on the lamps in your room, and light every candle. Tonight has to be perfect. If it's not, you'll know what you've been dreading all along— that Johnny doesn't want you anymore.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror nervous and critical. You don't look like yourself, but you suppose that's the point. The silk camisole that covers your top half feels revealing even with most of your skin covered. The thin material does little to make you feel comfortable or confident like you'd hoped it would. You turn, letting out a judgemental hum at the sight of the tiny lace-trimmed shorts that barely cover your ass. The gloss thickly layered on your lips, shines in the low, warm light if your bedroom before you crouch down and grip at the roots of your hair with a groan of frustration, "what am I even doing?!"

You don't look like yourself, hell, you don't even feel like yourself. You don't wear lingerie! You've never felt the need and Johnny has never made you feel anything less than desirable even in your usual cotton under garments or pajamas.

Is this who you are now, a girl who uses sex to win back the affections of her boyfriend who has clearly lost interest? And it's not like you're against sex either, to each their own, everyone's bedroom life is their own business, but you never thought this would be you. You guess love makes you do crazy things and if this is what you have to do to keep Johnny, then so be it. You love him.

You hear the front door open and sprint over to your bed, situating yourself on your covers with your legs extended as you arch your back and tilt your neck in a manner you hope is sexy.

Johnny enters with a tired yawn, tossing his bags aside as he begins recounting how his coach made them all stay back to review footage that was shaky and unfocused. He'll have a team meeting in the morning to review better footage, early as usual. You hum along, barely hearing him over the pounding of your own heart in your ears as he undresses himself down to his boxers.

He hasn't even looked at you, hasn't noted the sweet scent of your special occasion perfume, or the candles that create sensual lighting in your room. He plops onto your bed with another yawn, tossing the covers open as he lays down. He finally looks at you, eyelids low and eyes red, "I'm pooped. G'night, Bee."

You blink, watching as your boyfriend succumbs to his slumber, falling asleep faster than you've ever seen before. He didn't even notice everything you did— scratch that, he didn't even notice a single thing you did. Your pajamas hardly drew his attention, hell, they didn't even make him blink.

This was the end. You've tried everything you could possibly think of and nothing worked. It's done and he doesn't even have to tell you because he's shown you. He's been showing you for weeks and you've just been too stubborn and stupid to accept the reality of the situation.

You slide off your bed and blow out each candle, turning off all the lamps, and slip into the bathroom to wipe away all your makeup before you let yourself break down. You hold your head in your hands, feeling beyond stupid for trying as hard as you did. You've made a total fool of yourself time and time again, making an effort when he didn't reciprocate even once in the last few months of your relationship.

You change out of your silk pajamas and angrily throw them in the depths of you closet in favor of your usual t-shirt and shorts. You hope you never have to see those pajamas again or relive any of the humiliation that came along with wearing them. Johnny sleeps soundly, none the wiser as you take you pillow and pad out of your room in favor of sleeping on your couch.

You cry yourself to sleep that night, tears soaking into your pillow as you experience your first heartbreak. You don't think love is even worth it if this is what the pain of losing it feels like.

You decide that you'll just slip out of his life quietly. You won't make a scene, you won't make a fuss. You don't make it anyone else's problem but your own because well, hasn't everything regarding this relationship for the last— who knows how long— been your problem anyway? You'll just take yourself off his plate so he has one less responsibility to deal with. He can go back to school, the frat, and basketball without having to juggle you too. He did it to you, so you'll just do it to him. Seems fair enough, albeit a little petty. Isn't all fair with a broken heart?

You spend weeks slipping and dodging potential meetings. You leave the library later, linger in your classes a little longer and even take the long way home. You know he won't be looking for you. He hadn't made time for you in over a month and you don't imagine he will now.

You don't answer his texts, which you figure is fine. He's not texting you about anything dire anyway. They're lighthearted texts that he's probably sending his brothers too.  It's easy to forgo your usual routine of good morning texts and updates when you merely take a scroll and see all the texts you've sent that have already gone ignored by Johnny. A few had received a heart or even a thumbs up but very rarely is there an actual response. The responses are nothing more than a "I'll be by around 8" or a "sounds good." It may be seen as self-torture to constantly read and reread your text thread, but you need the reminder so you don't fall into old habits.

You purposely skip the frat fundraiser. You know it's a big thing, Johnny had told you and you'd assumed as much. Every time you went by the house in the last few months, it was all any of the guys could talk about. It was a whole Greek life fundraiser weekend where every house had some sort of booth to bring in extra funds for potential pledges and their families. Nu Chi Tau would be barbecuing, some of the sororities were doing custom key chains or sweaters, other fraternities were having games. It was something that had sounded fun at first, spending time with your boyfriend and all his friends— your friends with good food and good times. This was probably the easiest to waive. You weren't a big fan of crowded areas or loud volume, mostly you put up with it for Johnny. Not anymore.

You decide not to go to his basketball games either. You're not his girlfriend anymore and you were never a fan of basketball before him so it's not out of the ordinary. You were never particularly fond of the whole ordeal anyway. Just like the frat events, it was always loud, expensive, crowded, and confusing. You get updates from people gossiping around campus. You know that the team has been doing well because you hear people watching the highlights or discussing big moments. You always know when there's a game on campus too. The campus is more quiet than usual as you leave the library but you can always hear the distant cheers from the gym. A part of you wishes this was totally avoidable, but basketball, Johnny in general, will never be. Johnny is an enigma and whether you like it or not, he can't be forgotten.

You'd like to say you're happy that the break up is going so smoothly. You slip out of Johnny's life with an ease you'd never imagined. Somehow that makes it hurt more than you anticipated. It feels like you've cried yourself to sleep every night and his life hasn't seemed to change in the slightest.

So much so that it takes a loss in the quarter finals, the end of midterms, and a total of 16 days for you to even see Johnny in person again. Not that you had planned it. He pops in at the end of one of your tutoring sessions with a huge smile and a bouquet, "flowers for my honeybee!"

You force your eyes away from him as you clean up your stuff, "no, thank you."

The person you were tutoring lets out a peep at the tense atmosphere and scurries out of the study room quickly. Johnny's smile falters at your reaction, but he continues, joking in the hopes of lifting the mood, "did you develop some kind of allergy?"

You sling your bag over your shoulder and shrug, "I don't think it's appropriate between us anymore."

Johnny watches as you make your way to the elevator with his face drawn in broken confusion. Not appropriate? What do you even mean by that? In what way would it be inappropriate for a boyfriend to bring his girlfriend flowers? It's not like it would be the first time he brought you flowers anyway.

By the tine his brain flicks back on, the elevator doors have already closed. He's running down the stairs to catch up with you just as you push through the doors of the library. "Honey, wait! Can we talk?" He asks breathlessly, legs burning from his sprint down far too many flights of stairs and across the first floor.

You keep walking, barely turning your head as you reply, "I don't think it's appropriate for you to call me that anymore either. Please, just keep this like we've been doing so it stays easy. On the both of us."

"Can you stop walk-" Johnny begs, finding that you're walking faster than he's ever seen before, "make what easy?"

You stop, turning in your heel which makes Johnny stumble in his stride to keep up with you. Your voice is steady even as heartbreak begs to make itself known, "this, John. Our breakup. We're done and you made that crystal clear, now leave me to heal."

Johnny feels his heart plummet right to his ass as your words register in his brain, "b-break up? No! No, we didn't!"

Your eyes instinctively flit to the people who are nearby, watching campus heart-throb, Johnny Suh, chase after the shy, history nerd. God— it makes you want the ground to open up and swallow you whole! Why is he drawing so much attention to you?! Now, he wants to give you the time of day?! "Stop chasing me!" You hiss, keeping your head down as you try to get away from everyone's judgment stares.

"We have to talk about this!" Johnny cries out, using his height advantage to stop in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

His heart breaks at the sight of the tears lining your eyes, "You don't have the time to talk and I don't even want to! I can't do this! I don't want to do this right now and now you're making everyone look at me. Just… leave me alone and stop acting like you suddenly care again."

The back of your hand wipes away a tear as you continue walking, leaving Johnny standing in the middle of campus with a broken heart and a bitter taste creeping up his throat. The plastic of the bouquet he's still clutching crinkles as his grip tightens and he clears his throat. He smiles sadly at somebody walking past him before forcing his feet to move.

As much as he wants to chase after you, he knows you need space. As much as every step away from you physically pains him, he doesn't want to be the guy who forces you to listen to him make himself sound better. He needs to show you he's better not just tell you he is.

He pushes the door to the frat house open, barely looking up from his feet on his way up the stairs. Mark pushes his door open at the same time Johnny comes to the top of the stairs looking downtrodden and frankly… broken. Mark looks at the flowers and asks with no ill intention, "hey bro, was Bee not working? She sick?"

Johnny stares distantly at the floor beneath him, "she was there but… we— we're not together?"

Mark's eyes widen in shock, "since when?!"

"I don't even know," Johnny replies with a weak shrug, trying not to break down into a sad puddle of tears and flowers.

Mark nods slowly, not sure how to react, "I guess that would explain why she stopped coming around."

Johnny's heart breaks clean in half as his head snaps up, tears in his eyes, "she did?"

"Bro, we haven't seen her around here or anywhere for over a month," Mark adds, suddenly feeling protective of you because your own boyfriend hadn't even paid attention your absence, "you didn't notice?"

Johnny feels his heartbeat start to speed up and his palms start to sweat, "I-I— no. I was so busy with play-offs, practice, midterms, and the frat. God, I'm such a piece of shit!"

Mark grimaces, not sure if he should stay here and handle Johnny's break down or if he should be heading to class. You don't give him much of a chance, not as you come stomping up the stairs with fire burning fiercely in your eyes and more amped up than Mark has ever seen you.

You'd made it half way home when the sadness turned into anger. Who did Johnny even think he was to just waltz up to you and act like everything was normal? To force you to listen to you bed? Before you even had a chance to fully process your burst of emotion, you found yourself barging into the frat house in the hopes of getting all your emotions off your chest.

You falter at the sight of Johnny at the top of the stairs, but you swallow back your hesitance, "I need to talk and I need you to listen."

Johnny nearly chokes as he hears you, but he's quick to open the door to his bedroom and let you enter. You bite your lip as you begin to pace and convince yourself not to give up. You've already made it here, you owe it to yourself to speak your mind, don't you?

The door shuts behind you both and you begin speaking before you even turn around, not giving yourself a second to fall for his stupid handsome face and sad eyes, "in the course of the last two months of our relationship I have felt the most undesirable and stupid that I have ever felt in my entire life. While I understand that you had priorities, the very least you could do was communicate that with me. Do I understand that your commitments will sometimes come before me? Of course, I do, but you didn't even say that. You used me when it was convenient for you and didn't care in the slightest about how your actions or rather, lack of actions, affected me."

"The boyfriend I had in the last month or so of our relationship was a guy I didn't recognize in the slightest. You didn't act like a boyfriend and you didn't even act like my friend! I tried to kiss you, I tried to ease your stress, I tried to do nice things for you and even went out of my comfort zone to seduce you a-a-and you made me feel like some kind of animal with fleas! I could hardly get you to even look at me or text me back and when we spent more than even 15 minutes together it was because you were using me for my bed! I'm not a hotel! I was your girlfriend!" You snap, finding your groove as you let out everything you've been holding in for weeks.

"If that was the real you then I don't want him! If the real version of you is the version who makes no time at all for a relationship that you initiated then we're done! I can't keep chasing you and putting my time and effort into a relationship where I'm made to look like a total fool time and time again. And for what? You made it quite clear that you don't want me so I acted on that."

"I want to be your boyfriend!" Johnny speaks up, voice thick with emotion as he processes all your words and just how horrible he made you feel.

You scoff and laugh bitterly, "you hardly noticed the distance between us. How long did it even take you to notice my absence, John?"

He blinks. It had taken him a long time, too long. "I know it took me a while but that doesn't mean that I don't love you. That I won't fight for our relationship and for you. You mean everything to me and I… can't lose you."

"Your words and your actions are completely contradictory. You can't ignore me and pop back into my life at your convenience. A relationship is a two way street wherein both parties make an effort, not just one of them. That's not fair at all and I'm not going to put my life on hold for my boyfriend to decide when he's ready to bless me with his attention. You may have been my first relationship, but I know that I'm not supposed to be helplessly waiting around to wait for your attention. I deserve more and I owe myself more than that."

"Honey, you deserve the world," Johnny's voice cracks as he steps closer to you, a sob choking him as he steps toward you, "I was horrible and I know that, but I'm not ready to give you up. I'm going to be better, I'm going to make time for you. I'll quit basketball and I'll leave the frat and drop some of my classes. Honey— I love you. I love you more than I've loved anyone and I would go to the ends of the earth to make you happy. I know I haven't shown you that and that I've been the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, but you know that's not me."

"You can't do that," you argue with pinched brows, "if you leave the frat then you'll have no place to live. If you quit basketball then you'll lose your scholarship. You're thinking irrationally, John. People break up all the time. You love, you learn and you move on. It's time for us to move on. I want to move on and I need you to let me do that."

"You're not people to me! I love you! I would leave everything for you and do anything for you," Johnny exclaims, cupping your face as your bottom lip begins to tremble.

You let out a shuddered exhale, "you didn't make me feel that way."

He swipes one of your tears away with his thumb, disregarding his own tears streaming down his cheeks, "I was awful, Honey, I know that. I got so hung up on everything that was happening, my head was a mess and my time management was even worse. Please trust and believe me when I tell you that I won't do the same thing again. I know I hurt you and I will never do that again. I promise on my mother's life."

You let out a thick laugh, "you can't swear on her life."

"I already did, Honey. I can't tell you how much more I mean it, but I can show you. Will you let me?"

"I don't want my heart to get broken again. If you're gonna break my heart or just forget about me again. I can't do that again."

He presses his lips to your forehead, feeling his heart skip a beat as you melt into his chest. You fit perfectly against him like you're meant to be there and his heart aches all over again for the fact that he even for a second let you believe he didn't want you. It hurts his heart even more that you were just going to let him walk out of your life like you meant nothing to him, but that's for him to work out. He rubs your cheek with his thumb, his gaze warm and loving, "it will never happen again. I swear on everything in the entire universe that holds any meaning to anyone."

"One more chance, Johnny," you whisper.

"It's the last and only chance I'll ever ask of you, Honeybee," he smiles, feeling a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. He hadn't even realized how hard it had been to breathe without you. In neglecting your relationship, he'd also been neglecting himself. These past few weeks had put him though the wringer.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders to bring you in for an embrace. He lets out a shuddering breath, a weight off his chest, even though the guilt of what he'd done to you sits heavy in his heart. He knows he can fix this, he doesn't have another choice, because just a few minutes of knowing he lost you felt like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. He would never let that happen again, ever.

He sniffles, a gentle hand running over your back in small circles, "I love you, Honey. I love you so much it's overwhelming sometimes, and I hate that I ever made you doubt that. I'm going to spend every day of the rest of my life making this up to you."

You sigh, nuzzling into his chest, "it won't take the rest of your life, John. Just remind me how much you love me, show me how much you mean what you said."

"No, my head's splitting." Jaehyun pouted, sorry for how you’ve been feeling since the very take off. 

"I'm sorry. We still have more than five hours to go,” you pouted in return, closing your eyes to let a dramatic sigh out. 

"Let me crawl over to you." You rested your chin over your palm that was laying on the divider. You forced an even cuter face expression onto your boyfriend so he’d move to the side, but he looked at you like he couldn’t hear you, taking his headphones completely off his head. 

“Huh?" He voiced out the confusion written on his face.  

"Move." You shooshed Jaehyun with your hand to the other side of his seat, leg already over the divider. 

“Baby, we're going to be told off." You rolled your eyes at his distress, proceeding with your action.

“Everyone’s asleep, it’s night.” You gestured to the ceiling of the plane, to point out the fact the lights were off. You could hear your neighbours snoring quietly in distance and flight attendants have not bothered you ever since dinner. 

There was no way anyone would notice you taking a nap on your boyfriend’s chest. He was definitely being dramatic. 

“Hi.” You flirted, palm on his chest as you tried to find a comfortable enough position to lie down. “Long time no see.” Jaehyun melted, letting his doubts go as soon as your body weight pressed him into the seat. 

He pecked your lips and shuffled a bit, letting your legs tangle up with each other. 

“I immediately feel times better,” you raised your head back up and ran your fingers up Jaehyun’s neck to get his head in your hands. Jaehyun blinked at you with a little smirk adorning his mouth. You let your teeth sink into your lower lip looking at his pretty face. You pecked Jaehyun’s cheek and pressed your face into his jaw. “No, I lied. It still feels like I’m going to pass out.” Jaehyun’s arm crawled around your waist and caressed it, mouth pressing into your temple. 

Jaehyun was a perfect pillow with a built-in heating function and sleeping on top of him indeed was a blessing, even if you had a business class seat of your own right next to him. It was practically incomparable no matter how you looked at it. But why were you even thinking about it? In your sleep?

“Take a nap, I’ll make sure I’m not moving under you,” Jaehyun pushed you a little off him and stretched his body in his seat, wiggling his butt a little over the seat and pulled you back in on top of him once he was visibly done with getting comfortable. “Okay, I’m ready to be your pillow.” You smiled and pecked his cheek once again, snuggling into him more and closing your eyes to try leaving this torturous head ache behind in the dreamland. 

That… felt weird. You felt Jaehyun’s throat move against your head and it was the very last clue for you to realise you weren’t sleeping anymore. You woke up.

Maybe because it was time for you to, maybe because he was chewing on something and given you were with your ear on his chest Jaehyun managed to wake you up. 

You raised your head up immediately, not taking a moment to figure out how long it’s been like the previous time. "What are you munching on?" 

"Ugh, my flat croissant." You acted like you couldn't notice the insinuation on my. 

It was intentional, you've had yours before you even boarded the plane; and Jaehyun was especially sulky when it came to you stealing his food. And you had a history with that, you had to admit it. 

"Can I try it?" he immediately scowled at your audacity and you’d smirked in return. Well, the game was on, he’ll end up giving it to you. Whether he wants it or not. 

“Nuh-huh." He’d cocked his eyebrow and took another tiny bite. 

"Come on." You nudged his side. 

"You tried it when you ate the same one you had for yourself.” He let a loud sigh out and you knew exactly what he was going to bring up. “Remember how we were at the grocery store and I said baby, should we buy these flat croissants to take with us on the flight? You said yes sure, and when I asked if I should get two or more, remember what you told me?” You blinked at him quietly, holding in a chuckle. “I’m fine with one, you can take more if you want to.” And that’s how you ended up with just two of these in your shopping cart. 

"You should share!" you went for the low blow. "Sharing is cari-."

"Ain't I'm already sharing my seat, my earphones, my clothes, my life, practically everything with you?" Jaehyun's brow raised in disbelief. 

"And you're complaining?" you smiled. You had the answer to that in his eyes. 

"No, I love it." Jaehyun cheesed. "I love you." he pressed his mouth flat against your cheek. “But I won’t share the pastry." 

“Please,” you sang out the e. “You have to make the list complete by adding in the food.”

“That is the only little thing I want to have to myself.” He whispered more to himself than to you, biting on his cheek before he’d looked at the flat croissant. 

Jaehyun took a demonstrative bite before your face and chewed on it with a happy smirk on his face. You furrowed your brow, pouted, then stuck with opening your mouth like he was gonna give in and let you have a bite. 

He wasn't gonna fold, you were sure. He was proving that to you by swallowing what he chewed and taking another bite. You were ready for another show of performative chewing.

When he leaned in and shoved the freshly bitten piece into your open mouth with his tongue you were nothing short but flabbergasted. You didn't expect him to play mama bird. You didn’t expect him to play along at all. 

"Ew!" You exclaimed feigning disgust, acting like his tongue in your mouth was anything new to you. 

You felt the knot tighten at the pit of your stomach. Jaehyun licked into your mouth and moved back with a smirk. You swallowed the croissant. "I want more." you whispered, leaning back into him. 

"Of what exactly?"

“Everything."

Jaehyun let the smile pass his lips as his hand reached out to your chin, pulling your face closer to his. 

You let his lips cover yours, deliberately taking care of your upper lip as he kissed you like you were the most fragile piece of art.

You pressed your palms against his chest, properly straddling his thighs and pushing your mouth firmer against his. Jaehyun moved his attention to your nape, pushing you back as your body tried to press into his more. 

“Baby, we’re on a plane.” He hiss-whispered against your lips and tried to make you slide back down from him. 

“I’m not doing anything inappropriate.” You shook your head with a little pout and got your fingers onto his scalp, pulling a little on his hair. 

“This is pretty inappropriate for a plane,” Jaehyun looked down at your thighs covering his crotch and pushed you down to the side once more. 

“Don’t be a bore.” You let your mouth into the corner of his; if he wants to be a good boy - okay. You’ll play by his rules. “Last week you promised me sex on the plane.”

“I was drunk and talking absolute bullshit,” Jaehyun chuckled and all of a sudden pulled you a little closer to him.

“You said you booked business just because the lavatory is bigger.” You teased him further. He said all of that to his friend’s face because he challenged Jaehyun’s pride of being too much of a grandpa for his age. You wanted to strongly disagree when that conversation even started, but shut your mouth as soon as Jaehyun’s mouth started bragging things you’ve never heard before. Never even imagined he’d suggest you do. 

You knew he was bluffing, you had a very good reason to believe this trip and the business seats were purchased for a special occasion, and you were sure the special occasion is you with a rock on your finger on your plane ride back home. Not to fuck. 

“Okay, okay,” he let a sigh out and moved his neck around like he was going to stand up right this moment to go there.

“I wanted to watch the movie,” you gave him a leeway, and Jaehyun happily took the bait, resting his body under you. 

“Okay, pick anything you want,” he gestured for the screen and you ran your eyes through options, choosing Hotel Grand Budapest. 

Your fingers inevitably went for Jaehyun’s side, caressing clothed skin there, and when the absentminded touch didn’t raise any suspicion on his side, your restless hand went for his stomach, chest and arm, ending up with your mouth peppering kisses over his jaw. This must be enough of a clue the touch wasn’t absentminded in the first place. 

You’d taken the earbud from his hands and rested your head once more over Jaehyun’s chest, sliding a bit more off him to not weigh him down too much and focused on the movie. 

“Baby, there’s nothing sexy about the movie?” Jaehyun snorted, catching your head. 

“You’re sexy though.” You played with your brows, extending your neck to give Jaehyun a kiss; he’d let you kiss him, kissing your lips too, and you ended up in this attempt to keep the make out quiet, even though Jaehyun’s fingers gripping onto your thigh were making it impossible for you to do it. 

He seemingly changed his opinion on plane make out’s and was indulging quite fiercely in one with you right now, lips sucking onto your upper lip, making your mouth open and give his tongue an opportunity to wrestle beautifully with yours. Your body pressed Jaehyun more into the seat and your mouth wasn’t able to hold in a gasp when your thigh brushed past his hardening crotch. 

You were hyper aware of the people surrounding you, it’s not like you were reckless. You heard a couple of them snore, you saw screens light up their seats, you were also hyper aware of the fact that the annoying sound of someone making out right next to you must be heard three rows before and after you, but it was hard to keep yourself at bay when you managed to get Jaehyun into this, and hot damn was he into this. 

His fingers trailed over your waist and you’d expected him to make you sit on top of him, but Jaehyun’s palm went elsewhere, pulling the blanket from the side of his seat to cover your bodies. Why would he do it? You weren’t cold, not when his lips trailed down from your mouth to your neck-. 

Oh.

That’s why he needed a blanket. 

Jaehyun’s palm sneaked under it and the very next moment you felt his palm press between your legs through your sweatpants. You let a surprised gasp out, you weren’t expecting to take things this much further. Jaehyun’s fingers made your right leg hook more around his waist and he’d pressed his fingers into your core with a lot more pressure than usual, keeping in mind the buffer made by your sweatpants. 

You leaned back a little and made Jaehyun give up kissing your neck; you initiated a stare off, which challenged Jaehyun into giving your aroused core deliberate strokes that he knew for sure were making the shivers run down your arms. 

Your palm slipped down his abs and teased the lower abdomen, not anything more or less, just soft strokes of your fingers where his body was covered by the underwear. His stomach was burning hot to the touch, hotter than it usually was. Maybe, because you were winded up by the publicity of this act; maybe because you were up in the sky and everything felt times stronger. Like Jaehyun’s fingers stroking you throw two layers of fabric was giving you a hard time keeping your composure, feeling the knot at the pit of your stomach get heavy already. When he didn’t even do much. 

“If we continue and anyone sees - we’re forever blacklisted from the airline.” Jaehyun broke the silent staring with a little dimple-inducing smirk of his. 

“Do you feel like stopping?” You let your fingers slip lower, brush against his hardening dick hidden by a few layers of clothes of his own. 

“Not really,” he slanted his head a little, like he wasn’t believing he was admitting it, and you smirked at him, letting your fingers boldly pass the sweatpants and get your fingers onto his underwear. You flexed your fingers a couple of times over Jaehyun’s crotch and he went for a slow, deliberate sigh from the depths of his lungs. 

“You good?” You chuckled. 

Jaehyun caught onto the teasing and went for the same sort of torture on you, passing the sweatpants layer, and damn, going even further with his fingers slipping past your panties. He’d let his finger rub against your fully soaking clit and in no time your entire brain fogged and wasn’t able to proceed with any more teasing on his body. You leaned into Jaehyun and let him kiss you, holding onto his stomach with your fingers for support. You needed this to not let yourself come within the first two minutes, to not let yourself make a sound that’ll draw all of the attention you didn’t need. 

“Baby, you have to keep it all in.” Jaehyun whispered against your mouth exactly what you’ve been thinking and you nodded, gripping onto his shoulder instead. 

Jaehyun’s fingers went further, spreading your folds as he rubbed them against your clit, going even more ahead with his middle finger spreading you open. You felt his finger pump in and out of you and rearranged the way you’ve been holding onto him up until this moment. 

You wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed your face into his collarbone, leaving your body at Jaehyun’s mercy. Letting him do things the way he wanted. 

You panted into his neck, trying to hold back from orgasming and at the same time wishing for nothing else. 

Your arms kept shivering, and you were sure now it had to do something with all those kilometres you were up in the sky. “Should I stop?” He teased into your ear and you found it in you to pinch his shoulder as a response, he cannot be serious right now. “I do feel sometimes like I’m too led on by you, maybe I should just resist this one time-,” your arm that’s been holding onto Jaehyun’s neck for dear life shifted when he moved his hand away from your slickness and you attempted choking the man that found the environment appropriate enough for teasing. This little shit, he’s always like this, he lives to be loved and needed by you and even more so lives to tease your undying love for him. Tease so he’d feel even more loved and needed in response. 

“Ouch, ouch-, okay,” Jaehyun’s free palm wrapped around your elbow to ease the chokehold. “I don't want to die on a plane; I'm sorry.” He chuckled into your ear and roughly returned his fingers where they previously were, making a loud gasp spill from your lips. 

“Jae, my head’s spinning,” you moved your head so your mouth would be next to his ear and the deafening gasps you let out were fanning exactly over his ear. 

“Just a little more-,” he’d cooed in response and your arm began to tighten around Jaehyun’s neck once more, making him tug on your elbow. “If you continue with choking my head’s going to spin too,” he breathed out of his nose. The way your thigh involuntarily rubbed against his crotch as his fingers ran over your clit must be part of this head-spinning torture of his also. 

Jaehyun’s hand twisted in your clothes, angling it so his thumb would circle around your clit and your brain gave up. Your head spun, body shuttered, toes curling. Your body swallowed Jaehyun’s fingers more, tightening around them in contractions and in a couple of seconds you went meek in his arms. 

“Did your orgasm was so good it made the plane shake?” Jaehyun sneered, lifting your head up off his shoulder to peck your lips.

“What?” You asked, fully confused. Jaehyun fixed your sweatpants over your waist and found a wet tissue to wipe his glistening hand. 

Jaehyun didn’t need to open his mouth, because the plane shook once more and you now felt what he meant - you hit the turbulence zone. You let a chuckle out piecing together his little remark and pecked his mouth. Your palm traveled south and you brushed it lightly against his crotch. He was still hard, nothing changed for him, duh. 

“You know you lowkey own me one?” Jaehyun found your palm under the blanket, covering it with his. He put more pressure on his dick and closed his eyes in pleasure. 

“I know, I’m even considering giving it to you, since you gave me a plane-shaking level of orgasm.” You smirked in response, getting your mouth covered with Jaehyun’s lips as a reward. 

It felt like the plane plunged into a flow of incoming turbulence and once more shook in a long hit that made you grip onto Jaehyun’s shoulder for a moment. 

You let your fingers stroke Jaehyun, but with the next little jolt the seatbelt sign went on. You both glanced up, but looking down into Jaehyun’s eyes it was pretty clear this time - he couldn’t care less for any signs, he needed your fingers, at least, pumping him into oblivion starting now. And you weren’t about to protest, you would gladly give him what he wants. 

Your hand once more slid to his underwear and your hand went for slow strokes, making Jaehyun’s eyes close and his chest raise faster than before. Even though his eyes were closed and he looked like he was solemnly focused on you stroking him, in about three strokes his hand cover yours and he’d stopped you. You looked at him confused as soon as he opened his pretty eyes. His eyes drifted ahead and your head peeked from his seat, to see the flight attendant going down the row and checking if the seatbelts are on for the passengers. 

Jaehyun forced your hand off him and onto his chest. His hands going gingerly onto your waist. “We’re watching a movie, he hissed into your ear and you nodded, focusing your gaze on the screen. 

You know what he did there. He wanted for both your hands to be visible for the flight attendant. To let her know that you weren’t being nasty, you were just watching a movie together. Sure, that’s what you’ve been doing. 

You blinked at the movie that was still on, feeling Jaehyun’s erection press into your knee. You had to cover it in case her eyes went south. 

You tried hard not to look at the lady approaching you, but it was hard to ignore the surprise plastered on her face upon realisation that there’s two people in this seat instead of one. Jaehyun removed the bud from his ear, that he somehow managed to find in this little act, and looked at the flight attendant. 

She looked at you instead, “Miss, the seatbelt sign is on, please return to your seat,” the lady politely gestured to the ceiling and glanced down onto your seat. 

“Yes, sure,” you casually agreed and with Jaehyun’s help crawled back into your seat. It was too fucking cold and empty. Being next to Jaehyun felt trillion times better. His eyes followed you confused, for some reason. You wondered if he was shocked at your obedience. You were just trying to not attract any attention, tried to not pay her attention to the fact your ear didn’t even have the earphone, that you were just staring at the screen with no audio. 

The lady moved on as soon as you did the seatbelt and you leaned over the divider once more to look at Jaehyun, look down onto his waist and see something you weren’t able to finish off. “How are you feeling?” You reached a hand over to pat his forearm. 

“Like we’re never flying anything but economy ever again.” You chuckled into your shoulder. 

“But you love me, and it’s not really my fault-,” you flattered your eye lashes at him. 

'You'll regret this later.” Jaehyun grumbled, trying to steady his breathing and think of something that would calm him down. 

"I'll do my best to make up for it.” You blinked at him and caught his palm with yours, lifting it to give it a tiny peck. 

He sighed, but held onto your hand regardless, letting you know he wasn’t actually mad. 

You held onto his fingers for as long as your brain allowed you to, the seatbelt sign was on for ages and you felt yourself drift away, until Jaehyun’s fingers let go of yours as soon as the seatbelt sign went off and he took off in the direction of the bathroom quicker than you could’ve imagined, taking his needed time in there.  

Oh, and your headache? It was totally gone. 

The problem with Jaehyun wasn't that he was attractive.

The problem was that he knew it.

Or at least, you strongly suspected he knew it.

Because nobody should be allowed to look that good while shelving books.

Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, he'd stroll around the library with his sleeves rolled up, forearms on display as if to taunt you, glasses sliding down his nose and acting like he personally owned every square inch of the building.

Meanwhile, you couldn't check out a book without him finding some new way to annoy you.

Not actual annoying.

The infuriating kind.

The kind where you leave smiling despite yourself.

The kind that keeps you awake later replaying conversations and kicking your feet like a love-sick fool.

The kind that turns into a six-month overdue library book because you're...hopeless.

Hopelessly in love.

And because Jaehyun is impossible.

The first month wasn't intentional.

You simply forgot.

The second month became awkward.

The third month became a challenge.

By month four, it was war.

Because Jaehyun had discovered the book was overdue.

And because Jaehyun never let anything go.

"Oh look," he'd call whenever you walked into the library. "My favourite criminal."

You'd roll your eyes.

"You're a librarian."

"Part-time librarian."

"Worse."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Then he'd grin.

And you'd hate him.

No. You absolutely love his devastatingly gorgeous smile. But you'd rather die than him ever finding that out.

Which was incredibly inconvenient.

So when month six arrived, you developed a new strategy.

Avoid him.

Specifically, avoid him so thoroughly that returning the book became impossible.

Which somehow led to you climbing through a library window at nine-thirty at night.

In hindsight, it wasn't your brightest moment.

The library was technically closed.

But the return slot had been jammed all week and you were desperate at this point.

And you'd spotted the maintenance man leaving one of the side windows cracked open.

Which felt less like breaking and entering and more like...aggressive book returning?

You dropped onto the carpet inside with all the grace of a falling bookshelf and a loud thud. Too loud for someone sneaking in.

A stack of magazines rattled, which made you freeze in place. A few seconds go by, and no alarm goes off. There's no sound at all except for the occasional car that drives by in the distance.

Reaching for the novel in your bag, you let out a sigh of relief.

"Freedom," you whisper dramatically, whilst you almost stumble over yourself to reach the return counter.

You're safe. You can put the book back and leave and nobody will ever know this has happened-

"You know breaking into a library is probably a bigger offence than an overdue book?" A deep voice says.

You nearly launch yourself into orbit at the sound.

Spinning around, you find Jaehyun leaning against a shelf.

Arms crossed, that smug smile, and entirely way too pleased with himself.

"Oh my God. You almost gave me a heartattack!"

Jaehyun chuckles.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I asked first."

"I work here."

"It's nine-thirty."

He shrugs.

"I was finishing inventory."

"You live to ruin my life, don't you?"

"I live to improve it."

"By harassing me?"

His smile widened.

"Mostly."

You rolled your eyes.

Of course. Of course, he'd be here.

Because apparently the universe itself wanted to make your life difficult.

Jaehyun pushed away from the shelf.

"You climbed through a window."

"You saw nothing."

"I saw everything."

"You are the worst."

"Yet here you are."

He took the book from your hands.

Examined it.

Then looked back up.

"Six months."

"Don't."

"Six months."

"Jaehyun."

"Six. Entire. Months."

You lunged for the book.

He lifted it over his head.

Naturally.

Because he was tall and annoying.

"Give it back."

"No."

"You child."

"You committed a crime."

"You are being dramatic."

"You broke into a library."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's insane."

With a determined huff, you stepped closer and reached again. The edge of the book brushed your fingertips, but Jaehyun effortlessly lifted it higher.

"Seriously?" you groaned.

"Seriously."

You made one last ambitious grab, rising onto your toes. Unfortunately, your balance had other plans.

Your foot caught on the leg of a nearby chair. Who even put it there?

The world tilted, and before you could fully process what was happening, you stumbled forward straight into Jaehyun's chest.

His free arm instinctively wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling.

For a moment, neither of you moved. When you look up at him, you're met with those beautiful brown eyes you've been dreaming about.

"You know," he said, "If you wanted an excuse to end up in my arms, you could've just asked. No need to blame the book."

"You are unbelievably full of yourself."

"And yet you're still in my arms."

For one horrible second, you heart stopped beating all together.

Then you shoved him away. And you could swear you saw him look at your lips for a split second before you did.

"Shut up."

His laugh followed you long after you'd stepped back.

You crossed your arms, pretending that your face doesn't feel like a thousand degrees right now.

His eyes sparkled because he knew how much it did affect you.

That was another problem.

Jaeyhyun looked happiest when he was driving you crazy.

"And also, you do know that most people just use the front door?"

"Most people don't have librarians obsessed with them."

"Oh?"

His eyebrow lifted.

The idiot.

The annoyingly attractive idiot.

"You think I'm obsessed with you?"

"I know you are."

A laugh escaped him.

"Princess."

Your stomach betrayed you immediately, as the butterflies broke free.

You hated loved when he called you princess.

Because he only did it when he wanted to watch you malfunction.

"I am absolutely not obsessed with you."

"You broke into my workplace."

"To avoid seeing you."

"Still counts."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

You stared at each other. You with fury in your eyes and he with too much amusement in his.

"You know what I think is the funniest part?"

You immediately scoffed.

"Leave me alone."

"No, hear me out."

"I'd rather not."

His grin only widened.

The problem with Jaehyun's grin was that it always meant trouble.

The bigger problem was that you secretly liked it. A lot.

"You held onto this book for six months."

You pointed at him.

"Because of you."

His eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, that's dangerous information for me to have."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"Pretty sure it was."

"It wasn't."

Jaehyun took a slow step forward.

You took one back.

"You were embarrassed."

"No."

"You were."

"No."

"You absolutely were."

Another step.

You backed away again.

Jaehyun looked far too pleased about it.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong."

"You snuck into a library at night."

"That proves nothing."

"To return a book."

You glared.

He smiled knowingly.

"The evidence is overwhelming."

You hated that smile.

You hated the way it made your stomach flip.

You hated the way he clearly knew it too.

"Besides," he continued, lazily flipping through the book in his hands, "if you were really returning it because you forgot..."

His eyes flicked up to yours.

"...you would've returned it before chapter twenty-three."

Your jaw dropped.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE?"

The look on his face was pure victory.

"Oh my God."

"You just answered your own question."

You buried your face in your hands.

Behind them, you heard Jaehyun laughing.

Actually full on laughing.

The jerk.

"That chapter, huh?"

"Stop talking."

"Interesting choice."

"Jaehyun."

"Very interesting choice."

"JAEHYUN."

His grin only got bigger.

"Good taste, though."

You made a strangled noise.

The amusement dancing in his eyes was unbearable.

And somehow incredibly attractive.

Which was honestly another one of your problems.

"You know," he said, taking another step closer, "I always wondered why you kept renewing it."

"Please stop."

"I thought maybe you were busy."

You backed away again.

"I was-"

"And then I realized you were renewing it every few days."

You hit a bookshelf.

Your heart immediately stumbled.

Because now there was nowhere else to go.

Jaehyun noticed.

His gaze flicked briefly behind you before returning to your face.

The smile he wore became slower.

More dangerous.

More teasing.

"Oh."

"Don't."

"You've run out of escape routes."

You swallowed.

"This is a library, not a hostage negotiation."

“You always this dramatic when someone catches you? I was starting to think you wanted to get caught." He says with that infuriating smirk as he grabs the shelf next to your head, caging you in.

You hated how close he was.

You hated how aware you suddenly was of every inch between you.

You hated how much he seemed to enjoy it.

You especially hated how he could practically hear your heart beating right now.

His eyes dropped to the book.

Then back to you.

"You know what's really embarrassing?"

"Everything about this conversation."

"No."

His voice lowered slightly.

"The fact that after six months, after sneaking into a locked building, after all this effort..."

He chuckled at your expression.

"...you still never asked me for recommendations."

You blinked.

"What?"

Jaehyun tilted his head.

"I work in a library."

You looked at him like he said the moon is pink.

He stared back completely serious.

Then his smirk cracked through again.

"If you're going to read something that has you blushing this hard, I could've saved you some time."

You made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a groan.

"You're impossible."

"I know."

"Insufferable."

"I know."

"Annoying."

"I know."

He looked entirely too content about it.

Then, his expression softened just enough to make your chest ache.

"And yet."

You tried so hard to hide how your breath caught.

Jaehyun's gaze lingered on yours.

The teasing was still there.

But so was something else.

Something warmer.

Something that had been there for months.

"And yet," he said again, smiling, "you keep coming back."

The butterflies in your stomach became completely unmanageable.

For a second neither of you spoke.

The library felt impossibly quiet.

Just the two of you.

The old shelves.

The dim lights.

Jaehyun looked at you for a moment.

Then shook his head softly.

"What?"

He laughed under his breath.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

His eyes sparkled.

"I was just thinking."

"That's never a good sign."

"No?"

"No."

His smile widened.

"I was thinking it's kind of unfair."

"What's unfair?"

"You spent six months reading about fictional men."

"And?"

"And now I have competition."

You stared.

Actually stared.

Because that was such a ridiculous thing to say.

Such an outrageous thing.

Such a completely Jaehyun thing.

The look on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

"You are unbelievable."

"Am I really, my princess?"

"You are."

His gaze flicked briefly to your lips for a second time that night.

Then back to your eyes.

"Good."

Before you could think of something to throw back, he leaned in. And looked back into your eyes when he was just a hair away,

"May I?"

You nodded since you couldn't trust your voice anymore.

The kiss was warm, the kind that immediately made every coherent thought disappear.

It was like nothing you imagined and everything you feared you’d have to wait for forever. Soft at first, tentative—like testing if it’s real—but the hesitation melted instantly. Every second of holding back crashes into this single, electric instant.

Your heart hammers, your chest feels too full, and the world shrinks to just the two of you. You taste the patience, the longing, the unsaid words, and it’s dizzying. Every nerve is alive, and yet, somehow, it’s calm too—like all the waiting was necessary to make this so perfect.

When he pulled away, he was still smiling.

Still looking unbearably pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes once again.

"Don't look so smug."

"I earned it."

"You absolutely did not."

His grin only grew.

Then he leaned closer, voice low enough that it felt like a secret.

"Next time you need help finding something spicy..."

Your face immediately heated.

"Jaehyun!"

You looked to your side, his profile staring up at the ceiling above you. "What the fuck, Jaehyun," you mumbled, your voice low. You looked for a long time. His throat moved, his adam's apple going up and down as he swallowed hard. "And did you consider maybe starting there, before fucking me?"

“I needed to see you. One last time.” His voice was thick, heavy with what sounded like shame.

You stayed where you were, tangled in him, head resting on his outstretched arm, limbs still joined. You squinted at the side of his face, searching for regret in it, some trace of remorse. But all you found was silence. Then, your own voice broke through: dry, almost fragile. “Get out of my house.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look your way. Just sat up in your bed, reached for his clothes, and muttered a quiet, “I’m sorry, angel,” on his way out, before closing the door quietly behind him, leaving your house like he had never been there at all.

And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t break you. You’d be lying if you said your pillow wasn’t soaked with tears that night, or that you didn’t spend the next week dissecting every moment with your best friend, wondering where it all went wrong.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t shatter you all over again — one month later — to see him across the room, sitting across a table from the girl he had chosen instead. The same girl he had left you for. That night, your heart splintered in a thousand new directions.

You met Jaehyun on a train. He was seated across from you, headphones in, sketching something in a small notebook. You hadn’t noticed him at first, too focused on the cracked screen of your phone. But when he got up without a word to let an elderly woman sit, you looked up—and caught his face. Clean lines, tired eyes, quiet.

A week later, same train. This time, he noticed you first. “You again,” he said with a small smile.

You raised a brow. “Am I being followed?”

“Maybe it’s destiny,” he replied, almost joking - but not quite - and flashed a smile that was all charm and warmth. You exchanged numbers before getting off at your stop.

Things unfolded quietly. He texted you for the first time to ask if you’d ever tried Korean cold noodles at midnight in winter. When you said no, he took you to a tiny place with fogged-up windows and metal tables. It was a dark, cold night, in the late hours of the dawn. You ate with gloves on, and he told you about how his grandma used to make him that exact dish when he was a kid. You didn’t say much, but you listened. And he noticed.

Another time, he took you to a bookshop café where he never read the books, just picked titles he thought sounded like you—"The Art of Quiet Chaos," "We Were Never Here," "On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous." He didn’t say why. He just passed them across the table with a smirk, as if they were private jokes only he understood.

One night, after you told him you'd had a particularly hard day in uni, he brought you to an abandoned rooftop. He said he used to sneak there when the world got too loud. You brought coffee in a flask. He brought his silence and listened to you vent. Then, you sat side by side watching the night sky full of stars. And at the end of the night, he gave you a soft goodnight kiss that left you wanting more.

And all this time, you didn’t notice how he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention. You didn’t catch the way his shoulders relaxed when you laughed, or how he memorised the exact way you stirred your drinks.

And when you did notice, you chose not to say anything.

And then, after one particularly still evening—just the two of you wandering a half-empty museum—he parked the car outside your building and didn’t kill the engine. “What are we doing?” he asked, hands loose on the steering wheel, voice light but careful.

You blinked. “You’re giving me a ride home?” you teased.

He chuckled under his breath but didn’t drop it. “No, really. What is this?"

You turned to face him fully, one leg tucked beneath you. “I don’t know. I’m enjoying this, Jaehyun. Do we have to label it?”

A few minutes went by with no answer and then ,you saw jaehyun nodding his head slowly. “So you’re not looking for something serious,” he said—not as a question, but as a confirmation. His tone cooled just enough to make you look at him twice.

“I’m not,” you admitted. “Not because I don’t like you. I do. I just... I’m not ready for something that demands so much. I like my space. I like my freedom. I like not having to explain myself to anyone.”

He nodded again. “Of course.”

And that was that.

Only it wasn’t.

Because after that, something in him dimmed. Jaehyun, who would always stop your makeout sessions when they got a little too heated because he wanted to 'take it slow with you', was quick to fuck you against your mattress the night right after that conversation. He stopped texting you about the weird street musician he saw on his walk home. Stopped sending you photos of sunsets he knew you'd love. Stopped making time for you between the chaos that was the life of a STEM student.

But you didn't question it because, in your eyes, he was doing everything right - not drowning you in attention, not invading your space, and giving you just the right amount of passion. You figured this was just what happened. The natural slowing down. The balancing of desire and distance. Besides, he still made you feel alive whenever he touched you. And that was enough.

Or so you told yourself.

You had always, throughout your whole life, had some problems with committing to relationships. It was hard for you to give up your independence, had always been. So the relationship you established with jaehyun was perfect for you. You got to enjoy your single independent life as well as the joys of having a loving man beside you.

Until he left you naked in your bed, after fucking your brains out, without as much as an explanation.

And it got ten times worse when you sat down in front of your way-too-nice date on a random tuesday, just to look over his shoulder and see jaehyun. His eyes on you. Unmoving.

You froze.

For a moment, you forgot how to smile, how to breathe, how to pretend. The glass in your hand felt suddenly too cold, too heavy. You blinked, once, twice, hoping it was someone else.

But it wasn’t. It was him. His dark hair was longer than you remembered, the ends brushing his cheekbones. Still as handsome as you remembered. His hands rested on the table, fingers tapping a silent rhythm you used to feel against your spine, on nights he would come to make you company.

The restaurant was dimly lit, small, quiet in that urban way: the low hum of conversation, the clinking of cutlery, jazz humming faintly through the ceiling speakers. You had picked it because it wasn’t trendy. Because you didn’t think anyone you knew would be there.

But there he was.

The girl across from him was pretty. Blonde hair, clean laugh, elegant hands with manicured nails around a glass of wine. The complete opposite of you. She reached across the table to wipe something from the corner of his mouth. He didn’t pull away like it was a familiar feeling. Familiar enough to gut you.

And yet his eyes never left you.

You forced your gaze back to your date. To his ocean-blue eyes and curly hair. You tried to focus on his voice — something about his cousin’s dog and a hiking trail with a view of the city you didn't give two shits about when jaehyun's sweet brown eyes were right there.

You nodded to what he said. Laughed when it seemed appropriate. But all you could feel was the heat rising in your chest, your throat tightening around a lump you hadn’t invited.

You found the bathroom after mumbling something about needing to check your lipstick. Your hands shook as you pushed open the door and locked it behind you. Sat on the closed lid of the toilet and stared at the tiled floor, tracing the cracks like they were a map out of this moment. You got up and leaned over the sink, staring at your reflection, makeup still intact but your skin was pale and your eyes distant.

The air in the bathroom smelled like lemon-scented cleaner and anxiety. You gripped the edge of the sink with both hands, grounding yourself with pressure. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

You closed your eyes. But even in the dark behind your eyelids, you saw him.

Jaehyun at the noodle shop, laughing into his palm when you couldn’t use the metal chopsticks properly. Jaehyun tracing the curve of your knee absentmindedly while reading something on his phone. Jaehyun gifting you a book with a pink sticky note inside that just said, “it made me think of you.”

For some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling of heavy guilt from your chest, even knowing he was the one walking out on you.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you opened your phone. No notifications. Not from him. Not from anyone that mattered.

You splashed water on your cheeks, trying to keep your makeup spotless. Patted your face dry, and walked back out. You didn’t look toward Jaehyun’s table. You didn’t have to.

You felt his gaze follow you anyway.

Later that night, after dodging the tentative kiss of your unsuccessful date, you laid in bed, but sleep didn’t come easily.

You reached for your phone, instinctively. Scrolled past the messages you’d archived a month ago just to avoid seeing his name. But tonight, you opened them. Scrolled through them and watched them grow shorter, colder, until the effort started to dissolve into silence.

You closed the messages.

Locked the phone.

Stared at the ceiling until the sun came up.

Four days passed.

You were lying on your couch, curled sideways like a comma, the light from the window pale and watery. One sock on. The other was lost somewhere in the kitchen.

Your phone buzzed once. Then twice. No anticipation. Just muscle memory. You reached for it, already expecting some useless notification—an ad, a group chat, something about the deadlines you’d been ignoring.

But it was him.

Jaehyun: the bookstore café’s shut down thought of you

You stared at the screen, blinking slowly.

It didn’t say much. It never did, with him. But the weight it carried was absurd. Of all the things he could’ve said. Of all the ways to reach out. Your thumb hovered over the reply field. You could pretend not to see it.

But you rolled your jaw slightly and typed back:

Y/n: random didn’t think you still thought about stuff like that

The message was read instantly. A minute passed.

Jaehyun: I don’t. just walked by it not that deep.

You shook your head, your mouth tightening. The way he said - casual, like you were just a passing thought. A book he once read, now covered in dust.

Y/n: then why the fuck text me that in the first place? you lost the right to text me at all the second you walked out I mean, the second you fucked me and then walked out

The typing bubble flickered into view. Then disappeared. Then came back.

Jaehyun: I just didn't know how to bring it up I didn’t lie to you you think I meant for it to go like that?

You felt real anger stir in your chest and scoffed. Actually scoffed. Alone in your apartment, with your phone in your hand and your jaw tight.

Y/n: no, I think you’re a coward you just didn’t want to say anything until after you got what you wanted sex classic so yeah, maybe don’t text me when you pass coffee shops. I’m not a fucking souvenir

That one made him take longer.

Jaehyun: don’t do that I asked to be serious, you said no, I moved on anyway, I didn’t reach out to fight with you

Y/n: I said I wasn’t ready yet. not that I didn’t want to be with you but you didn’t even give it a chance you just backed off

The three dots danced again.

Jaehyun: I left because I knew what I wanted, and you didn’t you said not to label it, so I didn’t don’t rewrite that now just because you’re mad

Y/n: so you think what you did was right? pretending that what we had meant nothing?

Jaehyun: it did mean something that’s why I didn’t want to keep dragging it out things would only get worse for me

You swallowed.

Y/n: oh yeah, poor you. you're an angel

Jaehyun: jesus, Y/N it was one message that's all it was

You stared at the last one for a while. Your phone screen dimmed. Then lit up again when you touched it.

You didn’t want to reply. You wanted to throw your phone against the wall, or maybe press call and scream at him just to hear how calm he’d be on the other end.

But instead, your thumbs moved again.

Y/n: was it all meaningless to you?

A pause. Long enough to feel like maybe he wouldn’t answer. Then he did.

Jaehyun: none of it was meaningless to me I left because it was the opposite of that you're the one who pushed me away in the first place

That one got under your skin. You sat up straighter, chest tight.

Y/n: can you stop blaming me for that? last time I checked you left me for someone else you pulled away first you changed the second I said I wasn’t ready for labels you stopped calling. You stopped showing up didn't even try you were halfway out the door before I even pushed it

Another pause.

Jaehyun: I wanted something solid you wanted space I gave it to you

Y/n: you didn’t give me space you gave up

He didn’t answer right away. You locked your phone. Set it down. Not noticing how your eyes had teared up. Picked it back up. Reopened his chat.

Jaehyun: and you never asked me to stay not once

And there it was - the guilt you had been pushing down in your chest ever since he left you that night. But you ignored it.

Y/n: I didn’t think I had to I thought you’d stay because you wanted to be with me stupid of me, I guess

Read. No reply. You were about to lock your phone again when—

Jaehyun: y/n. you told me how you liked your freedom how you didn’t do labels how you weren’t ready I tried to believe that was enough. that maybe I could live in the in-between with you but I couldn’t so I left what's so wrong about that?

You breathed in slowly. And typed.

Y/n: it's how you did it, jaehyun you never communicated how you felt and when you finally decided you'd had enough of me, you fucked me one last time and left me crying and now you're here texting me about a fucking café

Another pause.

Jaehyun: I thought about you that’s it didn’t expect it to turn into this

You sat there, chewing the inside of your cheek. You didn’t know if you were more hurt by his honesty or by how casual he still sounded.

Y/n: well it did

There was a long pause. You thought maybe that would be the end of it. That he’d finally shut up and disappear like he always did.

But then you saw him writing and deleting multiple times. Before it struck you.

Jaehyun: can we meet? just talk, clear the air

You didn’t want to go.

You told yourself that three times while putting on your coat. Five more on the bus ride there. And again while standing across the street from the park, half-convinced you’d just walk past and go home.

But you didn’t. Because a part of you wanted to see him. Needed to know if the way he’d left you—so quietly, so cruelly—had haunted him even half as much as it had haunted you.

The park was mostly empty. Overgrown grass, cracked pavement, that fountain that hadn’t worked in years. There was a sharp chill in the air, enough to cut through your sweater. You crossed your arms tighter, more for comfort than warmth.

And there he was.

Sitting on the edge of a bench like it was nothing. Like this was any other day. Jaehyun. His elbows rested on his knees, staring at the cracked pavement in front of him. His hair was messier than usual, curls pushed back with one hand like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over. His black hoodie was too thin for the weather.

He looked exactly like you remembered. You hated that you noticed all of it.

He didn't see you at first. You approached slowly, and he looked up as you did. His face stayed neutral — unreadable in the way that used to drive you insane. He stood when you got close, but didn’t move forward. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say your name. Just gave a slow nod, like you were business.

"Hey."

You didn’t say anything at first. You stayed where you were, the cold wind brushing over your skin and dark curly hair, your heartbeat loud in your ears. “I’m here,” you said eventually. “So talk.”

He nodded again, like he didn’t expect anything else. Gestured to the bench. “You can sit. If you want.”

You didn’t. “I’ll stand.”

He sat back down, leaned forward, elbows on his knees again, fingers threading together. His eyes stayed low. “I don’t have a whole speech planned or anything,” he said. “Wasn’t trying to make this into something it’s not.”

You snorted under your breath. “Right. I didn't expect you to.”

His jaw flexed. “I just thought it made sense to talk. In person.”

You didn’t answer. Just looked at him—really looked. The same long lashes. The same damn mouth you’d kissed a hundred times without thinking. And now, the sight of him made your throat ache.

He ran a hand through his hair, kept his eyes forward. “The way things ended… it didn’t feel right.”

You laughed once, short and humourless. “You think that’s what this is? You trying to make things feel right?”

Jaehyun didn’t look at you. “I didn’t plan that night like that.”

You took a sharp breath. “Yeah. Like it wasn’t a choice.”

“It wasn’t meant to go like that.”

“But it did,” you cut in, voice tight. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You fucked me, and then, when you got what you wanted, looked me in the eyes, and told me you were seeing someone. You think that doesn’t sound like it was very well planned?”

His head turned fast. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, sorry,” you said, teeth clenched. “Am I being unfair now?”

“You said you didn’t want anything serious.”

“I said I wasn’t ready,” you hissed. “Not that I didn’t care. It's not the same thing.”

"It felt the same!" he snapped, finally standing up. His voice was louder now, sharper. "You kept saying you liked your space, your freedom — that you didn’t need anyone. What the hell was I supposed to think, Y/N? You wanted me close but not too close. Wanted my heart but wouldn't give yours back."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "And you never gave me a chance to! You pulled away first. You decided I wasn’t worth waiting for."

“I waited,” he said, stepping closer. “I waited longer than you think. I kept hoping you’d just say something. Anything. That maybe one day you’d look at me and decide you wanted me the same way I wanted you. But you didn’t. You never did.”

“And so what?” you shot back. “You gave up? Just like that? You didn't even try.”

He let out a sharp laugh, bitter. "Try? I was the only one trying. You think getting you books that reminded me of you wasn’t trying? Showing up when you were stressed out, taking you for midnight rides, listening to your rants and to your silences — that wasn’t me trying?"

You stepped forward now too, close enough to see the wetness brimming in his eyes. “Then why’d you leave right after sleeping with me, Jaehyun? Why wait until after sex to tell me you were seeing someone?!”

“Because I didn’t know how to say goodbye to you!” he shouted, and his voice cracked. “Because if I’d told you before, you’d never have let me close. And I was fucking desperate to be close to you one last time. Is that what you want to hear?”

Your heart thundered in your chest. “So I was just a body to you? A goodbye fuck?”

“No!” he barked. “No, you were never just a body. Don’t you dare twist this.”

You shook your head, voice trembling now. “You didn’t just break my heart, Jaehyun. You made me feel disposable. Like all of that — everything — was only real for me.”

He stepped back, breathing hard. His hands were trembling. “It was real. All of it. That’s why it hurt so much to stay. I wanted more. I needed more. And you—” his voice cracked again, “—you didn’t.”

“And you couldn’t wait,” you said, voice low but fierce. “You couldn’t believe I’d eventually come around. You just had to run.”

“I couldn’t keep waiting for someone who never even asked me to!”

Silence fell over the both of you then, heavy and breathless. Neither of you moved.

He blinked, once, twice. Looked away, stepping away and rubbing one hand over his face. His voice, when it came, was quieter. “Shit. I didn’t mean to scream at you.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding. Your eyes were wet.

Another silence. One that said too much.

You sat down finally, feeling your legs shake beneath you. The bench was cold against your skin. A moment later, Jaehyun sat down too, but kept space between you.

“I saw you,” you said. “At the restaurant.”

He didn’t ask where. He didn’t ask when. “I didn’t know you’d be there,” he said softly.

“She touched your face like she knew it. Like it belonged to her.”

He looked at you, and his voice cracked when he said, “It doesn’t.”

You looked away. Your voice was quieter now. “Then why didn’t you come back?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.”

“You could’ve asked.”

“I’m asking now,” he said.

And your heart stopped.

Just for a second — but it was enough. Enough to make the cold in your bones feel like fire. Enough to make your ribs ache from how tightly your lungs refused to expand.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Something behind your ribs was clenching too tight, too painfully. A wall you’d built so carefully trembling at the seams. Commitment had always tasted like surrender to you — and now it loomed in his eyes like a quiet plea.

He saw it. The hesitation. The panic flickering beneath your expression. Your lips parted like you were about to say something — but no words came.

Jaehyun’s eyes dropped. And when he spoke, there was no anger left in him. Only a tired sort of softness, laced with something that felt like resignation.

“Let me take you home,” he said.

You looked at him. At the slope of his shoulders. The way he didn’t reach for your hand this time.

And then you both stood. Side by side. Not quite touching.

And walked. The bus stop wasn't far but you decided to walk your way home, because part of you didn't want your time with him to come to an end. Because there was still so much left to say.

It was quiet at first. The city had started to slow down, the occasional bike passing by, distant chatter from someone’s open window. You watched your own breath cloud in front of you.

He was the one to speak first. “You still pulling all-nighters for anatomy?”

You jokingly rolled your eyes at the topic. "All-nighters? Please, I’ve become nocturnal. I am the night."

He chuckled, then glanced at you — the laughter fading quickly.

You glanced at him. “Still at the lab until midnight?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Most nights. It’s worse now. Deadlines stacked like hell.”

You nodded again. The silence returned, but it was different this time. Not cold. Just… tentative. He kicked at a loose stone on the sidewalk. “Does your best friend think I’m an asshole?”

You let out a breath — the closest thing to a laugh you could manage. “She has her reasons.”

He looked over at you, something like a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fair.”

The walk stretched into another few blocks. Comfortable conversation between you, catching up on what you missed in each other's lives in the last month. You didn’t say to turn left where you normally would because he knew his way to your place like it was his own. When you reached your building, he hesitated at the gate.

You opened the gate and turned back to look at his calm face, soft smile, and understanding eyes. And then he mumbled, "I'll see you around."

Three days later.

You didn’t mean to text him. You really didn’t.

You’d gone the whole day pretending you weren’t still thinking about that day. About the way his eyes watered slightly, just enough for you to notice, when he raised his voice at you for the first time. About the way he looked at you like he did when it all began. Just to whisper a low 'let me take you home' with hopeless eyes full of restraint as his hand didn't even come near yours during the walk, just to end up pulling away completely.

You could still feel it — the moment slipping between your fingers. The weight of his presence. The ache of everything unspoken.

And maybe, in the back of your mind, a quiet voice had already started to admit it: That it hadn’t just been him. That your inability to commit, your insistence on space and detachment, had pushed him into the arms of something simpler.

So when you found yourself standing in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge, your thumb moved without permission.

Y/N: do you remember the name of that noodle place you took me to once? the one with no sign and metal tables. near the station, I think.

You hit send. And instantly regretted it.

Not because it was too much — but because it was too obvious. Because you didn’t ask how he was, or say you missed him, or apologise. You asked about noodles. And yet, you knew both of you would read between every line.

He read it almost immediately. No typing bubble. Just silence.

Then finally:

Jaehyun: Seong’s. the place with the tiny stools and the broken heater.

You smiled — small, involuntary — because of course he remembered the heater. You’d both frozen your asses off that night and still stayed until they kicked you out. You were the last two people in the whole restaurant, gloved hands wrapped around tin bowls, breath fogging up the windows.

Y/N: yeah. I walked past the street today and thought of it. thought of you too.

You waited. This time, the typing bubble came almost immediately.

Jaehyun: I think about you more than I should. don't know what to do with it.

Your heart thumped once, then again — slow, painful, deliberate.

You sat down on the cold tile floor, back against the fridge, and typed slowly.

Y/N: I’m not really sure what I’m doing either. I hate how we left things. i feel like there are still a lot of things to say

Another pause. You thought he might back away now. That you’d pushed the door open too far.

But then:

Jaehyun: i still don't know where you stand on this are we gonna repeat the same cycle?

You blinked.

The quiet truth of it hit you somewhere low in the gut.

Y/N: I don’t know. I think maybe I already ruined it.

He took longer this time. But you waited. You waited because for once, this wasn’t about being right. It was about being honest.

Jaehyun: you didn't.

Your eyes burned suddenly. You tilted your head back against the cold door, blinking hard.

And then you typed:

Y/N: do you want to come over?

Another long pause. You imagined him — sitting on the edge of his bed, hand running through his hair, probably staring at your message like he was afraid it was a trick.

But then

Jaehyun: I’ll be there in twenty.

You locked your phone. Got up slowly. The fridge door still hung open, humming quietly behind you.

And for the first time in days, you didn’t feel quite so cold.

When the buzzer rang, your breath caught. You stood frozen for a second, eyes fixed on the door like you weren’t sure you were ready to open it.

But your feet moved anyway. The lock clicked. The door opened.

And there he was.

Jaehyun stood in the doorway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair a little messy from the wind, eyes darker than usual beneath the yellow hallway light.

You stepped aside to let him in, wordless, and he brushed past you quietly, his shoulder grazing yours.

You didn’t expect the silence to feel this loud.

Jaehyun stood in the middle of your living room like he wasn’t sure if he should take his shoes off or leave altogether. His eyes flicked to the couch, then to the floor, then—finally—to you.

You’d never seen him look like that before. Not angry. Not cold. Just… unsure. The usually so relaxed, nonchalant guy didn't know what to do with himself.

You rubbed your arm absently, suddenly aware of the too-quiet air between you, of the slight tremble in your breath, of how small this space felt with him in it again.

“You can sit,” you said softly, not quite meeting his eyes. “If you want.”

He nodded once, then lowered himself to the edge of the couch like he was afraid of sinking too deep into anything.

You sat beside him.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. But it wasn’t easy, either. It was something else — like the space between you was fragile, waiting to be handled gently or shattered.

Your knees were barely brushing, and even that small contact made your skin feel too warm.

You glanced sideways at him. He was looking straight ahead, jaw tight, fingers laced together in his lap like he didn’t trust his hands.

“Can't believe that plant is still here,” he said quietly after a moment, looking at the dry flower you kept in your living room. “That same plant that’s always half dying.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “It’s resilient.”

“Or just neglected.”

That made you smile, a little. He didn’t.

When you turned toward him, your shoulder brushed his, and you could feel him tense beside you.

But you didn’t pull away, and neither did he.

Your eyes met.

And for a second, nothing else existed.

The room fell away. The city. The noise. The weeks. The girl he sat across from. The fear. The hesitation. The version of yourself you’d been clinging to that told you love was something you weren’t meant to hold.

None of that mattered in this breath.

You glanced at him. So many moments between you had burned, fizzled, slipped. And still, he was here. You had told yourself you didn’t need anyone. But right now, in this breathless quiet, you weren’t so sure. “I miss you,” you whispered.

It came out quieter than you meant it to — not dramatic, not even deliberate. Just honest.

He blinked. His jaw shifted, his lips parting slightly like he wasn’t sure if he should admit anything.

Then he said it.

“I never stopped missing you.”

You didn’t think. You just moved.

Your lips met in a crash of silence. There was no hesitance now — no soft lean-ins, no caution. Just heat. Raw, unfiltered heat.

The kiss stole the air from your lungs. It was gasping, hungry, too much and not enough all at once. Your hands gripped his shoulders like you were grounding yourself, his fingers already at your waist, pulling, tugging — desperate to be closer.

His mouth tasted like tension. Like weeks of withheld words and nights spent remembering the taste of you. He groaned into your mouth when your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to break his breath.

He pushed you back gently, just enough to lay you down against the couch. His body moved with yours like he remembered every angle, every breath, every whimper. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he pressed into you like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space.

Every touch was too much. Every brush of his lips down your neck was a plea. You arched into him when his hand slid under your shirt, fingertips skating up your ribs like he was rediscovering the lines of you. Your breath hitched. He paused.

"You sure?" he whispered, voice low and hoarse.

You nodded. “Yes. Please.”

Clothes came off in pieces, fumbled and frantic. His mouth never strayed far from yours. Every second without your lips felt like something was missing.

When he finally entered you, it was a slow, aching slide. A sound slipped from both of you — somewhere between relief and devastation.

You buried your face in his neck as he moved. Deep, steady, deliberate.

It wasn’t just sex. It was memory. It was longing. It was a silent scream of I’m still here.

His forehead pressed to yours, your lips brushing between every gasp. He whispered your name, almost crying it out, like it anchored him, like he was afraid he might lose you again if he didn’t say it enough.

You clenched around him, moaning brokenly into his mouth. “Jaehyun…”

“I know,” he breathed, his palm petting your messy hair. “I know.”

Your hands roamed every inch of his back, his shoulders, his chest — not like you were touching him for the first time, but like you were trying to memorise what you’d almost lost.

The world narrowed to the sound of your breaths, the slick rhythm of your bodies, the creak of the couch beneath you. The tears that slipped down your cheek weren’t from pain. Or pleasure.

They were from all the things you still couldn’t say.

And when you finally came — shuddering, clinging, whispering his name like a prayer — he followed with a broken groan against your throat.

Neither of you moved for a long time.

You stayed wrapped around each other, his arms around your waist, your fingers in his hair, your chest pressed to his.

There were no promises. No confessions.

Just breath.

Just skin.

Just this.

____

The room was now quiet and dark.

Your bodies had long since cooled from the heat, but neither of you had moved. The only light came from the streetlamp outside, flickering pale and golden through the blinds, casting slow-moving shadows across his bare chest, across your collarbone.

You lay half-draped over him, your arm on his stomach, your face near his neck. You could feel his heartbeat. It hadn’t fully steadied.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” you murmured.

Jaehyun didn’t move. “About the sex?”

You let out a soft laugh, nose brushing his jaw. “No, you idiot.”

“Because if we are,” he added, tilting his head with a playful grin, “ten out of ten. Would do again.”

You swatted his chest, a cheesy grin on your face. “Stop.”

He caught your wrist and pressed a lazy kiss to your knuckles. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

You were quiet for a moment.

“This… us,” you said. “It’s not gonna work if wekeep being so stubborn. If we both keep wanting to be right all the time.”

He blinked. “Are you about to admit I was right?”

You groaned. “God, you’re the worst.”

He laughed — that low, quiet laugh he did when he was happy and didn’t want to show it.

But then you both fell silent again.

You shifted slightly, curling into him, your face burying deeper in the curve of his shoulder. “We don’t know how to compromise.”

Jaehyun nodded. “I think we both just want to be understood. And forget to try to understand the other.”

“And we never say sorry.”

“We say sorry with sex.”

“That does not count.”

“Feels like it counts,” he muttered. You elbowed him, and he grunted, grinning despite it.

“I mean it,” you said, softer now. “If we want this… to work… we have to actually want to work for it.” You didn’t say it out loud, but you knew that if this broke again, it would break differently. Deeper.

“I do,” he said, almost immediately. “Even when you drive me insane.”

You grinned, "I do too."

A beat passed. Then his voice, slightly different now:

“You know what also drove me insane?”

You looked up at him, your chin now resting on his chest. “What?”

“That guy you were with at the restaurant.”

You blinked, a teasing grin growing on your lips. “Oh god.”

“He looked like he used the word ‘delightful’ unironically,” Jaehyun rolled his eyes in playful annoyance.

You laughed. Loud and sudden. “He literally did! Like twice!”

Jaehyun made a face of mock agony. “See? I knew it. That guy was a menace.”

“You had no right to be that mad,” you said, smirking. “You were there with your perfect jawline and your cozy sweater and your little blonde wine-sipping mouth-wiper.”

“You’re impossible.”

You shrugged. “You started it.”

He was quiet for a second. Then: “Did you kiss him?”

You tilted your head at him. “Would it ruin your night if I said yes?”

He narrowed his eyes, looking down at you with brows furrowed. “Did you?”

You paused dramatically, just to watch him squirm. Then: “No. I didn’t. I kept comparing him to you.”

“Poor guy,” Jaehyun murmured, laying his head back down, smug now. “He didn’t stand a chance.”

“You’re insufferable.” You tried to glare. It melted halfway into a smile. “What about her? What did you do to the girl,” you asked, afraid of what was to come after the question.

He shook his head. “Didn’t even hold her hand. It felt… off.”

"She seemed familiar, tho. Wiping your mouth and all that."

“Was she? Damn. Guess I was too busy trying not to choke on my wine while you played footsie with Discount Harry Styles,” he deadpanned, and you let out a surprised, loud laugh. And then, when you calmed down, "She could’ve wiped my whole face and I still wouldn’t have looked away from you.”

“First of all, it was one accidental tap. Second of all, he had great curls. You're just jealous of the curls.” You laughed together, both recognizing the teasing tone in your voice.

You both fell quiet again. But this time, it felt safe.

Then he asked — casually, like he was almost afraid of the answer — “So… what was it, really? Why did you push me away?”

Your breath caught a little.

You turned onto your side, facing him, the blanket loosely wrapped around your waist now, your arm across his chest.

“I think…” you started slowly, “I’ve just spent a long time pretending I don’t need anyone. It’s easier that way. Safer.”

He didn’t interrupt. Just watched you, his fingers tracing idle shapes on your hip.

“Every time something starts to feel real, my first instinct is to pull away. Not because I don’t care — but because I care too much. And that terrifies me.”

You swallowed.

“I get scared that if I let someone in, they’ll either want too much or leave. So I keep distance. I make jokes. I change the subject. I convince myself I’m better off alone. And then I hurt people without meaning to.”

Your voice cracked on the last part.

“I thought I was protecting myself. But I think I was just pushing away the one thing I wanted.”

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ve never wanted to be someone you're scared to love,” he said softly. “I just want to be someone who makes you feel safe. Even when you’re scared.”

Your throat tightened.

“I’m still figuring it out,” you whispered.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll figure it out together.”

And that was enough.

His lips found yours again — slow this time. No rush. No heat.

Just promise.

It wasn’t perfect. Not even close.

You still avoided your feelings when they got too big, falling into silence or forced jokes — still got scared of closeness, swallowed your feelings until your chest felt too tight, and said you were fine when you weren’t. And he still went quiet when something hurt, retreated behind his walls like silence might keep the peace and give him control of the situation, mistaking quiet for control. Years of emotional armor don’t just fall away because you finally say the things you were too afraid to say before. Not even with love. Especially not with love.

But now, you saw and understood each other.

He noticed when you started folding into yourself, even if you joked through it. He could read the tilt of your shoulder, the edge in your laugh, and knew when you were slipping beneath the surface. And he didn’t pull away anymore — he reached further. Even when you resisted, even when you said “don't insist.”. Now, he did insist.

And you stopped letting him disappear. You called him out when his messages got shorter or his eyes stopped meeting yours. You'd press, even when it turned into raised voices and late-night fights, even when he said “it’s nothing” four times in a row. You didn’t back off. Not anymore.

It was still messy. It still hurt sometimes. But you tried again.

There were two toothbrushes now. Two mugs permanently drying on the rack — yours chipped at the rim, his with fading math jokes printed on the side. A playlist you built together slowly, one song at a time. Your panties that always ended up in his drawers, his hoodie somehow always on yourchair. Texts that said “pick me up?” and replies that always said, “already outside”. Laughter — the kind that echoed off walls during burnt-toast mornings and grocery runs. Tiny arguments over dishes. Soft apologies whispered into skin. There were his arms around her waist while she brushed her teeth. Her fingers in his hair when he fell asleep on the couch mid-paper. Shared inside jokes.

And still, somehow — always — the heat. The fire.

It wasn’t just comfort. It wasn’t just routine. It was hunger, still — the kind that burned hot and fast when their eyes met across a room. The kind that had them tearing at each other’s clothes like they’d been starving. Had them tangled in sheets and gasping against doorframes like they couldn’t get close enough, bodies fitting like they were made for each other. It was his hands on her hips like he remembered every inch. It was her mouth at his neck, like she needed to leave a mark. It was hunger, still, for every version of each other. Familiar and feverish. Known and new.

But more than the heat, it was this: they didn’t leave when it got hard. They didn’t weaponize silence. They sat in the discomfort. Asked the hard questions. Stayed up too late whispering truths that hurt but mattered. They didn’t walk away.

Instead, they learned how to stay.

They weren’t perfect. But they were learning how to be soft with each other. How to fight fair. How to ask the hard questions and stay in the room even when the answers hurt. How to build something that felt like safety — not because it was easy, but because it was chosen.

And somehow — in the mess, in the noise, in the rhythm they rebuilt from the wreckage — they had become each other’s peace. Each other’s storm. Each other’s fire.

The city glittered that night, still humming from the echoes of applause and flashing cameras. Jaehyun had just come from the award ceremony, the Daesang trophy is still gleaming in his hands, his name still trending across every feed. But the noise, the lights, and the glamour mattered as much as the thought of her.

The moment he stepped through the apartment door, the familiar scent of her cooking greeted him— warm, buttery, and a little sweet, like home. “Baby, I’m home,” he called out, his voice still soft from exhaustion but tinted with a smile.

There was a shuffle of hurried footsteps, and before he could even take his shoes off, she was already running toward him.

“Sweetheart!” he laughed, barely catching his breath as she threw her arms around him. She cupped his face, peppering his lips, his cheeks, his jaw with tiny kisses between words. “I’m so, so proud of you!”

Her excitement was contagious, the kind that made Jaehyun giggle like a boy again. She smelled like specifically like tuberose and warmth and everything familiar. Her smile, bright and unguarded, made the long night worth it.

He hugged her back tightly, pressing his face into her hair. “You’re gonna make me blush,” he teased, but his voice was tender. To Jaehyun, she was more than a girlfriend. She was his home.

His biggest fan, his quiet muse, the person who waited through sleepless nights and cheered through every rough patch. The one who reminded him to eat, who listened to him ramble about melodies and scripts, who never let him forget that beyond fame, he was still just a man worth loving.

They were three years in.

Three years of rushed and slow mornings, shared takeout boxes, little notes left on mirrors. Their love was gentle and consistent, growing quietly in the spaces between days.

Jaehyun loved to provide for her. To nurture her, to protect her, to spoil her with small, thoughtful things, even jewelry that sparkled like her smile. Food that she said she wanted to try. Books she mentioned once in passing. Clothes and bag and shoes he caught her pressed a like button on Instagram. Flowers “just because.”

And she gave back in her own ways through devotion, through effort, through the quiet pride she carried for him.

She was still a student, and the way she repays his attentiveness is with her attitude in living her own life— always striking for perfection, hardworking, endlessly motivated, just like what he does in his job. Straight A’s, perfect attendance, internships lined up like stepping stones toward a bright future. She always said she wanted to make him proud.

And she did. Every single day.

They met by accident, almost like fate when you look back. It was the wrap-up party for one of Jaehyun’s dramas. She wasn’t supposed to be there. She had only come to pick up her friend, who were his junior stylist who’d still unfamiliar with her drinking limit.

He noticed her right away. Not because she was trying to stand out, but because she didn’t. She was polite, quiet, but the way she smiled when she talked to people, bright, genuine, and unfiltered caught him off guard. Not to mention her looks. She looks like an angel in his eyes.

Later, he asked his stylist to set them up. Just coffee, he’d said. Just to talk.

Coffee turned into dinner. Dinner turned into laughter. Laughter turned into something neither of them expected.

They fell into rhythm easily, like they’d been waiting for each other all along.

Through the years, they built a world together.

She was there when Jaehyun got his first win, his first record-breaking chart, his first scandal that came out of nowhere and nearly broke him. When he was lost in doubt, she was the steady anchor that pulled him back.

And he was there when she faced her own storms; when her parents passed, when the grief sat heavy on her chest and made it hard to breathe. He held her through the quiet nights, through every tear, through the silence that followed.

He was there, too, for her victories. When she finally finished her bachelor’s degree, Jaehyun was the first face she saw in the crowd—holding the biggest bouquet of white lilies and baby’s breath, smiling so bright she swore he lit up the entire hall.

After the ceremony, he slipped a small box into her hands. Inside was a watch— sleek, silver, and far too expensive for him to justify, but he just grinned when she tried to protest.

“You worked hard for this,” he’d said, fastening it around her wrist. “Let me be proud.”

He told everyone about her—his friends, his staff, even his manager. He bragged like she’d won a Nobel prize when she got scouted by a multinational company.

When she landed her first real job, he made it his mission to celebrate properly. He took her shopping for work clothes, insisting on picking every blouse and blazer himself, pretending to be the fashion expert he wasn’t. On her first day, he woke up early to drive her there, waiting in the car until she disappeared through the lobby doors. And when his schedule allowed, he’d pack her lunch, meticulously packed, with little notes tucked inside: Eat well, little baby.

They weren’t perfect. But they were each other’s.

The third year was supposed to be their year—steady, secure, finally at peace. They had survived so much, and this was meant to be the time they thrived.

Until it wasn’t.

It started small. A missed period. Then another. She brushed it off at first, blaming stress, diet, anything else. But soon, she couldn’t ignore the changes. Her body felt strange, unfamiliar. Her stomach felt tight sometimes, her appetite erratic, the morning nausea too consistent to be a coincidence.

And one evening, after sitting on the edge of her bed for what felt like hours, she gathered the courage to go out and buy a handful of pregnancy tests. She came home trembling, locking herself in the bathroom.

First time in the evening. Second time in the next morning. Third time in the afternoon. Fourth time right now.

Each one spelled the same word: Pregnant.

She didn’t have the heart to read the result, and she avoids it until the fourth time she didn’t it. Her heart dropped. She sat on the cold tile floor, staring at the tiny plastic sticks as if they might change if she just blinked long enough. But they didn’t.

The next morning, she went to the nearest gynecology clinic, the one just a few blocks from her office. Her hands shook when she filled out the forms. The doctor, who’s a woman in her forties with kind eyes performed an ultrasound quietly.

After a moment, the doctor smiled gently. “You’re about eight weeks along,” she said. “The baby’s developing well.”

She couldn’t even process the words. “But… I’m on birth control,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I never missed a day. Not even once.”

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “It happens, sometimes. Very rare, but possible.”

Her eyes filled with tears she didn’t even feel falling. “So… what now?”

The doctor hesitated, typing something on her tablet. “If you’re not ready to continue, I can write you a referral letter to a clinic that provides termination services,” she said carefully. “We don’t handle that procedure here.”

She just nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

She came home that night in a daze. The walls of the apartment felt smaller, quieter. She cooked dinner. She showered. She sat beside Jaehyun while he talked about his upcoming schedules, smiling when he smiled, laughing at all the right moments.

But she didn’t hear a word.

The next few days passed like that. She went to work, clocked in, clocked out, but her thoughts were trapped in one looping question: What am I supposed to do?

Every answer led back to him.

If she told Jaehyun, it would destroy everything he’d worked for. The career he loved. The fans who adored him. The company that would never forgive him.

And if she kept it secret… she’d be the only one to bear the cost.

She avoided him for days, claiming exhaustion, hiding the truth behind small smiles and weak excuses. She needed time to think, to plan, to be brave enough to make a decision that would break both of them.

She thought about him crying because of her. Because of this. So she made a choice.

She’d protect him, even if it meant breaking her own heart.

She started building a plan. Switzerland. Her father’s dream country. He used to talk about it often— the quiet towns, the clean air, the peace. 

Her father’s voice echoed faintly in her memory was his stories about Switzerland, the place he always dreamed of retiring. He used to say he wanted to see his grandchildren grow up there someday, in a quiet town surrounded by mountains.

After he passed, she’d learned he had a small house there, tucked away under his name.

That’s where she turned first.

She remembered that. And now, it felt like destiny.

She went through her finances carefully, calculating every possible cost. Her savings. Her insurance. Her inheritance. She contacted her father’s old attorney—an older man named Mr. Yoon who used to handle her family’s affairs—and told him she wanted to fulfill her father’s wish of “spending part of her life in Switzerland.”

He agreed to help. He handled the paperwork, reviewed the house ownership, and arranged all the documents she’d need.

Within days, everything was ready.

“Your application looks strong,” Mr. Yoon told her over the phone. “You have the inheritance, the property, and the qualifications for residency. All that’s left is your confirmation. Shall I proceed?”

She hesitated. Her hand tightened around her phone. “Not yet,” she said quietly. “Please wait until I tell you to.”

He respected that. “Of course,” he said. “When you’re ready.”

She hung up, staring at her reflection in the dark window. Everything was in place. She just had to find the strength to walk away.

But she couldn’t. Not yet.

Every time she looked at Jaehyun, his soft smile and the warmth in his voice when he said her name, she froze. She told herself she’d leave tomorrow. Then tomorrow became another day. Then another week.

When night came, she’d lie beside him and whisper, Just one more day. One more night. One more morning waking up next to him.

One more time seeing him thrives in his element. To see how he shines the brightest when doing what he likes to do in his life.

Weeks passed that way. The thought of leaving him crushed her, and she kept delaying it, waiting for the courage to do the one thing she swore was necessary.

And then, Jaehyun won his second Daesang.

She sat in front of the TV that night, watching him smile on stage, his face glowing under the lights makes her heart swell with pride and breaking at the same time. He looked so happy, so fulfilled, so radiant glowing under the lights, his smile full of everything she’d always loved about him— his passion, his grace, his endless dedication.

And she realized it was time.

Her excuse was up.

After wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and called Mr. Yoon.

“Please go ahead with my visa application,” she said quietly. “Process everything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes glistening. “I’m sure.”

She wanted him to come home to something warm, something real. So she spent the entire evening cooking his favorites — mushroom soup, steak, mashed potatoes, and even buying his favorite wine from their regular wine shop just across the street.

He deserved to be celebrated. And she wanted to be the one to do it. When they finally sat down together, it didn’t feel like a dinner but it felt like love.

He told her stories from the night, about the speeches, the laughter, the backstage chaos. She listened, eyes shining, resting her chin on her palm, smiling like she’d never get tired of hearing his voice.

He teased her for overcooking the steak a little; she rolled her eyes and said he was lucky she even cooked at all. He kissed her temple as an apology. She giggled.

Everything about them that night was full of unspoken devotion. After dinner, they moved to the living room. She put on a movie neither of them really watched, and Jaehyun sprawled out on the couch, lazily twirling his fingers, his head heavy from comfort and wine.

In the kitchen, she was taking a fresh batch of cookies out of the oven, humming softly to herself.

As the night goes deeper, Jaehyun was sprawled on the couch, a half-watched Netflix series running in the background. His hands fidgeted restlessly, rubbing his knuckles, tugging at a loose thread on his sleeve. In the kitchen, she was taking a fresh batch of cookies out of the oven, humming softly to the sound of the timer.

Jaehyun glanced at his hands again. “Shit,” he muttered. He realized it was past his nail care routine so his nails had grown longer than she liked.

“Baby,” he called out, already standing. “Can I borrow your nail clippers?”

"Yeah, it’s in my wardrobe drawer" She answered casually— absentmindedly, forgetting what she was hiding in that specific drawer.

Jaehyun walked into her room, and he pulled the drawer open, expecting the small metal clipper he always borrowed but he froze when he sees something else.

There was a neat pile of used test packs, folded clinic papers, ultrasound photos, and a sealed envelope with a hospital logo and her name typed cleanly on it.

He blinked once. Twice. Then sat down on the edge of her bed, staring.

Each test pack read the same word: Pregnant.

His heart thudded unevenly fast, heavy, panicked. He ran a hand over his face, inhaled through his nose, exhaled shakily. The images blurred as he tried to process what this meant. There were too many scenarios happening in his head, and it was stressing him out.

Yes, he dreamed of having his own family with her, but not in this way, and not now.

He went out of her bedroom, coming over to her whose eyes are glued to his new drama on TV. There were cookies and a glass of warm milk in front of her, her little domestic ritual.

He stood adjacent to her with all of the things he had found, he then called her name softly. "Baby…"

Her head turned. The color drained from her face instantly. Then, her eyes darted to his hands, to the test kits, the photos. She froze.

Oh shit.

Jaehyun could read the horror in her eyes when she saw what Jaehyun had been holding in his hand. He wasn’t supposed to find out about her pregnancy. She had no plans to tell him about it.

In her plan, as cold, careful, and cruel as it might’ve been, he was never meant to see this part of her. She had already decided to play the villain. To become the bad guy who left without reason and hurt him so he wouldn’t come after her.

“I have so much I want to do.” “I need to find myself.” “I can’t stay in Korea anymore.” Excuses that sounded believable enough, painful enough, final enough to take the blame and let him hate her if that’s what it took to keep him safe.

But never I’m pregnant. Never I’m scared.

Because she knew exactly what would happen if Jaehyun ever found out.

He was never supposed to find those test kits, those ultrasound photos, that sealed envelope with her name on it. He was never supposed to see proof of the life that was tying them together.

The look in his eyes was a mix of shock, confusion, something raw and trembling underneath, and he wouldn’t ever imagine every lie she’d built, every escape route she’d planned, had just fallen apart in his hands, would he?

There was no way to lie now. He’d already seen everything, yet, it was him that broke her, not the evidence.

It was the way Jaehyun was looking at her softly, not angry, not accusing. Just… worried. The same kind of worry he always had when she caught a fever, or forgot to eat, or worked too late. That gentle, instinctive concern that made her feel both loved and small.

She could feel her defenses unraveling under that gaze.

He’d always had that effect on her. No matter how strong she tried to be, no matter how stubbornly she held her ground, she could never withstand him when he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

And now, when he should’ve been furious, or at least disappointed, he was just here with her, giving her the gentleness she needs for now.

Jaehyun crouched in front of her, setting the items gently beside her thigh. “Want to tell me what this is?” His tone wasn’t sharp, but soft and confused.

When she didn’t speak, he reached for her hands, thumbs brushing her knuckles. “Sweetheart,” he murmured. “Is this yours? Are you pregnant?”

The tears came before she even realized it, spilling down her cheeks without her permission. She tried to look away, to hide her face behind her hands, but Jaehyun’s presence made it impossible. His silence pressed softly around her, not demanding answers, just… waiting.

She nodded slowly, barely breathing. When she senses no anger in his voice and his voice is somehow soothing her anxiety, she looks at Jaehyun with teary eyes. She broke down in front of him, silently crying in frustration and relief at the same time because Jaehyun’s response is far better than what she expected. 

Jaehyun’s chest sank. He exhaled a long, heavy sigh that sounded like it came from somewhere deep in his soul.

He stared down at the test pack still resting in his hand, the word Pregnant burning through him like a heartbeat.

Yeah, he could read the words printed in bold on the plastic, he could see her name on the ultrasound photo, the tiny smudge of what was now a life inside her— but it hit him differently when she actually said it.

Something about hearing it from her lips made it real in a way a device never could.

He sat beside her, silent for a few seconds, just watching her fall apart. His throat tightened, his mind swirling in fear, confusion, love, all tangled together but when he reached out, his hands didn’t shake.

Without another word, he pulled her into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he whispered against her hair, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “It’s okay, baby.”

He didn’t know what okay meant right now.

It didn’t mean he was ready. It didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified. It just meant she wasn’t alone.

His world was spinning too fast for him to define what came next, starting from his career, their future, to the tiny heartbeat they hadn’t planned but all that mattered was that she was trembling in his arms, and he needed her to know she was safe there.

He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, frantic and scared, and he tightened his hold as if he could shield her from everything— the world, the fear, even himself.

“Shh,” he murmured softly, rocking her just a little. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He kept hugging her to give her assurance that he would not react badly to whatever situation she’s going to explain to him. Although he wasn’t welcome to the idea of having a baby right now and he knows how fucked up his career could be if this gets to the public, he knows it must’ve been 300% harder for her to take in the situation since she is the one carrying the unwanted child in her body.

She cried quietly against him, her fingers clinging to his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her upright. He could feel her body trembling in his hold, so he hugs her even tighter. His hand soothes her back, and he gives small kisses on top of her head for long enough until she calls his name.

“Jae…” she whispered when her voice finally found strength.

He leaned back a little, brushing her hair away from her face. Her eyes were red, her lashes wet, her expression half-guilt, half-relief.

Seeing Jaehyun’s face makes her tears run down even more because he has been taking the news unexpectedly well. She knows it must’ve been hard for him too, but she knows he prioritizes her, and she is very grateful for it.

“When did you find out?” he asked softly.

“Last month,” she said, voice cracking. “It’s been twelve weeks now.”

“But you’re on birth control.” Jaehyun knows she was never not on birth control. He knows she even had alarm to take her pill. He is confused about how she can get pregnant when she’s on birth control.

“I know,” she muttered, wiping her cheeks. “They said… it’s rare, but possible.”

"I don’t know," She doesn’t even know how and what to explain. It was all white when the doctors explained to her how can it actually happened, which makes him confused even more, Jaehyun never knows that case would be possible. Never in his life he ever thought a birth control device planted inside her body could be faulty.

"It’s possible..?" He asks, not sure on how to responds to this new information.

“They- they write me a referral letter to… remove it.” Her voice broke on the last words. She swallowed hard, trembling again.

“Remove it?” His tone was quiet, but pained. “Baby, are you thinking about that?”

She shakes her head at his question and Jaehyun doesn’t really know how to respond and what to feel by her answer. He knows it will turns their life around either way. He feels like he rationally should encourage her to do what’s best for them, which is to abort the unwanted child, but Jaehyun doesn’t want to do that.

He worries more about her than his whole life career, he doesn’t have the heart to get rid of the— his child, and he couldn’t bear to see her going through any of those kind pain. Not just physically but mentally too.

“I’m scared, I don’t want to do that” she finally said, voice small, and her eyes are filled with frustration, tears are constantly streaming down her eyes, her voice is trembling. Jaehyun couldn’t help but to cry with her, understanding how overwhelming this situation is. 

"Ooh my baby.. how much have you gone through on your own?" Jaehyun’s heart feels like getting ripped into pieces to imagine how distressed and painful it is for her to endure and hide all of what she has been going through alone.

He imagined the past eight weeks. Her waking up alone, sick and scared, trying to act normal around him while her world quietly shifted inside her body. The doctor visits she must’ve gone to by herself. The fear that probably kept her up at night.

The thought made his stomach twist. He couldn’t believe she’d been carrying all that pain and God’s sake, carrying their child, without ever reaching out to him.

“God,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You must’ve been so scared.”

She didn’t answer. She only pressed her lips together, shaking, and he pulled her closer, holding her as if his arms could undo the weeks she’d spent alone.

He could feel the tremors in her shoulders, the uneven rhythm of her breath against his chest. And all he could think was how fragile she felt in his hands. All while, Jaehyun’s mind kept racing, not about the press or the company or the headlines waiting to devour him if this ever got out.

All he could think about was her.  Her health. Her heart. The small, invisible life growing inside her.

He tilted her chin up gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Have you… been feeling okay?” he asked softly. “Any pain? Morning sickness? Have you been eating enough?”

His voice trembled with genuine worry. He was desperate for details, not for control, but to understand how to take care of her. She nodded weakly, voice faint. “A little sick in the mornings. I feel tired all the time… but it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he said, shaking his head. “You should’ve told me sooner, baby. You shouldn’t have gone through this alone.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she murmured. “You’ve been so busy. And I…” Her words trailed off, her gaze flickering to the floor. “I didn’t want this to ruin anything for you. If people found out… it could all just… fall apart.”

Her voice cracked, but Jaehyun wasn’t even listening to that part. His thoughts were still stuck on her face, pale and tear-streaked, still imagining how she must’ve held it together every day while a secret like this was eating her alive.

He didn’t hear the fear in her words about his career; all he heard was the quiet echo of how alone she’d been. He brushed her hair from her face, fingers trembling. “Don’t think about that right now,” he whispered. “I just need to know you’re okay. That both of you are okay.”

She didn’t answer. She only looked at him, something tender and heavy in her eyes. She could tell his mind was somewhere else, spiraling quietly in his own panic. So she said nothing.

She just leaned into him, letting him hold her tighter.

Letting him have this moment of comfort, the same onr she didn’t know she’d been craving until now.

Her hands slipped around his waist, her cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the uneven rhythm of his heart. They stayed like that for a while.

He wasn’t an idol with a career on the line. She wasn’t a woman drowning in fear. They were just two people who loved each other so much that, even in a moment of chaos, their first instinct was to hold on tighter.

Some time later, the TV had been switched off. The room was dim, filled only with the faint smell of cookies and the sound of their breathing. They sat curled together on the couch, her head on his shoulder, his fingers tracing slow lines down her arm. Neither of them spoke for a long while.

Jaehyun’s mind wouldn’t stop, and the silence between them was filled with all the possibilities that were tearing him apart.

If he told her to remove it, if he said that word aloud, he knew what it would do. It would shatter her. He’d seen the way she trembled when she mentioned the doctor’s referral letter, how she couldn’t even bring herself to say abortion. If he pushed her toward it, she’d do it for him. He knew that. She’d do it out of love, out of fear of being a burden.

But then she’d carry that pain forever. Her body scarred, her mind haunted, her heart empty. And he’d live with it too, the guilt of asking her to destroy a part of herself, and of ending a life that, no matter how small, was his.

He couldn’t even imagine looking at her afterward, knowing he’d chosen himself over them. But if they kept the baby, if he asked her to keep it, he knew the world wouldn’t be kind.

His career would collapse overnight. The news would explode; headlines, hashtags, speculations. He could already hear the whispers in company halls, the cold, calculating tone of his managers. The brand deals would drop, fans would turn rabid. The people who once screamed his name would spit it out like a curse.

And she would be hunted. Dragged through hate, lies, death threats, paparazzi following her every move. All for something as human as loving him.

He clenched his jaw, trying to breathe through it all.

Every scenario ended the same way: with someone broken. Her. Him. The baby. No version of this was painless.

He looked at her then, at the way her lashes clung together from dried tears and the faint redness around her nose, at the small rise and fall of her chest against his shoulder.

What did she really want?

Did she want him to tell her to end it so she could stop being afraid, because maybe she didn’t have the courage to make that choice herself?

Or did she want to keep it, truly, deep in her heart, because something in her.. maybe some motherly instinct, had already accepted it?

Was it fear that made her hesitate, or love?

Was she already picturing them as a family, the three of them together, somewhere far from all of this?

He didn’t know. And that terrified him.

His throat tightened. The longer he sat there, the heavier it all felt. He felt her shift beside him, and when he turned, he saw that silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

Without saying anything, she reached for him, her hand trembling as she cupped the side of his face.

Then she pulled him close.

Jaehyun didn’t realize he’d been crying too until her thumb brushed away a tear on his cheek. She didn’t say a word. She just held him, her small fingers tracing soothing circles at the back of his neck.

Jaehyun’s hands were still on her knees, as if to ground her while thumbs drawing aimless circles against her skin. His voice trembled when he spoke, careful but heavy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly. “Were you… were you planning to hide it from me?”

She lowered her gaze, her lashes wet, tears gathering again at the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” she whispered. Her voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, barely hanging on.

Jaehyun didn’t push her. He could feel her teetering on the edge, and he knew better than to force her to fall apart again. So he stayed silent, although his mind wouldn’t rest.

Why? Why would she hide something like this from him?

Did she want to end things quietly, maybe cutting it off before it got too complicated? Or was she just scared? Scared of worrying him, of being a burden, of ruining something she thought was precious to him?

But he would’ve known eventually.

No matter how carefully she hid the test kits, no matter how quietly she tried to move through it, he would’ve noticed. Her body changing. The signs. The distance.

Why would she keep something like this from him?

The thought stung deeper than he expected.

“Jae…” Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts, small and hesitant. He hummed low in his throat. “Hmmm?”

She hesitated again, as if weighing whether to let the words out. Then she breathed out, almost trembling.

“I want to keep the baby.”

Jaehyun’s hand froze mid-stroke, as his breath caught before he even realized it. “Sweetheart…” he said softly, unsure of what to say next.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, full of tears but steady with resolve.

“I know this isn’t what you wanted,” she continued before he could say anything. “I know how much this will ruin you and everything you’ve worked for. I know that. And I don’t blame you if you don’t want this.”

Her lips trembled, but her words stayed firm. “I don’t resent you for thinking that way, Jae. You don’t have to pretend.”

His chest tightened, guilt crawling up his throat. He didn’t even know what to feel. At one point it was a relief that she wanted to keep the baby, or grief for how she said it, like she’d already decided he wasn’t part of the picture.

“You don’t have to be with me,” she said quietly, eyes glistening. “I can do this alone.”

Jaehyun’s head snapped toward her. The world tilted. His heartbeat stuttered and then thundered in his chest.

What did she just say?

Do this alone? Without him?

What did she mean he didn’t have to be with her? That she would keep the baby but leave him out of it? That she would rather disappear than let him carry the burden with her?

His mind spiraled, disbelief and panic tangling together. Jaehyun shut his eyes briefly, trying to steady his breathing, but his fingers tightening on her thighs, trembling against her skin. He exhaled sharply, trying to find his voice through the ache.

“You were planning to leave me?”

She didn’t answer, and her silence hit harder. Jaehyun turned to face her, his expression breaking apart into disbelief and hurt. “How are you gonna raise the baby alone?”

His tone sharpened, no longer the soft whisper of comfort. He wasn’t angry at her but he was terrified, because the words she spit out doesn’t make any sense.

In his mind, there were only two possible outcomes. Either she aborted the baby, although it’s something he could never forgive himself for, or they kept it, and he’d marry her, no hesitation. There was no third option.

No version of this where she carried his child and he wasn’t by her side. What kind of madness was that?

His voice cracked under the weight of it. “You were gonna do this without me? Hide from me? Pretend like I didn’t exist?”

She blinked hard, tears pooling until they spilled. “I can’t do abortion, Jae,” she said, voice trembling. “I’m so scared.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she continued, words tumbling out fast and broken.

“And I couldn’t drag you into this. Your career, your life… I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Jaehyun exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, that’s not how this should work—”

But she cut him off before he could finish.

“I’ll sign a contract, an NDA, whatever you need,” she blurted out, her hands trembling as she spoke. “Just let me keep the baby. Please, Jae. I’m so stressed just thinking about hurting it. I don’t care what happens to me, I just can’t—” Her voice broke completely. “I can’t do that to the baby.”

Her words hit him like a punch. She was terrified of the world, of him, of everything, yet still determined to face it alone.

Jaehyun’s jaw tightened. His heartbeat was deafening in his ears. “Then we raise them together,” he said, his tone low, steady, leaving no room for negotiation. “I’m not letting you do it alone.”

She looked at him like he didn’t understand, like he couldn’t possibly see the bigger picture she was trying to protect him from.

He leaned forward, his hand gripping hers. “Listen to me. I want this baby. I want you. Stop thinking I don’t. Yes, it wasn’t planned and even terrifying to think of all the possible outcomes, but I’m not walking away from either of you”

His voice wavered but didn’t break. “Do you think I could live knowing you’re out there, carrying my child, struggling alone while I’m pretending to smile for cameras?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I can’t. I’d rather ruin my career than ruin you.”

She shut her eyes tightly, tears spilling over. “No.”

It came out sharper this time. A clean, final cut.

He froze. “Why not?” His voice softened, almost pleading. “I’m the father.”

She looked away. “No. I wish you to continue living your life like this. I don’t plan on ruining your life even if I have the baby.”

Jaehyun sat there, silent, but his thoughts were anything. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and the baby. About everything that could go wrong. If this got out, he knew what would happen. All of it could crumble overnight.

And yet, somehow, that wasn’t what scared him the most. What scared him was her.

He swallowed, his voice rough. “Then what about your life? It’ll ruin yours too. I know exactly how much you’ll struggle! Do you really think I can just sit still and pretend I don’t know?”

The image of her doing this alone. Crying alone. Carrying his child while pretending everything was fine. He hated that she’d already been through weeks of that without him knowing. He hated that she’d even thought she had to.

His mind started replaying the past few weeks, every small thing that suddenly made sense.

Her body had already been changing, hadn’t it?

She’d been sleeping more than usual, curling up on the couch long before midnight, saying she was just tired from work. Her appetite was off too. She skipped breakfast most mornings, claiming she wasn’t hungry, then snacked on crackers in the middle of the night. Sometimes she’d wince quietly, hand over her stomach, but when he asked, she’d smile and say, “Just cramps, don’t worry.”

He should’ve noticed.

Her clothes had gotten looser, her mood softer, quieter.

There were moments when she’d disappear into the bathroom for too long, and he’d joke that she was taking too long fixing her hair. She’d laugh, pretending not to be pale and sweaty, and he’d brush it off like an idiot.

How many times had she looked unwell, and he just assumed she was tired? How many times had she hidden her trembling hands behind a smile, and he let her?

He rubbed his face roughly, dragging his palms over his eyes, guilt burning through him like fire. He should’ve seen something or anything.

He didn’t even know where to start, how to fix this, how to make it right. His career had always been the center of his life— his dream, his purpose, his pride. And now, for the first time, he hated it.

He hated that it was standing between him and her. Between him and the baby he didn’t even know he wanted until now.

What kind of man would he be if he just let her go through this alone? What kind of father?

He glanced at her, sitting small and broken beside him.

She looked too delicate for all of this. Her shoulders were trembling beneath his oversized shirt, her hair messy from all the crying. Her face was pale, eyes swollen, and still she looked so young— too young to be sitting here talking about something as heavy as a pregnancy.

Jaehyun’s throat tightened. She was only twenty-three, still figuring herself out, still glowing with that kind of curiosity and energy he’d always admired. She was brilliant, always had been sharp and witty, with a mind that could outsmart anyone in a room. He used to tease her for how easily she got lost in her thoughts, in her books, in the little dreams she collected. He loved that about her— how full of potential she was, how her bright future still stretched wide open ahead of her.

And now she was here, carrying his child inside her body.

The realization hit him like a wave. He ruined it for her.

He hated that his love had become something that might clip her wings. She shouldn’t have to trade her future for a mistake they never meant to make. She shouldn’t have a baby as a weight she has to drag into the years she was meant to be chasing her dreams.

She was his baby— the one he always wanted to protect from the noise, the pressure, the world that could be so cruel. But now, she was having his baby.

Her hands were trembling against her knees, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. She looked so small, and yet she was carrying a whole new life inside her, bearing the weight of something he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

He didn’t know how to process it— the fear, the awe, the guilt. What he knew was she shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Not her. Not this delicate girl who still giggled when he teased her, who still made faces when she finds a vegetables she didn’t like on her plate, who still looked at him like he was her whole world.

She reached out instinctively, touching his wrist. “Jae…”

He shook his head. “No, listen.” His eyes were glassy now. “If I have to quit, I’ll quit. I’ll save, invest, whatever it takes. I’ll prepare everything to leave with you. You and the baby come first, always.”

“Stop—” she whispered, “Jaehyun.” Her voice cracked. She grabbed his hands to make him stop. “Don’t say that.”

Tears welled in her eyes again. She pulled her hands free, covering her face.  Her voice trembled, raw and quiet. “You’ve worked your whole life for this. I know how much you love doing music. I don’t want to be the one taking it away from you.

Jaehyun moved closer, lowering her hands from her face. “You’re not taking anything away from me.”

She shook her head slowly, her lips quivering. “I know you know the consequences better than I do. It’s not worth it, Jae”

He was quietly staring at her like he was memorizing her face. Then, softly, almost brokenly, he said, “You worth so much to me, don’t say that”

“Where would you even go?” he asked, voice low, heavy with disbelief. “Just vanish with my kid and pretend I don’t exist?”

Her hands trembled, resting on her lap. “You have so much to achieve in your life… I don’t want to be an obstacle in your life.”

He stared at her for a long time that she almost thought he’d stop fighting. But then he leaned forward again, pressing his forehead to hers. His voice was barely above a whisper.

The night grew cold. The cookies were long forgotten on the table. They stayed on the couch, tangled in each other’s arms but miles apart in thought.

Jaehyun fell asleep eventually, head resting against her shoulder. His lashes were still damp, his hand still holding hers even in sleep. She turned slightly to look at him — the man who loved too deeply, too recklessly.

Her thumb brushed over his knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

She leaned forward, kissed his forehead, and let him sleep.

Outside, the city was quiet. The only sound left was her uneven breathing; the sound of a decision already forming in her chest.

The next few days passed in a blur of soft mornings and fragile normalcy. She smiled more, cooked for him, let him hold her at night but every time Jaehyun turned away, her eyes lingered too long on him, memorizing everything she knew she’d soon have to leave behind.

When he went to the studio, she started preparing quietly. She sorted through her clothes when he wasn’t home only to tell him it wouldn’t fit her anymore when he asked about it, going to her own apartment and started putting away documents and important files into a small folder. She checked for visa requirements, applies for it, do all the things she needs for her visa to be approved, and even looked up flight schedules.

She told herself it wasn’t goodbye yet, but every drawer she emptied made it feel more real.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun was doing the opposite.

He was making too many plans for them. Late at night, she’d wake up to the glow of his phone screen as he scrolled through his financial reports, his brows furrowed, lips pressed tight. He’d call people quietly, his voice low and serious, asking about investment options, property values, contracts.

In the morning, he’d act normal make her breakfast, kiss her forehead, brush his thumb over her wrist before leaving, but there was something new in his eyes now: determination.

He kept trying to talk to her about getting married before her baby bump showed.

“Baby, we should just do it quietly. No one has to know yet. We can figure out the rest later.”

She always smiled faintly, tucking his long hair behind her ear.

“Next time, Jae. Let’s talk about it next time.”

He’d sigh, press his lips to her temple, and drop it for the moment, but he always brought it up again.

She kept giving him the same answer.

“Next time.” “Later.” “We still have time.”

But they both knew time was exactly what they didn’t have.

Every “next time” made his chest feels heavier, every deflection made him hold her longer at night, his arms locked around her waist, his hand resting over her stomach and tell the baby to convince her mama to just marry daddy already. He didn’t know that she’d already booked a flight.

He thought he was buying time to build a new life, but she was buying time to say goodbye.

He told her he was ready to drop everything— the fame, the music, the cameras if it meant being with her and the baby.

“Just tell me where to go,” he said one night, brushing her hair out of her face. “Anywhere you want, I’ll go with you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I love seeing you stand on stage, singing your heart out and getting all the love you deserves, Jae.. I want you to see you spark under the beautiful lights directing at you. You shine the brightest when you sing”

She looked up at him, eyes soft but sad. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, memorizing every bit of him.

“Jae…” she whispered. “I want you to live the life you’ve worked hard on. To stand on stage so bright and alive, singing your heart out, getting all the love you deserve. I want you to keep shining like that. You shine the brightest when you do what makes you happy”

He frowned, shaking his head slightly. “What’s the point of shining if you’re not there to see it?”

She smiled faintly, even though her eyes were glossy. “I always will.” He just held her tighter, pressing his face into her neck. She smelled like jasmine and laundry soap, like home.

After that night, they fell into a rhythm that almost felt normal again. They woke up together, ate breakfast together. He’d watch her every time she got dizzy or tired, hovering close enough to catch her if she stumbled.

He became so protective it made her heart ache.

He bought every supplement that the moms on the blog recommended and kept them lined up neatly on the kitchen counter— both his and her house. When the nausea got bad, he learned how to cook plain foods ranging from variety of rice porridge to soft soups, cuts her fruit with honey, nutrients packed snacks. He even memorized what scents made her queasy and banned them from the house.

Sometimes at night when they staying the night together, he massaged her calves and ankles, rubbing slow circles to ease the soreness. Sometimes, when she was half-asleep, he’d rest his palm gently over her almost nonexistent bump, his thumb brushing back and forth, reverent and quiet because he grows to love the baby even more.

It was the kind of tenderness she’d never imagined could exist. For a brief moment, she almost let herself fall into it. She imagined a version of life where she stayed— where they raised the baby together, cooked breakfast in the same kitchen, listened to his songs while folding tiny clothes.

It felt too good.

Too easy. Too dangerous.

The world would chew him up for this, and she’d be the reason, and she wouldn’t let him pay the price for a thing he never has to burdened with.

So she set her heart again. Harder this time.

A week earlier, she’d gone to the Swiss Embassy for an interview. It was just a set of formal questions, document checks, polite smiles that felt heavier than they should. She remembered sitting across from the officer, answering every question with careful calmness while her stomach churned quietly under the weight of what this really meant.

When she left the building, she looked up at the pale sky and told herself she’d done the right thing. The embassy said they would reach out within a week. She’d nodded, thanked them, and walked away pretending her heart wasn’t breaking with every step.

Since then, she’d been staying mostly at Jaehyun’s place. It was easier that way she haf fewer moments alone with her thoughts. His house had become her safe little lie. She still woke up to his scent, cooked breakfast while he hummed his new melodies, kissed him goodbye before his rehearsals like nothing was wrong.

But today, while Jaehyun was out at rehearsal, she returned to her own apartment for the first time in weeks. She’d been expecting the letter to arrive any day now and something deep inside told her today was the day.

She walked through the quiet lobby, nodding politely to the doorman, and stopped in front of the row of mailboxes. Her fingers hesitated for just a second before unlocking hers.

There it was.

A small, crisp white envelope tucked neatly inside.

Embassy of Switzerland.

Her chest tightened. She held the envelope carefully and made her way upstairs to her unit. The apartment smelled faintly of the old candle she’d forgotten to blow out weeks ago.

She placed the envelope on the table for a moment, staring at it like it might disappear. Then, slowly, she tore it open.

Visa approved.

The words were clean and simple, terrifying in how final they felt. Her fingers trembled as she folded the paper neatly, slipped it between the pages of her passport, and tucked both into the drawer on her wardrobe. The same drawer where Jaehyun once found the test packs.

For a while, she just stood there, staring at nothing. Then she exhaled shakily, wiping her face, and moved to the closet.

If she was leaving, she might as well start now. 

She opened her suitcase, pulled the first drawer open, and began to pack her things, in a way someone dismantling a life piece by piece.

The next day, she got ready for work just like always. She tied her hair neatly, put on light makeup, picked the same blazer she always wore to the office. To Jaehyun, nothing looked different. She smiled the same way, kissed him goodbye the same way, told him she’d text when she got there — exactly like every other day.

But when she reached her office, she didn’t go straight to her desk. She walked quietly to the HR department and handed over an envelope.

“It’s my resignation,” she said with a small smile. “One month notice. Personal reasons.”

The HR officer blinked, surprised, but nodded. “We’ll process it.”

She hesitated, then added softly, “Can I ask you for one favor? Please don’t tell anyone the reason. Just say it was personal.”

Her voice was calm, polite, professional— but her fingers were twisting the strap of her bag so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

After that, she went back to her desk and worked like nothing had changed. She answered emails, joined meetings, laughed at her colleagues’ jokes. Every day for that one month, she played the part perfectly. The reliable coworker, the quiet woman who never brought her private life into work.

And every evening, she went home to Jaehyun like nothing had happened. He never noticed the faint exhaustion behind her smiles, or how she lingered a little longer each night when he hugged her goodbye in the morning.

She said nothing.

When her notice period ended, she’d still dress as if she were heading to the office— blouse, trousers, the same bag she always carried, and she’d leave right on time.

But she wasn’t going to work.

She was driving back to her own apartment, the one she hadn’t lived in since Jaehyun got out of his dorm and bought his own apartment. It was half-empty, but it still smelled faintly like her perfume. She started going there every day, quietly sorting through her belongings, deciding what to keep and what to leave behind.

She packed boxes little by little, labeling them under false names and shipping them out through private couriers so Jaehyun wouldn’t notice any missing luggage. She even arranged everything through multiple shipments, spacing them out so it wouldn’t raise attention.

She contacted a real estate agent. They met discreetly at the apartment one afternoon. “I’ll let you know when to list it,” she told the agent. “Not yet. Wait for my call.” The agent nodded, unaware of the weight behind her words.

At home with Jaehyun, everything looked the same. She still smiled when he came through the door. Still cooked his favorite meals, still curled up next to him on the couch while he talked about his studio sessions and music. She laughed when he teased her back. She leaned into his chest when he hugged her, kissed him goodnight like she always did.

Everything looked right.

But her heart wasn’t staying.

One night, they were sprawled across the couch after dinner, the faint light from the TV flickering over their skin. Jaehyun was kissing her lazily— slow and deep like he always did when words weren’t enough. His hand slid under her shirt, not with hunger but with care, resting over the small swell of her stomach.

He pulled back just a little, smiling down at her with that lazy, tender expression that always made her melt. “You know,” he murmured, his thumb tracing light circles against the small curve of her belly,  “You’ve been glowing lately,” he murmured against her lips, half teasing, half in awe.

She laughed softly, the sound small and nervous. “You’re imagining things.”

“Maybe.” He smiled, pressing another kiss to her jaw, then down to her neck. “Or maybe I just notice everything about you.”

She looked at him, trying to memorize the way he smiled with the same smile that made her fall in love with him three years ago. That gentle, unassuming grin that felt like home.

He kissed her again, slower, resting his forehead against hers when they both need an air. His voice came out so groggy, “I hired a lawyer,” he murmured. But before she could say anything, his voice dropped, serious and soft all at once.

“Someone who can help us. Make it less of a mess. They said there’s a way to handle everything quietly, no press, no noise. If we move carefully, I can protect my job… and us.”

“I’ve been thinking,” he continued, brushing her hair away from her face. “We don’t have to wait. We can get married soon. Before it shows too much. I’ll make sure everything’s ready, I promise.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Jaehyun’s eyes softened. He cupped her face, thumbs brushing the tears that threatened to form before they could fall. “So please,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Don’t even think about leaving me. I promise I’ll protect us. Both of you.”

God, he meant it. Every single word.

He wasn’t saying it out of guilt or fear but he was saying it because that’s who he was. The man who always showed up. The man who carried everything on his shoulders, no matter how heavy.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Instead, she kissed him back as if she could pour all her love and apology into that one moment. Her hand moved to his hair, her heart aching as she realized how deeply he meant every word, how certain he was of a future she could never let happen.

She gave him an answer just ambiguous enough, neither yes nor no, only a hum between kisses, the kind of silence that sounded like agreement but wasn’t one.

She had already booked her flight.

A one-way ticket to Switzerland, set for the night Jaehyun would be flying back from Los Angeles after his overseas schedule. She’d timed it perfectly. He’d be on a plane when she left. He wouldn’t even realize she was gone until hours later, when she’d already be far away, somewhere he couldn’t follow.

It wasn’t cruelty. It was precision.

She planned it thoroughly so it would hurt less, or at least, so it would hurt cleanly. No scenes. No goodbyes. No begging from him to stay, because she knew she’d never be strong enough to say no to him if he asked for her to stay one more time.

And so, for the last few weeks, she lived as though nothing had happened. She smiled. She lied. She made love, laughed, and dreamed— all while building the quiet exit that would save them both.

Every night, she watched him sleep beside her, hand resting protectively over her belly. Commemorating the last few nights she could feel his gentle touches.

The last night before his departure to L.A, when he came home tired but smiling, she hugged him tighter than usual. Usually she’d wait on the couch, scrolling on her phone or half-watching something on TV, but tonight she came straight to him— arms looping around his waist before he could even take his shoes off.

He laughed softly, surprised. “Hi, baby…”

Suddenly, she tip toed to kiss him, slinging her arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. She was never bold like this; she was shy, gentle, always waiting for him to make the first move.

Her kiss caught him off guard as her lips pressed against his with an unfamiliar confidence, igniting a warmth that surprised and delighted him. He melted into her, ever the gentleman, returning her kiss with a tender yet deep intensity, savoring the moment.

They keep kissing on the doorway, his hand steadying her waist while she clung to him, her fingers curling into his shirt, her breathing uneven. He wrapped his arms around her carefully, stroking her back.

When he pulled back, she leaned in closer, her breath soft against his ear. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice a mix of need and timidness.

“You have me, baby,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips, not yet catching the innuendo behind her words.

She shook her head, a shy blush creeping up her cheeks as she buried her face in the curve of his neck. “No…” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. “I want you to touch me.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with longing. She wants to feel him for the last time. Before she left him for good. Before she couldn’t feel his touches anymore.

He hesitated, concern flickering in his eyes. “I don’t think it’s safe for the baby, sweetheart,” he said gently, his voice laced with caution. He wasn’t sure about the risks of intimacy during pregnancy, but the thought of harming her— or their baby made him wary.

She pouted, her voice turning playful yet insistent. “It’s from the baby,” she whined, using their unborn child as her charming excuse.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Already using our baby to get your way, princess?” he teased, his tone warm with affection.

“Babe…” she whined again, her eyes pleading, tugging at his heartstrings. He could never resist her— not when she looked at him like that, not when her happiness was all he ever wanted to give her.

“Alright,” he relented with a soft laugh. “Wait for me in the bedroom. Let me wash up first.”

“No. Now,” she demanded, her voice firm but laced with a playfulness. So he scooped her up effortlessly, her legs dangling as he held her close, their faces inches apart. Her laughter bubbled up, and she peppered his face with quick, playful kisses.

“My baby’s getting impatient, I see” he teased, his eyes sparkling with adoration as he carried her to the bed. Gently, he lowered her onto the soft sheets, her giggles fading into a tender smile. A fleeting thought crossed his mind. What’s gotten into her?, but he brushed it aside, chalking it up to the wild dance of pregnancy hormones.

He leaned over her, his hands framing her face as he kissed her again, slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of her lips. She sighed into the kiss, her body relaxing beneath him, her hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders and circling it behind his neck so she could play with his hair. “You’re sure?” he asked softly, pulling back just enough to search her eyes, his voice thick with concern. “I don’t want to possibly hurt you… or the baby.”

“I’m sure,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her touch featherlight. “I promise I’ll tell you if it’s hurt.”

He nodded, his heart swelling with love and a fierce need to make her feel good. He moved with care, his hands gentle as they roamed her body, mapping the familiar curves now softened and rounded by her pregnancy. He undressed her slowly, as his fingers lingering on the swell of her belly, where their child grew. She watched him, her eyes heavy with trust and desire, letting him take the lead as she surrendered to his care.

His fingers brushed along her arms, up her shoulders, tracing the curve of her neck before resting on her cheek. When he looks at her, she can see the care and love that never wavered, no matter how much the world demanded of him.

He kissed her forehead first, then her nose, and finally her lips again in a slow and patient manner like he was memorizing her. His movements were careful, almost hesitant, the same way he’d ever hold her to make sure she felt safe.

He moved with patience and tenderness, taking care of her like she was made of glass. His love wasn’t in what he did but how he slowed down for her, how his hands is always ready to anchor her when she shivered from the pleasure, and how he kept whispering sweet nothings along her name like a prayer.

And she let herself feel every heartbeat, every sigh he let out, every trace of warmth he gave her. She memorized his face, the rhythm of his breathing, the sound of his voice murmuring soft words she could never forget.

Because she knew this was the last time she’d ever have him like this to feel his love so close it almost hurt.

So she held him tighter, letting the weight of their bodies and their love surround her. She wanted to remember it exactly as it was, his gentleness, his devotion, and the way he always put her before himself.

When he whispered her name again, she closed her eyes, letting the tears slip quietly down her cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

But he did. Of course he did.

He stopped immediately, his movements stilling as his hand moved up to cradle her face. His brows knit together, his voice soft but laced with worry. “Does it hurt, honey? Want me to stop?”

She opened her eyes, blinking through the blur of tears. All she saw was concern and his familiar tenderness that never failed to disarm her.

It wasn’t pain. It was everything else.

But Jaehyun didn’t know. He smiled softly as if to comfort her, brushing his thumb under her eye to wipe the tear away, completely unaware that each one carried a goodbye she couldn’t say out loud.

So she smiled through her tears, forcing her voice to stay steady. “No… It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “It just feels so good.”

He let out a quiet laugh, a sound that made her heart ache even more. “I know, baby,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. He pressed a kiss there, light and reassuring, still thinking it was just hormones kicking in.

He started again, picking up the same pace he left earlier to give her the pleasure she’s been craving. His touch was filled with the kind of care and devotion which only came from years of loving someone deeply.

If heaven ever existed on earth, it was this. His warmth. His love.

When they both reached their peak, he stayed there for a long moment, feeling her breathing steady against him, the warmth of her hand still resting on his chest. The world outside could have fallen apart and he wouldn’t have noticed.

She let him believe everything was fine, that they still had forever ahead of them, while she quietly memorized the way his hands felt on her skin and the warmth of his breath against her neck.

Eventually they shifted, finding the familiar rhythm of each other again. She turned onto her side and he followed, curling around her, one arm draped across her waist, his palm settling instinctively where their child grew. She laced her fingers through his and sighed, a small, content sound that eased something deep inside him.

Jaehyun pressed a final kiss to the crown of her head. Her breathing evened out first, soft and slow, and he closed his eyes, letting the calm pull him under.

For the first time in a while, sleep came easy. Two heartbeats, steady against each other, filling the room with a fragile kind of peace.

By the time dawn began to edge its way across the sky, they were still there, wrapped around each other, asleep, as if nothing had ever threatened to pull them apart. And for that brief stretch of time, the world stayed perfectly still.

Jaehyun left for Los Angeles on a Tuesday morning.

It was still dark outside when she woke to the faint sound of him moving around the bedroom— zipping his suitcase, checking his passport, quietly humming under his breath like he always did before a flight. The smell of coffee filled the air, rich and warm, and for a brief second it felt like just another morning.

She watched him from the bed, her hands folded over the barely noticeable swell of her stomach. He was dressed neatly, hair pushed back, the picture of calm professionalism— ready to be pictured by thousands of camera the moment he stepped on the airport. But she could see the weariness beneath his eyes. He’d been running on half-sleep for weeks now, trying to juggle his schedules while still making time to care for her.

He noticed her watching and smiled, that small soft curve that always melted her.

“Did I wake you?”

She shook her head, trying to smile back. “I just didn’t want to miss saying goodbye.”

He sat beside her, brushing her hair out of her face. His hand lingered on her cheek, then trailed down to rest over her stomach. His thumb moved in slow circles as he spoke.

“It’s just a few days. Promise me you’ll rest. Eat properly. Take the supplements I bought, yeah?”

Her throat felt tight, but she nodded anyway. “I will.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead — light, almost hesitant.

“I’ll call you when I land.”

She nodded again, forcing another smile. She didn’t trust her voice not to crack.

When he left, she followed him to the door. He kissed her before leaving, his hand on her belly, promising to bring back the baby’s first toy. She smiled, waved, said she’d miss him. He turned once, flashed her that boyish grin, the one that had made her fall in love with him in the first place.

She meant it.

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you too,” she managed to whisper back.

She stood there long after he disappeared into the elevator. The echo of the doors closing felt final somehow.

When she went back inside, the apartment already felt emptier and quieter in a way that made her skin crawl. His mug was still on the counter, half-drunk coffee gone cold. His jacket hung neatly by the door. His scent was everywhere— soap, cologne, a trace of warmth that made her chest ache.

She wandered through the rooms slowly, fingertips brushing over everything he had touched. The couch where they’d spent lazy evenings. The kitchen where he’d cooked when her morning sickness got bad. The bed they’d fallen asleep in just last night.

Hours passed. The light shifted from morning gray to golden afternoon, spilling across the floor in quiet patches. She finally sat down at the dining table and unfolded the printed visa approval. The paper shook slightly in her hands. Switzerland.

It felt unreal, but it was her final escape, the only way to protect him from the mess her existence would bring.

By evening, she went home without touching anything of hers in his house. She left everything behind. She wanted him to come home to pieces of her still scattered everywhere, like she’d only stepped out for a moment. Maybe it would soften the blow. Maybe it would make it harder. She wasn’t sure.

On the nightstand beside his side of the bed, she placed an envelope.

The handwriting was steady, though her heart wasn’t.

Jae, You told me you’d give up everything for us. That’s exactly why I have to go. You were born to light up every stage you’re standing on. Don’t let me take that away from you. I’ll be fine. I love you. — Always,   Your girl

She folded the letter neatly and slid the ultrasound photo underneath it— the one he’d first discovered from her drawer.

Then she sat on the bed and looked around the room. Every object carried a piece of memory, laughter, arguments, apologies, comfort. She whispered into the still air, “Thank you.”

When she finally stood, she hesitated at the door. Her hand rested on the doorknob, trembling slightly. It wasn’t hesitation about leaving— it was the weight of knowing this would break him. But she turned it anyway.

The door clicked softly behind her. The sound lingered.

She walked down the hall with her suitcase rolling quietly behind her, each step echoing against the walls. The elevator doors opened with a dull chime. She pressed the button for the lobby and watched the numbers count down, her reflection in the metal walls pale and still.

The cab she’d booked was waiting at the curb, engine humming. The driver helped her load her luggage without a word. She climbed into the back seat and whispered, “Incheon Airport, please.”

The drive was long and silent. Every building, every corner felt like it carried a memory of him— the bakery they went to almost every morning for almost 6 months because they were obsessed with the donuts there, the bridge they crossed when he first told her he loved her while holding hands. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, watching it all fade into the distance.

When the cab finally stopped, she stood for a moment outside the terminal, gripping the handle of her suitcase so tightly her knuckles hurt. She drew in a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked inside.

When she reached her gate, she sat down near the window. Planes blinked across the runway, red and blue lights cutting through the dark. Somewhere across the ocean, Jaehyun was already boarding his flight back home. She thought about him sitting there, maybe scrolling through messages, maybe thinking about what did she prepares him for dinner when he landed.

She blinked fast, forcing herself not to cry yet. Not here. Not where anyone could see.

When they called for boarding, she stood. Her legs felt heavy, but she walked forward anyway. She handed over her ticket, smiled faintly at the attendant, and stepped into the jet bridge.

The moment she sank into her seat, everything around her turned into a blur. The hum of conversation, the overhead announcements, the shuffling of passengers — it all sounded distant. She gripped the armrest when the engines began to roar.

As the plane lifted off the ground, the city lights below grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared entirely.

That was when it hit her.

She buried her face in her hands and finally broke. The tears came hard, uncontrollable. Her shoulders shook, her body curling in on itself. She didn’t cry out of fear of what was ahead or regret for what she’d done. She cried because she could already imagine the moment Jaehyun would walk through the door and find her gone— how he would look for her, call her name, wait for a reply that would never come.

She wept for the sound of his laugh, for the way he said her name, for the warmth of his hands over her belly. She wept for the life they could have had if the world had been kinder.

The flight attendant approached quietly and asked if she was okay. She nodded without looking up, pressing the heel of her hand against her eyes, trying to steady her breathing.

When she finally lifted her head, the sky outside the window was ink black, scattered with faint stars. Her reflection looked fragile, her face streaked with tears but calm now.

She exhaled, long and slow, resting her palm against her stomach. “We’ll be okay,” she whispered. “We have to be.”

The engines hummed louder, the clouds swallowed the city beneath her, and for the first time, there was no turning back.

When she already was above the sky, Jaehyun came home.

He was exhausted, jet-lagged, his body still running on Los Angeles time. The flight had been long and noisy; and all he wanted was the quiet of home— to snuggles into her arms, and tell her about the ridiculous jet lag, and to give her the tiny teddy bear he’d bought for the baby.

On the way home, he tried to call and text her but he got no answer back. It was almost late at night, so he thought maybe she falls asleep.

He unlocked the door, still tugging off his shoes, calling out lightly, “Baby? You awake?”.

No answer.

He frowned, expecting her to be asleep. But when he stepped inside, the air felt wrong. Too still. Too quiet.

“Baby?” he called again, louder this time. He moved through the apartment, his chest tightening with every empty corner he passed.

Then he saw it.

The envelope on the nightstand. He reached for it slowly, his fingers trembling before he even opened it. He read it once. Then again. The third time, his eyes stopped seeing words. Everything blurred together.

He sat down heavily on the bed, the letter clutched in his hand. His chest ached, breaths coming too shallow, too fast. The room tilted. He stared blankly at the wall, replaying every conversation they’d had in the past month, every smile, every “next time.”

He hadn’t realized those were goodbyes in disguise.

For hours, he didn’t move. The only sound in the apartment was his breathing— uneven, broken, the quiet unraveling of someone who had just lost something he didn’t know how to live without.

When morning came, he drove to her old apartment, still wearing the same clothes, eyes bloodshot, hair unkempt. The building manager recognized him instantly but said nothing as he passed. 

Her door was locked. The sign taped beside it read For Sale.

He stood there for a long time, staring at those two words. Then his knees buckled, and he pressed his forehead against the cold wood of the door.

“Please,” he whispered, voice raw. “Please don’t do this to me.”

But the silence answered back.

After a while, when the numbness started to fade and panic began to crawl up his chest again, he forced himself to move. There had to be someone who knew something. Anyone.

He walked down to the security office, his steps uneven, his voice trembling when he spoke.

“The woman who lived in 459— do you know where she went?”

The old guard looked up from his newspaper, startled. “Ah… she moved out.”

“When? Where?” Jaehyun pressed.

The man frowned, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “A few weeks ago, maybe. She didn’t say where. Said she was going overseas, but I don’t know where exactly.”

That was all. No address. No number. Nothing.

Jaehyun thanked him quietly and walked back out into the street. His hands were shaking so badly that he shoved them into his pockets just to hide it.

He ended up driving to her office next, not even thinking about what he’d say. He waited in the lobby for hours, sitting there with his cap pulled low, ignoring the curious stares of the employees passing by.

Finally, he spotted a familiar face— a woman she’d once mentioned, the one who sat beside her desk, who goes crazy for iced lattes and had a samoyed dog named Leo.

He stood and hurried toward her.

“Excuse me… you work with—” he stopped himself, voice cracking on her name. “With her, right?”

The woman blinked in surprise, recognizing him immediately but too stunned to comment. “Oh… yes, I did. But she left. She resigned about a month ago.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

She hesitated, pity flickering in her eyes. “No. She just told HR it was for personal reasons. She didn’t tell anyone much else.”

Jaehyun stared at her, waiting for her to change her answer, to add something, anything — but she didn’t.

He nodded once, muttered a thank you, and walked out.

The drive back home was a blur. Red lights, gray skies, the sound of the engine washed together into noise.

When he finally reached his apartment, he didn’t even turn on the lights. He dropped his keys somewhere near the door and sank to the floor, staring at the half-empty living room.

He couldn’t stop his mind from spinning. He went through every possibility— her coworkers, her friends. He even searched her name online, scrolled through old texts, reread every message she had ever sent him.

Then he opened Instagram.

He typed her friends’ usernames one by one, sending polite, desperate messages.

“Hey, it’s Jaehyun. Have you heard from her?”

“Please, if you know anything…”

Most didn’t reply. A few read his messages and left them unseen. The ones who answered only said the same thing:

“Sorry. She hasn’t contacted us in weeks.”

He sat there on the couch, staring at his phone screen, thumb hovering over her contact name. Every photo of them together was still in his gallery, still there like proof that none of this should have been possible.

He called her number again. Straight to voicemail.

He tried her email. No reply.

Then he opened her social media, one app after another.

Every account was gone. Deleted. No trace of her whereabouts, no old posts, no comments under his pictures. Even her tagged photos had disappeared as if she’d never existed online at all.

His chest tightened. He checked their shared iCloud account— the one they used for calendars and location sharing. The location bubble that used to show her somewhere in the city was gone. “Location not available,” the screen said.

He refreshed it again. And again. Nothing.

Her last seen marker showed the address of their apartment. After that, blank.

He tried one last thing— .

The blue bubbles that once filled their chat were still there, but her profile picture had vanished, replaced by the default gray icon. When he sent a new message, it didn’t even deliver.

It was like she had erased herself completely.

He went through her drawers, her bags, the trash, every corner of the apartment; searching for any trace, any clue, any tiny sign of where she could’ve gone. Receipts. Notes. Old letters. Anything.

But there was nothing. Just silence, clean and absolute.

He sank to the floor, pressing both hands to his face, his body shaking as the weight of it all finally hit him.

She was gone. Not missing. Not stolen.

Gone.

And no matter how many times he called, searched, begged, or prayed— there was nothing left to reach. The apartment, once filled with warm laughter and music, now echoed only with the sound of his breathing, uneven, empty.

Nobody heard from Jaehyun for almost a week.

At first, the members thought he just needed time. He’d been overworked, maybe jet-lagged— it wasn’t unusual for him to go quiet after long trips. But when his phone went straight to voicemail for days, when the unread messages kept stacking up without a single “seen” mark, concern turned to panic.

It was Johnny who finally couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his keys and drove straight to Jaehyun’s apartment.

When he arrived, the hallway outside was silent. He knocked once, then again. No answer. He tried calling and the muffled ringtone sounded from somewhere inside, but no footsteps followed.

Johnny’s heart started racing. He found the pass lock key that Jaehyun wrote him once when Johnny asked to borrow one of his camera when he was abroad, hoping that it still the same one, and luckily, it was.

The moment the door opened, a heavy smell hit him— stale air, spilled liquor, decay of uneaten food.

No lights. Curtains drawn tight. The air was thick and unmoving.

“Jaehyun?” Johnny’s voice cracked as he stepped inside.

The place was a mess. Empty bottles of vodka, whiskey, soju, whatever he could find lined the coffee table and the floor. Some had toppled over, sticky patches of dried liquor staining the carpet. Fast food containers lay scattered, half-eaten and cold.

And there, slumped against the couch, was Jaehyun.

At first, Johnny thought he was asleep— head tilted back, one arm limp at his side, the other clutching a crumpled piece of paper. But when he got closer, he froze.

His friend’s skin was pale, his lips dry, his breathing shallow. The letter in his hand was wrinkled, the ink smudged where it had been held too long.

“Jaehyun!” Johnny dropped to his knees beside him, grabbing his shoulders.

Jaehyun stirred faintly, his eyelids fluttering open. He blinked up at Johnny, eyes unfocused, voice barely audible. “Hyung… She’s gone.”

Johnny swallowed, trying to steady his own voice. “What do you mean she’s gone? What happened?”

But Jaehyun didn’t answer right away. His gaze was fixed on nothing, his pupils glassy. Johnny glanced around again, realizing how bad it was.

“Jesus, Jae,” he muttered under his breath. “How long have you been like this?”

He grabbed Jaehyun’s face gently, forcing him to look at him. “Hey. Talk to me. What happened?”

Jaehyun laughed— a sound so hollow and cracked that it barely resembled laughter. “I should’ve known it,” he said weakly, his voice trembling.

Johnny frowned, gripping his arm. “Known what?”

“That she’d go,” Jaehyun whispered. “She told me not to worry. Said she’d be fine.” His breathing hitched, a painful sound leaving his throat. “And I believed her.”

Johnny’s chest tightened. He had no idea what was happening, but the sight of his friend like this— the strongest one among them, now barely holding on, made his stomach twist.

“Alright,” he said, voice firm now. “Enough. You need to get up. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He tried to pull Jaehyun to his feet, but the man’s legs gave out almost immediately. Johnny caught him before he hit the floor.

“Jae, hey—” He patted his cheek gently. “Stay with me, alright? Look at me.” But Jaehyun’s eyes rolled back, his body going limp in Johnny’s arms.

Panic shot through him. Without wasting another second, Johnny grabbed his phone, called for help, then half-carried, half-dragged Jaehyun to the hallway while waiting for the elevator.

By the time the paramedics arrived, Jaehyun was unconscious again, his pulse faint but still there. The letter was still clutched in his hand— even as they lifted him onto the stretcher, Johnny had to pry it loose from his fingers.

At the hospital, the doctor panicked at how deathly his condition were. They were checking his condition, injecting shots after shots to stabilize his heart rate and get him to at least a calm state.

The white fluorescent lights buzzed quietly. Machines hummed somewhere nearby. Johnny sat in the chair beside the hospital bed, hands clasped tightly together, staring at the IV tube running into Jaehyun’s arm.

The doctor had said he was severely dehydrated, malnourished, and intoxicated— a combination that could’ve gone very wrong if they hadn’t found him when they did.

Jaehyun hadn’t woken up since they brought him in. His face looked pale against the white sheets, lips cracked, dark circles under his eyes.

Johnny exhaled shakily and rubbed his face with both hands. The letter lay folded on the table beside the bed, the paper still wrinkled. He hadn’t read it. He didn’t need to. He already knew what it said— or at least what it had done to Jaehyun.

He looked at his friend again, voice barely above a whisper. “What happened to you?” The heart monitor beeped steadily, each sound cutting through the silence.

The first few days after he woke up were the hardest.

He didn’t speak much— barely at all, really. The nurses would come in and check his vitals, ask if he wanted to eat, and he’d just nod or shake his head. Johnny stayed with him as much as he could, sleeping on the couch by the window, waking up every time Jaehyun stirred.

The other members came in turns. They brought flowers, coffee, small things to make the sterile room feel less like a cage. But nothing seemed to reach him.

He’d just sit there, staring at the window. Sometimes he’d hold the hospital wristband in his hand, turning it over and over, the paper wrinkling between his fingers. Sometimes he’d whisper her name under his breath, so softly that no one else could hear it.

News spreads fast when you’re famous— too fast and too loud.

Someone had seen the ambulance. Someone else had seen Johnny’s car parked outside the hospital that night. By the next morning, there were grainy photos online, and by noon, Jaehyun’s name was trending everywhere.

“NCT’s Jaehyun reportedly hospitalized due to intoxication.”

“Fans express concern after sudden schedule cancellations.”

“SM declines to comment on Jaehyun’s health condition.”

The headlines stacked one after another, each one louder than the last. Speculation turned into rumor; rumor turned into chaos.

Calls flooded his phone, messages from staff, sponsors, friends, people he hadn’t spoken to in months. He didn’t answer any of them. Johnny kept the phone on silent, turning it face down on the bedside table.

When he was discharged a week later, the doctors told Johnny to keep an eye on him to make sure he ate and he wasn’t alone for too long.

For a while, that’s exactly what they did.

They took turns staying over at his place, cooking for him, dragging him out for air. But Jaehyun barely participated. He moved through the days like a ghost—awake, breathing, but not really living.

Music didn’t help. He tried once, sitting in front of his piano with trembling fingers, but the sound felt wrong, hollow. Every chord brought her back. Every lyric reminded him of her laughter. So he stopped trying.

His absence from events didn’t go unnoticed. Every brand partnership, every scheduled appearance, every project he was supposed to lead— all suddenly on hold. Fans demanded answers. The company’s silence only made things louder.

The members and management tried to contain it. They released short statements — “Jaehyun is resting for health reasons.”

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Inside the dorm, the group decided on one thing together: protect him.

Doyoung changed all the passwords on their shared accounts so Jaehyun couldn’t accidentally scroll through the noise. Johnny blocked every YouTube channel, gossip site, and trending tag that mentioned his name. Mark deleted push notifications from news apps.

They took turns screening calls, telling managers he wasn’t available yet, that he needed more time.

When directors started pushing about canceled brand deals, Taeyong stepped in sharply.

“He’s not coming back until he’s ready,” he said. “If that’s a problem, take it up with me.”

The others followed his lead. No complaints. No resentment. Just quiet solidarity. Whenever they had interviews or individual schedules, fans would ask, “What happened to Jaehyun?”

And every time, they gave the same gentle answer. “He’s resting. Please wait for him.”

They didn’t owe anyone more than that.

And Jaehyun didn’t know the half of it.

He barely used his phone anymore. Johnny had hidden the social media apps entirely. The other members came by every few days, keeping things light— bringing food, chatting about music, telling stories like nothing was wrong.

He didn’t ask what was happening outside. He didn’t have to. He knew the noise was out there. For now, he stayed inside the quiet they built for him. A fragile little world where no one demanded anything, where the only sound was the hum of his air purifier and the low murmur of his friends telling him to eat.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that— drifting in and out of sleep, avoiding mirrors, forgetting what day it was.

And slowly, painfully, he started to realize: they weren’t just giving him space. They were giving him a reason to keep living.

The studio was quiet when Jaehyun finally spoke. His voice came out low and hoarse, almost hesitant.

“Hey.. I need to talk.” The other members looked up. The air shifted immediately— they could tell it wasn’t something trivial.

“What is it?” Taeyong asked carefully.

Jaehyun exhaled slowly, his hands trembling slightly where they rested on his knees.

“My girlfriend is pregnant.” Silence fell. No one moved.

“And… what?” Doyoung finally said, brows furrowed.

Jaehyun’s eyes dropped to the floor. “But she left me. With the baby.”

“What do you mean?” Johnny asked, his voice sharper than he intended.

“She-” Jaehyun’s throat tightened. “She said she didn’t want to ruin my career. I tried everything; called her, texted, searched her socials, but her accounts are gone. Everything’s gone. I even went to her office, but they said she resigned. I asked her friends, but they don’t know where she is either.”

No one spoke for a long moment. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioner. “Then she did it for you,” Jungwoo said softly. “She thought she was protecting you.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said bitterly. “But how am I supposed to live with that? How am I supposed to pretend I don’t have a child out there?”

Haechan frowned, shifting uncomfortably. “Couldn’t she have… I mean,, why didn’t she, you know-”

“She couldn’t,” Jaehyun cut in quickly. “She was scared. And even if she wanted to, I wouldn’t have allowed it.” He looked up, his voice breaking. “That’s too cruel for the baby.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

“I told her I’d take responsibility,” he continued quietly. “I told her I’d marry her, but she said it’d ruin everything. She kept saying she’d raise the baby alone. I didn’t believe her at first, but… she left. She even left me an NDA. It’s all so… planned.”

Yuta rubbed his face, letting out a slow exhale. “So, what are you thinking now?”

Jaehyun swallowed. “I want to quit.”

Every head snapped up. “What?”

“I want to quit,” he repeated, firmer this time. “I can’t just be here, pretending everything’s fine while my baby’s out there without a father and her without a husband. I need to find her.”

Johnny’s voice came out first. rough, disbelieving. “You’re fucking insane.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun whispered.

“I’m sorry but I won’t allow it,” Taeyong said flatly. His tone wasn’t cold, but it carried authority. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“She said she would raise them alone,” Doyoung added quietly. “You have to respect that.”

Jaehyun looked up, eyes wet and desperate. “How am I supposed to respect that? She’s alone raising my kid”

No one answered at first.

Finally, Johnny sighed and crouched in front of him, voice lower, steadier. “Jae, listen. When you leave for her, it only destroys what you’ve built, you know that, right?”

“She is the very reason I built everything I had” Jaehyun shot back, voice cracking.

Jaehyun’s shoulders trembled, his hands clenching into fists. “How can I live like this? How can I leave my baby without a father?”

No one in that room blamed him.

They understood, even though maybe not really. They saw the way his eyes dimmed, how he was barely holding himself together. But they also knew what losing him to guilt would mean, not just to the group, but to him.

So they stayed firm. Not to cage him, but to keep him from collapsing further.

Taeyong stood, exhaling softly. “We’ll handle the schedules. You focus on yourself for now. Don’t do anything drastic.”

Johnny placed a steady hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.”

Jaehyun nodded slowly, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. The room stayed silent after that— heavy, raw, but filled with an unspoken promise: they wouldn’t let him fall apart alone.

Weeks blurred into months. Schedules resumed. He went through them like clockwork, smiling for cameras, answering questions, doing interviews; his professionalism intact, his soul elsewhere.

It wasn’t until one evening, months later, that something cracked open again. The conversation about him quitting never really went away.

It lived like background noise— like something everyone pretended not to hear, but always felt humming in the silence between schedules.

At first, they thought it would fade. That time and routine would wear down the edge of his grief. But Jaehyun didn’t change his mind. He did his work, smiled when he needed to, sang with the same precision as always, but there was a distance in him now— a quiet finality in the way he looked at things.

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t lost anymore either.

He was just certain.

“I won’t be able to keep doing this much longer,” he said once, late at night after rehearsal. His voice was calm, almost gentle. “When the contract ends next year… I’ll stop.”

No one argued this time.

Taeyong rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “You’ve really thought about it, huh?”

Jaehyun nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it every day since she left.”

There wasn’t much left to say.

So they compromised. They agreed to finish the decade together — one last renewal, one final promise to their fans.

Eleven years.

They would do one last comeback, one more world tour, and let Jaehyun go on his own terms. It wasn’t resignation; it was respect.

The decision stayed private, something only the members and management knew. Outwardly, nothing changed. They kept releasing music, filming shows, smiling for the cameras. But underneath, everything felt like a countdown.

During the group’s final world tour, Jaehyun was the most diligent he’d ever been. He made sure every performance was perfect— every smile, every bow, every thank-you to the crowd. There was no exhaustion on his face, only the quiet urgency of someone who understood that this was his last time standing under those lights.

But it wasn’t just him who felt it. The fans did too.

They couldn’t explain how they knew — they just knew. Something had changed. Something unspoken was hanging in the air between songs, in the way the members clung to each other a little tighter during the encore, in the way Jaehyun’s eyes lingered on the crowd longer than usual before he waved goodbye.

The forums started filling with threads:

“Did anyone else notice how emotional Jaehyun looked tonight?”

“He smiled, but it felt different… softer. Like he was saying thank you.”

“He’s not the same since that break he took last year. You can see it in the way he sings.”

And then there were the gentler ones, messages from fans who didn’t pry, who simply understood. He saw them sometimes, late at night, scrolling through his mentions quietly when the dorm was asleep.

It made his chest ache that wasn’t pain, exactly, but something heavier. He’d spent years building this connection, standing on stages that made him feel alive, and now, as he read their words, he realized they understood him more than he ever thought they could.

He was grateful— deeply, painfully grateful.

Yes, there were still the loud ones. The fans who pried, who dug for rumors, who speculated about everything from secret relationships to health issues. But Jaehyun didn’t care anymore.

The noise didn’t matter. The ones who stayed, who saw the cracks in his smile and loved him anyway, they were the ones who kept him steady through every flight, every stage, every sleepless night.

So when he bowed after each concert, he meant it.

When he said, “Thank you,” it wasn’t scripted. It was real. And even though no one else knew it, he was already saying goodbye.

Jaehyun worked harder than anyone. If he was leaving, he wanted to leave something whole.

He recorded two solo albums in that period— quiet, intimate records that sounded more like confessions than performances. Songs about heartbreak, waiting, distance, and love that doesn’t fade.

But the last album sounded different from anything he’d done before— stripped down, honest, almost fragile. The kind of music that doesn’t chase charts but leaves an imprint. It wasn’t about his heartbreak, wasn’t about his yearn, but about his life, his love for music, and the greater, meaningful things in his life. 

He was meticulous, spending long hours in the studio, rewriting lyrics, rerecording lines until the sound matched the ache in his chest. He didn’t talk much about what the songs meant. He didn’t have to. The members knew. The producers knew. Everyone who listened knew.

Behind the scenes, he was preparing everything.

He met with financial advisors, lawyers, and managers; arranging investments, closing accounts, finalizing contracts. He quietly pulled his name out of endorsements, told his stylist to donate half of his wardrobe, and began organizing what he would leave behind.

Every night he came home, his apartment was a little emptier. Every morning, he felt a little lighter and a little lonelier.

It wasn’t that he stopped loving what he did. He still loved the music, the fans, the stage; but his heart was somewhere else now. Somewhere far away, where he hoped the person he lost was still waiting.

But he didn’t want to vanish suddenly. He wanted to say goodbye properly on his own stage, in his own way.

So he agreed to one last solo concert.

No special announcement, no grand theme. Just him.

He called it “11:11 Dinner Show.”

The posters were minimalist— a deep red portrait of his back, his name in simple lettering. Fans thought it was a creative choice, but to Jaehyun, it was symbolic. He didn’t want to market it as a farewell. He wanted it to feel like one— subtle, quiet, real.

The concert sold out in minutes.

On the night of the show, the air inside the arena was electric but warm, the kind of energy that came not from hype, but from love that had aged with time. His band was ready, the lights dimmed, and the audience erupted when he walked out.

He smiled, genuine and soft, a little overwhelmed by the sight of it all.

The setlist was a map of his life; songs from when he was still learning who he was, songs from when he almost lost himself, and songs that sounded like peace. Some tracks had the crowd dancing and shouting, others had them swaying quietly, holding up lightsticks like constellations that refused to fade.

By the time the encore came, the chant of his name filled every corner of the dome. The echo rolled like thunder, but there was gentleness in it too. The sound of people who didn’t just admire him, but knew him.

Jaehyun stood center stage, the golden lights soft around him. His breath came out slow and shaky, his chest rising and falling as the music faded behind him.

He raised the mic.

“I don’t really know where to start,” he said with a small laugh. “Usually, I plan what to say, but this time… I just wanted to speak honestly.”

The crowd quieted, listening.

“It’s been eleven years now,” he continued. “Eleven years of standing under these lights, sometimes I still can’t believe that all of this happened to me.”

He looked out at the crowd, eyes glimmering. He paused, swallowing hard.

“I think I’ve shined long enough to say I’ve done my best. Eleven years… that’s a long time to live inside a dream, right? And I’m grateful for every single second I got to spend here.”

The fans screamed his name, voices trembling.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth quivering slightly.

“When I was younger, I used to wonder what would happen if one day I couldn’t do this anymore. If one day the lights went out and the stage got quiet even when I stood there, ready to sing my heart out. It used to scare me. But now, I think… I’d be okay. Because even if I disappear from this stage, the songs will still be here. You can still play them, again and again and again...”

The big screen behind him showed flashes of old performances— his debut smile, his early concerts, his memories with the members. The fans gasped softly, sensing something in his tone.

“That’s why I always tried to give you my best version— every note, every lyric, every little detail. Because maybe I won’t be around forever, but my music will. And when you listen to it, I hope you remember how much I loved this...”

His voice cracked slightly, but he kept going.

“Music made me who I am. It taught me sincerity, discipline, love. If people remember me someday— not as an idol or a celebrity, but as someone who truly loved to sing, that would be enough for me.”

The crowd was silent now, tears streaming, some smiling even through it.

“I’m thankful,” he whispered. “For letting me live this dream. For believing in me when I couldn’t. They weren’t always easy. There were days I wanted to disappear, and nights I couldn’t sleep wondering if I was enough. But all of you made these eleven years the most beautiful part of my life.”

He looked up, blinking rapidly to clear the tears before they fell. “So please… whenever you miss me, just play the songs. That’s where I’ll be.”

The audience broke. Thousands of lightsticks waved in unison, glowing like a galaxy. Up in the VIP seats, the members were clapping, some openly crying. The fans caught glimpses of them, smiling faintly through their tears. They thought the members were moved by how Jaehyun had overcome his slump, by how radiant he looked again.

But the truth was quieter, deeper— the sorrow of watching their brother take his final bow.

And down on the stage, Jaehyun smiled one last time, the lights soft on his face, the microphone trembling in his hand.

“Thank you for loving me,” he said.

The roar of the crowd was deafening when the lights dimmed. The screens behind him faded to black, leaving only a faint, golden glow tracing the outline of his figure. The fans expected one more encore— maybe another upbeat song like Timeless, something to close on a high note.

But Jaehyun didn’t move right away.

He stood still, head bowed slightly, microphone resting against his chest. When the cheers softened into silence, he lifted his eyes toward the crowd. His expression was calm, but his throat was tight.

He took a slow breath, then spoke.

“This…” he started, his voice low but steady. “This is the last song i’ll sing for you.”

The crowd erupted— cheers, whistles, screams, thinking it was the usual concert banter, a routine way to close the night. But there was something different in his tone. He lingered on the words last song like they meant more than they should.

He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes. He exhaled slowly. The lights dimmed further, leaving only a single spotlight following him as the intro began. Soft piano, delicate melody of Try Again.

He began to sing.

His voice was low and rich but unsteady, trembling in places it never used to. He sang the first verse almost in a whisper, eyes down, as if each lyric weighed more than he could carry.

He took a step forward, walking down the narrow runway that extended into the crowd. Fans reached toward him, holding lightsticks and banners, tears already glistening in their eyes.

Jaehyun smiled at them softly as he sang, but his lips quivered. His eyes glistened beneath the lights. When the chorus hit, his voice cracked not from strain, but from emotion he couldn’t swallow back anymore.

He stopped singing for a moment, letting the fans carry the line. The sound of thousands of voices filled the dome, wrapping around him. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and just listened.

Tears slid down his cheeks, slow and quiet at first. He wiped one away with the back of his hand, laughing softly at himself. The mic caught the sound— a small, broken laugh that made the crowd cry harder.

“Ah… sorry,” he whispered between verses, voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to cry.”

The next verse came, and he kept walking— down the aisle, across the smaller side stage, toward the corner where the members sat watching.

In the VIP section, the members were crying too. Johnny had his hand pressed to his mouth. Taeyong’s head was bowed, shoulders shaking. Doyoung mouthed the lyrics along quietly, his eyes never leaving Jaehyun.

The tears came harder then. His shoulders shook as he sang, but he didn’t stop. He turned slowly, facing the sea of light, thousands of fans singing with him, waving their hands gently as if trying to hold him there for a little longer.

He reached the bridge and crouched slightly, both hands gripping the mic, his voice raw now— imperfect but so heartbreakingly real.

He stood there, breathing hard, his entire body trembling from the weight of it all. The tears kept falling, but this time he didn’t hide them. He let them fall freely, one by one, glistening under the soft golden light.

The fans screamed his name. Some cried. Some just stood there, motionless, too overwhelmed to speak. He smiled through the tears, placed his hand over his heart, and whispered into the mic— his voice small but steady, “Thank you”

And as the lights dimmed and the sound faded, Jaehyun stood alone on that stage — tears still on his cheeks, microphone in hand, glowing softly under the last light of his career. To chase the life he sought.

It wasn’t just the end of a concert.

It was the end of his career.

Exactly one week after the concert, the announcement came. It dropped early in the morning, sudden and quiet; the kind of statement that didn’t need teasing or explanation.

SM Entertainment Official Statement:

“After long and thoughtful discussions, Jaehyun has decided to end his activities as a member of NCT and as a solo artist under SM Entertainment. We respect his decision to take a step away from the spotlight and live a more private life. We sincerely thank all fans for supporting Jaehyun throughout his journey, and we ask for your continued love and warm encouragement for his future.”

That was all it said.

No scandals. No excuses.

Just a clean, dignified ending.

The statement spread like wildfire. Within hours, #ThankYouJaehyun was trending worldwide. Fans posted concert clips, old photos, handwritten fan letters. Messages poured in from everywhere — Thank you for the memories. Thank you for growing with us. We’ll wait for you.

And then, later that night, his letter appeared.

To everyone who has been part of my journey, For the past eleven years, I have lived the most extraordinary life. I’ve been loved beyond measure, supported in ways I could never repay, and given the chance to do what I love every single day. There were bright days, and there were heavy ones too. But every moment; every stage, every song, every shared smile was a gift I will carry with me for the rest of my life. I believe I’ve done everything I could as Jaehyun of NCT. And now, I want to take a step back to live quietly, to breathe, to rediscover myself not as a public figure, but simply as Jeong Yuno. I hope you’ll remember me not for the noise or the lights, but for the sincerity in my music and the heart behind my voice. Please don’t worry about me. I’m happy. I’m at peace. And I’ll always be grateful. Thank you for letting me live this dream— and thank you for letting me end it with love. With all my heart, - Yuno

The letter broke the internet for days. It wasn’t long or dramatic. It was very him, soft-spoken, polite, full of gratitude and calm finality.

Fans cried, but there was comfort in his words. It didn’t feel like loss and closure. The members reposted the letter with their own quiet messages:

“Proud of you, bro.” “Once a member, always family.” “Wherever you go, we’ve got you.”

After the official farewell, Jaehyun vanished again, this time for good.

He hasn’t sold his apartment in Seoul yet, but he barely live in it, he withdrew from his public accounts, and left the country quietly to search for his love, only comes back when he needs longer rest. There was no media trail, no appearance at the airport, no new updates.

During fan events, when asked about him, the members smiled and reassured everyone.

“He’s doing well.”

“We still meet up whenever we can.”

“He’s okay. Let’s just wish him the best.”

They never hid him. They spoke of him warmly— as if he was still there, just living a different kind of life and when they said that, the fans only smiled and relieved that he wasn’t lost to darkness, that he was still living, even if they didn’t know what for. His friends— the members, especially Johnny knew what he was doing. They didn’t try to stop him.

He wasn’t chasing fame anymore. He wasn’t chasing music. He was chasing her.

The woman who had once carried his heart, and somewhere out there, the child who carried his eyes.

He never stayed long anywhere. A week here, a few days there. Sometimes a month if something in the air. A view, a song, a scent that made him feel closer to her.

He carried a small worn out notebook filled with scribbled notes, addresses, and dates. Leads from people he trusted, tiny hints of where she might’ve gone.

Sometimes, when he saw a woman with long dark hair pushing a stroller, he froze— his heart leaping before reason caught up. Sometimes, he’d walk into cafés she might’ve liked, just to feel close to her.

He didn’t know where to start, so he went everywhere. Tokyo. Prague. Vancouver. New York. Jakarta. 

Everywhere that looked like a place she could’ve chosen to disappear into.

Fans began to notice.

Every few weeks, someone would spot him— blurry photos surfacing online. He was always alone, dressed simply, no entourage, no schedule, no noise. Just a man moving through cities like a ghost, eyes distant, searching for something no one else could see.

The fans notices a worn Prada backpack, the same one fans had seen him carry through airports back in his idol days. It was old but he couldn’t let it go. It had been with him through everything. The tours, the late-night flights, the years of noise and light.

And now it followed him through quiet train stations, small cafés, and unfamiliar cities.

A grainy photo in Florence; Jaehyun sitting by the Arno River, sketchbook open on his lap. Another in Tokyo; walking through Shinjuku at night, his hood up, but unmistakable. Then one from Prague; standing near the Charles Bridge, watching street performers under the fading sun.

They started collecting them.

A small corner of the internet turned into what fans affectionately called “The Jaehyun Atlas.”

A map covered with pins, each one a photo, a sighting, a tiny sliver of his life after fame.

“Found Jaehyun in Italy!”

“Nope, he’s in Connecticut now!”

“Bro’s out here collecting countries like postcards.”

It became a running joke — Jaehyun: Dora the Explorer Edition.

Fans edited memes of him in a little explorer hat, carrying his iconic Prada backpack and a compass, wandering across the globe.

And Jaehyun wasn’t angry about it. In fact, when fans recognized him, usually one or two at a time— he’d smile and greet them back softly.

“Hi,” he’d say in his quiet, polite tone. “You found me.”

Sometimes he’d let them take a photo, sometimes just exchange a few words before walking away. He never seemed bothered, never cold. Just… gentle.

The fans, out of respect, rarely pushed.

They’d post their blurry photos later with captions like, “He looks healthy.”

“He smiled. That’s enough.”

It became a kind of comfort— seeing him alive, moving, living freely after all those years under the spotlight.

They joked about him, yes— about him being a real-life Pokémon, spawning randomly across countries, about his “Prada backpack era” that never ended. But underneath the humor was affection. They missed him. They loved him. And they respected the peace he had chosen.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun lived quietly in between those sightings. He’d book small guesthouses under fake names, write down addresses, check local registries, searching for anything that might lead to her. Hospitals, clinics, embassies, schools… any place that might have a trace of her name or a child’s birth record.

Sometimes he’d follow a lead for weeks, only for it to go nowhere. Sometimes he’d find nothing but silence. And yet, he never gave up.

Each city he left behind became another note in the song he was chasing— the unfinished melody of her voice, the echo of a life that once belonged to both of them.

He wasn’t searching for closure. He was searching for them. And even if the world saw him as the quiet, wandering ex-idol who disappeared to find peace— he knew better.

He wasn’t at peace. Not yet.

credit: divider by @uzmacchiato & @saradika-graphics

you never really thought about the way jaehyun looked at you sometimes, so soft and so wondering, like he was trying to memorize your face. you never thought about how careful jaehyun was with you, how he always made sure you cum first, how he held you after even though you'd never asked him to. you never thought about the fact that jaehyun had stopped hooking up with anyone else entirely, even though you'd never discussed exclusivity.

you didn't really think about any of it, because thinking about it would mean acknowledging that something had shifted, and you weren't ready for that yet; you liked what you had, and you didn't want to lose it.

jaehyun felt the same way.

at least, that's what he told himself every single day.

because the truth was, jaehyun had been in love with you for months, maybe longer, maybe since that first day in psych when you'd handed him a pen and smiled at him like you'd known him forever. he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it had happened, only that somewhere along the way, you'd stopped being just his friend and started being everything.

the friends with benefits thing had seemed like a good idea at the time; a way to be close to you, to touch you, to have you in a way that felt intimate without having to say the words he was terrified to speak. he'd thought it would satisfy something in him, this arrangement.

oh, he'd been so wrong.

it only made it worse — every single time jaehyun had you underneath him, every single time you moaned his name, every single time you looked at him with that hazy pleasure in your eyes, jaehyun fell a little deeper. and he couldn't say anything, because saying anything would ruin it. you'd made it clear from the start that this was casual. you'd said the words yourself, that night after the first time;

"i'm not looking for a relationship, jaehyun. i just want this. just us, like this."

so he'd nodded and said okay, and he'd locked his feelings away in a box and pretended they didn't exist.

but the box was getting full, and tonight, it was about to burst.

it was a friday night in late october, the kind of night where the air was crisp and the leaves were falling and everything felt a little bit electric.

you'd texted jaehyun around nine, a simple "you busy?" followed by the eggplant emoji simply because you were mature like that. jaehyun’s response came less than a minute later; "never for you. come over."

so here you were, standing outside his dorm room in a hoodie and sweatpants, your heart beating a little faster than it should. you knocked twice, the way you always did, and the door opened almost immediately.

jaehyun stood in the doorway, and god, he was so pretty it actually hurt; he was wearing gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a simple white t-shirt that stretched across his chest in a way that made your mouth water. his hair was dark and slightly damp, like he'd just showered, and his skin had that warm glow it always got after a shower.

his eyes found yours immediately, soft and familiar, and he smiled that small smile that made his dimples appear.

"hey," jaehyun said, stepping aside to let you in.

"hey," you said back, and you tried to ignore the way your stomach flipped when his hand brushed your lower back as you walked past him.

his dorm room was small and messy in the way all college dorms were messy; clothes draped over the desk chair, textbooks stacked on the floor, a half-empty cup of coffee on the nightstand. but it smelled like jaehyun — clean laundry and something woodsy, like strawberry or vanilla — and it felt safe in a way you couldn't explain.

jaehyun closed the door behind you and leaned against it, watching you with that quiet intensity he had.

he didn't say anything, just looked at you like he was trying to figure out what you were thinking. he always did that. it used to make you uncomfortable, but now you found it endearing.

"horrible week," you said by way of explanation, kicking off your shoes.

jaehyun nodded like he understood. he always understood.

"want to talk about it?"

you shook your head. "want to not think about it."

another nod, and then jaehyun pushed off the door and crossed the room toward you, and his hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. his touch was gentle, always gentle, like you were something so precious.

"okay," he said softly. "i can help with that."

and then jaehyun kissed you.

it started slow, the way it always did with jaehyun; his lips were so warm and so soft, moving against yours with a patience that drove you crazy. he never rushed, never pushed, he just kissed you like he had all the time in the world, like there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

you let your hands find his waist, your fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, and you pulled him closer. jaehyun made a small sound against your mouth, something between a sigh and a hum, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark and his lips were pink and he was looking at you like you'd hung the moon.

"bed," he said, and it wasn't a question.

you nodded, and jaehyun softly took your hand and led you across the room.

the dorm bed was pretty small, a standard twin xl that barely fit both of you, but you'd eventually made it work before and you'd make it work again.

jaehyun sat down first, pulling you into his lap so you were straddling his thighs. his hands settled on your hips, thumbs tracing small circles through the fabric of your sweatpants.

"you're so pretty," jaehyun murmured, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw, your neck, the spot behind your ear that made you shiver. "you know that? you're so fucking pretty."

you laughed, breathless, and tangled your fingers in jaehyun’s damp dark hair.

"you're biased."

"i'm not." jaehyun’s teeth grazed your collarbone, gentle but teasing. "i have eyes. i can see."

he kissed down your throat, his lips dragging over your skin in a way that made your toes curl. his hands slid under the hem of your hoodie, palms flat against your stomach, and his fingers were warm and calloused and perfect.

"off," he said against your chest, tugging at the fabric.

you rapidly pulled your hoodie over your head and tossed it somewhere on the floor, and then jaehyun was looking at you — deeply observing — and his breath caught in a way that made your chest feel tight.

"god," he whispered, almost to himself. "look at you."

jaehyun’s soft hands slowly traced up your sides, over your ribs, his thumbs brushing across your nipples in a way that made you gasp. he watched your face as he did it, cataloging every single reaction, and there was something so hungry in his eyes that made your skin heat.

"hyunie," you breathed, and his name in your pretty mouth made him shiver.

"i know," jaehyun said. "i've got you."

he flipped you over, a move that was easy for him because he was strong and you were pliant and willing; your back hit the mattress, and he was above you, caging you in with his arms, his body a warm weight that pressed you into the sheets.

jaehyun kissed you again, deeper this time, his warm tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that had you arching your back up into him. his hips rolled down against yours, and you could feel him — hard and thick through his sweatpants — and the friction made you moan into his mouth.

"fuck," jaehyun muttered, pulling back just enough to look at you. "want to take my time with you tonight. is that okay?"

you simply nodded, because your voice had apparently stopped working.

jaehyun smiled, that soft, pretty, dimpled smile that made your heart do such stupid things, and then he started kissing his way down your body.

he started at your jaw, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. jaehyun lingered at your pulse point, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, and his teeth scraped gently over the spot before he sucked a mark there. it was not hard enough to bruise, just enough to feel, just enough to make you gasp.

"hyunie," you said, and your voice came out rough, broken.

"shh," he murmured against your collarbone. "let me."

jaehyun kissed across your chest, your sternum, your ribs. his lips found one of your nipples and he sucked it into his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, and your hands flew to his hair, holding him there.

he chuckled, the vibration shooting straight to your dick, and he gave the other side the same attention, biting down just enough to make you whine.

"awh, so responsive," jaehyun said, pulling back to admire his work. your chest was completely flushed, your nipples wet and peaked, and the look in his eyes was pure reverence. "you always react so well for me."

you wanted to say something clever, something casual, but all that came out was a breathless;

"please."

"please what?" he asked, and he was already moving lower, dragging his lips down your stomach, his tongue dipping into your belly button in a way that made you squirm.

"please touch me," you said. "i need—"

"i know what you need," jaehyun said, and his fingers hooked into the waistband of your sweatpants. "lift up."

you did, and he pulled your pants and boxers down in one smooth movement, tossing them aside. the cool air hit your skin and you shivered, your dick twitching against your stomach, already leaking precum onto your skin.

jaehyun made a sound, low and appreciative, and his hand wrapped around the base of your cock. his fingers didn't quite touch — he was big, but you were also bigger than average — and the sight of his hand around you made your head spin.

"so pretty," jaehyun said again, and he meant your dick, which was a weird thing to say but it made you blush anyway. "all of you. every part."

he leaned down and licked a stripe up the underside of your cock, from base to tip, and your hips jerked off the bed. his free hand pressed you back down, holding you in place, and he did it again, slower this time, his tongue flat and warm.

"jaehyun, please—"

"i said i want to take my time," he reminded you, and his breath was hot against your skin. "be patient."

he took the head of your cock into his mouth, just the head, and sucked gently. the sensation was electric, shooting up your spine and making your toes curl. his tongue swirled around the tip, cleaning up the precum, and he moaned like you were the best thing he'd ever tasted.

then jaehyun sank down.

your brain short-circuited; jaehyun's mouth was so hot and so wet and so perfect, and he knew exactly what he was doing. he took you deeper than you thought possible, his throat contracting around the head of your cock, and he looked up at you through his lashes with those big brown eyes and you almost came right there.

"oh f-fuck," you gasped, fisting the sheets. "fuckfuckfuck, hyunie, your mouth—"

he pulled off with a wet pop, lips swollen and shiny, and smiled up at you. "you like that?"

"you know i do."

jaehyun laughed, soft and fond, and then his mouth was on you again, bobbing up and down in a rhythm that made your vision blur. his hand worked what his mouth couldn't reach, twisting and pumping in time with his sucks, and he was moaning around you like he was the one getting pleasured.

it was too much. it was exactly enough.

"hyunie, i'm gonna—" you warned, but he didn't pull off.

jaehyun just took you deeper, his nose pressing against your pelvis, and swallowed around you.

you cum with a cry, your back arching off the bed, your hands flying to jaehyun’s hair to hold him in place. he took it all, swallowing every single drop, and he didn't stop until you were trembling and oversensitive, pushing at his shoulders.

jaehyun pulled off you slowly, licking his lips in such a hot way, and crawled back up your body. he kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, salty and bitter, and it should have been gross but it wasn't; it was jaehyun, and everything about him made you feel good.

"told you i wanted to take my time," jaehyun murmured against your lips. "we're not done yet."

you blinked up at him, still hazy from your orgasm.

"what?"

he smiled, that stupidly pretty smile, and rolled off the bed.

you watched as jaehyun dug through his nightstand drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. he tossed them onto the bed and then stripped off his shirt, and you forgot how to breathe for a second.

jaehyun was so beautiful. you'd known that since the day you met him, but seeing him like this — chest bare, skin golden in the lamplight, muscles moving under his skin — it never got old. jaehyun’s shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and there was a seductive light trail of hair leading from his navel down into his sweatpants.

he caught you staring and raised an eyebrow.

"what?"

"nothing," you said quickly. "you're just hot."

jaehyun’s cheeks flushed pink, which was ridiculous because he knew damn well he was hot. but jaehyun still ducked his head like he was shy, and the gesture made something warm bloom in your chest.

"shut up," he said, but he was smiling.

he stepped out of his sweatpants and boxers, and your mouth went dry. jaehyun's dick was big — long and thick, curving slightly upward, with a vein running along the side that you liked to trace with your tongue. it was already hard, flushed red at the tip, and it looked almost too big to fit inside you.

but it always fit, eventually.

jaehyun climbed back onto the bed, settling between your legs, and his hands naturally pushed your thighs apart. he looked at you — like he was memorizing every single inch of you for the first time — and his expression softened into something so tender it made your chest ache.

"you're sure?" jaehyun asked, because he always asked. "we don't have to—"

"jaehyun." you reached for him, pulling him down so his chest was pressed against yours. "i want this. i want you. okay?"

he nodded, his breath warm against your cheek.

"okay."

he kissed you again, softly and slowly, and you let yourself sink into it. jaehyun’s hands slid down your sides, over your hips, and one of them reached for the lube; you heard the click of the bottle opening, and then his long fingers were slick and cold against your inner thigh.

"warm it up first," you mumbled against jaehyun’s lips, and he softly laughed.

"bossy."

but he rubbed the lube between his fingers, warming it, and then his hand slipped between your legs.

jaehyun’s index finger circled your hole, teasing, not pushing in yet, but just getting you used to the sensation, the pressure. you breathed out slowly, relaxing into the mattress, and he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

"good?" he asked.

"good."

he pushed in.

just one finger, slow and careful, and you clenched around him instinctively. jaehyun waited patiently, not moving, letting you adjust, and his free hand was on your hip, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

"breathe," he reminded you. "you're okay. i've got you."

you breathed. the tension in your body released, and he pushed deeper, his finger sliding all the way in. he crooked it, searching, and when he found your prostate you saw stars.

"there," you gasped. "right there."

jaehyun smiled and did it again, rubbing small circles against that sweet little spot, and your back arched off the bed again. he added a second finger, stretching you open, and the burn was good — so freaking good — and you couldn't stop the sounds falling from your lips.

"hyunie, please, i'm ready, i need—"

"mmh, not yet," jaehyun said, and his voice was strained, like he was holding himself back. "i want to make sure you're stretched enough."

he added a third finger, and you cried out, your hands gripping jaehyun’s shoulders. the stretch was intense, almost too much, but he worked you open with patience and precision, his fingers curling and scissoring and pressing against your prostate every few strokes.

"so tight," he muttered, almost to himself. "so good for me. taking my fingers so well."

"hyunie," you whined, and you were past the point of shame now. "please fuck me. i need your cock. please."

something in his expression shifted, darkened. jaehyun’s eyes went hooded, his jaw tightened, and he pulled his fingers out slowly, making you whimper at the loss.

"since you asked so nicely," jaehyun said, and he reached for the condom.

but you stopped him, your hand closing around his wrist. he looked at you, confused.

"no condom," you said. "i want to feel you."

jaehyun’s eyes widened.

"are you sure? we've never—"

"i'm sure." you pulled him down, wrapping your legs around his waist. "i trust you, hyunie. i want all of you."

he stared at you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his face, then he nodded, slow and serious, and set the condom aside.

"okay," jaehyun said softly. "okay."

he slicked himself up with lube, his hand pumping his cock a few times, and then he positioned himself at your entrance. the head of his dick pressed against your hole, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

"tell me if it's too much," jaehyun said, and his voice was rough. "tap my shoulder and i'll stop."

"i know. i trust you."

he pushed in.

just the tip at first, and even that was a lot.

jaehyun was big, and no matter how many times you did this, the first stretch was always intense. you gritted your teeth, focusing on breathing, on relaxing, on letting him in.

"you're doing so good," he murmured, his forehead pressed against yours. "so good for me. just a little more."

he pushed deeper, inch by inch, and your body opened up for him. the burn was there, sharp and sweet, but underneath it was pleasure, deep and overwhelming, and when he bottomed out you both let out a moan.

"f-fuck," jaehyun breathed, his eyes squeezed shut. "fuck, you feel—you're so—"

jaehyun couldn't finish the sentence, and you didn't need him to. you felt it too — the way he filled you completely, the way your bodies fit together like they were made for this, the way his heartbeat pounded against your chest.

"move," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "please move."

he pulled out slowly, almost all the way, and then pushed back in. the drag of his cock against your walls was exquisite, and you cried out, your nails digging into his back.

jaehyun found a rhythm, slow and deep, and every thrust hit your prostate dead on; you were already sensitive from your first orgasm, and the pleasure was building fast, too fast, threatening to swallow you whole.

"hyunie," you gasped, your legs tightening even more around his waist. "h-hyunie, right there, don't stop—"

"i won't," he said, and his voice was wrecked. "i won't stop. i'll give you everything. anything you want."

jaehyun’s pace increased, his hips snapping against yours, and the sound of skin on skin filled the room. he was sweating now, his hair sticking to his forehead, and he was beautiful — he was so beautiful — and you couldn't look away from him.

he changed the angle slightly, and suddenly the pleasure was blinding. your second orgasm hit you without warning, your cock spurting cum onto your stomach, and you screamed his name as your body convulsed around him.

"oh god," jaehyun groaned, and his rhythm stuttered. "you're—you just cum—"

"keep going," you said, even though you were oversensitive, even though every nerve was on fire. "don't stop, hyunie, i want you to cum inside me."

his eyes went dark, and he started moving again, faster now, chasing his own release. his thrusts were rougher, less controlled, and the overstimulation was a knife edge between pleasure and pain that made you see the stars.

"so good," he was mumbling, his voice broken and frantic. "so good, so good, you're so—i can't—"

jaehyun’s hips stuttered, and you knew he was close. you clenched around him intentionally, and he let out a sound that was almost a sob.

"fuck—i love you."

the words fell out of jaehyun like they'd been waiting for years to escape, and his eyes went wide the second he said them, and his hips stopped moving entirely.

the room went silent.

you stared at him, your chest heaving, your mind struggling to process what you'd just heard. jaehyun stared back, panic rising in his eyes, his face pale beneath the flush of arousal.

"i—" jaehyun started, and then stopped.

his jaw worked silently, like he was trying to find the words to take it back, to explain it away, but there was no taking it back now; the words hung in the air between you, heavy and real, and everything shifted.

jaehyun pulled out slowly, carefully, and the loss of him made you feel hollow in more ways than one. he sat back on his heels, still hard, still glistening with lube and your own release, and he wouldn't look at you.

"jaehyun," you said, and your voice came out raw.

"don't," he said, and his voice cracked. "please don't. i didn't mean—i mean, i did mean it, but i wasn't supposed to say it. i know we said no feelings, i know this was supposed to be casual, i know you don't—" jaehyun pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, and his shoulders shook. "fuck. i ruined it. i ruined everything."

you sat up slowly, your body aching and oversensitive, and you reached for him. your hand found jaehyun’s wrist, tugging his hands away from his face, and when he finally looked at you, his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"hyunie," you said softly. "how long?"

he blinked. "what?"

"how long have you felt this way?"

jaehyun was quiet for a long moment, and then, so quietly you almost didn't hear him;

"months. maybe longer. i don't know. it just—it happened. and i tried to ignore it, i really did, but every time we—" he gestured vaguely at the bed, at your bodies, at everything. "it just made it worse. being with you, touching you, having you like this and knowing i couldn't have you the way i really wanted—"

his voice broke, and he looked away again.

"i'm sorry," jaehyun whispered, and his voice was trembling. "i know this isn't what you signed up for. i know you don't feel the same way. and i swear, i never meant to make things weird. i just—i couldn't help it. i love you. and i hate that i love you because it hurts, but i can't stop."

your chest felt like it was caving in.

because here was the thing; you'd told yourself this was casual, you'd told yourself you didn't have feelings, that you just wanted sex, that jaehyun was a friend and nothing more. but somewhere along the way, maybe the same way it had happened for him, the lines had blurred.

you loved the way he smiled at you, soft and private, like you were the only person in the world. you loved the way he said your name, the way it sounded in his deep voice. you loved the way he held you after sex, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, even though you'd never asked him to. you loved the way he remembered things — your coffee order, the name of your childhood pet, the fact that you were scared of thunder.

you loved him. you'd been loving him for a while, probably, and you'd been too scared to admit it.

"jaehyun," you said again, and this time your voice was steady.

he flinched, bracing himself.

you cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. his cheeks were wet now, tears spilling over despite his best efforts, and you wiped them away with your thumbs.

"i'm not mad," you said.

jaehyun froze. "what?"

"i'm not mad. i'm not weirded out. i'm not going anywhere."

his brow furrowed, confusion replacing the panic.

"but you said—we said—"

"i know what we said." you stroked his cheekbones, his jaw, the corners of his mouth. "and i meant it at the time. but things change, hyunie. people change. feelings change."

jaehyun’s breath caught. "are you saying—"

"i'm saying i love you too." the words felt terrifying and freeing all at once. "i don't know exactly when it happened, or how, but it did. and i was too scared to say anything because i didn't want to lose you either."

he stared at you, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"you're not just saying that?"

"i'm not just saying that."

"you really—"

"yes, jaehyun. i really love you."

a sound escaped him, something between a laugh and a sob, and then he was kissing you.

it was desperate and messy and perfect, his arms wrapping around you so tightly you could barely breathe. you kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring everything you hadn't said into the press of your lips, the slide of your tongue.

when you finally broke apart, both of you were crying a little, and it was ridiculous and sappy and you didn't care.

"i love you," jaehyun said again, like he was testing the words out loud, letting them be real.

"i love you too," you said back, and it felt like coming home.

jaehyun laughed, wet and shaky, and pressed his forehead against yours. "so what now?"

you thought about it; you thought about the mess of cum on your stomach, the lube on the sheets, the fact that jaehyun was still hard and pressing against your thigh. you thought about the way your heart was pounding, the way his hands were trembling on your hips.

"now," you said slowly with a smile, "i think you should finish what you started."

jaehyun’s eyebrows shot up.

"you want to—after everything—"

"jaehyun." you kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck. "i just told you i love you. and you're still hard. and i'm still kind of stretched open from before. and i really, really want to feel you cum inside me."

he groaned, his hips jerking against yours involuntarily.

"you're going to kill me."

"is that a yes?"

jaehyun kissed you hard, his tongue sliding against yours, and then he was pushing you back down onto the mattress.

this time was different; you could feel it in the way he touched you, slower and more deliberate, like he was savoring every second. jaehyun kissed down your body again, but this time he lingered, pressing his lips to your chest, your stomach, the inside of your thighs. he kissed the marks he'd left earlier, soothing them with his warm tongue, and a new one appeared below your navel — a gentle bite that made you gasp.

"i love you," he murmured against your skin, and the words sent shivers down your spine. "i love your shoulders. i love your collarbones. i love the way you smell, like soap and something sweet. i love the sounds you make when i touch you."

"hyunie," you breathed, and your voice was thick with emotion.

he looked up at you, his eyes soft and glowing, and smiled.

"let me worship you, baby. please. let me show you how much i love you."

you nodded, because, well… you couldn't speak, and jaehyun went back to work.

he took his time with your cock, licking and sucking and kissing until you were writhing and begging. he didn't let you cum, though — he pulled back every time you got close, leaving you teetering on the edge.

"not yet," jaehyun said, and his voice was rough. "want you to cum when i'm inside you."

he flipped you over, onto your stomach, and you heard him slick himself up again. his hands spread your cheeks apart, and you felt his breath hot against your hole, and before you could process what was happening, his tongue was inside you.

"oh f-fuck," you loudly gasped, your face pressing into the pillow. "jaehyun—"

he hummed against you, the vibration making your toes curl, and his tongue worked you open, licking and sucking and teasing. his nose pressed against your skin, and he moaned like he was the one being pleasured.

"taste so good," he mumbled, and the words were muffled but you heard them anyway. "could do this forever."

he rimmed you until you were a trembling mess, your legs shaking, your hands fisting the sheets, then he pulled back, and you heard him spit — gross, but so hot — and then the head of his cock was pressing against your hole again.

"ready?" jaehyun asked.

"yes, god, yes, please—"

jaehyun pushed in, and this time there was no burn, and no resistance. your body welcomed him warmly, opened up for him, and jaehyun slid in all the way in one smooth movement that made you both cry out.

"fuck," jaehyun groaned, his hands gripping your hips. "you feel—i can't—"

"move," you begged. "please move, i need you to move."

and he did.

slow at first, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, and the drag of his huge cock against your walls was exquisite. jaehyun was hitting your prostate with every single thrust, and the pleasure was building, a slow burn that threatened to consume you entirely.

"harder," you said, pushing back against him. "please, harder."

jaehyun obliged, his pace increasing, his hips slapping against your ass. the sound was obscene, wet and loud, and you didn't care. you wanted more. you wanted everything.

"jaehyun," you moaned, and his name was a prayer on your lips. "right there, don't stop, i'm gonna—"

he reached around and wrapped his hand around your cock, pumping in time with his thrusts, and the double stimulation was too much. you cum with a scream, your body convulsing around him, and he swore loudly.

"so tight," jaehyun gasped, and his hips stuttered. "you're squeezing me so tight, i can't—"

"inside," you managed, your voice wrecked. "cum inside me. please, hyunie, i want to feel it."

jaehyun thrust into you three more times, deep and desperate, and then he was coming. you felt it — the pulse of jaehyun’s cock, the heat of his release filling you up — and he groaned your name like a benediction, collapsing onto your back.

you lay there for a long moment, both of you panting, sweaty, tangled together. his weight was heavy on top of you, but you didn't mind. you liked it. you liked the way he pressed you into the mattress, the way his breath was hot against your neck, the way his heart pounded against your spine.

"i love you," jaehyun whispered into your skin, and you felt the words more than you heard them.

"i love you too," you whispered back.

he pulled out slowly, and you both winced at the loss.

jaehyun rolled off you, onto his back, and he stared at the white ceiling. you turned your head to look at him, and he was smiling — a real smile, so wide and so bright and so full of joy it made your chest ache.

"that was—" he started.

"yeah," you agreed. "it was."

jaehyun laughed, soft and breathless, and turned onto his side to face you. his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, and his eyes traced your face like he was seeing it for the first time.

"i can't believe you love me back," he said quietly. "i thought—i was so sure you didn't. i was so scared of losing you."

"you're not going to lose me," you said, covering his hand with yours. "i'm not going anywhere."

his eyes glistened again, but this time the tears were happy. he leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow and full of promise.

a little moment after that, jaehyun disappeared into his dorm’s bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth. he cleaned you up carefully, wiping the cum from your stomach and the lube from between your legs. his touch was so gentle, almost reverent, and jaehyun pressed kisses to your hip, your thigh, your knee as he worked.

"you did so good," jaehyun murmured softly. "you always do so good for me."

you were too tired to respond, floating in a haze of endorphins and contentment. he tossed the washcloth aside and pulled you into his arms, arranging you so your head was on his chest and his arms were wrapped around you.

"stay," jaehyun said, and it wasn't really a question. "please. stay the night."

"wasn't planning on leaving," you mumbled against his skin.

he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest, and his fingers started tracing patterns on your back. you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, the steady beat of jaehyun’s heart.

"hey," he said after a while, his voice soft.

"hmm?"

"i meant it. everything i said."

you opened your eyes and tilted your head back to look at him. jaehyun’s face was fully open, vulnerable, all his walls down for the very first time.

"i know," you said. "me too."

he smiled, that small, dimpled smile that had made you fall for him in the first place, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"go to sleep," he said. "we can talk more in the morning."

"promise?"

"promise."

you closed your eyes again, and the last thing you felt before sleep took you was jaehyun's lips on your hair, soft and warm, and the quiet whisper of his voice in the dark.

"i love you. i love you. i love you."

you woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming through the blinds and jaehyun's arm draped across your waist.

for a small moment, you didn't remember.

you simply felt warm and comfortable and so safe, and you didn't want to move at all. but then the events of last night came flooding back — the sex, the confession, the crying, the sex again — and your eyes snapped open.

jaehyun was watching you.

his head was propped on his hand, elbow sunk into the pillow, and he was looking at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. there was hope there, and fear, and something soft and tender that made your heart skip.

"good morning," jaehyun said quietly.

"morning," you said back, your voice rough with sleep.

he was quiet for a moment, his thumb stroking back and forth across your hip. then he said, carefully;

"do you remember what you said last night?"

you did. of course you did. you remembered every single word, every single look, every single touch.

"i love you," you said, and the words came easier this time. "i love you, jaehyun. i meant it."

his whole body relaxed, like he'd been holding his breath and had finally been allowed to exhale. a smile spread across his pretty face, bright and relieved, and he pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair.

"i love you too," jaehyun said, his voice muffled. "i love you so much it scares me sometimes."

"i know," you said, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding on tight. "me too."

you lay there for a long time, just holding each other, not talking. the morning light shifted across the room, and somewhere outside, someone was playing music too loud. it was ordinary and perfect and exactly what you needed.

finally, jaehyun pulled back just enough to look at you. his hair was a complete mess, sticking up in every direction, and there were pillow creases on his cheek, and he was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen in your entire life.

"sooo," jaehyun said, and there was a hint of his usual playfulness in his voice, "does this mean we're not friends with benefits anymore?"

you laughed, the sound surprising you.

"i think we graduated to something else, yeah."

"boyfriends?" he asked, and his eyes were hopeful.

"boyfriends," you agreed.

jaehyun kissed you, soft and sweet, and when he pulled back his smile was so wide it made his eyes crinkle.

"boyfriends," jaehyun said again, like he was trying it on for size. "yeah, i like that."

"me too."

he kissed you again, and then again, and then his hand started wandering south, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

"already?" you asked.

"i've been in love with you for months," jaehyun said, grinning against your neck. "i have a lot of time to make up for."

well, you couldn't argue with that.

“I am, but I feel like I was reborn.” She snickered, rubbing her face against the pillow. “All good?” She looked at your almost dead body on her bed. “How did it go for you? I heard you moan and saw you panting into that weirdo’s mouth. You looked hot fucking him.” You licked your mouth, swallowing a chuckle. 

“It was… okay. Though Mingyu was going too roughly at the end. My ass is on fire. How did you even-.” You trailed off shyly. 

“I took pain killers. Numbing lube, did he not use it?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t see what he used. He did use some, but I was on my stomach facing J-, that weirdo.”

“Do you know him? It looked like he knew you. Jaehyun, I mean.”

“I-, well. He was with us on that trip. I think we’ve talked before.” You shrugged to not get investigated. 

“You must’ve stroked his fancy.” Momo still teased, pushing your shoulder with her finger. 

“I don’t know. He’s weird and he made me uncomfortable.”

“With the car ride? How did that even go. What did he want?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t even say anything.”

“Maybe he gets turned on by watching people suffer and cry? There’s this kink, I can’t think of the name-.”

“Mo, I don’t care.” You stroked her arm. “You’re satisfied? No regrets?”

“No regrets. I loved it, babes. And Yuta can do it with whoever he likes. I don’t care. I did it with someone else too.”

“How would he know?”

“Oh, he will.” She chuckled reaching out for her phone on the bedside table. She leaned in closer to you and you watched her fingers move around the screen, opening the chat with the man who still had a black heart next to his name. There was an audio message sent to him about an hour go. She pressed play and you were listening to a whole choir of moans, groans and slaps. Your eyes widened, palm slapping over your mouth to contain your shock. 

She'd almost pressed pause, but her eyes pierced to yours. When she went quiet for a moment on that recording, your moans became more distinctive. You could hear you panting Jae softly with every thrust he made, and could hear him respond with yes, baby back at you every time. You felt goosebumps all over your skin, hugging your body to stop shivering. You couldn't remember him calling you baby; it would've felt so good to hear it at the moment. 

Fucking hell. You must’ve lost your mind, you couldn’t remember saying this or hearing him call you baby. But it was you. You were sure. 

Momo’s gaze softened. “Fuuuck, he must’ve been really good at it? I wish I felt that.” What a relief, she didn’t find it weird. Phew. Right? It was nothing, wasn’t it?

“You did, I saw him do it with you.” You said sourly. 

“Yes, with two other people. I have no clue who was who.” She locked the phone and threw it to the side. “And I don’t care to know. Female empowerment. Men always use us as a hole for pleasure. It’s my turn to use them as a faceless stick to fill up the hole, huh.” You chuckled at the ridiculousness of her metaphor. “I mean it. John asked for my phone number, I said I don’t like him like that.” She looked over at you. “Did you?”

You broke down in a fit of laughter. Jaehyun had your phone number but barely had a wish to use it. “Why would he even ask?”

“Mingyu acted like he was in love with you.”

“Yeah, and then left me undressed on top of your kitchen counter to be sucked by you.”

“I’m sorry, babes. John said my mouth looked bored and then-.”

“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t like him like that.” You reassured your best friend and hugged yourself on her bed.  

“Are you sure? You two seemed connected, to a certain point.”

“A security guard won’t be even approved by my uncle. Too dangerous of a job, obviously.” You let an eye roll pass your face expression, looking at your best friend once more, curious. 

“What?”she giggled, combing her hair with her hair brush. “You want to ask me more about the intercourse?” 

“No! I-, I don’t,” you shook her off. “I mean, weren’t they rubbing against each other for the most part,” you giggled into your palm. 

“I actually think they were,” Momo leaned in to you in a fit of laughter. “Maybe that’s what got them off. I mean, two of them were pushing inside of me, but I think the third one barely reached. He either got off at the image or at other boys,” she sneered into her arm. “Either way good for him, huh.” 

“I honestly never thought we’d have sex in one room at the same time ever in our lives,” your head shook. It was indeed, a crazy realisation to you. 

“Good think you’re friends with me, then,” she reached for your thigh all of a sudden and began to rub it. You looked at her confused. “We could even do it just by ourselves, in case you never imagined it also,” she’d grabbed onto your thigh and fell back onto her back laughing. 

“No, I’m honestly so tired, I just want to sleep,” she sighed and curled on her side of the bed, dozing off almost immediately. 

-

You’ve taken a break from work, letting your eyes run through the past two weeks of notes in your diary.

August 29th 

I can’t even write down what happened to me, if anything ever happens to me and this diary is found - I don’t want people to know about things I did when I lived. If my grandkids find my diary and read what they grandma did on a random Thursday with her best friend M - I’d die once more of embarrassment. I should probably add this for the sake of anyone who ever reads this beside me - it wasn’t any sort of crime. It was just, well. I’d call it another proof that men are the most difficult species to understand. No exaggeration. 

August 30th

I obviously couldn’t even sleep, been thinking about J once again. I guess it’s obvious whatever happened is related to him. He hurt me so much, this I can write. This won’t make me feel too embarrassed if found.  He forced me into a car when he wasn’t fully sober and drove me to M’s. I was on the verge of death, for sure, and then he’d tried to touch me right after. I told him how I truly felt, because in the moment I truly hated him. He’d pushed me away. He’d slept with M. He slept with her, and then went back to me and we had sex too. Because he tricked my mind, because I felt like he still chose me over her, because he looked me in the eyes and the pain I felt before vanished. I am so down bad for him I don’t know if I could ever willingly leave him.  Is that what love supposed to feel like? I don’t know if I love him. Do I? I’ve been constantly trying to find the answer. But love can’t be pain, I can’t take more pain than this. Everything and everyone I love hurt me at the end of the day.  And J just hurts me all day long.  And somehow, still, I want him just as much as I did before all of this mess.  

You paused reading to pick up your phone. You were surprised when you heard Jaehyun’s voice on the other side of the line. He’d sighed and then proceeded with setting the time and date for your meeting without even a simple greeting. You had your mouth open and close with confusion. 

Still, you’d put your phone away and focused back on your writing. It was an insanely productive day, or to be fair weeks; since you started seeing Jaehyun it’d been way easier for you to sit down and try typing anything into your drafts. It was clearly, a coincidence, he could not affect your life, your inspiration or anything else at all with his mere presence in it. He probably was by your side for less than forty eight hours total, if you’d count all your encounters. 

Regardless, you were sitting down and you were writing down page after page, typing with your fingertips against the keyboard. 

The bell on your door ringing is what caught you by surprise, making your eyes drift to the time in the top right corner of your laptop. It was exactly 6 PM - the time he’d set to see you and you forgot about it completely. You let it slip your mind for the first time, prioritising writing, your main occupation. You let an exasperated sigh out like you didn’t really want to see him and stood up, putting out the cigarette in your brand new ashtray. You’d never greeted him unprepared and unpolished, it felt so weird. Would he notice anything? Did he even care before about it all? 

Your new hobby really made most of your stress go away, it seemed. 

You leisurely walked down the hall to your door, opening it slowly. 

It was such bullshit, your new hobby didn’t do a single thing. Life drained from your body as soon as you saw him, getting nervous, getting sick, worried. Was he going to ask you why you didn’t put nice clothes on, brushed your hair?

Jaehyun looked straight into your eyes, helping with his palm to open the door wider. You tried to read his face properly -  will say a thing or quickly get to the deed? You had no idea what intentions he had or how much time he had on him to entertain you, or better - let you entertain him. 

He held your face in his palm, turning your head upward to give you a kiss, before he could even walk in. He’d took an actual step inside your apartment and as it felt like he’s going to lean in, he’d paused. Full on froze and moved his gaze down the corridor. 

“What is that smell?” Jaehyun leaned in to you and moved his head along your form with a few sniffs. “Did you have someone else around?”

“Did I? Why?” You haven’t caught onto the implication yet. 

“The cigarette smell. You’re not a smoker,” he’d furrowed his brow and it must’ve really set his nerves on edge he’d taken the very same step out of your property. “Is he still here?” Why did he even assume it was a man?

If you were silly and naive, or if you were in the mood to admit to him that he still affected you very much, sober or drunk, you would’ve given him a satisfied grin and fluttered your eyelashes at him while asking if he was asking because he was jealous. It would’ve been that way if he’d showed up at your doorstep five days ago, at least. But it’s been fourteen long, excruciating, agonising days since you last saw him.

Since the day he'd made you choke from a panic attack and then held you so tightly and called you baby while fucking into you. You went through so much, it was hard to even start describing how your home felt like prison; you felt like you needed to be admitted to an asylum. All because this crazy man - he hurt you and then he fucked you, and kissed you and in his own stupid way tried to care for you. He cared for you, right? He did. Even if he was all this, he’d still shown signs of caring. And then evaporated like you never even existed. At one point you even considered asking Momo to send you the audio, to relieve the moment when he loved you through it. 

You were beyond rage, disappointment, wishing to pick a fight. You bought a pack of cigarettes  a week ago and the lightheadedness you felt after smoking the first one did everything you needed. Quickly getting used to smoking a cigarette once the image of him popped in your head. It also made you realise that the more you smoked, the less the effect was there, but you still had to do it to feel at least a tiny bit of that lightness. 

You really seemed to have an addictive personality; first Jaehyun, now cigarettes. 

“I am the smoker. Does that turn you off?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“You are?” He’d frowned even deeper and walked inside, making you step out of the way. You locked the door, and by the time you turned around he put his umbrella by the entrance. He really was feeling himself at home here now, wow. “Since when?” Since you came into my life.  

“Are we here to fuck or talk about my habits?” He looked at you, teeth chewing on the inner side of his cheek. “Do you even care?”

“Lung cancer is a very real thing,” he stepped in closer and let his fingers spread over the column of your neck. “Quit it.”

“Do you even care?” You frowned right back at him, repeating; if he thought he could boss you around you really hoped he’d think again.

“I missed looking into your stubborn eyes,” he leaned in a little closer and despite your wish to jerk your head away he’d caged you, making the grip over your neck tighter. 

“Why would you disappear for a month, then?” 

"It's been just two weeks," he quickly corrected you. So he knows. He'd been counting. 

You raised your arm up to hold onto his wrist, which was a very real threat for air reaching your lungs if he wished to do so.

"Really? I wouldn't know," you shook your head nonchalantly. "I was busy."

Jaehyun leaned more in, and you suddenly became hyperaware of his proximity, of the way his eyes trained yours. How he’d stared and expected anything from you in return. You had so many biting remarks regarding his absence, so many words that would only prove to him further that he’s needed. That he’s missed. He wasn’t going to get it. You leaned in closer, standing on your tippy toes to be right in front of him. He’d pulled you in more by your neck, and you blinked multiple times at him. 

It suddenly dawned on you how you must’ve reeked of cigarettes after spending an entire week just smoking and writing. 

He closed the gap between your mouths and right before he kissed you you managed to dodge the kiss, making his lips land on your cheek. Jaehyun’s fingers gripped tighter over your neck, but they were nowhere near depriving you of air. He dragged his mouth alongside your cheek, taking long breaths in along the way until he reached your ear, taking a breath in of your hair. 

“Go take a shower, I hate the smell of cigarettes in your hair,” he whispered into your ear and the way this shattered the entirety of your self-confidence, you pulled back as far as you could given he was gripping onto your neck and grabbed his hand to pull it away. 

“The door is open, if you don’t like it.”

“I’ll be fine as soon as you wash your hair.”

You looked at him. Giving in, obeying, meant he held some sort of power over you and it was impossible for you to even imagine letting him know it was true. He already knew too much, he already saw you be into him more than it was appropriate. He blinked and you blinked, nothing else. That was until he’d let go of your neck and grabbed onto your hips lifting you off the floor and onto his shoulder. You wheezed at first because stupidly enough you thought he was trying to hurt you. 

When he’d moved his feet and you realised he was just walking, you’d stopped the screaming and tried to get yourself out of his hold, only to end up with his arm gripping your waist like you were a disobedient child; which you probably were acting like right now. 

“Put me down!” You let out in a weak attempt to fight him. It was too obvious where he was making his way, you didn’t agree to it. “Jaehyun!” You screamed and stilled, it was so weird calling out his name. Have you even called his name, at least once? He must’ve sensed you went uncharacteristically quiet up there and stopped before the door that led to your bedroom and let your feet meet the floor. 

He spared no time looking at you this time and just kissed you, pressing his lips against yours. His palms found your waist, squeezing the skin between his fingers and pressing you against the wall. He moved his head up and looked into your eyes, taking a hitched breath in. He didn’t care about the cigarette taste on your tongue? You couldn’t read the face expression. 

“You have another bathroom with a bathtub here, right?” You let a furrowed brow pass your features. “There’s at least three more rooms you don’t seem to be using, I’m sure this huge apartment has a tub,” his fingers trailed your cheek, hooking them under your ear afterwards  and continuing massaging your skin with his thumb. 

“Why?”

“Show me the way,” Jaehyun licked into your mouth not letting you pry an answer out of him. 

You pushed him by the shoulder and in the next few steps you ended up before an almost empty bedroom and he’d moved fully back to see his surroundings properly. You had to drag him behind you into the bathroom, not giving him time to talk and shoved him into the room. 

He let a little impressed whistle out not even making you surprised by the reaction. It was much of a step up in comparison to your shower only bathroom. This room had a whole freestanding bathtub with a painting above it on the wall about the same length as the tub. 

Jaehyun spent maybe thirty seconds ogling the room and then reached for his jacket, taking it off and letting it rest on the cabinet’s handle, undoing top buttons of his dress shirt. He walked past you and got in front of the tub, turning the tap to let the water fill it in. 

“Why are you always making me do something I don’t want to?” You hissed much more accepting than you intended to. 

“It seems like I know better,” he looked from behind his shoulder into your eyes. 

“It doesn’t and you don’t.” You crossed your arm over your chest. 

“Okay,” he’d agreed so easily, getting back to his full height and taking the rest of his clothes off. 

 “What are you doing?” You watched him pull his boxers down the legs and felt a little pang of heat in your chest. “What, you don’t have water at your place?”

Jaehyun actually ignored you, getting himself inside the tub and you’d even took a small step closer to it while he was with his back to you to see how much it filled by now. Not enough to not be absolute freezing as you sit there. That you knew for sure. 

“I don’t have you at home.” He’d glanced and let his head rest on the tub, letting a sigh out and closed his eyes. 

Good thing, because the disbelief and shock projected on your face right after those words left his mouth are not supposed to be seen by anybody. God forbid him. 

That’s easy to change.

We could do this at your place too. 

Isn’t that the choice you made?

You want to?

God, there were so many options to reply and neither sounded like a good one. You just looked at him confused, trying to make your heart calm down. Not imagine too much how it could’ve been if he was someone normal, someone capable of love, relationships, understanding, caring. God. Be someone you could lean on. 

You could’ve been taking these baths every day after a long day of work, sharing how your day went. 

“Why aren’t you undressing?” He suddenly opened his eyes and pierced them through you. “Come here.” He sat making a little wave with the water and reached his still dry palm to you, you’d feigned such resistance and repulsion towards him and still managed to take the tiniest step forward so his palm would cup your hip perfectly. With that little motion he was able to reach for you properly and fully force you next to the tub. 

Jaehyun skilfully undid the bow on your homeware baby pink shorts and pulled the shirt up your stomach for you to take the hint and take it off yourself because he couldn’t reach the top of your head while sitting. You had no intention to help him. You really didn’t want to do things his way. 

Somehow your arms still reached for the hem of the shirt he gave you and pulled it all the way up, until you were left topless before him. 

Jaehyun pulled your shorts together with your panties down and instead of pulling you to sit in the tub with him, leaned over to your stomach and gave its lower part a few warm licks. Your insides tightened in a knot within the very next second; his tongue has never been this close to your naked pussy before, or has it? This heavy breathing on your skin felt like the first time in your life, even. 

He’d let his tongue drag out against your skin and then he’d wrapped an arm around your leg and pulled your core to give it a kiss, making your whole body feel electrocuted. You had to grab onto his head to not lose balance and smash your head against the tile floor. 

He looked up at you from down under with a little mocking smile as he realised you were watching him kiss you. 

“Still no wish to get in here?”

“No,” you grumbled and let your foot up to get it in the tub. Jaehyun pulled back and watched you get fully inside with a little winning smile over his face. 

You stepped in and thought of pressing your back into the opposite side of the tub, so you’d face him, but as soon as both your feet were in the water, Jaehyun’s arms made you not so elegantly fall on top of him, making the water splash around. He’d sneaked an arm over your waist to pull you up his body and made it times harder to keep that sickening image of him wanting you for more than sex out of your head. 

“Relax.” He whispered above your ear; you felt him shift behind you, probably letting his head rest once more. He clearly had no idea he wasn’t helping, you felt even more tensed up than before. Jaehyun’s fingers trailed over your collarbone by taking small steps like they were legs of a tiny human and let his whole palm rest against the column of your neck once more. He pusheed your head onto his chest; not even needing to put much strength into that, you were ready to obey, just needed reassurance he truly wanted it. Wanted you falling deeper into him.  

You let a loud sigh out, trying to take steadier breaths, closing your eyes to focus your mind on Jaehyun’s presence under you. 

On his steady, calming breaths, the way the air out of his lungs distantly tickled your ear; the way his fingers laid flat over your stomach, his other hand returned to your collarbone and his pointer finger was mindlessly drawing lines back and forth over your skin. 

“Momo-,” you let out, but then felt like you were the stupidest person on earth for talking. For bringing her up of all people. That night recirculated before your eyes, the whole-consuming jealousy because he was kissing someone else, fear, anxiety when he forced you in a car with him, plain pain when he’d picked her over you. When he’d left you to someone else when he said he wanted you. You should’ve never brought your best friend’s name up, never bring that night up. 

It was the worst memory in your book; it was also sweet, when you thought about his lips and his fingers gripping your body like he feared you’d disappear. Him calling you baby, even though you couldn’t remember, there was real proof of that. Did he do it before and you also blacked it out? Did he remember you called him Jae like you two meant to each other something?

“What?” He’d raised his head to speak directly into your ear. Your body shivered from the vibration of his voice. Was he curious about her …? Or generally curious about anything you had to say?

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head and went back to quiet. 

“You don’t want to think about that night?” It was hard to figure out whether it was mock that soaked the tone of his voice. “I understand it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Did he mean you were jealous and that was understood? You were ready to throw hands. 

“I purposely hurt you.”

“Oh, you acknowledge that you were being a jerk when you forced me into that car!”

“I wasn’t referring to that only.” So he knew him sleeping with Momo hurt you. It made no difference, because it hurt you still. Maybe even more, since he admitted it was purposeful. “I acknowledge I hurt you in more than one way that night.”

“Why?” You let out a reserved question. 

“Trauma creates attachment.” It was so weird hearing these words come out of his mouth in such a casual manner, feel your skin press into his and have no fucking idea what his eyes looked like. Was he sorry? Did he feel remorse? Was he smirking, smiling? Was that a funny thing to talk about? What did he even mean by this? 

“What?” You breathed out through your nose, scandalised. “There’s about one hundred normal ways to make someone attached to you, if you have such intentions.” You let out, angry. He surely knew there was no point in that either way, you were already enough into him to call that an attachment. 

“I’ve only ever known non-normal ones.” He sighed and the fingers that laid heavy on your stomach came to life and you shivered; and hated his touch. 

“Let me go, I want to get up.” You found his palms over your skin and tried to move them away, he now put strength into his muscles, gluing you closer to his body. 

“We should stay here for a little longer.” You felt his cheek press into the back of your head and felt like you’d rather die than spend a second longer under his embrace. 

“I’m not going to sob over your sad story. If you want to throw a pity party you know I’ll win.”

“I didn’t ask you to. I didn’t even say I want to share a thing.” He let a specifically warm puff of air out than burned your skin. “Your hair still smell like cigarettes.”

“Let me go.” You barked and he probably was so appalled with the sound that left your mouth that he’d moved his hands away. 

You moved away from him, but instead of getting up and leaving, you moved yourself to the other side of the tub and sat down facing him. Jaehyun reached out to close the facet and stop the water from overfilling the tub. 

“What do you want from me?” You furrowed your brow, crossing arms over your chest, not liking the way his eyes ran down to ogle over your boobs when you were trying to corner him into saying you a thing or two that was meant to mean something. 

“What?” He smirked in the most blood boiling way. Like you’d called for him, put him in this bathtub and then suddenly asked him what he even did here.

“You came here and talked shit about me, forced me into this bathtub with you, and now what - what is your plan? What are these things you’re saying? Why are you doing these things? Why do you keep coming back? You don’t want me like that and still come back every time. Please, I’m not your toy. Leave me alone. You’re only hurting me. All of the time.” You ran your fingers through your forehead and realised your frown was deeper than you’ve expected. You tried to convey that emotion also, keep only confusion and complete perplexity with his intentions at this point. Not when he just said between the lines something about wanting you to be attached to him. What for?

“I didn’t talk shit, lung cancer is a very real thing-.” He’d picked the wrong road and you were not in the mood to listen to his stupid stuff. 

“Get up and leave.”

“Okay.” He’d raised his palms up, defeated. Okay? He agreed to leave without a single word against it? That hurt you even more. 

“Thanks.” You folded your legs, keeping the pain inside, pressing forehead into your knees with a sigh. 

It really is the very last time you saw him like this, and there was about ten minutes left in your inner system that was convinced that this was the right decision. Ten more minutes and you’ll bawl your eyes out.

He needed to get the hell out of here i-m-m-e-d-i-a-t-e-l-y. 

“No, not that okay. I’m not leaving.” Your head snapped back up. “I was talking shit, I agreed.” You let an eye roll pass your lids. “Can I ask for a little bit of time? And understanding?”

“What for?”

“I-,” he let a sigh out and your body tensed up. What was it? “I don’t take you as my toy.” His eyes paced over the room instead of focusing on you, the person he was trying to apologise? Come clean to? “And hurting you was never my intention, I’m sorry.” You were so taken aback. You blinked for a good minute confused, staring into his eyes that he finally managed to focus on you and couldn’t believe what he was saying. What you were hearing. 

Was this just another bullshit coming out of his mouth? You needed a pen and your notebook immediately to write down all the feelings that bubbled within you.

“You’re not being sincere. I don’t trust you.” 

“I know, this is very deserved by me after all of this.” 

“Your words are empty air until you do something about it.” 

“I will, just give me time? I won’t break your trust any more.”

“You fucked my best friend,” you let out, heartbroken at a single thought.

“You chose someone else when I tried to pick you,” he defended like he didn’t know if he truly sincerely wanted only you you would’ve not been able to get rid of him. No matter how hard you would’ve fronted. 

“You wanted to fuck her! That time you came to my place, when I thought you were leaving, you fucked her too! Didn’t you?” You regretted the question. You knew you were right, they would’ve never skipped the chance to do it. They were young, hot, drunk and left alone. It’s the fact after he did her he ran back to you that made no sense to you. You could only figure out he liked to be weird. 

“Why don’t you ask her?” Jaehyun raised a challenging brow. There was no challenge. This was stupid. 

“I don’t want to know everything you do. At least now I’m doubting you’re married. Or you’re a serial cheater, and that’s even fucking worse.” 

“You said you wanted more of me.”

“That was a mistake. You put me in a situation where I felt like I could die, when I told you I can’t just get in a car with anyone and payed me no attention. I was scared; I was hurting.” You blinked at him, but Jaehyun’s eyes were set somewhere else. You were in pain, you were suffering through the whole night you were around him starting with the moment he let some random chicks shove their tongues down his throat. All he was doing only brought you pain. No matter how badly you’ve wanted him all this time, this whole thing clearly had barely a chance to stand in a real world.  

“You really want me to go, then?” No, no. I need you to say that you were wrong. Say it. Just tell me you are sorry for everything you did. Ask me to start it all over again? I will do that for you. I’ll erase every painful memory because I really want to be in this with you. 

Why was he taking the wrong meaning out of your words?

“Yes.” 

“Okay, I won’t wait around to be asked to leave a third time.” Jaehyun shook his head and actually stood up; you dipped your head and hid your face in your hands, not ready to watch him leave. 

Your heart beat in your chest. Your head pumped with your boiling blood, but it was the best decision, you couldn’t continue with this torture, give him time, fall into his promises. Not after him acknowledging what he did to you. 

You heard him shuffle with his clothes and he left you absolutely appalled as he kissed the top of your head before leaving.

You weren’t able to keep in your feelings until he left your apartment, you broke down as soon as he left the room. Wailing not even five minutes later.

All of this was so fucking stupid. He didn’t deserve all these feelings you had for him. All that inner turmoil wasn’t supposed to be dedicated to him. 

Still, it was hard to comprehend how much time you spent in that bath after he left. Enough for your skin to start to itch. You got out and threw a shirt over your body, pacing through the apartment to get to your new best friend. 

“Sweet Jesus, are my eyes deceiving me? What is it I’m seeing in your hands, babe?” Momo plopped on the bench next to you and let her lips against your cheek for a second.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you shook your head a little uncomfortable at the attention, the plan was to finish this one off before she arrives. 

“Your uncle have warned me to not turn you into a bad girl and wow, one night stands, threesomes,” you shooshed her mortified, checking nearing tables to see if anyone heard that. “Cigarettes too, what did I do to my sweet childhood best friend.” She cooed and batted her eyelashes. 

“Mo, please. I’ve not been that for at least a decade.” This has nothing to do with you anyway. 

“You’ve been that just four months ago.” She waved you off and opened her mouth probably to pry some things out of you, but you’d managed to safe yourself by asking the waiter to bring you menus. 

Momo needed less than a minute to make a decision and she ordered right on the spot, making you grab the usual shrimp salad to not take too much time with picking.  

“What happened? You don’t just do random things like that. Was that whole experience… traumatising?” 

“No, it wasn’t. It’s not even about that.” You pressed the tips of your fingers between your brows to not lose your temper. 

“What does uncle G think of this?” She chuckled and pulled her vape out of the pocket, breathing in and puffing a giant cloud of air out her nose. 

“He doesn’t have to know everything.” You rolled your eyes and all of a sudden reflected on all of your recent lies and hidings. It was all connected to that same person, someone who still made your heart beat, chest hurt, head spin. 

You were in desperate need of nicotine once more and you clutched onto your phone to hold yourself back from that action. 

You were trying to cut yourself down on this ridiculous addiction. He wasn’t worth the time of your day. Risking your own health because of someone you barely knew? Lung cancer is a very real thing. 

And no, that’s not a quote. Your fingers really itched, especially as Momo puffed another cloud of smoke out of her vape. 

“You know what?” Momo moved your attention from the itching wish, “Yuta said I made all this up. Said I generated the audio to make him mad.”

“No way-.” Was this an appropriate moment to ask her to send it to you?

“Yes, he said he knows what I get like when I’m jealous. He thought I was shitting him to get his attention.”

“Past tense? He doesn’t think so anymore?” You let your finger run up and down your forehead to calm yourself down. You were asking questions but in your head everything led to Jaehyun. 

“No he doesn’t-,” she let a sigh out and you knew she was nowhere near the end of that sentence. 

She looked you dead in the eyes and you raised your eyebrows at her. You knew exactly what it meant. 

The very next moment Momo let her left hand on the table palm down and gave you the confirmation of the assumption. Her old rock was heaving down her finger. 

Ugh, this was tiring. 

You managed to connect this wish to him also. 

“If you two end up get married, please do it before I turn fifty. I would like to be a hot bridesmaid in her prime.” You managed a chuckle out. 

“I know, I know. You hope to find a husband for yourself at my wedding, but I told you times before. I could get you with any of Yuta’s friends if you like any of them.”

“And get myself into something similar to your situation?” You teased. You couldn’t handle going through your life by torturing each other. Hurting your loved one just for the fun of it. You can’t be possibly living like this. “I want a husband that has nothing to do with your future husband; and also possibly someone sweet and caring. I can’t do this thing you two do.”

“Fair point,” she shrugged and then the waiter put your plates before you and you went into the quiet dining.  “Am I going to see you at the Respect for the Aged Day?” 

“What is that?” Both your brows raised up. 

“Japanese embassy holds the event for the first time in ten years. At day time they’re inviting every Japanese immigrant above 70 years old. For dinner time they’re inviting everyone of a different class.” The raise of her brow let you know she meant politicians and people of that sort. 

“I can’t stop wondering how you’re invited to everything that’s going on there.” You chuckled with a little bit of disbelief plastered on your face. 

“Ugh, excuse me?” She raised her finger up. “I’m the daughter of an honorary Japanese native who worked at the embassy for fifty years. My grandchildren will be still thriving from that connection.” She leaned in to her plate and took the spoon in her hands. “And the fact that Yuta’s father was the Ambassador and they just stayed in the country after his mission was over.” She let a little shrug out and it was hard to not laugh. You threw your hand playfully at her and went back to her initial question. 

“I don’t think so, no one invited me.” 

“I’m sure uncle G’s on the list with a plus one. Unless,” she played with her brows. “He finally found someone he could invite!”

“I wish!” You shook your head, knowing damn well he did not. 

“Sweetheart, are you still in bed?” You heard a brush of fingers against the wooden door of your room in your sleep and immediately sat up, not even understanding what was happening. 

“Give me a second.” You cleared your throat and fell back into the pillows after a weak okay slipped through the door. 

You threw a hoodie onto your pjs and walked out into the living room, rubbing your eyes. What time it was? Did something happen? 

“Hi, is everything okay?” You reached out for a short hug and looked back concerned at your uncle. It was a very rare occasion for him to show up at your place uninvited. He usually called, or texted. It’s been a few years since he found the need to check on you at random times to make sure you were still breathing. 

“Yes, I just thought I haven’t seen you besides events in a very long while. It’s a beautiful Sunday morning and I ended up walking in the direction of your house.” He smiled and you gifted him a smile back, rubbing his arm. 

“Want a tea?”

“Yes, please.” He nodded and sat down on the couch. “Did you have Momo stay over?” He ran his eyes over the room and scrunched his nose up. 

“Why?” You asked confused. 

“The cigarette smell, I remember she used to smoke.”

“Oh,” you chuckled. “Yes, right, she was over here last night, I guess the scent of smoking still lingers.”

“It’ll help to get rid of it by throwing away buds.” He gestured at the ashtray. 

“Right.” You smiled and paced to the coffee table to throw them away. 

It was really a relief the only crime he was able to witness was the cigarettes. He could’ve caught Jaehyun in your room. On those rear occasions he stayed in your bed after fucking; it maybe wasn’t more than once or twice, but the memory was in your head forever. 

Jaehyun. Your body physically itched for another cigarette. It’s been so fucking long, and you knew it was over and shit, you were still going down that spiral again. 

“Do you think you could join me for dinner tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Tomorrow was that thing Momo invited you to. “Agh, I actually can’t. Momo invited me as her plus one to some elderly respect day-event tomorrow.” You looked at your uncle. “I’m surprised you weren’t invited.”

“Really? I actually am, I didn’t even bother to invite you. I thought you would say it’s boring and for old people.”

“Well, Momo is going and I thought I should too.”

“Then I guess we are having dinner together.” He smiled, satisfied. “When is she planning to have the wedding?”

“Oh,” you shook your head. “You better ask her that question tomorrow yourself.” You put the cookies in a plate before your uncle, getting cups and tea bags. 

“Remind me again, why do I always trust what you’re saying despite always ending up in situations like this?” You hissed at Momo, wiping your chest with towels from the sticky champagne that a lovely lady no younger than a 100 years old soaked you in by knocking your elbow with her hand, ending up all sticky and queuing up to the bathroom with a bunch of people same age as her. “You said it was supposed to be a fun event in the evening and somehow everyone in here is about four times our age!” 

It’s really been a while since you queued into a bathroom at an event like that. Old people bladders were making you dry the champagne on your chest. 

“I messed up the time a bit!” Momo cried out exasperated, clearly as confused with the whole set up as you were. “There’s a concert in ten minutes and after the concert the dinner and after-party for the VIPs, I’m serious.”

“The concert?” You blinked at Momo in disbelief. “Folklore?” You let out the biggest accepting sigh of your existence. You really wanted to choke her. 

“I’m sorry! I owe you, big one. We’re in row three and we have to be there in time, they’re very strict with late comers.” She pulled her phone out of the clutch and blinked her long lashes at the screen and then at you, even more remorseful than before. 

“No, no, no. I’m not leaving before I get to the water. I’m sticky all the way down to my waist.”

“Babes-,” Momo paused, and everyone perked their ears up as an announcement was made over the speakers. First in Japanese, then in a language you could understand. Last call. Fabulous. “Please, I’m sorry and thank you.” A couple of grandma’s took off from the line upon hearing the announcement and you got closer to the door in hopes of getting in, but then you both heard a distant sound of guitar and before you could react you were dragged down the hall. 

To give a point to Momo, you were crawling through the people in pure darkness, they were seconds from starting and getting to your seats a minute later would’ve been even more awkward. You trailed behind your best friend, also very thankful she was working out rows, seats and saving you the difficulty. 

“These are our seats,” Momo gestured with her finger to two empty seats down the line and quickly made her way down the row. You followed behind, slouching as the MC walked out on the stage and the people applauded, partially trying to get up for ovations. You tried to see the stage and figure out if that was someone famous over there. 

You’d ended up before your seat just in time as the lights got a bit brighter to focus all of the attention on the stage and the officials that were going to make the opening speech. You almost tripped over your neighbours leg as you plopped down and turned around to excuse yourself. 

“Oh,” your eyes quite literally bugged out upon registering who your neighbour was. You’d furrowed a brow as soon as he acknowledged you were looking at him; and that it was you, and turned away. You quickly turned around to Momo, to see what sort of sick matching up she was making by making you sit right next to your offender.

What the fuck?

The girl clapped her hands and looked at you suddenly excited, almost making it too suspicious for your surprised mind. Did she or did she not do this?

The first act came up on stage and the lights dimmed back down and only then did you become hyperaware of your neighbour. 

Jaehyun sat down with his knees a little spread, arms folded over his crotch, back so straight it’s like he was in a competition for the most right posture in the world. One more glance over at him and you became hyperaware of your slouch and straightened your back to match him. 

You glanced over at him once more and wondered if he really was so soaked into what was going on on the stage he couldn’t notice you obviously checking him out. Now it was almost a question of pride, to look at him and make him look back. How quickly would he give in?

You got startled by an excited sigh Momo let out and moved your entire attention onto her. “Still sure it was a mess up with the timing?”

“Why would I not enjoy it if I’m here!” She chuckled and clapped her hands as the second act walked up on the stage. It was a lovely lady in traditional clothing preparing to play an instrument you had no idea the name of. 

Good reminder you weren’t part of the culture. You let a sigh out and dropped your back against the chair, tangling your legs in a knot to kill the wish to touch Jaehyun’s leg with yours. 

It seemed like it was a destiny, though, to touch him in one way or the other, because as you worked hard to tangle up your legs the purse that was placed over your thighs slid down to one side, Jaehyun’s side of course, and you really tried hard to catch it, but the purse slipped and despite your expectations Jaehyun turned on his Spider-Man senses and caught the bag for your mid way to the floor. 

You tried to catch up with him and instead of doing so quickly and turning away like nothing happened, you smashed your forehead into the side of his head and if your forehead must’ve just hurt his ear, your skull felt like it hit a rock, no less, and split into two pieces. 

“Shit, are you okay?”Jaehyun grabbed onto your face like he was allowed to do that, pulling you in closer and touched your forehead, cheeks, nape, everything. In the midst of a fucking concert, mind you. “Talk to me.” he pressed his mouth against your ear, probably for you to hear him better amidst the singing that was happening three rows before you, but it was such a shocker. The feeling of his fingers, the softness of the touch, his lips on your ear. The whisper of your name as you ignored his questions. 

It was the touch of Momo’s fingers on your elbow, the very confused “What happened?” That got you out of those feelings in a second and you hit Jaehyun on the forearms to let you go and threw an excuse at Momo and got up to run away from Jaehyun, from those thoughts, from his touch. You heard him get up behind you and felt like you will die once you get one on one with him. 

Thankfully a man two seats to the right stopped him. He quite literally didn’t let him follow you. You heard the man say something about it not being a walking alley and telling him to wait twenty minutes for the ending. It was a relief, but it also was so fucking painful. How the universe played in your favour and then didn’t. 

You reached for your shoulder to get the purse in your hands and realised it wasn’t there. 

Fuck, it really wasn’t on you. When you smashed into Jaehyun he’d threw the purse he caught behind his back onto the seat to take your face in his hands. The way he so carefully caressed your cheek with his thumb. You were one step away from throwing up. 

You couldn’t even leave, because all of your belongings were in his fucking hands. You couldn’t return either, because staying right next to him for another twenty minutes was beyond you. 

You were sure a cigarette would’ve made the tremor in your hands go. 

You walked to the entrance to have a look at the sun that was setting and calmed yourself down; you needed to spare about fifteen minutes and then you’d return for the ending and walk out with Momo who would not tolerate the intruder. 

It was easier than expected, to find yourself busy for such a short period of time when your mind was a total mess. You tried hard to stop yourself and not think of Jaehyun, get back stoically and ignore him for the rest of the evening. 

What the hell was he doing here anyway? Why was he so freely touching your face? The action was beyond trying to carefully make sure a stranger was okay. Was he feeling himself freer than usual? All after you were kind of done with each other. Agh, you were going insane. 

You quickly got to your seat a couple of minutes before the ending and only as you were bothering people to walk down your seat you realised you had the perfect chance to wash up in the probably empty bathroom from champagne and blew it. 

You sat down onto your seat and felt the material behind your back, taking the purse from behind you. Jaehyun did the right thing, he’d returned your belonging and left you alone, finally. That’s what you needed from him in the first place. 

“Is everything okay?” Momo looked at your calmed down face. You were pretty sure you were all good, the hit wasn’t that bad on the second thought, it was Jaehyun’s rock hard skull, but somehow you didn’t feel like you were getting a bruise. You gave your best friend a nod and her eyes fell behind you. “I’m sorry about your neighbour, I had no idea he was going to be here.”

“It’s nothing. I couldn’t care less.” You brushed her off and before Momo could give you anything in reply turned your attention to the stage. The last act was wrapping up their dancing and the MC quickly ran up on stage once more to call on everybody on stage. 

You felt Jaehyun lean into your side, or maybe you imagined it, but regardless, you’ve grabbed Momo’s arm and pulled her to exit in a different direction from Jaehyun as soon as it was appropriate. 

“But at the end of the day, the concert was really fun. I felt like I went home for a bit.” Momo blinked dreamily. 

“Home? I’m pretty sure you’ve been to Japan twice for a couple of days.” You mocked your best friend, who previously stated that here home was here. She honestly was so ready to jump from one opinion to the other; and you thought that lovingly. 

“My ancestors are calling me right after I saw all of these people! My people!” She acted out a little skit of homesickness. 

“I think your phone is what’s calling,” you laughed, hearing her ringtone through the crowd’s noise.

“Shoot!” Momo quickly picked up her phone and changed her voice one-eighty. “Baby, hi!” She shooshed you for the eye rolling and turned a little away, though you could still hear and see her conversation with the man. “You can’t find a what-?” She pushed the phone into her ear more. “Laptop?” She pressed a finger to one of her ears, still having issues with hearing her man. “No, I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t think so.” She made a funny face at you and you let a chuckle out. “Baby, I’m out at an event right now. I can’t check if your laptop is at my place.” She blinked faster than before, a well known sign of stress and the way her mouth dropped a little made you concerned. “Yuta, don’t talk to me like this!” She gasped offended and looked away from you. “No, I understand. I understand-, your work is important. It is, I’m sorry. I-, I guess I’ll be at my place in forty and could check.”

“No,” you overheard the words and took her forearm in your hold. “You’re not leaving.”

“Babes, i’m so sorry.” She sighed out as she put away the phone in her clutch. “Yuta’s having an important meeting tomorrow, I can’t do this to him.”

“Meeting on a Saturday?”

“I don’t know much, but he needs his laptop and I’m partially sure it is at my place. He waits for it before midnight… and well,”

“Momo Hirai this is the very last time I’m going anywhere with you!”

“But uncle G is supposed to be here, let’s find him.”she tried to butter you up, but it was honestly pointless. You send her off on her merry way and called the man right after. 

It wasn’t hard to find him, he’d arrived like he was supposed to, for the dinner start and immediately managed to sneak a seat for you next to him, making someone else take a seat at the other table. 

Finally, a warm company of your uncle, chatter of men and women that couldn’t bother less to pay you attention; they’ve learned their lesson years ago, they’ve been taking you as a stubborn teenager on her uncle’s side, you were happy to continue with the agenda. The food was good, the background music was good, your cocktail tasted like heavens, and there was no obstacle by the name of Jaehyun in your peripheral vision. The evening almost promised to be good. 

The fourth cocktail really pushed down all the liquid in your bodily system to your bladder; you really tried to hold it in, but there was no point to deny it any longer; you needed to use the bathroom.

You'd gotten on your feet and found out the world was more wobbly than you've remembered. You took your purse with you in case a smoke brake was needed and quietly wobbled out of the dining area and into the corridor.

There were a lot of people around; chattering, taking pictures, laughing, smoking out on the terrace, clearly returning from the restroom break. The queue to the bathroom didn't shorten one bit; it probably was due to everyone drinking alcohol and really the lack of stalls at the embassy. You remembered the secret bathroom on the second floor Momo showed you as an honorary citizen. You had no idea how it was connected, but if it at least had fewer people queuing you'll take it. 

The music was getting progressively quieter, the chatter was left behind and for a moment you wondered if the bathroom was indeed a secret. You began to walk a little slower to not make much noise and thus not create attention. You were tip-toeing almost when you realised the sounds that you were hearing didn't come from your feet; they weren’t coming from heeled shoes. 

One of the security guys must've followed you here in case you were trying to somehow steal Japan's national secrets instead of peeing. You turned around on your heel with a smile in one swift motion and felt your head spin in a second. You crouched and grabbed onto your head quickly, "I'm just going to the bathroom, I'm not stealing anything." You whispered bent and thought of Jaehyun once more. 

It was his fucking hard skull that made you so sick; did you get a concussion? Or were that the drinks?

"Hey, did you have too much to drink?" Jaehyun's arm wrapped your waist and in a second you were flushed against him. 

"It's your fucking rock hard skull!" He dared to let a chuckle out. "Don't touch me, there could be people." The weakest attempt to get rid of him ended up with you wobbling and ending up in his arms once again. Okay, you'll accept this fate. "Or cameras!”

“You crossed the no trespassing door, I don’t see cameras either, so I can do things to my heart’s content.”

“No trespassing? Where? I didn’t see it.” You tried to look past him but couldn’t see a thing. 

“I figured that out, that’s why I followed.” Jaehyun’s hand hooked behind your ear and pulled your face up. “Are you going to tell me to leave you once more?” He’d leaned in and challenged you with a stare. 

“It depends on how shitty you’ll treat me after.”

“I promised you I won’t do that anymore.” Jaehyun leaned his face to yours a little and looked you in the eyes, making you in return lean against the wall behind you. 

“But did you mean it?” You let a whisper out.

Jaehyun’s lips moved, but he didn’t make a sound. He’d licked them and leaned in to you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Of course I did.” He made you lean against the wall fully and moved his hands from your waist, lips landing on the other side of your mouth. 

“What is it you’re trying to do?” Your hand landed on Jaehyun’s shoulder to push him away, but instead it looked like you pulled him in closer to you. 

“Just giving you a couple of kisses to stop you from frowning so much.” Jaehyun’s fingers landed on your cheek and he’d craned your head to get better access to the skin of your neck and let his lips pepper a bunch of kisses down the side of your neck. 

“Did you drink?” You looked at him and closed your eyes, giving up on your eyes, it was so hard to keep them open. 

“No, like a flute of champagne or something like that, I’m on duty. I represent the Embassy here.” Jaehyun rubbed your cheek to make you look at him and you obeyed, opening your eyes and dying at the proximity. 

Why was he being so sweet? Or were you drunk to think he was being sweet?

“Does the embassy know the shit you’re doing on your free time?”

“We better hope they don’t know about you,” he chuckled against your collarbone. “Or do you want them to know?” He’d smiled a Cheshire Cat smile and pulled back a little. 

“No; I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about SNNR, making out with strangers, doing sex with strangers, noncommittal sexual encounters, mentally abusing people? Do they know you’re being very naughty on the government money?” You pulled Jaehyun’s head back from licking into the base of your neck by his nape; taking a glance in his eyes even though he clearly found you amusing. 

“All of that is not even considered a sin in the book of all of my colleagues, I’m a literal saint for them.” Jaehyun’s fingers moved to your chin and in no time his lips covered yours; then his arms gripped your waist and it was maybe ten seconds until you’ve forgotten absolutely everything you wanted to tell him. 

You gripped onto his neck and panted into his mouth, until it moved lower and made a symmetrical wet trail on the other side of your neck, getting to your chest. You were finding it hard to breathe without making a sound. You wanted to moan. 

“Why do you taste like champagne?” Jaehyun’s tongue ran over your cleavage and he’d pulled back, licking his lips. “Does the taste go everywhere? Should I taste test?” Jaehyun’s fingers lowered onto your ass and the way your arms wrapped his neck and practically let you hang on his frame was really embarrassing. “What? So you push me away, but you get drunk and miss me?”

“Mmh, I do miss you,” you pulled your head a bit away and leaned in front of his face, letting Jaehyun’s lips find yours on their own. He kissed your lips, pushing you more against his body like he missed you too. You could feel it in the way his tongue was pacing in your mouth with no breaks. “Take me home,” you mewled against his mouth. 

“I can’t, baby. I have to spend some more time here.” 

“But I want you,” you cried out loud. You had no idea what you were doing, throwing yourself at him like that. You could only blame it on alcohol and hope he understood it too. 

Jaehyun pulled back, smile so wide embarrassment hit you even through the hazed state. His lips landed onto your temple. “I know, you’ve been a good girl waiting for me for weeks all of this time; don’t break this thing we have. Be my good girl.” You were sure your heart exploded in your chest and now the pieces were scattering down your insides. You’ll replay those words in your head non-stop; scratch whatever you said before about wanting him to leave, wishing he didn’t want you anymore. It was all bullshit; this right here is what you were dreaming of. Be his; get praised and taken care of, loved and cherished all by him. 

Instead of an answer you cuddled into him, hiding your face against his beating heart and Jaehyun let you sink into the feeling, let you hold him tightly, returning the gesture by giving you the tightest hug in return. 

“It’s not like you’re going to walk back home?” He’d caressed your side in a minute. 

“No, I think my uncle’s going to drive me back home.” 

“Okay, good. You have to return back there before it gets too suspicious. Go to your uncle and tell him you want to go home.” Jaehyun peeled you from his body and took your face in his hands once more. You nodded, agreeing. 

“Will you come see me when you’re done here?”

“I don’t know, I’ll have to see.” Jaehyun looked at you sincerely and then kissed your lips for the briefest moment. “I’ll try to.”

“I’ll be waiting.” He’d chuckled amused at the admittance and let go, trying to take a step away from you. You’d caught his arm, making him cheese even wider than before; he thought you needed more of his kisses and pressed his mouth against yours. 

But it’s not what you meant; even though you weren’t opposed to the idea of kissing him for a little longer, you pulled his mouth away from yours and wiped your red lipstick from his face with the back of your palm. It probably still was messy, but it was the best you could do with the eyes that barely saw a thing. 

You let Jaehyun go and stepped away, walking back to the dining area, forgetting all about the bathroom, you found uncle G and begged him to take you home early. He had no reason to tell you no. 

You quickly got back home and took a very quick and a very sobering shower, falling asleep around 5 AM when your brain and eyes couldn’t take it anymore. 

You’ve waited for Jaehyun the entire night and he never showed up. He lied to you like he always did. 

xoxo

see you all soon !!!