loser

3526 this is very self-indulgent and quick, thinking about turning one of these into a drabble but still just thinking. this is suggestive okie. mentions of sex. dorm set. idk what i did on jay's he is just hot and rich and a businessman? established six months relationship too. this is pure crack and unserious! light manhandling on riki's. everyone is in grey sweatpants because i said so. jay comment reader is “heavy”.

heeseung

heeseung’s legs are spread wide on the couch, controller in hand, screen flashing with colors you don’t understand. he’s been sitting there for hours, headset dangling off one ear, muttering curses under his breath in english. the dorm is quiet, jungwon passed out in his room, and it feels weird being here when it’s usually chaos.

you pad out from the kitchen, watch him lean forward, elbows on his knees, hair falling into his eyes. he looks stupidly good like this—plain black tee, sweatpants, jaw locked in concentration.

“you’re so serious,” you murmur, but he doesn’t answer.

so you do the most rational thing. you climb straight onto his lap.

heeseung doesn’t flinch. doesn’t even pause. his arm automatically curls around your waist like this is muscle memory, pulling you closer until your back is flush to his chest. his other hand is still on the controller. “hey, baby.” his voice is low, casual, like you didn’t just ruin whatever game he was sweating over.

you squint at the screen. “didn’t you just die?”

“probably,” he says, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin, “don’t care.”

“your rank?”

“what rank?”

god, he smells good. clean shampoo and his cologne, a little bit of fabric softener from the hoodie you stole last week. you shift, testing him, and his arm tightens around your waist, big hand splayed across your stomach like he owns the whole situation.

“hee,” you tease, tilting your head back to look at him, “you’re supposed to be focusing.”

“i am focusing.” he presses a kiss under your jaw, soft and lazy. “just not on that.”

the controller clatters onto the coffee table. both arms lock around you now, crushing you to his chest. he leans back, stretching his legs out even further until you’re practically lying across him. “you know how hard it is to get a day off? you think i’m wasting it on a stupid game when you’re here?”

you huff, but your pulse betrays you. “you’re dramatic.”

“and you love it.” his grin flashes against your neck before he kisses you again, slower this time.

you try to roll your eyes, but it’s hard when his hands are roaming, thumbs brushing your ribs like he’s memorizing them. his whole body radiates warmth, steady and sure, like the safest trap you’ve ever fallen into.

the tv beeps, announcing another lost round. you laugh into his chest. “you lost again.”

heeseung doesn’t even look. “shut up,” he mumbles, lips trailing along your cheek, “i’m winning where it matters.”

“that was so corny.”

“mm.” his teeth catch your jawline, gentle but cocky. “and you’re still sitting here.”

you push at his chest, but he catches your wrist, threading your fingers with his and kissing the back of your hand like some old-fashioned idiot. his eyes, half-lidded and dark, make your stomach flip.

“you’re insane,” you whisper.

he smirks, tilting his head. “insane for you. now shut up and let me hold you before jungwon wakes up and ruins this.”

jongseong

the first time you do it that day, it’s morning. jay’s at the kitchen table, laptop open, phone pressed to his ear. his shirt is white, crisp, with the top two buttons undone, cufflinks glinting at his wrists. his hair is parted neatly, still damp from his shower, a cologne trail of something expensive lingering in the air. you don’t even hesitate—you slide into his lap, curling sideways like you belong there.

jay’s hand steadies you instantly, thumb brushing your thigh, but his voice on the call doesn’t falter. “yes, i’ll have my assistant confirm the schedule by noon.” he nods once, then dips his head to press a quick kiss to your temple before continuing like nothing happened.

later, it’s mid-afternoon in the building’s private gym. jay’s in black joggers and a fitted long-sleeve that clings to his shoulders, hair swept back with sweat darkening the strands. he’s seated on a bench, scrolling through something on his phone between sets. you plop down across his thighs like it’s the most natural thing.

he glances up at you, not even surprised. “you’re heavy,” he deadpans, but his arm snakes behind your back, hand firm on your waist, keeping you there anyway. the mirror across from you catches his profile—sharp jaw, calm expression, as if he isn’t sitting under the weight of you in the middle of the gym. you tell him you’re not heavy. he doesn’t argue, just smirks, breath steady.

in the evening, he’s on a call again—this time with his manager, voice low and even as he reviews something about endorsements. jay’s in his home office now, blazer thrown over the chair, sleeves rolled up on a pale-blue dress shirt. his hair has fallen slightly out of place from the day, softer around his temples. you climb onto his lap again.

“no, that budget isn’t acceptable,” he says into the phone, eyes flicking up to you. there’s a faint twitch of a smile when you settle against him, knees pressing into his thighs. he doesn’t pause once, only adjusts you closer with one hand at your hip while the other stays perfectly steady with the phone.

by night, he’s on the couch, finally free of everything. plain black t-shirt, gray sweatpants, hair pushed back carelessly now. he’s scrolling through something mindless on tv when you take your usual seat on him. this time he lets out a quiet laugh, low in his chest, finally acknowledging you.

“you really don’t believe in chairs, do you?” his voice is soft, amused.

“you don’t mind,” you shoot back.

he tilts his head, eyes holding yours, and it’s annoyingly true: he doesn’t. not once all day did he flinch or complain or ask you to move. he just let you take over his lap like it was your spot all along.

his hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb grazing your cheekbone with quiet reverence. “six months,” he murmurs, half to himself, “and you already think you own me.”

you grin. “don’t i?”

jay’s lips curve, gentlemanly and dangerous at once. “maybe you do.”

sunghoon

sunghoon is camped out in the dorm’s armchair, phone angled low like he’s scrolling something he won’t admit to later. he looks stupidly put together for a day off—black sweater neat against his frame, slacks instead of sweats, hair parted down the middle like he’s shooting a commercial instead of hiding out in the dorm.

the room smells faintly of detergent and the faint spice of his cologne clinging to the air, the kind that makes you suspicious he sprays it just to sit in his own living room. outside, traffic hums against the glass, muted by the height of the building.

you cross the room, ignore every perfectly good chair and the wide couch, and drop yourself onto his lap like gravity picked favorites.

sunghoon blinks once. twice. then, “what the fuck.”

“sitting,” you say simply, adjusting like you’re fluffing a pillow.

“there’s a whole couch.”

“yeah, but your thighs are free real estate.” you pat his leg for emphasis.

his phone hits the side table with a clack, his hand sliding to your waist almost automatically. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet you’re not moving me.” you grin, tilting your head. “maybe you like it.”

his jaw ticks, but the corner of his mouth betrays him, twitching like he’s fighting a smile. “you’re more annoying than you think.”

“say that again and i’ll post your middle school figure skating pics,” you shoot back, leaning closer.

sunghoon exhales, nose flaring like he’s caught between throttling you and laughing. “you don’t even have them.”

“don’t test me, park. the internet is my playground.”

he finally cracks, a laugh low and sharp spilling out. the sound vibrates against your chest where you’re pressed to him, and you hate how good it feels. his hands are still firm at your sides, anchoring you there like his body doesn’t match his words.

“you’re a menace,” he says, softer now, eyes locking with yours.

“and you’re hot. tragic combo for you.”

he tilts his head, studying you with that half-amused, half-dangerous look he always gets when you’ve backed him into a corner he secretly enjoys. “one of these days, you’re going to push me too far.”

you smirk, leaning in until your lips nearly brush his. “good. i’m bored.”

the silence stretches, thick with everything unsaid, the muted city noise pressing at the windows. his cologne curls warm in your nose, his chest rising steady against yours. then he’s kissing you, sharp and unhesitating, like giving in is inevitable.

when he pulls back, his voice is low but his eyes give him away, softer than he wants them to be. “you’re impossible.”

you grin, settling in smugly. “and yet here i sit.”

sunghoon shakes his head, defeated, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your hip like you’ve already won.

jake

the dorm is quiet, rare miracle. you find jake sprawled across the couch, hair damp from a shower, grey sweatpants, white tank. he’s got his phone in one hand, absentmindedly scrolling, one ankle bouncing.

you don’t even hesitate—you climb right into his lap, straddling him like the couch doesn’t exist.

his reaction is instant. phone down. grin wide. eyes sparkling like you just announced free beer for life. “ohhhh,” he says, already sliding his hands to your hips, “so it’s one of those nights.”

you blink. “it’s five p.m.”

“and?” his hands are already traveling, palms big and hot on your thighs.

“i just wanted to sit.”

“sure, baby, you can sit,” he smirks, already tugging at the hem of his shirt. “on me.” he yanks it up, muscles flexing, like he’s in the middle of a nike ad.

you grab his wrists mid-motion, deadpan. “why can’t you keep your hands to yourself for once?”

jake freezes, shirt half-off, abs flashing, hair sticking up in the static of his effort. he blinks up at you, mouth slightly open, like you’ve just spoken in a language he doesn’t understand. “...what do you mean?”

“i mean,” you emphasize, shifting in his lap just to spite him, “not everything is an invitation for sex.”

silence. the kind that stretches, heavy with disbelief.

you stare at him. he stares at you.

his shirt is bunched awkwardly around his neck.

the moment cracks—he bursts out laughing, head tipping back, shoulders shaking. “you’re insane. you’re sitting on my lap and i’m the problem?”

“yes,” you say firmly, trying not to smile.

he leans forward until your noses nearly bump, grin boyish and dangerous. “you’re telling me you climb on top of me like this—” he squeezes your hips for emphasis, “—and you don’t want me?”

you roll your eyes. “sometimes i just want to be comfortable.”

“baby,” he says, dropping his voice like it’s some big secret, “sitting on my dick is not comfortable.”

you slap his chest, laughing despite yourself. “you’re the worst.”

he grins wider, finally tugging the shirt all the way off and tossing it aside like he’s won a medal. “and yet you keep coming back.”

you sigh dramatically, leaning your forehead to his shoulder. “i regret everything.”

he kisses the top of your head, warm and smug, hands still glued to your hips. “no, you don’t.”

and you don’t—because even when he’s impossible, even when his sex drive runs on cartoon logic, jake is stupidly hot, stupidly funny, and stupidly yours.

sunoo

sunoo is curled on the dorm sofa, glasses sliding down his nose, scrolling through his ipad. he’s in loose cream sweatpants and a soft beige hoodie, hair fluffy from air-drying, smelling faintly of that clean citrus body wash he hoards.

you cross the room, flop right onto his lap like it’s reserved seating.

“oh,” he says lightly, adjusting his ipad higher so he can still read. his arm slides around your waist automatically, not even looking up. “comfortable?”

you blink. “…yeah.”

“good.” his tone is smooth, calm, like he’s offering room service.

you shift a little, testing him, rocking your hips just enough. his breath hitches—barely—but his face stays neutral, eyes glued to the screen like he’s reading stock updates instead of trying not to implode.

“sunoo,” you murmur, leaning close to his ear, “you’re really not gonna say anything?”

he finally looks at you, blinking once, expression the picture of innocence. “about what?”

“i’m sitting on you.”

“mm,” he hums politely, fingers tapping lightly at your side. “yes. i noticed.”

you squint. “that’s it?”

“what else would you like me to say?”

“i don’t know, maybe react?” you lean back, exaggerating a sigh. “most boyfriends would’ve at least dropped their ipad by now.”

sunoo’s lips twitch—barely. he adjusts his glasses, regal as ever. “i assumed you were just getting comfortable.”

“you assumed wrong.”

he tilts his head, feigning confusion. “then enlighten me.”

you shift again, more obvious this time. you feel the evidence of his body betraying him, hard under the thin fabric, but his face doesn’t budge. he actually smiles politely, as if you’ve just asked him to pass the salt at dinner.

“are you…” you narrow your eyes, “seriously pretending nothing’s happening?”

sunoo clears his throat, smooth as ever. “i would never accuse my girlfriend of ulterior motives. that would be ungentlemanly.”

you choke out a laugh. “ungentlemanly? you’re literally—”

“shh.” he presses a finger to your lips, still calm, still composed, even as his ears burn pink. “let’s not ruin the moment. if you’re comfortable, that’s all that matters.”

the sheer audacity makes you giggle, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “you’re insane.”

his hand rubs slow circles against your hip, soothing, polite, infuriatingly composed. “and you’re warm,” he says softly, eyes already flicking back to his ipad. “so stay as long as you’d like.”

and that’s how sunoo wins—by refusing to play your game, sitting there looking like a painting while his pulse runs wild under his skin.

jungwon

you’re restless. not in the fun, jittery way—more in the way your skin feels too tight and every little thing grates on your nerves. your body aches, your head is heavy, and you’re pouting at nothing, shuffling around the dorm like maybe it’ll distract you. it doesn’t.

jungwon is on the couch, glasses on, plain black shirt, hair parted and falling into his forehead. the lamp is dim, painting him in gold and shadow. he looks up once when you pass by, then again when you hover, frowning at the floor like you’ve lost something.

you open your mouth to say it, to admit what you need. but he beats you to it.

his legs spread slightly, one hand dropping from the armrest to his thigh. his voice comes low, steady, serious enough to still the air.

“sit.”

the word lands in your stomach like a command you didn’t even know you’d been waiting for. there’s no question in it, no room for negotiation—just absolute certainty.

you blink, pout deepening. “won.”

his eyes don’t waver. “c’mere.”

you move before you think, crossing the short space and lowering yourself into his lap. his arm is around your waist immediately, pulling you closer until your cheek presses into the solid warmth of his chest.

“cute,” he murmurs, voice quiet against your hair.

you make a small sound of protest, but it dies as his hand spreads across your back, rubbing slow circles like he already knows how wound up you are.

“you could’ve just asked,” he says evenly, no teasing in it, no judgment.

“i didn’t wanna be annoying,” you mutter into his shirt, your words muffled.

he exhales softly through his nose, tightening his hold. “you’re never annoying.” his tone is serious, unflinching, like he’s not going to let you argue with him.

the room hums quiet around you—just the muted city noise outside the window, the tick of the clock down the hall. jungwon is warm everywhere, his chest rising steady under your cheek, his cologne faint but grounding.

your pout lingers, though it feels more like habit than anything now. “you don’t even care if i’m clingy.”

“no.” he says it instantly, like it’s the easiest truth in the world. “i care that you feel better.

that shuts you up.

his hand slips to your thigh, heavy and grounding, while the other stays at your back, keeping you tucked against him. his glasses slide slightly down his nose as he tilts his head to look at you, expression calm but unyielding.

“you need me,” he says simply, like stating a fact. “so i’m here.”

riki

riki’s sprawled across the dorm sofa like he bought the whole thing himself. his legs are everywhere, long enough to take up half the living room, controller loose in his hands as his attention drifts between the game on screen and whatever snack wrapper is sitting beside him. black basketball shorts, oversized tee, hair sticking up from his latest “nap” that was actually three hours long.

you hover in the doorway for a second, taking him in. there’s plenty of space on the couch. plenty. but that’s not the point.

without a word, you march over and plop down onto his lap.

the thing is—riki doesn’t react. at all. he doesn’t startle, doesn’t flinch. his arm just automatically shifts, draping across your hip like this has always been the plan, and his eyes stay glued to the tv.

his lap is stupidly big, like sitting on one of those fancy beanbags but firmer, his thighs wide enough you could lie down fully and still have room. he smells like fabric softener and that faint sweetness from his shampoo, warm and clean and boyish.

“hey,” he mutters, calm, like you’ve just handed him the remote.

you frown. “that’s it? hey?”

“what do you want me to say?” he clicks a button, jaw working as he chews his gum.

“i don’t know, maybe ask why i’m sitting on you?”

riki finally glances down, expression flat. “why wouldn’t you sit here?”

you blink, thrown. “that’s—okay, fair point.”

he shrugs, smirking faintly, then leans back further into the cushions. one of his hands slips to your thigh, patting it absently before going back to his controller. “you’re comfy.”

you glare at him, half-playful, half-annoyed. “i’m comfy? you’re using me as a cushion.”

“same thing.”

it should annoy you more than it does. instead, you find yourself melting into him, head tucked against his shoulder. his body is ridiculously warm, steady, built like a furnace. he doesn’t move you, doesn’t complain—he just adjusts your weight here and there, tugging your legs across his, shifting you until you’re wedged perfectly against his chest like a human pillow arrangement.

the game continues, background noise more than anything, while his thumb rubs lazy circles into your side.

you try to test him—wiggle a little, shift against his thigh.

that’s when he finally stills. his controller drops slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to pin you in place. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” you ask innocently, though your grin betrays you.

“don’t move like that.” his voice is calm, low, but it rumbles through his chest against your cheek.

you raise a brow. “like what?”

he doesn’t answer—he just sets the controller aside completely, both hands gripping your waist now.

suddenly, you’re repositioned—lifted, twisted, settled back onto his lap in one smooth motion like you weigh absolutely nothing. his strength is effortless, terrifyingly casual, like rearranging furniture.

“like that,” he says finally, gaze steady, mouth set in a line that almost hides the flicker of heat behind his eyes.

your pulse spikes, but you refuse to let him win. “you’re ridiculous.”

he leans closer, nose brushing your hairline, breath warm against your temple. “and you’re playing with fire.”

his lap feels different now—less like a couch, more like a trap. his hands stay where they are, firm against your waist, holding you in place like you might try to escape.

the silence stretches, broken only by the faint sounds of the game still running idle on the screen. you feel every shift of his chest as he breathes, every small twitch of his fingers against your side.

finally, he sighs, shaking his head like he’s humoring a child. “you’re lucky i like you.”

“lucky?” you scoff, though your voice is thinner than you want it to be.

“yeah.” his mouth curves into a slow smirk, eyes dark but lazy. “otherwise i’d already have you begging.”

you open your mouth, ready to fire back something equally sharp, but the words die when his grip tightens, pulling you flush against him, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

the controller beeps, signaling his character’s death, but he doesn’t care.

“see?” riki murmurs, leaning back with you caged against him, voice smooth and unbothered. “you’re distracting. i told you not to move.”

and somehow, sitting in his lap feels a lot less innocent than when you first dropped down.

۶ৎ , i swear i can do better than this, this was just a silly sleepy thought ><

The night club was full by the time the clock struck 1 despite being a Thursday night. Group of friends mostly filled the available tables and couch of the knit-tight club. The speaker’s blasting throughout the four corners with the dj playing some edm music.

It was loud, sweaty, and hot. People your age were dancing and singing along some 2010s pop song as their sweaty bodies hyped the dance floor — completely contrasting you. 

You were wearing a black denim pants and a halter top, sitting legs-crossed on the high stool by the bartender’s counter. You've been sitting there since 11 in the evening and yet, you’re still halfway on your bottle of beer. 

Clubs aren’t always your go-to place, but you felt the urge to celebrate small wins for things that happened today. A small smirk forming on your face as you recall the afternoon scene. 

Your ex-best friend, Yoomi lost her scholarship. What a great way to start your senior year in college. You think. On the first day of class, Yoomi let the tears fall out of her eyes as your other ‘friends’ gathered around to comfort her. Yoomi was sobbing hard as she bore the news on why she was crying. 

She was so loud. It was clear that she wanted to gain sympathy from your other classmates. She lost her scholarship because her gpa last academic year didn’t make it to the cutout. That is because of that one professor who gives low grades. You got a low grade from that professor too but you didn’t mind because it was kinda decent but for Yoomi? It’s the end of her world. 

Yoomi was crying her heart out, sharing that she tried telling the professor that it’ll ruin her goal of achieving summa cum laude this graduation but failed to appease his empathy. You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes because of her words. Your roommate, Yunjin noticed it and could only laugh lightly because you didn’t hide the disgusted look on your face. 

“She deserves it,” you commented while you and Yunjin were on your way back to your dorm. 

“I get you,” Yunjin sympathized. “I really don’t get why everyone likes her. She thinks she’s smart and quirky but the truth is, she’s cringey and pathetic.”

“People are stupid, and are on the same level as Yoomi,” you let out a sigh, trying to erase Yoomi out of your head. 

You and Yoomi instantly clicked on the first day of your freshman year. Both coming from a different town, you two found solace with each other. You two shared the same likes and dislikes, fangirled over anime and would send edit videos on tiktok.

Yoomi was talkative and friendly. Soon, your duo became a friend group who studied together and ranted over crazy tasks and strict professors. Your friend group made you adjust well during freshman year and you were happy that you found a safe space while being away from your family. 

College also became a place for you to try dating, and maybe, find a decent guy that you’ll commit a serious relationship with. During your freshman year, you matched with Yeonjun on a dating app and after a few dates, you two became official. 

You and Yeonjun dated throughout college. It was stable and healthy, and everyone envied your relationship. Yeonjun’s close with your friends and so are you with his friends. For Yoomi, she didn’t lose a friend even though you had a boyfriend. Hell, you were so happy that the two of them are close and bear no awkward signs. 

But that’s where you should’ve seen the signs. Yoomi has always been touchy with Yeonjun, but that’s just how she was with your other male friends. That’s why you didn’t want to put malice on Yoomi — which was your biggest mistake. 

Then came junior year. In a glimpse, Yeonjun became cold to you. Telling you that he’s busy and he couldn’t meet you. You trusted him that he’s just busy, because so were you. Junior year was hectic so you never prioritise your relationship. You were confident with your relationship with him.

So it hit you like a truck when you went to Yeonjun’s dorm to surprise him — only to see Yoomi with him. That’s when it sinked in to you all the times that both of them turn down your study dates, they’re seeing each other behind your back. 

You caught them in the act. Yoomi was on top of Yeonjun, half-naked at your sight. You didn’t miss the way Yoomi smirked, which made you leave the scene. Yeonjun attempted to go after you but you’ve made up your mind. That night, you broke up with Yeonjun and completely cut Yoomi off. 

Your group of friends heard about it, but you didn’t feel a single comfort from them. You were told that “whatever fight you and Yoomi had, they don’t want to pick a side.” and it’s obvious that they’re on Yoomi’s side.

As the days continued, you felt left out by your friend group while Yoomi became center of the attention, that is why the remaining months of your junior year, you only had your roommates by your side 

Yoomi didn’t even wait for a month to hard-launched her relationship with Yeonjun. You found it pathetic of her but you didn’t care anymore. All the tears you’ve cried turned into a loathing feeling for Yoomi, and there’s not a single day that you wish for her downfall.  

It seems like karma has been hearing your prayers. Yoomi’s scholarship is one of the reasons why she can study in a prestigious university like Decelis University, and losing it just in time for senior year can be painful. But you’re overjoyed by the news, wishing that it’ll get worse like her being unable to finish college. You couldn’t help but to lightly chuckle as you took another sip from your beer, chugging it down until its last drop. 

“Hey,” your thoughts trailed off when you picked-up a masculine voice. You turned to your right to see a guy around your age standing beside you. He’s leaning against the counter with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s hot with his slicked-back hair, wearing a cotton polo shirt tucked-in snuggly in his cotton pants — contrasting all the streetwear-dressed guys in the club. 

“Hi,” you offered a smile, mentally preparing yourself to reject him. You didn’t go to the club to be picked-up by a stranger after all. 

“You’re alone?” he asked and you only laughed. Of course. That's the first thing a guy would ask. 

“Do you see me talking to someone?” you raised an eyebrow, and that made him chuckle. 

“Well, you wouldn’t mind me accompanying you?” he offered, stretching his hand. “I’m Jay.” 

You stopped your tracks, blinking to sink in his name. Jay. That name sounds so familiar but you couldn’t point a finger about it. 

“Jay,” you breathe. “You go to Decelis University?”

He seems to be surprised by your question. “Yeah, you probably heard of Arcanum? I’m their electric guitarist.”

Fuck. You cursed internally, eyes turning wide. Park Jongseong. Jay. Studies Marketing and Advertising. Electric guitarist of Decelis University’s university band, Arcanum. 

Jay. Your ex-best friend Yoomi’s first love. They go to the same school back in her hometown. Her long-time crush who she followed to Decelis University just to have a chance with him. The guy who’s band gig she attends wherever it is. The guy who made Yoomi hyperventilate when Jay glanced at her for a split second.

And maybe the reason why you didn’t suspect Yoomi to take a liking to Yeonjun is because her goal has always been Jay. 

Jay, who seems to be Yoomi’s universe, is standing in front of you, and casually flirting with you — something that Yoomi never had the chance to do. 

It was as if karma really is doing god’s work. All of Yoomi’s desperate attempts to be noticed by Jay didn’t stand a chance the moment Jay approached you first. The bulb inside your brain suddenly lightens up and suddenly, a plan is circulating in your mind.

“So you’re the electric guitarist,” you smiled. “I admit, your solo performance during the year-end concert was hot.” 

“You think I’m hot?” he asked amusingly.

“Don’t flatter yourself Jay,” you laughed. “You’ll be much hotter if you buy me another bottle of beer though.” 

“If that’s the only thing that can continue this conversation, I’ll be happy to.”

Gotcha. You watched as Jay called out the bartender to order another bottle of beer for you. How you managed to do it so easy was probably karma’s doing and you’re thanking the heavens for siding on you. 

As the night deepens, you and Jay shared an endless conversation about you two. Jumping from one topic to another, and you didn’t miss the subtle flirty remarks he would throw at any chance he could. It didn’t even strike you that the longer your talks were, the less people had become inside the club. 

“It’s almost four,” Jay said. “I think they’re just waiting for us to leave.”

You scanned the whole club and there’s only a few people around. You only had three bottles of beer that night and it was enough for you. You don’t even feel a hint of tipsiness in your system, that’s why you glanced at Jay and smiled,

“I think that’s our cue then,” you said, grabbing your purse and fishing out your wallet when Jay had already handed over his card. 

“So, am I hotter now that I bought you a bottle of beer?” he jokes. 

“You sound like you want some affirmations from me,” you smirked. 

“I’ll be happy to hear affirmations from a pretty girl like you.”

That made you chuckle. “Sure Jay, thanks for the drinks.” you jumped out from the high stool when Jay tapped your shoulder. 

“I’m not really the type to do this but,” Jay started, and you can sense a hint of hesitation in his tone. “But do you wanna go to my place?”

You stared at him for a few seconds. “Sorry, I’m not that type of girl.”

“It’s okay, and I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” he quickly said, and you couldn’t believe what you just heard. Most guys will be persistent to take a girl home, but Jay looks away from you embarrassed. 

“I didn’t, don’t worry,” you gave him a smile. You lean towards him, tiptoe-ing to land a kiss on his cheeks. 

“Maybe take me on a date or two, then I can go to your place,” you whispered to his left ear. 

You gave him a wave before you turned around and started walking away when you heard Jay call out your name again.

“Then, when can I see you again!?” he asked. 

You turned around and only smiled at him, “you go to Decelis right? If we bumped into each other, then maybe that’s fate’s way of telling me to go on a date with you.”

You didn’t even let him say another word. You probably have left him speechless as you walked out of the club. The cold air welcomed you as you walked your way towards your car. 

As you sat in the driver’s seat, that’s when you let out a loud laugh that you’ve been holding back throughout the night. Slapping your steering wheel harshly as you laugh until the air in your lungs weakens you.

Catching your breath, you leaned against your seat as you sinked in your mind that you spent the night flirting with Jay — and if you were being petty, you would’ve accepted his invitation. 

Sure it was inviting but short. If you would’ve slept with Jay, that’s just it. You’re just the girl that banged her ex-best friend’s long-time crush and for you, it’s a bit shallow to get back to Yoomi. You wanted her to suffer. To be hurt slowly just like what she did to you. That’s why you’re curating a perfect revenge plan — get back to her by dating the guy that she could never have. 

And Park Jongseong? Well, he’s just the perfect tool for your revenge. But first, you just have to make sure that your plan is actually a sign from the gods themselves. And the only way to find out is if you ever encounter Jay again. 

-

They say that a university is big if you’re looking for someone, and small if you’re avoiding someone. 

If they ask you which one is you, neither of them. You couldn’t avoid Yoomi since she’s your classmate and you curse Decelis’ blocked section policy for letting you see her and your friend group everyday.

You’re not looking for someone too. And if that someone is named Park Jongseong, then yes, you’re definitely not looking for someone. It’s been two weeks since your encounter with Jay and you’ve given up easily. Now, you’re just praying for karma to do all the work.

It was past five in the afternoon. Your last class just ended and your roommates are waiting for you at a Pho stall outside the university for dinner. 

You walked your way towards the university’s nearest exit. The sky slowly turns into shades of purple and deep orange, the sun is about to set and you can feel the cool breeze. You hum lightly as you listen to your music on the way. 

That’s when you felt a light tap on your shoulder, startling you as you turned around and behold —

“Found you,” he teased.

It was obvious in your eyes that you were surprised to see him. Removing your earphones while processing your thoughts. 

“I guessed you’re too stunned to see me,” Jay teases again, making you snap out of your daze.

You chuckled nervously, “what? You just scared me, that’s all.” 

“Really? Well now that I finally found you, how about we talk about your promise?”

“You really searched for me, didn’t you?” you asked instead.

Jay tilts his head amusingly. “Not really, let’s just say fate is doing its work.”

Funny. You thought. It’s the same sign that you’re looking to continue your plan. You weren’t able to say another thing as Jay stood there waiting for your answer. 

And suddenly, that scene from Yeonjun’s dorm flashed in your mind. It has always been engraved in your mind how close they were. Their intimate position as Yeonjun looked at you with shock while Yoomi was glad that you caught both of them. 

Then you remember the times you accompanied Yoomi to Jay’s gig. How she would shout his name so loud that you looked away embarrassed. How she crashed out when Jay reposted her instagram story of his photo taken by her. You remembered how deep Yoomi’s love for Jay — ever since high school, Jay has always been the guy that she wanted to marry. 

You told yourself that if you ever crossed paths with Jay again, it’ll be the sign to get back to Yoomi. That this is karma’s way to tell you that you should do it instead of waiting for them. Now, Jay found you and is eager to get that date, what’s holding you back now?

It’s the last year of your college. Why not end it with pettiness and hatred? You don’t want to graduate college with pain and trauma, and surely, you don’t want to be the bigger person who’ll forgive and forget — no, you were never always the bigger person. Not when there’s nothing to forgive and forget because both Yeonjun and Yoomi weren’t sorry for their actions. 

“Like, right now?” You asked Jay. 

Jay merely shrugs, “I mean if you want to, but if you want a splendid, prepared date, we can also have that one.” 

You clicked your tongue. Pondering if this is worth ditching Yunjin and Jake. 

And it didn’t take you a minute to decide. You fished out your phone and started typing a message to your roommates. 

3rd floor besties <3

Yn: Can’t go. Jay asked me to have dinner with him. I’ll spare the details later. 

5:23 pm

Yunjin: JAY ???? THE GUY THAT Yoomi LIKES ???

5:24 pm

Jake: Guessed he found you lmao. He’s been yapping about you since that night at the club. 

5:24 pm

Yunjin: GO FOR IT GURLIE WE LOVE TO SEE IT. 

5:24 pm

You chose to not reply to your roommates and instead, placed your phone in your jeans pocket. 

“So, where should we spontaneously go for a dinner date?” You asked. 

“You sure, you don’t mind ditching your friends?” he throws back the question. 

You only shrugged, “they’ll be fine. So, where are we going?” 

“You take the pick, I’m okay with anything.”

You and Jay stumbled upon a small chinese eatery just five minutes away from the university gate. It’s a bit crowded and maybe, your pho cravings can be replaced with xiao long bao. 

As soon as the server left the table, that’s when an awkward atmosphere emitted between the two of you. You didn’t know what to say compared that night wherein alcohol took a huge part in your courage. 

“So, how have you been?” Jay started, making you glance at him.

You let out a soft chuckle. “I’m doing okay actually, how about you? You seem like you were glad to see me.” 

“I’m going to be honest but I actually am glad to see you.”

For Jay, the university was big yet small as he looked for you. 

He never felt so pathetic in his life before. One of his mistakes was not asking for your socials and damn you, for telling him that it’ll be fate for you two to meet again. He’s not even a spiritual person and whatever you said made him think if you’re interested in him or not. 

A week or two felt like a hopeless case, it wasn’t until his idiotic friend, Jake Sim only recently told him that you’re his roommate — after weeks of him venting his frustration.

“You’re down bad,” Jake jokingly said. 

“Shut up and just tell me about her college program,” Jay hastily said. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Jake said in a serious tone. “Her last relationship was fucked-up, her ex was a fucking asshole that cheated on her.” 

Jay didn’t question Jake’s protective tone. He only nods as he assures his friend that he doesn’t have any bad intentions towards you. He understands why it took Jake a while for him to say that you’re his roommates. 

That’s when he got to know you. You’re a senior like him. You study diplomatics which is on the other side of the university — far from his building. While it’s stupid for him to stand outside your department building looking like a stalker, Jay took the courage to pass by the building in hopes of bumping into you. 

And it seems like favor is on him because you two met midway that what he was supposed to plan. 

“Jake told you huh?” you laughed after hearing Jay’s story. 

“Yeah, he also told me some stuff,” Jay replied, making you stop. You glanced at him, heart beating fast. 

“About your ex, you know, he’s an asshole who doesn't deserve you.”

You only smile at him. “It’s kinda traumatic for me, what happened and — Jay, I just want to tell you that I’m not that ready to enter a serious relationship.”

“You can back out now before I use you in my plan,” was what you actually meant. 

“And I am not rushing you,” Jay answered. “Let’s just keep it casual okay? Get to know each other, and go on a few dates.”

You let out a nervous laugh, “you’re eager huh?”

“I just don’t want to lose you again,” Jay truthfully said. So casual and simply that he didn’t know it shot an arrow to your heart.

That was your sign.

“I think he likes me,” you started. After the dinner, Jay walked you to your dorm where Jake and Yunjin were waiting. You can see through the floor balcony that the two of them were waiting for you like a parent whose daughter went past her curfew.

“Likes you? Dude, he’s down bad!” Jake pointed out. “I swear, every time I was with him, he’s all frustrated because he couldn’t find you.” 

“And it took you two weeks to tell him that you’re y/n’s roommate?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it’ll pass, but two weeks and he still keeps on looking for y/n had me thinking that he’s so desperate,” Jake shrugs. 

You let out a frustrated groan, getting your roommate’s attention. 

“You guys be honest, am I petty if I want to date Jay just to get back to Yoomi?” you asked. 

The two of them only stared at you, making you let out a sigh again. 

“It’s stupid right? I shouldn’t do it —”

“No, no, if it gives you the satisfaction of getting back to Yoomi, then why not?” Yunjin answered. 

“Just make sure you don’t hurt Jay, he seems genuine about you,” Jake added. 

You only stared at them for a good minute. “This is a bad idea right?”

Both your roommates looked at each other. Yunjin signaled Jake who only groaned as he glanced back at you. He fixes his glasses like he’s sort of a scientist while he leans against the railings of the balcony. 

“Y/n, I’m telling you this as Jay’s friend. If you plan on using Jay just to get back to Yoomi, then don’t do it. Don’t involve innocent people around here — regardless how much Yoomi hurt you,” Jake explained. 

“Yeah, who knows, maybe it’ll go back to you too,” Yunjin added. 

You only nod at their words. “But Jay really likes me — but I’m not ready for a relationship. The only reason why I said yes was because I was really planning on getting back to Yoomi.”

The three of you fell into an awkward silence. Silently pondering your words, both your roommates knew how much it hurted you, and while they’re in to tolerate your pettiness, an innocent person is on the line. 

Then, Yunjin’s face lights up, snapping her fingers to get your attention. 

“Just think of it this way y/n, Jay likes you and not Yoomi. Yoomi has been obsessing with Jay for god knows how long, and you got him wrapped around your finger that easily. Just date him casually! Just show to Yoomi that you can have Jay and she can’t — and she’s dating that trash of your ex too.” Yunjin explained. 

“Yunjin’s right, and Jay told you that he’s not rushing you right? You’re not pressured to date him exclusively too. Get to know him too, who knows maybe you two end up friends instead,” Jake added. 

“Wait, that answers my worry! I can also reject Jay since he knew from the start that I am not ready for a committed relationship,” you pointed out. 

“Jay’s a nice guy y/n, he’ll understand if you reject him too,” Jake stated. 

You let out a loud sigh of relief. The plan was simple: date Jay and show Yoomi that. You didn’t need some splendid action to be the end of your revenge. It didn’t matter to you its aftermath. All you can think about is stretching it long enough to make it believable.

And probably long enough for Yoomi to confront you and shove in her face that Jay’s interested in you — not her. That’ll destroy her. 

“Just don’t overthink about it,” Yunjin stated. “I know how you tend to mix your decisions with your emotions. Always think rationally okay? Go with the flow and everything.”

You only looked at her with an assuring smile, “don’t worry, no feelings involved in this one.” 

-

You always wonder why luck is always on Yoomi’s side. 

Of course, she managed to maintain her scholarship despite not maintaining her gpa. A bit unfair but you heard that she pulled a few strings to your college dean just so she can still have her scholarship until graduation. 

Now, she’s all over her instagram story having a “story time” that’s about 20+ slides and you seriously wonder if there are people who are willing to watch those — maybe those who are interested in her life just to talk shit about her.

“Look at this,” Yunjin laughed, showing you a screenshot of Yoomi’s ig story. In the post, she shared how Yeonjun comforted her by buying her flowers from a nearby flower shop and took her to her favorite coffee shop so that the two of them could have a study date.

She shared that being able to maintain her scholarship was a gift and now, she’ll work hard to maintain her gpa. (and in case her followers don’t know, she’s running for summa cum laude.)

“Ugh, does she ever think that no one gives a fuck about her life story?” Yoomi’s an open book for everyone. She shares the most insane tmi’s on her social media which dilutes her personality. But what bothers you is that no one never dared to call her out and give her a reality check. Everyone in your department knows that you dated Yeonjun before she did, but no one…not even one, bat an eye on the situation. 

“I feel like only a few people do, but I do like scouring through her instagram story just to laugh at it,” Yunjin snickered. 

“You’re so mean,” you mocked. “How can you do that to sweet little Yoomi?”

“Shut up, you literally loathe her,” the two of you bursted into laughter as you two decided that it’s time to return to your class after staying in a cafe during lunch time. 

“By the way, when are you going to meet Jay again?” Yunjin asked. 

“This Saturday,” you answered simply. During your spontaneous date, you and Jay exchanged socials and numbers. He immediately sent you a text after he reached his place, and your conversation continued ever since. 

“What’s the plan?” Yunjin asked.

“I don’t have any,” you shrugged. “I’ll just think that we’re casually dating, and let Yoomi discover it herself.” 

“So, no soft-launches or instagram stories?”

“None for me. It’ll be obvious if I post Jay, but if Jay posts me?” you let out a small laugh. “And Yoomi sees it? Oh that’ll crash her.” 

Yunjin gasps, “god you’re so genius for that! You’re really taking this seriously aren’t you?”

And before you could answer, your eyes caught a glimpse of Yoomi and Yeonjun walking together towards the entrance of the department building. You stop as you observe how Yoomi’s talking non stop as she clings around Yeonjun’s arms.

Instead of answering Yunjin, you only gave her a glance before shifting your gaze back to the couple. You can hear Yunjin imitating a gagging sound which only makes you chuckle.

“I hope they get caught by our discipline officer,” Yunjin muttered with disgust. 

“I just hope they break up in the ugliest way possible,” you mumbled. 

-

When Saturday arrived, you managed to slip out of your bed at 10 in the morning. Groaning as you enter the kitchen where Jake is. 

“Woah, you don’t seem prepared for your date,” Jake teases. 

“Why did I agree to meet him during lunch time,” you complained, pouring yourself a glass of water. 

“It’s Jay that we’re talking about, who knows what he got under sleeves,” your roommate laughed. “Goodluck on your date, just keep it casual okay?”

“Yes dad,” you mocked.

You only ate a piece of bread with spread as your breakfast before returning to your room to prepare. Jay has sent you a message that he’ll pick you up at twelve noon. 

You fished out one of your casual clothes which is a soft cardigan and summer dress. You paired it with your mary jane doll shoes and kept your hair untied and flowy. After putting on some light makeup and accessories, you went out of your room to wait for Jay. You strut down towards the living where Yunjin and Jake are watching some series. 

“Oh my god, you look so gorgeous! You really prepared yourself, didn't you?” Yunjin compliments. 

“If it wasn’t for your revenge thingy, I would assume that you’re dressing to impress Jay,” Jake comments, earning a light punch from you. 

“Shut up, if he ever posts me on his social media, I should at least prepare myself right?” you pointed out, making the two laugh. 

And before the conversation could continue, you heard the doorbell of your flat ring, which indicated that Jay’s here. 

“Wow he’s early. He’s never been early in his band practices,” Jake stated. 

“He’s excited for you!” Yunjin squealed, shaking your shoulders as she pushed you towards the entrance.

You only laugh as you stop in front of the door, glancing at your roommates who only shushes you to answer the door. 

Jay stood there in his glory, and like the first time you two met — he’s rocking his signature polo shirt but this time, it’s a loose and button-down, paired with formal slacks. He styled his hair in a boyish look which complimented him more. 

“Hi,” he greets you with a smile, and before you could say anything, he pulls something from his back. “Flowers?”

You could only smile as you grabbed the bouquet from him. “Lilies! How did you —”

“Thank me later!” Jake interrupted, which made you realise that your two roommates have been watching the scene. 

“Right —” you only chuckled, “Jay, my roommates Yunjin and Jake, you probably know them.”

“Hi!” Yunjin greets lightly. 

“I hope we get some leftovers from your date,” Jake casually said. 

You only laughed at their comments before glancing at Jay. “should we get going?”

“I’ll bring back y/n later at night,” Jay excused, grabbing your hand before waving goodbye to the two. 

“Enjoy your date!” Yunjin giggled. 

“Our leftovers, don’t forget!” Jake repeated. 

You and Jay were laughing on the way down and towards his car. 

“Remind me to buy Jake some food okay?” Jay jokes as he turns on the engine of his car, driving away from your dorm in a slow manner. 

“You really owe him big time huh?” you teased, glancing at the bouquet that he gave you. You always love lilies. The arrangement was gorgeous with small daisies and baby breaths wrapped around a delicate white and baby pink wrapper. 

“Without him, I wouldn’t be able to know more about you,” Jay explained, eyes still focused on the road. “That idiot took his time to tell me that you’re his roommate.”

You only laughed, “small world right?”

“Right.”

After an hour of driving, you catched a glimpse of the place that Jay bought you. You only glanced at him who’s smiling as he turned the car towards the entrance. 

“An oceanarium, what an interesting choice,” you teased, but there’s a huge smile on your face. 

“You like it?” he asked. 

You hummed for a minute, “Jake told you that I like the ocean?”

“You do?” Jay laughs, “no, this is just a coincidence but glad to know that I brought you to the right place.”

The oceanarium was crowded when you two went to the entrance. It took you a half an hour waiting time for the two of you to enter. 

Displays of aquariums welcomed you two. Your mouth gasping at the glass ceiling where marine creatures swam freely around the space. You were too immersed with the view that you had forgotten Jay who’s walking behind you. Smiling as he watches you be in awe at the place. 

He lets you walk around the area, following you wherever you want. You didn’t even notice how every time you’re standing in daze in front of an aquarium, Jay fishes out his phone to take a photo of you. His smile never left as he placed his phone back in his pocket. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a marine biologist,” you started, staring at the stingray passing by. 

Jay leans towards the aquarium, scanning the whole place. “Really? That’s a bit far from your program.”

“Decelis doesn’t offer that marine biology,” you only smiled. “But I’m content with my program.” 

Jay only chuckled. The two of you stood there, trying to be immersed with the place. The blue waters painting you two in that hue as the faint background of the ocean waves played on the speaker. 

“Wow,” you mumbled, catching a glimpse of a school of angelfish passing by. 

Jay on the other hand, couldn’t help but to keep on glancing at you. Smiling like an idiot because he chose the right place to take you. His eyes darted on your hand freely hanging. For a second Jay pondered, but his courage won over him. 

You were a bit startled when you felt Jay’s fingers brushing against yours, and in a split second, his hands slipped onto yours, intertwining with your fingers. You glanced at Jay and he only gave you a smile, tugging your heart in a light manner. 

“Should we go to the next area?”

The two of you walked together towards the next area, a dimmed room filled with small exhibitions of marine creatures that can be found in the deeper part of the ocean. Jay can hear your soft gasps and astonishment as your head scans every display. You two walked further until you two reached a larger area. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, quickly walking towards the huge glass that displayed a swarm of jellyfish, unknowingly you let go of Jay’s hand. You stood there, hands clasping on the glass as you watched them glow brightly under the dark blue waters, igniting a white light as it swims freely around the area. 

Jay remained standing from where he was standing, snapping another photo of you. He stared at it for a good minute, thinking how you look so beautiful despite the little light the place beams. He watched as you turned around, motioning him to come to you, which Jay only smiled as he walked towards you. 

“It’s so beautiful right?” you said, eyes never leaving the display. 

“Yeah, so beautiful” and as you looked at Jay, he was only staring at you. You can feel your face heating up, making you look away embarrassed. You can hear Jay’s soft chuckle, making you lightly punch his arms. 

“Stop that won’t you?” you muttered, embarrassed. 

“You look cute when you’re flustered,” Jay teased. 

“Shut up Jay,” you whined, walking away from the area, which only Jay followed you with a teasing smile on his face. 

After looking at every display inside the oceanarium, you two stumbled upon the souvenir shop where you found yourself staring at a small selection of keychains. 

“Found yourself something?” Jay asked, making you shift your head to him, before glancing at the keychain again. 

“Nothing, let’s go,” you said, but Jay pulls you. 

“You want the keychain? Come on, it’s cute,” Jay said, grabbing the starfish and jellyfish. 

“No, it’s okay, it’s a bit pricey too —”

“It’s on me, don’t worry,” Jay assured, and before you could even rebut, Jay had made his way towards the counter, fishing out his wallet and paying the keychains with ease. 

“Here,” Jay hands you the jellyfish keychain, smiling at you as he waved the plastic bag with the other keychain inside. 

“So that we can match,” he pointed out, and that only made you laugh. 

“Fine, if you insist,” but nonchalantly said, but deep inside you can feel your heart beating fast. 

You and Jay had a late lunch at a local restaurant near the oceanarium, enjoying a hearty meal with a side of takeout for your two hungry roommates. You two shared a few conversations and you’ve learned more about Jay — shifting the conversation to Yoomi. 

“I do know her, she was a schoolmate of mine, I was surprised that she studies in Decelis,” Jay laughs. “Why? What’s with Yoomi?”

You only bite your lips, suppressing a bitter laugh, “she used to be a friend of mine but she stole my boyfriend and yeah,” shrugging it off as you focus your attention on your meal.

“Wait, your ex-boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend?” Jay asked, appalled. 

You shrugged once again, “guess it was like that, I didn’t ask for an explanation because damn, what for right?” 

“Wow,” Jay said, shocked. He leaned against his seat as he tried to sink everything. “Damn, they’re a bunch of assholes.”

“I know but let’s just change the topic before I lose my appetite here,” you jokingly said. 

“I can’t believe it,” Jay leans against his chair. “I mean this is just an impression but I never thought Yoomi would do that.”

That’s when you bitterly smiled, “I thought so too.” you said with disappointment. 

Thankfully, Jay didn’t push further. He darted his attention to his meal instead, having you two eat in silence. You knew that bringing up your past may be an awkward thing to do during dates but the least you can do is give Jay a hint about your past relationship. 

The drive on the way back was quiet, yet comfortable. You could only listen to the music playing on the car’s stereo, a collection of old love songs that Jay had played from his phone. It was a random choice but it completely suited the vibe of the evening. You watched from the window the busy streets of the city. People walking down the streets, the opened establishments of local stores and their colorful signs, glistening just like the street lights. Everything just feels serene for you. 

Soon, you two reached your place. As Jay parked the car on the side, that’s when you realized that you just finished your date. 

“I had fun,” you blurted out. Removing your seatbelt before giving Jay a glance. “Thank you Jay for this day.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Jay said, and the next thing you knew, his hands brushed the stray hairs that covered your face, you were a bit startled but didn’t move. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and you could only blink, trying to sink in what he just said. 

“Of course Jay,” you smiled. 

Jay leans closer to you, making you close your eyes as you feel his soft lips crashing onto yours. It felt surreal for you, but your lips moved on its own as you kissed Jay back. It was soft and gentle, as if he was careful of hurting you. You can feel it that way when his hands never left your face, thumb caressing your cheeks as the kiss continued. 

And what felt like an hour broke down the minute you broke from the kiss. Catching your breath as you looked at Jay who had a soft smile on his lips. 

“Goodnight y/n,” he said, placing another kiss on your lips. “See you again?”

With that, you lightfully kissed him in the lips again. “Of course, goodnight Jay.”

And just like that, you returned to your apartment with a smile on your lips. More determined to continue your plan on getting back to your ex-best friend. 

-

Monday arrived and Yoomi cornered you in the hallway. 

“You went out on a date with Jay,” she said to you, looking more betrayed than ever. 

“How did you know?” you asked instead, knowing that Jay didn’t post you in his social media. 

“Hana saw you. Jay walked you to your apartment with a bouquet,” she added. Right. You thought. You almost forgot you have a former friend who lives nearby your dorm. 

“It’s just a date,” you shrugged casually, knowing that Yoomi doesn’t take a ‘date with Jay’ lightly. She’ll sell her soul just to have a date with Jay. 

“You knew I liked Jay from the start,” Yoomi gritted her teeth. “Have you ever heard of girl’s code?”

That’s when a mocking laughter escaped your lips, “funny that you said that, ever heard of it when you went behind my back and stole Yeonjun?”

“Yeonjun approached me first,” she explained, her tone becoming soft like she was asking for your sympathy. “And I know that it was mistake but for the first time, someone noticed me and I couldn’t help it —”

“Even if it was your best friend’s boyfriend?” 

“You were too good for Yeonjun anyway! You never prioritise your relationship with him and become too focused on your academics.” she immediately rebutted, tone shifting into  a defensive one. 

Her words made you let out a chuckle. Her reason made no sense for you, and it just fueled your anger at her. It didn’t make any sense that your academics will be the reason for you to be cheated — Yeonjun knew that from the start, it has always been your priority. You two always had study dates, and sometimes Yoomi would even join you too. So it didn’t made sense for you why that’s the reason for your life to get fucked. 

You couldn’t believe that after a year of cutting her off, this is the first time you’ll confront her. So much for a Monday morning for you. You always convince yourself that there’s no need to hear her side, but there’s a small itch inside you that wants to know — in hopes that maybe it can heal a bit of the huge damage that scarred you. 

“Is that so?” you raised an eyebrow. “Well, for your information, Jay approached me first, and for the first time ever since Yeonjun and I broke up, someone noticed me. So I guess we’re even.” 

You can see in her eyes that she was surprised. Her eyes started to water as if she was stabbed in her heart with a long dagger. And as you stare at her with a bored look, a bitter smile forms on your lips. “Why are you so bothered that I am seeing Jay? You have Yeonjun already, right?”

Yoomi didn’t say anything. She stood there frozen as you lazily shrugged your shoulders. “Yoomi, Jay was never yours in the first place right? So there’s nothing wrong with me dating him,” you explained. “And there’s no girl’s code here, because we’re not friends anymore either.”

You gave her a genuine smile before you left her there standing. You walked your way towards your classroom when you felt your phone vibrating. Grabbing it, you smiled as you received a text from Jay. Talking about good timing, he asked you to hangout with him after school. 

“Of course,” you mumbled as you sent your reply to him. 

You felt satisfied with the confrontation. Now that Yoomi knows that you’re dating Jay, you wanted to crush her even more. More dates, more show-off. And who knows, maybe you’ll get to sleep with Jay too. That’s not part of your plan but you know that it’ll leave Yoomi into insanity. 

The day moved at a fast pace, the next thing you knew, your prof dismissed the class with a few reminders. As you pack your things, Yunjin eyes on you teasingly. 

“You’re going to ditch us again huh? Is this what having a love life feels like!?” Unlike you, Yunjin likes throwing remarks, and she made sure her voice is loud enough for Yoomi to turn her head towards your direction. 

“It’s nothing, he just asked me if we can hangout later,” you casually said. 

“You’re so shameless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes making you laugh.

You can feel Yoomi’s eyes never leaving yours, and you faintly smirked as you and Yunjin exit the classroom. 

Outside the department, Jay was waiting near the benches. As soon as he saw you, Jay smiled as he approached you and Yunjin. You can feel the stares darting towards you and Jay, that’s when you remember that Jay’s kinda famous around the campus because of Arcanum. You didn’t like the attention, but knowing that any minute, Yoomi will exit the building, you let it be. 

“Hi,” Jay greets, smiling at you two. “Hi Yunjin.”

“Thanks for the leftovers by the way, hopefully we can have some again tonight,” Yunjin teased, making you elbow your friend. 

“Ignore her,” you laughed. “Let’s go?”

You and Jay began walking towards the parking lot. This isn’t the first time you and Jay had walked together inside the campus, but this is like your ‘soft-launch’ with your relationship with him, given that he was carrying your tote bag throughout the whole time. 

And if that doesn’t give you satisfaction, Yunjin sent you a message saying that Yoomi saw you and Jay leave together, making you smile as you put down your phone in your pocket. 

“You’re smiling,” Jay pointed out.

You only hum lightly, grabbing Jay’s hands and intertwining it with yours. You felt the way Jay was surprised by your actions, but let it be, his smile turning wider. 

“Just in a happy mood,” you explained. “So, where are we going?”

You found yourself in a familiar place — The Rabbit Hole, which is a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge. It’s Arcanum’s usual spot for their gig. You’re so familiar with the place that you know that their gig starts at seven in the evening. And by seven, the place will be crowded with their fans and students, it’ll be loud, a bit chaotic but it’s a good chaos.

It made you wonder if Yoomi’s going to show up to support Jay since she never missed Arcanum’s gig. You sat by a corner table, your tote bag placed on top as you scan the menu. 

“Hi! You’re here again!” The Rabbit Hole is under Decelis University’s funding, and often one of their students would work there as part-timers. One of them being Kim Sunoo, who’s smile never fades especially when it’s a full house. 

“Hi Sunoo! I miss you,” you smiled, giving the junior a hug. “How’s work here?”

“All the same, but it was nice seeing you again! You’re my favorite customer, you know?” he complimented. 

“Thanks Sunoo, I’ll have the usual, you still remember it right?” you said. 

“Of course, orange flower cocktail and wedged fries. Just sit back and relax, because it seems like Arcanum has a special performance tonight,” the younger winks at you before leaving towards the kitchen. His words leave you wondering as you watch Arcanum set up. 

It didn’t take a while for the place to be filled with people. You can see your fellow schoolmates still in their department uniform, not even bother changing clothes. Locals and supporters also filled the area. It had become so busy that Sunoo moved you to the bar counter in which you were accompanied by their new part-timer named Riki. 

You only munched on your fries as you scanned the whole place, and near the stage you saw Yoomi, along with some of your former friends, talking as they waited for Arcanum’s performance. You watched as they laughed and cheered their colorful cocktails while you sat on the corner, eating your soggy fries and drinking your melted drink. 

You can feel a tug on your heart, watching how they had fun especially when you used to have a place there. You never felt more lonely by the counter, wishing that you brought your roommates along with you. 

A static sound interrupted your thoughts, shifting your attention to the stage where Arcanum’s main vocalist and bassist, Lee Heeseung taps the mic. He waves to the crowd and smiles, earning a few screams from their fans. 

“Are you guys ready to have fun!?” he shouted, and the crowd shouted “yes!” in response. You can see the smirk from the oldest as he glances at his bandmates. Your eyes darted on Jay who changed his uniform to a casual streetwear outfit — far different from his usual looks but he looks good. 

“I think the energy is still low hyung,” Jungwon, who’s on the drums, teases. Earning a few uproar from the crowd, which made the band laugh.

“Let me ask one more time, are you guys ready to have fun!?” This time, the crowd became louder, enough for you to be startled. You hear Heeseung laugh as he counts down from three and with that, they begin playing their song. 

From the many times you attended their gig, this is the first time you decided to watch their performance. Eyes locked on the stage as Heeseung began singing, making you realise that there’s a reason why they’re popular despite being a university band. 

The crowd was singing along, making you an odd one out who’s only nodding her head along the beat. Your eyes darted on Jay, you watched as he passionately played the instrument. He was feeling it like he was a rockstar

Damn. You couldn’t help but to lock your eyes on him. He was absolutely heaven to stare at, and it only took you this time to realise why girls like Yoomi go crazy over him. It didn’t sink into you that you’ve been staring for too long that when Jay glanced at you, you were surprised. But you saw how Jay smiled before winking at you. You can feel your cheeks heating up, unknown how Jay had this effect on you. 

Arcanum performed five songs, with a few pause for the band’s introduction and their self-composed songs. They were fun to watch. They interacted with the crowd and moreover, made them laugh too. 

“But before we move on to our next song, we have a surprise for you guys,” Heeseung started. His eyes darted on Jay, earning a few teases from Jungwon and Sunghoon.

“This is a rare occasion, so you guys are lucky to witness this one,” Sunghoon added. 

“Right! We practiced hard for this one,” Jungwon added

You were too focused with their ment that you didn’t felt Sunoo’s nudge until he did it again, you only glanced at the younger who gave you a meaningful smile. 

“Okay, we don’t want to wait for too long right? Jay, the floor is yours,” Heeseung exchanges his place with Jay who stood in front of the mic, holding his electric guitar. A few cheers can be heard but you can hear a familiar voice that keeps on screaming “Park Jongseong!”

You shifted your attention towards Yoomi who’s hopping like a bunny, shouting Jay’s full name with her whole heart. Damn. You thought. She really is not over Jay. 

“Hi guys, I’m Jay, Arcanum’s electric guitarist,” Jay introduces. “This is kinda cringe, but when you really love someone, you just want to dedicate a few songs to her right?.”

“I don’t think I did that to my girlfriend dude,” Heeseung rebuts, making the room laugh. 

Jay only chuckles, “shut up, you wrote a song about her — but anyways, I just want to dedicate a few songs to the girl who holds a place in my heart.” With that, the crowd cooed at Jay's words. 

But you felt the world shutting down. Ears muted as you watched Jay glance from where you were sitting. You didn’t notice that you were left stunned, not until you felt Sunoo shaking your shoulder out of teasing.  

You can feel it, a few people glancing at you, your heart beating rapidly like crazy. Things didn’t sink in your mind until Jay strummed the first chords of the song. 

“I love you. But I don't really show you,” the lyrics said. You watch as Jay serenades the crowd with a song that you knew very well talks about love. You can hear the cheers, and then there’s the whispers, oblivious people wondering who the special girl was. 

Jay sang the song with much sincerity, ending it with a short guitar solo which made the crowd be in awe with his skills. Screams and shouts continued until the last chord. You couldn’t help but to applause, a smile forming on your lips as you stood up from your chair. 

“Seems like they love your voice Jay-hyung,” Jungwon complimented, making the audience laugh, chanting Jay’s name which made the boy flustered. 

“Do you guys want more?” he asked, and all he received was a loud yes from the crowd. 

“Alright, for the next one, it’s a new song we composed. It's a bit chill but I hope you guys like it,” Jay said, turning around to his bandmate who immediately got the cue. 

Sunghoon started off the song with a short intro from his keyboards. It was soft and gentle, almost like a lullaby. It wasn’t until Jungwon accompanied it with drums then came along the bass and guitar. 

It felt unreal, a song that when you first hear, you’ll feel like you’re falling in love.  You were hooked by the melody, watching as Jay glanced at you before turning his attention to the crowd. 

“X-O, X-O, kiss me, don't let go,” Jay sang, smiling ear to ear as he sang the lyrics in an upbeat manner. 

It was cute, yet short, all you can hear was Jay’s vocals, sometimes harmonizing with his bandmates. You didn’t even notice that the song had ended, if it wasn’t for the crowd’s cheering, you would have been caught in daze due to the performance. 

“So what Jay was trying to say, he deserves a kiss from his special girl,” Heeseung stated, which earned a few screams from the crowd. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Sunghoon shouted, starting the chant which was followed by the crowd. 

You only laugh as you try to sink in your seat, embarrassed. But it didn’t help that Sunoo and Riki teamed-up to pull you up from your seat, almost carrying you as the crowd’s chants got louder the moment you reached the stage. You were left with no choice but to face it especially when the two juniors pushed you specifically at Jay who managed to get a hold of you from falling. 

You can hear the crowd teasing the two of you. If it wasn’t enough, Jay’s bandmates joined the fun too, you could only hide behind Jay’s back but Heeseung managed to pull you away from Jay. 

“Nice to meet you Jay’s special girl,” Heeseung smiles and you only chuckled. Facing him since you were left with no choice but to accept the request. “You don’t mind it right? The crowd’s curious about you because this is like the first time Jay sang during a gig, so consider yourself lucky.”

Your eyes widen at Heeseung’s words, hiding your flustered feeling by letting out an awkward laugh. Your words got stuck on your throat as you only glanced at Jay who’s like a confused cat, standing in front of you. 

“You’ll be okay with it?” Jay asked you, tone hinted with worry. 

That’s when you can feel from your peripheral vision that your ex-best friend is watching every move that you’ll do. Everything’s coming into pieces for you. Although the peer pressure is there, what would be more satisfying than seeing Yoomi’s reaction especially when she just confronted you earlier this morning?

“I don’t mind,” you answered Jay, giving him a small smile before signaling him to lean closer. 

But you wanted to tease a little bit, hence, your lips landed on his cheeks which caused an uproar from the audience. They kept on chanting that you two should kiss again, but you only shook your head while Jay was speechless. 

“Okay that’s enough pda, we don’t want to get suspended by our uni alright? Y/n is still in her uniform guys,” Heeseung managed to calm down the crowd, while you and Jay remained there frozen. You can hear Jungwon and Sunghoon’s laughters from behind, before they went near the two of you, teasing Jay who could only looked away with his ears turning red. 

After that scandalous scene, Arcanum performed a few songs and covers before they finished their gig. You watched as the band members got swarmed by a few people. They attentively took their time to take photos and signed some papers for them. They weren’t just popular for their music, but they were also kind and soft-hearted. Each interaction was genuine. 

Your eyes shifted to Jay who’s busy talking to a fan when you noticed that Yoomi was approaching him. You stopped your tracks, standing up from your seat which caught Jay’s attention, making an eye contact with you, you only gave him a quick smile which made him excuse himself from the fans — not even sparing a glance at Yoomi who wasn’t able to tap his shoulders. 

“Sorry it took a bit long, we were supposed to end around nine,” he apologized as soon as he’s in front of you. It was nearing ten and the place was still crowded, with the speakers blasting a few pop songs to hype up the crowd.

“It’s okay, I enjoyed your performance,” you gave him a smile. From where you were sitting, you witnessed how Yoomi returned to her table disappointed, which made you smile even wider. 

“I’m glad you did. I was supposed to take you to dinner but it’s getting late already.” Jay sighed in relief.

“It’s okay, I did order food while watching your gig.” you insisted.

“How about this, we can have dinner some other time.” Jay suggested, making you raise an eyebrow.

“And where’s this dinner going to be held huh?”

-

How you ended up in Jay’s apartment wasn't what you expected. And yet, you’re there standing in front of his door, ringing the bell twice, and just thinking “whatever happens tonight, happens.”

It’s been a few days since the Rabbit Hole gig. Your little stunt spread throughout Decelis — which instantly concluded that you and Jay are dating, and the only small details students don’t know are whether it is exclusively or casual. Yoomi hasn't bothered you ever since, but you know that she’s been drilling holes whenever you’re near her vicinity. You know that she’s been itching to confront you again, but because of the embarrassment that she felt that night, she distanced herself for some time. 

Then you recalled that night you first met Jay, how he asked you to go to his place and you rejected him. Now, everything has come full circle because you’re about to have dinner with him in his place — that is, if dinner will actually happen. 

Jay opens the door for you, planting a kiss on your temple as you walk inside. You scanned the whole place. It was huge, clean, and a bit cozy with the jazz music playing on his vinyl record player. 

“Your place looks nice,” you complimented. 

“Thanks,” Jay muttered, walking towards the kitchen wherein you trailed to.

You watch as Jay busies himself in the kitchen. You can smell the heavenly smell of sauteed garlic and rosemary on butter, pots on the stove boiling some pasta while there’s the sizzling sound of steak on a hot pan. 

“That looks delicious,” you peeked through the stove, eyeing Jay's skillful hands as he cooked the sauce. “Is there anything that I can help?”

Jay only gave you a smile as he prepared everything with ease, “no need to worry about dinner, just go sit on the couch, you can watch some series on my tv.”

“Well, I would rather watch you cook instead,” you pursued, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“You’re just here to distract me,” Jay teased, eyes never left the stove.

“Maybe I do have plans on distracting you.”

Jay shifted his glance on you, letting out a soft chuckle as he stole another kiss on your cheeks before passing by you. He heads towards the corner where a stack of wine is placed. 

“Want some?” he raises the bottle, and you only nod, watching Jay open the bottle and pour on two glasses. He gave you the other one which you mumbled your thanks, taking a little sip on it, while Jay continued his cooking. 

“This is nice,” you hummed. “This is new.” 

“Never had homemade dinner with him?” Jay asked, and you knew who he was referring to.

You only shake your head. Memories rushing through your mind, thinking about the dates you and Yeonjun had. Some were grandeur, while some were plain. Most of the time you two would go to coffee shops and study your hearts out. It was quiet and tranquil, and productive too. 

Your mind shifted to Yoomi’s words a few days ago, how you were so focused with your academics — wondering if it was also the cause of your relationship’s downfall. That may be the reason why Yeonjun cheated you with Yoomi. 

You mindlessly took a sip on the wine as you pondered your thoughts, not noticing the way Jay kept on glancing at you. 

“Sorry I brought it up,” Jay blurted out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“It’s okay, just had a little pondering,” you smiled. 

“I don’t mind listening,” Jay said, still busying himself with his cooking. 

“I think I’m the problem,” you mumbled. “It didn’t surprise me that Yeonjun left me, I’m plain, introvert, and a bit tamed — I always prioritise my studies over anything else, and maybe Yeonjun felt like he’s not a huge part of my life that’s why he left —”

“That doesn’t excuse him cheating and Yoomi going behind your back,” Jay said. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and I admire that you have your goal set. It’s Yeonjun’s problem that he couldn’t accept that.” 

You only bitterly laugh as Jay’s words felt comforting, you can hear from his tone that he was defensive about you which you were glad that he was. 

“Let’s just forget about them alright? Tonight’s about us,” Jay insisted, and you let him be. 

Dinner felt more special especially when Jay took his time plating the dish as he served it in front of you. His smile never leaves his lips as he watches you take a bite from the steak. You could only hum as you took another bite while Jay, who’s in front of you, is waiting for your words. 

“God I should just marry you,” you blurted out. “How do you even cook so good?” 

“Just some basic skills,” Jay nonchalantly said, making you chuckle.

Dinner continued on, with Jay bringing the wine you two were drinking earlier, accompanied by a heavenly molten cake that he bought from a local pastry shop. The night became deeper as your conversation became endless as you two moved towards the kitchen where the cake and wine remained while you helped Jay with the dishes. 

The dishes were on the rack but you and Jay remained in the kitchen, conversation never fading as you two shifted from one topic to another. 

“Okay, I want you to be honest,” you laughed, a bit tipsy with the amount of wine you had drank. “Did you find it cringe when I said that fate will find a way for us to meet?”

“Cringe? No, but confused, yeah a bit,” Jay confessed. “Maybe it was a mind game of yours but I was really confused how you rely on fate —”

“So you don’t believe in fate!” you pointed out, laughter becoming loud. 

Jay became quiet for a moment, “actually, I did slowly believe in fate, you know that I was supposed to pass by your building? You know, just in case I bumped into you. But it seems like fate made it easier and I found you halfway.”

That’s when you stopped, realizing that Jay’s words had become serious.

“You really searched for me, didn’t you?” you asked with a soft tone. “You really don’t want to rely on fate, won’t you?”

“Why wait for the universe to make a move when I can do it by myself?” 

At that moment the atmosphere became heavy. Suddenly, you felt tense. 

Jay’s sharp gaze remained at you, observing you in every possible way and he couldn’t help but to curse under his breath. Your eyes that were staring at him were so innocent that he wondered where’s the girl who made him chase the game. 

His hand slowly trailed to your cheeks, he watched whether you'd flinch or not – but you stood there, eyes never leaving his. 

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes. “And I won’t do it.”

Your heart skips a beat hearing those words. Your mind started to be clouded by thoughts. This is it. You thought. Doing the worst thing that will crash your ex-best friend’s heart. 

How good will it feel to finally get back to Yoomi? It was the first thing that you thought as you pulled Jay for a kiss, an action so brass but you didn’t care. You’ve waited long for this. 

Jay responded to your kiss softly. Savoring your lips, as he tastes the lingering chocolate you two had earlier. He gently grabbed you on your waist as he pushed you lightly against the counter, closing the proximity between the two of you. This is way different from the first time you two kissed, something about it felt intense, as if you two are dying to taste each other. 

The kiss broke in just a few seconds, you were catching your breath as Jay trailed his lips from your mouth down to your jawline. Peppering soft kisses which left you even more breathless. You can feel his hands playing around the hem of your blouse. Slipping underneath as you felt his hot hands carefully climbing upwards your chest. 

“Jay —” you called out but you couldn’t even bother to finish your sentence. 

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” he assured between his kisses. 

“I don’t think we should do it here,” you managed to finish your sentence making Jay stop. 

He looked at you with wide eyes, and you felt nervous, wondering if you ruined the atmosphere. But Jay only chuckles as he sealed your lips with his. “If that’s what my girl wants.” 

He pulled you out of the kitchen and rushed towards his bedroom. As you two reach the entrance, he opens the door and gestures for you to come inside like some gentleman he is. You only laughed as you walked past through him, but you shortly let out a yelp as he smacked your ass in the process.

You hear Jay chuckle as he closes and locks the bedroom door. 

“Not funny,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. 

“Aw, come here pretty girl,” he grabs your face and kisses you once again. 

You didn’t hold back either. You kissed him back with much intensity. Wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, the same way he grabs you by your waist. 

Jay shifted for a second to pull off his top and your eyes went wide by his action. You always knew that Jay’s physique was good, you can see it from his fitted polo shirts and tank tops, but god, seeing it up close just brought heaven to you. 

Your eyes wandered to his chest down to his abs which you unconsciously trailed with your fingers. God he’s so fucking hot. Despite the room being dim-lighted, you can still see how good his body was. You couldn’t help but to bite your lips as your touch lingered to his body. 

“Eyes up here,” Jay calls out, and as you glance at him once again, he traps you with his kiss. 

You two continued to make out, lips never leaving each other as you started to unbutton your blouse. Discarding it somewhere in the room before you placed your arms around Jay once again. As you two found the edge of his bed, Jay pulled you towards him, forcing you to sit on his lap as you two didn’t stop. 

Jay trailed his lips down to your neck, making you whimper lightly. He bites down at any bare skin, sucking and licking it that you’re sure he was leaving hickeys on it. You let him be, imagining how scandalous it will be for you to show up in class with your neck full of marks. 

You could only moan in pleasure as you let Jay continue abusing your neck. That’s when you focused on your pleasure, finding Jay’s hard on nearby your clothed cunt. You start grinding on it, trying to find friction despite the layers covered. 

“You’re eager for me, pretty girl?” he whispered huskily. You didn’t say a word, you continued grinding on him when you felt his hands on your waist. 

“Couldn’t even say a word huh?” That's when Jay’s hands shifted on your bra, removing its clasp and exposing your bare chest in front of him.

Jay didn’t waste any time, he grabs you by your waist and places you down on his bed. He traps you in between his legs, hovering over you as he stares at you lovingly. 

Something in your mind stroked you. The thought that Jay — Yoomi’s first love — is on top of you, looking at you like you’re his everything. It fueled a fire in you, you feel your pride swelling as you lightly cup his cheeks once again. That’s when it hit you — everything is real. 

“You’re nervous?” he asked,  holding your hands that were cupping his cheeks.

You shake your head as an answer. You watched as Jay removed your hands and kissed it with much tenderness. Your heart started to beat fast. The room’s temperature started to rise, but you were left there speechless as Jay leaned on to you to kiss you on the lips. 

“I’ll take care of you, don't worry,” he whispered as if it’s your first time. 

It’s actually your first time after your break-up. You lost trust in romance and intimacy after what happened. And you never thought that you'd go this far. Will it be worth letting yourself bare in front of a man? You pondered whether if it wasn’t getting back to Yoomi, would you still have sex with Jay?

You snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Jay’s touch lingered on your breast. He cups it without any hesitation, playing your nipples as he pinches your left one, making you moan. 

“Let out those sounds baby,” he said. “I need to hear you.”

Jay latches on your right nipple, sucking it harshly as you whimper under his touch. He continued to take his time playing with your breast which only leaves you breathless yet wanting more. He took things slowly but you couldn’t avoid the aching feeling between your thighs. You tried to buck your hips upward, trying to find friction on his body.

“Jay —” you called out before a sharp moan escaped your lips. Jay continued sucking your breast with hunger as his hands pinned you down from moving. 

“Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” That's when Jay unbuttons your pants, pulling it downward and leaving you in your underwear. You unconsciously close your legs, embarrassed as you feel bare in front of Jay. But you were surprised when Jay pulled you closer to him, hands gripping on your thighs as he pushed your legs wider. 

“Don’t be shy now, come on, let me make you feel good.” 

Jay said it so gently like he whispered a spell on you, you slowly spread your legs wider. Giving him access to your clothed pussy. Your breath hitches as his fingers feathered around the wet patch of your panties. Pressing his fingers to it, making you whimper. 

“You’re already wet for me? We barely even started,” he teased. 

“Jay — please,” you pleaded. “Please, let me feel you inside me.” 

As much as Jay wanted to, he wanted to savor you first. His fingers snapped through the waistband, glancing at you as if he was asking for your permission. You only nod, feeling dazed already as Jay removes your underwear, eyes locked at your dripping cunt. 

You let out a small whimper as you felt his fingers trailing through your pussy lips, gathering your wetness as he gazed at it hungrily. And it didn’t take you a second to process that he swipes his tongue on his fingers.

“Taste fucking good,” Jay cursed. “Can I?”

You mindlessly nod, and with that, Jay dives down to your warm core.

You let out a small mewl as you felt Jay’s tongue swiping through your core. Lapping at its lips like he was starving for it. Jay’s tongue harshly tasted every inch of your pussy that you couldn’t do anything but to writhe under his mouth. His hands gripped on your thighs tightly, holding you from moving as he continued to taste you. 

“You’re so sweet for me,” Jay whispered. You could only moan in pleasure as he latches onto your pussy once again, feeling his tongue inside you as his nose brushes lightly against your clit. You couldn’t help but to grab Jay’s hair, grinding against his face as you moan his name. 

That’s when you feel it. The coil inside your stomach tightening, a raspy groan escaping your lips as your hold on Jay’s hair tightens.

“J-jay, I’m gonna —” you couldn’t even finish your sentence. Too lost in pleasure as Jay’s tongue continued to abuse your insides. 

“Gonna cum for me baby?” Jay mumbled, kissing your clit as he swipes his tongue through your core. “Come on, cum.”

That’s when you felt something snapped. Jay devours you as a muted moan leaves your mouth. You can feel the tears rolling down, too lost in pleasure as Jay eats you out to your orgasm. 

Your legs were shaking from the aftermath. Eyes drowsy as you felt yourself tired from the feeling. It didn’t register that Jay had crawled over you, kissing you on the lips which you could only whimper back. You can taste yourself as you kiss him back, his hands cupping your cheeks lightly as your lips find each other. 

“My girl did so good,” Jay whispered to you, kissing you on your cheeks as he lightly chuckled.

That’s when you felt the courage. Hands trailing on his stomach downwards where his obvious boner was. You lightly palmed his bulge, which earned a groan from Jay. 

“My turn,” you told him, and before you could move, Jay stopped you. 

“You don’t need to,” he said. “Tonight is all about you.” 

“Then, let me ride you Jay,” you proposed instead. 

“If that’s what you want baby,” Jay kisses you before pulling you out of the bed. 

You two switched positions, Jay settled on his back as he watched you tug his sweatpants, glancing at him before pulling it downwards along with his boxer. 

Jay’s cock springs upwards, hard and girthy. Beads of pre-cum leaking from its tip. You curse under your breath as you wrap your hands around it, stroking it lightly, making Jay’s breathing uneven. 

It was stupid of yours to compare Jay’s dick from Yeonjun’s as you continue to stroke it. Sure, your ex’ dick was big but he was a bigger dick. And the only thing in your mind right now is that you’ll get to feel Jay’s cock inside you — and your bitch of an ex-best friend couldn’t. Yoomi can enjoy Yeonjun’s dick as much as she wants. While you? You’re going to ride Jay’s cock like there’s no tomorrow.

That’s why you hastily placed yourself on top of Jay, your pussy just enough to feather against Jay’s cock. You decided to test the waters, grinding your pussy against his cock,  a whimper escaping your lips along with Jay’s harsh moans. You continuously moved your hips in a slow motion, creating a heavy tension between you and Jay. 

You can feel his hands finding its way to your waist. You glanced at Jay who only bit his lips — you knew, he was controlling himself. That’s when you grabbed his cock, eyes never leaving Jay who watched you lustfully. You lifted your hips, aligning his cock on your entrance. Slowly, you sink into his dick, a choked moan leaving your lips as you can feel yourself full with his dick barely halfway inside. 

As if you needed some help, Jay thrust his hips upwards, making you moan as his cock slid inside you with ease. You hold onto his stomach as you try to support from the sensation. 

“So — full,” you choked as you grind against his cock, taking time to adjust to its size.

“You’re taking me so well, pretty girl,” Jay mumbled, slapping your ass which made you flinch. “Too big for your tight pussy? Can you even take it?”

You only glared at Jay as he lazily smirks at you. That’s when you started to buck your hips. Slowly you rise your hips enough for his tip to remain inside you. You slammed yourself down, making you whimper in pleasure. You continued to ride Jay, bouncing on his cock at a pace that leaves you full as his tip continued to slide your insides, stabbing your cervix that had you choking on your breath. 

“You look so beautiful from here,” Jay stated in between his moans. You can feel his hips bucking upwards, finding his own pleasure as you two meet halfway. Jay’s right hand grips on your waist to support you while his left hand trailed upwards to play with your breast, pinching your left nipple that had you arching your back. Head rolling as you fasten your pace.

And as you looked down at him, you saw Jay’s fucked-out expression. The way his hands grip tightly on your waist, his stomach stiffening as he breathy moans escape his lips. You loved the way his brows furrowed in aggression, you can feel his dick twitching inside you as you continued to ride him. 

“And you look so gorgeous from up here,” you teased, leaning towards him to plant a kiss on forehead. You lightly chuckled as Jay's expression never faltered, and if it wasn’t enough for you, you shifted to grind on his dick instead, leaving him grunting and gasping for more. 

Your hands found its way to his cheeks, lightly cupping it as you placed soft kisses all over his face — except his lips. 

“You’re — a fucking m-menace,” Jay said between his groans, making you chuckle.

He’s right. You're a menace. Because as you grind your hips to find more pleasure, all you can think about is how fucked-out Jay was, and it’s because of you. God knows what will happen if Yoomi finds out about this. 

And that’s what you wanted to happen. To show to Yoomi that you had Jay under you, writhing and gasping submissively as you continue to abuse his dick. Sex has always been an intimate moment for you, but now, all you can think about is how good your ex-best friend’s first love’s cock is. Have you known that his dick was this good, you would have agreed the first time he asked you out. 

You started bouncing once again, making Jay roll his head deep on the pillows. A loud moan leaves his lips which make you smile beneath him. That’s when you started attacking his neck, licking and biting on every spot your tongue latches to. 

But it didn’t take long for the pleasure to reach you. You let out a choked moan as you can feel your walls tightening. The feeling of your stomach coiling as your second orgasm is coming, your pace becomes sloppy but you continue to bounce on his dick, trying to chase your orgasm before your stamina fails you. 

“Need some help, pretty girl?” Jay asked, now both of his hands are on your waist as he continuously bucked his hips upwards.

But that only fueled your pride, you rested your hands on his chest, pushing him down further the mattress as you rode his cock faster. The room becomes more hot, only your soft moans and bodies slapping onto each other can be heard.

Jay continued to thrust upwards, his hands tightening as he can feel his dick twitching inside you — indicating that he’s near too. 

“So c-close, baby —” Jay chokes, eyes shut down but he never stops thrusting inside you. 

“M-me too,” you barely said. Your legs are about to give up, but Jay’s thrust had you put his dick in the perfect angle — just right on your spot. 

And as he abused your insides, you let out a choked moan, grasping on Jay’s stomach for support. 

“Jay —”

“I got you pretty girl,” Jay’s thrust became harsher, faster than before. 

Your second orgasm came inside you like a wave. You can feel your legs twitching as Jay fucked you through it. Your pussy tightening around his dick, sucking it so harshly that his thrust became sloppy. 

“T-too much —” you whispered, falling on his chest as tears started to fall. Your second orgasm hasn’t come down but Jay continued to thrust his dick inside you. 

“Hold it in pretty girl won’t you?” Jay mumbled, kissing you as he continued to thrust inside you.

Jay’s breathing becomes unstable as he continues to pound inside you. You could only hold on his shoulder as you cry through the overstimulation. Everything about you felt more sensitive, especially when Jay’s dick continued to hit your spot. 

And with one harsh thrust, Jay came inside you. You let out a moan as you feel his seeds spilling inside you. Jay sloppily thrusts inside, chasing after his orgasm as he paints your walls white.

The room became silent. Only harsh breathing can be heard. That’s when you felt Jay kissing your head as he lightly brushes your hair. His hands never left your waist but instead, he wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you even more closer — not minding that you two are sticky and sweaty. 

You two remained in that position, he’s still inside you and you snuggly let it be. Feeling his warm cock inside you made you feel full and maybe — you’re just too tired to care about anything.

“We should clean up,” Jay was the first to break the silence. You lifted your head and glanced at him amusingly. Jay only smiles as he kisses your lips. 

“But I’m comfortable here,” you pouted. 

“As much as I am too, we need to clean you up especially that I came inside you,” he explained. 

“I’m on a pill Jay, don’t worry,” you mumbled. 

“Just stay here pretty girl,” he places you down on the bed, pulling out from you which makes you whimper from the loss.

Jay lightly chuckles as he leaves you alone to go to his bathroom.

As you lay on his bed, you couldn’t help but to think about what just happened. Your eyes never left the ceiling as the silence devoured you. 

You suddenly felt dirty, and it’s not because you can Jay’s cum spilling out of you. It disgusted you that you had sex with someone, and while you were comfortable with Jay, it just sank into your mind that you. Just. Had. Sex. — something that you had been avoiding ever since your breakup. 

You know that you weren’t ready, some wounds about intimacy still lingers inside you. But you did it, and you did it out of spite and pettiness. Which is far from the sex that you always yearn for. 

You pulled yourself up, sitting on the bed as your hands trailed on your naked body. Feeling every inch that Jay saw underneath his dim room. You were shaken by the thought that you didn’t notice that Jay had returned. 

Jay turns on the lampshade, but it was enough for him to see the panicked expression of yours. Hurriedly, he approaches you, sinking on the bed as he stares at you. 

“You’re crying,” Jay tried to swipe off the tears but you flinched, making him withdraw. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling like an idiot as you aggressively wiped the tears aways. “I didn’t — I don’t know what got in me.” 

“Did I hurt you? Oh my god, I’m sorry if I was being too rough —”

“No! No you didn’t,” you assured, grabbing his hands and squeezing it lightly. You let out a deep sigh before giving him a smile. “You were gentle to me Jay. it’s just — It’s just I had a hard time accepting intimacy from others and I was just shocked that we had sex.” 

“Is it because of your ex?” he asked softly. 

You only nod, “yeah, I just lost trust in romance and intimacy but here I am.” 

Jay became quiet for a minute. Heart beating with guilt as he looks at you with a worried expression. You only chuckle lightly as you squeezed his hands again. 

“I enjoyed the sex Jay, I was just overwhelmed suddenly,” you assured once again. “If it makes you feel better, because of you, I am slowly starting to trust romance once again.” 

“I’m glad that I can make you feel safe again,” Jay said with a genuine tone. He leans to give you a quick kiss on your lips. “Come on now, let me take care of you.”

After cleaning your body and changing into some new clothes, you and Jay snuggled underneath the new sheets he put on. His arms wrapped around your body while you lean against his chest.

You two remained in that position. You can feel nothing but his heart beating at a rapid speed, making you smile a bit. Jay’s hands brushing your hair as if he was lulling you to sleep. 

“Y/n,” he called out, you only hummed in response. 

“I like you…like genuinely,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to his touch. “I just want to say that because I’m afraid that you think that I took you out on multiple dates just to have sex with you.” 

You didn’t say a word, you remained frozen as Jay continued brushing your hair. 

“I didn’t even plan this, I just want to cook you dinner,” Jay lightly chuckles. “You don’t have to say anything though. I know that you’re not ready for a serious relationship, but I’m content with what we have.” 

And with that, Jay kisses the top of your head.

“Goodnight y/n.”

The room became silent. You had assumed Jay had drifted to sleep while you remained there, eyes wide with heart beating at an abnormal pace. Jay’s words had pierced through your heart and it left you confused, wondering where your stand is now. 

It was clear that you still have issues about your past. But with how quick you were to open to Jay, you’re now thinking if some of your actions were genuine and not just because you did it out of spite and revenge. 

But you weren’t able to draw your conclusion that night. Minutes into your pondering, your eyes became heavy — drifting you to sleep. 

-

Your relationship with Jay has become a newsworthy gossip that students can talk about aside from their studies. So what happens when the two of you attend the Decelis a few days later with hickeys and bite marks all over your necks? It added fuel to the fire of course.

“I thought it’s not obvious, I worked hard to cover it this morning,” you complained. 

“It’s a bit visible but what surprised you is Jay, he is wearing it like a badge of honor,” Yunjin shared and you could only let out a sigh. 

You should be proud about it. You shouldn’t have covered it with makeup because you wanted to show Yoomi that you had sex with Jay. Jay’s shameless about sleeping with you, and you should be happy because it’ll just irritate Yoomi more, but you only felt nothing but a gut-wrenching feeling about it.

Perhaps Jay’s words still linger in your mind. The next morning, Jay acted like nothing happened, he even cooked you breakfast. Of course, there were subtle changes like the way Jay became more affectionate to you but it just drags you even more. 

How long can you stretch this plan of yours? Jay was serious about you, while you…you don’t even know where your stand is. You could only mindlessly brush your hair in front to hide your marks before exiting the girls’ restroom. 

As you enter your classroom, you can feel the stabbing glares from your former friends. You ignored the way they gave you a disgusted look as you sat on the last row along with Yunjin. 

Yoomi then enters the classroom, her feet stomping heavily like she wanted to have her presence known. You only lowered your head as you opened your Ipad to check any missed readings for today’s course.

You didn’t need to lift your head to know that you’re being talked to by Yoomi, the whispers were loud enough and you could hear the snarky remarks from them. Followed by a few laughter and comments of how ‘shameless’ you are to show up in class with indecent marks on your neck. 

It’s as if Yoomi didn’t do that too many times to count. But of course, that’ll never cross their mind.

Soon, the professor entered the classroom and the class fell into silence. You focused your attention on your professor’s lecture, tapping lightly on your apple pen to focus. 

All you want to do after is to rest and sleep even though it’s only a Tuesday. You feel your body weary and tired. All the energy from dating Jay had already drained out from you and you’re thinking of maybe ditching him just for a week.

You were walking like a zombie as you exited the building when Yunjin suddenly grabbed your arms harshly. 

“What —” you weren’t able to ask when your eye caught the scene. 

Yoomi’s talking to Jay. She’s saying something that you knew isn’t pleasant because of the way Jay’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Should you —” Yunjin wasn’t able to finish her sentence when you snapped your arms from her touch and approached the two. 

“Jay,” you called out, catching the attention of the two. 

“Oh there she is,” Yoomi said with a mocking tone. “I was just telling Jay about the truth.”

You furrowed your forehead. “What are you talking about?”

“That you’re dating him just to get back to me,” Yoomi said with full confidence. 

You laughed in disbelief, trying to cover your nervous heart as you watched Yoomi’s face turn confused. 

“Why would I even do that? Come on Yoomi, we’re in college, not in high school. Things like that are so immature,” you smoothly said, even shrugging to make yourself more convincing. 

“You know I like Jay! What else would you date him huh!?” Yoomi said frustratedly. You didn’t expect her to immediately be frustrated about it.

“To meet new people?” you stated with obvious. “You think I’ll just let myself be depressed after my breakup? We’re just casually seeing each other, nothing more.” 

“You think I’m stupid!? Everyone knows that you’re not even ready for a relationship, so why are you suddenly seeing Jay —”

“Just stop please,” Jay rebutted, making you glance at him. 

“I know you Yoomi, just stop with the nonsense, okay? I like y/n, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Jay explained.

You can see the way Yoomi’s smile dropped. The way Jay talked to her like she’s a lost puppy being chased away. You wanted to smile, maybe smirked at her just to get back to her but you composed yourself instead.

Jay grabs your hand and the two of you leave the scene. You turned around and eyed Yunjin who only gave you a thumbs up.

While Yoomi? She stood there shocked. 

You two reached his car. As you two went inside the vehicle that’s when your heart started to beat nervously. Jay was utterly quiet and his serious expression still hasn’t melted. You gave him a glance before you looked down.

Jay quietly turns on the engine of the car. Not one of you had spoken, and the car had been in utter silence throughout the whole drive. You didn’t notice that you reached your apartment until Jay parked the car in front of it, you remained seated in the passenger seat, waiting for his next move.  

“Tell me that it wasn’t true,” Jay spoke, breaking the ice. 

“Why didn’t you ask me that earlier?” you asked instead. 

“I don’t want to give Yoomi the satisfaction that she won,” Jay clicks his tongue. “I know that you hate her so much and maybe, what she’s saying is true.” 

You could only glance at the window. Not now. You always thought that your plan would be foolproof. Everything is so casual that Jay wouldn’t suspect a thing. That the truth won’t come out and you’ll bring it to your grave. 

Yoomi really has to ruin everything. And you don’t have the heart to lie to Jay too.

“It's true,” you confessed, sinking deeper into the leather seats. 

You can see the way Jay’s jaw slacked. His hands on the wheels tightened. “So when I approached you at the bar —”

“I recognized you, you were Yoomi’s first love, and I don’t know why I let my pettiness decide that maybe, it’s not a bad idea to date you just to shove Yoomi that she can’t have you.”

“So you use me?” Jay pointed out

“Not really,” you mumbled. “Jake told me —”

“Jake knows!?”

“And he told me to not hurt you!” you shouted. “Because you’re Jake’s friend and I don’t want to hurt you! Yes, I always thought that this was a bad idea but I just can’t sit all day seeing Yoomi happy with Yeonjun while I suffer even though they’re the ones who hurt me! That’s why I dated you because you approached me first which is something that Yoomi never experienced!”

You were catching your breath as you shut your eyes down, preventing the tears from falling down. You can feel your hands becoming cold, heart beating in a rapid manner that you don’t know if it’s the nervous breakdown or just you processing your word vomit. 

“So none of what we had was true?” you froze for a moment. Opening your eyes to look at Jay who’s staring at you. You became locked in his deep gaze as his question kept replaying in your mind — it was something that you’ve been pondering ever since you had your date with Jay. 

Were you mixing your emotions with your intention? Has there been any moment where you’re with Jay that felt real and you didn’t have Yoomi on your mind? As you kept on staring at Jay you only felt nothing but guilt for hurting him. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I don’t know Jay, we were supposed to be casual.”

“So you never had feelings for me? What happened a few nights ago, it wasn’t real?” Jay asked once again, voice cracking at the end. 

“From the start Jay, you knew that I’m not ready for a serious relationship,” you pointed out, tone becoming serious.

“You didn’t answer my question y/n, do you even like me?” 

And you didn’t leave your gaze at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate to get an answer from you. You frustratedly brushed your hair, tugging it harshly to keep you sane. 

“I’m sorry Jay, I just don’t know what love feels like anymore,” you answered honestly. “How can you think about whether I like you or not, when I hurt you?” 

“I didn’t care about that, use me whatever you want, I don’t care anymore,” Jay breathes, his tone becoming more desperate. “I don’t want to lose you again.” 

You only shake your head in disagreement. “Jay, you’re just hurting yourself even more. You can’t love someone who’s still broken from her past relationship. See how much Yoomi hurted me? You don’t know how much I was praying for her downfall and when you walked into my life — you were the answer to my prayer.” 

“That doesn’t matter, I wanted to help you if it’ll make you happy. Just let me be there for you —”

“Jay,” you gave him a bitter smile. “You deserve a girl that’s full enough to reciprocate your feelings. I can’t give you that.”

“You’re pushing me away?”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “The cat’s out of the bag isn’t it? There’s no reason for me to keep on seeing you.” 

“Please y/n —”

“I can’t continue doing this especially when you know the truth, it just hurts both of us.”

You didn’t let Jay say another word. You quickly opened the door of his car and ran towards your apartment. You didn’t even bother looking back at his car, you went straight towards the elevator, pressing the 3rd button rapidly.

As soon as you reached your apartment, door shutting down lightly, you removed your shoes and walked sheepishly towards the living room. It didn’t take you to reach the couch for you to break down. Knees weakening as you let the tears fall down. 

If everything was just for revenge, then why are you crying? If everything wasn’t real for you, then why does it hurt more than what Yoomi and Yeonjun did to you? You feel so tired and helpless as you sit on the ground, regretting everything that you have done. 

Maybe you shouldn't have interfered with karma and let them do their own things. Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, then you would’ve just waited for Yoomi’s downfall. Good things come to those who wait, right? The universe must really hate you so much that it backfired on you immediately. 

As those thoughts sinked in your mind, tears continued to fall. You were sobbing so hard that you didn’t hear the door opening. 

“Y/n!? We just saw Jay’s car leaving —”

Yunjin and Jake stopped when they saw you on the floor. You turned around to them and both felt deja vu. It’s the same look that you had when you caught Yoomi and Yeonjun. 

“I’m sorry Jake,” it was the first thing that you said. “I hurt Jay —”

Jake didn’t say a word. Instead, he walks towards you to pull you to a hug, making you sob harder as you can feel his hands patting your back. And as if it wasn’t enough, Yunjin approached you too and wrapped her arms around your back. Her head leaning against your shoulder as she brushes your hair to calm you down.

-

The following day, you show up to the class like it was a normal day. Thanking Yunjin’s makeup skills to help you conceal any fragments that show that you cried. The classroom was full already, the back row seat left unoccupied which you and Yunjin sat on.

“He won’t stop?” Yunjin whispered, eyeing your phone screen. There were no notifications, but your wallpaper of you standing in front of the jellyfish aquarium remained. That photo was taken by Jay. 

Jay hasn't stopped sending you a message since yesterday. He wanted to talk to you, maybe he was asking for closure or something but you had enough. — and yet, instead of blocking Jay’s number, you put your phone notifications on silent mode.

“He already did,” the last time Jay sent you a message was this morning. Saying he won’t bother you anymore because Jake told him so, but he’ll be waiting for your message. 

“You won’t talk to him anymore?” your friend asked. 

You only shake your head, “I can’t face him anymore.” 

Yunjin didn’t say a word, she simply nodded as she gave you an assuring pat on the back, making you chuckle. 

As the day continued, you couldn’t help but dart your eyes on Yoomi in the middle of the class. She's seated on the second row like the good student she was, jotting down notes on her notebook, even interrupting the professor’s lecture at any chance that she could to ask questions or give her insights. 

You always knew that her intentions of telling Jay was out of jealousy, but what did she gain from it? Did she want you to suffer more? There were multiple times that it crossed your mind why Yoomi did it to you. And this isn’t just about Jay, it’s also about Yeonjun. What does Yoomi even want from you? 

“So I was right? You did use Jay,” and maybe, your questions may be answered when Yoomi approaches you first. Not half of the class had left the room and she’s already cornering you. 

“You won’t leave me alone, won’t you?” you snarled, feeling irritated than ever. You didn’t mind that there were audiences that were watching, your old friends near the teacher’s table, waiting for Yoomi, while Yunjin stood beside you. 

“Just admit it y/n.” 

“Don’t push me Yoomi, you had the fucking audacity to approach and taunt me when you’ve done worst things to me,” you barked at her. 

“That’s why it makes sense that you used Jay, to get back to me right!? You knew from the start —”

“Yoomi, I’m telling you this now while I’m being rational, but I don’t give a fuck about you anymore from the moment I saw you at Yeonjun’s dorm, and you should stop giving a shit about me and my life. You have Yeonjun, right? And even if you two are not together, you will never have a chance with Jay.” 

“So, that makes you better than me? Because Jay likes you?” she scoffed, but you can hear in her tone that she was hurt. 

Your forehead creased, “this isn’t some competition Yoomi, you have everything, Yeonjun, our friends — and maybe wake up for once, the universe doesn’t revolve around you.” 

“You don’t understand y/n is that Jay is the only person that I had loved ever since junior high, do you know how much it hurts that no matter what I do, he just doesn’t look at me? And then you came along and suddenly he’s all over you. What did Yeonjun and Jay see in you? I don’t understand.” She vented out. 

Never would you think that Yoomi would be insecure about you. You always see yourself as a normal college girl. Decent looks, smart enough to get a decent average, and a bit introverted. There’s not much thrill in your life aside from partying on Friday night on rare occasions. You blend on the walls just like you want to. 

Yoomi is different. She’s everything. She’s pretty, always has the cutest aesthetic. Had an impressive track record of grades, and extra-curricular. She’s also an active student in Decelis, her organizations are too many to count, and everyone knows and likes her. 

Yoomi has the spotlight, then why on earth is she still after your shadow? Even after stealing everyone from you, it’s still not enough for her.

“That’s not my problem anymore Yoomi,” you told her, tone becoming colder. “It’s not my fault that not everyone find you lovable.” 

Yoomi gasped. Her eyes started to water. It shocked her when those words came out of your mouth. She has been used to praises, to people showering her with love. Yoomi thinks that she can still manipulate you, but that’s where her assumptions went wrong. Now, it was a wrong move to confront you — especially when your bottled-up hatred for her can burst out any minute. 

“That was harsh y/n,” she mumbled, trying to hold back her tears. 

“You shouldn’t have provoked me,” you angrily said. “You want me to admit it? Fine, I did date Jay for fun, and he was such a dream. The dates, his affection – god he was such a gentleman, and the sex? It was so fucking good, and he looks so fucking hot underneath me.”

Yoomi rendered speechless, mouth open as she was shaking due to shock while you only stared at her angrily. 

“And even after telling him the truth — everything, he still wants me. He still came back running after me. You think that telling him the truth yesterday will make him look at you? Congrats because he did, but that was because he was annoyed by you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m done with him, maybe this time you can have him, since you like picking up the trash that I threw just like what you did with Yeonjun,” you gave Yoomi a smile. “Just remember this one, Yeonjun settled on you because you’re a naive girl who’ll throw herself at any guy that looks at her. You want to know our differences? I know my worth while you’re pathetic because you crave for any guy’s attention.” 

That’s when Yoomi burst into tears, loud and harsh that it made you scoff in disbelief. You only signaled Yunjin to leave, making her grab her bag as you and her watch your old friends circle around Yoomi, comforting her and shooting glares at you. You didn’t bother glancing at them as you and Yunjin walked out of the room.

Did it lift off a weight from your shoulder? No, you felt yourself more slumped than ever, thoughts were running through your mind as you exited the building. You glanced at Yunjin who placed her arms around your shoulder, shaking you lightly as you two began walking towards the university gate. 

“She’s such a drama queen,” Yunjin said with an annoyed tone. “But I didn’t expect you to be so harsh.”

“That’s light for me, I could’ve said worse,” you stated. Your attention shifted up to the sky to see that dark clouds had become to cover the blue sky. Your lips turn into a straight line as you think about how the sky is sharing its empathy with you. 

The weather in Decelis had become gloomy. The rainy season had started and the cold temperature seemed like a hug that you needed. 

Days after the confrontation, class has been suspended due to strong rainstorms. It was a perfect time for you to ponder about your senior year. Stuck inside your apartment flat with both your roommates, you found solace in the loud raindrops drizzling on the street.

You sat on the wooden chair, legs stretched on railings of the balcony. You were listening to some music on your phone with a half-lit stick of cigarette between your fingers. It was a rare case for you to smoke, only during your night outs wherein you need to sober up before going home. But in these moments, you feel like you need to take a few smokes to relieve your stress. 

“Hey,” you turned around immediately to hear a masculine voice. Seeing Jake in his hoodie and pajamas, his hair a mess and he’s not wearing his glasses. 

“Should I stop?” you asked, raising the stick, but your roommate only shook his head, sitting on the empty chair beside you and also raising his legs on the railings. 

“You seem to be lost in thoughts, like a poet stuck in a writer’s block,” Jake teases, making you laugh. 

“Wish that’s my problem,” you only let out a sigh before blowing a few puffs. 

“Why, still feel guilty about what happened?” he asked, and this time, you shake your head.

“I just wonder if Yoomi ever thought of me as a friend,” you confessed. “Or someone who she competes discreetly.” 

Jake didn’t say a word, he only stared at you as if he was waiting for more. 

“It’s not hard to wonder about it, after all, we were friends for two years and a half too. So I wonder, during those years, did she ever treat me as her friend?” 

“Well, do you regret your friendship with her?” Jake asked you. 

“It’s hard to think about it when all I can feel about her is hate,” you admitted. “Maybe my talk with her a few days just gave me a clarification that she was insecure about me, then it struck me if she ever treated me as a friend.”

“Well, friends don’t steal their friend’s boyfriend,” your roommate pointed out, making you glance at him. “That surely answers your question.” 

You didn’t say a thing. Jake’s right, that should’ve been the clue. And to think that Yoomi never brought up why you cut her off and all she can point out was that you dated Jay shows that she never valued your friendship — not even once. 

You flicked off the butt of the cigarette stick and placed it on the railings. You wanted to smoke another stick but you sat on the chair instead, deeply immersed with the rain. 

“You know, Jay is still waiting for you,” Jake opened up.

But he was only met with silence from you. 

“You know you can’t avoid everything right?” Jake pointed out. “You’re like this with Yoomi and Yeonjun, and while you had a valid reason to not confront them, Jay’s different, you left him alone in the dark.”

There it is. You hate that Jake was able to pick it up. You know that you became avoidant to people ever since you got betrayed. You kept your circle small, afraid that the more you let people in your life, the more chances they’ll hurt you.

When Yeonjun and Yoomi went behind your back, you didn’t bother asking for any explanation. Completely cutting the two off because you know that it’ll hurt more if you hear their side. And whatever shitty reason they can come up will deem useless. 

Jay on the other hand, entered your life because you wanted revenge. But before he could hurt you, you hurt him first — and for you that’s even worse. 

“Jake, I hurt Jay, I can’t even look him in the eyes without feeling any guilt,” you explained. 

“I talked to him a few days ago and he understands where you are coming from, he’s not mad y/n,” Jake added. 

“And is that supposed to make me feel okay?” you whispered. “I don’t know what to feel about everything.”

“It takes time,” your roommate pats your shoulder lightly, giving you a quick smile. “But just so you know, you don’t have to live in hatred forever, who knows, maybe you can learn to love again.”

That’s when you shifted your gaze at Jake, he only gave you a warm smile, making you chuckle bitterly. 

“You think so?”

“I just think that you’ve become happier when Jay was around,” Jake pointed out. “Yunjin can see it too, and you might not notice it because you’re too busy with your revenge, but something shifted when Jay entered your life.”

You were stunned, staring at Jake who shifted his gaze back to the pouring rain. Out of the three of you, Jake has always been the most rational one. He was like a brother to you, and while Yunjin was your chaotic other-half, Jake has always been there to watch over you two. 

“You think I deserve Jay?” you whispered, bare audible.

“I think you deserve someone who will love you so wholly that he’ll pick up every broken piece of you,” Jake replied. “And I know that Jay is that kind of guy.” 

-

Weeks passed and the passing hurt felt now like a blur to you. 

You busied yourself with your subjects, focusing on your academics and papers which was your coping mechanism back then. It was deja vu all over again but rather than letting yourself swallow in guilt, you focused your attention on something else. 

Midterm exams are done, and you managed to pass your requirements with ease despite the stress you’ve been through. Now, you feel like a normal student who’s worried about her academics again. 

The door of the classroom swung open, your professor entered it with a tense atmosphere following her. No greetings or bright smiles, making the room falter in silence. If it wasn’t enough, she slams her essay papers, loud enough to flinch the whole room. 

“I’m so disappointed,” she started. “Twenty-five years of teaching here in Decelis, never would’ve thought that you’ll do this in my course.”

The whole room falls under a few whispers and murmurs. You glanced at Yunjin who merely shrugged. 

“You know that plagiarism is a grave offense in our department? We pride ourselves in our students’ intelligence and perspective but here we are — and it’s not only a few paragraphs, but the whole paper. This is so disappointing,” she grabs the paper, a bit crumpled but you can see the huge ‘X’ mark on the paper. 

“Ms. Han Yoomi,” she declares, making you flinch. You glanced at Yunjin who’s eyes were about to pop out of its socket. Your friend grabs your friend, calming herself from doing something petty, while your mouth forms a small gap as you cover it with your hand. All you could feel was shock, heart thumping like a rabbit’s eager foot. 

“You’re one of our scholars right? Plus, you mentioned that you’re running for honors? This is so disappointing,” your professor shakes her head as she places Yoomi’s paper down. 

Yoomi stood up from her seat way too fast that the chair fell down, causing a loud thud that echoed through the room. But Yoomi couldn’t care less. “Ma’am, I can explain —”

“You can explain it to the Dean Ms. Han, you know the consequences of your action,” she cut off. “Please follow me, and the rest of you, please take your midterm papers and consider my comments for your revisions for the final paper.”

The whole room watched as your professor walked out of the door, while Yoomi stood there frozen. It took a little nudge from her friend for her to move, grabbing her bag as she walked out of the room with her head lay low. When both of them left the room, whispers began to swarm around the classroom, just like you, everyone was surprised that Yoomi would do such a thing. 

“Holy shit!” Yunjin whisper-shouted. “Holy fucking shit! I didn’t expect her to do that!”

“Fuck, what the actual fuck —” you let out a deep breathe, trying to calm yourself. “I can’t believe it, karma’s fucking real.” 

Yunjin only laughs, slapping your arms as you try to conceal your laughter. “No, because that was fucking dumb of her, I can’t believe that she would do that.”

“Right! She always pride herself in writing papers even though her writing fucking sucks, but she plagiarized!? That’s so fucking stupid of her.” 

You know that it was mean. Laughing at someone’s mistake that may cause her academic disruption, but after everything that happened to you? Yoomi will never have a chance to get past an offense that she stupidly did. 

Karma’s finally after her and you know the result of offense. If no appeal were done, she can get suspended and worst — be removed from receiving honors. All her pride and dreams came crashing down in just a glimpse. And the good thing about it was that it’s all her fault. You didn’t have to raise a finger for it to happen. 

You didn’t have to do anything. It slowly sinked in your mind that karma will eventually get back to her. It slumped you that if you had the patience to wait, you didn’t have to involve an innocent person in making your ex-best friend miserable. 

You should be happy that karma got Yoomi, but it was only a passing adrenaline of satisfaction that Yoomi’s idiocracy got back at her. If this is what you’ve been praying for, why does the guilt remain on you?

It’s been weeks and yet, he’s still on your mind. You wonder, is he waiting for you? You hate confrontations. You were never good with words and dealing with people, but you couldn’t help to think about Jay and how you left him in the dark. You know what you have to do. 

You found yourself in front of his apartment door. Hands shaking and heart beating at an abnormal pace. Jay had agreed to talk to you, and that means there’s no turning back now. You pressed the doorbell and after a few rings, the door swung open. 

You stood there frozen, seeing Jay in a large t-shirt and sweatpants, hair disheveled like he just woke up. Your words got stuck on your throat, an awkward atmosphere hovering between the two of you. 

“I —”

“Come in,” he said with a soft tone which made your heart skip a beat. Your foot moved on its own and entered his apartment, removing your shoes as you Jay waited for you. 

“So,” Jay started as soon as you two reached the living room, clearing his throat. “What is it that you want to talk about?”

You only fiddled with your fingers, looking down because you can’t even face Jay. “Yoomi, got suspended today for plagiarising her midterm paper.” 

“What?” Jay asked, disbelief. 

“She got a two week suspension and got stripped off from her scholarship,” you added. “I should be happy because karma finally got her, but somehow it didn’t feel like I won.”

That’s when you look at Jay, confused yet waiting for you to say another word.

“Because I hurt you Jay. I was so impatient for Yoomi’s downfall that I resorted to using you. I dated you because I was petty because you’re a big part in Yoomi’s life but she can’t have you — but I can.” your hands become shaky, you are harsh with your fingers as you find yourself catching for breath. 

“And I’m sorry because you were so genuine about dating me, even when I told you that I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, you understood where I am coming from but all I did was hurt you,” you took a deep breath. 

“y/n,” Jay called out but you chose to ignore it. Glancing at him as your eyes started to water. 

“And I understand if you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry if I ran away — I always ran away from everything, even from Yeonjun and Yoomi, I didn’t bother asking for their explanation but you…you deserve it Jay.”

That’s when Jay approached you, pulling you to a hug that only made you cry. You punched his chest, trying to push him away but he only tightened his hold on you. 

“You should be angry but why aren’t you? Why!?” You managed to stitch some words, and instead of answering you, Jay brokes out from the hug, caressing your cheeks as he looked at you fondly.

“I’ve known you for so long,” Jay confessed. “You’re always been with Yoomi. I know Yoomi, we’re from the same town but…she’s just not my type.” 

You only stared at Jay, eyes widened.

“You know me?” you asked, shocked. 

Jay only laughs, “face? Yeah I know you, but name and other things? Not really. But it’s not hard to remember the girl who looks like she doesn't want to be there whenever she attends our gig.”

The comment made you stifle a laugh, making Jay smile. “I found you cute and pretty, and although it hurts that you’re always on your phone during our gig, I still find myself looking at you. You completely contrast’s Yoomi’s loud cheer, that’s why I was drawn to you.”

“I wonder, “when will she be able to look at us?” then I discovered that you had a boyfriend, and not gonna lie it crushed my heart.” Jay jokingly said. “Then you stopped showing up to our gigs, and Yoomi was with another friend. I thought, maybe you were spending your time with your boyfriend, and maybe I should stop this silly crush of mine.” 

You became quiet. Thoughts became afloat. It all makes sense now. From the start, Yoomi never really had the chance with Jay. All the times she told you that Jay kept on glancing at her was just her assumption — Jay has been looking at you all along. 

His words, you recall the way Jay told you that he doesn’t want to lose you again. You thought that your first meeting was at the bar but no, he has been looking for you for years now. 

“So, when you approached me at the bar —”

“It was like fate telling me that, “there she is, this is your chance!” And I didn’t want to waste it.” 

“But I hurt you Jay,” you pointed out. 

But Jay merely shrugs. “No, from the start, you made it clear to me that you didn’t want a serious relationship, I respected that and I was happy with what we had. I was happy just being on your side.” 

Tears started to fall from your eyes again, you couldn’t help but to cry making Jay pull you to his arms again, wrapping you gently as he pats your head.

It couldn’t sink in your mind that aside from your roommates, there is someone who is willing to be by your side despite all you’ve been through. You always thought that you’re undeserving of finding other people to love you, but it just went to your mind that meeting Jay wasn’t a way for you to get back to your ex-best friend — it was a way for you to find another person who will love you again. 

“I hate you, you were supposed to hate me for what I did,” you said between your cries. 

“How can I? Your reason is valid though, and if you told me from the start, I would’ve done worse, maybe kiss you in front of Yoomi just to spite her.” Jay joked, which led you to jabbing his chest, he lightly scowled as you glared at him. 

“I’m serious,” you told him. 

“And I’m also serious,” Jay lightly cups your cheeks, swiping any teardrop from your eyes. “And I’m not saying this because I like you, but because it’s just some petty revenge right? It’s not like you’re planning their murder.” 

“I could if murder was legal,” you spat. “Would you still join me?”

And instead of saying anything, Jay kisses the tip of your nose, “anything for my pretty girl.”

“I couldn’t believe you,” you mumbled. “After everything, you’re still here for me.”

“How can I? I’ll be with you at any chance fate will give me.”

“Oh, suddenly you’re spiritual enough to believe in fate?” 

“You taught me how to.”

Silence swallowed you two. You only stared at Jay who’s gazing at you fondly. Then he smiles, grazing your cheeks with his thumb.

“I love you.” Jay confessed. 

Your eyes widen by his words, staring at him speechless as he never left his gaze at you. 

“I love you so much that it didn’t hurt me that you used me, it hurt me that you had to resort to that plan because you were hurting so much.” Jay explained. “And if you give me a chance, I’ll show to you that you can still be loved, and I don’t care if you’re still broken by your past, I’ll help you gain your trust to love again.” 

You only let out a sigh, glancing at Jay who’s eagerly waiting for your answer. That’s when you lean against his cheeks, smiling as you start, “thank you Jay, for showing me that I can still be loved.” 

“Maybe meeting you wasn’t a way for karma to tell me to get back to Yoomi, but it was fate’s way to tell me that I can still learn to love someone. And while I was stupid to be focused too much on my anger, I forgot that I should’ve used my energy reciprocating your feelings to me.”

“And we can take it slow, I’m in no rush —”

“No Jay, I was just too stupid to realise that I’d fallen for you, that there were moments that felt genuine for me, and I want us to be more real, without thinking about Yoomi or getting back to her.” 

You saw how Jay slowly sank-in what you just said, eyes widening as his hold to your face tightens. 

“Are you serious?” he breathes. 

You only nod as a response, letting out a soft laughter as Jay’s expression brightens more. He could only let out a raspy gasp, words stuck on his throat as he pulled you closer for a hug. 

“I can’t believe — fuck, I'm just happy – god, I can’t believe this,” he said, choking in his own words.

“I’m sorry if it took me long.” 

“You’re worth the wait,” Jay whispered. ,

Breaking from the hug, Jay found himself staring at you. You only let out a small chuckle as you found yourself staring at Jay’s eyes. He lightly brushes your hair before planting a kiss on top of your head, then sealing your lips with lips — an action that tugs your heart with ease. You could only kiss him back, finding yourself smiling between it. 

Because the first time ever since you got your heart broken, you found yourself genuinely happy. 

-

Epilogue. 

“Congratulations to us!” Yunjin hugs you tightly, making you chuckle as you hold onto your graduation cap tightly. 

Senior year passed by with ease. You found yourself juggling your thesis papers and internships along with course subjects. There were gray days and you lost count of the breakdowns that you had throughout the year, but here you are, officially graduating with honors.

“Congrats love,” Jay said, handing you a bouquet of lilies which made you smile. 

“Thank you love,” you said before planting a kiss on him.

Your relationship with Jay was a second chance for you. Although you two still kept it unlabeled in the first few months because there were parts of you that were still struggling to open up to him, Jay was ever patient with you. 

But now, you two became official, and you look forward to what waits for you two outside college.

“Congrats to you two, I know you two can make it,” Jake said, handing you two bouquets of flowers which made Yunjin fake cry. 

“I can’t believe that we’re no longer roommates! I’ll miss annoying you two,” Yunjin said between her fake sobs, slinging her arms to you and Jake and pulling you two for a hug.

“You’re so dramatic,” you said, but your smile widened as you hugged Yunjin back, which Jake did the same. 

“But before that, I have something to spill!” Yunjin excitedly said, breaking out from the hug. 

“Do you guys know why Yoomi isn’t here?” she asked, and you only shrugged. 

Now that you think of it, throughout your senior year, Yoomi still managed to get through her academics but there is wariness around her now because of her case. She didn’t bother you anymore either. Senior year became a peaceful year for you. 

“Just tell us already,” Jake impatiently said, making Yunjin let out an evil chuckle, which meant that her story is diabolical. 

“Apparently, she wasn’t able to graduate because the academic coordinators had learned that she slept with our Dean.”

“What the fuck —”

“Are you serious!?” you shouted, “no fucking way, where did you learn that?”

“Her ‘friends’ of course,” Yunjin smirked. “Apparently, that’s the reason why she was able to maintain her scholarship. They only investigated it during graduation season and had confirmed it a few days ago.”

“So, she wasn’t able to graduate?” Jake asked. 

“And she’s expelled from Decelis, she can’t continue her studies here,” Yunjin added. 

“Now that’s much worse,” Jay added, but a soft chuckle escaped his lips. 

“And she fucking deserve it,” you mumble. “She finally got her karma.”

“Guess the universe has answered your prayers.”

You only stared at Jay, a soft smile curving on his lips, which made you smile wider. “I guess they did.” 

Everything now felt light. The thorn in your heart was gone. You finally graduated with honors, your roommates are there for you, and your ex-best friend got what she deserves. 

“Hey,” you called out Jay, shifting his attention to you. His right arm instinctively wraps around your waist. 

“Do you need anything?” he asked, and you only shook your head.

“I love you,” you said.

Jay scoffs in disbelief, but the smile on his lips becomes wide as he leans into you for a kiss. “I love you too.” 

The classroom was filled with noises. Bustling whispers and groans as the midterm papers are being returned by their professor. The woman in front, Atty. Yoon has a small smile on her lips as she hands out the papers one by one. 

“Congratulations Jungwon! You’ve got a perfect score,” a round of applause filled the classroom. All eyes were on Jungwon who had a small smile as he accepted his paper from the midterm exams. 

As Jungwon sat on his chair, he quietly observed his answers after not seeing it for a week. It wasn't his best arguments but it still got him a perfect score, he doesn’t have the right to complain about whether he could’ve done better. 

“Y/n, perfect score too, congratulations!” his head lifted immediately as soon as your name was called. Jungwon watches you stand up from your seat and walk towards the teacher’s table. You mouthed your thanks to your professor before going back towards your seat — catching the way Jungwon was staring at you, and giving him an eye roll before sitting. 

You began rereading your paper. Seeing the small comments and remarks from your professor made your smile even wider. The perfect score was just a small thing, but hearing feedback from your professor was a different praise for your intelligence. 

After returning all the papers. Atty. Yoon began her lecture. The class fell into silence, unable to ask their peers their results. You listened to her diligently as you wrote down notes and observations from her lectures, until the clock strikes at three-thirty.

“Okay! That’s all for today, remember to pass your activities tomorrow and — oh! May I request those who got a score of ninety-five and above to approach me? Class dismissed.” she smiled as she watched her students scramble from their seats.

You stood up from your seat, walking straight towards the teacher’s table along with some classmates of yours — including Jungwon, who only gave you a small glance. 

“The Supreme court is opening their office for interns this year, but only one will be given to this section since limited slots will be open,” the professor explained, looking at each student one by one. 

“This isn’t mandatory but it will be a great experience. I am giving you all the opportunity to apply for it. It’ll be open next month, just wait for my further announcement, but for now, think about it and its merit on your future” with that, she grabs her things, smiling at them as she bids, “that would be all, goodbye!”

As she exited the classroom, your classmates were surprised by the news, they began conversing about the internship while you’re still sinking in the news. 

An internship in the supreme court? It’s a great starter to know more about the court trials and hearing of laws. — it’s not just a great opportunity, it might be a stepping stone for your future as a lawyer.

“You’re going to try?” you turned to your classmate who you only replied with a smile. 

“Of course she will! Y/n, I think you’ll be a great candidate for it!” another one complimented, and you only chuckled.

“I do think it’s a great opportunity,” you simply answered, not missing the way Jungwon glanced at you. 

“What about you Jungwon? You’re going to try?” someone asked, and Jungwon didn’t say a word for a moment. 

“I’ll think about it,” Jungwon replied, glancing at you who’s smile faded. “I might be busy with Arcanum too.”

“Oh really? But I bet you can multitask it, you’re not Yang Jungwon for nothing!” 

As soon as their attention shifted on Jungwon, you excused yourself and returned to your seat. A thinned line formed on your lips as you grabbed your bag when you felt a presence approaching you. 

“You seem relieved,” Jungwon stated. “That I’ll think about it.”

“What makes you think that I’m relieved? It’s like you’re saying I’m scared that you might steal the slot from me.”

“Your words, not mine,” Jungwon nonchalantly shrugged. 

“Because I know you Jungwon, your ‘I’ll think about it’ will just take a day and you’re going to do it eventually,” you sassed.

“And I know you y/n, this opportunity is a great kick for your law school essays,” Jungwon smirked at you as he reached his hand. “May the best student win.”

“Fuck off Jungwon,” you snarled at him, glaring before leaving the classroom. The heavy feeling in your heart followed you not long after as you exited your department building. 

You and Jungwon used to be two peas in a pod. Growing up in the same neighborhood, you two became close the moment your parents knocked on the doors of the Yang residence and introduced themselves. 

You remember five year old Jungwon peeking behind his mother while his older sister was just right beside him. He quickly introduced himself to you, smiling despite lacking one upper front tooth, and inviting you if you want to play their wii station.

From there, you and Jungwon grew up together along with Jiwon. You assumed that you’ll be closer with Jiwon, playing dress-ups and dolls, but Jungwon always makes sure that you’ll get to play with him — which resulted in the two of you becoming best friends. He always clings to you, talks to you with the most random thoughts which usually catch you off-guard, and gives you the most random things just because it reminds him of you. 

Your friendship with Jungwon didn’t stop when you returned to your original address during high school. You know that texts and chats won’t suffice, that’s why you begged your parents to continue your study at Decelis University’s high school department because you know that Jungwon is there — and you don’t want to be separated from him. 

With the condition of maintaining good grades, your parents allowed you to study there. During high school, you and Jungwon were considered as a genius duo. Always on the top two of the whole department, but none of you see it as a rivalry. It’s more of a support to each other. He helps you with math and science, while you help him in history and language.

You two spend most of the time studying, frequently in his house or sometimes in a random coffee shop. It was tranquil, and you loved every moment with Jungwon. You considered him as your bestest friend, and you were looking forward to continuing it during college especially when both of you got accepted into Decelis University. 

Then came your high school graduation. That moment was supposed to be a celebration for both of you. You were ranked second while Jungwon’s the valedictorian of the batch. Everything felt so right, not until Jungwon asked you for a favor.

“What are we doing here Jungwon?” you asked. The hallways were empty, students were inside the small convention hall of Decelis, lining up for the ceremony. Your parents will be here any moment and so are his, but Jungwon asked to accompany him — having to get something in their locker. 

That’s how you two ended up inside your empty classroom, you stood there while Jungwon fiddled his locker. Opening it, grabbing something, and then as he faces you. Jungwon looks so nervous and you’re confused, never in your life would you see your best friend this nervous. 

“I’m going straight to the point but I like you y/n, not as a best friend, but as a woman,” he confessed boldly. He then stretches his arms, showing you the object that he was holding: a small white paper bag with a delicate blue ribbon wrapped on the side. You eyed the logo of the paper bag and knew that it was an expensive jewelry brand. 

“Jungwon —” you stopped. Words couldn’t get out of your mouth. Your heart starts beating fast because you don’t know what to say. You were flustered — surprised on top of that. You didn’t expect Jungwon to boldly confess to you.

You didn’t expect that Jungwon has feelings for you, or maybe he’s not subtle and you’re just too oblivious about it. That’s why you stood there frozen as you tried to stitch some words to say to Jungwon. 

“I’m sorry Wonwon…” you managed to stutter. “But I can’t accept your feelings — my parents, they told me to focus on my studies first. They think relationships will just be a distraction.”

As those words fell from your mouth, Jungwon felt his ears ringing. Heart dropping as he slowly brings back the paperbag he was holding. He couldn’t believe what you just said to him.

Bullshit. Jungwon called it bullshit. He can feel his heart shattering into thousands of pieces as he processes every damn word that you said. You watched as the hopeful look on Jungwon’s face distorted in a confusion then slowly, his face became bitter and betrayed. 

“I see how it is,” Jungwon bitterly laughs. “Really? That’s your reason? Alright, if that’s really your reason then prove it to me.”

Your forehead creased at his words, confused by Jungwon’s reaction. “Prove it to you — Jungwon, what are you talking about?”

“Prove it to me, show me that your reason really is the truth and now just some excuse,” Jungwon challenged.

 “Are you seriously throwing away our friendship just because I rejected you?” you couldn’t believe it. Years of friendship all crumbled down just because you couldn’t reciprocate your feelings to him. 

“Your reason is shallow y/n,” he pointed out instead. That’s when you realized that the Jungwon in front of you isn’t your best friend anymore. That the Jungwon in front of you was a guy who you just rejected but couldn’t accept.

You scoffed in disbelief, “shallow!? You’re the one who couldn’t accept that I rejected you!”

“And you’re going to regret rejecting me.” Jungwon warned with a serious tone. “Prioritizing studies? You think I’m going to believe that?”

“Think whatever you want Jungwon,” you snarled at him. “We’re done, I don’t want to be friends with you anymore.”

“Oh no, we’re not done yet,” Jungwon smirks at you. “We’re just getting started.”

Your years of friendship with Jungwon vanished that day. Ever since that day, Jungwon looks at you like a competition that he needs to beat — and he sticks true to his words. 

You know how petty Jungwon can be. But you didn’t realise that he was that petty and prideful enough to challenge you. It even led him to transferring to the same college program as you which is legal management. You were surprised to see him in your classroom on the first day of class. You thought that he’ll stick with Physical Therapy but he chose the same program as yours just so he can prove to you that he’s serious about his words.

You weren’t going to take it seriously, but when the first debate was exchanged between the two of you a week into your freshman year, you decided to play along with his games.

It wasn’t those typical, my grades are higher than you so suck it up! type of rivalry. Both of you are equally intelligent, gpa and grades are always 1 never falling under 2. Jungwon doesn’t care if you aced an exam and he got three mistakes. What he cares about is competing with you at anything that will be worth your pride and academics. 

Recitations, rankings, organizations and contests. Those are his targets. If you joined a club, he’s joining it too. If you’re joining a contest, he’s joining it too. He’ll argue with you at every chance he could get, he doesn’t care if it ends up illogical, all he wants to see is the pissed expression on your face as he never stops rebutting all your arguments.

The tallies of the winner and losers are always equal because you’re not one to back down either. You’re not going to let him win. After ruining your friendship, you want Jungwon to regret ruining his friendship with you.

No one was tallying but the first one to quit loses, and so far, no one has ever forfeited. Both of you are fueled with pride and intelligence, eager to prove the other party that they’re wrong. Everyone knows that tension between the two of you. Some are wary of it, but others brush it off, thinking that it’s just a stupid college rivalry — not knowing the history you two had.

The only thing that Jungwon didn’t join was the Decelis Publications because for once, he admits that he’s not that creative when it comes to writing articles. He’s not going to burn his creative juices in that area, so instead, he ventured on other things — which is joining a band. 

During his freshman year, Jungwon was roped into joining a university band along with three of his seniors. Arcanum was created and they became widely popular during their years in Decelis. Jungwon was their drummer and it didn’t surprise you since Jungwon has always loved playing drums ever since he was a kid. 

So while he’s out there making noise as a band member, you find peace in Decelis Publications. An area that only you can touch. A place where there is no Yang Jungwon breathing against your neck and you can move on your own. Everything about it was worth it especially when you were appointed as the paper’s Editor-in-Chief in your last year in college. 

“Excuse me, you want me to do what?” you repeated, an offended look on your face was written. 

“Not me, it was Ma’am Jo, she wants you to do an exclusive interview with Jungwon,” Minju, your best friend slash assistant editor of the publication repeated.

“I know Minju, but — are you serious!?” you whisper-shouted but Minju could only give you a knowing look. She knows about your rivalry with Jungwon, and she knows how much you hate that boy but the order came from the paper’s adviser. 

No way. There’s no fucking way. You already interviewed Arcanum back then during the year-end concert. Why do the publications need to write an article about them — specifically Yang Jungwon.

“Listen, they’re popular now, they’re going to go mainstream especially when they’re gearing up for their debut single, every eyes is on them, and Jungwon, being the youngest and still in college, managed to multitask his studies and playing in a band, he’s the pride of Decelis at the moment.” Minju explains calmly.

“Wouldn’t that offend the other members who just happen to be ahead of him? Isn’t it better to just interview the whole group since all of them are from Decelis?” you justified, and Minju nods in agreement. 

“You just don’t want to interview Jungwon alone, don’t you?” Minju laughs, making you roll your eyes.

“You know me Minju,” it’s the only thing you could say. 

“Then, tell that to Ma’am Jo, I’ll think she’ll understand your reason,” your best friend suggested.

“She should or else I’ll have you interview them,” you threatened, leaving the club room with Minju laughing at your remark. 

The walk towards the faculty room was short. Knocking on the door, all heads turned as you gave the teachers inside a smile and small greeting before approaching your adviser who focused on her laptop. 

“Yes, y/n what is it dear?” Miss Jo brightly asked, beaming at you. 

“Ma’am, regarding your request to interview Yang Jungwon,” you started.

She seems delighted with your words, “yes! What about it?”

“Why is he the focus of our article just because he’s still a Decelis student? Wouldn’t that be unfair for the other members of the band? They only graduated last year too,” you explained.

Miss Jo hums for a second, nodding as she seems to understand your sentiments. “Well, I only suggested Jungwon because he’ll be easier to be reached unlike the other three — unless you have connections with them? My original plan was to cover their whole journey. Starting from being a university band up to where they are now. I’m a bit intimidated to reach the others, that’s why I only suggested Jungwon.”

“That’s a lot Ma’am,” you commented shortly.

“Yes, it’s a bit hectic too, that's why I suggested that you handle it, and just ask Jungwon a short interview — unless you know how to reach the whole band.”

“I can do that, I just want to ask for the deadline,” you asked, hoping that it won’t clash with the internship. You know that you can multitask but at the same time, priorities should also be ranked, and the internship is a huge deal for you.

“It’s up to you, just be there during their release of their single debut and their showcase, we’ll put them in the paper’s front page and we’ll post them on the university’s official page,” she explains. 

“That seems to be a lot of work,” you mindlessly commented. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask for merit points on your extracurriculars, how’s that sound?” she suggested.

“Deal,” you said without any hesitation. 

As you exit the office, you lightly skip your way back towards the club room. It’ll be an easy task, you know someone who’s close to Arcanum and is willing to set up an interview with them. There’s no need to go through Jungwon because you know that he’ll immediately reject your request for the interview. 

Good for him though, you don’t have any plans of involving him on your plan too.

-

The daycare center across the street of Decelis University was filled with noises and kids running on the playground. The afternoon’s windy and cool with dark gray clouds filling the place and yet, it didn’t bother you as you went inside one of the classrooms where she was waiting for you.

“Of course babe! When do you need it?” the older girl said with a smile. You watch as she cleans each table of her students, while you’re following her from behind. 

Yang Jiwon — Jungwon’s older sister, has known Arcanum for years. The Yang residence used to be the band’s spot for practices during their college days and Jiwon had witnessed Arcanum starting from their humble beginnings.

When you and Jungwon broke up your friendship, Jiwon was the first person you ran into — despite knowing that Jungwon probably had run into her too. Jiwon was both your middle ground and pacifier. She fully understands both sides and instead of interfering, she lets you two play around the rivalry — hoping that one day, you two fully understand that you two have been dancing around your feelings instead of properly communicating.

Jiwon is still a close friend of yours. You were also there to witness her college love story that revolved around her delusional crush with Arcanum’s vocalist and how they eventually became a couple — which leads to where you are right now. 

“As soon as possible, is it a busy week for them?” you asked. 

“Just a couple of gigs, and band practices as far as I know, I’ll ask Hee,” Jiwon hums. “You know I was going to ask you why you approached me in reaching out for Arcanum when Jungwon’s there, but then again, never mind.”

You ignored the older girl’s teasing tone, rolling your eyes as you darted your attention somewhere else. “He won’t agree to it even if I approach him first.”

“Hey, why would he reject it? You know it’s big news that Decelis will cover their showcase, it’s rare for universities to support their students — it’s good exposure too, it’ll benefit both of you,” Jiwon pointed out. 

“Because I’m writing it, it’s going to be under Decelis publications, which is being handled by me,” you explained. 

“You and Jungwon’s rivalry,” Jiwon could only breathe. “Seriously, it’s been four years, you two aren’t going to call it quits? Have you ever thought of just giving up and properly explaining it to him? I graduated, got a job, and everything and you two are still fighitng.”

“Yeah, I think we both would rather die than properly communicate,” you shrugged, making Jiwon let out a sigh before grabbing her bag, and the two of you exit the classroom.

“What am I going to do to make you two go back to being friends,” she murmured, massaging her temples like it’s stressing her out.

“Nothing at all, so don’t worry about us,” you smiled, but the older girl didn’t buy it. 

“I’m just scared y/n, that things might go too far,” Jiwon sincerely said.

You only laughed at her worries, “it won’t. It’s just an academic rivalry, plus I like the competition.”

“Enough to outweigh your feelings for him?”

You didn’t answer Jiwon. The whole minute of awkward silence was enough for her to not pry further and just continue walking. She knows that you’re holding back your feelings because of its irony. Up to this point you still won’t accept the fact that you had developed feelings for Jungwon even though he’s a jerk and ruined your friendship. 

Jiwon knows your conflict and the only way to fix it is to tell Jungwon the truth but your pride says otherwise — there’s no use when you know that Jungwon doesn’t see you that way anymore. 

-

A week later, Jungwon approaches you. He’s not even near your vicinity and yet you’re already aware of him and his intention to ruin your Monday.

“An interview with Arcanum, that’s so sweet of you, you know?” he coos and you only let out a gruntled sound.

“Did Jiwon tell you that?” you asked, not even raising your head to look at him.

“Not noona, but Heeseung-hyung did,” Jungwon pointed out, and that makes sense to you too. Jiwon had informed you that she had passed the message to her boyfriend, they agreed but last week they were swarmed with gigs, that's why they weren’t able to meet you. “Which hurts me because you know I’ll agree if you asked me to interview us.”

“I don’t want you shoving it to me that you did me a favor.” you justified. The last thing that you want is to be in debt to Jungwon. 

“How about we drop that act and be professional on this one?” he offered, and that’s when you raised your hand. Glancing at him who only stood there with a small smile on his lips.

“Professional — you’re shitting yourself Jungwon? Since when did you even become professional with everything that involves me,” you mocked.

“Don’t you want it? I’m lowering myself down for you.”

“I don’t need you to.”

“I want to,” Jungwon insisted, his tone becoming serious. “How about this, you’ll get the full inside scoop of Arcanum’s preparation for our debut, even a free media pass for our showcase, but you have to make sure that it’ll give us good publicity.”

“What’s in for me?” you quickly interjected.

“I’m not going to participate in the internship,” Jungwon boldly said, and that made you raise an eyebrow. “I’ll be busy with Arcanum, our schedule and bookings are full by the end of the year, I might not be able to balance a heavy internship.”

“You really mean it?” you asked. You don’t know why but you felt something odd with Jungwon approaching you all of the sudden and striking a deal with you — like he didn’t just tell you, “may the best student wins.” last week. It’s like he has a deeper intention than what he proposed to you. 

“It won’t even benefit me, it’s not like I’m going to continue taking law,” he casually shrugs. Right. You did remember that legal management wasn’t even his choice of career. “Do you even want it or not?”

“Fine,” you said in defeat, it’s not like you’ll immediately get the slot, but since Jungwon’s forfeiting it meant less competitors for you.

You raised your pinky finger and Jungwon only stared at it for a minute.

“What are you twelve?” he mocks.

“You know I take pinky promises Won,” you told him. “If you really mean it, swear it on me.”

Jungwon heaves out a sigh before intertwining his pinky finger on yours and touching your thumb with his thumb to secure the deal. As you broke out from his touch, you only gave him a small glare.

“Keep your promises Won,” you told him.

“When did I even break my promise?” he said, and you didn’t rebut because you know it yourself that Yang Jungwon doesn’t break promises. 

-

You had prepared yourself for meeting Arcanum. Listening to their old songs, and asking Jiwon for some information about them. You wanted to make sure that you have a deep knowledge about the group before properly interviewing them.

Jungwon told you that he’ll let you know when the interview will be, but the following days there has been a radio silence. Classes continued. Quizzes, recitations, and small debates that always had your section witnessing your endless banters with Jungwon occured.

The internship for the Supreme Court was also posted on board, and it seems like the slots really are limited this time — only five and that’s for the whole one-hundred and fifty senior students under your program. Atty. Yoon had handed the requirements and while you had spare time, you completed everything that’s needed.

“Let’s go,” Jungwon said one fine Wednesday afternoon, startling you who’s still sitting in the chair. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” you snarled at him.

“Come on now, you said you want a glimpse right? You’ll be joining us at our practice tonight,” Jungwon explains and that only made you roll your eyes. 

“Fine, just a minute —”

“Faster, I don’t want to be stuck in the rush hour —”

“Damn it Jungwon, just wait!” you shouted at him who only had a teasing smile on his lips. He crossed his arms as you hurriedly shoved everything inside your bag before carrying it on your shoulder.

God you wonder how you’ll be able to spend the remaining day without Jungwon taunting you. You’ll probably go nuts before the article ends. 

You followed Jungwon towards the parking lot where a familiar red car is parked. You know that car, you remember the first time Jungwon drove it and how you two almost ran over a cat crossing the street. Both of you were so traumatized that he didn’t drive it for a whole week — and he managed to overcome it when you stayed late at night in their place one time, and he offered to drive you back to your house instead of booking a car.

You hate how nostalgia is rushing through your mind especially when things aren’t the way it was before then. A bitter smile escapes your lips as you step inside the car. Everything is the same, even that nose-prickling strawberry scent is still there. 

Jungwon didn’t teased further, he only opened the bluetooth speaker and played a song on shuffle before he drove away from the university in silence. Daydream Records — the label that took them in was thirty minutes away from Decelis, with additional ten minutes due to the rush hour traffic, you and Jungwon arrived at the building before the sun had set.

“What do you even want to know about us,” Jungwon asked the moment you two entered the elevator. “We’re barely starting with our career.”

“Everyone’s eyeing on your debut,” you only said leaning against the wall. “Stop being so humble, you know it yourself that Arcanum is getting popular.”

The elevator stopped and Jungwon exited first while you only followed him. Turning towards the right hallway before going inside a door. He opens the door without any hesitation and soft strums of keyboard welcome you. 

“Hi guys,” Jungwon greeted casually. 

“Hey —” Heeseung wasn’t able to finish his sentence when his eyes darted on you.

“This is y/n, Decelis publication’s editor-in-chief,” Jungwon introduces and you only gave them an awkward smile as their stare darted at you.

“Oh! Your so-called archnemesis,” Sunghoon spoked, grinning as he waves at you. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you chuckled. “I’m here to interview you guys and observe your daily routine before your showcase. If it’s your practice time, I won’t disturb you at all. I’ll just be here to watch you.” 

“For the papers right? So glad that you were able to convince Jungwon to do this,” Heeseung jokes.

“We made a promise,” you nonchalantly replied. “If I wrote a bad article, blame it on him.”

“Woah, you really had Jungwon on chokehold,” Jay laughs, while the youngest couldn’t do anything but to glare at his bandmates. 

“Since you’re here, want to hear our debut single? It’ll be released in two weeks, so consider yourself lucky that you’ll hear it before the whole country does,” Heeseung suggested, before he led you to sit on the couch nearby. 

“So you’ll only be releasing a single?” you asked while you took a seat.

“Already on the interview part? Yeah, we want to check whether we’ll reach our target audience through our music, although some of our original songs are still on streaming sites, they can listen to it — but this one establishes our name in the mainstream,” Heeseung explains. 

You only nod as you continue your conversations with them. They seem chill to talk with, like talking to a friend who’s a band member. After that short interview, they began practicing for their song. 

Their debut single, “Helium” was ear-catching. Jay produced the song and out of all the fifteen songs they’ve composed, they opted for Helium since it’s catchy and it’s like starting their career with a bang. Jay and Heeseung eventually became the vocalists of the band, with Heeseung taking the main parts.

While Sunghoon and Jungwon remained on their instruments, the band was planning on making everyone sing on the l0ng run. They shared that all of them can sing — which surprises you.

“You don’t know? Jungwon can sing,” Sunghoon teases during their short break, taking it as an opportunity for you to ask questions again. 

“I just haven’t heard him sing,” you answered.

“I guess, it’s time for Jungwon to sing,” Jay pats Jungwon’s shoulder who rolls his eyes. 

“Keep on dreaming y/n,” he sticks his tongue out. 

“I’m not requesting you to sing bitch,” you sassed.

“No fighting in this room so stop it you two,” Heeseung claps his hand, immediately stopping the fight before it could go longer. “Break time’s over, let’s go back to practice.”

The three of them stood up from their place and returned to their instruments, with Jungwon turning his back and giving you a middle finger, you scoffed in disbelief and did the same to him, even mouthing “fuck you.”

This is going to be a challenging article for you. 

-

You’re not sure how you manage to hold on to your sanity everytime you’re with Arcanum — actually, it’s just Jungwon. 

The article’s still in process. Miss Jo seems to be happy with the progress and has pitched some of her ideas. You’ve interviewed the members one by one then as a group. The three older members were easy to interview with. Casual and fun to talk with. They’re very passionate with the band even though none of them took music as a college program. It amazes you how their passion outweighs everything.

While Jungwon? Jungwon’s making it hard for you. He’s there with his smug grin and arms crossed as he tilts his head teasingly while you’re trying your best to give him questions about his journey as Arcanum’s drummer.

Professional my ass.

Your phone recorder had witnessed your hour long banter with him. Even the snarky remarks and name calling was there. Of course you’re not going to transcribe that in the papers, you’ll get suspended. Still, it frustrates you that Jungwon’s making it hard for you. 

“What happens to being a professional?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I am being professional,” he shrugs.

“Sure because answering “it’s cool” and “i’m having fun” to my questions is professional,” you sarcastically replied. 

“Well, I’m a man of few words,” Jungwon smiled, and there it was — that shit-eating grin. 

“Okay, fine, that’s how you want it? I’ll take note of that,” you said before standing up. “I think I’m done for today, just tell your bandmates I’ve left.”

“Already? You’re easy to give up y/n,” he mocked, and you only rolled your eyes.

“I have to prepare for the internship,” you reasoned out. “My life isn’t all about the article just so you know.”

“Oh, I thought your life revolved around our rivalry.”

“Maybe it’s you who’s revolving around it, since you started it.”

“And yet, you’re not backing out of it.”

“Jerk.”

“Only for you.” 

You didn’t answer Jungwon, but instead you made your way out of the room, halting your walk mid-way when you felt your phone vibrating. Your pent-up frustrations died a bit when you saw that it was your mother who’s calling.

“Hey mom,” you greeted.

“Hi sweetie, how are you? I’m just checking on you because it’s been a while since you called,” she started with a worried tone.

You heaved out a sigh. All the stress and workload had made you forget to make a call to your parents. “I’m fine ma, I’m at outside at the moment, I just finished an interview with Arcanum —”

“Oh! Jungwon’s band! How is he? Is he still there?” your mother asked excitingly. 

You only closed your eyes before smiling bitterly. “No ma, I mean — I just finished the interview and I’ll be going home now, I have to finish the requirements for the internship, you know, the one for the supreme court.”

“Have you ever thought about your aunt’s offer? It’s a good deal y/n,” your mother changes the topic suddenly.

“Ma, it’s too far, I can’t, it’ll be a huge adjustment for me,” you argued. There it is again. Your mother has been bugging you about your career decisions. Your aunt was also a lawyer, but she’s currently residing in the states. She was nice to give you a scholarship under their firm, along with an internship. The offer was huge and it’ll even give you a bigger stepping stone to your dream.

But it was too soon. Too rash for you and as much as it’s a huge opportunity, you find it hard to leave everything behind in a short time.

“But we will be there y/n, you’re not going to be alone, we’re here to support you,” she softly said and that assured you, but still.

“I know that ma, but I’m just not ready to leave yet,” you only said.

“Oh that’s right, you couldn’t leave Jungwon alone,” she laughed and that made you wince. “But the offer is still open y/n, I asked your aunt to send you details through your email, looked into it okay?”

“Okay ma,” the call ended and you only laughed ironically at how your parents still think that you and Jungwon are still friends. Oh well. Things are better unexplained. 

“Hey y/n,” that’s when you turned to your left, noticing that the other Arcanum members were there. That’s when you remembered where you are right now, hopefully, they weren’t able to hear your call with your mother.

“I just finished my interview with Jungwon,” you lied, smiling awkwardly at them. “I’ll be going now, bye guys!”

You didn’t even let them bid you goodbye, you hurriedly went past them and went straight to the elevator, confusing the three but they had a small hunch.

The moment they returned to the room, Jungwon stared at them innocently.

“What?” he asked, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Jungwon, come on take this seriously,” Heeseung reprimanded. 

“If she seriously wrote us in a bad light, we’re blaming you,” Jay pointed out and it only made the younger boy laugh. 

“She won’t, don’t worry,” Jungwon assured. 

“Okay, but you shouldn’t make it hard for her,” Heeseung shared. “I get that you guys have some rivalry, but in the end, she’ll be the one who’ll get in trouble if she won’t be able to pass the article before the deadline.”

“You’re nagging me aren’t you?” the youngest only said. 

“Just — don’t make it hard for her to do her job,” Heeseung added, patting Jungwon's shoulder lightly. “You’re too old for this childish shit Jungwon.”

“Yeah, holding onto a grudge won’t bring you good too,” Sunghoon added.

“You guys worry too much,” Jungwon commented.

“Don’t give her a hard time Jungwon,” Jay crosses his arms. “We didn’t mean to pry but we heard her call earlier with her mom, she seems to be going through something.”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t know the context,” Heeseung answered. “But for her sake, don’t give her more stress, can you?”

“Fine.” it was the only thing Jungwon could say. Mind filled with curiosity about your call with your mother.

-

You’re all alone inside the club room.

You’ve been staring at your laptop for a few minutes. The tab of your microsoft word where your article is is left untouched. You’re deep in thoughts as you stare at the email that your aunt sent you a few days ago. Fingers tapping on the mousepad as your mind becomes afloat.

Decisions are being made inside you, weighing the pros and cons, and internally, all you wanted was a sign.

And as if, someone heard your prayers. A knock on the door echoed inside the whole room. Startled, you immediately close your tab before turning around to see Jungwon standing in front of the door. 

“Do you need anything?” you asked with a serious tone. 

“I’m just here to inform you that the showcase will be next Friday,” Jungwon said. “Heeseung hyung will be giving you a media pass, you can bring another one too. Ma’am Jo has a separate one because she’s handling the livestream.”

“Alright,” you only nod. 

“How’s the article,” he asked, sounding more genuine than usual. 

“It’s great actually,” you replied with a casual tone.

Jungwon didn’t stop despite the whole fiasco. 

The good thing was that his members were there during his solo interview. Watching him like a hawk that he was left with no choice but to answer your questions properly. Thank God they subtly helped you or else you might just have to write him out of the article.

Days passed and your articles almost finished. All you need is the coverage of their debut showcase — at a small theater hall yet it sold out in minutes. Highlighting their popularity and the public’s anticipation of their debut. 

“The internship?” he asked, sounding curious rather than mocking.

“Interview’s will be at the end of the month,” a week after the showcase. It’ll give you more time to prepare for it. You’ve already submitted your resumè to them, along with the required documents. All you needed was to prepare for the interview. 

Somehow you couldn’t help but to feel nervous about it. Even though Jungwon, your biggest rival, isn't going to participate, the chances of you getting picked are still small. That’s why you’re eager to finish the article so that you can focus on preparing for the interview. 

“Good luck to you,” he said, making you glance at him. 

With his smile, you felt a faint skip on your heart. You can feel your cheeks heating up as the two of you stood there in silence.

“Make sure to get the slot so that my promise won’t go to waste,” he added and that immediately crashes your assumptions about his words.

You only rolled your eyes as you focused on your laptop screen. “Can you even be genuine for once, Yang Jungwon?”

“You really want that from me?” he asked, and there’s a bitter tone on it that made you realise.

“Right,” you only chuckled, remembering that you and Jungwon are still rivals despite helping each other. “If you don’t need anything else, you can leave now.”

“They heard your phone call with your mom,” Jungwon started, halting your actions. You knew what he was talking about. “You had a fight with her?”

“That’s none of your business,” you answered him back.

“You never fought with her,” Jungwon pointed out.

“Maybe they should’ve added more context about my call,” you said with an annoyed tone. “I just haven’t called her in weeks, that’s why she called me worried.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so there’s nothing going on with me at the moment,” you glanced at him. “Don’t act like you’re suddenly concerned for my well-being, Jungwon.”

For a moment, the two of you only stood there in silence. Jungwon didn’t move. He only stared at you who’s eyebags are heavy underneath the glasses. You’re not really great at hiding everything, and even with snarky remarks of yours, Jungwon still won’t buy that excuse.

But who is he even anyway? Jungwon remembers that there’s no use of him being concerned about you, it’ll only leave him confused — and so do you. So he only turned around and left. The door closes and it reminds you that your friendship with Jungwon had been gone for long — and no amount of redemption and battles of wit would ever mend it. 

You opened the mail tab once again, staring at it — the opportunity and the final step towards achieving your dreams. It’s right there in front of you. It’s chasing after you and it’s appalling because it’s begging for you and not the other way around. You’re just playing hard-to-get in this game.

But you know that you’re not ready for a big change. That’s why you shut down your laptop instead. Choices are being thunked as you exit the club room, walking towards the empty hallway as you make your way outside the building. 

You were welcomed by the golden sky, and you only smiled at the sky because you’ve been used to it as someone who’s been in Decelis since her high school days. It feels hard to say goodbye to it. You thought as you started walking towards the university gate. 

You didn’t even notice Jungwon’s who’s sitting by a nearby bench. Watching you disappear from his sight. Mind still bugged about you and what’s going on with your life. 

“Jungwon!” his thoughts disappeared when a tap on the shoulder startled him. 

“Don’t scare me like that!” he snarled at his friends who laughed at his reaction.

“We’ve been calling you from afar but you’re busy ogling at y/n,” Sunoo teased, glancing at the direction where you went.

“You know we still have a lot of months for our senior year, it’s not too late to talk to her,” Riki suggested. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jungwon replied sharply.

“Still in denial I see,” the taller man laughs.

“Not in denial,” Jungwon refuted. “I just don’t see why there’s a need to.”

“Why, afraid of getting rejected again?” Sunoo rolls his eyes. “You know, if you swallow your pride and be persistent to her, maybe the second time’s the charm, you know?” 

“Not going to follow you Sunoo.”

“Okay fine, hold onto your pride, but who has a girlfriend between the three of us?” Sunoo smirks, and the other two groans in response.

“You two don’t have a label yet!” Riki justified, and the three of them only laughed as they decided to leave their place and find a place to eat dinner.

-

The theater hall is bustling with people. Fans, media, and reporters are busying themselves as the showcase will start around six in the evening. 

You sat on your designated seat beside Minju who served as the paper’s photographer. She’s busy fixing her camera’s settings while you only sit there, waiting for it to start.

The first segment will be the interview. An hour segment wherein they’ll be answering questions from the press and their fans. While the other half will be their performance. It’ll run for an hour and a half along with a short hi-touch for the fans. Just like what they’ve told you.

You’re busy doodling on your notebook while Minju quietly captures the stage. Slowly, the place is getting crowded. Miss Jo is beside the tech booth along with some general staff, preparing for the livestream.

The program started exactly at six. The crowd became loud and flashes of camera started to flicker as the mc of the showcase announced the arrival of Arcanum.

One by one, they entered the stage, wearing casual and sporty attire. They’re also wearing light makeup and heavy accessories — their usual get-up whenever they have a gig. The screams became louder, almost like whistles of whales, and it shows that they’re currently a fan sensation. 

“Wow, they all look so handsome,” Minju said and you only nod at her words. They’re all visually-appealing, which is one of the reasons why they can easily attract fans. 

“Hello, we are Arcanum,” Heeseung leads the greeting, waving at the crowd enthusiastically before introducing themselves one by one. As they busy themselves with their greetings and introduction, you open your laptop where you have access on Decelis Publication’s social media page, preparing for a live update and multitasking on writing short captions about them. 

They started the interview lightheartedly. Sharing their thoughts and journey starting as a university band to an independent one, and eventually, signing under a label, everyone expressed their sentiments and how they’re honored that their label took them in and hone their talent. 

They also mention their goals and expectations this year, Jay wished to have their own solo concerts while Heeseung wanted to meet their fans all over the country. The question then darted to Jungwon who’s still finishing his studies, the boy only smiled at the question.

“Time management is the key, also it’s not only me who’s studying, Sunghoon hyung is doing it too,” Jungwon answered. The mc noted that their dedication and discipline is on the next level especially when their college program is far from their current career.

“Always choose your passion, that’s what strives us to work harder,” Sunghoon added.

“Actually, none of us took music as a college program,” Heeseung shared with a laugh. “But after Jay and I graduated last year, the four of us talked about our future deeply and we realized that we couldn’t let go of Arcanum, that’s why we’re here.”

“And you guys made the right decision,” the mc said genuinely, making the four smile. 

They continued the segment, changing the topic about their music, their debut single, and old songs. The members were able to answer the questions with sense and well-thought, sharing the process in their music composition and how they find inspiration on writing lyrics. 

Eventually, they moved onto the segment where they can answer their fan’s questions. The staff pulled a whiteboard with tons of sticky notes stuck to it, surprising the group with the amount of questions they received.

“How did Arcanum form?” It was the first question Heeseung picked, which surprised them.

“We haven’t told anyone this one right?” Jay shared, and the other two agreed. 

“To start, Jay and I met during freshman orientation, we became close because we learned that we love playing guitar and singing. We actually tried joining Decelis Chorale but we got rejected,” Heeseung started, laughing at his freshman self who was deflated when he didn’t get to be part of the chorale. 

“So out of spite, we thought that we should form a band, but we need to recruit members,” Heeseung added.

“While Sunghoon has been an acquaintance of mine since our parents knew each other, we met again in Decelis and I asked if he still plays the piano and he doesn’t anymore but he rekindled it when I asked him that,” Jay added. “Sunghoon was interested in playing in a band, so it’s slowly coming into pieces, we just need someone who plays the drums and Jungwon popped out of nowhere.”

“Jay hyung posted an instagram story asking if there’s any Decelis student who’s interested in playing drums, I thought it was just a one time thing but now I’m stuck with these useless hyungs,” Jungwon jokes, making the whole theater laugh. 

“We were sophomores back then while Jungwon’s still a freshman, we tried practicing our chemistry together and it worked, we performed the first time at The Rabbit Hole and there, Arcanum was born,” Sunghoon stated.

“And here you are guys,” the mc concluded.

Heeseung only smiles, “right, here we are now.”

After the question, they moved to another one. Jay picks a random one and as he reads it, he laughs at the question.

“Oh this is interesting, what is the member’s ideal type,” Jay shared, earning screams from the fans.

“Seems like everyone’s curious, who knows maybe their lucky girl is someone from the audience,” the mc teases, making the crowd scream louder. You only laughed at their reaction, looking at each other, they’re probably contemplating on whether they’ll expose their relationship or not.

“Who should go first? Jay? Since you picked it?” the mc gestured, and Jay only hums for a moment. 

“For me, my ideal type would probably be someone who’s confident and has a kind heart,” he smiled and tons of screams filled the place.

“Anyone that comes to your mind?” Heeseung asked, and the screams became louder. Jay only laughed before he looked at the vocalist.

“How about you tell us your type Heeseung,” Jay changes the topic instead.

“My type?” Heeseung thinks about it for a minute, even though there’s someone on his mind right now. “My type is someone who’s mature and independent, but at the same time, I want to take care of her too.”

“That’s cute, it’s like you want her to be dependent on you,” the mc complimented, and Heeseung could only shyly nod. “How about you Sunghoon?”

“Mine is someone who’s hard-working and goal oriented, a little hard-headed but she’s cute when she’s too stubborn,” Sunghoon smiles.

“That’s oddly specific hyung, it’s like you’re describing someone,” Jungwon commented.

“He is actually describing someone,” Jay teases, and Sunghoon’s smile never fades as he looks at Jungwon.

“It’s your turn Jungwon, tell us your ideal type,” the keyboardist asked.

“My type?” Jungwon asked, grinning before he looked at the audience.

And for a minute, you’re sure that you and him made eye contact for a second. He smiles before shifting his gaze back to the crowd.

“I like someone who can put up with me,” he explains. “Someone that I can consider as my other half.”

“Yeah, we know someone who can put up with you,” Heeseung commented, and before you could even react Minju’s slapping your shoulder, scowling at her.

“What the fuck Minju,” you whispered-shout to her.

“Don’t deny it bitch, he’s talking about you!” your best friend teases, the same way Jungwon’s friends are teasing him on the stage.

“And? I’m not going to jump into it,” you rolled your eyes, but Minju’s laughter still lingered.

The segment continued on. The questions were random, like ranking their visuals or what they do if they weren’t in the band. You only follow through their interview as you tap away on your laptop, until they wrapped the interview and they went backstage to change.

A five minute break was given, which gave you subtle time to stretch your legs. You looked at Miss Jo’s message and she was happy because there’s a lot of engagement about Arcanum’s showcase. You searched for her at the tech booth, and as you made eye contact with her, your adviser only smiled and gave you a thumbs up.

Arcanum returned with their outfit changed, earning cheers from the crowd as they went to their respective places. It means that their performance showcase will start.

On Heeseung’s cue, he raises his right arm, a silent countdown to three, and the first strike on his guitar made the crowd scream loudly. You only sat there, astonished how they can control the crowd with such ease. 

Each member has their own charisma. It’s hard to not focus on just one member, but your eyes always end up on Jungwon who’s behind Heeseung, in his little world with his drums, playing along with the beat as their vocalist sings his heart out.

He’s truly born to perform on stage. You thought as your hands typed the sentence on your word file, eyes never leaving him.

They started with some of their old songs like “XO” and “Give me your forever.” They also covered a few songs, old covers that they’ve done back then.

They end their showcase with “Helium.” Everyone was screaming their hearts out. Heeseung and Jay were a great duo and their voices complemented each other. After the end of the song, they proceed to the center and do a final bow as a sign of gratitude. Waving goodbye to their fans before they move to another hall room where the hi-touch will be held.

You watched as one by one, everyone left the hall. You and Minju stayed there for a moment, not wanting to squeeze yourself at the crowd. You and Minju were busy looking at the photos she captured when you felt your phone vibrating.

“Hey Jiwon, what’s up?” you asked as soon as you answered the phone.

“You’re still in the theater hall? We're backstage, you want to carpool with us?” she asked. 

“If there’s space sure, I’m with Minju by the way,” you answered.

“Of course she can come — oh right! We’re having a house party at our place after this, want to come?” Jiwon said with excitement.

You glanced at Minju before separating your phone from your ears. “Hey, they’re having a house party at Jiwon’s place, you want to come?”

“Yeah I’m good, but can we please change our outfits? I want to look presentable,” Minju begs. She was wearing a baggy shirt and black slacks, a semi-formal combination which made you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, I think I need to take a short shower too,” you commented before returning to Jiwon. “Hey, we’ll just meet you at the party, I need to take a short shower while Minju wants to drop her camera at our dorm.”

“Alright, just let me know if you guys are on your way, the party’s exclusive, so a pass is required.” and with that, she hangs up. You let out a small chuckle before glancing at Minju.

“Let’s go have dinner first, I’m kinda starving,” you suggested as you two decided that it’s not crowded for you to leave.

“Yeah, so do I — anyways, let’s just drink moderately tonight.” Minju added, in which you agreed.

-

True to Jiwon’s words, the party was indeed exclusive. 

You’ve noticed the small crowd of people outside. Some are complaining how the party is for “Decelis Students” only. You didn’t even know that there was a party not until an hour ago. The details were probably given in secret.

You’ve texted Jiwon earlier that you’re on your way to their place. As you reached their gate, she was standing outside, holding her phone. You called out her name hoping that it’ll reach her despite the loud noise inside.

Jiwon immediately notices you and smiles, approaching you two, and giving you and Minju a hug. 

“I’m glad that you two are here!” she excitedly said, eyeing you and Minju. “Nice outfit by the way.”

You only gave her your thanks as she ushered you two inside their house — and there it was. 

A party to celebrate Arcanum’s debut. A house party filled with loud music, alcohol, and heat. The decorations were on point. Neon lights filled the place along with some balloons and party strings. You know that their parents are always away, so it’s not a surprise that they manage to throw a house party.

“You really went all out Jiwon,” you told her, who only smiled as you followed her towards the kitchen where the food and drinks were placed. 

“Cocktails? Beers? What do you want? Food? We have pizza and chicken poppers too!” the older girl excitedly said, making you glance at Minju.

“We’ll have the beer, thank you so much,” Minju only said. Jiwon grabs some cold bottles from the cooler, opening it for the two of you.

“Arcanum will perform around eight, you guys can wander anywhere and I’ll give you guys the privilege to go upstairs, just tell Sunoo and Jake that you’re with me,” Jiwon winks before leaving you two there alone.

You and Minju decided to just stay in the kitchen, stuffing yourself with food and beer while talking about the most random topics that you two could ever think about while judging the strangers passing by. Despite being an exclusive party, the place was still pretty crowded. 

Suddenly, the music stopped in the middle of your conversation. Both you and Minju glanced at the living room when you heard screaming from the crowd. 

“Hey Decelis, we’re back,” a familiar voice echoed through the huge house. That’s when you and Minju decided to go to the living and there they were. 

Set up in the middle of the living room was Arcanum. A smile on their face as they greet their fellow students. They’re met with nostalgia and fulfillment as they stand in front of the crowd.

“First of all, let me just give you all a short trivia about Arcanum and this place,” Heeseung started. “Let’s just say this place holds a lot of memories for our band. This place served as a space for us to practice our gigs and songs. Not only that, we laughed, cried, composed songs, and got passed-out drunk in this place. So it’s right that we celebrate our debut with a homecoming party here.” 

A few “awww” and claps enamored in the crowd, they were cheering for Arcanum and the members only smiled at the thought that there’s an overwhelming support from their alma mater. 

They all feel fulfilled. From performing earlier at the theater hall up to performing in front of their schoolmates inside the house that served as their practice room for years, the band couldn’t help but to be grateful for everyone. 

“Yeah, yeah, enough with the sappy shits, we’re here to party!” Jay interrupted, and the first strum of his electric guitar earned cheers from the crowd. They immediately controlled the crowd with a familiar song that hit the students with nostalgia.

You and Minju only stood there watching them despite having to watch them earlier at the showcase. Compared to their performance back then, the Arcanum in front of you is much more laid-back. Chill and free like it’s just their typical gig at The Rabbit Hole. It made sense that they’re more free when it’s just them performing in front of their fellow students.

Your eyes focused on Jungwon who’s too focused with the drums. Eyebrows scrunched yet expression laid back as he syncs along the beat, heavy and loud making him tilt his head upwards like he’s feeling the music. 

“I want you guys to sing along!” Heeseung shouted before he started singing the chorus. The crowd follows him, even Minju was screaming along the lyrics while you stood there, eyes never taking Jungwon off. 

The heavy feeling of seeing him earlier at the showcase, debuting as a musician, you couldn’t help but to feel a soft hitch on your heart. He’s out there finally achieving your dreams while you’re still far away from yours.

You’re not thinking about your rivalry with him at those moments. All you knew was that your heart was screaming how much you’re proud of him. Despite all the chaos you had to endure of interviewing the band the past few weeks, you couldn’t help but feel a small win — their article also felt like a big break for you. 

That’s why for once you let loose. You sang along to their songs, danced along with Minju, and drank as much beer as your tolerance could handle. It’s not surprising that you ended up a little bit tipsy by the end of Arcanum’s performance. Everyone was applauding for them as they took a final bow before greeting the crowd.

You and Minju decided to escape the crowd, the music started once again and the living room’s became pretty too crowded, partygoers had entered more than what it’s capacitated, so you and Minju went back to the less crowded kitchen to stuff yourself some food once again while talking about Arcanum’s performance. 

“I’m glad that we went here,” Minju said, making you glance at her. “Yeah me too,” you only smiled.

“We seldom have time to party, and now that we’re going to be much busier this year, I don’t know if I can handle more,” Minju started, making both of you fall into silence.

“Right, it’s going to be a hard year huh?” you laughed, making your best friend laugh too. Minju only raised her beer and so you clanked your beer against her before chugging it until the last drop.

“Should we try their mysterious cocktail drinks?” Minju suggested, eyeing on the huge pitcher towers that’s color red and blue. 

“Why not?” you agreed, grabbing clean red cups and pouring you two some drinks.

“Minju, hey,” the two of you turned when someone tapped your best friend’s shoulder, only to see a co-senior of yours, you forgot his name, but he looked nervous, almost embarrassed by the thought of standing in front of you two. 

“Hi,” your best friend greets, you can see how Minju’s expression softens, almost blushing — you raise an eyebrow as you observe them. 

“Uhm…can we talk? Maybe somewhere not noisy?” he mustered up the courage and you almost laughed on the spot because of how he stumbled on his own words.

“Well,” Minju glances at you, and you immediately catch it.

“It’s okay! Go on, I’ll be here Minju, or maybe upstairs, just text me okay?” you assured.

“You sure?”

“Babe, I know this place like the back of my hand, I’ll be safe here,” you assured, then you leaned against her and quietly handed her a sharp knife keychain you keep in your pockets. “Just making sure you’re safe.”

Minju only smiles at you before agreeing to him. You watched as Minju leaves with the boy. He seems to be really interested in her, so you let it be. Smiling because it might be your best friend’s potential love life.

It left you standing there awkwardly by the kitchen counter, sipping on the mysterious cocktail that tastes like sweetened pineapple with a tequila aftertaste. For a moment, you let the silence engulf you, too much overwhelmed by the crowd in the living room but when silence has been too noisy for you, that’s when you decided to step out of the kitchen — only to be bumped by someone. 

“Y/n?” 

Your eyes widened in surprise before a smile formed on your lips, “oh my god, Dohoon! How are you?” you excitedly said as you hugged Dohoon who only reciprocates your action. 

“Good, all good, how about you Ms. Editor-in-Chief?” he smiled as the two of you broke out of the hug.

“Well I’m doing great too, Mr. Soccer Team Captain,” you teased back. 

“I can’t believe that this is where we’ll see each other,” Dohoon said in disbelief and you only nod.

“Yeah, me too,” you only said, smiling at him as you took a sip from your cup.

You decided to stay inside the kitchen to accompany Dohoon who ditches his friend in the living room because he was hungry. You two ended up catching up after years of not seeing each other, which is funny because you two go to the same university but never saw each other. But it feels nice to hear how he has been, and it relieves you that he managed to save you from the awkward loneliness inside the party. 

You’re too busy talking to Dohoon that you failed to notice that Jungwon has been standing from afar, watching as you and Dohoon laughed and talked to each other like you two didn’t have a past. 

His sight darkens. Jungwon couldn’t believe that you had the guts to do it in his house. His eyes blinding with jealousy as the red cup on his hand tightens, almost spilling juices on his hands.

Jungwon gulps the cocktail from his cup, hoping that his jealousy might be washed off from the thirst, while his eyes never left yours — stomach knotting in an indescribable yet annoying feeling.

Jungwon knows he doesn’t have the right to feel that way, but he can't help it when his feelings have a strong control over him. He even tried to look away, but when he noticed from his peripheral vision that Dohoon leaned against you, his feet moved out of instinct. 

“Excuse me —” you two stopped when Jungwon stood in front of you two. “You two are in the way.”

Dohoon was the first one to realise that you two are by the cocktail counter. “Oh, sorry about that dude, congrats on your debut by the way.”

“Thanks,” Jungwon only said, not even batting an eye at the other male.

“Rude,” you mumbled under your breath. 

“What’s rude is that you two are on the way to the cocktail counter,” Jungwon fumed.

Dohoon seems to be taken back by Jungwon’s tone. Not trying to push further, he only gives you a small smile before he said, “it’s good to see you y/n again, let’s catch up sometime? Maybe have some tacos and burritos?”

“Just like before? Of course!” you excitedly said.

“Great, great, just set the date, and we’ll make it work,” Dohoon smiles before he bids goodbye to you. You waved back at him and as you watched him disappear into the crowd, Jungwon laughed mockingly which made you glare at him.

“You’re not a great host aren’t you?” you mocked Jungwon.

“And you’re flirting at my house,” Jungwon pointed out, taking a sip on his cup. “This is my party, you know? Why are you even here?”

“Jiwon invited me, you think I went here for you? Keep dreaming Won.”

“Well, I was hoping that you’ll show a little gratitude for me since I saved your ass by letting you interview the band for your article.”

“Oh right, almost forgot that, now if you excuse me, I’ll go look for Heeseung and thank him for agreeing with the interview.” you sarcastically replied, and before you could move, Jungwon had cornered over you. 

Your heart started beating fast, surprised that Jungwon’s almost an inch closer to your face. His eyes were dark and glaring, and you only stood there, not knowing where to go as the counter against your back was cold.

“Can’t believe you have the audacity to flirt with that guy,” he blurted out and his words struck you.

“Holy shit, are you jealous Yang Jungwon?” you snickered, smiling devilishly. “Why would you even be jealous of Dohoon? You don’t have the right to be jealous of him,” dainty fingers pointing at his chest until you shove him out of the way — and surprisingly, he lets you be. 

You exit the kitchen, ignoring Jungwon’s stabbing glare, as you enter the overcrowded living room. There weren’t enough to even pass by. Hot, sweaty bodies stuck together like glue, touching your arms and making you wince as you excuse yourself from the crowd. Some were still sane to give way while others were too rough to care.

“Shit!’ you cursed as someone’s drinks spilled on your blouse, they didn’t even notice that they bumped into you, probably too intoxicated. The cold, sticky alcohol spread on your body made you groan in annoyance. 

You managed to squeeze your way out of the crowd, just one second of bursting out of frustration because it was your favorite blouse, now it’s stained with red juice and it’ll be hard for you to remove it. 

“Oh my god, y/n are you okay?” you didn’t notice Jiwon approaching you, eyes glued on your disastrous blouse.

“Yeah, the crowd's too rough and someone spilled on me,” you only replied, not even batting an eye at them.  

“Go borrow some clothes from my closet, you can stay there too if you want I don’t mind,” she suggested, and you only nod to her words. 

“Thank you Jiwon.” you defeatedly said.

“No worries! I saw Minju is still talking with some guy outside, want me to tell her your whereabouts?” she offered and you only shook your head, not wanting to ruin your best friend or Jiwon’s night.

You climbed upstairs, greeting the guys that were there. You’re familiar with them and they seem to know that you’re close with the Yang siblings so they let you further down the hallway. 

You went inside Jiwon’s room. The walls painted baby pink and clean, smelling like the floral perfume she wears, and the silence only made you heave out a relieved sigh.

You began unbuttoning your blouse, discarding it and going towards the small bathroom inside her room. Washing off the stickiness that stuck on your skin as your eyes darted on your white bra, stained with red juice too. Great. Not only your favorite blouse is ruined, but also one of your newly-bought bras too. 

As you exit the bathroom, you jump out a mile when you see Jungwon sitting on Jiwon’s bed. Turning around and looking at you — noticing how his eyes darted down on your chest.

“What the fuck — get out!?” you shouted, covering your bra but Jungwon seems to be unfazed by it. 

“Quit acting like I didn’t see you in a bikini top,” Jungwon teased. 

You only rolled your eyes, “yeah that was five years ago when we were still friends — what the fuck are you even doing here? Get the hell out?”

Jungwon tilts his head amusingly, “we’re in our house, I can do anything I want.”

“Jungwon, seriously, get out or —”

“Here,” he said, and in a split second you managed to catch the thing he threw — a shirt of his. You only stare at it, cheeks heating up as you find the gesture sweet.

“You okay? You look like you’re about to cry earlier,” Jungwon said with a teasing tone, and the flustered feeling was immediately replaced with annoyance. 

“If you’re here to make fun of me, just get out,” you said. Throwing his shirt on the floor and going towards Jiwon’s closet. You opened the door where hundreds of shirts are folded neatly, you chose to pick up the first one on top when you felt a figure hovering over you. 

“Jungwon,” you warned, feeling his body way too close to yours. “Whatever you’re doing, fuck off.”

“You’re the one who’s assuming that I’ll do something,” Jungwon taunted, and slowly, he leaned down near your ear. “If you want me to, you’ll have to beg for it.”

You only rolled your eyes, but you can’t deny that there’s a heavy tension between the two of you. Jungwon’s right arm stretches on the side, trapping you one-sided which means he’s giving you the chance to walk away.

But you didn’t. You stood there frozen as you clutched on the shirt tightly. Deep inside the fire’s burning, your curiosity is fighting your pride along with your yearning. A simple touch from him, and you’ll feel like your knees will weaken. 

“Beg?” you mockingly asked, turning around to face him with a prideful expression. “I’d rather die than to beg.” 

“But you’re blushing babe,” Jungwon pointed out and that’s when you pushed him away. Large strides going towards the door when the male pushes it close. You didn’t even stand a chance against his strength.

“Come on, I’m just playing with you,” and you don’t know what’s got into Jungwon, all you know is that he reeks of alcohol and probably tipsy with his words. He’s close again. Way too close. And that only hitches your breath. Heart beating fast as the tension between you grew heavier.

“What do you even want, Jungwon,” you shouldn’t have said, you know what it meant. An invitation, a rhetorical question because both of you know where it leads. 

“You.”

You froze there when his lips landed on the side of your neck. Nibbling and leaving trails of his soft lips, both of his hands made their way to your waist, holding onto your soft skin as you held onto your breath.

“I’m not going to play with your games Jungwon,” you only said, eyes closing as you pray internally that he leaves you be. 

“Who said I’m playing with you?” he taunted between his kisses.

“You just fucking said it earlier.” you said with gritted teeth.

“And what if I’m serious right now?” Jungwon answered with a serious tone.

You weren’t able to say anything, you only stood there as Jungwon’s lips continued playing around your shoulder area.

“You want this too, you know?” he smirks behind you. “Because if you really don’t, you would’ve pushed me away. Cursed me, and left me hard and wanting for you.”

You didn’t answer his words, because he’s right — you’re just too prideful to admit it. You let him be, let his hands explore your body and lips leave marks on your skin.

You don’t know what happened, but the next thing you knew, he turned you around and his lips were on yours. 

Hungry. Craving. Jungwon’s devouring your lips like he’s been thirsting it for years. The years of his lingering feelings for you all burst out that night.

And so was yours. Because you kissed him back. Your lips locked on that infuriating asshole who used to be your other half now turned rival in everything because fuck, you’ve been yearning for it too. 

Your heart and mind were battling each other while your lips produced soft noises against Jungwon’s. Everything about it feels wrong, especially when you shouldn’t be going down with him.

You should’ve pushed him away, cursed at his face and left the place — but instead, your hands found its way on Jungwon’s hair, tugging on it harshly as his lips bites down on your lower lips, sucking at the skin while his hands squeezed your waist tighter. 

“In the end, you’ll give in too,” Jungwon smirks, both hands lifting you as he carries you towards the bed. Slamming you down with a soft thud, back hitting against the mattress while Jungwon quickly crawled over you, pulling you to another aggressive kiss as his knees pushed in between your thighs. 

“Fuck you Jungwon,” you could only breathe.

“We’ll get to that babe,” Jungwon taunted before he pressed his lips against yours once again.

Eyes closed, you lost yourself to Jungwon as the male started exploring your body. Rough, calloused hands feeling every exposed skin of yours until it drafts on your face, cupping your jawline as he separates from your lips. 

His lips trailed down on your neck, tilting your head for space as he began sucking the soft skin of yours. A breathy moan escapes your lips as Jungwon never stopped. Neck, collarbone, and even above your chest. Until everything is purple and marked like he has always wanted to do you for years.

“Mine,” he mumbled, barely hearing it before he lifted you to reach your back and unclasped your strap, only hovering it upwards and started fondling your firm breasts, fitting on his hands like a glove. 

“You should see yourself, writhing underneath me,” Jungwon spoke before he latches his mouth on one of your hardened nipples. Biting harshly making you yelp in pain as his hot, warm tongue played around it. 

“Asshole,” you mumbled against your moans as Jungwon continued the act. Sucking harshly on your nipples.

“This asshole is going to fuck you hard tonight,” he taunted. “Going to make you forget everything we had, until the only thing you can remember is how my cock fits inside you perfectly.” 

And those words only made you whimper as Jungwon’s hips moved against his own, grinding his clothed cock against yours. The rough friction of his pants against your panty were harsh yet it threw a tease for you two.

“You want it?” he teased. “You're gonna need your words babe.”

“Dream on Jungwon,” you replied with a gritted teeth. You’re still holding onto your pride. Your mind trying to rationalize that this is still wrong but fuck, your arousal’s starting to heat and the way Jungwon’s hips grind against you just gives you the urge to give in. 

“Your body says otherwise,” he grins, hands in between your thighs as he cups it despite the layered clothes. Whistling teasingly as his thumb somehow finds the spot, making you let out a small mewl which made Jungwon chuckle deeply. 

“Jungwon —”

“Come on, while I’m still being nice babe,” he coos, hand pressing against it. “You don’t want me being mean don’t you?”

And despite all the teasing, you still won’t give in. “Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

The next thing you knew, his hands were cupping your face tightly while the other hand landed a harsh slap in between your thighs, making you let out a loud yelp.

“What do I expect, you’ve always been a brat y/n,” he sneered. “But don’t worry babe, I’m going to fuck that attitude out of you.”

Jungwon didn’t waste any time. Harshly, he lifts up your skirt and kneed your legs wider, thanking you internally for giving him easier access. He looks at your clothed cunt, seeing the wet patch in the middle, he couldn’t help but to chuckle darkly as the tent inside him became more visible, begging to be freed. 

He leans against you once again, cupping your cheeks harshly as his lips crash on yours once again. Rough and forcing as his tongue swipes down your lips, fingers pressing the side making you whine loudly — giving Jungwon the opportunity to insert his tongue at you.

A shaky breath was all you could do as your hands finds it way towards Jungwon’s hair, tugging it harshly but instead of pulling him away from you, you could only hold on his hair for leverage, because as much as you know that this is wrong, you eventually gave in and want more of it. 

Your words fell flat the moment you let yourself indulge into the act. You find yourself moaning as you kiss him back, tongue battling against his as you tug his hair harder, making Jungwon moan against your lips. 

“See, you want this too, don’t you?” he laughs as he breaks out from the kiss. Calloused hands finding its way in between your thigh once again, just its light feathering made you let out a loudest sound inside the room. His finger fiddled with your panty’s waistband, tugging it until he had access to your cunt.

“Fuck already wet for me? You’re getting wet for your rival? See that, what will your pride say about you?”

You didn’t response to his words, but instead, you tugged his hair harder that he pulled away backwards — and he only laughs at your action because Jungwon fucking loves how you’re too prideful to not give in so you let your actions speak. 

And so does Jungwon, because he’s planning to make you give in to him that night. His fingers trailed against the lips of your core. It's wet and pulsating and it only sends chills towards the man. Hearing you holding back your moan, as he dips it further, sliding in and out like he was teasing you.

Jungwon finds your entrance, fingertips swirling against it and you unknowingly bucked your hips against it. 

He slid one finger inside, curling and pumping inside as your walls hugged his finger, eager for pleasure while his curiosity lingered so much. Pumping twice before he removes his finger and decides to lick your musk out of his fingers.

“Fuck,” Jungwon moans loudly, he wanted it. He can feel his dick twitching at your taste. He wanted to taste more of you that in a second, he’s kneeling in front of you, removing your panties completely and throwing it somewhere. 

It didn’t occur to you that Jungwon had dipped his head in between your thighs. Not until he licks your pussy in one large stripe, and fuck, Jungwon groans heavenly. Why do you taste so fucking good? He couldn’t help but to bury himself against your pussy as he continued to lick your entrance. Tongue protruding as he sucks it harshly, moaning against it while his hands grab both your thighs to stabilize you. 

“Jungwon!” you let out a scream as he focused on your clit. That little bud that had you writhing under his touch. Jungwon grazes his teeth against it, a curse escapes your lips as you look down and makes eye contact with Jungwon — leaving you in daze. 

He stared at you like a curious cat while he busied his mouth on your clit. Giving it kitty licks slow and teasing that it had you holding onto your breath.

“Look how easy you fell for me babe,” he smiled, giving your pussy soft kisses before devouring you once again. 

“Stop — Jungwon,” you mewled as you can feel your stomach tightening, your grip against the bedsheets tightens as Jungwon didn’t stop but instead, he became faster and rougher that another moan escapes your lips. 

You can feel your orgasm building up, you couldn’t help but to cry as you buck your hips upward to meet Jungwon’s tongue. It’s right there, everything just feels so good and you’re just in the right momentum —

Not until Jungwon stops, separating himself from your cunt dying down your orgasm, and leaving you sensitive and wanting. A whiny cry was all you can do as you watch him unbuckle his belt.

“You think I’ll let you cum babe?” he smirks at you. You can see his messed up face filled with your slick. “I’m not that easy.”

And instead of fighting back, your mouth lets out a small whine making him chuckle harder. 

“You’ll get to cum with my dick, you want that?” he said and you weren’t able to say another word. Jungwon frees his huge dick. Angry red and twitching, almost sensitive as he strokes it lightly while he approaches you like a predator.

“Come on, use your words,” he ordered.

“Yes,” you whimpered in defeat, and that obviously had glistened something lustful in Jungwon’s stare.

Jungwon hovered against you, breath steady as he aligned his hard cock on your entrance. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his tip glides up and down on your sensitive cunt. You hold onto his shoulder as Jungwon pushes his cock inside, sliding with ease as your walls welcome it. 

“You’re so tight,” Jungwon moaned before he started moving his hips. “So fucking tight for me, your pussy’s sucking me like it doesn’t want my cock to leave you.”

Tears started to fall from your eyes. Breathy moans escaping your lips as Jungwon continued to thrust harshly, rough almost bruising your hips, holding it with his firm hands. You could only take his cock whole, filling you full and reaching your deepest parts.

“Oh my god — Jungwon —” you stifled a moan when Jungwon reached down and started playing with your tits once again. Fondling and biting the erected bud while his hips never stopped its movement. It only led you to becoming more sensitive. Too fucked-up to sink in that Jungwon, your sworn rival is fucking you hard.

“Look at you babe, already fucked-up? Whoever thought you'd be dumb when a cock’s pounding inside you?” Jungwon teases, thrust sharp and calculated, every slide stabs your cervix, gliding through your spot that tears continue to flow.

“What a gorgeous mess,” he whispered to himself as Jungwon wiped the tears trailing down your cheeks. “A crying mess for me, want me to ruin you more?”

You weren’t able to answer his question when he started to pound inside you once again, earning shaking whines from you, legs wanting to escape his hold but Jungwon’s too strong for you. He holds you tightly underneath, expression proud and ego swelling to see you ruined under him.

“Answer my question,” Jungwon commanded. “Come on, you can still make up some words slut, or are you too fucked out to say because of my cock?”

You writhe from his touch, “please —” you stuttered out. It’s the only thing you could think of, especially when you’re on the edge of orgasm. As much as you hated your situation, you also wanted to at least get something from it. 

“Beg harder babe, I’m not that easy.”

“Fuck, ruined me Jungwon! Do whatever you want!” you shouted, and that only gave him the signal to thrust harder, harsher that his fingernails are dipping hard on the flesh of your thighs.

“Oh don’t worry babe,” he grins at you. “I have every intention of ruining you.”

“Jungwon —” a whimper escapes your lips as you can feel your stomach churning, “please I want to cum.”

“That’s what I want from you,” Jungwon sneered. “Begging to cum? Can’t do that without me? Since I’m being good, you can cum babe. Show me that you’ve cum because of me.”

His thrust became sharper, stabbing the right spot endlessly that it’s slowly coiling your insides, your walls becoming tight, hugging Jungwon’s cock and making him groan out of pleasure. Your warm flesh trapping his dick as he fucks you continuously.

You cum silently. Body shaking, tears falling as a muted cry escaped your lips, eyes shut as Jungwon continued his movement. Fucking you through orgasm until your pushing him away. 

“Stop — please,” you only begged but your words didn’t even reach Jungwon’s ears. He mercilessly pounded on you until he could feel his dick twitching, and body becoming hotter.

“Fuck —” Jungwon pulls out in a second, hands stroking his dick as he washed through his orgasm. Painting you with his cum, traces of semen tainting your body just like what Jungwon had intended.

You took deep breaths, body slowly coming down as you felt yourself weary and tired, eyes drowsy like Jungwon had sucked all your energy out. It didn’t help that you had a tiring day too, that’s why you couldn’t help but to close your eyes for a moment.

But in a minute, you felt Jungwon’s arms grabbing you by your hips, too tired to fight back you only let out a small whimper when he flipped your body, stomach pressing against the sheets as you felt his body hovering over you. 

“Tapping out so early? Come on, we only had one round,” Jungwon taunted, before slapping your ass cheeks, making you moan quietly. 

“Fine, get some rest babe,” he defeated, planting a kiss on your temple before he moved near your ears. “But I’m not done yet with you, we’re just getting started.”

-

You woke up with your head throbbing and body aching. 

A loud groan escapes from your lips as you sit up from the bed — that’s when you realized that the walls were navy blue and the interiors were different. 

You’re in Jungwon’s room alone. You remembered last night’s chaos, and you find yourself wearing the shirt Jungwon had given you along with some large boxers. You glanced at the bedside and saw your ruined clothes folded, that’s when it reminded you of last night’s disaster. 

You couldn’t even remember what happened after. All you know was that you and Jungwon had sex, and if he had fucked you again after, you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to get the hell out of his room.

You grabbed your phone beside your clothes, opening it to see any notifications. But one notification stands out from the rest. A few missed calls from a classmate of yours. You couldn’t help but to press her number once again and after a few rings, she answered it. 

“Oh my gosh y/n, please tell me you’re on your way!”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “on my way? what do you mean?”

“Did you read the groupchat? The interview was moved to today at 10 am! They had a last minute announcement last night. I know the party was last night but did Jungwon inform you?”

“Wait — are you serious?” you asked, stumbling down on your own feet, you can feel your heart rapidly beating fast. “Why — why would they even move it to today!?”

“I don’t know either! It still hasn’t started yet, but I feel like you can make it, just go!”

The call ended and you can feel your heart beating fast. You glanced at your phone and it’s nine-twenty am. The supreme court’s half an hour away and if you’re fast, you can make it with just a few minutes of tardiness.

But you’re unprepared. You haven’t had practice yet, and you know you couldn’t go to an interview unprepared. It’ll mess up your mind. You don’t even have any of the requirements with you. Your mind’s still throbbing and the remnants of last night’s alcohol is dried up on your throat.

Yet, you’re desperate. You need to get on that interview — you badly need to secure it or else, your future will crumble. 

“Fuck it,” that’s the only you could say as you left Jungwon’s room. You didn’t care to find his whereabouts. Hurriedly, you went towards the room in front of you, knocking so loudly that you know you’re disturbing their sleep. 

“Y/n —”

“Jiwon, I’m sorry, I know it’s too early in the morning but they moved the interview for the internship today and I need to go there right now! I just need some clothes and can I borr—”

“Calm down yn, calm down, I’ll lend you some of my smart casuals and heels. Do you want to wash up for a few minutes? Or —”

“I just need to be there before ten or maybe a few minutes late, Jiwon, you know how important this is to me.” you cried, voice almost pleading.

“Don’t worry babe, go! Wash up at least, I’ll wake Heeseung up to drive you to the supreme court, I’ll prepare the clothes,” Jiwon instructed, giving you the signal to go to the bathroom.

After washing up for a short time, patting some light makeup, and changing into clothes Jiwon lent to you, the two of you scrambled downstairs. That’s when you noticed that their other friends stayed over to sleep in the living room. All are in their daydream, not even noticing the chaos you brought so early in the morning. 

On the way towards the supreme court, you couldn’t help but to bite onto your nails. The music coming from the speaker wasn’t helping at all. You’re nervous, and it’s stressing you out. Your heart is going to burst any moment and it’s no help that it’s already ten in the morning. 

You don’t know what to blame. The program for the sudden change of schedule or you who didn’t bother opening her phone last night because you’re too busy with Jungwon. You wanted to curse yourself too. If you have pushed him away, then maybe you could’ve seen the announcement.

“Relax y/n,” Jiwon softly smiled. “Don’t cry now, it’ll ruin your mascara.”

“What if I fuck up Ji?” you nervously replied.

“No you will not,” the older female assured. “You can ace this one!”

“I hope so,” you only said with a worried tone. “This is a life and death situation.” 

You arrived at the Supreme Court an hour later. It didn’t help that the traffic was jam-packed that day. Parking on the side, you could only scream your gratitude towards the couple before scurrying your way inside the building. 

“Good luck!” Jiwon shouted, not minding that you didn’t turn around to wave back to them. 

Heeseung drove away as soon as you entered the building, passing by the hundreds of cars parked outside, as Jiwon darted her attention on the view outside.

“Babe, isn’t that your family car?” Heeseung asked out of blue. Jiwon glanced at the direction of Heeseung’s stare and was surprised to see a familiar red car parked nearby. Jiwon’s eyes followed through it, squinted hard to read the plate. 

“Huh?” Jiwon muttered. “What the hell is Jungwon doing here?”

You were walking fast inside the empty hallway. Catching your breath as you turned left and you immediately saw your classmates by the waiting area. As soon as they saw you, they were surprised but a sorry look was all they could give — that’s when you knew.

“It’s finished,” it was the only thing they could say as soon as you approached them. That’s when you felt your heart crashing into thousands of pieces. 

“Seriously?” you asked, hoping that it’s not true and the interview is still on-going. You were begging inside. Please. Just one chance.

“Yeah, they had deliberated who they’re going to choose, it was a quick process that’s why it’s a bit unfair too.” another one commented.

“Is it really finished? Seriously? What the hell, that’s unfair!” you frustratedly shouted, and they could only agree with you.

They explained to you that the other sections also weren’t able to get the interview. What all they can agree on is that the court was busy, that's why they couldn’t spare time interviewing interns. 

“If that’s the reason, why did they even open the program in the first place?” you complained, and they could only agree with your worries. Exclaiming their frustrations while you’re still processing the thought. 

“Who got the slot?” you asked suddenly. 

All of them looked at each other wary, before answering. “Jungwon got it.”

There it was. Like a bullet straight to your heart. You can feel yourself tensing up, mind blanking as his name came out of their name.

No way. 

“He told me…he’s not going to try because he’s going to be busy —” then it hit you. Like a knife deepening on your chest.

Jungwon lied to you. He cheated his way towards the internship. He made you confident that you’ll get the slot when he forfeited.

He swore a promise to you and he broke it. Yang Jungwon broke his promise to you.

He probably knew last night that the schedule was changed, but he didn’t tell you about it, and instead distracted you and lured you to where you are right now. He sabotaged everything that you’ve prepared for.

“Where is he?”

“I think he went to the restroom, it’s on the other side of the hallway.” 

“Excuse me.”

Your footsteps were heavy, heels clicking and making noise against the marbled tiles. Your heart was fuming with anger and betrayal, your mind was filled with nothing but a mouthful of curses and thinking how big of an asshole Jungwon was. 

And beneath those, your hands are shaking and lips are trembling. You can feel your eyes starting to get watery and you’re holding it back — you’re not going to cry because of Yang Jungwon. No fucking way. 

And there he was. You can feel your heart stop as he looks at you, bored expression and relaxed with his hands on his slacks pocket — and that pisses you even more. Hurriedly, you strided over him, grabbed him by the collars and pushed him against the wall as your raging eyes stared at him. 

“You told me, you’re not going to join the internship — you promised me!” your shout echoed against the empty hallway. Your tears started to flow while Jungwon remained cold with his stare. 

“How does it feel? Getting betrayed by your best friend? Getting lied to by them? Hurts right?” Jungwon asked instead, tone filled with bitterness. Like he’s been bottling his years of resentment to you. 

You looked at him confused. For a moment, you didn’t understand what Jungwon meant. Too stunned with the fact that he broke his promise — then it hit you. The years of him beating you at every competition. Your rivalry with him, the neverending game of each other’s pride. It all makes sense now.

“Is this because I rejected you? You’re still hung up about it? Jungwon, that was years ago!” you shouted at him.

“It’s not about the fact that you rejected me, it’s the fact that you dated Dohoon weeks after you rejected me!” Jungwon shouted back, and that made you freeze.

The hand on his collar loosened, realizing that he had found out. Jungwon looks at you with the same stare that he had given you when you rejected him. Eyes wide and angry, while the bitterness dripped on his tongue, like he was holding it back for years. 

“You think I don’t know? You think you can hide from me that Dohoon asked you out a week before graduation? Why didn’t you think I confessed to you all of the sudden? And then you fucking lied to me that you’ll prioritize your study — only for you two to officially become a couple a week after graduation.” Jungwon argued.

“Jungwon, I don’t want to hurt you —”

“You hurt me more when you lied to me, I can accept it y/n if you don’t have feelings for me!”

“I’m sorry Jungwon, I was young and I was just so scared of losing you.”

“Well, you already did. I’m your best friend y/n, I’ll understand if that’s all you see in me, but you chose to hide it from me,” Jungwon sighed.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’m sorry that I was so oblivious about your feelings to me,” you confessed. “I’m sorry Jungwon, I really am. Whatever Dohoon and I had, it’s just a passing feeling. It didn’t even last that long, because throughout, all I could think of is that I hurt you.” 

“It’s too late y/n, the damage has been done.”

“Did I really hurt you that much? Were you hurting so much that all you can think of was competing against me?” you bitterly asked.

“Yes,” Jungwon coldly replied. “You think this is just something silly? I have loved you since we were kids y/n, don’t you know that? Why are you so oblivious to my feelings for you?”

“I don’t know!” you shouted back. “And I’m sorry if I was too oblivious to notice, but did it really have to go this far Jungwon? You promised me! And I know you Jungwon, you never break promises but all for it was just an act so that you can get back to me!”

“Maybe you don’t know me anymore y/n, we’re not friends anymore y/n, have you forgotten that?”

You stopped. Realization hitting you that he’s right. You two aren’t friends anymore. He’s your sworn rival now. Nothing more, nothing less. The small hope that you’re holding on — the one that you wanted to hold on until your hands bleed finally decided to let go at that moment.

“So, this is my karma for breaking your heart.” you started, looking at him with glassy eyes and trembling lips. “Happy now? Seems like you're satisfied that you’ve ruined the only opportunity for me to get into law school.” 

You saw how Jungwon’s eyes widened. Of course, he doesn’t know about this part, and it felt just right not to tell him — even if it means ruining some opportunities for you. Jungwon didn’t say a word. For the first time ever, he wasn’t able to articulate words when tears started to form on your eyes. 

“I quit Jungwon, you won, congratulations, I hope you got what you wanted,” you only said. And with that, you walked away from him. While he stood there, watching you disappear from his sight — just like before.

-

Quietly, Jungwon went home with a heavy heart.

The once noisy and crowded house is now filled with silence that felt so eerie as he entered the living room. Everything’s clean now and back to the way it was. Except, Jiwon’s by the couch, watching some series and as soon as her younger brother is within her vicinity, she closes the television. 

“Yang Jungwon,” Jiwon said with a serious tone, standing up which made Jungwon stop. 

“Not now noona —” 

“What you did was wrong,” she crosses her arms, tone cold and serious, and Jungwon hates it. It was rare for his older sister to be this angry. “So wrong, you destroyed y/n’s dreams, are you happy now?”

“So you’re siding with her?” Jungwon scoffed. 

“I am siding with no one, but what you did was too much,” Jiwon pointed out. “You could’ve just — I don’t know, break her heart the same way she broke yours but this one? You don’t even care about law school! You’re in a band Jungwon, but y/n? She needs that internship because it’s her stepping stone on becoming a lawyer, and you just stole it from her.”

Frustrated, Jungwon could help but to shout. “Rub it on my face, go on! I was a jerk, an asshole I admit it!”

“Oh I will because I didn’t teach you to be a selfish jerk Jungwon!” Jiwon shouted back. “I didn’t mind that petty competition you and y/n have, I thought that it’s just an academic thing but this has gone too far! Why do you have to do that Jungwon?”

Jungwon falls under a deep silence. He doesn’t know. Really. He doesn’t know why he did it. He thought it’ll ease the grudge that he was holding against you. But it only felt like he had broken your heart once again. 

“She hurt me noona.” That was the only thing he could say.

“Unintentionally, she didn’t know about your feelings, and you’re the one who walked away first from your friendship.”

“She lied to me, how many times do I have to tell you that? She told me that she’ll be prioritizing her studies only to find out that she’s dating someone.” Jungwon argued back.

“And she regrets it,” Jiwon countered. “Everyday, she wished that she didn’t date Dohoon because she realized that she’s just infatuated with him, and all she can think about is how it ruined her friendship with you. Do you even know that there’s not a day where she still wishes to be friends again with you?”

“You think that’ll make me feel better?”

“It should be Jungwon, because I’m giving you reasons, but you, you’re still holding onto your grudge and pride. Jungwon, nothing will happen if you keep holding onto that. You’ll just keep on blocking every opportunity for you to mend your relationship with y/n,” Jiwon lets out a deep sigh before approaching her younger brother.

“You’re not blocking her because you don’t want your feelings to get hurt again. It’s just that you don’t want your pride to be stepped on again.”

Jungwon didn’t rebut his sister’s words. Too frustrated to answer back because Jiwon’s right. It’s not about his feelings anymore. It’s about his pride — it’ll only ruin him to lower his pride especially when he’s the one who started it in the first place.

Until the very end, he chose his pride but after everything, it didn’t feel like he won at all. It felt useless for him.

“I’m going to y/n, just stay here and don’t do anything stupid.” Jiwon excuses, glancing at Jungwon who only had his head low.

With the small shut of the door, Jungwon was met with nothing but utter silence that killed him slowly.

Outside the house, Jiwon lets out a breathy sigh. Disappointment written all over her face as she hugged on her jacket lightly before walking towards your dorm. This is what she’s afraid of. Your rivalry going too far that it’ll end up hurting someone. 

Jiwon hates it. She could’ve prevented it, but she chose to be a bystander, because she thought you two are mature enough to handle it. But it looks like she’s wrong. 

As she turns right to your dorm, Jiwon immediately notices that you’re outside your dorm. Talking to someone over the phone. Your eyes and nose were red from crying, streams from your tears dried on your cheeks while you’re still wearing the clothes she lent you. 

Jiwon approaches you quietly, enough not to disturb your call. She was about to tap your shoulder when she froze to hear your words. 

“Y/n,” it was the only thing she could say, and that stopped you. Turning around and surprised to see Jiwon standing in front of you shocked.

“Jiwon,” 

“Tell me it’s not true?” she asked in disbelief. “You’re moving to the states?”

And the only thing you could do was smile at her bitterly. “I’m sorry.”

-

You and Jungwon became strangers ever since that day.

No more rivalry, no more competitions, or nonsense banters. The results were obvious — Jungwon won. He got the internship and instead of being grateful about it, it only left a heavy pressure on him — especially when he’s going to balance it along with his career and studies. All for it so that he could get back to you.

You, on the other hand, blended within the walls. Jungwon had observed it. How you become eerily quiet, listening to the professors, and only answering questions when called. You tried to distract yourself, spending more time in the club room, finishing the article along with your other duties.

It’s ironic but Jungwon wondered how you were. There was one time he saw you talking to Atty Yoon. It was serious talk and his curiosity itched, he wondered what it’s all about. He wanted to badly ask you, but he knows that he doesn’t have the right to — and this time, he distanced himself for you.

The rest of the members noticed how Jungwon’s out of his mind during practice. He insists that he’s fine, but the three older members know that he’s hiding something, and it probably involves you. 

So they took it upon their hands, and cornered him. 

“Okay, what the hell is this?” Jungwon asked, crossing his arms as he looked at his friends one by one. 

“It’s an intervention,” Sunghoon stated, and Jungwon groaned in response. 

“Not you three too,” he could only complain. 

“I think it’s the right thing to do because we don’t hurt girls here Jungwon,” Heeseung pointed out.

“I don’t even know whether to take you seriously or not.”

“No, seriously, we’re here to give you advice, man to man,” Jay said in a serious tone before looking at the younger male. “What you did was an asshole move, but before we dive into that, we want to hear your side first.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, open up! Just tell us everything starting from the very start.” Jay gestured. “No judgement, no opinions until you finish your story, we’ll listen and we don’t judge.”

“He means it,” Heeseung added. 

Jungwon could only let out a sigh. Frustratedly, he brushes his hair before telling his side. 

“I love her,” he started, surprising the three with his words. “When we were kids, it was just a small crush, an infatuation. She was pretty, kind, and she stands up for what's right. We were together almost all the time. It surprises me that we’re closer than she and noona, but we’re just inseparable. She — she even convinced her parents for her to study in Decelis High School because she doesn’t want to be separated from me.”

He looks at his band mates who are attentively listening to his story. “Is it bad that I gave meaning to it? She stayed because she didn't want to be separated from me. She didn’t mind traveling an hour and half back and forth just to study at Decelis, and that’s because of me, how can I not give meaning to it?” 

Sunghoon was about to speak up but Heeseung had clasped his hand on the keyboardist’s mouth. Jungwon didn’t seem to notice as he’s too deep into his worries. 

“That made me love her more, and I thought I stood a chance on her. I thought it’ll be those cliches that we were friends who like each other but are just too afraid to ruin their friendship, so no one confesses.” Jungwon lets out a deep sigh. “But in the end, she only sees me as her best friend.” 

Jay winces at the words, while Sunghoon could only comfort his hurting self. Heeseung being the one who’s serious at Jungwon’s story, gestures to him to continue. 

“I made a mistake, I was wrong, that’s all I know. When I learned that Dohoon confessed to y/n a week before graduation, I was scared that he’ll take her away from me.” Jungwon then remembers that day. That afternoon in the empty classroom, his confession, your rejection, and the fact that the bracelet is still hidden deep in his closet meant that he’s still holding on to you.

“My confession was sudden, I know that. That’s why I am prepared for rejection, I just want to dump my feelings on her. But hearing her excuse, I couldn’t help but be angry” the frustrating feelings washes over him again. “First, it’s because she didn’t tell me that Dohoon confessed to her, we’re friends right? Why did she keep it a secret from me? Second, because she gave me a shallow reason why she turned down my confession. Studies first? Who the fuck will believe to those?”

“I do,” Heeseung couldn’t help but to butt in, earning glares from the three. “Look, sorry I know we don’t judge in this intervention, but some people do prioritize their studies and think that relationships can be a distraction.”

“You’re missing the point hyung,” Jay rebutted. “She lied to Jungwon, it’s a white lie because she didn’t want to hurt Jungwon, she doesn’t want to reject him with the reason that she doesn’t feel the same way.”

“And instead of accepting it like a real man, you decided to be petty and turned her reason for you two to become academic rivals?” Sunghoon asked, a scoff of disbelief following afterwards. 

“I felt betrayed,” Jungwon defended. “I don’t need her to think about my feelings, I can accept it if she doesn’t like me back! Why did she need to lie to me?”

“Jungwon, you mean so much to her that she doesn’t want to lose you, that’s why she did that,” Heeseung explains calmly. An assuring smile forms on the eldest lips. “Maybe a part of her thought that you’ll understand if she said that reason.” 

“But instead, you made it into a rivalry,” Sunghoon butts in. “Did it ever cross your mind why you resorted to that plan?”

“I was immature, I want her to prove to me that she was telling the truth even though I know that it’s just a lie,” Jungwon huffs out. “I was hurt, and seeing her getting frustrated and angry because I beat her at every competition, it fuels my pride. It just proves to me that I was right, but —”

Jungwon freezes midway. “Back in there, in the supreme court, I know I crossed the line. I know it was too much. We made a promise, that she’ll give us good publicity in exchange, I won’t participate in the internship. I lied, I cheated, and I got the slot, the thing that she was aiming for. I thought she would just be mad at me, curse me like she always does but she cried — she cried because of me.”

“Okay maybe this is the part that we judge,” Jay interrupted. “Jungwon, you broke your promise to her.”

“I did,” Jungwon said in defeat. “I did, I lied just like what she did.”

“She lied because she doesn’t want to hurt you, you lied because you want to hurt her, there’s a difference, Jungwon,” Sunghoon pointed out, and that only had sunken Jungwon’s shoulders. 

“Well, you finally beat her right?” Heeseung sarcastically interjected. “Are you happy with it now? Is the grudge on your heart gone now?”

No. It never left. In fact, the pain became deeper. He felt guilty. His grudge never left and it only left Jungwon mad at himself, especially when he knew that he had gone too far. 

But he couldn’t do anything about it. Not when he doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t know how to approach you either. It’s like the more you two meet, the more you two hurt each other — and that thought pains him. You two used to be glued together, but now? You two can’t be in the same room anymore.

“It just hurts me more,” Jungwon could only say. “I don’t know what to do anymore, noona’s mad at me, and I’m sure you guys are disappointed with me.”

“Yeah, you did too much Jungwon,” Jay heaves out a sigh. “But we still wanted to be there for you, the only thing you should do is to turn things right.” 

“Talk. You two should talk and just communicate,” Sunghoon added. “It’s important to clear things up.”

“How can I? She’s avoiding me.”

“I think she had enough of you Won,” Heeseung defeatedly said. “I think you need to give her space, let her heal the wounds. It’ll just hurt you two more if you two immediately talk to each other.”

“I wish it’s easy,” Jungwon said. You’re like a breath of life for him. He couldn’t stand being away from you despite the anger he’s holding on to. He knows he’s conflicted, but deep inside he is still yearning for you. 

“If you really love her, you’ll let go of her Won,” Heeseung shared. “Right now, your pride and heart are fighting with each other, you have to let go of one thing.” 

-

The newspaper fell flat on top of the coffee table. Jungwon, who seems to be busy with his task, stops and glances at it. 

There they are. Front page of the university newspaper. A whole page on page four will be dedicated to them, and only about them. 

“I hope you’re happy now Jungwon-ah,” Jiwon said with a serious tone while the younger male focused his attention towards the article. 

You stuck to your promise that you’ll give them a good exposure — and you did. The article was concise and catchy. You highlighted their journey starting from being a university band shifting into an independent one, and now here you are, a mainstream band.

Despite being the youngest in the band, Yang Jungwon from the Department of Law seems to be able to catch up with the older members. Impressively, he’s even ahead of them. He controls every song and beats with his drums, a huge backbone of the band, considered as the last puzzle piece of Arcanum.

He continued reading his section — realization hitting him like being poured with a bucket of ice. Even after everything he had done to you, you still made sure that Arcanum’s image won’t be in a bad light. 

Why would Jungwon be happy? Two weeks had passed and his sister’s mad at him, his friends were disappointed with his actions, and he broke your heart, again. He still doesn’t know how to approach you. The only thing he could hold on was his pride. But what’s to hold on when you two are strangers now?

“I am not,” it was the only thing Jungwon could say.

“Good,” Jiwon spat. “You deserve it.”

“How long are you going to villainize me?”

“Long until y/n forgives you,” the older girl said, before grabbing her phone. “But I guess that won’t happen because you still couldn’t face her like a real man.”

“Quit it, you’re just like Sunghoon-hyung,”

“Then stop moping around and face her,” Jiwon nagged. “Before everything is too late and she’ll be gone for good.”

Jungwon halted, his ears deafening at his older sister’s words. 

“What do you mean?”

Jiwon didn’t answer. 

“Noona, what the fuck do you mean?”

“She’s leaving Jungwon,” Jiwon stated, and Jungwon felt his heart dropping on the floor. “She’s continuing her studies in the states, and she doesn’t know when she will return or not. It depends on the future.”

“I don’t know that — she didn’t told me that.”

“Why would she tell you that Jungwon? Why would she tell the guy who she lost her internship to, that she’s migrating to the states? She’ll be scared that you might do it too just to beat her out of it,” Jiwon sarcastically replied, and that deepened the stab in Jungwon’s heart. 

“When was this?”

“A few weeks ago,” Jiwon shared. “It’s a great scholarship deal but she’s hesitating because it’s in the states, she’ll struggle to adapt. The internship was her sign, if she doesn't get in, she’ll accept it.” 

Jungwon didn’t say a word. No wonder you reacted that way when he got the slot. You need it. It’s the only thing that will make you stay here.

“She doesn’t want to leave you Jungwon,” Jiwon bitterly smiles, thinking about her friend who’s leaving for good. “Even if you were an infuriating asshole, she didn’t want to pursue it, but you outdid yourself this time Won.”

Shit. Jungwon curses. There’s no way. He’s not going to let you leave the country. He has to do something about it.

“I got to go,” Jungwon could only say, standing up from his seat and leaving the house in an abrupt manner. 

Jiwon knows that she’s not in the right position to tell but she knows you two. She had witnessed your friendship grow and crumble throughout the years. She was there, watching your rivalry unfold and quickly be ruined again. She’s not going to let you leave with a heavy heart — and her younger brother wondering why you suddenly disappeared. 

Jungwon stood outside your dorm apartment. He’s been constantly bugging you, calling you nonstop, almost begging for you to talk to him. He stood there for an hour before you decided that he’s not going to leave unless you show up, so with the remaining pride you had in you, you decided to go down and face him. 

“What did I hear from noona?” Jungwon angrily asked, the moment you're near him.

You didn’t say a word but instead, you stood there as Jungwon stared at you like you had betrayed him once again. 

“You’re leaving for states? You’re not going to wait until graduation? Do you really hate me that much?” he asked almost in disbelief. 

Of course. You only think. Jiwon’s going to tell him. You don’t know whether to be mad at the older girl but you let it slide. You know that she told him so that you two could finally talk, to clear things up and perhaps, for you to leave the country without holding any grudge against Jungwon. 

After all, everything about this is about you now — not about Jungwon, not about your rivalry with him. It’s not to shove to him that you’re going abroad to study and he couldn’t. No more games and petty competition that was created due to an immature reason. Everything about this is for your future.

“This isn’t about you anymore Jungwon, nor is it about whatever competition we have,” you only exhaled. “This is about me and my future, and I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for you.”

“No,” Jungwon firmly said. “You can’t leave, don’t leave —”

“Why? So you could continue our rivalry? Jungwon, you’ve won, you got the internship! Is that not enough for you!?” 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Jungwon answered instead. “Please, don’t go, please stay…stay with me, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize now that everything you’ve done caught up to you. If I stay, what good will it become for us? We’re only hurting each other Jungwon.”

“We can start all over again, please, I’m sorry —”

“Jungwon, it’s not easy for me to just get over it and start over again,” You let out a deep sigh before looking at him. “I made some mistakes too, I’m sorry for breaking your heart Jungwon —”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence when Jungwon pulls you to a tight hug, arms wrapped around you that you freeze from your place. “I don’t care about that anymore, please, just don’t leave me.”

You could only close your eyes, tears falling as Jungwon’s warmth engulfs you. You hate it. You hate how despite everything Jungwon has done to you, you still miss your best friend so much. You missed his touch, his warmth, and the comfort his hugs gave you. 

“This is for my future Jungwon,” you repeated. “I wouldn’t have done this if only I got the internship.”

“I’m sorry, please —” Jungwon stuttered through his words. All his pride crumbled down in a snap, he was almost kneeling in front of you as the guilt had become heavier than the anger he had towards you. “Please don’t leave me, I’ll decline the internship, I’ll make sure you’ll get the spot.”

“It’s too late Jungwon,” you only said, and before he could say anything, you broke out from the hug. “I don’t see a reason for me to stay, my parents are moving too. We had already hurt each other. I think it’s best that we keep our distance from now on.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungwon apologized. “I’m sorry for ruining our friendship. For being an asshole to you, and stealing your internship after I made a promise. I’m sorry.”

“I have forgiven you a long time ago, Jungwon,” you consoled. “But the more I see you, the more I’m hurt because I regret not reciprocating your feelings for me — and it took me a year to realized that I love you, and I miss my best friend so much, and I was holding on to our petty competition because it’s the only way I could get close to you again, even if our pride is getting in the way for us to communicate properly.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Jungwon breathes. “Why now? When you’re leaving?”

“Because even though I love you, I’m still hurting Jungwon,” you explained. “And I need space, I need a place on my own — a life without you.”

“There’s nothing I can do to make up your mind?” he pleaded desperately.

“Nothing.”

Jungwon became quiet. That’s when he knew that your decisions were final. Nothing can change your mind, not even if he kneeled there and bled himself dry. He had hurt you deeply that you had to distance yourself from you.

“What happened to us Jungwon?” you asked. It was the question that you’ve long to ask him for years. “Why did everything lead to this?”

“It’s me,” Jungwon said in defeat. At that moment, he chooses his love over his pride. “It’s my fault, I was immature — scared that the only person I love will be gone. The funny thing was, she did, but it’s because of me.”

“Now, you really are going to be gone, I pushed you away, again, just like back then,” Jungwon mumbled. “I never thought it'd happen again.”

You only stared at him, “it’s for the best Jungwon. Maybe, it’s meant for us to end up this way.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungwon huffs. “We were inseparable back then, we…we could’ve been more than friends —”

“If only I'd realized it sooner,” you bitterly smiled. “I’m sorry Won, I’m sorry because I was too dumb to realise that my best friend’s in love with me — that I’m also in love with him.”

“Is your love for him not enough to outweigh the hurting feeling?” 

You only nod, defeated, Jungwon didn’t say a word.

“Can I hug you?” Jungwon pleaded, thinking that tonight will probably be the last time he’ll get to talk to you. “Please, one last time?”

“Okay,” it was the only thing you could say before Jungwon pulled you to a bone-crushing hug. You rested your head on his chest as he tightly held you, not wanting to let you go, head resting on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I love you so much,” Jungwon cried. “I’m sorry if I hold onto my anger and pride, I’m sorry —”

“I’m sorry too, Jungwon.”

“Please, stay…I’ll distance myself from you, just stay here.” he persuaded once again.

“I’m sorry, my decision’s final.”

And the only thing you could hear was Jungwon soft cries as he buried himself to you, muffling his cries on your shoulder as tears fell from yours too. 

-

Epilogue.

“You’re listening to 101.3 mixed up radio station, here we are with the hottest band in the scene, Arcanum!” the voice echoed through the radio station.

Behind the scene, the camera director signaled that the cameras were rolling. The DJ, Boo Seungkwan nodded as he smiled at the four guys sitting in front of him. Huge microphones in front of them, as they smiled nervously.

They introduced themselves one by one. Smiling despite being deep inside, they’re nervous for their first live radio guest. The DJ was cheerful and light to talk with. He makes sure that every member gets to answer, darting topics from their journey up to their music. The segment was going well and the longer the talk was, the tension on their shoulders lessened.

“Alright, so we’re here to ask you guys some burning hot questions. Everyone’s curious, what’s your relationship status? Some say that you guys are in a relationship while others aren't, it’s also a hot topic that you guys describe your ideal type during your showcase.” Seungkwan asked, glancing at the members one by one.

The boys laughed at the question, before quietly looking at each other. Gesturing the oldest to answer the question. “Alright, uhm — we’re not going to deny it anymore, but we’re in a healthy relationship, well except for Jungwon, he’s still single and ready to mingle if anyone wants him,” Heeseung teased, making the youngest glare at him. 

“Oh this shouldn’t surprise me given that you guys are so handsome! It’s kinda controversial you know? It’s rare for singers to debut while maintaining a relationship and exposing them immediately to the public,” Seungkwan stated.

The members only agreed with the DJ’s words. One of the things they negotiated with the label is their private life outside their career. Daydream Records wasn’t strict with romantic relationships, and gave them the decision to reveal their relationship in public. While they weren’t the type to flaunt their girlfriends at every chance they have, their fans are quick to stalk their personal social media accounts. 

“Well, they’ve been supporting us from the start, it’s fundamental that we also have trust in each other,” Sunghoon explained, smiling as he remembered his girlfriend. 

“That’s true, plus they’re also the inspiration to our music, our fans love it to be honest, they think it’s romantic that we dedicated our songs for them,” Heeseung added.

“That’s right, from what I heard, your first ever composed song was dedicated to your girlfriend right?” 

Heeseung only laughed at the DJ’s words but the obvious red ears gave off the answer. They remember the first time they performed it — in front of thousands of Decelis students at the year-ender concert. One of the biggest crowds that they had performed. 

“That’s true, I’m going to say that the lyrics aren’t that deep and it’s a bit cheesy but that’s how I feel for her,” Heeseung explained, smiling wider than ever.

“If you want a small fact, Heeseung’s dating Jungwon’s older sister,” Jay chuckles.

“Oh! Seriously? Jungwon, what are your thoughts about it?” Seungkwan asked.

“Well,” Jungwon lets out a disappointing sigh. “I had no choice, they love each other.” 

The talk about Arcanum’s relationships continued, gossiping about how they met and where, the DJ seemed to be impressed how they all have different love stories. Commenting at how their listeners are probably gushing at how cute their relationships are. 

“You guys seem to really love them,” Seungkwan sentimentally said, and the members only smiled. “And I can see that they’re also a bunch of sweet and genuine girlfriends, that’s why we prepared a surprise for you guys!”

The members were surprised with Seungkwan’s words that they started looking around, wondering if their significant others are present in the set. Jungwon only laughed as the only single member, but his eyes wandered too, curious what kind of surprise the DJ had presented.

“Hello love,” a voice echoed through the speaker.

“Oh my god,” Sunghoon blurted out, surprised by a familiar voice that’s always been a tune to his ears. 

“Oh it’s a voice message,” Jay said in relief. 

The members decided to become quiet as they started listening to their voice messages. Sunghoon was smiling wide as his girlfriend made the call after her hospital shift, soft voice encouraging him and telling him that she’ll be there to support him no matter what — and she’ll be waiting at their home no matter what, making the keyboardist hold onto the ring on his ring finger, smiling wider that his eyes curved into crescent moons.

Jay laughs when he hears the bubbly tone of his girlfriend. Excitedly, she first shares anecdotes of their relationship, remembering that one time she kissed him in front of the crowd at the Rabbit Hole, a memory that seems to be a core memory not only for them, but also for the band. She then explains how lucky she was to have Jay as her boyfriend, a huge green flag she added. She warmly wraps it up with the sentence, “I’ll be cheering for you my rockstar.” 

“Hi Heeseung,” Jiwon’s voice came last. Just from her voice, Heeseung can see her smile and that thought made him smile wider.

Jiwon expressed how she was there from the start. From their first band practice in their house up to now, and she’s proud of what they’ve become. She’ll be supporting them from afar and reminding them that the Yang residence can still be a place for their band practice. Her message wasn’t just solely for Heeseung — but for the whole group, touching everyone's heart, while the vocalist only smiled at the thought of Jiwon caring enough for his band members. 

“For Jungwonnie, I’ll leave a message to you too,” Jiwon spoke, a teasing laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t be hard-headed to your members just because you’re the youngest! I won’t be there to nag you all the time! But noona will always be here cheering you on, I’m proud of you always. I love you kiddo.” From there, Jiwon’s voice stops. Jungwon’s smile never fades, heart touched by his sister’s words. 

“At least I got a short message from my sister,” Jungwon jokes, making the other three laugh. 

“Are you sure about that?” Seungkwan asked teasingly, “because while we’re listening to the voicemails, we suddenly received a message from someone. It says it’s from your best friend.”

Jungwon stops, confused and wondering who it was. His heart started beating fast, and there’s a small hope inside him that hopes it’s from you.

“Would you like to hear it?”

Jungwon only nods. Eager, even leaning against his microphone like it’ll make the voicemail louder.

“Hi Jungwon, congrats on your debut and your radio interview. It seems like life has always been in your favor,” there it was. Your soft tone that Jungwon immediately recognized. 

“You have always been so perfect in so many ways Wonwon,” a laughter escapes your lips, making Jungwon smile. “Do you still hate it? Calling you Wonwon? But the nickname stuck with me ever since, so you have no choice about it.”

“I’ve known you ever since we were kids, you always love playing music, I never got to beat your guitar hero high score.” a faint laugh escapes your lips, and Jungwon swore that your laugh was the prettiest thing he had heard today. “It makes sense that you’ll be in a band, Wonwon even though you can do almost everything.”

Then, a deep silence followed after. From the other side, you stood in front of the glass wall, watching the planes take off while you waited for your boarding time. Your heart filled with regret but also relief as you clutched on your phone tightly.

“I just want to tell you that I’m proud of you, for everything that you’ve achieved. You deserve it, and I’m pretty sure that there’s more to come with you and Arcanum, and that makes me even more proud.”

“I hope you’re okay now Jungwon, I love you so, so much, don’t you ever forget that,” you only said, lips trembling as you choke back your tears while an announcement echoed in the background.

“It’s time for me to go, I don’t know what the future holds, but I’ll be here supporting you and Arcanum. Goodbye Jungwon.”

The call ended. Jungwon was quiet as he thought of you. He doesn’t know what to feel hearing your voice. But somehow, he felt closure with it, and he was glad to hear your voice one last time before you leave the country. 

“Wow, that’s such touching words from your best friend,” Seungkwan softly said, touched by your message. “And of course! From your girlfriends too, before we close this segment, how about you guys give a few words for them?”

One by one, the members sent their love and short messages for their significant others. Hoping that it’ll reach them. All smiles and sweet words were given before it darted to Jungwon who gave the message last.

“Hi, thank you for the message. I don’t know if you’re still listening to this interview, but I hope you’ll be okay there in the states. It's a lot of adjustments, but I know you'll handle it strongly. Take care always. I love you so much, don't you ever forget that,” Jungwon deeply exhales before smiling.

You'd never paid much attention to him before. He always sat two rows ahead of you in Professor Kim's communication seminar — quiet, perfectly straight posture, mechanical note-taking. You knew his name was Park Sunghoon because the attendance sheet always paused on it, like even the roll call respected his GPA. He had a reputation for being brilliant, awkward, and just a little bit... untouchable. And honestly? That made him boring. At least, that was your opinion until today, when Professor Kim assigned that group activity. The one where each pair had to analyze live body language and give a ten-minute presentation on flirtation psychology. In front of the whole class. There were thirty-two students. Sixteen pairs. And somehow, your name got called next to his. You heard the syllables — "Y/N L/N and Park Sunghoon" — and you actually laughed. Out loud. Not because it was funny, but because the universe had a sick sense of humor. Sunghoon turned around slowly in his chair. The eye contact lasted maybe two seconds. Just long enough for you to register the panic behind his sharp, dark eyes, and the way his jaw twitched like he was bracing for impact. Then he turned back to his laptop like you'd physically assaulted him by existing.

"Oh, this'll be fun," you muttered, already biting back a grin.

--

The first five minutes of your "meeting" did not go well. "I just... think we should keep it academic," he said, without looking up from his notebook. You raised an eyebrow. "It's literally a flirtation study." "Yes, but we could do a theoretical breakdown. No need to be... physical." You blinked at him. "You think I'm gonna kiss you in front of the class?" He didn't answer — just flushed a violent red and adjusted his glasses, which you weren't even sure he needed because he'd never worn them before.

Huh. You leaned back in your chair, studying him now. Sharp jaw, neat black hair, starched hoodie. His biceps flexed unintentionally when he crossed his arms, and for a split second, your brain short-circuited. Those arms did not match that personality. At all. And then — there it was. He licked his bottom lip nervously. And you noticed it.

The tiniest flash of a canine tooth that looked a little too sharp. Oh. No. He's a shy nerd with vampire teeth and hidden biceps? You were doomed.

_________

"So," you said, fingers tapping on your pen. "You really have no idea how to flirt, do you?" Sunghoon looked like you slapped him. "What? No, I— I mean, that's not relevant to—" "You've never flirted in your life." "I— That's—" He stammered. "It's not... necessary for academic success."

You burst out laughing. "That's the most Sunghoon thing you could've said." He frowned at you, cheeks still pink. "What does that mean?" "Nothing," you said, still grinning. "Just that this presentation is going to be a mess unless I take full control." He narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?" You leaned forward, chin in hand, smile dangerously bright. "It means I'm gonna teach you how to flirt."

___________

Park Sunghoon blinked at you like you'd just offered to teach him black magic. "Flirt?" he echoed, slowly, like the word had never passed through his mouth before. You tilted your head. "You know. Flirting. Light eye contact. Verbal sparring. Emotional war crimes but in a cute way?" "I don't need to flirt," he said stiffly, pulling his sleeves over his hands. "I'm here to graduate." You deadpanned. "What, with a double major in loneliness and repressed eye contact?" That earned you a sharp glare. Okay, so maybe he had a little fire under all that stiff politeness. Interesting. "Look," you said, holding up your hands in mock surrender. "We're paired up. The assignment is literally about analyzing romantic body language. And judging by the way you flinched when I said the word 'kiss,' we're gonna fail unless one of us knows what we're doing."

Sunghoon's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "We could still do a formal breakdown of physical gestures—" "Oh my god, are you trying to PowerPoint your way out of intimacy?"

He sputtered. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop from laughing. Just then, a chair screeched behind you. Jake plopped into it backwards, eyes wide, iced matcha in hand, as usual. "Okay, what did I miss? Are we betting on how fast you'll make this man combust?" "Jake," you said sweetly, "this is my partner, Park Sunghoon. Sunghoon, this is Jake — emotional support dumbass."

"Pleasure," Jake said, unbothered. "Love the arms, by the way."

Sunghoon went fully rigid. You could've died on the spot. "Jake." "What?" Jake grinned. "We're all thinking it. Look at the man. He's got 'deceptive hoodie strength.' Like those boyfriends in gym TikToks who throw their girls over their shoulder for no reason. I respect it." Sunghoon muttered something under his breath that sounded like a prayer.

You leaned back with a sigh. "Anyway. I offered to help him. Flirting lessons. For the sake of academia." "Oh no," Jake said, blinking. "You're doing the Thing again." "What thing?" Jake pointed his straw at you. "Where you think you're helping, but actually you're creating another man who'll fall in love with you and suffer quietly for six months."

Sunghoon coughed violently into his elbow. You ignored it.

------

The next day, you met again. And this time, you brought notes. Sunghoon walked into the café ten minutes early, as expected. He wore a clean white tee under an overshirt, glasses pushed up high on his nose. You hated how good his biceps looked when he rolled his sleeves. It was the nerd-hot combo of doom.

You waved him over to your corner booth. He sat like the chair was too fragile to hold the weight of whatever chaos you were planning. "So," you said, sliding a notebook across the table. "Flirting, Lesson One: Eye Contact." He stared at the notebook. "Is that... hand-drawn?" "Of course," you said. "Look at the shading on the smirk diagram. That took me twenty minutes." He blinked. "There's a chart labeled 'wink intensity scale.'" "Don't skip ahead." Sunghoon stared at you. You stared back. And that... that lasted longer than expected. His eyes were dark, serious, intelligent. He didn't break eye contact even once. And for a guy who supposedly didn't know how to flirt? He wasn't blinking.

You shifted a little in your seat. Sunghoon noticed. "Am I doing it wrong?" "No," you said, voice tighter than it should've been. "Actually that was... pretty good." He looked down, suddenly flustered. The spell broke. "Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just... good at memorization." You almost choked on your own heartbeat.

⸻

By the time Lesson Two rolled around — "Accidental Touches That Aren't Actually Accidental" — you were beginning to understand something crucial. Sunghoon wasn't naturally flirty.

But he was scarily observant. "Here," you said, brushing his hand with yours over the sample cue cards you made, "see how that hesitation adds just a little tension?" He looked down at your hand. Then up. And he did it again. Deliberately. Fingers grazing yours for a second longer.

You stiffened. "Like that?" he asked, trying to sound clinical. But his voice cracked just slightly at the end. You looked up at him. He looked down at your lips. The air between you shifted. You pulled your hand back. "Yup. Perfect." You needed a moment to breathe.

⸻

Later that night, you recounted it all to Yunjin. She was horizontal on your bed, face down in a bag of kettle chips. "You're telling me he did the 'I'm an academic but accidentally hot' thing?" she asked, crumbs in her hair. "Yes." "And he made eye contact?" "Yes." "And you're not in love yet?" "I didn't say that." She looked up with narrowed eyes. "You're gonna kiss him." "No."

"You're gonna let him ruin you with science." "No!"

Yunjin tossed a chip in your direction. "Babe, you're not his tutor. You're his final exam."

________

Sunghoon was early again.

You weren't even surprised anymore. By the time you got to the library's fourth-floor study room, he was already seated, headphones on, pencil in hand, scribbling something furiously into the corner of a page. His hair was slightly messy today — not in an intentional way, just like he'd forgotten to run a hand through it after his shower. He had on a dark sweatshirt with the sleeves shoved up to his forearms again, and — unfortunately — the same stupidly perfect biceps made a guest appearance. You paused at the door. There was something weirdly calming about watching him before he noticed you. Like some kind of social wildlife documentary. Here we see the elusive nerd in his natural habitat, fully unaware of the emotional destruction he's about to cause.

Then he looked up. And immediately straightened in his chair like he'd been caught doing something illegal. "I wasn't— I was just going over the notes," he said. You blinked. "Notes... for flirting?" He turned pink instantly. "I mean. For class. But also, um, the other notes. I reviewed everything. From Lesson One and Two." You dropped your bag onto the chair beside him, impressed despite yourself. "Wow. You're really taking this seriously."

"It's an assignment," he said, avoiding eye contact again. "We should do well." You nodded slowly, lips twitching into a smirk. "Right. All for the grade." He didn't respond. His ears were red again. God, you were going to eat this boy alive.

⸻

Today's lesson was supposed to be "Tone of Voice." But you barely got through the first five minutes before Ni-ki walked in. "Yo," he said, sliding the door open like he owned the place. "Sunghoon, did you eat lunch or are you still running on shame and academic guilt?" Sunghoon sighed. "Ni-ki, what are you doing here?"

"Delivering food," he said, dramatically placing a brown paper bag on the table. "And moral support." You stared at him. "Do you... know what we're doing?" Ni-ki gave you a look that made you feel like you were twelve and embarrassing yourself at a talent show. "Y/N, the entire third floor knows what you're doing." Your stomach dropped. "What?" "You offered to teach the shy guy how to flirt. In a room with glass walls." He waved behind him. "There's a girl out there who's taking notes."

Sunghoon looked horrified. You pressed your hand over your mouth to stop from laughing.

 Ni-ki leaned in. "Anyway, just wanted to say... good luck. Also, if he starts flirting too well, I will intervene. He's not ready for heartbreak." "I'm not the one who's going to break anyone," you muttered.

Ni-ki smirked, winked, and walked out like he hadn't just set the entire room on fire. Sunghoon stared down at his untouched food like it had personally betrayed him. "...Should we continue?" you asked gently. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Sure."

⸻

You sat across from him, posture relaxed, fingers brushing the edge of your notebook. "Okay," you said. "Lesson Three. Tone."

Sunghoon nodded. "This one's tricky," you explained. "It's not what you say, it's how you say it. You could be saying something totally innocent, but if your voice drops just a little, it sounds..." You trailed off. His eyes were on you now. Steady. Focused. Quiet, but curious. "...Intimate," you finished. Sunghoon swallowed visibly. "So it's... inflection?" "Mmhmm. Try saying something neutral. Like..." You looked around. "Like 'I'm cold.'" He blinked. "I'm cold." "No. That's literal. Say it like..." You dropped your voice half an octave, softening the edges. "I'm cold."

Sunghoon froze. You arched a brow. "Your turn." He hesitated, eyes flicking to your mouth. "I'm..." He coughed. "I'm cold." It wasn't quite there — still a little stiff. But the second time? He looked right at you. Said it slowly. "I'm cold." And it landed. You blinked, slightly breathless. "That was... good." He glanced down. A tiny smile played at the corners of his lips.

You stared at him for a second too long. Your brain caught up. You snapped your notebook shut. "Okay. Lesson over." "But—" "We'll review it again tomorrow. With examples." He tilted his head. "Like what?" "Like— I don't know, tone shifts in compliments or something. Just— practice. With a friend. Not me. A different friend." He nodded, but there was something in his eyes. Something new. You didn't want to name it.

⸻

You ran into Eunchae at the vending machines later. "You've got that look," she said, sipping her juice box like a bored oracle. "What look?" "The 'I taught a boy how to flirt and now I'm scared' look." You groaned. "It's too early for this." "It's never too early for consequences." She tossed you a granola bar. "So. Has he tried to kiss you yet?" "No. Absolutely not." "Do you want him to?" You paused. Eunchae grinned. "Oh. We're in trouble."

⸻

Later that night, you reread your notes. Your handwriting from Lesson One looked ridiculous now. All those diagrams. All those dumb arrows and winking tips. You'd made them for fun — a joke. A challenge. Now it didn't feel so funny anymore. Because when you pictured someone practicing those lessons? You didn't like the thought of him trying them on anyone else. You didn't like it at all.

__________

The next day, you showed up ten minutes late to your own "lesson." Which, okay, technically wasn't your fault. Yunjin had cornered you in the hallway with a look that screamed trouble and immediately launched into a full-throttle spiral about whether she should text her ex "for closure" or "just to set his car on fire with emojis." By the time you escaped, you were speed-walking into the library study room with a bag of snacks, zero shame, and half your hair falling out of its clip. Sunghoon looked up from the desk like he hadn't moved in hours. "You're late," he said, but his voice wasn't annoyed — just observant. His usual soft-spoken calm. You dropped into the chair beside him. "You'll live. I brought Cheez-Its."

He blinked. "I'm lactose intolerant." You stared at him. He stared back. Then — and this was new — he smirked. "I'm kidding," he said. You blinked again. Was that... his first ever joke? Was it funny? Not really. Was it earth-shattering because he said it? Yes. You slid the snack bag across the table. "Okay, I'm gonna pretend you didn't just emotionally destroy me with dry humor. Ready for Lesson Four?" He nodded. Calm. Composed. You, meanwhile, had forgotten your own notes at home and were now pulling a half-crumpled worksheet from the bottom of your bag like a clown.

Today's topic: "Flirting in Context: Using Situations to Your Advantage." Totally harmless.

Totally fine. You glanced at the paper. Read the fake scenario aloud. "'Pretend you're trying to flirt with someone who just helped you pick up your dropped books. Your goal is to thank them and make it clear you're interested — without being too obvious.'"

You glanced up. "Okay. So let's say you dropped your stuff. I helped. You now have five seconds to shoot your shot." Sunghoon shifted in his seat, expression uncertain. You gave him a soft smile. "Don't overthink it. Just try." He nodded slowly. Then turned toward you, leaned forward just slightly — enough that the air changed. "Thanks," he said, voice lower than usual. "For helping." You tilted your head. "And?" He hesitated. Then his gaze dropped — slowly, deliberately — to your lips, then back up. "I'd offer to buy you coffee as a thank you, but I'm worried I'd get distracted watching you drink it." Your brain stuttered. What. What the hell. Sunghoon blinked at you. "Was that bad? It felt... too much."

You swallowed. "No, it was... good."

It was very good. It was dangerously good. "Where'd you get that line?" you asked, trying to sound neutral. He shrugged, cheeks pinking slightly. "Watched a rom-com last night. Took notes." You blinked. "You took notes on Netflix flirting?" He nodded. "Verbal delivery is more effective when there's a context model." You put your face in your hands.

⸻

An hour later, you were both packing up. The air was calm again. Neutral. The tension from earlier had been tucked away into a sealed, politely unacknowledged box — as always. You threw your bag over your shoulder. "Hey," you said lightly, "are you coming to the comms mixer tomorrow?" Sunghoon paused. "Mixer?" "Yeah — just a chill department thing. Free food. Mild chaos. Jake's going. Probably Eunchae too."

He hesitated. "You don't have to stay long," you added. "But it might be good... you know, for context." Sunghoon looked at you for a second longer than normal. Then nodded. "I'll go. For... research." You smiled, satisfied. "For science."

⸻

That night, your dorm was buzzing with noise. Jake had crashed on your floor to help "emotionally prep" you for the mixer by giving a dramatic reading of all your past bad decisions in chronological order. "And THEN," he said, standing on your desk like a Broadway villain, "she said, and I quote, 'flirting lessons will be good for him. I'm doing a service.'" Yunjin groaned from the bed. "A service? Girl, you're trying to seduce him with school supplies." "I am not!" Jake pointed a chewed pen at you. "Then explain why he made eye contact during a fake scenario and you sat there breathing like you just got hit by a semi."

You threw a pillow at him.

"I'm serious," Jake said, sitting down for once. "This boy is learning way too fast. He's either a natural or he's in love." You opened your mouth to argue. And couldn't. Yunjin leaned over and smacked your leg gently. "Bestie, you are so not immune to him." You groaned into your comforter. "It's too soon." Jake raised a brow. "You're teaching a man with visible biceps, vampire teeth, and perfect memory how to flirt. You're already doomed."

---

The next morning, you got a text.

[Sunghoon]: will you be at the mixer at 5?

You stared at your screen. Then replied:

[You]: yeah. why?

A beat passed.

Then his response lit up:

[Sunghoon]: just want to know who to look for.

You stared again. Sat down. And decided then and there you were in deep, deep trouble.

__________

College mixers were supposed to be awkward. That was just science. People stood in clumps like bad salad, half-holding paper plates full of grocery store cookies, pretending to be social while calculating the exact second it would be acceptable to leave without being judged. The snack table was a battlefield. The name tags were a lie. And no one — no one — actually wanted to be there longer than thirty-five minutes.

You, however, were thriving. Because when you knew how to work a room — when you were wearing your favorite skirt, and your lip gloss was glossy but not too glossy, and your top was tight in a way that said I'm approachable, but only if you're funny — these events turned into a kind of sport. Also: Jake was there. Which meant you were in for a show whether you wanted one or not.

"Tell me again," Jake said, dramatically swirling his plastic cup of lemon soda like it was vintage wine. "Why are we wasting our Friday evening surrounded by 22-year-old philosophy bros who think Plato invented flirting?" You snorted. "You said you wanted to emotionally support me."

"I do," he replied. "But I also want nachos. And a man with arms. I've seen neither." You pointed at the snack table. "There's guac." Jake gave it a glance. "That's not guac. That's a cry for help." You rolled your eyes and looked toward the door again. Sunghoon wasn't here yet. Which was fine. Normal. It wasn't like you were counting the minutes. Or fixing your hair every five seconds. Or replaying yesterday's I'd get distracted watching you drink coffee line in your head like it was a scene from a K-drama. Except... yeah. You were absolutely doing all of that.

And Jake noticed. "Oh my god," he whispered, clutching his chest. "She's got it bad." "I do not." "You've got the what if he touches my hand again on purpose this time look in your eye." "I do not!" "You wore your flirtiest skirt." "This is a normal skirt!" Jake gasped. "And the matching gloss? You hussy." "Shut up!"

But he just cackled and looped his arm through yours, dragging you away from the snack table and toward the little circle of people mingling by the projector. "Let's at least pretend to be social before you emotionally combust over your lab partner."

"He's not my lab partner." "He's your lesson plan with biceps." You said nothing. Because unfortunately, he was right.

---

You didn't notice Sunghoon arrive. You felt it. One minute you were in the middle of nodding politely through a senior's long, winding monologue about his thesis on media representation in 20th-century soap commercials, and the next— You felt the shift. A ripple. A presence. That weird crackle in the air when you know someone's looking at you — really looking. You turned your head. And there he was.

Park Sunghoon stood just inside the entrance. Dressed in his usual slightly-too-clean hoodie layered over a white shirt, hands shoved into his pockets, his posture a perfect balance of tense and composed. He scanned the room once — quick, efficient, quietly watchful — and then his eyes landed on you.

Your heart did something inconvenient. Sunghoon started walking toward you. Jake noticed before you did. "Ohhh boy," he said under his breath. "He's doing the walk." "What walk?" "The I came to see someone walk. He's zeroing in, Y/N." You tried to act normal. Casual. Chill.

You failed. Because Sunghoon stopped in front of you and said, softly, like you were the only one in the room:

"Hi." You blinked. "Hi." He looked at Jake. Nodded. "Hey." Jake gave a theatrical little bow. "I'll leave you two alone before I get third-degree burns from the tension. If you need me, I'll be over there pretending to understand grad students."

And then he was gone. Just like that, you were standing alone with Sunghoon at a mixer surrounded by fifty people, but somehow, it felt like the only sound in the room was your own heartbeat. "You came," you said, stupidly. He nodded. "You asked." You bit your lip. "Was it hard to find?" "No. I followed the noise." "Smart." Sunghoon gave a quiet, awkward chuckle — just a single exhale, but the sound hit you harder than expected. His eyes flicked down to your outfit, just briefly, before darting back up. You tried not to feel the way your stomach fluttered.

"You look—" he started.

You raised a brow. "Yeah?" His throat bobbed. "You look... confident." You blinked. That was such a Sunghoon answer. Not hot. Not pretty. Not beautiful. Confident. But the way he said it — like it mattered — made something in you soften. "Thank you," you said, genuinely. You weren't sure why your chest felt so full.

---

"Okay," you said, trying to break the tension. "Wanna play a game?" He blinked. "What kind?"

You grabbed two cups of soda and pulled him toward the corner of the room, where a big whiteboard had been set up with Expo markers and a prompt at the top: "Describe yourself in three words." "Come on," you said, handing him a marker. "We're doing this."

He stared at the board like it was a final exam. "You first," he said.

You scribbled quickly: chaotic, flirty, semi-responsible

Then passed him the marker. "Your turn." Sunghoon hesitated. Then slowly, carefully, wrote:

quiet, observant, trying

You paused. Looked at him. His expression was guarded, but something behind his eyes was soft. Like maybe he didn't realize how honest he'd just been. "Trying?" you echoed. He glanced at you. Then down. "Yeah."

You didn't say anything. Just smiled. "Okay," you said after a pause. "New lesson." He looked up. "We're going to test how well you remember Lesson Two. Accidental touches." Sunghoon stiffened. "In public?"

"Don't worry," you said, stepping closer — close enough to feel the heat from his arm. "Just follow my lead." You reached for your cup at the same time he did.

Fingers brushed. Paused. You didn't move away. Neither did he. You looked up. His breath caught — just slightly. But it was there. You smiled. "You passed."

Jake returned twenty minutes later, looked between the two of you once, and whispered under his breath: "Oh no. They're making eye contact. We're past the point of no return."

________

You ended up at a table in the far back of the mixer, somehow sandwiched between a half-eaten bowl of tortilla chips and a girl from the senior cohort who was aggressively pitching her student documentary about postmodern loneliness. Sunghoon sat across from you, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie like he was trying not to take up space. His name tag had somehow slipped down his chest at an awkward angle and was now reading P. Sunghoo, and for a solid five minutes he hadn't noticed. You didn't correct him. It was too cute. Jake noticed, though. "Oh my god, give me that," he muttered, walking over from across the room and snatching the crooked name tag off Sunghoon's chest like a concerned mother. "You look like someone who wandered in here by accident."

Sunghoon blinked up at him. "I... didn't notice." Jake fixed the tag, patted him lightly on the shoulder, and said with utmost seriousness: "You're flirting with a girl who wore eyeliner for you. You need to notice more." "Jake," you groaned. "What? I'm a wingman. It's my moral duty."

Jake flounced off again, leaving Sunghoon frozen mid-sip of his soda, ears bright pink. You smiled at him from across the table. "Ignore him. He gets dramatic when the crowd isn't about him." Sunghoon set the cup down carefully. "You wore eyeliner for me?"

You froze. He was looking at you now — directly. Not coy. Not teasing. Just curious. You laughed, flustered. "I wore eyeliner because I like eyeliner." He nodded slowly, almost like he was filing the answer away. "You look nice." You blinked. It wasn't flirtatious. It wasn't delivered with confidence. He said it like a fact — something undeniable, something obvious, something he'd probably been sitting on for the last thirty minutes.

Your chest tightened. "Thanks," you said, your voice softer than usual. "You do too." His eyes dropped for a second — not to check you out, but like he didn't know what to do with compliments when they came back to him. You wanted to touch his hand again. You didn't.

--

Eventually, Yunjin found you both and sat down beside you with a plate full of veggie sticks and a raised eyebrow. "So," she said, casually. "What's happening here?" "We're talking," you said.

"I can see that. But are you flirting or studying flirting? Because the line is blurrier than my foundation in this lighting."

Sunghoon turned bright red again and opened his mouth to respond — but Jake plopped down beside him before he could. Jake took one look at Sunghoon's expression and announced, "Oh yeah. We've entered the girl makes one joke and boy thinks about it for twelve hours phase." You covered your face with your hand. "Please stop analyzing him like a lab rat." "Then stop conducting experiments on innocent STEM boys!" Jake protested. "I feel like I'm watching someone flirt with a golden retriever that has anxiety."

"I do not have anxiety," Sunghoon mumbled. Yunjin patted his arm. "It's okay. Everyone here does. It's academic." Sunghoon gave a tiny, helpless smile. And weirdly, it suited him. He wasn't comfortable in loud groups, that much was obvious. But he was trying — not just showing up, but staying. Listening. Sitting beside you with his whole posture tilted slightly in your direction, like the room wasn't half as important as wherever you were. It made something quiet and warm unfurl in your ribs.

---

Eventually, people began to drift out. The lights dimmed. The professor hosting the event made a round of awkward "thank you for coming" announcements, and music started playing low through someone's Bluetooth speaker — barely a hum in the background, but enough to signal that the mixer had reached its vague after-hours phase. Yunjin and Jake wandered off, muttering about bathroom selfies and "accidentally" crashing the grad student mixer happening one floor up. Sunghoon looked at you. "Do you want to leave?" You hesitated. Then shook your head. "Let's stay. Just a little longer." So you did.

You ended up sitting next to each other on a window bench near the back of the room, legs stretched out, your shoulder brushing his lightly every time you shifted. At one point, someone brought out a deck of conversation prompt cards. They got passed around — silly, half-serious icebreakers. But when one of them ended up in your hand, you raised a brow and read it out loud. "'What's something you've always wanted to say to someone but never had the nerve to?'" Sunghoon tensed beside you. You looked at him. He looked straight ahead. Then, after a pause, he said — so quietly you almost didn't hear it: "Sometimes... I wish I didn't care about doing everything right." You turned your head slowly. Sunghoon was still staring at the floor.

"People expect me to have answers," he said. "To act a certain way. To be composed. I'm not good at... this." His voice dropped a little. "Talking. Feeling. Whatever this is."

You said nothing. Just waited. After a moment, he looked at you. "But I want to learn." Your breath hitched. And then, because you didn't know what else to do, you reached out and nudged his wrist gently with your fingers. It wasn't a big gesture. Not a hand-hold. Not a grab. Just... contact. His breath caught. He looked down at where your fingers grazed his wrist. Then back up. And smiled. Small. Honest. Not performative. Not part of the "lesson." Just real.

---

Jake found you later, walking back toward the dorms with your arms folded tight around your ribs and a look in your eye that could only mean trouble. He raised both brows. "So. Did we hold hands? Accidentally brush shoulders? Accidentally fall in love?" You looked up at him, dazed. "I'm not sure what we did." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders, smirking like the cat who got the entire bakery. "Ohhh girl," he said. "It's already over for you."

________

You didn't see Sunghoon for three days.

Okay, technically you did see him — across campus, in passing, once from a distance in the dining hall when he was talking to Eunchae over a tray of rice and soup — but he didn't see you. Or if he did, he didn't wave. He didn't text, either. Not that he owed you anything. You weren't dating. You weren't flirting — technically.

You were just two students working on an assignment about human interaction, using your combined awkwardness and suppressed sexual tension to somehow pass a Communications elective neither of you should've taken in the first place. Totally normal. You weren't spiraling. Until Jake found you in your room on the fourth night, lying face-down on the floor like the carpet could absorb your feelings. "Okay," he said, staring down at your body like it was a crime scene. "Which character are you being today? Damsel in distress, abandoned mistress, or emotionally repressed boy from a 2007 indie film?"

"Option four," you mumbled. "Which is?" "Academic delusion. Girl who thinks she's normal until she teaches a hot boy how to flirt and then he vanishes." Jake stepped over you like a tragic puddle and collapsed onto your bed. "He didn't vanish. He's not Houdini. He's a STEM major."

"He's avoiding me." "He's probably scared." You turned your head, suspicious. "Scared of what?" Jake stared at the ceiling. "Of how hard he's falling."

You blinked. Then sat up. Jake watched you carefully. "Listen, babe. You're a lot. I say that with love. You walk into rooms like they're yours. You make eye contact like it's a weapon. And you offered to teach someone like Sunghoon how to flirt." He paused. "Of course he's freaking out."

You sighed. "Anyway," Jake continued, flopping dramatically onto his side, "didn't Professor Kim assign a new group task?" Your eyes widened. "Oh god. The presentation outline. It's due tomorrow."

 Jake raised a brow. "You're meeting him, right?" You swallowed. "Library. 6pm." Jake grinned. "Then wear something unholy and make him regret whatever existential crisis he's having."

---

You didn't wear anything unholy. In fact, you wore jeans, a sweatshirt, and lip balm that had mostly faded by the time you got to the fourth floor of the library. The study rooms were mostly empty — dim, quiet, that kind of soft silence that made your heartbeat feel too loud. Sunghoon was already there. He was sitting at the end of the table, notes spread out in neat rows, laptop open, sleeves rolled just past his elbows like usual. His hair was slightly damp, like he'd showered right before coming. He looked up when you entered.

And for a moment, neither of you said anything. Then— "Hi," he said, soft. "Hey." You slid into the seat next to him. Not across. Next. Your shoulder didn't touch his, but it could have. Your knees could, too, if you moved an inch. You didn't. "Sorry," he said. "I meant to message you earlier. I've just been—" "Busy," you filled in, smiling a little. "It's okay. So have I."

He looked at you for a second longer. Then nodded. You didn't ask why he hadn't texted. You didn't ask if he was thinking about what happened at the mixer. The almost-hand-holding. The eye contact. The trying. You just opened your laptop. "Okay," you said, voice light, "let's outline this thing before I start fake-flirting with the professor to buy more time." Sunghoon blinked. "Would that work?" You smirked. "Only one way to find out." He looked away quickly, but you caught the edge of his smile.

---

An hour in, the presentation was outlined, half the script drafted, and you were halfway into a pack of gummy worms when your arm brushed his. Not accidentally. Not on purpose either. It just happened. And it happened again when you both reached for the same highlighter. And again when he leaned slightly toward you to reread a line and your knees bumped under the table. You didn't pull away. Neither did he. You didn't speak about it. But the air started to feel full. Like something invisible had taken a seat at the table with you, sat between your arms and over your legs, filling the space with all the words neither of you wanted to be the first to say. You swallowed. "So." He glanced at you.

You didn't look back. "When are you gonna practice Lesson Five?" He was silent. You turned to face him slowly. He was already watching you. "What's Lesson Five?" he asked, voice quieter than usual. You tilted your head, heart ticking faster. "Proximity. Space. Intimacy cues." He blinked. "Most people think it's about touching," you explained, keeping your tone calm, casual. "But it's more subtle than that. It's about leaning in. Invading space. Reading reactions." Sunghoon said nothing.

So you leaned forward — just a little. A breath of space. And his gaze dropped immediately to your mouth. Your breath caught. "Like that," you whispered. He didn't move. Didn't look away. Didn't blink. You leaned back slowly, pulse hammering in your throat. He cleared his throat. Picked up his pen. Looked down at the table. And said nothing. The silence stretched. Then— "I think about it," he said suddenly. You froze. He still wasn't looking at you. Just staring at his notes, pen unmoving. You found your voice. "Think about what?" His fingers curled slightly on the edge of the page. "The... lessons. Afterward. When I'm home. I think about what I should've done differently. What I could've tried." You didn't say anything. His voice dropped, barely audible. "And sometimes I think about things you haven't taught me yet." You stopped breathing. The space between you buzzed. You wanted to ask what he meant. You didn't. Instead, you just nodded slowly, your heartbeat so loud you were sure he could hear it.

---

You left the library together just after nine. The night air was cold, crisp, and quiet. He walked beside you without speaking, his shoulder just close enough to brush yours when you turned a corner. At one point, you asked, "You heading back to the dorms?" He nodded. You smiled. "Good. You need to sleep before you try to process any more body language." He laughed. Just once. But it was soft. Real. You stopped outside the dorm building. Neither of you moved. Sunghoon looked at you. Then, like it cost him something— "Thanks. For... teaching me." You looked up. "You're a fast learner."

And before he could reply — before he could pull away or retreat or say something too clinical — you leaned in and pressed your lips softly to his cheek. Just for a second. His breath caught. And then you stepped back. "Lesson Six," you said, grinning. "Unexpected reward for good progress." Sunghoon just stood there. Eyes wide. Frozen. You waved and turned. Didn't look back. But if you had... you might've seen him touch the spot where your lips had been like he didn't believe it actually happened.

__________

"You kissed him?" "I did not kiss him." Jake stopped mid-crunch, a baby carrot half-hanging from his mouth. You stared at the whiteboard in your shared dorm kitchen, where he was currently drawing a visual breakdown of your life like it was a high-stakes conspiracy theory. He pointed to the triangle he'd labeled "CHEEK CONTACT??" and glared. "You kissed him. On the cheek. That counts. It's over."

"It was a reward!"

"For what — existing?" "He showed up! He's trying! It was... encouragement." "Babe, you don't encourage your classmates by kissing them on the face." You sighed and flopped onto the couch, stealing one of his carrots out of spite. "I'm not having this argument again." Jake tossed the marker onto the kitchen counter and plopped down beside you. "Okay, but seriously. How do you feel?" You hesitated. "I... don't know." "Do you like him?" "I like who he's becoming. I like who he is when he's not thinking so hard about how to act." Jake raised a brow. "You like him." You didn't answer. Because maybe you did. But maybe you weren't ready to deal with what that meant yet.

---

Across campus, Sunghoon was staring blankly at his laptop screen, the cursor blinking at the top of a blank Google Doc while Eunchae monologued behind him. "I swear, if that ethics professor docks my grade again for 'not citing vibes,' I'm gonna launch myself into the river."

Sunghoon blinked. "You mean for not citing your sources?" "I mean for not citing his exact opinion word-for-word while pretending to have an original thought. If I wanted to be punished for using my own brain, I'd join the debate team." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "You're not on the debate team?" "God, no. I have taste." He huffed a soft laugh and turned back to his laptop. Eunchae watched him for a second. Then leaned forward on the desk, chewing on her pen. "So..." she said. He didn't respond. "Anything you wanna talk about? Like, say... cheek-based developments? Related to a certain someone whose eyeliner game is violently illegal?"

Sunghoon's ears turned pink. Eunchae grinned. "I knew it. You're so obvious." "It was just—" he hesitated. "It wasn't... anything."

"Right. Just casual cheek kisses. The normal academic kind." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She said it was a reward." "For what?"

"Progress." Eunchae blinked. "Damn. I need to join this class." By Wednesday, campus was buzzing again — not about you, thankfully, but about the upcoming protest march downtown. You heard about it first from Yunjin, who knocked twice on your door and barged in without waiting for a response. "Okay," she said, dropping her tote onto your desk chair. "We're going."

You blinked. "Going where?" "To the protest." "The tuition hike protest?" "Obviously." You sat up. "When is it?" "Saturday. City center. Noon. Wear black. Bring water. Also a sign." You blinked. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because you're a chronic overthinker and I need to give you three business days to process anything mildly political."

"That's... accurate."

She tossed you a granola bar. "Get mad. The school's screwing us over and pretending it's a financial necessity. You like justice. Pretend it's hot." You laughed. "Also," Yunjin added with a smirk, "I may or may not have invited certain tall academic men to join us." You stared. She raised her brows. "I didn't say Sunghoon," she said. "But, like, I didn't not say it either."

Later that day, you found yourself at the coffee shop near campus, trying to focus on your part of the project script while Jake and Eunchae argued about the best condiment. "Okay but hear me out," Jake said, sipping his iced drink like he was about to drop a TED Talk. "Ketchup is just red sugar with delusions of relevance."

Eunchae stared at him. "That's unhinged." "It's the truth." "You put hot sauce on plain white rice." "That's flavorful. Ketchup is just capitalism in a packet." You were about to intervene when a familiar voice spoke quietly from behind you. "Is this seat taken?"

You turned. Sunghoon stood there, holding a cup of tea and looking like he'd rehearsed that line four times in his head before saying it. You blinked. "It is now." He sat down beside you. Close, but not touching. His shoulder hovered just inches from yours. Jake raised his brows and mouthed ooooohhhhhh. You ignored him. Sunghoon looked at your open laptop. "Is this... for the script?" You nodded. "I was rewriting the transitions between sections. You can look if you want." He did. Silently. His brow furrowed slightly in thought. You could practically hear the gears turning. Eventually, he nodded. "It's good." You smiled. "You sound surprised." "I'm not," he said, and then added quickly, "I mean— I'm not surprised. Just— impressed."

Jake fake-gagged. "You guys are adorable. I hate it here." Eunchae leaned across the table. "So, Sunghoon. You marching Saturday?" He blinked. "Marching?"

"The protest. City square. Tuition hike resistance. Screaming into the void."

"I— I hadn't planned to—"

"You should come," you said before you could stop yourself.

His eyes flicked to yours. "You'll be there?" You nodded. Sunghoon hesitated. Then said, quietly: "Then I'll come." Jake knocked over his cup.

_____

The square was already packed when you arrived. You weren't expecting it to be this loud.

Megaphones crackled. Drums beat from somewhere near the front line. Students held up signs, arms stretched high over their heads — slogans painted in angry black and red, bold and hurried, some scrawled in permanent marker on the backs of old pizza boxes.

NO JUSTICE, NO TUITION

WE'RE NOT ATMs

PAY TO BREATHE? 

Yunjin handed you a sharpie and a blank board before you could blink.

"Make it sassy or make it loud," she said, adjusting her ponytail. "No in-between." You hesitated, then started writing. I CAME FOR A DEGREE NOT DEBT TRAUMA Jake leaned over your shoulder. "Gorgeous. Devastating. Ten out of ten." "I aim to please."

Eunchae was standing beside him, oversized hoodie flapping around her thighs in the wind, drawing tiny cartoon fists of rage all over her own sign. She added a single sparkle sticker in the corner. For flair. "So," she said casually. "Where's our awkward prince?" You blinked. "Who?" She gave you a flat look. You pretended not to hear.

---

Sunghoon arrived ten minutes later, backpack slung over one shoulder, hoodie zipped halfway up, eyes scanning the crowd like he was walking into a final exam. You spotted him before he spotted you — not because of anything he did, but because of how he moved. Carefully.

Soft-footed. Like he didn't quite believe he belonged. But he was here. He saw you. And then he made a beeline. You didn't say anything at first — just offered him the spare granola bar from your pocket and nudged your elbow into his. "You came." "You said you'd be here." You smiled. He looked down at your sign. Read it. His lips twitched. Then he surprised you. He reached for the sharpie in your hand, flipped your board over, and without a word, wrote something on the back. You leaned in to read it.

IF YOU RAISE MY TUITION I'LL START SELLING MY NOTES TO YOUR MOM

You burst out laughing. Jake glanced over. "Oh my god. You corrupted him." Yunjin glanced up from where she was braiding Eunchae's hair. "No, she just let him be funny in public for the first time in his life." Sunghoon flushed, but the corners of his mouth pulled up. You watched him watching you. And felt something quiet crack open in your chest.

---

As the march started moving — slow, pulsing, chants rising and falling — you found yourself walking beside him without even trying. You were shoulder to shoulder. Hip to hip. When the crowd surged and you stumbled, his hand caught your arm without hesitation. "You okay?" he asked, voice close to your ear. You nodded. His hand stayed there a second too long.

---

At one point, a journalism student with a campus press pass and a painfully retro camera stopped you. "Can we get a shot of you two holding signs together?" You blinked. "Oh— we're not—" But Sunghoon had already stepped forward, still awkward but strangely willing, lifting his side of the board beside yours. The photo clicked. The journalist grinned. "Perfect. You two look good together." You didn't respond. Sunghoon didn't either. But you both went very quiet.

---

By the time the protest circled back to the starting point, the air had changed. The energy was electric. People were still shouting, laughing, clapping each other on the back. Several professors were giving short speeches on the steps of the admin building. The student body president took the mic at one point and got booed — loudly — for talking about "institutional patience." You and your friends had migrated to the edge of the green, sprawled out on the dry grass like a post-battle movie scene. Jake was flat on his back, sunglasses on, drinking from someone else's water bottle. "Okay," he muttered. "I hate this school. But I love revolution." Eunchae was braiding daisy stems into a crown for no reason. Yunjin was arguing with a poli-sci senior about participatory democracy while casually removing her earrings in case the debate turned violent. And Sunghoon? Sunghoon was sitting beside you again. Legs stretched out. Hands resting in his lap. Shirt slightly clinging to his arms because of the sun. His cheeks were pink from the heat. And for once, he wasn't fidgeting. You turned to him. "How're you feeling?" He thought about it. Then said, "Louder." You blinked. "Huh?"

He looked at you, eyes clear. "I'm not usually this... loud. But I don't hate it."

You smiled. "It suits you." He looked away. But not before you saw it — that same flicker of expression you were starting to learn. The tiny, soft tremor of emotion beneath the surface. Not pride. Not shyness. Just... something real.

---

And then it happened. A tall guy walked by. Tall, built, clearly from your department. You knew him vaguely — group project from last semester, always wore backwards caps and smelled like cologne and gum. He stopped.

"Y/N, hey," he said, flashing you a grin. "Didn't expect to see you out here." You blinked. "Hey... Theo?"

"Yeah!" He smiled, and then — very casually — crouched beside you, eyeing your sign. "Still funny, I see." You laughed, polite. Sunghoon sat very, very still. "You marching?" Theo asked. "Yeah. You?" "Just got here. You coming to the post-march dinner thing at Vespa's? Bunch of us from comms are heading there after this." You hesitated. "I didn't know about that."

"Well, now you do." He smiled. "Bring your friend." He glanced at Sunghoon like he'd only just noticed him. You glanced between them. Sunghoon's jaw was tense. Theo stood. "See you there?" "Maybe," you said. He left. The moment hung in the air like smoke. Jake whispered to Eunchae: "Oh no. Theo's trying to eat." Sunghoon didn't say anything for a long time. Then, very quietly, he said: "Who was that?" You looked at him. "Theo. We worked on a comms project last year." He nodded once. Then looked away. You blinked. Was that... irritation? No. No way. You bit back a smile. "You okay?" "I'm fine." "You sure?" He didn't respond. So you leaned in. Close enough for your shoulder to press against his. For your breath to graze his ear. "He's not my type," you whispered. Sunghoon froze. Then looked at you. And this time? He didn't smile. He just stared. Like he wasn't thinking anymore. Just watching. You sat back slowly. Heart pounding.

_________

Vespa's was packed by the time you got there. The student protest crowd had migrated like clockwork — from megaphones to menu boards — filling the little corner bistro with the chaotic hum of post-rally adrenaline. People were still in protest shirts, still holding signs tucked awkwardly under tables, voices hoarse from chanting but laughing anyway. Music played softly in the background. Every table was full. You and your friends managed to claim a corner booth. Sunghoon sat to your left again, pressed lightly to the wall, legs too long under the narrow table. Yunjin sat directly across from you, already halfway through her soda, and Jake was attempting to charm the waitress into letting him order a cocktail despite clearly being underage. "It's for the cause," he argued. "Solidarity shot."

"It's a family restaurant," she replied flatly. "Every family has secrets." She walked away. You were still laughing when Eunchae squeezed in beside Yunjin and dropped her phone on the table. "Okay. Update. I just got a DM from someone who saw the protest photo of you and Sunghoon on the student media account." You blinked. "They posted that?" She nodded. "Caption: 'Academic revolutionaries 😌✊' — it's already trending in the campus group chat." Jake leaned in, eyes wide. "You're going viral. You're flirt-activist famous." "I hate that." Sunghoon was staring at the table. You nudged him lightly with your foot. "You okay?" He nodded. "Just... new." "New?"

He looked up at you. "Being seen. By strangers." You paused. "I like it," he added quickly. "I think. Just not used to it."

You didn't push him. Just smiled. "You'll get used to it."

---

Food arrived. Conversation shifted. Yunjin started telling a story about her ex-girlfriend who used to protest everything — from tuition hikes to vending machine price changes.

"She once handcuffed herself to the campus cat statue because they took out the Matcha KitKats," she said, poking at her fries. "We broke up two weeks later. I loved her. But I also love breathing room."

"You date the worst people," Jake said, sipping his soda like it was tea. "Didn't your last ex say she hated music?" "She said she outgrew music."

Eunchae groaned. "That's like saying you outgrew joy." Sunghoon blinked. "Wait, do you all have exes?" Jake pointed at him. "Don't change the subject. You clearly don't. Spill." Sunghoon looked mildly cornered. "I've... dated. Kind of." You stared. "Kind of?"

"I went on a few dates. In first year. Nothing serious." Yunjin raised a brow. "Did you like her?" "She was nice," he said after a pause. Eunchae sipped her drink. "But?" "She made fun of my major. Said I was too intense."

You opened your mouth. "You're not—" Jake cut in. "Oh, he's intense. But it's hot." Sunghoon turned red again. Yunjin leaned forward. "So what is your type, then?" He blinked. "What?"

"Your type," she repeated. "You've been flirting for two weeks. You must have preferences." You watched him carefully. Sunghoon didn't look at anyone. Just traced the edge of his glass. Then, quietly, "People who aren't afraid to say what they want." You felt your stomach flutter.

He wasn't looking at you. But he didn't need to. Because the table went quiet for just long enough to make it obvious. Then Jake — thank god — cut the silence by coughing dramatically and announcing, "Well, my type are unavailable people with emotional issues, so I'll just keep suffering."

--

Later, after the food was gone and the noise had thinned, you found yourself standing outside Vespa's with Sunghoon while the others lingered behind to settle the bill. It was quiet. A soft breeze curled through the narrow street, leaves rustling, the smell of garlic and asphalt hanging in the air. You crossed your arms. "You survived your first social protest dinner." He nodded. "I liked it." You smiled. "Even the interrogations?" He glanced sideways. "Some of them." Silence again. Then—

"I liked what you said," he added, voice low.

You blinked. "About what?"

"In the square. About Theo not being your type."

Your breath caught. He didn't look at you when he said it. Just stared ahead. Calm. Still. But his hands were in his pockets. His jaw tight. You wanted to say something. Something real. Something you hadn't prepared as a lesson. But the door swung open behind you, and Jake's voice crashed the moment. "There you are! God, you two are always standing like you're in a movie scene. Come back. I'm starting round two of 'Rate My Ex.'"

You laughed. Sunghoon smiled. But the moment had already passed.

--

That night, you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling. You didn't dream about kissing him. You dreamed about the way he looked when he was thinking too hard — eyebrows slightly drawn, lower lip caught between his teeth. The way his voice changed when he said something honest. The way he looked at you when he thought you weren't watching. And the fact that, maybe, you weren't as unaffected as you thought. Maybe you were thinking too hard now, too.

__________

The campus library on Thursday afternoons was unusually quiet — too quiet for midterm season. Sunlight filtered through the high windows, slanting across the carpet in faded gold streaks, warming up even the coldest corners of the old fourth floor. You liked it here. It felt... removed. Peaceful. Neutral ground. Sunghoon was already there. You spotted him as soon as you walked in — same table near the back, same stupidly neat spread of books and flashcards and pastel highlighters organized by hue. He sat with his sleeves pushed to his elbows again (of course), legs stretched under the table, brows drawn slightly as he read.

He didn't look up when you dropped into the seat across from him.

"I got you a brownie," you said, sliding it across the table. He blinked. "What for?" "For being brave enough to survive a group dinner without combusting."

A soft smile tugged at his lips.

"I didn't combust."

"Mm. You got close."

"I kept my cool."

"You turned red when Jake said you had 'flirt potential.'"

"That's not a real phrase."

"It is now. I'm coining it."

He took the brownie. You watched him unwrap it carefully, like he didn't want to smudge the wrapper, then take a bite with all the elegance of someone raised by Google Docs and academic shame. It was cute. Disturbingly cute. You opened your laptop before your brain could wander any further.

---

You were supposed to be editing the structure for your final presentation. Instead, you found yourself watching him underline a passage in his notebook. He didn't underline normally. He used a ruler. A ruler. It was both tragic and weirdly endearing.

"Do you ever," you said casually, "relax?"

Sunghoon looked up. "I'm relaxed right now."

You snorted.

"You don't think I'm relaxed?" he asked, blinking.

"You're color-coding your highlighters."

He looked down at them. "That's just efficient."

"Sure it is."

You closed your laptop and folded your arms on the table. "Okay. Tell me something real."

He blinked. "Real?"

"No school talk. No flashcards. No flirting rules. Just something about you."

Sunghoon hesitated.

Then, quietly: "I wanted to be a musician when I was a kid."

You sat up straighter.

"You play?"

"I used to. Violin. Piano. My mom taught music."

You blinked. "What happened?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't exceptional."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't have kept going."

He looked down. "My dad thought it was a waste of time." You went quiet.

"I still play sometimes," he added after a moment. "Late at night. When no one's around." You stared at him. And for a second, the room felt smaller. Softer. More like a secret than a library.

--

Jake showed up twenty minutes later, plopping into the chair beside you with the elegance of a raccoon in a recycling bin.

"Okay, listen." Sunghoon jumped. You didn't.

Jake never knocked. "I need you both to tell me the truth," he said, slamming down a bag of popcorn and two iced coffees. "What do I wear to a film screening where I might accidentally run into two people I ghosted and one I'm still in love with?" You blinked. "What?" Jake ignored you. "Option A: leather jacket, statement rings, denial. Option B: 'I'm over it' sweater and clean Converse. Option C—"

"Therapy," Sunghoon said under his breath.

You choked on your coffee.

Jake glared. "Excuse me, Park Shakespeare."

"I'm just saying," Sunghoon said softly. "Maybe talk to them?"

Jake groaned. "God, why is the shyest person I know the one telling me to communicate."

You laughed so hard your ribs hurt.

Jake sank into his seat. "Anyway, it's not just about clothes. It's about power."

You blinked. "I thought you were going for closure."

"I'm going for dominance." He leaned over dramatically. "Besides, the one I'm in love with doesn't even know it. So it's fine."

You and Sunghoon both stared at him.

"...What?"

Jake popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth. "I said what I said." Then he got up and left like a smoke bomb — chaotic and unresolved.

You and Sunghoon sat in stunned silence.

"...Is he okay?" Sunghoon asked finally.

"No," you said. "But he's thriving."

--

Later, as the sun started sinking behind the buildings and casting golden slants across the table, your energy began to slip. Your fingers slowed. Your notes blurred. Sunghoon noticed.

"You're tired."

You rubbed your temple. "I pulled a near-all-nighter editing my media analysis." He reached over and pushed your water bottle toward you gently.

"Drink."

You blinked.

"Hydration prevents cognitive fatigue."

You stared at him. "You know that sounds like a medical drama line, right?" He smiled — just a little. "You listen better when I speak clinically." You drank the water. And tried not to notice how he was watching you. Again. Always.

---

By the time you packed up, the library was nearly empty. Sunghoon walked you out without saying anything. The hallway lights flickered softly, old wiring buzzing in the ceiling. You stopped at the entrance.

"So..." you said, fiddling with your bag strap. "Thanks. For the brownie support." He blinked. "You bought me the brownie." "Still counts."

He looked like he wanted to say something else. Something more. But then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. Froze.

"...Everything okay?" you asked. He hesitated. "My dad's in town." You blinked. "Oh." "He wants to meet. Dinner." You didn't know what to say to that. So you said: "Do you want to?" Sunghoon didn't answer right away. Then, softly: "Not really." Your heart ached a little. He shoved his phone back into his pocket like it was something venomous. Then met your eyes. "I'm glad I saw you today." You blinked. He didn't smile when he said it. He just meant it. And somehow, that hit harder.

_______

SUNGHOON'S POV

The restaurant was expensive.Not fancy — just old money. Quiet leather booths. Waiters who didn't write things down. Men in suits that didn't wrinkle when they moved. Sunghoon sat across from his father and counted the folds in his napkin to keep from biting his tongue. "How are your grades?" his father asked, cutting into his steak with a surgeon's precision. Sunghoon kept his voice even. "Top three percent." "Good. That's expected." He nodded. Didn't say thank you. It wouldn't have been received anyway. His father sipped his wine. "Any leadership positions this semester?" "I'm part of the AI ethics club." "That's not leadership." "I've been nominated for student rep. Elections are next month." "That's better." Silence. Sunghoon looked out the window. Thought about the square last weekend. The signs. The shouting. The way your fingers had brushed his when you handed him that marker. "You seeing anyone?" his father asked abruptly. Sunghoon's jaw clenched. His father never asked about dating. Never asked about anything soft. "I'm... working on a project. With someone." "A girl?"

Sunghoon nodded, slowly. "She's—smart." He waited. But his father didn't respond. Just went back to cutting his steak. Neat, silent, clean. Like he didn't care. Like none of it mattered. Sunghoon stared at his plate and thought: She makes me laugh. She makes me feel seen. I wish you knew what that felt like.

--

That night, you couldn't sleep. Your dorm was quiet. The window open just a little, letting the breeze sneak across your sheets. You lay awake staring at the ceiling, wondering why the world felt so heavy all of a sudden. Your phone buzzed once.

Jake: hey. want to hear something stupid.

You replied instantly:

you: always.

He didn't reply right away.

When he did, it wasn't a message.

It was a voicemail.

You stared at the screen for a full minute before pressing play.

Jake's voice, soft and half-laughing, came through the speaker:

"I think I'm still in love with someone who doesn't even remember what we had. And I think I ruin things just to prove I was right about them leaving."

"Anyway. Sorry. You probably don't want to hear this."

"But you're the only person who makes me feel like I'm not faking everything."

"Goodnight."

You didn't reply. You just stared at your phone until the screen went dark.

--

SUNGHOON'S POV

He didn't mean to text you. But he did.

[goodjap]: are you awake?

You replied in thirty seconds.

[you]: yeah. you okay?

There was a pause.

Then:

[goodjap]: can I call you?

You stared at the screen.

Then said:

[you]: yes.

Your phone rang.

You answered.

For the first few seconds, neither of you said anything.

Then he spoke. "I hate how quiet it is after I see him." You knew what he meant. "Did it go badly?" you asked. "No. That's the worst part. It just... never changes." You didn't know how to fix that. But you said, "I'm here."

And he went quiet. But he didn't hang up. You stayed on the line. Ten minutes. Twenty. Thirty. Eventually, you both stopped speaking altogether. You just... breathed. Together. In the dark. And somehow, that mattered more than any words.

___________

Yunjin was the one who suggested it. "Group dinner," she announced, bursting through your door with a tote bag full of frozen pasta, red wine in a travel mug, and a look that dared you to say no. "I'm tired of everyone spiraling in isolation. Tonight we spiral in sync." Jake immediately texted "do I need to wear pants?" followed by "jk unless?"

Eunchae offered her dorm's common room because her suitemates were out.

Sunghoon didn't say anything, just replied "ok" within thirty seconds of you asking.

You all met at seven. By seven-thirty, the pasta was boiling, the garlic bread was in the oven, and Jake had turned on a jazz playlist from Spotify titled "chill dinner party vibes but make it bisexual." Yunjin was stirring sauce like it owed her money.

Eunchae was setting out mismatched mugs because "aesthetics are a scam."

Sunghoon stood at the counter slicing cucumbers for a salad he never volunteered to make, sleeves rolled up, knife moving with quiet precision. You were next to him, elbow-to-elbow. Not on purpose. Not not on purpose. "I didn't know you could cook," you said, watching him slice. "I can't," he replied. "But I can follow instructions. Same thing." You smiled. "You're doing great." He glanced sideways. "You always say that." "Maybe I always mean it." He paused, but didn't reply. Instead, he handed you a cucumber slice. You popped it into your mouth and nodded. "Perfectly edible." "I'll take that as a win."

--

Dinner was chaotic in the way good things often are. You all sat cross-legged around Eunchae's coffee table, mismatched bowls balanced in laps, candle flickering in the center like it was the only thing holding the room together. Jake raised a toast with his mug of Sprite. "To protest signs, poor decisions, and the fact that none of us dropped out this week." You all clinked mugs. The first ten minutes were all chewing and fake insults. Then — slowly — real conversation slipped in.

Eunchae was the first. "My brother got into that tech bootcamp in Singapore," she said, stabbing her penne. "I'm proud of him. But also... now my parents are like, 'What's your plan? What are you building?'" You blinked. "You're building your own web comic from scratch." "Yeah, but that's not an app. It doesn't 'scale.'" Yunjin sighed. "God, I hate when success only counts if it fits into a startup pitch." Jake pointed his fork. "Capitalism has entered the group chat." You laughed. Sunghoon looked down at his plate. Then said, carefully, "My dad asked if I was wasting time." The room quieted.

You looked up. Sunghoon wasn't looking at anyone. He spoke like the words weren't meant for the air, just for the silence to hear. "He asked if I was doing anything that actually mattered. Or if I was just... filling my schedule to look impressive."

Eunchae whispered, "Damn." Jake reached over and squeezed Sunghoon's wrist. No jokes. No flair. Just warmth. Sunghoon smiled — just barely. Yunjin blew on her pasta. "You are doing things that matter." "You're showing up," you added. "You showed up for the protest. For the project. For us." Sunghoon met your eyes. Quietly, he said, "You make it easier to show up." No one spoke. Jake wiped a fake tear. "If I start crying I'm blaming the sauce." You threw a napkin at him.

--

Later, after plates were cleared and someone passed around a half-eaten tub of ice cream like a peace offering, the conversation turned to Jake. Yunjin was first. "So," she said, licking a spoon. "Film girl showed up." Jake sighed. "Of course you know." "You texted me at midnight saying 'her hair still smells like vanilla death.'" "That could've meant anyone."

Eunchae blinked. "How many people have you dated who smell like desserts?" Jake groaned and covered his face. "It doesn't matter. She's not even— I don't know. She didn't talk to me. She didn't not talk to me. She was just there. Looking like closure I haven't earned yet." Silence. Then you said, "Did you want her to talk to you?" Jake shrugged. "I don't know. I think I just wanted her to see me. Really see me. Not the version she edited out when she left." Yunjin passed him the ice cream. "You're worth seeing, Jake." He looked up. Eyes watery. "That's so gay." She smiled. "And true."

--

The room softened after that. Not with sadness, but with understanding.

Eunchae started talking about her comic again — her plans to enter a contest next month, how she wanted to draw rage without turning it ugly. Yunjin confessed that she was thinking of switching minors, even if it meant an extra semester.

Jake asked if it was wrong to be terrified of being vulnerable and being alone. You told him it wasn't. Sunghoon didn't talk much after that. But he stayed. He stayed when the playlist ended. He stayed when the lights dimmed. He stayed even when it was quiet again.

And when you walked him to the door, he looked at you like he was trying to remember the exact words to something he hadn't said yet. "I..." he started. "I like this." You tilted your head. "This?" He gestured vaguely — the hallway, the fading voices behind you. "People. Talking. Not pretending." You smiled. "Me too." Then you hesitated. And said, softly, "You make it easier too, you know."

His eyes flickered. You didn't touch. You didn't kiss. You just stood there — two people slowly turning toward each other, step by step, word by word. And it was enough. For now.

__________

The thing about academic limbo is that it doesn't announce itself. It creeps in like late-stage winter — not cold enough to warrant panic, not warm enough to feel like progress.

You're not drowning. You're treading water with a fake smile. And everyone around you is doing the same. Campus looked like it always did on Monday: students hunched over laptops in beanbags, political posters taped to benches, the occasional club trying to hand you a flier you'd pretend to read. But something in the air had shifted since the protest last week — a thin tension that clung to every hallway. Sunghoon noticed it too. You saw it in the way he lingered outside the library before walking in, how he watched people longer now, how his responses were a second too delayed, like his mind was always two exits ahead. You were starting to realize that Sunghoon didn't know how to be seen unless he was performing excellence.

And lately, your presence kept catching him mid-rehearsal.

--

He passed you a sticky note in class. It said: "Library after 4? We should prep that demo for the final week." You scribbled back: "Is this a flirting strategy? Because it's working." His ears flushed, and he didn't write again. But he smiled. Just barely.

--

You found him in your usual study corner at 4:10, back straight, laptop open, but the document untouched. He was staring out the window, expression unreadable. "Hey," you said, settling beside him. "You waiting on divine inspiration or...?"

"Just thinking," he said. "Do you ever wonder if we're learning how to argue more than we're learning how to listen?" You blinked. "That's either the most profound thing you've ever said, or you're avoiding the PowerPoint." He didn't laugh. He just looked at you — really looked. Quietly. Curiously. So you said nothing more. And opened your laptop. The silence between you wasn't awkward anymore. It just was. Somehow, that felt like progress.

--

Half an hour in, your phones started buzzing at the same time.

Jake:

"Group chat. Emergency. We've been ambushed."

Yunjin:

"Come to the quad. It's the elections. Jay just dropped the teaser."

You exchanged glances with Sunghoon.

He sighed. "Do I want to know?"

"I think we're about to find out."

--

The quad was chaos. Jay had somehow printed glossy posters overnight with slogans like: "Reclaim Your Voice — Vote for Real Transparency."

"Power to the People — Not the PR Machine."

He wasn't running. But he was managing the campaign of someone who was. And it was someone you recognized. Mina Baek. Third-year. Former debate champion. Once suspended for publicly calling out the Dean during a live forum. Now grinning under Jay's arm like a rebranded revolutionary. You found Jake and Yunjin near the fountain. "Jay's trying to own the election," Yunjin said. "He's pushing 'reform' with the same hand that silences us."

Jake nodded grimly. "He's turning protest energy into performance again." Sunghoon stared at the posters. "It's smart." Everyone turned to him. "I mean," he continued carefully, "he's reframing anger into something palatable. He's taking the noise and giving it a soundtrack. That's... effective." You crossed your arms. "That doesn't make it right." "I didn't say it was." You watched him then — the way his fingers tapped against his thigh, the slight furrow in his brow, the way he calculated even as he listened.

Sunghoon wasn't just smart. He was dangerous when he decided to care. And maybe that scared even him. Later that night, you found yourself texting him. you're a terrifyingly good strategist, you know that? He replied six minutes later. i don't know how to be anything else.

--

Meanwhile, Jake had his own drama brewing. You found him editing sound for his new short film at the media center. "Scene six is ruined," he muttered. "Her mic cut out. And I can't re-record her because she ghosted me again." You sat beside him, passing him a can of coffee.

"You know you don't have to fix people who vanish." "I know," he sighed. "But I keep wondering if I'm just bad at staying. You looked at him. "You're great at staying. You've stayed for all of us." Jake smiled without teeth. "Except myself."

--

In the background of it all, Eunchae's comic was going viral on student boards. One strip in particular — two characters arguing in a lecture hall about who gets to define justice — was being shared with hashtags like #DebateMeIRL and #OurVoicesMatter. She hadn't expected it. Now everyone wanted an interview. A feature. A panel. "Why do they care now?" she asked, breathless, curling into the couch beside you in the common room. "When I was writing in the corner of the cafeteria no one even looked twice." "Because now they think they can use your voice to echo their own," you said gently. "It's not about seeing you. It's about reflecting themselves." Eunchae blinked. "Shit. That's so real. I hate it." "Then keep drawing the truth."

--

And then, at the end of the week — the almost happened. You and Sunghoon were leaving the library late after reviewing a revised draft of your presentation. The air was cool, campus half-lit, your steps echoing quietly in sync. "Wait," you said, pausing under the courtyard lamp. "Your shoelace." He looked down. "Oh." He crouched to fix it, and when he stood up again — you were close. Too close. Neither of you moved. Your breath caught. So did his. And for one second, you thought— He looked away. "Goodnight," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "Goodnight, Sunghoon." He walked off into the dark. And you stood there. Not kissed. Not touched. But somehow, still completely undone.

__________

You weren't surprised when Jake didn't show up for the first group meeting that weekend. You were surprised when he didn't even text. By Sunday night, the group chat was full of check-ins, emojis, increasingly dramatic threats from Eunchae ("if you're dead I'm resurrecting you just to slap you") and one unpunctuated message from Yunjin: checked his location. he's at the editing lab. he hasn't left since yesterday.

Sunghoon looked up from his spot on the rug, where he'd been reorganizing your flashcards. "Should we go?"

You didn't answer right away. You stared at your phone for another second, then grabbed your hoodie and said, "Yeah. Let's go."

--

The editing lab was on the second floor of the media building — always cold, always humming. You pushed the door open softly, greeted by the glow of blue light and looping audio. Jake was there. Sitting cross-legged in front of his monitor, wearing the same hoodie from two days ago, hair a mess, dark circles visible even in the LCD flicker. He didn't turn when you walked in. Sunghoon stayed by the door. You moved closer.

"Hey," you said gently. Jake kept clicking. "I just need to get the pacing right for scene eight," he mumbled. "It drags. The silence after her line, it's too long. It sounds desperate." You sat beside him on the floor. "It's okay to be desperate sometimes." Jake blinked. His hand dropped from the mouse. "I'm not," he said. "I just... didn't want to let her ruin it."

"Her?" Sunghoon asked from behind. Jake laughed bitterly. "The girl I wrote it for. The one who said it 'wasn't deep enough' to be about her. She said she wanted something honest, and when I showed her the script, she said it felt calculated." You winced. "Yikes."

"I don't know how to not calculate," Jake muttered. "I grew up learning how to read people. I thought that was what made a good storyteller. But now I think I just... reflect whatever someone wants to see." You said nothing. Neither did Sunghoon. Not because you didn't care. But because you knew. Knew what it felt like to curate yourself so well you forgot what was real. Knew what it meant to fear your own silence. Knew what it cost to perform truth when no one really wanted it. Eventually, Jake exhaled.

"I think I need a nap." You smiled softly. "I think you need a hug." Jake leaned sideways into you like a deflated balloon. You caught him without hesitation. His forehead thudded against your shoulder. Sunghoon watched. Quietly. Then stepped forward, awkwardly crouched, and reached out to gently pat Jake's shoulder. The motion was stiff, but the intention was there. Jake blinked up at him. "Thanks, bro." Sunghoon cleared his throat. "I, um. I admire your... structure." Jake blinked again. You burst out laughing.

--

Later, the three of you sat outside on the steps, sharing a vending machine coffee like it was sacred. Jake was half-asleep on your left shoulder. Sunghoon sat stiffly on your right.

"I don't know what I'm doing," you admitted. "With what?" Sunghoon asked. "With any of this. The protest stuff. Our project. My entire thesis. It's all starting to feel like a stunt." Sunghoon looked down at his hands. "I think stunts matter more than we admit." You frowned. "How so?" He glanced up, eyes unreadable. "If you make someone pause — even for five seconds — maybe that's enough to change something. Doesn't have to be big. Just... one person seeing something differently." You were quiet. Then: "Who changed yours?" Sunghoon paused. Then he said, "You." And before you could ask what he meant — Jake snored. You both looked over. Jake had passed out fully, cheek smushed against your hoodie, arms crossed like a disgruntled toddler. Sunghoon smiled. You watched him smile. And something tightened in your throat. Almost.

--

The next day, Eunchae pulled you aside. "I'm being harassed," she whispered dramatically, sliding into the booth beside you in the dining hall. "By?" "Jay." You blinked. "Explain." "He wants to commission me for a custom piece to advertise the student debates. Says it's a 'creative call to civic duty.' I say it's propaganda with a paintbrush." You grinned. "What did you say?" "I told him I don't work with tyrants unless they pay in boba." You laughed. She leaned closer. "But also... what if I do it?" You paused. "Do you want to?" "I want the exposure. And the platform. But I don't want him to twist my work into his narrative." You nodded slowly. "Then ask to publish a written artist's note with the final piece. He'll think it's harmless. But you can use it to control the context." Eunchae stared at you. "You're evil." "No. I'm learning."

--

Meanwhile, Yunjin had taken up unofficial security duties. You found her walking the quad with a clipboard and a mean expression. "Why do you look like you're about to fight the Student Council president?" She narrowed her eyes. "Because I am." You blinked. "They're threatening to cut funding for independent campus publications. Says we're 'radicalizing the freshmen.'" You sighed. "So what's the plan?" "Public exposure. A timeline of every time they've silenced minority voices, fact-checked with receipts, signed off with student testimonies." You whistled low. "Remind me never to get on your bad side." Yunjin smirked. "Too late. You're already on my petty side."

--

Back in class, you and Sunghoon were starting to feel... different. Not in a sudden, obvious way. But in the way his eyes found yours quicker. In the way your jokes didn't fluster him as much. In the way he didn't pull away when your elbows touched during note reviews. Something was shifting. You didn't name it. He didn't explain it. But it was there. And for now, that was enough.

_______

The campus was buzzing again — not in the messy aftermath of protests or the adrenaline of student uprisings, but in something more dangerous: Campaign fever. Jay had set the clock ticking. Voting day was two weeks out, and somehow, every bulletin board, hallway, coffee cup, and group chat had been plastered with sleek neon ads. Campaign videos were streaming on every student media screen — featuring Mina Baek mid-speech, framed like a heroine. Jay's voice narrating in poetic cadence. Carefully edited protest footage rebranded as campaign rallies.

You stared up at one in the common area. It showed a pan to the protest leaders from last month.

Including you.

Your face frozen mid-yell, eyes fierce, holding a sign someone else made.

"I didn't approve this," you muttered.

Yunjin appeared at your side, arms folded. "None of us did."

"They're using the movement as a launchpad." She glanced at the screen. "They always do."

"Then what are we going to do?" Yunjin was quiet for a moment. Then:

"Nothing. Not yet. Let them overplay their hand."

You turned to her.

She didn't blink.

You suddenly remembered she was the same girl who'd once filed an anonymous 13-page complaint against the journalism department for burying sexual harassment claims — with redacted footnotes and hyperlinks. She never rushed. She watched. And waited to strike.

--

Meanwhile, Jake had recovered. Too much, maybe. He burst into your apartment kitchen that night with a new script idea, an untouched sandwich, and a deep desire to be loved. "It's about media weaponization and silent whistleblowers," he said, "but in the form of a silent film."

Sunghoon — sitting on the couch awkwardly nursing a mug of tea — tilted his head. "How would anyone know it's about whistleblowers if no one speaks?" Jake grinned. "That's the point." You raised an eyebrow. "Are we the target audience?" "No," he said. "But you will be the cast." You gave him a look. Sunghoon tried not to smile.

--

Later, you sat with Sunghoon while Jake raided your fridge. The quiet returned — but this time, it was different. Easier. Warmer.

Your leg brushed his. Neither of you moved. You took a breath. He took one too. And then—

Your phone buzzed.

Jay 🙄: Meet me at the old media stairwell. Alone. 15 min.

You frowned.

Sunghoon glanced over. "Everything okay?"

"Jay wants to meet."

Sunghoon straightened. "Now?"

"Yeah. I think I'll go."

"I'll come with—"

"He said alone."

A pause. Then, quietly, Sunghoon said: "Text me after." You nodded. But as you stood, he reached out — and tugged your sleeve. You turned. "I'm serious," he said, voice low. "Don't trust him. Not completely." You searched his eyes. "I don't," you said. And left.

--

The media stairwell was barely lit. You found Jay leaning against the railing, jacket unzipped, chewing on a toothpick like he'd just walked out of a noir film and into your college drama.

"Thanks for coming," he said smoothly.

"Cut to the chase."

He chuckled. "Still direct. I like that."

You crossed your arms. "What do you want?"

"I'm offering you a column."

You blinked. He continued: "In the Tribune. A weekly space. No oversight. Total freedom. Your name front and center. Full credit."

You stared. "Why?"

"Because people listen to you. And Mina needs that. Your voice — authentic, sharp, raw — it's what this campaign needs to close the trust gap. You'd be the bridge." "No," you said flatly.

Jay tilted his head. "You haven't even thought about it."

"I don't need to."

"Don't you want change?"

"Not your kind of change."

He stepped forward, voice lower. "This is bigger than your pride."

"No," you said again, quieter this time. "This is because of it." Jay's expression didn't change. But his eyes flickered — something like calculation, maybe approval. "You're harder to buy than I thought." You didn't answer. But your silence said everything.

--

You came back to your apartment 40 minutes later. Sunghoon was still there, alone on the couch, fiddling with one of Jake's stress cubes. He looked up immediately. You didn't say anything at first. Just threw yourself down beside him with a groan.

"Well?" he asked, softly.

You turned to him. "He tried to recruit me."

Sunghoon blinked. "And?"

"I said no."

He exhaled — not relief exactly, but something adjacent.

You sat in silence.

Then he said, "I'm glad."

You looked over. He wasn't smiling. But he looked at you like something important had just shifted. Like you'd passed a test he didn't realize he was giving you. You blinked. "Why?" "Because you're not him," he said. "And... I think sometimes I forget that." You said nothing.

But your heart — traitorous, sensitive — thudded a little harder.

--

The next day in class, something rare happened.

Sunghoon challenged a professor. It was subtle — a disagreement about the framing of dissent in civil law theory — but you watched him sit straighter, speak slower, eyes sharp and calm. And the professor — a man notorious for talking over students — actually listened. The class went quiet. Afterwards, you nudged his arm as you packed up.

"What was that?" you teased.

He looked confused. "What?"

"You. Standing up. Speaking. You went full vampire lawyer mode."

He blinked. You grinned. "I'm proud of you." He flushed. "Don't say it like that." "Like what?" "Like it's... special." "It is. You're special."

Silence. Then—

He turned. And smiled. Not the half-smile. Not the polite one. But a real one. Teeth and all. And yeah — his canines? Sharp. You filed that away for later.

_________

Friday arrived with a headache. Not yours — Jake's.

"I think my brain's melting," he groaned into the throw pillow on your couch, blanket over his head like a corpse in a student film. "I've seen scene 12 so many times I'm starting to hear her line in my sleep."

You sat beside him, cross-legged, sipping coffee. "What line?" Jake peeked from under the blanket and mimicked in a broken falsetto: "Why didn't you run? You could've left me."

Then, in his normal voice: "She says it right after the betrayal, but I can't tell if it lands." Sunghoon — who was perched stiffly on the floor next to the coffee table, flipping through a journal — looked up and said, "It does."

Jake blinked. "You've seen it?"

"You showed it to me yesterday. On the projector."

Jake tilted his head. "Wait... did you stay the whole time?"

Sunghoon nodded, hesitant. "You didn't notice?"

Jake sat up like a cartoon character. "Dude. I thought you left when I went to get snacks."

"I didn't want to interrupt," Sunghoon said, adjusting his sleeves. "It felt... private."

Jake stared. You stared. Then Jake looked at you, wide-eyed. "He's actually turning human." You grinned. "Let's not jinx it." Sunghoon frowned. "I've always been—" Jake dramatically tossed the pillow at him. "Silence, vampire."

--

By afternoon, the apartment was chaotic. Eunchae was running late. Yunjin was texting you updates from campus. Jake was pacing around with a highlighter tucked behind his ear, half a rice cake in one hand, his laptop open to the tech sheet for his short film debut tomorrow.

"We need to finalize the promo caption!" he shouted from the kitchen.

"I thought it was 'Silence is the loudest scream,'" you called back.

"I'm workshopping that," he said. "What about: Sometimes, what's left unsaid is the real confession?" Sunghoon, still curled into your beanbag chair with your dog-eared law journal, muttered, "Too long."

Jake reappeared in the doorway. "You're right."

He looked possessed. "What if we just call it Mute. One word. Bold. Stark. Cinematic."

Eunchae entered at that exact moment, sunglasses on indoors, iced coffee in each hand. "Are we naming a movie or a designer perfume?"

"Both," Jake said. "Preferably."

She dropped the coffees on the table. "You all look like you haven't slept in 48 hours."

"We haven't," you and Jake chorused.

Sunghoon looked up. "I slept."

Eunchae rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. That's why your skin is glowing and the rest of us look like sad pottery."

---

That evening, the plan was simple: everyone would crash at your place for a final prep night. Except nothing was ever simple. Eunchae got a call from Jay asking to confirm her presence at Mina's upcoming art fundraiser. "He's buttering me up with sweet words and false promises," she said. "Like a man with a mixtape and no talent."

Yunjin stormed in an hour later with two USB drives and fury in her voice. "The university is changing the campus paper's layout to give more space to student council ads. They're squeezing our entire front-page op-ed into the corner like an obituary."

Jake offered her a cookie. She took it and sulked dramatically on your floor. Sunghoon passed her his highlighter wordlessly. She blinked. "Thanks."

He nodded once. You watched that. Then, without even thinking, turned away with a small smile. Almost.

---

Dinner was chaotic. You cooked noodles. Jake made a weird attempt at fusion ramen. Eunchae spilled chili oil on the floor. Yunjin set off your fire alarm while trying to toast garlic. Sunghoon... quietly set the table.

No one asked him to. He just did it. Water glasses, napkins, forks aligned, bowls spaced evenly. When he finished, he stood there awkwardly, unsure where to go next. You noticed. You tugged on his sleeve. "Sit next to me."

He blinked. "Okay." He sat. Close. A little too close. Your knees brushed under the table, but neither of you moved.

Eunchae noticed. She said nothing. But you caught the little smirk she gave Yunjin.

--

Later that night, everyone was stuffed and half-sleepy from food coma and burnout. You threw on a documentary for background noise. Jake claimed your beanbag. Yunjin was sprawled on the couch. Eunchae had her head in your lap, already dozing.

Sunghoon hovered awkwardly until you pointed at the floor space beside you. He sat — legs crossed, fingers twitching, trying to find a position that felt natural.

Then, slowly, very slowly, he leaned his head back and rested it against the couch — just next to your thigh. It was nothing. And somehow, it was everything. You didn't say a word. You just stayed still. Almost.

--

At midnight, everyone left except Sunghoon. He helped clean up without being asked. Wiped counters. Dried dishes. Moved slowly, carefully. Like if he did it quietly enough, you might not notice he hadn't said goodbye. You leaned against the sink, arms crossed.

"So..."

He turned. "Yeah?"

You paused. The air felt... heavier. Not thick with tension. Just charged. Like both of you were waiting for something that never quite arrived.

"You're staying?" you asked softly.

He blinked. "Do you want me to?"

You didn't answer right away.

Then: "Yeah."

He looked down. "Okay."

And that was it. You watched him fold your dishrag like it mattered. You watched his fingers tremble just a little. You noticed the slope of his neck, the arch of his back under his sweater, the way his jaw clenched when you said nothing. You stepped closer.

He didn't move. Just stood there, hands still, breathing shallow. And you? You almost said something. But you didn't. Because this wasn't that moment. Not yet.

--

The next morning, you woke up on the couch. Sunghoon was in the armchair, asleep, curled under your favorite blanket, headphones still around his neck, Jake's script open in his lap. The sun lit the room softly. Quietly.

And as you sat up, rubbed your eyes, and looked at him — really looked at him — you felt something flicker in your chest. Not lightning. Not fireworks. Just... warmth. Almost love. But not yet.

__________

There's a moment just before the start of something — a hush, a pause, like the air's holding its breath. You felt it all week. Not dramatic. Not romantic. But persistent. Like a shift in gravity every time Park Sunghoon stood too close. The almosts were turning sharper. The air around him heavier. His silences weren't nervous anymore — they were loaded. But no one said anything. Especially not you. Especially not him. Not yet.

--

The week began with the screening.

Jake's film Mute played in the dimmed lecture hall to a packed student crowd, glitchy lights, and even glitchier audio — Eunchae's laptop had crashed twice during setup, and Jake had screamed into a paper cup about creative sabotage. Still, the film played. The room went quiet. And for eleven minutes, everyone watched in silence as Jake's story unfolded in grayscale: a whistleblower, a silent confession, a girl screaming with no sound. When it ended, people clapped. Slowly at first, then louder. Jake didn't move. He looked frozen. His fingers shook. You squeezed his hand without saying a word. Then Sunghoon — standing beside him, unnoticed until now — leaned down and said something so quiet, only Jake heard it. Jake turned to him. Then burst out laughing. He hugged Sunghoon. "You're insane." You blinked. "What did he say?"

Jake grinned, eyes wet. "He said, 'if this flopped I was ready to lie for you.'"

You turned to Sunghoon. He didn't deny it. He just looked at you and said, "I'm loyal." A pause. Then, lower — just for you: "To the people who matter." Your breath caught. But you said nothing. Because that? That was bold. And it was only Monday.

--

Wednesday night, you and Sunghoon found yourselves stuck in the law library after closing — Jake had stolen your apartment keys to clean up glitter from Eunchae's campaign collages, and Yunjin was out cold from pulling two all-nighters. So you sat across from each other at the study tables, surrounded by stacks of books, untouched highlighters, and the warm buzz of dim reading lamps.

You'd been working on your notes for an upcoming moot trial. He'd been reviewing past case transcripts, occasionally glancing over at your scribbles. At some point, you kicked off your shoes. Your socked foot nudged his knee. You didn't even realize. He didn't move. Ten minutes later, you felt the lightest pressure against your ankle. A nudge. Careful. Barely there. You looked up. He didn't flinch. Just raised his brows slightly. Then went back to reading. You swallowed. That was new. You tried to focus again — really, you did. But then he reached across the table to slide one of your sticky notes closer to him, and his fingers brushed yours.

You looked at him sharply. He met your eyes for just a second too long. You blinked. He turned away, like nothing happened. You almost cursed out loud.

--

That Friday, you caught a cold. Which meant: headache, runny nose, no voice, and a complete inability to function. Jake brought soup. Eunchae brought gossip. Yunjin brought lecture notes. But it was Sunghoon who stayed. Not the whole day. But long enough. He knocked once, entered softly, and set down a bag with tissue packets, a ginger shot, and — inexplicably — a lemon tart.

"You like citrus," he said.

You blinked at him from under three blankets. "How did you know?"

He flushed. "You always eat around the orange Skittles, but keep the lemon ones."

You stared.

"Also, you order lemon tea. Like. Every time."

You opened your mouth. Then closed it again. Sunghoon looked down. Then added, quietly: "I pay attention." You didn't say anything. Not because you didn't want to — but because your heart was in your throat. And your nose was too stuffed to speak anyway.

--

That night, your fever finally broke. You woke up sweaty, confused, and reached for your water. The glass was full. You blinked. Then turned your head. Sunghoon was asleep on your couch. Still in his jacket. One arm over his eyes. Your cat curled on his chest like it was normal. You swallowed. And then noticed your charger plugged in. Your notes stacked. A tiny lemon candy by your pillow.

Oh.

So this is how you fall for someone. Not with fireworks. Not even with words. But with lemon candies. And sharp glances. And feet under the table. Almost.

--

Saturday. You were mostly better — not perfect, but not dying — and Sunghoon was still hovering. Quietly. Efficiently. Jake cornered you in the hallway. "He likes you," he said bluntly. You choked on your tea. "What?" "He. Likes. You." You blinked. "No he doesn't." "He does," Jake insisted. "He's getting bolder. In his weird, stupid way. Like when he said 'I'm loyal'? Are you kidding me? That's foreplay. That's his foreplay." You flushed. "He's just being nice." Jake pointed at you dramatically. "That man has memorized your Skittle preferences and brought you a lemon tart unprompted. If this was fanfiction, you'd be pregnant." "SIM JAEYUN." "I'm just saying," he shrugged. "If he starts talking about your voice or touching your wrist when you pass the pen, I'm calling it." You shoved him. "Go bother Eunchae."

--

That evening, Sunghoon texted you.

rizzlord 69: do you want to study?

rizzlord 69: or just sit in the same room and pretend we're being productive

You smiled.

And replied:

YOU: i'll bring snacks. but if you touch my notes again i'm filing a restraining order.

A pause.

Then:

rizzlord 69: you'd like that

You blinked.

YOU: what does that mean

rizzlord 69: idk

rizzlord 69: sounded kind of hot in my head

rizzlord 69: i'm deleting this

Your heart stopped. Then pounded. You stared at your screen. Then texted back:

YOU: i'm keeping the screenshots for evidence

rizzlord 69: criminal

YOU: proud

---

You didn't know it yet. But that message? That was the beginning. The first time he flirted — really flirted. Not by accident. Not by silence. But on purpose. It wasn't much. But it was a crack in the door. And the boldness? It was coming. Just very, very slowly.

_________

You'd expected the study session to be awkward. It wasn't. It was worse — it was dangerous. Because sitting across from Park Sunghoon while pretending to revise legal frameworks was starting to feel like Russian roulette with your self-control. Not because of anything obvious. No. Because of how he was looking at you. Not constantly. Not dramatically. Just... deliberately. Like he was actually seeing you, and not trying to hide that fact anymore.

--

He came over with snacks this time. Grapes, of all things. You'd blinked at them and said, "What are we, Victorian children?" He said, "You eat slower when you're focused. Grapes are quiet." You stared. He shrugged, calm, folding his long limbs onto the couch beside you. That was bold. And the thing was — he didn't even seem nervous anymore. Just quiet. Collected. Like he'd figured something out and wasn't telling you yet.

---

Two hours in, it got worse. You were explaining how a counter-argument worked for your mock debate — something about dual culpability in fraud cases — and you leaned forward, waving a pen in the air as you spoke. He watched your mouth. You didn't imagine it. His eyes tracked the way you said culpability like it was a promise. Your voice caught halfway through your sentence. "...so the whole point is that intent and—uh—execution—are—"

He raised an eyebrow. You snapped your mouth shut. He didn't say anything. But he smiled. Not big. Not soft. Just... slightly smug. Like he knew. And for a second, you wanted to kick him. Or kiss him. Same thing.

--

It didn't help that he'd changed clothes. Nothing dramatic — just a soft, black t-shirt and sweats, both slightly loose, but not baggy enough to hide much. His biceps looked unfair. Worse were the sleeves. Short enough to reveal his forearms, flexing lightly whenever he reached for your notes. He had nice hands. You'd noticed before. But now, it was like he wanted you to. And the worst part? You think he knew that too. You were lying on your stomach now, arms sprawled, face smooshed into your pillow. "I'm gonna die," you muttered.

Sunghoon flipped another page. "Of what?" "Academic heartbreak," you mumbled. "And your arms." He snorted. "You've got arms." "Yeah, but mine don't make people question their moral compass." He paused. You looked up. He was staring down at you. Calm. Measured. But something flickered behind his eyes. Then — slowly — he said, "What exactly do mine make you question?" Your breath stalled. You didn't look away. "Everything." He smiled — barely. "Good." You turned your face into the pillow. "Don't do that," he added softly. You blinked. "What?" "Hide your face." You turned slowly. He met your gaze. "I like it." Oh. Well. Okay.

--

You went quiet after that. And so did he. But the silence wasn't awkward anymore. It was thick. Heavy. A little fucked. A little... hot.

Later that evening, Yunjin dropped by to return a jacket you'd left at the media room. She stepped inside, took one look at the two of you on the couch — your legs tangled in the blanket, his hair slightly messy, you both pretending to be reading separate things — and blinked."Well," she said. "Looks like I should've knocked harder."

You sat up immediately. "It's not—" Sunghoon beat you to it. "We're studying." Yunjin smirked. "I bet." You threw a pillow at her. She caught it. Then turned to Sunghoon, eyes narrowing. "You corrupting our girl, Park?"

Sunghoon shrugged. "She started it." You froze. Yunjin raised an eyebrow. You looked at him — really looked at him — and saw it: the slight tilt of his head. The corner of his lip twitching. The almost-smile. He was teasing. In front of people. You wanted to die. Yunjin cackled. "God, you're both disasters. I'm leaving before this turns into a porno." You groaned. "Yunjin, please." "I said what I said." She winked at Sunghoon. "Good luck, loverboy." He just leaned back. Didn't deny it. You stared at him after she left. He looked back at you. And for a second — just one — he let his eyes drag from your lips to your throat and back up again.

Then he blinked. Gone. You said nothing. But you didn't breathe right for the next hour. By the time he left that night, you felt like you'd just survived an emotional marathon. He paused at the door. You stood next to him.

"Thanks for today," you said, voice quieter than you meant it to be. He looked at you. Said nothing. Then — slowly — lifted a hand and brushed your hair back behind your ear. Your heart stopped. "I'll see you tomorrow," he murmured. Then turned and walked out. You stood there for ten full seconds. Then collapsed on your bed and screamed into your pillow. Because that man just tucked your hair behind your ear like it was a sex scene. You were not okay. And neither was your heart.

_______

By Sunday afternoon, it became a matter of personal pride. Park Sunghoon had been flustering you all week — casually, sneakily, like it wasn't calculated — and your ego was taking psychic damage. So today? Today, you'd fight back. With intention. Not desperation. You were going to fluster him. Properly. Cleanly. With poise. With dignity. And maybe with the tank top that fit you just a little too well. Strictly for scientific purposes.

--

He'd invited you to his place this time. Just to "study," of course — but Sunghoon didn't realize he'd accidentally created the perfect trap for himself.

His apartment was weirdly clean. Bookshelves full of law reviews and graphic novels. A few empty water bottles by his bed. A worn hoodie hanging on the back of a chair that definitely smelled like him. Your downfall was going to smell like laundry detergent and warm skin. He handed you a drink when you arrived. "Ginger ale."

"Why?"

"Because you like lemon. And ginger is lemon-adjacent."

You blinked. "That's not real logic." He smiled faintly. "It worked, didn't it?" You glared. He smirked. This was war.

--

The study session started predictably enough. You sat cross-legged on his bed with your laptop, surrounded by outlines and pens, while he leaned back against the headboard beside you, posture too casual for someone so dangerous.

For a while, you tried to focus. Really. But then his knee brushed yours under the blankets. And then again. And again. You turned to him. "Sunghoon." "Hm?"

"Stop touching me with your knee."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"It's accidental."

You narrowed your eyes. He didn't move. You raised your eyebrows. "You want to go?" He blinked. "Go where?" "Into battle."

He smiled — small. "I'm always ready."

Your heart stuttered. You turned back to your screen. Okay. Time to deploy the weapon.

--

Phase 1: The Tank Top Adjustment. You shifted your posture. Arms over your head. Stretching. The fabric rose. You caught the flicker in his eyes before he looked away. He cleared his throat. You almost grinned. "One–zero," you muttered. "What?"

"Nothing."

--

Phase 2: The Casual Touch.

You pointed something out in your notes and leaned in — just a bit closer than necessary — your shoulder brushing his chest. His breath hitched. You tilted your head. "You good?" He nodded. Too quickly. You bit your lip. Then, barely above a whisper: "You're blushing." He was. You saw it now — just a pink bloom along his cheekbones. Barely there. But real. His lips parted, like he wanted to deny it. He didn't. Instead, he met your gaze — steady, slow. "You're doing it on purpose," he murmured. Your heart skipped. "Doing what?" He didn't answer right away. Then, voice low: "Trying to ruin me." You blinked. Your mouth went dry. He tilted his head.

"You're good at it." You opened your mouth — nothing came out. He leaned in just slightly, voice brushing your skin like silk. "You think I haven't noticed how you talk to Jake when I'm around?" You froze.

His eyes dropped to your lips. "You think I don't see how you bite your pen when you're trying to piss me off?" Your breath caught. "I see everything," he whispered.

You swallowed. "I'm just letting you win," he added, "because you look cute when you think you're in control." Your jaw dropped. "Sunghoon—" He leaned back. Smiled. And blushed again. You stared. "What the hell," you muttered. He shrugged, very pink. "I'm learning."

--

You didn't speak for a full minute. He went back to reviewing a document like he hadn't just verbally set you on fire. You sat there. Stunned. Hot. Weirdly proud. Because that was flirting. From Park Sunghoon. And even if his ears were still red, he hadn't backed down.

--

Later that night, you both took a break to make popcorn. His kitchen was dim and quiet, lit only by the soft overhead light and the glow of the microwave. You leaned on the counter beside him. "So. You're bold now." He didn't look at you. "Sometimes." "You practice that line?" "No." "Liar." He glanced sideways. "Okay. Maybe a little." You smirked. "I knew it." "You inspired me." You blinked. He reached for the popcorn bowl. Then paused. "I like the way you look when you're trying to win," he said. You turned to face him. He met your eyes. You stepped closer. "Do I win?" He tilted his head. "You try very hard," he murmured. You grinned. "That's not a no." "It's not a yes either." "Coward."

He raised an eyebrow. "Careful."

"Or what?" He said nothing. Just popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. You blinked.

"What—"

"Quiet," he said. "You talk too much." Your jaw dropped. He popped another one into his own mouth and smiled — pleased, a little smug. You didn't recover for the next ten minutes.

--

After that, the mood somehow softened. He handed you a hoodie — his — and you slipped it on without thinking. He watched. Didn't say anything. But he stared longer than necessary. You caught him. He didn't look away. Just said, "You look good in black." You tugged the sleeves down. "So do you." He didn't blink. "I like it better on you." You clutched the hem. He went back to his notes like he hadn't just killed you. By the time you were both back in bed, side by side with your laptops open and shoulders almost touching, you felt the room shift. Still quiet. Still warm. But charged. Like everything almost happened. But didn't. Like you could kiss him. But didn't. And he could kiss you. But wouldn't. Not yet. So instead, he said: "I think I like you more when you're not trying to fluster me." You blinked. "Why?" "You're already dangerous."

He paused. Then, without looking at you: "But you're kind. And you listen. And I think you'd break your own heart before you hurt someone else." You turned to him.

"Sunghoon..." His voice was low. "I just wanted you to know."

You looked down. Your heart swelled. And something inside you ached. Because you wanted to say something — something true. But the words stuck. So you reached for his hand.And he let you take it. No jokes. No smirks. Just silence. And warmth. And maybe, just maybe, love. Eventually.

_________

Sunghoon's POV 

You weren't doing it on purpose. That was the worst part. Sunghoon knew you were just talking — about culpability and counter-arguments and something about fraud law — but none of it mattered, because all he could hear was the way you said execution like it was something physical. He blinked. Tried to focus on the case study in front of him. His fingers twitched, tapping the corner of the paper like that would fix his brain. It didn't. You stretched. Arms over your head. Shirt lifting. Skin flashing just enough to make him forget the meaning of precedent. Sunghoon swallowed hard. Looked down. Felt his ears burn. You were going to kill him. And you didn't even know it. Or maybe you did. Because when you leaned closer, pretending to point at a paragraph, your shoulder brushed his chest — soft, warm, intentional.

He almost stopped breathing. You tilted your head. "You good?" He nodded.

Too fast. His body was so obvious. You'd noticed. He could feel you noticing. Which meant — game on.

He didn't know what changed. Maybe it was how comfortable he was with you now. Maybe it was how naturally you made yourself at home in his space. Maybe it was that little twitch of your mouth when you realized you'd made him blush. But something shifted. And he leaned into it.

"You're doing it on purpose," he murmured.

You blinked. "Doing what?" He let the silence sit. Watched the way your throat moved when you swallowed.

"Trying to ruin me." Your eyes went wide. And god — that look on your face. He wanted to laugh. Or kiss you. Same thing. So he kept going. Quiet, bold. "You think I haven't noticed how you talk to Jake when I'm around?" Your mouth parted. "You think I don't see how you bite your pen like you want me to fail a midterm on purpose?" Your hands curled into the blanket. "I see everything."

He let it hang there. Then added, soft: "I'm just letting you win." Your eyes darkened. His pulse spiked. And then he blushed again. Because you were so close and so pretty and still looking at him like that, and he knew he was playing a dangerous game, but god — you were worth every risk. He tried to play it cool. Tried to breathe. But when you turned your face to the side, hiding your expression in your sleeve — the tiniest flustered movement — his stomach did something awful and wonderful at the same time. Because that was when he realized something: He didn't want to win. Not really. He just wanted to see you like this. Comfortable. Glowing. Alive. And if that meant getting destroyed by your smile in the process... fine. He could survive a little heartache. Probably.

______

The next time you saw Jake, he was standing on a table. No, really. A whole table. In the middle of the quad. One foot on a crate of student newspaper stacks, the other on a folding chair, arms outstretched like he was Moses parting the Red Sea — if Moses wore a pink hoodie and had an iced Americano in hand. "DO NOT BELIEVE THE LIBEL," he yelled, voice hoarse, face flushed with indignation and too much caffeine. "I DID NOT, I REPEAT, DID NOT PROMISE FREE WIFI IN THE FOREST."

You stood beside Yunjin, clutching your coffee and blinking. She deadpanned, "What the hell did you do to your assistant?"

"I let him believe in democracy," you whispered. She sipped her latte. "That's on you."

---

Apparently, while you were busy unraveling on Sunghoon's bed, Jake's modest student council campaign had gone viral. Or rather — the rumors about it had. A parody Instagram account under the handle @jake4dictator had posted a mock flyer featuring Jake's face photoshopped onto an anime villain's body with the caption: "HE PROMISED AIR CONDITIONING IN THE LIBRARY. HE DELIVERED VIBES."

Comments ranged from:

 "king. i will give him my vote and my heart."

to

"is this man even enrolled??"

Yunjin scrolled through the account with increasing horror. Jake stood nearby, now fending off a group of girls asking if he could "legally abolish finals." You joined him at the base of the steps. "Jake—" He turned. "They think I have power, Y/N. I haven't even submitted my candidacy form yet." "Then maybe don't stand on furniture and scream." "But they LIKE it." A voice shouted from the crowd: "Jake for President of Everything!" He lit up. You turned to Yunjin. "He's gone." She nodded. "Fully radicalized."

---

By the afternoon, a formal email arrived from the Student Council Board. It wasn't a warning. It was an invitation. You stared at it. "They want him to run... for real." Yunjin laughed. "He can't even tie a tie." Sunghoon, leaning beside the vending machine, added, "That might be why they want him." You looked over. He was in one of his crisp button-downs again, sleeves rolled up just enough to expose the veins in his forearms. His hair was slightly messy, his bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. You tried to focus. Failed. He tilted his head. "You okay?" You blinked. "Yeah. It's just—" you motioned vaguely to Jake's fan club, now passing out pins — "this got out of hand." Sunghoon's mouth twitched. "You proud?" "Honestly?" You exhaled. "Kind of." He studied you. You looked away first.

--

You all met that evening in the Media Room — the unofficial war room — to figure out what came next. Jake paced. Yunjin edited a new flyer. You sat on the couch beside Sunghoon, laptop open, watching the chaos. "This is a PR nightmare," Jake declared. "We need an actual campaign strategy now. Speeches. Outreach. Voter data. A vibe."

"You are the vibe," Yunjin muttered.

"I need infrastructure!" Jake shouted. Sunghoon spoke quietly beside you, "He's spiraling." You leaned closer. "Should we tranquilize him?" "I've got gummy bears." "That'll work." He handed you the pack. Your fingers brushed. You pretended not to notice. He definitely noticed. You pretended not to notice that either. Jake turned to you. "Y/N. Please. Be my campaign manager. I need a brilliant mind and emotional regulation." You blinked. "What part of me suggests emotional regulation?" "You haven't punched me yet. That's more than I can say for Yunjin."

Yunjin raised her hand. "I'll do it again." Jake clasped your shoulders dramatically. "Help me. I'm too pretty to fail." You sighed. "Fine. But we do this smart. No more shouting in public—" "—no promises." "—and no more making up policies on the spot." "I thought the juice fountain idea was inspired." Sunghoon mumbled, "It was." You turned to him. "You're not helping." He smiled.

--

Later, when everyone else had left, you lingered in the hallway outside the Media Room, still half-laughing over Jake's campaign tagline ("J-A-K-E: Just A Kid Enlightening"). Sunghoon stayed too. You weren't sure if that was on purpose. But you weren't asking him to leave. He stood next to you, quiet. Not shy — just present. Steady. You both watched the fluorescent light flicker above the hallway door. "I've never had this many people around me before," you said suddenly. He looked over. You clarified, "Not like this. Not chaos, and noise, and stupid slogans. Just... people who care." He nodded. "It's good." "It's overwhelming." He glanced at you. "You look okay." You smiled faintly. "You think?" "You carry it well." You turned. Leaned against the wall. "Do you?" He paused. Then, softly: "I'm trying." You watched his expression shift — something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. You stepped closer. He didn't move away. "Can I ask you something?" He nodded.

You tilted your head. "Why'd you really offer to help Jake last week? You barely knew him." A beat of silence. Then, voice low: "Because you were standing next to him." Your heart jumped. He looked at you. Calm. Open. You opened your mouth. Closed it. Then smiled — warm, slow, maybe a little stupid. "Okay," you said. He smiled too. And that smile was different. It wasn't smug. Or sarcastic. Or flustered. It was soft. Like he'd already decided. Like he'd already picked you. Even if he wouldn't say it yet. Even if it would take a while. That was fine. You had time.

______________

The campus felt different in the days before the debate. Not just busier. Louder.

Banners unfurled from library balconies, leaflets littered the grass, chalk messages ran across the pavement like bright, urgent veins: VOTE THIS FRIDAY — MAKE YOUR VOICE COUNT — KARAOKE KING 2025 (that one was Jake's doing, apparently). It wasn't just a student election anymore. It was a spectacle. And you were in the middle of it.

--

The Media Room looked like a war bunker. Stacks of flyers in one corner, campaign merchandise in another — mostly buttons and stickers with Jake's face. Half of them were from actual supporters. The other half were ironic. Jake didn't care. At the table, Jake was hunched over his laptop, muttering, "If I mention free donuts in the opening statement, is that bribery or... just kindness?" "No." You didn't look up from your notes. "It's corruption with sprinkles."

Yunjin snorted from the couch, scrolling through the latest student newspaper article. "They're calling him the 'charismatic underdog.'" Jake brightened. "That's good press!" "They also called you 'a golden retriever with questionable fiscal policies.'" He deflated. "...still cute, though."

--

Sunghoon walked in without knocking, and the air shifted. Not dramatically. He didn't do dramatic. But the quiet attention he carried into a room was impossible to ignore.

He had his bag slung over one shoulder, wearing a plain navy sweater pushed to the elbows. The soft knit clung faintly to his forearms when he set his notebook down. And — god help you — his biceps caught your attention again, the fabric stretching just enough when he pulled a chair closer to the table. "Opposition's been busy," he said, voice low. "They're tightening their platform. Fewer jokes, more attacks."

Jake frowned. "On me?" Sunghoon's eyes flicked to you. "Not just you." You froze. "What?" He slid a single sheet of paper across the table.

On it: a screenshot from a private campus forum thread. Your name. A few lines of speculation. And then, lower, a blunt statement about why you "shouldn't be trusted with campaign funds." You stared at it. "That's not even true—" "I know," Sunghoon cut in, calm but firm. "But it's gaining traction." Jake slammed his palm on the table. "Who posts this garbage?" "People who want to win," Sunghoon said simply.

---

The conversation spiraled into strategy. Yunjin suggested preemptively addressing the rumors at the debate. Jake wanted to "make it a joke." You wanted to set the record straight without drawing more attention to it. Sunghoon listened quietly, jotting occasional notes, but his gaze kept returning to you — not in pity, not in suspicion, but something heavier. Like he was cataloguing your reactions. Filing them away for later. When the meeting wound down, Jake bounced off to a photo op ("They're filming me eating pizza in the quad!"), leaving you, Sunghoon, and Yunjin alone. Yunjin yawned, stretched, and stood. "I'll grab food. You two... do whatever intense staring contest you've got going." You glared at her. "We're talking strategy."

"Mmhm." She winked and left.

--

Silence settled between you and Sunghoon once she was gone. "You handled it well," he said finally. "The rumor?" He nodded. "Most people would've gotten defensive." "I am defensive." "Not outwardly." His mouth twitched faintly. "You're good at holding the line."

You crossed your arms. "You say that like you've been watching." "I have." That landed harder than it should have. "Because of Jake?" you asked. His gaze didn't waver. "...Not just Jake." Your pulse jumped. You broke eye contact first, pretending to gather papers. "The debate's going to be a mess." "Maybe," he said. "Or maybe it's when they realize you're the real weapon." You looked at him. Really looked.

And there it was again — that calm, steady confidence he seemed to have in you, even when you didn't have it in yourself. It unnerved you. And, annoyingly, it thrilled you too.

--

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of campaign prep. You reviewed Jake's likely questions, organized cue cards, and tried not to think about the fact that the entire student body — plus faculty and press — would be watching. Outside, the quad was already being transformed into the debate stage. Rows of folding chairs, string lights, and the faint hum of sound checks filled the air. By the time you left the Media Room, the sun was low, the campus bathed in gold. Sunghoon fell into step beside you without a word. For a while, you just walked. And though nothing was said, you couldn't shake the feeling that every step toward that debate stage was also a step toward something else — something unspoken, building between you both, slow and certain.MSomething that wouldn't stay unspoken for much longer.

_______

The quad looked like it had been swallowed by an election festival. By the time you arrived, the sun had dipped low enough to turn the tops of the brick buildings honey-gold, and the string lights above the debate stage glowed like a constellation someone had netted and hung overhead. Rows upon rows of folding chairs faced a low platform draped in school colors. Large screens flanked the stage, already projecting the faces of tonight's "headline candidates" — Jake among them, grinning like he'd been born for this.

Students milled everywhere. Some held homemade signs (J-A-K-E!, KARAOKE KING, MAKE MIDTERMS OPTIONAL). Others wore the opposition's slicker, more professional badges. A small group of student journalists huddled in the front row, cameras slung over their shoulders. It was louder than you'd expected. Louder than it had any right to be.

--

"You're pale," Yunjin murmured beside you. "I'm fine." "You're gripping your cue cards so hard they're bending." You eased your hold, exhaling. "I'm fine." She glanced at you with that knowing smirk. "You'll be more than fine. You'll make him look like a genius." Before you could respond, Jake bounded up, hair perfectly tousled, jacket looking freshly ironed, the human embodiment of I woke up like this. "Team," he announced, "we are about to make history."You deadpanned. "Let's focus on making it through thirty minutes without you promising free puppies  for everyone." He winked. "Noted."

--

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sunghoon approaching the stage area. He'd swapped his sweater for a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, the neat lines of the fabric framing his shoulders. He carried a slim folder under one arm, moving with quiet purpose, like he'd walked into a high court rather than a campus event. Your gaze caught, held, for a beat too long. He didn't smile. But the flicker in his eyes — subtle, almost imperceptible — said he'd noticed.

--

The debate moderator, a senior from the journalism program, ran through last-minute rules: candidates at the front, campaign managers in the wings, no interruptions from the crowd. You stationed yourself off to the side, where you could feed Jake lines if necessary. Sunghoon stood just behind the opposition's candidate — a tall, sharp-tongued econ major named Minji — flipping through his notes without looking rushed.

You caught him watching you once. Twice. The third time, he didn't look away immediately. The opening statements were harmless enough — Jake leaned into humor ("I may not have an economics degree, but I know the library vending machines have been stealing our money for years"), while Minji countered with polished promises and fiscal jargon.

It was the third question that shifted the tone. A student journalist stood, adjusting their glasses. "This question is for Candidate Sim," they said — Jake — "but perhaps your campaign manager would like to answer as well."

You froze. Jake tilted his head. "Go on." "Some students have expressed concern," the journalist continued, "about your choice of campaign manager, given her... history with last semester's budget dispute in the Arts Council." There it was. The rumor Sunghoon had warned you about — served under bright lights, with half the campus watching.

--

You didn't look at Sunghoon. But you could feel him, a quiet anchor somewhere behind your right shoulder. Jake glanced at you. The audience murmured. You stepped forward. "Last semester," you began, voice even, "the Arts Council faced a funding shortage. We had two choices — cut programs, or reallocate funds from unused grants. I recommended reallocation. The board voted against it. That's their prerogative. But it was neither illegal nor unethical. It was a difference in vision."

The words came easily, each one clipped and deliberate. You weren't pleading. You weren't defensive. "Student leadership," you continued, "is about choices. Sometimes hard ones. I stand by mine, and I'd do it again if it meant protecting student opportunities." You held the journalist's gaze for a beat before stepping back.

--

The murmurs shifted. Not approval exactly — but respect. Jake grinned, turned to the mic, and said, "That's why I hired her." The crowd laughed. The moderator moved on. During the next few questions, you felt the tight coil in your stomach loosen — just enough to notice the way Sunghoon had shifted. He was no longer scanning his notes. He was watching you, elbows resting casually on the table in front of him. It wasn't a smirk. It wasn't even a smile.

It was sharper than both — the look of someone quietly recalculating their understanding of you. And god, it made your pulse misbehave. The debate wound toward closing statements. Jake stayed on message, Minji landed a few pointed digs, but nothing as sharp as that budget question. When it ended, the crowd erupted — half cheering, half already rushing to post clips online. You gathered your notes, stepping down from the stage. The cool night air met your skin, carrying the faint scent of cut grass and something warmer — cologne. Sunghoon was suddenly there, falling into step beside you.

"You handled that well," he said. "Thanks." He glanced sidelong at you. "Didn't flinch once." "Couldn't give them the satisfaction."

His mouth curved — just barely. "Good."

--

Yunjin appeared, slapping you lightly on the back. "You just made yourself a hundred new enemies and twice as many admirers." Jake trotted over, flushed from the adrenaline. "We killed it, right?" "Moderately murdered," Yunjin said.

"Politically stabbed," you added.

Sunghoon's voice was quieter, for you alone: "Strategically lethal."

And the way he said it — slow, deliberate — lodged under your skin, warm and dangerous.

_____

The quad had emptied slowly after the debate, voices trailing off into the hum of late campus life. The folding chairs were stacked now, the stage stripped of its banners, and the string lights above swayed gently in the night breeze. You'd stayed longer than planned, helping Jake hand off the last of his campaign props to a volunteer, partly because you needed to make sure the equipment got back to the media department... and partly because you weren't ready to go back to your apartment yet. The adrenaline was still too sharp, the taste of that budget question still lingering at the back of your throat.

When you finally stepped away from the logistics, the quad felt almost private.

Not silent — you could hear music from somewhere down the path, the faint rush of the fountain by the library — but stripped of its earlier chaos.

Sunghoon was leaning against the low brick wall near the steps, hands in his pockets, shirt sleeves still rolled, collar open just enough to hint at the line of his throat. He didn't straighten when you approached, just watched you cross the space toward him.

--

"You waited?" you asked. His answer was simple. "Yeah." "For...?" "You," he said, as if it were obvious. Then, after a pause: "We should talk." You stopped a few feet from him. "About?" He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pulled one hand from his pocket, holding a folded sheet of paper between his fingers — the same size as the notes he used during the debate. But when you took it, you realized it wasn't debate prep. It was a printed screenshot from that same private forum thread. New posts.

Your name mentioned again. More pointed speculation this time — some of it veiled, some of it not. The kind of things that could fester if left unchecked. You felt your jaw tighten. "I told you, it's not—" "I know it's not," he interrupted, voice low but steady. "I also know the opposition will use whatever they can. They're already digging, and I..." He stopped there, watching your face carefully. "...I just don't want you blindsided." The way he said it wasn't just political strategy. It was... personal. Too personal. You looked down at the paper again, forcing your voice level. "Thanks for the warning. I can handle it." "I know you can."

It was the same words he'd said after the debate — but softer now. Weighted. He pushed away from the wall, closing the space between you until you could see the faint sheen of exertion still clinging to his skin, the curve of his lashes in the light from the lamppost. For a moment, he just studied you — not in the calculating way he had during campaign meetings, but like he was trying to memorize the exact shape of you here, in this moment.

Then he said, "You're used to doing everything yourself." You blinked. "What?" "You carry everything like it's yours alone to fix. Even things that aren't your fault." His gaze flicked down, then back up. "I know that because I've done it too." The words sank in slowly, heavy as stones. "...What are you talking about?"

--

He hesitated — not the measured kind of pause you'd come to expect from him, but something rougher, as if he was deciding whether to open a locked door.

"My father," he said finally. "When things went wrong, he expected me to fix them. Quietly. No matter whose fault it was." Your throat went tight. He didn't sound bitter exactly — more like someone describing an injury that had healed badly, the ache still deep in the bone. "I got good at keeping things contained," he went on. "Good at staying quiet. At being... dependable. But not because anyone asked if I wanted to be." He stopped there, breathing out slowly, and you realized your hands had curled around the paper he'd given you. "Sunghoon..." you began, but your voice trailed. The air between you shifted. It wasn't sudden — more like a quiet, invisible thread tightening.

You felt it in the stillness of him, in the way his shoulders squared not with arrogance but with decision. His eyes, dark and intent, didn't waver from yours. He stepped closer — slow, deliberate — until the scent of him reached you. Clean soap. A faint trace of cologne. And something warmer beneath, the heat of skin that had been standing too close for too long. One hand lifted, fingers brushing lightly along your temple before sliding into your hair. He tucked a strand behind your ear with careful precision, the back of his knuckles grazing the curve of your cheek on the way down. You caught the tiniest shift in his breathing then — not uneven, but deeper, as though he'd just realized how close he was. His gaze flicked between your eyes and your mouth, not fast, not guilty... just slowly, like he was committing both to memory. His other hand came up, knuckles brushing along the hinge of your jaw before his thumb found your bottom lip. He dragged it once, barely pressing, the pad catching on the soft curve.

--

You inhaled, pulse thrumming under your skin. His breath hitched — quiet but sharp enough for you to hear it in the stillness — and he bit down gently on his own lower lip, the movement deliberate. Not nervous. Considering. Then the pressure of his thumb deepened, coaxing your lips apart. He didn't rush it. He held your gaze the entire time, as if the act of watching you react was as intoxicating to him as the touch itself. And then — without a word — he slid the pad of his thumb just inside your mouth.

--

It wasn't crude. It wasn't rushed. But it was filthy in the way it bypassed every polite boundary you'd had with him until now. Your lips closed around him instinctively, the faint taste of his skin and the faint salt of the air between you hitting your tongue. You didn't suck — you didn't need to — but you let your tongue trace against the side of his thumb, a slow, testing motion. His reaction was immediate. A sharp inhale through his nose. The slightest tightening of his jaw. His eyes darkened, but they didn't look away.

The muscles in his forearm flexed subtly where he held your face, his biceps tightening under the rolled sleeve as if restraining himself from more. His thumb lingered inside your mouth for one long, heavy beat, your tongue brushing again before he eased it back — slow enough to leave a faint trail of dampness behind.

--

He didn't wipe it away. Instead, his thumb brushed lazily along your lip one last time, smearing that faint trace before dropping his hand. The air between you felt thicker now — dense with something you couldn't name but could feel in every inch of your skin. "You..." he started, then stopped, exhaling through his nose. "You make it very hard to be careful." It wasn't an admission of love. It wasn't even an admission of desire in so many words. But the way he looked at you when he said it — like there was nothing else in the world but the person standing in front of him — made it clear he was already too far gone.

________

He didn't move his hand right away. The faint dampness of his thumb on your lips cooled in the night air, but the heat in his gaze didn't fade. If anything, it sharpened — his pupils blown just wide enough that you could see your own reflection in them. And then he tilted his head.

Just a fraction. Just enough that you felt it — the shift in his focus from your eyes to your mouth, the almost imperceptible tightening in his jaw, the faint lift of his chest as he drew in a slow breath. You didn't step back. He closed the remaining space like gravity was pulling him — slow, unhurried, but inevitable. His fingers slid back into your hair, the tips pressing lightly against the base of your skull, guiding without forcing. His other hand, the one that had just been at your mouth, ghosted down the side of your neck, fingertips brushing over your pulse before resting lightly at the top of your shoulder. His breath was warm now, ghosting over your mouth. You could feel it — every exhale, every subtle shift forward — as his gaze flicked to your lips and back again, his own parting just enough that you caught the faintest glimpse of teeth. You were already leaning the rest of the way in before you realized you'd moved.

--

The space between you was gone. A single inch, maybe less. You could smell the faint sweetness of whatever tea he'd had after the debate, mingling with the sharper edge of his cologne. His lips barely brushed yours — not even a kiss, just the barest graze, enough to set off a chain reaction under your skin — when a sound cut clean through the tension. A phone. Shrill, insistent, and way too close.

--

Sunghoon's eyes closed for one long second, his forehead dipping forward until it rested briefly against yours in silent frustration. You could feel the sigh in his chest before he straightened, pulling back just enough to look at you properly. It was his phone.

Still buzzing in his pocket. He didn't answer it immediately. Just stood there for another moment, watching you, letting the space he'd just closed stretch open again until the cool air slipped between you. Finally, he drew in a breath, broke eye contact, and reached for his phone. "I have to take this," he said quietly, voice rougher than it had been all night. You nodded, because you couldn't trust yourself to speak.

_____

By the time Sunghoon stepped a pace back, the sound of his phone still buzzing between you, the quad felt different again — not empty, but changed.

You knew the exact moment when his thumb had brushed the inside of your mouth would replay in your head later, uninvited. You also knew you weren't the only one still carrying it. He didn't look away until the last possible second. Then he glanced down at the screen, jaw tightening, and turned slightly so you couldn't see the caller ID.

"Hello," he said, voice clipped in a way it hadn't been a minute ago. He listened, his free hand sliding into his pocket again, shoulders angling just enough to make it clear this wasn't a conversation you were meant to overhear. You caught fragments anyway. "...No, I told you... tomorrow. I'm not—"

Then, quieter: "...We'll talk about it later."

When he hung up, he stayed still for a moment before tucking the phone away and meeting your gaze again. "Sorry. Urgent." You could have asked who it was. You didn't. Whatever it was, it wasn't Jake's campaign business, and the way his tone had shifted made you think it wasn't the kind of thing he'd tell you out in the open.

--

"You still have Jake's cue cards?" he asked suddenly. You blinked. "Yeah. Why?" "Opposition's already trying to spin his closing remarks. They're cutting clips out of context." "That didn't take long," you muttered. "Nothing does in this place." He adjusted his bag, the motion pulling his sweater tighter across his shoulders for a moment. "Send them to me when you can. I'll forward them to... someone." The way he said it made you suspect "someone" wasn't officially on his team.

--

The sound of hurried footsteps broke your reply. Jake jogged up from the far end of the quad, slightly out of breath but grinning like the debate had been a personal victory parade. "Did you see?" he panted. "We trended. On two platforms."

"Trended for what?" you asked warily.

"Does it matter?" He slung an arm loosely over your shoulders before you could stop him. "I was charming, you were smart, Sunghoon looked intimidating — perfect campaign optics." Sunghoon arched a brow. "You do realize trending for the wrong thing can cost you the election?" Jake waved a hand. "Details." You shot Sunghoon an apologetic glance over Jake's arm, but he was already looking at you, not Jake, as if there was an entire second conversation happening there without words.

--

Yunjin arrived a minute later, holding two paper cups of coffee and somehow still managing to look like she'd just stepped out of a photoshoot. She handed one to you, then surveyed the three of you with an expression that said she was catching up on every unsaid thing in the air. "Okay," she said, "which one of you is going to explain the awkward tension, and which one is going to deny it?"

Jake frowned. "What tension?" "Exactly," Yunjin said flatly. She turned back to you. "The journalism department's dropping their debate coverage in the morning. Expect three flattering photos of Jake, one of you mid-blink, and none of Sunghoon because he apparently doesn't photograph without looking like an assassin." "That's a skill," Jake said cheerfully. Sunghoon didn't reply — but the corner of his mouth twitched like he might have, if certain people weren't watching.

--

The four of you ended up walking together toward the library steps, the night air crisp and smelling faintly of rain. Campaign talk dominated most of it — where Jake should be tomorrow, what messaging to push, which volunteer groups were falling behind — but beneath all of that, you could feel the quiet pulse of the earlier moment with Sunghoon, still unresolved. Every so often, you caught him glancing your way. Not long enough for anyone else to notice. Just enough for you to feel it.

_________

The morning after the debate, campus felt sharper. Not hostile — at least, not entirely — but tuned in a way it hadn't been before. The quad's bulletin boards were already plastered with debate recap posters, some official, some clearly printed in dorm basements. Half were pro-Jake, half were neutral, and a small but loud fraction were openly mocking one candidate or another. The journalism department's online recap had dropped at sunrise. Yunjin had been right: Jake got three flattering shots, you got one caught mid-blink, and Sunghoon's only photo was a blurry side angle that somehow still looked intimidating. By the time you made it to campaign HQ — a repurposed study room at the back of the student union — Jake was already pacing with his phone in hand, gesturing animatedly to someone on the other end.

"...No, I'm not changing my platform," he was saying. "If they want to call me unrealistic, fine — I'd rather be unrealistic than spineless—" He glanced up at you as you walked in, gave a quick salute with the hand not holding his phone, and went back to arguing.

--

Yunjin was leaning against the corner table, scrolling on her tablet, her coffee cup already empty. "Good, you're here," she said without looking up. "We have a problem." "That's one way to say good morning," you muttered, setting your bag down. "Jake's opponent leaked something," she said. "Not scandal-level, but messy. They've got a clip from an old student council meeting — Jake laughing at a budget proposal. They're framing it as him mocking low-income students." "That's not what happened," you said instantly.

"Of course it's not. But perception matters more than reality. And the clip is already viral." Jake hung up then, tossing his phone onto the table. "I told you," he said to Yunjin, "I can spin it." "You can't spin everything," she shot back. "Sometimes you have to control the story before it controls you."

--

The door opened then — no knock, no warning — and Sunghoon stepped inside.

He wasn't dressed for class yet, just in a dark sweatshirt and black jeans, but the way he carried himself still drew every pair of eyes in the room. "I've seen the clip," he said without preamble. "It's bad." "Thanks for the optimism," Jake muttered. "I didn't say it was fatal," Sunghoon continued, ignoring him. "But you'll need a counter-narrative before lunch." Yunjin arched a brow. "And you're here to... help us out of the kindness of your heart?" Sunghoon's gaze flicked to you briefly. "Something like that." You didn't miss the way Yunjin's eyes narrowed slightly, like she'd just confirmed a suspicion.

--

The next hour was a blur of strategy talk. Jake wanted to double down; Yunjin wanted to pivot; Sunghoon quietly dismantled both arguments until the three of them were forced into a compromise — a short video statement filmed that afternoon, explaining the context without sounding defensive.

You noticed, though, that every time the conversation splintered into side arguments, Sunghoon's attention wandered back to you. Not constantly. Just enough that you felt it. By the time the plan was set and Jake had stormed out to "cool off" with a game of table tennis in the rec hall, the study room was quieter. Yunjin left soon after, muttering something about calling her media contact. That left you and Sunghoon.

--

He was packing up his notes when he said, without looking at you, "About last night." Your stomach tightened — not with dread, but with the kind of sharp, breathless awareness you'd felt when his thumb had been inside your mouth. "What about it?" you asked, keeping your tone as neutral as you could manage. He finally looked at you then, his eyes holding yours like he was bracing for you to flinch. You didn't. "I wasn't... playing a game," he said slowly. "I know it might have looked like I was pushing buttons, but I wasn't trying to get a reaction for the sake of it. I just—" He broke off, exhaling through his nose. "It was you. It's always been you."

Something in your chest clenched. "You don't have to explain," you said quietly. "Yeah, I do." His voice was steady now. "Because if we keep circling around it, we're going to keep getting in our own way. And... I don't want to."

--

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then you said, "We'll talk about it. Just... not right now. Too much else going on." His mouth curved — not quite a smile, but softer than anything he'd given you before. "Fair enough." But the way he looked at you after that — warm, unguarded, like the rest of the room had ceased to exist — told you everything you needed to know. You were both in it now. Completely. And eventually, you'd have to stop pretending otherwise.

_______

By eight a.m., campus had already decided what happened at last night's debate — whether they were there or not. The student paper's homepage ran a headline that was both dramatic and weirdly affectionate ("The Night Democracy Got a Little Hot"), the anonymous forum had splintered into thirty-seven threads with titles like WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE LIBRARY WIFI and WHY DOES THAT QUIET GUY LOOK LIKE HE EATS PEOPLE (COMPLIMENT), and someone had looped a clip of Jake blinking for exactly nine seconds with the caption: our future in one GIF. The clip was playing on a phone screen when you walked into campaign HQ, and three freshmen volunteers were rating the blink like it was a floor routine. "Strong opening," one said, squinting. "But he loses commitment in the middle third."

Yunjin didn't look up when you came in; she was already dressed for battle in sunglasses and lip gloss, tweaking a caption on a draft post while her second coffee cooled untouched by her elbow. "Good, you're here," she said, thumbs moving fast. "We're hemorrhaging the narrative."

You dropped your bag and braced both hands on the table. "Tell me it's not that bad." "It's not that bad," she said, perfectly deadpan. "It's worse." She spun the tablet around and started flipping through windows. "Opposition posted three edited videos before sunrise. Watch—" A split: Jake mid-laugh, then a harsh cut to an out-of-context budget line, then a slow zoom on your face from the Q&A with a caption that read THE REAL BRAIN (DANGEROUS) like you were a supervillain. "And they added anonymous 'sources' claiming Jake thinks 'fun is a policy.'"

"That was a joke," you said. "He made that joke in front of the pizza truck." "I know." She paused, then added in a lighter tone, "To be fair, it was a good joke." "It was a good truck." "Focus," she said, but she was narrowly smiling now, which counted as a small miracle. You rolled your shoulders like a boxer about to touch gloves. "Okay. Strategy. We post a clean clip of the budget answer, clarify context, link the full student council minutes—" "And then they call it a walk-back," Yunjin said. "No. We need the 'ha-ha but also we can read' approach. One part snark, one part receipts, and exactly zero parts panic." "Memes and PDFs?" "Memes wielding PDFs like knives." "Sold," you said, already opening your laptop. The door swung in and Sunghoon slipped through without knocking, sleeves pushed up, hair still a little sleep-ruffled like he'd fought with his pillow and lost, which was unfair because his biceps were winning everything else. He took in the room — the volunteers, the coffee, the slumped inflatable "VOTE" letters in the corner — and set a slim folder by your elbow like he was dropping evidence on a courtroom table. "Opposition's anonymous sources aren't anonymous," he said, voice low but carrying. "It's the same two accounts cycling quotes. One's a burner with three followers; the other's a freshman we can flip with a free sandwich and a kind word." Yunjin finally looked at him over the rim of her sunglasses. "You're suggesting bribery and charm in the same sentence. I'm listening." "It's not bribery if we were going to buy lunch anyway," he said mildly. He glanced at you then, quick and brief, like a reflex he didn't bother to hide anymore. You pretended you didn't notice and also failed completely. "Morning," you said.

"Hi," he said, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

There was that small, ridiculous shift again — a little drop in your stomach, a soft lift in your ribs. If last night had reset some unnamed knob between you two, this morning had simply... left it there. The quad might've been on fire, but the way he said hi still felt like a secret. You pushed the folder open. "What's this?" "Clip map, timestamps, and who posted what first," he said, sliding a pen out of his pocket and circling two lines. "These are the cuts we rebut with context. These are the cuts we let die. If you chase all of it, you look guilty. If you pick the right ones, you look competent." "You're good at this," you said. He shrugged. "I like puzzles." "Is that what this is?" you asked, deadpan. "A puzzle?" His eyes flicked to yours, warm and annoyingly fond. "No," he said, softer. "This is your job. I just don't like watching you get dragged by people who can't read a PDF." Yunjin, not even pretending to be subtle, turned her chair three inches so she could watch the two of you like it was daytime television. "Wow. Did the temperature rise in here? Someone open a window. Or a fire hydrant." "Help or hush," you said, but you were smiling, and she knew it.

"Fine," she said, tapping the screen. "Counterstrike proposal: we post the full budget minutes with friendly bolded sections and a dumb caption so people actually click — something like 'it's a pdf, not a prophecy.' Alongside: a thirty-second highlight reel of Jake being charming and specific. Then you—" she pointed at you "—reply to two threads from the official account with those links. Not defensive. Surgical."

"And me?" Sunghoon asked. "You," she said, "will be our tall, handsome, terrifying smokescreen. DM the freshman. DM the burner. Offer lunch. Offer mercy. Offer a nap. I don't care. Flip them or stall them." Sunghoon nodded once, already pulling out his phone. You watched the way his thumb moved across the screen — quick, precise — and told your brain to please focus on something other than thumbs for one singular day. Your brain refused. "Where's Jake?" Sunghoon asked. "On a campus tour he accidentally volunteered to lead," Yunjin said. "He's misinforming six parents and giving one of them a recipe for the dining hall brownies." You and Sunghoon said, in tandem, "We don't have brownies," then looked at each other and laughed because apparently you were now sharing a single brain cell.

"Okay," you said, corralling the room's chaos. "Timeline: meme-with-PDF goes up in forty minutes. Then the highlight reel. Then we seed the full minutes in the comments of the two biggest threads. No arguing. No paragraphs. We are breezy geniuses who happen to own printers." "Breezy geniuses," Yunjin repeated, typing. "I'm buying that shirt." You got to work. It felt like building a sandbag wall during a very silly flood: one eye on the rising water, one eye on the group chat, and one eye (third eye?) on the man beside you who kept leaning in to point at your screen and somehow always chose chaos-level proximity. Twice his shoulder brushed yours; once his knee bumped your chair; and every time, it shot a small, traitorous bolt of electricity along your spine. The romcom gods said don't be weird about it. You were weird about it internally and spectacularly normal on the outside, which felt like growth.

"Caption?" Yunjin asked, holding up her tablet. You skimmed. 'clarifying because reading is hot: here's the boring pdf with the fun parts highlighted. bring a snack.' "Perfect," you said. "Post it." It went live. Within a minute you watched a reply: reading IS hot, who runs this account and are they single. Yunjin replied from the official handle: we're married to transparency. The like count jumped absurdly fast. You pushed the highlight reel next: thirty seconds of Jake saying actually, here's how reallocation works and citing two sources, cut with exactly two jokes and a blink sequence that somehow made him look competent and adoptable. The comments underneath were the only acceptable mix for internet survival: half light teasing, half ohhh I get it now. You exhaled. The room's collective shoulders unclenched. "Small fire contained," Yunjin announced. "On to medium fires." "On it," Sunghoon said, tucking his phone away. "Freshman flipped. Burner stalled." "How'd you flip him?" you asked. "Kindness," he said. "And?" "A sandwich." You saluted him with your water bottle. "Hero of the people." He tipped his head like obviously, and you hated how charmed you were by the smallest things: the way his eyes warmed when you teased him, the way he gave attention like it was currency, the way his canines flashed when he smiled with his whole mouth — vampire teeth, soft boy, devastating combination.

A volunteer popped her head in. "Um, there's a film club outside asking if Jake will do a cameo in their noir short about a corrupt printer. Also... someone sent cupcakes." "From who?" Yunjin asked. The volunteer checked the card. "It just says Democracy ♥." You and Sunghoon said, again in stereo, "We don't accept edible bribes," which sent you both into another small, traitorous laugh. The volunteer set the box on the far table anyway and whispered, "I licked one so it's mine now," then vanished like a goblin. You glanced at the box, then at Sunghoon, and the corner of his mouth curved, like you'd just shared the same joke without speaking. That was happening more, and each time felt like someone tightening the bow on a gift you were not ready to unwrap in public.

"Walk with me?" you asked, because the room was getting loud and the campus was getting hot and your brain was getting reckless. He didn't even pretend to think about it. "Yeah." You told Yunjin you'd loop back in twenty, she waved you off with a "Don't fall in love on my time," and you and Sunghoon stepped out into hallways that smelled like printer ink and the first too-warm day of spring. The corridor opened onto a quiet balcony above the quad — early birds sprawled on the grass, someone practicing a trumpet badly, two squirrels engaged in litigation over a bagel. You leaned on the railing. He took the spot just beside you, close enough that your shoulders almost touched. "You're good under pressure," he said after a beat, like a fact he was filing. "You make it easier," you said back, before your internal editor could tackle you. You pretended you'd meant the workflow and not breathing near you is my new coping mechanism. He hummed, a low sound that felt like I heard you anyway. "Thanks for backing Yunjin," you added. "She pretends she doesn't care if anyone agrees with her, but it helps." "She is usually right," he said. "Also terrifying." "True on both counts." "Also kind," he said, and when you tilted your head, he shrugged one shoulder. "She pretended not to notice when I forgot my wallet at the café last week."

"Did you?" "For three hours," he said. "She paid. Called me 'Your Highness.'" You laughed, picturing it — Sunghoon, perfectly put-together, quietly mortified; Yunjin, delighted. When you looked at him again, he wasn't watching the quad anymore. He was watching you. Not trying to hide it, not flustered — just openly, thoughtfully watching, like the sight of you enjoying something was more interesting than anything else that could be happening on campus. "Don't do that," you said lightly, because your pulse had popped to the surface.

"Do what?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Look at me like you just decided where you're transferring your major concentration."

He kept a straight face for almost three seconds, then let it break into a real smile. His teeth flashed — sharp, unfair — and something inside your chest did a small, ridiculous flip. You looked away first, because you were brave in many arenas, and not brave in this one at ten in the morning on a balcony with a boy whose sleeves made his forearms look like an architectural feature. Your phone buzzed. Jake: plz come outside immediately i am about to adopt an improv troupe. You showed the screen. Sunghoon sighed, like a man preparing to herd golden retrievers. Down on the quad, Jake was holding court with a group of theatre majors dressed in trench coats and moral ambiguity. "It's a piece about truth," one was saying solemnly. "And also trains."

"Fascinating," Jake said, equally solemn. "I can be Station Master. Or Train. Or Truth."

"Or Campaign Manager," you inserted, gently pulling him away by the sleeve. The troupe thanked him for his service to art and vanished into a cloud of jazz hands.

Jake pivoted to face you and Sunghoon, eyes bright. "I had an idea."

"Return it," Sunghoon said.

"Rude," Jake said fondly, then clapped his hands once. "Rapid-response booth. We set up a table right now — 'Ask Us Anything, Get an Actual Answer.' The only rule is we don't lie and we don't dodge. We'll do three hours. Optics: transparency, accessibility, freckles."

"You don't have freckles," you said. "Everyone does if the lighting is right." "It's... not terrible," you admitted, then glanced at Sunghoon. "It's very you," he said to Jake. "If we do it, station volunteers who can actually explain things. Not just vibes." "That's hurtful," Jake said. "But fair." "Also," Sunghoon added, taking a small step closer to you like he couldn't help it anymore, "you do the first hour. She does the second." He tipped his head toward you. "They trust her brain. They trust your face." "I'll allow it," Jake said, already texting. "Yunjin will bring signage. Or a sword. Or both." She brought both. Of course she did. The poster read ASK US ANYTHING (WE BROUGHT RECEIPTS) and the foam sword read CIVIL DISCOURSE in glitter. It should not have worked; somehow it did. For ninety minutes your table fielded everything from "where does my money actually go?" to "could the dining hall use cilantro more responsibly?" to "are we replacing finals with karaoke," and because this was still college, someone asked, "would you guys ever date each other," gesturing vaguely between the three of you like it was a love triangle audition. Jake said, without missing a beat, "I'm married to transparency," and Sunghoon said, very calmly, "She's out of my league," while looking at you like an answer had already been decided in a completely different room. You smiled down at a budget spreadsheet until your cheeks cooled. Romcom tension rule: never let the extras see you swoon.

By the time the second hour ended, the mood had shifted from gleeful chaos to something surprisingly... supportive. A student you didn't know dropped off a hand-drawn card that said thanks for not talking to us like we're dumb, and a professor you vaguely recognized told Jake he was "refreshing," which Jake would clearly live on for a week. The thread titles on the forum started changing tone: wait i learned something; the pdf was spicy; the quiet one is... funny?? That last one had a blurry shot of Sunghoon explaining reallocation with a marker in hand and an animation of sparkles someone had added over his head. You locked your phone so you wouldn't stare at it like a teenager.

You helped pack up the table; Yunjin handed back the foam sword with a solemn "for your enemies," then glided off to a meeting. Jake was already on to the next thing — signing a protest banner, filming a thank-you video for someone's club — and the volunteers drifted away, leaving the quad sunlit and soft and a little sleepy. Somehow, you and Sunghoon ended up alone again, standing just off the path where the shade cut the heat. For a minute neither of you spoke. The campus hummed at a low, pleasant volume: bees in the azaleas, distant laughter, a skateboard that absolutely should not have been on university property.

"You handled that well," he said at last, with the same calm certainty as last night. "You say that a lot," you replied. "It's because it keeps being true." You let yourself look at him — really look, in the forgiving noon light. The navy sweatshirt, the ink on his fingers from the marker, the way he'd stood half a step behind you at the table like he'd decided bodyguard was a volunteer role he could excel at. He caught you looking and didn't look away.

"About last night," you said, because it had been sitting on your tongue all morning, sweet and electric and impossible to swallow. "I'm not... confused." His expression didn't change, but you felt it anyway — a subtle drop in his guard, like a door unlatched. "Me neither," he said, voice low. "We have to work," you said, a little helpless, gesturing vaguely at the entire mess of election season. "There's a lot we have to do first. But—" "But," he echoed, and there was a smile in the word. You breathed out, a laugh caught in it. "I just wanted to say it out loud. So when we do talk — really talk — it won't feel like a surprise." "It won't," he said, stepping the smallest half-step closer, close enough that your shoulders brushed and stayed. "It doesn't." You stood there like that, not kissing, not rushing, not ruining the moment with jokes — just letting the quiet admit something you'd both known for days. It wasn't dramatic. It didn't need to be. It was simple and warm and true: a promise disguised as a pause.

"Okay," you said softly. "Okay," he repeated, and his canines flashed when he smiled, and you were absolutely done for. Your phones buzzed at the same time — Jake, obviously. emergency meeting he'd typed, followed by do you think a debate afterparty is tacky or patriotic and a photo of him holding the foam sword like Excalibur. You groaned. "He's going to make merch with that."

"He already did," Sunghoon said, showing you a link. CIVIL DISCOURSE tees. You stared. He added, deadpan, "I got you a medium." You bumped his shoulder with your own. "Spoiler alert: I'm wearing it ironically.” His voice dropped, amused. "You'll look good in anything." "You can't say things like that at lunchtime," you said, but you were smiling, because it was hopeless and happy and very, very you.

He pretended to consider. "Noted. I'll wait until three." "Terrible," you said, laughing. "Accurate," he said, a little softer, like he was tasting the word we without saying it. Back inside, the flurry resumed — Yunjin corralling schedules, volunteers mapping posts, Jake bright-eyed and chaotic, the campaign a tide you'd learned to surf. Through it all, Sunghoon stayed exactly where he'd been all morning: half a step beside you, offering strategy with the same hand that passed you a water bottle, rolling up his sleeves like the day had room for one more version of him you hadn't seen yet. Every time your arms brushed, neither of you moved away. Every time your eyes met, neither of you pretended you weren't looking. It wasn't awkward. It wasn't a secret. It was simply there — the thing you were both choosing to take seriously enough to do slowly. On your way out, as the meeting broke and the room emptied, he paused with you by the door, one hand on the frame, the other tucked in his pocket. "We'll talk," he said, as if you'd asked again, as if he'd heard the echo. "Yeah," you said. "We will." You started down the hall, then looked back. He was still there, handsomeness dialed to unfair, smiling like a promise he didn't have to say twice. You didn't need it twice. Once was already enough.

__________

It's too hot in here. Not sweltering, not uncomfortable — just... too warm for him to be focusing on cue cards while you sit across the desk, leaning forward like that. Sunghoon tells himself he's counting the number of rebuttal stacks you've sorted. He is. Mostly. But every few seconds, his gaze catches on the neckline of your blouse, on the faint slope of skin he absolutely should not be noticing, and it feels like the air shrinks between you. You're talking about framing points for Jake's next interview. He's hearing you — he is — but he's also hearing the faint rustle of fabric every time you shift, the click of your pen, the small sound you make when you concentrate and bite the inside of your cheek.

"Are you even listening?" you ask suddenly, looking up from your notes. He blinks, straightens. "Yes." You raise a brow. "Then what did I just say?" There's no way he can repeat it word-for-word without proving he's been distracted. He goes for the safest answer: "Something about restructuring the third response so he doesn't sound defensive." Your eyes narrow, but not in irritation. More like you know. "Right."

--

He drops his gaze back to the papers, trying to look busy, but then you lean forward again to grab a highlighter, and the movement pulls his attention right back. You don't notice, or maybe you do — the line between oblivious and deliberate with you is impossible to tell. "Your handwriting's terrible," he mutters, scanning one of your index cards. "It's called personality," you say without missing a beat. "Something you clearly lack." He looks up at that, just in time to catch the corner of your mouth twitch. "You've been spending too much time with Jake." "You'd rather I spend more time with you?" you tease, casual but edged in something warmer. The question lands heavier than it should. He answers by shuffling a fresh stack of cue cards and sliding them toward you, his fingers brushing yours — not by accident.

--

The door opens without warning. Yunjin steps in, eyes flicking between the two of you before she even closes it. "Well," she says, "this is cozy." You glance at her, then back at your notes like nothing's unusual. Sunghoon just raises an eyebrow. "Don't let me interrupt your..." she gestures vaguely between you, "...prep session." You give her a look. "We're working." "Sure." She grins, lingering a beat longer than necessary before walking out. The door clicks shut.

--

Jake bursts in less than a minute later, full of energy. "Okay, hear me out — what if I show up to the interview with a guitar?" "No," you and Sunghoon say in unison. Jake pauses, eyes bouncing between you like he's just witnessed something rare. "Weird. You two agreeing on something. Noted." He leaves with a mock salute, muttering something about "anti-music bias" under his breath.

--

When it's quiet again, you reach across the desk for a sheet he's holding, leaning close enough that he can smell the faint trace of your perfume. Your knee brushes his under the table — light, fleeting, but you don't move it away. Neither does he. The rest of the prep is done in low voices, shoulders occasionally bumping, fingers brushing when you pass each other pens. At one point, you're both bent over the same page, your hair falling forward just enough for him to imagine leaning in that fraction closer.

He doesn't. Not yet. But when you hand him the last of the sorted cards, he lets his thumb linger against your palm a beat too long, his voice dipping without thinking as he says, "Good work." You look at him for a second longer than necessary before going back to your notes.

__________

The press-prep room always smelled like dust and printer ink, a little too warm even with the door propped open by a stack of outdated style guides. You and Sunghoon had been shoulder-to-shoulder for an hour, smoothing the jagged edges of Jake's talking points into something that sounded like policy and not freestyle poetry. Every so often, your knees touched under the desk. Neither of you moved away. At some point, Sunghoon's voice started living in a lower register — not for effect, just because it did that when he was concentrating and you were close. A volunteer skidded into the doorway, breathless. "They found the leak," she blurted, eyes pinging between you and Sunghoon like she'd walked in on a secret. "It's in the Student Union. People are gathering. Jake's already there." You stood so fast your chair squeaked. "Define 'found.'" "Like... found found." She winced. "And he—uh—he's talking to them."

You and Sunghoon were in the hallway before the sentence landed. He fell into step beside you automatically, one hand steadying the door for you as you pushed into the main corridor. Your pace matched without discussion. That kept happening now — your bodies made small decisions before your mouths caught up. "Best case?" you asked, half-jogging for the stairs. "He leaves with context," Sunghoon said. "Worst case—" "Viral." You didn't have to say it. It was already vibrating in the air. The Student Union atrium was a live wire. A knot of students had formed by the bulletin wall where flyers layered like geological strata. In the middle: Jake, jacket off, sleeves rolled, trying to smile without looking smug. Across from him: a junior you recognized from a rival campaign's volunteer Slack, arms crossed, chin up. Phones hovered in the edges of your vision like insects.

"...I laughed because the number was wrong," Jake was saying, hands open in what he probably thought was a friendly gesture. "I wasn't laughing at anyone—" "It sounded like you were laughing at us," the junior shot back. "At people who need that funding."

"Which is exactly why we're clarifying it," you said, stepping into the circle before the room could decide you weren't invited. The phones swiveled. Sunghoon arrived at your shoulder like a shadow that had learned to stand upright. "You're Y/N, right?" the junior asked, tone sharpened by an audience. "The one who wants to 'reallocate' anything that isn't nailed down?" "Cute," you said, smiling just enough to look like you'd slept since 2019. "The minutes are public. We posted them. I recommended moving unused grant money to save live programs. The board voted no. I didn't take a penny from anyone." "It sounds like a loophole." "It was a loophole," you said cheerfully. "A legal one that would have kept two student showcases alive. You can dislike it. That's fair. Saying I stole something is not." A murmur. A few nods. Jake relaxed a fraction you could measure with a microscope. "Also," you added, tipping your head at the junior's phone, "if you're recording, please include the part where I asked for a post-mortem to design a better grant rubric next semester. I love being quoted in full sentences." A small ripple of laughter. Sunghoon didn't laugh. But you felt the heat of his attention turn toward you, eyes steady, pride threaded through the quiet like he'd wrapped it in brown paper so it wouldn't look like a gift. "Look," Jake said, tone softening, "if I sounded like a jerk last semester, I'm sorry. We're not above apologizing when we step on toes. That's why we're doing the open Q&A hours. Ask anything; we'll pull the receipts."

Silence stretched, thinner, less hostile. The junior's jaw worked, ready to fire again — and then the crowd shifted for a new arrival. Theo. Of course it was Theo — baseball cap reversed, grin a few watts brighter than necessary, the guy who managed to smell like gum and gym at the same time. He clocked the ring of phones, the angle of attention, and saw a stage. "Y/N," he said, surprised and not surprised, like the universe had aligned itself to be generous to him. "Didn't think I'd see you running comms for a meme candidate."

"Hi, Theo," you said. "Still mistaking volume for charm?" Somewhere in your peripheral vision, Yunjin appeared, leaned against a column, and whispered god, I love when you're mean.

Theo laughed, big and bright, like he'd decided you hadn't just insulted him in front of an audience. "I liked your debate answer," he said, stepping closer than necessary. "Passionate. You always were." Sunghoon didn't move. But the air around him did. It wasn't obvious. He didn't puff up or step in or do anything idiotic. He just... focused. The way a hawk focuses when the field gets interesting. His jaw set, a muscle ticking once. His hands slid into his pockets because that's what he did when he was deciding not to do something else. Theo kept talking. "You remember the group project?" he asked, angling himself so his shoulder brushed yours. "How we carried the team?" "You mean the one where I did the work and you put your name on the slides?" you said, brightly. "Exactly, teamwork," he said, unbothered. "We should catch up." "We're catching up now." "In private." "She's busy," Sunghoon said, so calm it was almost gentle.

Theo turned, blinked like he hadn't noticed there was another person in the conversation. He took in Sunghoon's rolled sleeves, the clean lines, the eyes that did not blink back, and went for a smile that didn't reach anything soft. "And you are?"

"Opposition research," Sunghoon said. "Of a student election," Theo drawled, impressed in the way people are when they think they've found a joke they can keep forever. "Bro, touch grass." "I did," Sunghoon said, voice like cool water over stone. "It was easy. No one was standing too close to it.” The crowd's laughter broke like a small wave. Theo's smile faltered. Your cheeks hurt from not smiling. Yunjin put a hand over her mouth like she was praying for restraint. Jake, god bless him, whispered bro. to himself like a benediction.

Theo rallied. "Hey, man, relax. We're all just—" His phone pinged. He looked down, frowned, then recovered so fast you could see the thread. "Anyway. Y/N, I'm hosting an after-event at Vespa's tonight. You should swing by. We can talk... about ethics." "Pass," you said, sweet as frosting. "Bring your bodyguard," he added, a little too loud. Sunghoon's mouth didn't move. His eyes did — from Theo back to you, down to your hand where your fingers had curled into your palm, back up. Then he tipped his chin a millimeter, as if to ask a question only you could hear: You good?

You uncurl your hand. I'm good. The junior volunteer cleared her throat. "So... are we done yelling?" "We were never yelling," you said. "We were practicing literacy." "Hot," someone said. "Thank you," Yunjin replied automatically. The knot loosened. Phones lowered. Jake launched into a gentle explanation of grant structure, the crowd thinning as curiosity was fed. Theo drifted away, remembering somewhere he had to be, and the atrium's noise reshaped itself into normal campus chaos. You were left standing at the edge of it all, adrenaline ebbing, Sunghoon still at your shoulder, the line of his body stretched taut with a tension you knew had nothing to do with policy. "You didn't have to do that," you said eventually, once the worst of the heat had dissipated.

"Do what?" he asked, too innocent. "Humiliate a man with a hat." He considered. "It seemed efficient." You huffed out a laugh. The backs of your hands brushed — the smallest thing — and your body misfiled it as newsworthy. You could feel your pulse where your wrist touched your sleeve. You could feel his pulse in the tautness of his silence. "Also," he added, softer, "I didn't like him standing that close to you." You should have teased him. You didn't. "I didn't either," you said. A beat. Two. "Good," he said, and it landed heavy and warm and close to mine without being foolish enough to say it aloud in a lobby with witnesses. A door banged somewhere up the stairwell; the atrium breathed back into motion. Yunjin peeled off the column and joined you with the brisk satisfaction of a general whose side won the skirmish.

"You were perfect," she told you, then looked at Sunghoon. "And you were... frightening. In a useful way." "Thank you," he said, like she'd offered him an award for Best Quiet Menace. She glanced between you, eyes narrowed in fond suspicion. "If you two are going to fall in love, please do it on my schedule so I can live-tweet it."

"Never," you said. "Soon," she corrected, then drifted away, already texting three people and the future. Jake reappeared, flushed and triumphant. "Well, we didn't die." "Low bar, achieved, you said, passing him a bottle of water. He drank like he'd been digging trenches, then saluted you with the cap. "Next," he said, energized, "I film a goofy montage with the film club—" "No instruments," you and Sunghoon said at the same time. "Wow," Jake said solemnly. "You are one terrifying brain." "We're two brains," you said. "I stand by my sentence," Jake said, backing away before either of you could parent him harder.

When it was just the two of you again at the edge of the railing, the atrium quieter, the taste of confrontation finally fading from your tongue, you realized the burn in your chest wasn't just adrenaline. It was want. It had been building for days, a steady, sweet pressure. It felt concentrated now, an ache that made simple things — like the clean line of his throat when he swallowed, like the way his forearms flexed when he slid his hands back out of his pockets — unbearably specific. He felt it too. You could tell by the way he looked at you: not possessive, not greedy — just decided. Like he'd reached an answer he trusted.

"Tonight," he said quietly, as if testing the shape of the word. You tilted your head. "Tonight?" "Jake's filming ends at nine." He held your gaze, steady, sure. "Meet me after." Your mouth went dry. "Where?" He thought for a second, then smiled the smallest, sharpest smile. "Somewhere people won't ask us about PDFs." "Impossible," you said, but your pulse had already said yes. His phone buzzed, slicing the moment neatly. He glanced at it, jaw tightening, and for a flicker you saw something heavier — a name he didn't want to see, a conversation he didn't want to have. He swiped the notification away. Whatever that was — the thing you were going to name later — he set it aside without denting the present. "Go," you said, nodding toward the stairwell. "Before Jake brands the printer."

"He already did," he said, and you groaned because of course there were stickers. You started toward the stairs together. Halfway down the landing, a familiar voice cut across the space again — Theo, somewhere below, laughing with a friend. You felt Sunghoon feel it — not with his shoulders or his mouth, but with something you could almost see: a quiet flare, as controlled as everything else about him and twice as hot for being contained. It wasn't ugly. It wasn't petty. It was jealousy shaped like focus — a small, sharpened thing that turned his attention to you and asked a single, private question: Are you mine to worry about?

You didn't say yes. You didn't have to. The way you leaned a little closer as you walked, the way your sleeve brushed his wrist and stayed — that was answer enough for now. You reached the bottom step. Students flowed around you like a river around two stones. He didn't touch you, not where anyone could see. He didn't need to. The promise was already humming between you, steady as a heartbeat. "Tonight," he said again, softer. You met his eyes. "Tonight." And just like that, the fuse was lit.

_______

You found him exactly where you knew he'd be. The quad had emptied to a soft hum — a couple walking their bikes, a lone skateboarder rolling past the library steps, the faint echo of Jake's laughter from somewhere in the film club's orbit. And under the oldest oak, half in shadow, Sunghoon leaned against the bench like he'd been standing there a while, hands in his pockets, the night turning the clean lines of his shirt and trousers into something you couldn't stop looking at.

He saw you and straightened, slow, like the moment itself deserved patience. "You came," he said quietly. "You asked," you said, equally quiet. There was no warm-up. No small talk. You walked toward each other until you were close enough to share the same patch of air, and something in that proximity made your chest ache in a way nothing else did. He glanced down once, as if to check you were real, then back up with that same intent you'd seen all day — the kind that felt like a decision. "How was Jake's shoot?" he asked, voice low enough that it seemed meant for the space between you. "Chaotic," you said. "He almost broke a tripod." "I'm shocked." "You shouldn't be." His mouth quirked — but only for a second. Then the smile faded, replaced by something heavier. "My father called," he said. Not dramatic. Not leading. Just a fact laid between you. You didn't rush him. You just nodded once, the kind that meant go on. "He saw the debate clip. Said I was wasting my time here." A pause. "Said I sounded like him."

"That's... not the worst insult," you said gently. "It was," Sunghoon said, and there was no bitterness in it — just truth. "He's the reason I learned to win every argument. Losing wasn't an option in that house." Something twisted in your chest. "That sounds exhausting." "It was," he said. His eyes flicked to yours, searching. "It is." For a moment, you thought he might stop there. But then he exhaled and kept going, voice dipping like a secret. "You make it... different. I don't have to fight you to be heard. But I still want to win with you. That's—" He broke off, almost smiling at himself. "That's new."

Your hand moved before you thought about it, brushing a stray piece of hair back from his forehead. He didn't flinch. He just let you, eyes fixed on yours like the contact grounded him. And then his gaze dropped — slow — to your mouth. Your heart was loud now, loud enough you were sure he could feel it. You could see the moment his breath caught, the faint parting of his lips. His hand came up, fingers curling near your face before he actually touched you — like he was asking permission without saying it. When his thumb brushed your cheekbone, it was almost careful. When it skimmed the corner of your mouth, it wasn't. The pad of his thumb traced your lower lip, lingering there like he was memorizing the shape. He was still looking at you, but his lashes had dropped slightly, the weight of his focus slipping lower. When his thumb pressed gently, sliding along the seam of your lips until it was inside — just barely — you inhaled sharply.

You didn't suck on it. Not exactly. But your tongue brushed the inside edge in a way that made his breath hitch hard enough for you to feel it. His mouth curved — not a smile, something hungrier. And then he leaned in. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't clumsy. It was inevitable. The first touch of his mouth to yours was warm and patient, like he'd been rehearsing restraint for weeks and wanted you to feel every second of it breaking. His lips were soft, but the pressure built almost immediately — the tilt of his head deepening the kiss, his free hand finding your jaw, anchoring you closer. You tasted the faint hint of mint, felt the quiet sound he made in the back of his throat when you kissed him back.

When his tongue brushed yours, it was unhurried, but there was nothing innocent about it. His thumb was still at your mouth, sliding down to your chin as if he couldn't bear to stop touching you there. He kissed like he thought about it — like every movement was a choice, deliberate and exact, even when it was messy. By the time you pulled back, the space between you felt charged, the kind of air you could only breathe in small, measured doses.

"That," he said, voice low and a little rough, "was overdue." You laughed — breathless, not mocking. "We're going to have to talk about this." "I know." His thumb grazed your jaw again, lighter now. "Later." "Later," you agreed. But neither of you moved away. You just stood there, in the quiet, letting the fact of it — the kiss, the want, the love neither of you had said aloud yet — settle in like it belonged.

______

The next morning, campus had that electricity it only got after a major event — not quite celebration, not quite chaos, but something buzzing just under the skin of every conversation.

The results of Jake's campaign had been posted an hour ago, plastered on noticeboards and pinging phones in a thousand different group chats. The quad was already crowded; students were pretending to sip coffee while openly staring at anyone connected to the race. You'd been bracing yourself for this — the awkward congratulations, the curious stares — but what you hadn't prepared for was how different it felt walking into this atmosphere after last night.

Because last night, you kissed Park Sunghoon. And he kissed you back. It wasn't awkward now. If anything, it made everything sharper. The moment you spotted him across the quad, standing near the railing with a coffee in one hand and the morning sun catching on the sharp line of his jaw, it was like your pulse knew before your mind did. He looked up. Found you instantly. And just like that, it was back — that warm pull, that silent conversation in a single glance. You didn't look away. Neither did he.

---

Jake was the first to break the moment. "Manager!" he called, barreling toward you with a grin that looked a little too practiced. "We did it. Well — I did it. But you were there, so." You rolled your eyes, but the relief in his voice was obvious. "Congratulations, Jake." "Thanks." He lowered his voice. "Also, small crisis — someone's already making memes about me crying at the end of my speech last night. I wasn't crying, I was—" "Getting emotional?" you suggested. "—allergic to the podium wood," he finished flatly. You snorted, but before you could reply, Yunjin appeared from behind him, sipping her own coffee. "Or maybe you were thinking about how Y/N and Sunghoon were basically eye-fucking during your victory speech." Jake choked on his drink. "Excuse me?!" You didn't bother dignifying it with a response, but you caught the way Sunghoon — who had walked over by now — simply tilted his head and smiled, like Yunjin had said something he'd been thinking all morning.

---

The real chaos began fifteen minutes later, when word spread about a new petition. Some student committee — completely separate from the campaign — was pushing to ban the administration from monitoring student social media. The admins claimed it was "safety compliance." Everyone else called it censorship. And because you and Sunghoon had been so visible in the last few weeks, you were now "perfect neutral faces" for the press to grab for a quote. "Neutral faces?" Yunjin muttered as you, Sunghoon, Jake, and a couple other committee reps got ushered into a prep room. "That's hilarious." The prep room was cramped — one long desk, too many chairs, stacks of printed talking points. You ended up next to Sunghoon, shoulders brushing every time someone squeezed past. He smelled faintly of coffee and something sharper, clean — the kind of scent that clung to his collar and made you wonder what it would be like to lean in just a little closer. He was quieter than usual, listening more than speaking, but you could feel his attention. Even while Jake argued with one of the committee reps about phrasing, you could sense Sunghoon's gaze flicking toward you whenever you spoke. At one point, you leaned forward to reach a folder near the center of the table. The neckline of your blouse dipped, and you didn't notice until his voice faltered mid-sentence. It was barely a pause — anyone else might have missed it — but you felt it. You glanced at him. He was looking down at the papers in front of him now, jaw set, ears faintly pink. You bit back a smile. "Distracted?" you murmured when the others' conversation got louder. His eyes cut to you, slow, deliberate. "Not the word I'd use." It was nothing explicit, not here in a room full of people — but it was enough to leave your heart kicking against your ribs.

--

The meeting dissolved into a kind of semi-organized chaos, people shuffling papers and exchanging hurried plans. You and Sunghoon ended up pushed to one corner, sorting through rebuttal cards for the student media interviews scheduled for later. Every time your fingers brushed his, he didn't pull away. At one point, your knees bumped under the table. Neither of you moved. "You're still thinking about it," you said softly, not even sure why you were daring enough to say it. His eyes found yours again. Steady. "You're assuming I ever stopped." The air felt heavier then — not tense in the way it had been weeks ago, but charged. Like something between you had shifted permanently and neither of you were pretending otherwise anymore.

--

By the time the committee wrapped and everyone filed out, Jake was yelling something about ordering lunch for everyone, Yunjin was muttering about how "your sexual tension is killing my productivity," and Sunghoon was holding the door open for you with the faintest, most infuriating smile. "See you at the interviews?" he asked, voice low enough that it was just for you. You nodded. "Try not to get... distracted." The corner of his mouth curved higher. "No promises."

________

The campus media building was a mess of wires, mic stands, and too many interns pretending they had authority. You and Sunghoon had been ushered into a waiting area for the interviews, the kind with cheap fabric chairs and a coffee table stacked with magazines nobody read.

The space was too small for the number of people crammed inside. Jake sat in the far corner, reviewing his talking points with all the focus of someone about to go on national television rather than a campus broadcast. Yunjin, of course, had found the lone empty swivel chair and was spinning idly, watching the chaos with open amusement.

You ended up seated next to Sunghoon again, not because you wanted to — okay, maybe a little because you wanted to — but because the only other seat was directly under an ancient air vent spewing freezing air. Your knees bumped the second you sat down. This time, neither of you shifted.

--

The low murmur of voices filled the room, but all you could hear was the even sound of his breathing beside you. When you glanced over, you found him leaning back in the chair, one arm draped along the backrest — not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel the ghost of heat from his sleeve. "Comfortable?" you asked under your breath. "Getting there," he murmured, eyes still fixed on the far wall. "Could be warmer, though." "You could've taken the vent seat." His gaze slid to you then, slow enough to feel deliberate. "This one's better." You knew exactly what he meant, and the way his lips almost — almost — twitched into a smirk made you want to kick him under the table. Instead, you crossed your legs, the movement making your skirt shift higher along your thighs.

His eyes dropped for a fraction of a second before returning to your face. "Distracted?" you echoed from earlier. He didn't look away. "Not the word I'd use." Yunjin's voice cut through the quiet between you. "Okay, am I the only one watching this? Or are we all just pretending they're not about to—" "Yunjin," Jake warned without looking up. She grinned, leaning toward the both of you. "Fine, fine. But if you two start making out in the green room, I'm charging admission." Your cheeks warmed, but Sunghoon's only reaction was to reach for the stack of cue cards between you. His hand brushed yours — and stayed there just a little longer than necessary.

--

The first interview slot opened, and chaos erupted again. Jake was pulled into makeup, Yunjin got cornered by a tech about lighting cues, and somehow you and Sunghoon ended up sent to a cramped side room to "coordinate messaging." It was barely the size of a storage closet, with a single desk, two chairs, and an overhead light that buzzed faintly.

You sat across from him, knees knocking under the table as you sifted through the cards. The room was warm enough that you felt heat gathering at the base of your neck, and you caught him looking at you in the kind of way that made it impossible to focus on the printed words in front of you. "What?" you asked finally, leaning back in your chair. He tilted his head slightly. "Just... thinking about last night." Your pulse kicked. "And?" "And wondering why we stopped."

--

You froze for half a second — not because you didn't have an answer, but because the way he said it was so... calm. Like it was just a fact, as obvious as the desk between you. "I think we got interrupted," you said, keeping your tone light even though your heart was pounding. His mouth curved slightly. "We did." For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the light and the shuffle of cards between your fingers. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. His gaze flicked from your eyes to your mouth and back again. "You have coffee on your lip," he murmured. You were about to reach up, but he beat you to it — his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. Not hard, not lingering... just enough to make your breath hitch. And then he pulled back like nothing happened, flipping a card over. "So, question three..." You exhaled slowly, pretending to read along while trying not to think about how his touch still burned on your skin.

________

The interview was supposed to be harmless. Student-run, low stakes, barely ten minutes of airtime. And yet, the second the host leaned forward, smile syrup-sweet, and said —

"So, Y/N, you and Jake make such a charismatic team... anything more going on there?" — you knew you were in trouble. You laughed it off, shaking your head. "Strictly professional." But the host wasn't done.

"Shame. You two have great chemistry." From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunghoon's expression shift — almost imperceptibly, but enough for you to catch the way his jaw ticked, the subtle lean forward like he wanted to cut in.

--

Fifteen minutes later, you were backstage, weaving between coiled cables and stacked equipment. The muffled noise of the next segment filtered through the curtain. "Nice save in there," you said, glancing back at him. "Didn't know you could keep a straight face through that much nonsense." He didn't smile.

In two strides, he was right in front of you, the narrow hallway forcing you back until your shoulder blades brushed the wall. His hands stayed at his sides, but his presence was everywhere. "You think that was funny?" His voice was low, almost calm — except for the thread of heat running under it. You blinked up at him. "What?" "Hearing some guy tell you you have 'chemistry' with someone else." His gaze dragged down your face, lingering on your mouth. "While I'm sitting right there."

--

You swallowed. "It was an interview, Sunghoon. They were fishing." "I don't care what they were doing." He took a step closer. You could feel his breath now, warm against your cheek. "You have no idea what it's like, sitting there, watching you smile at someone else like that." "That was my polite smile." His mouth curved — not in amusement, but something darker. "Don't care. I don't like sharing it." Before you could answer, his hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch lingered, tracing down until his thumb skimmed the corner of your mouth. "You keep doing this to me," he murmured. "Sitting there, looking at me like you're not doing anything wrong, when all I can think about is how you'd taste."

--

Your breath caught as his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, just enough to make it part. "Open," he said softly.

You did. His thumb slid inside — slow, deliberate — until it rested on your tongue. He watched the way your lips closed around it, the faint scrape of your teeth. "God," he exhaled, eyes locked on yours. "You're killing me." You didn't suck, exactly, but your tongue curled just enough against the pad of his thumb to make his breath hitch. His other hand braced against the wall beside your head, caging you in. "You like teasing me?" he asked, voice rougher now. "Maybe." He huffed a laugh, low and filthy. "One day, I'm not gonna stop at this. One day, I'm gonna have you so deep in it you won't remember anyone else's name but mine."

--

A voice called from down the hall — Jake, asking if you were ready for the next photo op. Sunghoon's thumb slipped from your mouth, his hand falling back to his side like nothing happened. But his eyes... his eyes said everything. "Later," he murmured, stepping back just enough to let you pass. "We're not done."

________

The ride back from the interviews was quiet in the way that makes silence feel like a touch.

Yunjin was on her phone, Jake was reading messages, and you... you were stealing glances at the boy sitting beside you, the one whose thumb had been in your mouth less than half an hour ago. He didn't look at you once. But his hand was fisted loosely on his knee, knuckles pale, like he was holding something in.

--

When the van pulled up to the campaign office, you expected him to bolt. Instead, he waited until Jake and Yunjin headed inside, then caught your wrist as you stepped onto the pavement. "Come with me," he murmured. No explanation, no hesitation — just the quiet press of his fingers around yours as he led you down the side of the building, out of sight. The air was cooler here, the streetlights throwing soft halos across the brick wall. He stopped, turning to face you. His chest rose and fell faster than normal, eyes darting over your face like he was memorizing it. "I tried to wait," he said, voice rough, almost hoarse. "I can't."

--

Before you could answer, his hand cupped the side of your neck, pulling you in — and then his mouth was on yours, hard. It wasn't sweet this time. It was messy. Desperate. Your lips parted immediately under the pressure, and his tongue was there, hot and insistent, licking into your mouth like he'd been holding this back for years. The taste of him was dizzying — coffee, mint, something entirely him — and the quiet, wrecked noise he made into your mouth made your knees weaken.

He pressed you back against the wall, body angled over yours, one arm braced beside your head. The other slid around your waist, pulling you flush to him until you could feel the pounding of his heart against your ribs. When he pulled back for air, it was only far enough to bite your bottom lip, catching it between his teeth until you gasped. His tongue followed, soothing the sting, and then he was kissing you again, wetter this time — spit-slick and filthy, like neither of you cared about breathing. You moaned into his mouth, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. That sound undid him. His hand tightened at your waist, dragging you fully against him, hips nearly touching. You felt, more than heard, the groan that rumbled in his chest. "I'm—" he broke off, kissing you again, deeper, slower this time, like he wanted to sink into you. "—so far gone for you." You felt it in the way his thumb stroked the hollow of your hip, the way his lips kept finding yours like he couldn't bear to stop, the way he breathed your name between kisses like it was a prayer.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were panting, foreheads pressed together. A thin string of spit still connected your mouths before it broke, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate at the sight. He smiled then — small, crooked, completely unguarded. "Now I'm in trouble," he murmured.

"Why?" you whispered. "Because I'm in love with you, and I don't think I can hide it anymore."

______

The next morning felt different in a way that wasn't loud.

You didn't announce anything, didn't come in holding hands, didn't sit closer than usual. But apparently, the air between you and Sunghoon had decided to write its own press release, because Jake and Yunjin noticed within ten minutes.

You were standing by the campaign office coffee station, still running on too little sleep after last night's prep session, when Sunghoon passed behind you to grab the sugar. His hand ghosted over your back — not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for you to feel the heat of it. Jake noticed. His brows went up, and he bit back a smile, glancing between you and Sunghoon like he'd just walked in on the middle of a rom-com plot twist.

--

"Morning," Sunghoon said to the group, voice neutral. But when his eyes landed on you, there was that look — the one you'd only seen in the quiet corner last night when he'd kissed you like he was memorizing how you breathed. Yunjin wasn't as subtle as Jake.

She leaned back in her chair, pen between her teeth, and stared. "Okay. What's going on here?" "Nothing," you said too quickly, reaching for your coffee. Jake snorted. "Yeah, sure. Because 'nothing' looks exactly like you two making intense eye contact like you're about to... what's the word? Ah. Ravish each other." You choked on your sip, coughing. "Jake—" Sunghoon, bless him, looked away like maybe if he avoided eye contact with anyone but you, this conversation would cease to exist. His ears, however, had turned the faintest shade of red.

--

Yunjin leaned forward, her grin pure mischief. "Oh, this is so good. First the whole 'opposite sides of the campaign' thing, now whatever this is... I'm telling you, Jake, the voters love a good love story." Jake tilted his head, still grinning at you. "Mm-hmm. And does this love story come with an R-rating?" You gave him a look sharp enough to slice paper. "If you don't shut up, I'll reroute all your campaign emails to spam." That made him laugh, but his gaze flicked to Sunghoon. "Take care of her, man." It was joking, but there was weight under it. Sunghoon finally looked up, meeting Jake's eyes. "I do." Simple. Firm. The air went still for a beat before Yunjin clapped her hands. "Alright, alright, lovebirds, let's get back to the actual work before I start narrating this like a reality TV confessional."

--

The rest of the morning was business as usual — or at least, it tried to be. But every time you passed Sunghoon a file, your fingers brushed. Every time you leaned over his desk to look at something, his eyes lingered just a second too long. By the time Jake and Yunjin left for a lunch meeting across town, the office felt empty in a way that made your pulse jump. You were alone now. Sunghoon stood by the window, jacket off, tie loosened. His eyes followed you as you crossed the room, and there was a quiet, dangerous curve to his mouth that told you exactly where this was going.

_______

By the time you managed to escape for lunch, Yunjin had you cornered in one of the smaller break rooms. She shut the door behind her like she was about to interrogate a high-value witness. "Alright," she said, planting her hands on the table between you. "Spill. I'm not talking vague. I want details." You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "It was just—" "Don't you dare say 'just a kiss.'" She pointed a finger at you. "Because the way Sunghoon has been looking at you all morning? That was not a PG-13 peck." Heat rose in your cheeks before you could stop it. "Fine. It... wasn't exactly gentle." Yunjin grinned like she'd just hit the jackpot. "Define 'wasn't gentle.'" You hesitated, then gave up trying to downplay it. "It was... rough. Not in a bad way — in a God, I've been waiting for this forever way. He kissed me like he didn't want to stop breathing me in." You shook your head, biting your lip at the memory. "There was... a lot of saliva. Lip biting. His hands were—" You stopped, realizing you were practically giving her a play-by-play. "Oh, no, keep going," she urged, sliding into the seat across from you like she was settling in for a movie.

"They were in my hair, pulling me closer. And at one point..." You swallowed. "He pulled back just enough to look at me, and he said—" "What?" she demanded. You took a deep breath. "That he's in love with me." Yunjin froze for half a second, then slapped the table so hard you jumped. "HE WHAT?!" You laughed nervously, rubbing your hands together. "Yeah. And I didn't say it back. Not because I didn't want to, but because I was... shocked. I mean, I am in love with him. I've been in love with him. But I just—" "—completely short-circuited," she finished for you, still looking like she was about to combust. "Oh my God. You're telling him back, right? Right?" "I will," you promised, a smile tugging at your lips. "Soon. I want it to be... right." She leaned back, fanning herself. "When you do, you'd better hope I'm not around, because I will scream. That man is gone for you. Like, clinically." You laughed, but the truth of it settled warm in your chest. He was gone for you. And soon, you'd tell him you were just as gone for him.

______

It was supposed to be nothing more than study prep.

Sunghoon had offered to stop by after dinner to help you review a few points for Jake's next campaign appearance — he had the opposition's talking points down to muscle memory, and you... well, you were better with coffee and highlighters than you were with statistics under pressure. You didn't even realize how much you'd cleaned until you heard the knock on your door. The apartment didn't look like you lived there — bed neatly made, pillows fluffed, faint candle burning on the nightstand. The living room had been a lost cause (you had too many notes spread out), so you'd resigned yourself to working in your bedroom. When you opened the door, Sunghoon stood there with his jacket over one arm, sleeves rolled to his forearms, hair a little mussed from the wind. His eyes scanned you quickly — in that way he did where it felt like he was memorizing something before you could hide it — and then flicked past you to the tidy bed. "You've been cleaning," he said, lips twitching. "You've been imagining things," you countered, stepping aside to let him in. He smirked just enough to make your pulse skip and followed you inside.

--

Ten minutes later, you were both cross-legged on your bed, papers spread between you. You were trying to explain your outline for Jake's response strategy when you noticed Sunghoon leaning back against the headboard, listening — or at least pretending to. "What?" you asked when you caught him staring. "Nothing," he said, too quickly. "Just... you talk with your hands a lot." You rolled your eyes, tossing a pen at him. "You're impossible." "I'm observant," he corrected, catching the pen without looking away from you. "And you're avoiding my notes." "I'm not avoiding—" you started, but his grin told you he knew exactly how much you were.

--

The banter kept up like that — soft jabs, quick comebacks, the kind of easy rhythm that had been building for weeks. You were laughing at something he said when he reached over to tug gently at the sleeve of your shirt, a wordless signal to move closer so you could both look at the same page. You did — but your knees bumped. Stayed there.

He didn't move his. His voice dipped just slightly as he asked, "You always let people take over your space like this?" You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Only when they bring decent notes." "Mm." His gaze held yours a beat too long. "Guess I'll have to keep showing up, then."

You meant to laugh it off, but the air felt different now — slower, thicker. The paper in front of you was suddenly irrelevant.

He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just long enough to make you shiver. "You're distracted," he murmured. "I wonder whose fault that is," you whispered back. His eyes softened, but there was something hungrier under it now. His thumb brushed your cheekbone, then traced along your jaw, and you swore you saw his breath hitch before his gaze dropped to your mouth. "What are you thinking about?" you asked quietly. He hesitated, then gave you the truth, low and unsteady. "Last night. The way you tasted. The way you looked at me." Your chest tightened, heat pooling low in your stomach. "You're not supposed to distract me." He smirked faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes this time — those stayed locked on you like you were the only thing worth noticing. "Not supposed to, but I want to." The words sat between you for a second before he leaned forward, thumb brushing your bottom lip. This time, it wasn't just a graze — he pressed gently until your lips parted, the pad of his thumb sliding into your mouth.

Your tongue met his touch instinctively, tracing the warm skin, and his jaw tightened.

He didn't break eye contact, watching you as you flicked the tip of your tongue over the edge of his thumb. "God," he muttered, almost under his breath, "you're gonna kill me." The thumb withdrew, but his hand didn't leave your face — it tilted your chin up, his fingers threading into your hair. You could feel him leaning in, slow enough for you to stop him if you wanted to. You didn't. His mouth found yours in a kiss that was... devastating. Not gentle, not rushed — deliberate. Lips parting, pulling, tasting, biting just enough to make you gasp into him. His other hand found your thigh, squeezing lightly before sliding higher, and you couldn't stop the soft sound that escaped you. He swallowed it in the next kiss, pressing you back against the pillows like he needed you closer than this bed would allow.

_______

His mouth left yours just long enough to trail kisses down the side of your neck, the kind that started soft but got bolder when he heard the change in your breathing. "Sensitive here?" he murmured against your throat, and before you could answer, his teeth grazed the skin just above your pulse point. You gasped, clutching at his shoulders, nails curling into the cotton of his shirt. He grinned against your neck — you could feel it — and muttered, "Noted." When he pulled back to look at you, his eyes were darker now, almost glossy with how much he wanted you. His hand slid into your hair, curling just enough to tilt your head back, exposing more of your neck to him. You laughed breathlessly. "You're enjoying this way too much."

He smirked, thumb brushing over your jaw. "And you're not?"

Before you could answer, his mouth was on you again, this time deeper, filthier — a kiss that left your lips tingling. You felt his hand slide from your hair to cup the back of your neck, holding you there while his tongue swept against yours. The control in the way he moved you was enough to make your stomach flip. When he finally pulled back, his breath was unsteady. "You have no idea what you're doing to me." "Maybe I do," you whispered, and his eyes flashed with something primal.

That was the moment his hand trailed lower, over your side, past your hip, until his palm was resting on your thigh. He squeezed once, then slid his hand higher, fingers tracing the edge of your shorts before brushing over the thin fabric of your panties. Your breath caught — it was barely a touch, but it sent a rush straight through you. He glanced up at you, gauging your reaction, and when you didn't pull away, his fingers pressed just slightly harder. "Already warm," he said quietly, almost to himself, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

He started slow, just moving his fingers over you in lazy circles, the fabric catching against your skin in a way that made you squirm. You tried to bite back the sound in your throat, but his other hand tangled back in your hair, holding you steady. "Don't hide it from me," he murmured. Your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as his movements grew more deliberate, the heel of his palm pressing where you needed it most. Every so often, he'd kiss you again — quick, hungry pecks between touches, like he couldn't decide which he wanted more.

______

The lazy circles he'd been tracing over you suddenly picked up speed — not a gradual build, just a shift into something faster, hungrier. Your gasp turned into a broken sound, head tipping back against the wall behind your bed, but Sunghoon didn't stop. He leaned in, his forehead almost brushing yours, eyes locked on your face like he wanted to memorize every reaction. "You like that?" he asked, voice low and rough. Your answer was a shaky nod, but he didn't seem satisfied — his fingers pressed harder through the fabric, moving so quickly the friction made your thighs tremble. Your breath came in shallow bursts, your mouth falling open, and his eyes flicked down to it before dragging back up to meet yours.

The look in them was devastating — all soft devotion tangled with raw need, like he couldn't decide whether to worship you or ruin you. "God, you're—" He cut himself off, biting his lip, then leaning forward to kiss you hard. It wasn't sweet. It was all teeth and tongue, his mouth claiming yours while his hand worked you over mercilessly. The sound of the fabric dragging against you filled the air between gasps and muffled moans. Your hips started to move with his hand, chasing the pressure, and that was all it took for him to lose the last bit of composure. His own hips pressed into yours, the hard line of him grinding against your thigh. You felt him — solid, unyielding — and it made your eyes flutter shut for a second. When you opened them again, he was watching you with that wrecked expression, jaw clenched, breathing ragged. "Look at me," he said quietly, almost pleading, his hand never slowing. You did, and it was like something broke in him. His forehead pressed to yours again, his hips moving with a sharp rhythm as his fingers kept up their relentless pace. Every stroke made your eyes roll back, your mouth parting helplessly. You tried to form words, but they dissolved into little moans that only spurred him on. He groaned under his breath, the sound vibrating against your lips. "You're so wet for me, even like this..." His thumb dragged harder, faster, over the exact spot that made you jolt.

You felt his breathing hitch — every time your body reacted, his hips ground into you harder, like he couldn't help it. The heat of him, the rhythm of his touch, the way his gaze burned into you — it was dizzying. When your hand fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer, his lips brushed your ear. "You have no idea how much I want you right now." And the way he said it — not a tease, not a joke — made you believe it down to your bones.

______

The second you tugged at his shirt like you couldn't take any more, something in him shifted — a decision, quick and irreversible. Without breaking eye contact, Sunghoon slid his hand down between your thighs again, this time slipping under the waistband of your shorts and panties in one motion. The first touch of his fingers against your bare skin was enough to make you gasp, your hips jerking forward into him. "Fuck—" he breathed out, low and shaky, staring down at where his hand had disappeared. "You're dripping."

He didn't ease you in. Two fingers pushed inside immediately, the stretch deep and rough, making your mouth fall open. His thumb settled perfectly against your clit, pressing in a tight circle before dragging hard. You clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in, and he kissed you again — a filthy, wet kiss that swallowed the moan you let out when his fingers curled just right inside you. "Say it," he murmured against your lips, voice breaking with arousal. "Say you want me to fuck you with my fingers." Your answer was half a whimper, half a plea: "I want it."

He didn't just give it to you — he took it from you. His pace turned brutal, his fingers driving into you over and over, the wet sounds of it filling the room.

Your head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut, and he immediately tangled his free hand in your hair, pulling just enough to make you look at him. "Don't hide from me," he said, almost desperate. "I want to see every fucking second of it." You could barely hold his gaze with the way his fingers were hitting that spot deep inside you, his thumb rubbing faster on your clit until your thighs trembled. Every time you clenched around him, his jaw tightened and his breathing got harsher. "That's it. Take it for me, baby." When you let out a shaky "Sunghoon—" his thumb pressed harder, and the pressure in your stomach snapped — but before you could fall apart completely, he pulled his fingers out. The loss made you whine, but then you realized why — he was moving down, pushing you back against the bed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open, and his eyes met yours from between them — dark, starving, and entirely in love. "I've wanted to taste you since the first time you fucking smiled at me," he admitted, voice rough with honesty. Then his mouth was on you.

It wasn't tentative — it was possession. His tongue dragged through you slowly at first, savoring the taste, before focusing on your clit with relentless flicks that made your hips jerk. He groaned into you when you gripped his hair, the vibration making you gasp. "God, you taste so good," he said between licks, voice muffled against you. "Sweet, warm—fuck, I could stay here all night." You couldn't think — not with his tongue circling and sucking, not with his hands pinning your hips down when you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure. When his eyes looked up at you, his mouth still working you, the sight alone made your chest tighten. "Tell me you're mine," he said, pulling back just long enough to breathe, lips shiny and wet. "I'm yours," you managed, voice breaking. His smirk was pure heat. "Then come on my tongue and let me prove it."

___________

The wet, obscene sounds of his tongue on you filled the quiet of your room, each flick against your clit making your thighs shake harder.

He didn't hold back — the flat of his tongue would press broad and slow against you one second, then the tip would circle and tap right on the swollen bundle of nerves the next. Every movement made the slick between you louder, wetter, and he was eating up every second of it.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned into you, lips sealing around your clit as he sucked hard enough to make your eyes roll back. The sound was filthy, like he wanted to drain every bit of you onto his tongue. He'd pause for just a second to breathe, letting his hot breath ghost over you before dragging his tongue upward again. "You're so sensitive... you twitch every time I touch you here," he said, flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly against your clit until your hips lifted off the bed. Your moans were shameless now, spilling out between sharp gasps as he kept you pinned down. Every lick was followed by a low hum, like he was savoring your taste. "You're fucking perfect," he murmured against you, his lips wet and swollen, "so soft, so sweet... made for my mouth." The combination of his tongue stroking hard over your clit and his voice — low, wrecked, completely gone for you — was too much. "Sunghoon— I'm—" "I know," he said quickly, almost possessively, before sealing his mouth around you again. His tongue rolled against you in deep, deliberate pressure, alternating with sharp, fast flicks until the knot inside you snapped. Your thighs clamped around his head, and then it happened — your body jolted, a rush of wet heat spilling over his mouth and chin. The sound it made — a sharp splash over his lips — made his eyes widen, but he didn't pull away.

"Holy fuck," he breathed when he finally lifted his head, his face glistening with you. His tongue darted out to lick the corner of his mouth, and his pupils were blown wide.

"You just squirted on me." You flushed hard, but he wasn't teasing — he was turned on to the point of shaking. "That was the hottest thing I've ever fucking seen." His voice dropped lower, darker. "I want to make you do that again."

But then he sat back onto his knees, looking down at you with something almost reverent. His hand went to the bulge in his trousers, palming himself through the fabric with a quiet groan, eyes locked on your face. His lips parted like he couldn't believe how much he wanted you right now. "Please." Just one word — needy, reverent, and laced with desperation.

______

You pushed yourself up slowly, your legs still trembling from the way he'd just wrecked you. He stayed there on his knees in front of you, hand still palming his cock through his trousers, lips shiny and swollen, eyes fixed on you like he couldn't look anywhere else. That one word — please — was still hanging in the air between you. You leaned forward, your palm sliding over the bulge in his pants, pressing down just enough to make him groan. He was hard — painfully so — and the heat of him burned through the fabric. "You did so well for me, Hoon," you murmured, your voice low and sweet, brushing the words right against his ear. "You made me feel so good... all over your mouth, all over your face." He let out a shaky laugh, but it broke into a gasp when you squeezed gently. "You liked it, didn't you?" you asked, teasing but tender, your thumb brushing the head of his cock through the cloth.

"I loved it," he admitted without hesitation, his hips twitching forward into your hand. "You don't even know—" "Then let me return the favor." You started undoing his belt, your fingers slow and deliberate, watching the way his breath got heavier with every movement. The moment you unzipped him, the hard outline of him pressed forward, straining against his boxers.

You cupped him through the thin fabric, giving him a slow stroke. He groaned low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut for a second.

"God, baby..." His voice was wrecked, almost unrecognizable. "You've been so good to me," you whispered, your lips brushing his jaw, "I want to taste you." That got his eyes open again — dark, wide, hungry. "Fuck— yeah. Please."

You pushed his boxers down, and his cock sprang free, flushed and heavy in your hand. He was already leaking, and the sight alone made you feel lightheaded. You wrapped your fingers around him, starting slow, stroking from the base up to the slick head, spreading his pre-cum with your thumb. He let out a deep groan, his head tipping back for a moment before he looked back down at you like he couldn't stand not seeing. "You're so big, Hoon," you breathed, leaning down just enough to let your lips ghost over the tip without taking him in yet.

His jaw clenched, and his hand went instinctively to your hair, not pushing — just holding, like he needed the contact. "Fuck, say that again," he muttered. "You're big... and so hard for me," you said, giving him another slow stroke. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Thinking about me on my knees for you." He bit his lip, his breath catching. "Every fucking night."

You licked up the underside of his shaft, slow and deliberate, feeling him twitch under your tongue. The first time you wrapped your lips around the head, his hips jerked forward slightly, and a sharp groan ripped from his chest. "Oh, fuck— you feel so good."

You took him deeper, your hand working the part of him your mouth couldn't reach yet, twisting slightly as you stroked. The wet sounds of your mouth on him filled the air, obscene and intimate. When you pulled back just to catch your breath, a thin line of spit connected your lips to him. You met his gaze as you licked it away and let more saliva drip from your mouth onto his length, using your hand to spread it. "Messy girl," he rasped, both praise and curse. "You're gonna kill me." You smiled against him, then took him in deeper this time, relaxing your throat until the head brushed the back. His groan was low and guttural, his hand tightening in your hair — still careful, still reverent, even with how desperate he was. "You're perfect," he said, voice breaking. "So fucking perfect for me."

You hummed around him, and the vibration made him gasp. His thighs tensed, and his hips gave a small, helpless thrust before he caught himself. You pulled back just enough to speak, your voice husky: "Don't hold back. I want you to fuck my mouth." His eyes went black at that, his chest rising and falling fast. "Baby— if I do that, I'm not gonna last." "Then don't."

_______

Sunghoon's breath was already ragged, but something in your voice — the way you'd just told him not to hold back — snapped the last thread of restraint he had.

His hand tightened in your hair, not yanking, just guiding. "Look at me," he said, low and rough. You tilted your eyes up at him as you wrapped your lips back around him, taking him in deeper. His jaw flexed, and you could see the muscle ticking there, like he was holding himself back from ruining you. "Fuck— you're so beautiful like this," he breathed, thumb brushing over your cheekbone before settling at the corner of your mouth, feeling the stretch of your lips around him. He eased his hips forward, testing, and when you didn't flinch, he gave a slow thrust deeper into your mouth. You gagged softly around him, eyes watering instantly — and he groaned like it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. "That's it," he said, voice almost reverent. "God, those eyes— keep looking at me." Your mascara was already smudged from earlier, and now with the tears spilling over, you knew you looked wrecked for him. He loved it — you could see it in the way his gaze drank you in, dark and adoring all at once.

He started moving — slow at first, then picking up pace, the wet schlk of your lips around him filling the space between his broken moans. You could feel your spit and his pre-cum mixing, dripping down your chin, your throat working to take as much of him as possible. Every time you gagged, his fingers tightened in your hair, his breath hitching. "You're so fucking good to me," he panted, hips rocking into your mouth. "Taking me so deep— fuck, baby, I can feel your throat." Your eyes rolled back for a second at the sound of his voice — the filth, the awe in it — and when you looked back up, his expression almost undid you. He was gone — flushed cheeks, lips parted, brows drawn together in desperate pleasure, watching every twitch of your mouth on him.

"Pretty girl," he rasped, almost to himself. "My pretty girl..." When you flattened your tongue under him and let your throat open, he groaned so loud you swore someone outside could hear. His thrusts got rougher, more urgent, but never careless. He wanted you ruined, but still wanted you safe. "Shit— I'm close," he warned, his voice shaking. You sucked harder, your hand twisting at the base, encouraging him. His hips stuttered.

Then his eyes locked on yours, pupils blown wide, and he growled, "Don't you dare look away." You held his gaze, teary and flushed, lips stretched around him — and that was it. With a broken groan, his hips slammed forward, burying himself in your mouth as he came. The heat hit your throat in quick, pulsing waves, the taste flooding over your tongue. You swallowed instinctively, still holding him deep, your eyes still locked on his even as fresh tears slipped free. He looked completely undone, mouth parted, chest heaving, eyes so full of you it almost hurt.

--

When he finally pulled back, his cock slipped from your lips with a wet pop, a thin line of spit and cum connecting you for a second before breaking. He stared at you — at your messy chin, your wet lashes, your flushed cheeks — like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "Holy fuck," he breathed, almost laughing in disbelief. "You... you just killed me." He still hadn't stopped palming your hair, brushing damp strands back gently now. Then, softer but with that same awe, "I'm so fucking in love with you."

_______

He was still holding your face like it was something precious, chest rising and falling fast from the high he'd just come down from. "I'm so fucking in love with you," he repeated, voice low and raw. Your heart hammered. The words slipped out before you could think.

"I love you too." It was quiet but certain — no hesitation, no doubt.

Something changed in his expression instantly. His mouth parted like he'd just been hit in the chest, and for a second, he didn't move. Then he kissed you — hard, desperate, his lips still tasting faintly of you from earlier. You were already pulling him closer, hands sliding down his toned stomach until you felt him again — already heavy, already hard, his skin hot against your palm. He groaned into your mouth, breaking the kiss just enough to press his forehead to yours. "I need to be inside you," he said, not like a demand, but like a plea.

You let him push you back gently until your head hit the pillows. His shirt came off fast — you didn't even register the motion, just the sudden expanse of bare chest above you, his abs tightening as he worked his trousers open. When he pushed them down, his cock was flushed and thick again, and your breath caught at the sight. The weight of it in his hand as he stroked himself made your thighs clench. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, settling between your legs, the tip of him brushing against your entrance. His free hand came up to cup one breast, thumb circling your nipple slowly. "I want to fuck you and keep you full until you can't think."

He pushed in slowly at first, the thick head stretching you open, making you gasp. The stretch burned in the best way, your walls gripping around him immediately. "God— so tight," he groaned, jaw clenching, eyes locked on where you were taking him. When his hips pressed flush against yours, you both exhaled hard — the fullness overwhelming. He stayed there for a beat, one hand gripping your thigh, the other still palming your breast. Then he started moving.

The first few thrusts were slow, deep, letting you feel every inch of him. His balls tapped against you softly each time he bottomed out, the sound wet and obscene in the quiet room. "Feel that?" he asked, voice rough. "All the way inside... fuck, you're perfect." You moaned, nails digging into his shoulders. He dropped his head to your chest, lips closing around your nipple, sucking while his hips sped up. The wet pull of his mouth on your breast and the deep stretch of him inside you made your back arch off the bed.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hair falling over his forehead, sweat beading at his temples. His expression was wrecked — flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes dark with lust and something softer underneath. "Gonna fill you up," he groaned, one hand sliding down to your hip to hold you in place. "Gonna cum so deep you'll feel me for days." The words made your walls clamp around him, and he felt it. His thrusts turned sharper, balls slapping harder against you. "Say you love me again," he demanded between thrusts, his voice breaking slightly. "I love you," you gasped, and his groan in response was almost animal.

He moved faster now, his hips driving into yours, every push sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. You could hear the wet sound of him inside you, the low slap of skin, the faint catch in his breath each time your walls clenched. "Fuck— I'm so close," he panted, his rhythm faltering just slightly. His free hand cupped your breast again, squeezing, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

His eyes locked on yours again, and you could see it — the exact second he let go. With one final, deep thrust, he buried himself fully inside, groaning as the heat of his release filled you. He stayed there, pressed deep, his hips twitching with aftershocks, balls snug against you as he pumped every drop into you. When he finally eased back slightly, you could feel the warm spill of him inside, his cock still heavy and hard. He kissed you again — slower this time, like he was sealing something in.

He was still inside you when he whispered against your ear, voice dark with need.

"Not done with you." Your legs twitched from the oversensitivity, but your body reacted instantly, tightening around him. His lips brushed your cheek, then your jaw.

"You think one round's enough after what you just said to me?" he murmured, hips already starting to move again. The tenderness from moments ago was gone. This was sharp, hungry, impatient. He pulled out almost entirely, just to slam back in hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall. Your gasp turned into a moan as his pace went from steady to brutal — each thrust hitting deep, his balls slapping hard against your ass. "Listen to that," he gritted out, the wet, obscene sounds of your pussy taking him echoing in the room. "You're fucking soaked for me. You like when I use you like this?" "Yes—" you gasped, cut off by a rough thrust that knocked the word out of you. He grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head back just enough to make your spine arch beautifully for him. His mouth was right at your ear now. "Say it again. Say you love me while I fuck you like this." "I—love— you," you moaned, broken between thrusts. "Good girl." His voice was all grit and pride. "Gonna cum in you again. Make it drip down your thighs."

He flipped you over without warning, dragging you onto your hands and knees. His hands gripped your hips hard, thumbs digging into your skin as he lined himself up again. The first thrust from behind made you cry out — it was deeper like this, rougher, every stroke hitting a spot that had your arms shaking. "Fuck, this view," he groaned, one hand sliding down to smack your ass, the sharp sound followed by a delicious sting. "Watching my cock disappear inside your perfect little pussy... never getting over it."

He reached under you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, messy circles that matched the frantic pace of his hips. The combination had your breath stuttering, your knees threatening to give. "You're dripping all over me," he groaned. "Making a mess on my cock. You love it, don't you?" "Y-yes—" you managed, only for it to break into a loud moan when he started grinding into you in between thrusts, pressing deep before pulling out just to slam in again. He was relentless now, fucking you hard enough that you could feel his balls slap against you with each thrust. "Gonna cum— fuck, gonna pump you so full it leaks for hours," he growled, hips snapping into you. The words pushed you over the edge — your orgasm ripped through you, making your pussy clamp so hard around him he cursed loudly. "Fuck—fuck, that's it—" His thrusts got sloppy, rougher, until he buried himself deep one last time and spilled hot inside you again, groaning your name like it was the only word he knew.

When he finally pulled out, the sight of your pussy fluttering and leaking his cum made him groan again. He palmed himself lazily, eyes still fixed on the mess.

"Could go again," he murmured, still out of breath. "But I'd ruin you completely."

______

The room still smelled like sex — heavy and warm — and the sheets were a tangled mess beneath you. You were still catching your breath, but Sunghoon didn't move far. He stayed pressed to you, his hand lazily stroking up and down your side, his forehead resting against yours like he didn't dare let the moment break. When he finally pulled back enough to look at you, his hair was a wild mess, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-swollen, eyes still soft and blown out from everything that had just happened.

"I need to say this before I combust," he murmured, his voice hoarse but steady.

"Can I please be your boyfriend?" The question landed with the weight of everything you'd just felt between you — the way he'd touched you like you were precious and fucked you like he'd been waiting forever. You blinked at him, almost laughing at how urgent he looked, but his eyes weren't joking. He was dead serious. "I mean it," he continued quickly, his hand coming up to cradle your face like he was afraid you'd look away.

"I want to wake up next to you every day. I want to see you smile every time I walk into a room. I want to be the one you lean on when shit gets hard. I want to... be yours. Completely." Your throat tightened, and before you could speak, he added, "You already own me, you know. I just... want it official." You laughed softly, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "You're ridiculous." "Yeah," he admitted without hesitation. "Ridiculous for you." It made your heart ache in the best way. "Yes," you said simply, and the way his entire face lit up could've powered the whole campus. "Yes?" he echoed, grinning like a kid before leaning in to kiss you again — soft this time, lingering, all the heat replaced with something warm and infinite.

--

By the time you both dragged yourselves out of bed and into clean clothes, the glow between you was impossible to hide. Which, as you realized the moment you stepped into the student union, was going to be a problem. Because Jake and Yunjin were both there. And you and Sunghoon were... holding hands. Jake froze mid-sip of his coffee, eyes darting to your interlocked fingers like he'd just spotted a UFO. "No. No way. I leave you alone for two days and this happens?" Yunjin didn't even look surprised — she just raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Knew it. Saw it coming from a mile away. The tension was practically a health hazard."

Jake set his coffee down like he needed both hands to gesture. "Do you two understand the levels of smug you're radiating right now? It's offensive." Sunghoon just smirked, squeezing your hand, clearly unbothered. "Jealous?"

"Not jealous," Jake shot back instantly. "Disgusted. And slightly betrayed. Mostly disgusted."

Yunjin, leaning back in her chair, chimed in, "So... when's the wedding?" You groaned, burying your face in your free hand, but Sunghoon just grinned wider, his thumb stroking the back of your hand like he couldn't stop touching you. "Sooner than you think," he deadpanned, earning a dramatic gag from Jake and a slow clap from Yunjin.

_______

The teasing from Jake and Yunjin faded into background noise the second Sunghoon tugged you gently toward the exit. Not in a rush, not dragging you — just... guiding you, like he wanted to be anywhere but under that fluorescent lighting with everyone staring. The late evening air was cool when you stepped outside, the campus quieter now. You walked without talking for a bit, the sound of your shoes on the pavement and the faint rustle of leaves filling the silence. His thumb kept brushing against yours, like even now he had to keep touching you. When you reached the edge of the quad, he stopped. You turned toward him, expecting some joke about Jake, but instead, he just looked at you. Really looked. Like he was memorizing your face.

"You know," he said softly, "I wasn't exaggerating in there. About the waking up next to you part." Your chest tightened. "You were serious." "Dead serious." He stepped closer, the warmth of him chasing away the chill. "I want all of it. The big stuff. The boring stuff. The you-stealing-my-fries stuff. Everything. I want you when you're laughing, when you're pissed at me, when you're stressed out over work... I want you." You could feel your heart beating in your fingertips. "You already have me," you said quietly. That smile — the one that made you feel like you were the only person on earth — broke across his face. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in like he couldn't get enough. "I'm so gone for you," he murmured. "Like... hopeless." You laughed under your breath, slipping your arms around his waist. "Good. Because I'm not letting you go."

--

For a while, you just stood there, wrapped up in each other. No noise, no eyes on you, no deadlines. Just you and him, the glow of the campus lights painting him in gold, and the knowledge that whatever came next, you were walking into it together.

______

OKAY SO THAT'S IT. WE'RE DONE. MY BEAUTIFUL, CHAOTIC, SLOW-BURN IDIOTS FINALLY GOT TOGETHER AND DID THE NASTY — AND NOW I'M JUST SITTING HERE LIKE A PROUD PARENT WHO ALSO PROBABLY NEEDS THERAPY.

THANK YOU FOR READING, SCREAMING, AND LOSING BRAIN CELLS WITH ME. I'M GRATEFUL, I'M EMOTIONAL, AND I'M ALSO WONDERING WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE NOW THAT I CAN'T DRAG OUT THEIR ROMANTIC TENSION ANYMORE.

FORGET TO HYDRATE AND BULLY JAKE.

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he froze, heeseung physically turned red at your comment. he couldn't believe his ears.

he blinked, "what?"

you sat up straight again, trying to steady yourself. "i want to marry you." you repeated yourself, making you loud and clear now. "let's get married now."

your eyes were wide open now, your face stoic amidst the flushed cheeks. "look, i'm wearing white. i'm ready." you looked down at yourself as you fixed your hair, trying to make it look presentable.

"baby, you cannot be serious." he tried to laugh it off, oh but you'd never let this go. not now. not on the day of your marriage of course.

"dead serious." you nodded.

he chuckled, not believing what he was hearing. heeseung always knew he was going to marry you. he knew at the end of the day, it was always you who he'd come to.

"alright, i'll marry you. i was going to do it anyways." he sighed as he spoke, in hopes of getting you home.

"where's my ring?" you pouted, crossing your arms.

he blinked again. oh this girl could not be serious.

heeseung looked at you with the biggest smile on his face, "you want a ring?"

"how else are we getting married? c'mon, quick!" you rushed him, tugging at his sleeve.

he sighed, looking down at his hand and tugging the ring that rested on his pinky finger.

"this good enough?" he asked you.

"perfect." you said, that smile on your face rested on your face again.

he took your hand in his, almost about to put his ring on your finger. that was before it hit you.

you suddenly jerked your hand away from his making him confused. "what about your vows?" your voice was soft amidst the crowd of the bar.

heeseung sighed again, smiling at your silliness. "vows?"

"yeah, how else am i supposed to know we are going to last forever. what if you leave me because you didn't say your vows? do you hate me?"

"woah, baby. i won't leave you. i'll say my vows." his words were full of promise as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i will be there by your side. i won't ever leave you. i promise to be there when you're happy, sad, drunk and out of your mind." heeseung said this with the biggest smile on his face. getting married in a bar was the last thing he thought he'd be doing, but he wouldn't be anywhere else.

you giggled at his words, "my turn, i promise to be there whenever you lose in league, or when you get sick and i have to hold up your hair. i'll be your biggest supporter and fan, and um, i love you."

heeseung laughed softly, you swore you could see his eyes tearing up but he'd deny that forever.

without saying anything else, he took your hand and slipped his ring onto your finger. it was a little loose but it was perfect. you looked down at it and wiggled your fingers.

you laughed, squealing even at the fact that you got married to the boy you loved. you were now sober enough to realise what was happening. it was surreal and beautiful. now, you were married to a boy who's seen you through your worst and your best, on a random saturday night with a hangover headache awaiting you the next day.

you looked up at him now, "well... you may kiss the bride now."

heeseung's smile only deepened, without hesitation his arms were wrapped around your waist. "c'mere."

he leaned in slowly, his lips brushed gently against your plush lips. it was everything you dreamed about. your first kiss as newlyweds. the bar you were in didn’t matter, the wine stain on your white shirt didn’t matter nor did the bartender looking at you both from time to time. the world around you slowly faded away. it was just you and him.

heeseung finally kissed you. he kissed you as your husband who had promised to cherish you forever. you pulled him in by the tie and deepened the kiss. your heart raced and you were sure his did too. your lips melted against his, like it was made for him.

you were sure to cherish him as well. to be by his side tomorrow and the day after that too. you were sure to change his contact name to 'hubby' the moment you get home and cuddle him when he gets under the sheets.

you pulled away from the kiss, breathless. he looked at you with nothing but adoration. "let's go home, wifey."

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Jungwon dramatically declared, “You’re practically moving to another country.”

“Jungwon, I’m literally a two-hour train ride away.”

“That’s basically Europe.”

You rolled your eyes at the memory, smiling to yourself.

Still, you were glad you’d made the decision to move. Three years ahead of you… of being on your own, of learning to be independent, part-time jobs, and what you hoped…a future incoming relationship. It should be easy. It should be peaceful. It should be—

“DUDE!!!”

A scream ripped through your wall.

It came from the wall to your right, a thin wall nudged between you and your neighbours. You could hear celebrations. A voice shouted, “THAT WAS INSANE!” followed by a loud thump like someone had jumped off the sofa.

You tried ignoring it at first, burying yourself under the blanket like it could block out noise. But 20 minutes in, another screamed “HE’S OFFSIDE, YOU DUMB—” loud enough to rattle the walls, you snapped.

You threw on your hoodie, jammed your feet into slippers, and marched out the front door like you were storming a battlefield. The hallway was dim and quiet, except for the muffled party behind door 3C. You knocked, hard, but polite.

The door creaked open mid-laughter, revealing three guys mid-snack, mid-game.

“Hi,” you said, tight smile. “Sorry to bother you, but… would you mind keeping it down a little? I’ve got a test tomorrow and it’s kinda hard to focus with all the screaming.”

The one with fluffy hair, cute little eyes, nodded immediately. “Shit. Sorry, sorry. Totally our bad.”

Another one, long lashes and a goofy smile, actually winced. “Didn’t realise it was that loud. We’ll keep it down, promise.”

“Are you new here?” the first one asked.

You nodded. “I just moved in today, actually.”

“Oh shit. Mrs Kim moved out?”

“Damn, we’re not getting her kimchi anymore, that’s for sure.”

“We gotta eat those store-bought ones that taste like ass.”

The second boy looked at you again, more focused this time. “Oh right! I’m Jake! It’s great to meet you! I’m sorry it happened under… unfortunate circumstances. But we’ll be quieter!”

“I’m Jay, by the way,” the first one added with a small grin, pushing his hair back.

You nodded, smiling slightly. At least they were nice about it. Well, two out of three, anyway.

You glanced past both of them, eyes landing on the third boy slouched on the couch, still holding the controller, gaze fixed on the paused screen like you weren’t even there. His jaw clenched once. No name. No hello. Just a subtle, annoyed glance in your direction before he looked away again.

Cool. So he hates you. That’s cool with you.

The third guy didn’t say anything. Just glanced at you once, then turned back toward the TV.

“Uh, thanks,” you said, lips tight, already backing away.

You returned to your apartment and for a blessed thirty minutes, it was quiet.

Then someone scored a goal and the wall shook again.

You blinked slowly at your ceiling, arms folded under your head like the weight of your patience was finally starting to crush your ribs. Okay. So that’s how it was going to be. You frowned.

And that was literally… how war started.

The next morning, fuelled by petty vengeance and two hours of sleep, you grabbed your pastel pink sticky notes and wrote:

“Dear 3C, I’ve played FIFA before. It is not that damn fun for you to be out here screaming. Please tone it down. Regards, the zombie in 3B.”

You slapped it on their door. Nothing changed.

And the next day:

“Dear 3C, I can’t sleep. Kindly shut up <3 With love, the girl one more sleepless night away from writing to the landlord. 3B.”

You half expected them to ignore it. Instead, you found your note missing by mid-afternoon. Gone. 

For a moment, you felt powerful. Maybe they’d actually listened.

Then 8:43 p.m. hit and someone in 3C scored a goal so loud you swore the bass from their TV made your candle flicker.

Alright. So it was personal now.

You stormed over to their door again, hands on your hips.. It wasn’t that late. You weren’t unreasonable. You believed in joy. In freedom. But right now? Rage was the only thing pumping through your system.

You shuffled down the hall with your bunny slippers slapping against the floor, hair in a claw clip that was giving up. You looked deranged. And for the first time, you were fine with that. You banged on their door.

The door cracked open a second later, revealing Jake blinking like a deer in headlights. His hair was messy. He looked mildly afraid.

“Were… we being loud again?”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Ya think?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. I’m so sorry. It’s Sunghoon. He keeps saying it’s not that loud and we were mid-tournament and—”

“Tell Sunghoon that his ego’s not the only thing echoing through these walls,” you snapped, arms crossed. “Some of us are trying to study.”

Behind Jake, you heard a familiar scoff followed by a smug voice yelling, “God, she’s so annoying. We were literally whispering.”

You leaned to the side, locking eyes with the third boy slouched on the couch, controller in hand, feet on the coffee table like the world owed him something. He didn’t even pause the game this time.

You didn’t know what it was about his stupidly symmetrical face but your blood boiled.

“Tell this Sunghoon guy…his whispering sounds like a screeching cat,” you said flatly, before spinning on your heel and marching back toward your door when you heard his aggravating voice.

“Tell her she’s overreacting over a couple of friends simply trying to have fun,” Sunghoon fired back from the couch, not even raising his voice. 

You turned your head just enough to glare over your shoulder. “Well, tell him, his shirt doesn’t match his fucking pants.”

Jake looked helpless, standing between you both like a middle child caught in a divorce.

And then, with that same bored tone, Sunghoon called out again, “Well, tell her… those slippers are the best thing she’s worn all week.”

You stopped.

Jake sucked in a breath.

You slowly turned, eyes narrowing. “Tell him he wouldn’t know good fashion if it came with a user manual and punched him in his freaking face.”

Sunghoon finally glanced away from the TV, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. His lips curved into the most irritating half-smile you’d ever seen.

“Tell her–”

Jake stepped in between again, hands raised. “Okay! Okay. We’re gonna turn the volume down. Like, way down. Like you can’t even hear us tiptoe. Right, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon leaned back against the couch and shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not the one annoying my neighbors at 9pm on a Friday night. Get some friends.” 

You slammed your door shut.

War was back on.

-

The next morning, your plan was simple. A little petty, sure, but necessary.

You stood outside their door in your pyjamas, holding a fresh pack of neon yellow Post-its since your previous ones were used up by the ongoing Post-It war.The hallway was empty. Your bunny slippers made no sound as you padded up to 3C and stuck the first one of the week dead-centre on the door.

“Dear 3C, just a gentle reminder that FIFA will not feed you, clothe you, or give you money. Kindly shut up. PLEASE. Warmest regards, 3B.”

You smiled to yourself and floated back to your apartment.

That night? For the first time…? Silence. Beautiful, blissful silence. You actually managed to revise two chapters and fall asleep before midnight. You woke up in the morning feeling like a changed woman.

But then you opened your front door.

There, taped neatly to your door, was a blue sticky note with surprisingly neat handwriting.

“Dear 3B, you sound like you narrate your life out loud. – 3C.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Narrate your life out loud?” you muttered. “That’s literally called thinking.”

You marched back into your apartment, flung open your stationery drawer.

“Dear 3C, apologies if my internal monologue disrupted your daily FIFA championship. I only talk to myself because your volume settings make it impossible to hear my own thoughts. With all due respect (and ear damage), 3B."

That afternoon, Jay knocked on your door. You hesitated, then opened it a crack. He was holding a bag of convenience store pancakes in one hand.

“Peace offering,” he said. “Also, I think your notes are hilarious. Jake’s been collecting them. I think he’s making a scrapbook.”

You blinked. “Is this a joke or something?”

Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe. “No! Honestly, it’s kinda refreshing.”

Jake popped his head in from behind, grinning. “Also, your handwriting’s really neat.”

You opened the door a little wider, cautious then shrugged. “You want some… uh… spaghetti? I made it this morning.”

“Spaghetti?” Jay tilted his head.

You nodded. “Yeah. I usually experiment with food. I’m…uh…in culinary school.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait, so you’re like… a chef?”

“Trying to be.,” you said with a shrug, suddenly a little self-conscious.

They exchanged a quick look before barging in like you'd personally handed them invites at the door.

“That’s so cool,” Jake said, practically bouncing as he flopped onto your beanbag. “I burnt instant noodles last week. Twice.”

Jay wandered deeper into your living room, his gaze landing on the dusty old guitar leaning against your bookshelf. “Dude, check it out! She plays the guitar.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, awkward. “It’s just for fun. I’m not that good.”

“I’m sure you’re great,” Jake said, already chewing through a mouthful of spaghetti he’d somehow found, and served himself in a bowl you didn’t remember offering.

You blinked at him. “Did you just—?”

“Plate was right there,” he said through a mouthful. “I took it as a sign.”

Jay nodded solemnly. “She feeds us and plays guitar. She’s better than Mrs. Kim already.”

You sighed and closed the door behind them. “I’m starting to think Mrs. Kim left because of the three of you.”

In between bites, Jake nodded without hesitation. “I think so too.”

“We can be loud,” Jay added, helping himself to another serving.

“Have you thought of… not being loud?”

“We do,” Jay said. “But then we get loud again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Guys, some of us have school and—”

“We have school too,” Jake chimed in, mouth full.

“Okay… some of us care about sleep.”

Jay perked up. “That’s why we got you this.”

He dug into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a tiny box, dropping it into your hands.

You squinted at it. “What’s this?”

“They’re sleep buds,” he said proudly. “They go in your ears and play white noise and, like… ocean sounds or something. Blocks everything out. Even us.”

You stared at the box, then at them.

“Instead of compromising, you got me gear?”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. We like you. We want you to be able to sleep… through us.”

Jay gave you a thumbs-up. “It’s called adaptation.”

You looked down at the sleep buds in your hands and then back up at the two of them absolutely inhaling your spaghetti like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

You didn’t know whether to kick them out or thank them.

So you just sighed, defeated. “You guys are the weirdest neighbours I’ve ever had.”

Jake beamed. “Aww. You’re the weirdest too.”

And somehow… the next day… they were back.

You opened the door mid-knock, confused, only to find Jay grinning at you.

“What’s for lunch today, boss?” he asked, already halfway through the doorway.

You blinked. “How’d you know I made something?”

“We could smell it,” Jake said, stepping in right behind him, holding up a comically large spoon. “Smells so good. Brought my big spoon today. Came prepared.”

“Uh… I made chowder?”

Jake’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I love chowder.”

Jay had already plopped onto the floor cushion, flipping through your Spotify like he owned your iPad. “What kind? Clam? Corn? Pumpkin? Wait… do people put pumpkin in chowder?”

You stared at them, ladle in hand.

“Corn,” you muttered, shuffling back into the kitchen.

Then the day after that… they came again. At this point, it felt less like a surprise and more like a recurring appointment.

“No fucking way. Kimchi stew? This shit is so good!. Jay, you need to try the beef. It’s so soft. How— how’d you get it so soft? Is this like one of those expensive beef? Wakoo?”

“It’s Wagyu, Jake.” You corrected.

“Wagyu~” He sang.

Jay, already mid-bite, nodded with a full mouth. “Can I havefth thefth reshepee?”

You wiped your hands on a dish towel, leaning against the counter with one brow raised. “Do you guys ever eat in your own apartment?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Not when you cook like this.”

Jay pointed his chopsticks at you like he was making a closing argument in court. “This is technically your fault. You fed us once. That’s basically a binding contract. We’re best friends now. Aren’t we, Jake?”

Jake nodded, mouth full. “Mhmff. Whatever he said.”

You sighed, setting your elbow on the table and dropping your chin into your hand. “If you’re gonna keep doing this, at least wash the dishes after.”

Jake saluted you with his spoon like you were the captain of a very tiny, soup-based army. “Yes, chef.”

You looked at the two of them, one already on his third helping, the other stealing more beef straight from the pot, and shook your head.

This wasn’t how your independent, put-together, college life was supposed to go. You were meant to be focused. The mysterious girl on the third floor who only ever came out for groceries and exams.

But maybe… with the two of them barging in uninvited, eating like they hadn’t seen food in years, and treating your living room like it was theirs…

Maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely after all.

-

It was 9 p.m. Strangely quiet.

Usually, by now, there’d be at least one goal celebration shaking the walls or someone shouting about a missed penalty. But tonight? Nothing. You didn’t let it bother you. You took it as a win.

The balcony door slid open with a soft scrape. You stepped out into the cool night, cradling your little scissors and spray bottle like sacred tools. Your succulents were arranged in a neat line. A few leaves had started to curl. You knelt down, snipping the dead ends carefully.

You should’ve felt peaceful.

But tonight, something tugged at your chest. 

You missed Jungwon. You missed your mom’s mismatched cutlery and the way your dad always forgot he’d already asked about your grades. Maybe even your pet fish, the one that never did much except float around looking confused.

Jay and Jake were friendly, sure. But they weren’t yours. They weren’t part of your before. They didn’t know the town you came from or the versions of you that existed before now.

And even though you thought you’d settled in... even though you were coping...you were lonely.

Without meaning to, you started speaking out loud — just like you always did.

“It’s fine. You’ll do better tomorrow. Tomorrow you won’t feel as lonely,” you said softly as you misted the leaves. “You’ll be stronger. You’re gonna get used to this. You can do it.”

But the lie caught in your throat.

Because you were crying already.

You wiped your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, frustrated, betrayed by your own body. You reached for your phone without thinking and hit the contact you swore you wouldn’t keep calling every time you got overwhelmed.

Jungwon answered on the first ring.

“What’s up?” he asked, casual as ever.

“Won…” you breathed out.

There was a pause. Then: “Are you crying?”

“No?”

“I can hear you sniffling, you shit.”

“It’s just—” your voice cracked. “It’s hard. I’m alone all the time. I’ve got no friends. I’ve got no one to talk to. I’m alone, Won.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I know…”

There was a pause. You could hear him shifting in bed, his voice soft and serious now. “But think about it this way, okay? You’re barely in your first month. You’re gonna get used to it. You’re gonna find people. You’re gonna build something here. It just takes time.”

You bit your lip. “You’ll visit if you can, right?”

“I’ll visit,” he promised. “Even if it takes two bloody hours.”

“But you hate traveling.”

“For you, I’d suffer.”

You sniffled. “You’re just saying that so I’ll hang up.”

“You’re right because I’m exhausted from basketball. But also… I love you.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “I love you too.”

“Chin up. You’re talented and you deserve to be there. You can do this. We’re all counting on you.”

“I know.” You exhaled slowly. “Goodnight, Wonnie.”

“Night.”

You ended the call and sat in silence for a moment, letting the cool night air settle on your skin. The tears had stopped. Your hands still smelled like mint and basil and the faint sweetness of the spray bottle. You stared at your succulents, wondering if they ever got lonely too.

Unbeknownst to you, just a few feet away, out on the connected balcony, hidden by the divider, someone had heard everything.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d stepped out earlier, just needing air, needing quiet, needing to be somewhere still for once. And then he’d heard your voice. The words that were not meant for anyone else.

And for the first time, Sunghoon didn’t roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.

He just stood there in the dark, one hand gripping the railing, heart a little heavier than before.

He understood more than you thought.

And somewhere between your tears and Jungwon’s voice, he changed his mind about you.

-

The next few days, there was absolute silence. Maybe the food had finally worked some psychological warfare on Jay and Jake. Maybe it was their way of returning the favour. Either way, you weren’t about to question it.

You were grateful, to say the least.

Because for the past week, you’d been moping around your apartment. Living alone and striking out as an “independent bachelorette” sounded empowering in theory, but in practice? Maybe you weren’t one of those girlies after all…y’know the ones on Instagram who made solitude look like a season of self-discovery instead of a series of breakdowns.

It was Saturday. You’d spent the entire morning in bed watching a Netflix documentary about some guy swindling people on Tinder, surrounded by crumpled tissue and scented candle smoke that had long turned suffocating. You were still in yesterday’s hoodie, blanket tangled around your legs.

Three knocks echoed at the door.

You lifted your head from the pillow with a groan, barely alive. The sound came again.

Dragging yourself across the living room, you cracked the door open just a sliver, just wide enough to peek through but not enough to reveal the disaster that was your face, your hair, or your pride.

“Uh.” The voice was hesitant. Familiar.

You squinted.

Sunghoon.

You blinked. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice hoarse from crying and a full night of narrating your own spiral.

“There was a mix-up with the mail,” he said, holding up a small stack of envelopes.

“Oh.” You extended your arm awkwardly through the tiny gap in the door and grabbed the letters. “Thanks.”

There was a pause, “I can see your puffy eyes through the gap.”

You scoffed, immediately pulling the door closer. “You just have to be a smartass about everything, don’t you?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Still standing there. 

“…Are Jake and Jay home?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

His expression twitched, almost amused. “Why? Trying to steal my best friends again or—”

“No,” you deadpanned. “I was just wondering. It’s been… quiet this whole week.”

“They went home to visit their families.”

Oh. Right. Come to think of it, maybe that explained why everything felt extra heavy lately. It was the time of year people usually went home. People surrounded themselves with comfort and familiarity. And here you were, stuck in the city because the train ticket home was just slightly out of budget.

“You didn’t go?” you asked softly.

“Can’t,” he shrugged.

“Oh.”

There was a beat of silence. Then he tilted his head.

“Well,” Sunghoon said slowly, “if you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”

The words came with the usual venom but the message behind them landed differently.

You stared at him through the gap in the door. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny, or… sincere, in his own weird, backhanded way. It was strange. You’d only had  three full conversations with the guy. And every single one ended in a WWE tournament.

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Are you… being nice to me?”

He clicked his tongue. “Don’t ruin it.”

And with that, he turned and walked back.

-

You finally got up.

There was no movie-worthy breakthrough moment. Just the dull ache in your head from crying too much and the feeling that if you shed one more tear, your eyeballs might actually eject themselves from their sockets. So you moved. You stripped your bed, tossed the mountain of tissues into a trash bag, sprayed half a bottle of disinfectant in the air, and opened every window.

Your apartment looked like it had survived an apocalypse, which, to be fair, was accurate. But you scrubbed it back to life.

By the time you were in the kitchen, your eyes were still a little swollen, but you’d pressed them with cool spoons and a sad little compress until you could see straight again. Kind of.

You pulled out ingredients from your fridge one by one, lining them up like you were preparing for war. Slicing, boiling, julienning, stir-frying. The sound of the pan crackling beneath the glass noodles filled the silence of your apartment. It smelled exactly like it did when your mom used to make it.

You plated it in a wide, shallow bowl. It was delicious. Of course it was. You took pride in it. You always had. Jungwon used to tease you, calling your hands “blessed by Gordon Ramsay” like everything you touched turned into comfort food. You’d swat his arm, trying not to smile as he reached for second helpings before you’d even sat down.

You missed him. You missed your family. You missed not having to eat alone on a day like this.

Your eyes drifted to the door.

Would it be stupid? To bring food to Sunghoon? You’d never really done anything kind for him. Most of your interactions were lined with sarcasm and insults. And yet… that one line of his kept replaying in your head, “If you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”

So maybe…maybe he meant it. Or maybe you were just desperate for company and your noodles were starting to get cold.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you packed the noodles into a clean container, wrapped a rubber band around it, and found yourself standing in front of 3C. Your feet had walked you here without permission. Your hand hovered in the air, ready to knock, but now… you hesitated. You weren’t here to complain. You weren’t here to yell. And that made it harder.

And just before your knuckles could land on the door, it swung open.

Sunghoon stood in front of you, coat already on, scarf looped lazily around his neck. There was a little shine to his hair like he’d styled it, and he looked surprised, mildly confused to find you on his doorstep without any anger evident in your eyes.

“What?” he said, voice dry.

You blinked, staring at him. You’d never really looked at him properly before. Not when he was this put-together. The gel in his hair, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scarf sat slightly off-center like he’d thrown it on in a rush. You knew he was attractive. You weren’t blind. But seeing him now?

Sunghoon was actually… pretty handsome.

“I—uh—” you stammered.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Spit it out.”

“I—uh—I made some… stir-fried glass noodles,” you said, stumbling over every syllable. “And I know how much it sucks being alone on a day like this, so I thought… maybe it’d bring you some kind of familiarity. From home, or something.”

You didn’t let yourself overthink it. You shoved the container into his hands, heart pounding.

“Bye,” you mumbled, before immediately turning around and marching back to your apartment like you’d just robbed a bank. The door clicked shut behind you.

You pressed your back to it, eyes wide.

Shit.

Was Sunghoon actually hot?

-

Sunghoon stood in the hallway, unmoving. The container in his hands was warm and he stared down at it for a couple of seconds longer than he probably should’ve.

Jake and Jay had been raving about your cooking for weeks. At first, he thought they were exaggerating. How good could someone’s food be that it made two of the loudest people he knew voluntarily whisper through a FIFA match?

But he’d seen it with his own eyes, Jake silently fist-pumping the air, mouthing “LET’S FUCKING GO” after a goal, and Jay barely reacting as he scored. They even created a rule: first one to speak puts a dollar in the Silence Jar. A literal jar. With money.

Sunghoon didn’t get it.

And he didn’t particularly care to. Not then.

But now, standing in the hallway in his coat and scarf, staring at the gift you shoved into his hands with flushed cheeks, something felt different.

He had been on his way out, actually. There was a bar nearby, nothing special, just a dim-lit spot with quiet music and decent food where no one bothered him. He usually went there whenever Jay and Jake went back home, like they did this time every year. It wasn’t that he didn’t have family—he did. It just wasn’t… warm. They were always busy. Always somewhere else, even when they were in the same room.

He peeled off his scarf, feet dragging a little as he headed back into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. He set the container on the kitchen counter, grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the drawer, and opened the lid.

Steam wafted up instantly, sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, something subtly sweet he couldn’t name. The noodles glistened. They looked homemade. No, they felt homemade.

He picked up a strand and gave it a tentative taste.

His eyes widened before he could even help it.

It was good. Like stupid good. Like how the hell is this girl not running her own restaurant kind of good. Better than anything he would’ve paid for at that bar tonight.

He stood there in silence, chopsticks hovering mid-air, thinking back.

He wasn’t proud of how he’d treated you. Three encounters, three arguments. He remembered each one too clearly. The snark in his voice. The way your expression hardened. The notes on the door. 

But it wasn’t really about you.

He hated being called out. Hated being the problem. Maybe it was ego, or maybe it was the way he’d always felt like he had to be put-together or to say the least…controlled. Your presence threw him off. You were loud in a way that was sincere. You didn’t filter your emotions. You wore your annoyance on your sleeve and your feelings on your face.

It irritated him. It also… made him feel something.

And then there was that night on the balcony.

He hadn’t meant to listen. But when he heard your voice cracking through the divider, talking to someone…maybe it was your boyfriend? Your best friend? Whoever it was about how lonely you were, it hit him harder than it should’ve.

Because he got it.

He felt it too.

Being alone in a crowd. Having people around but never really with you. That weight in your chest that didn’t come from sadness exactly…just the absence of warmth.

Sunghoon felt it more often than he cared to admit. He loved Jake and Jay, loved them to pieces. They were the kind of people who filled a room with noise and an energy he couldn’t really place and who made him laugh even when he didn’t want to.

He wanted something more. Something real.

Someone who just… saw him.

He sat at his kitchen counter, staring at the container of glass noodles still warm with steam curling from the lid. He wasn’t usually impulsive. He didn’t do gestures. But maybe tonight called for something a little uncharacteristic.

He stood and reached up, opening the top cupboard where Jake and Jay kept what they called their “emergency date plates.”. The kind of plates you used to impress someone. They only ever brought them out when trying to convince girls they were not, in fact, living in a borderline condemned apartment flat.

He grabbed two.

And then, before he could second guess it, he walked out into the hallway and knocked. 

Your door creaked open a few seconds later.

You blinked at him, confused. “What?”

It almost felt like deja vu. Except now, he was you…awkward at the door.

And then it hit him.

He looked at you…like, really looked at you, and for the first time, he realised he’d never actually seen you before. 

You were wearing a soft pink sleeveless dress, the fabric loose and falling just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist. Your hair was tied into a side braid, fringe swept slightly to the side, with a few delicate strands left loose to frame your face. You looked like you belonged in a pastel painting.

Shit.

Were you actually—pretty?

Nope. Nope. Stop that. Sunghoon blinked hard, trying to erase the thought.

Damn it.

You probably had a boyfriend. Someone smart and warm and emotionally available who FaceTimed you every night and wrote you good morning texts. Someone who missed you from back home.

And besides…someone who could cook like you? You could probably bag Jake and Jay at the same time in under a minute if you wanted. Not that you would. But still.

He cleared his throat.

“I, uh…” He held up the plates slightly. “I thought maybe… you could join me?”

He wasn’t good at this. But his voice was steady.

“Only if you want to,” he added, quickly. “I just figured. Y’know. Glass noodles taste better on… plates that aren’t plastic.”

His eyes met yours.

He was trying.

And this time, it was your turn to blink in disbelief.

-

Sunghoon had returned with the container of glass noodles, now a little colder, a little stickier, but still giving off the faint aroma of sesame oil and soy sauce. You’d reheated it and plated it up, slightly embarrassed that the presentation wasn’t what it had been fresh off the stove, but he didn’t seem to care. Or maybe he did, but you couldn’t tell, because for the first five minutes, you didn’t look at each other.

The clink of chopsticks, the occasional scrape of ceramic, and your ceiling fan. It was awkward. You wondered why he even came. Why he asked in the first place, if he was just going to eat in silence.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he said.

You paused.

“You first.”

“No, you—”

“Okay, I’ll go first,” he said, cutting himself off. He cleared his throat and set his chopsticks down. “I—uh—I just wanted to say thanks. For the meal.”

You blinked. “Okay.” You nodded slowly. “You’re… shockingly formal when you’re not pissed.”

“I—” Sunghoon let out a breath and leaned back a little in the chair. “I was never pissed.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

“I was annoyed, sure. Who likes being called out?”

“I wasn’t trying to call you out,” you said, tilting your head. “But put yourself in my shoes. I have to wake up at stupid o’clock to learn how to make a soufflé or whatever, and meanwhile, I’m treated to surround sound yelling and the occasional ceiling vibration.”

He gave a small shrug. “Well, we haven’t done it in a while.”

“And I’m grateful,” you replied, lips twitching. “Truly.”

“We got a silence jar and everything,” he muttered, almost like he didn’t want to admit it.

Your eyebrows shot up. “A silence jar?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Jay implemented it. He said if we keep it up, we’ll have enough for extra toppings on our next pizza night.”

You burst into laughter, the sound surprising even yourself. It came out light and real, and you covered your mouth halfway through. “That’s… honestly? A decent plan.”

“It can be,” he said with a grin starting to pull at the corner of his mouth. “Until everyone starts trying to play FIFA like it’s an ASMR video.”

“You guys actually whisper?” you asked, incredulous.

“Well, yeah. You told us to.”

“I didn’t think you would listen,” you said, pointing your chopsticks at him.

Sunghoon shrugged again, his eyes dropping to the plate in front of him. “Well… they changed my mind, so.”

He didn’t say what he was really thinking.

That it wasn’t Jake or Jay who changed his mind. It was that night. The way your voice had carried through the gap in the balcony, fragile and cracking. The way you’d said I’m alone, Won like it was something that had been sitting inside you for too long, waiting to spill. He’d realised then maybe he wasn’t just an annoying neighbour to you. Maybe he was part of the problem. Maybe he’d been making things harder for someone who was already trying to hold it all together.

“So…” he said quietly, eyes on his plate, “why are you alone during the holidays anyway?”

“Couldn’t afford a train ticket,” you said eventually. “I mean—I could have, technically. But that’d mean I wouldn’t have enough money left to buy ingredients for my assignments the next few weeks.”

Sunghoon winced. “Oof. That’s rough. Must suck.”

You gave a little shrug. “Yeah. It’s fine though.”

He knew it wasn’t.

There was a pause. He glanced sideways at you.

“If you ever… feel like you need someone to talk to,” he started, voice casual, “you could just knock. I have FIFA.”

You snorted. “Oh, like I’d willingly join that mess.”

“It’s actually really fun.”

“How fun can flinging a ball across a screen with your thumbs be?”

“It is!” he defended, turning fully toward you.

You raised a brow. “I tried once with my friend and it was so boring.”

“That’s ‘cause you weren’t playing it right,” he insisted, already standing up. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

“I’m not playing FIFA with you.”

“Come onnn,” he whined, grabbing your wrist and tugging you lightly toward his door.

“God, this is gonna be so stupid,” you muttered, dragging your feet even as you followed him out.

Inside his apartment, the lights were warm, the couch sunken in like it had been through a war. You sat reluctantly, tucking your knees up as he handed you the controller.

“Alright,” he said, sliding in beside you. “This is you—Team Two. All you have to do is use the left joystick to move, the right one to look around. This button to pass, this one to shoot.”

You blinked. “So many buttons.”

“It’s easy! Just follow what I say.”

“Okay… so now I just—?” You pressed a button and immediately kicked the ball out of bounds.

“No, no—move left. Left.”

“I am moving left!”

He glanced over. Your tongue was sticking out slightly in concentration, eyes squinted, brows furrowed. He chuckled before he could stop himself, quickly looking away.

Then you screamed, “I DID IT! DID I DO IT?!”

He turned back just in time to see you score.

Sunghoon yelled, jumping up. “Yeah! That was it!”

You stared at the screen, jaw dropping. “Holy shit. I’m amazing.”

He looked at you again, this time longer. Your eyes were glowing, still locked on the TV. Your fingers tapped at the buttons like you already got it down. You bit your lip when you were focused, tongue sticking out just slightly when you were thinking.

And you were cute. So fucking cute.

The match picked up pace. Suddenly it was 2–2, and both of you were leaning in like your lives depended on it. You were yelling at the controller. He was shouting advice. At one point, your knees knocked, but neither of you noticed. The room was loud, just your voices and the music from the game and the way your laughter filled every corner of his flat.

Then it happened.

You scored. 

You screamed, controller tossed onto the couch, and before Sunghoon could register what was happening, your arms were around his neck, squeezing him tight as you jumped slightly in place.

“I WON! DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

He froze. Your cheek brushed his jaw, your warmth right up against him. His hands hovered midair like he didn’t know whether to hold you back or not.

And then you let go, plopped back onto the couch, and grabbed the controller again like nothing had happened.

Sunghoon didn’t move.

For the first time in what felt like forever, his heartbeat stuttered. Sped up like it had been woken from a long, indifferent sleep.

He sat there, silent, staring at you as you shouted at your pixelated team.

And all he could think was well that…he hadn’t planned on crushing on the new girl based on one single positive interaction.

God, he was so screwed.

-

The next few days passed in a blur of almost-conversations.

You and Sunghoon didn’t talk much. Not like that night. Just a few polite waves across the hallway, a quiet “hey” if you caught the elevator at the same time. Respectful nods. The occasional awkward glance if your eyes met for too long.

And then Jake and Jay came back.

And of course, Jake being Jake, invited himself into your apartment before you could even say no.

“I missed your cooking while I was gone,” he sighed dramatically, sinking into the dining chair like he’d returned from war.

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” you said, flipping through your assignment folder and squinting at the week’s task. “Because for today’s assignment, I’m supposed to…” you paused. “Make a really mean chicken pot pie.”

Jake’s eyes lit up. He clapped his hands, nearly tipping his chair over. “CHICKEN POT PIE?!”

Before you could even blink, he leapt up, yanked your door open, and sprinted into the hallway.

“JAY! IT’S CHICKEN POT PIE!” he yelled like it was a fire drill.

From across the hall, Jay’s voice rang out. “WHAT?! NO WAY!”

And then—another voice joined them.

A quieter one.

“Chicken pot pie?”

You didn’t even have time to react before you were suddenly hosting three grown men in your kitchen, all leaning over your counter.

“Guys,” you said, elbow-deep in flour. “I can’t focus if you’re all staring at me like that.”

“We’re just excited,” Jake grinned, chin in his hands.

“Well don’t be. I’ve never made this before. It might taste like ass.”

“Your hands are basically blessed by Gordon Ramsay,” Jay declared, grabbing a slice of carrot from the cutting board. “It’s impossible for it to taste like ass.”

You laughed, the sound soft and unexpected even to yourself. “Jungwon used to tell me that all the time.”

“Oh he did?” Jay echoed, voice teasing.

Sunghoon stood a few steps back from the others, arms crossed loosely, leaning against your fridge. He hadn’t said much since stepping into your place, but now he watched the three of you.

The way you smiled when Jay made a joke. The way Jake knew where you kept your mixing bowls. The way your eyes sparkled, just slightly, when you laughed about something from home. The way they got it. The way they knew you.

And the way he didn’t.

Sunghoon couldn’t explain it but it made his stomach twist. Tight and strange and uncomfortable.

And then he heard it again.

Jungwon.

Who the hell was Jungwon?

His name sounded too casual. Too affectionate. The kind of name you didn’t just drop without meaning.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He just looked down at your countertop, at the flour dusting your hands and the delicate way your fingers shaped the crust, and all he could think was—

Why the fuck did he care so much?

You moved around your kitchen with the kind of ease that made it impossible not to watch. Sunghoon’s eyes were locked on you, the way your hair swayed behind your back as you leaned forward to stir something in the pot, the way your sleeves were pushed up. 

His heart pounded harder than it should’ve. He tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just hungry. Maybe it was just the smell of garlic and butter making him lightheaded. That had to be it, right?

Except no.

He hadn’t planned on feeling like this today. Not when he woke up. Not when he brushed his teeth and went on his phone and told himself he’d stay in his apartment. He hadn’t even planned on coming over. And that night the two of you shared noodles? He’d chalked it up to vulnerability. Nighttime feelings. Nothing serious.

But now it was noon. He was awake. Sober. And you were still somehow making his chest tighten just by existing within ten feet of him.

God. He hated having a crush.

He didn’t even realise how lost he looked until Jake spoke up from the side, breaking the spell.

“So, is Jungwon finally coming?”

This guy again.

Sunghoon’s head whipped toward Jake so fast it might’ve snapped his neck.

You perked up at the mention, a smile blooming across your face without even trying. “Yeah! He’s coming in two weeks! I actually told him about you guys. He’s kinda excited to meet you.”

That smile. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t forced. You looked like someone who meant it. Someone who missed this guy. Someone who talked to him often.

Sunghoon clenched his jaw and looked away, grabbing a water bottle off your counter just to do something with his hands. He twisted the cap a little too hard.

He didn’t know who the hell Jungwon was.

But he already didn’t like him.

“He’s coming over?” Jay asked, his mouth still half-full of pie filling.

“Yeah,” you said casually, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you peeked into the oven. “He’s staying at my place for the week he’s here.”

Staying at your place?

Sunghoon blinked.

He looked around your apartment, eyes scanning every corner like they were going to magically reveal a hidden guest room. But there wasn’t one. You lived in a studio. Everything was in one space. Your bed, your desk, your kitchen, your couch. Except… there wasn’t even a real couch. Just a throw-covered loveseat that barely seated two.

No air mattress in sight. No hidden folding cot. No suspicious lumpy bags that might hold a spare futon.

Just one bed.

His chest tightened.

Where the hell was Jungwon gonna sleep? With you?

He picked at the label on his water bottle, teeth grinding quietly as he stared down at the floor, like it held answers. It didn’t.

He wasn’t even involved with you. This shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t bother him.

But it did. In the most uncomfortable, teeth-clenching, mind-racing kind of way.

-

You stood in front of the three boys, arms crossed, heart racing slightly under your apron. The chicken pot pie sat on the table…golden brown crust, just the right amount of bubbling over on the sides, the smell of thyme and butter and garlic filling your apartment.

Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon each took a spoonful at the same time like they’d rehearsed it. You watched them, nervous, scanning their faces.

One by one, their expressions lit up. Jake’s eyes widened, Jay let out a satisfied groan. Well… except Sunghoon. Of course.

He stayed still. Always unreadable. But you caught it. The tiny pause, the way his brows lifted just a fraction. He liked it. He just didn’t show it like the others.

“So—” Jake started.

“Good,” Jay finished, already reaching for more.

Your eyes flicked to Sunghoon. Somehow, his opinion was the one you were waiting on. The one you needed.

“So?” you asked, staring at him.

He blinked. “What?”

“How is it?”

“It’s good,” he said, nodding once, tone flat as ever.

Your smile dropped. You frowned. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“What? I just said it’s good.”

“No, you said ‘good’ and then frowned and put your spoon down. Usually it’s ‘It’s good,’ then a second bite. Right, boys?”

Jake nodded enthusiastically, chicken still in his mouth. “She’s right.”

“Totally right,” Jay added, already helping himself to more.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, leaning back slightly. “You’re all being dramatic.”

You scoffed, insulted. “I guess you don’t want seconds then. Tch.”

You clicked your tongue and turned on your heel, storming off toward the kitchen, grumbling under your breath. Your apron fluttered behind you as you moved, and you didn’t look back.

Sunghoon watched your little pout, the way your shoulders stiffened, how you exaggerated every step. He didn’t know why, but he liked your reaction. No, he loved it. He found it ridiculously cute. Too cute, actually. That slight wrinkle in your forehead. The way your voice got higher when you were mad. The tiny stomp in your step.

The moment your back turned, his lips twitched upward. 

When lunch ended and the three of them stood by your front door, Jake and Jay turned to hug you dramatically.

“Never move out,” Jake said into your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just saying that because you get free food.”

“And precisely why we don’t want you to move out,” Jay replied, squeezing you once more before the two of them shuffled out, bickering as they made their way into their apartment across the hall.

Sunghoon lingered. Just behind you.

You turned, raising a brow. “Aren’t you leaving?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He stepped back slowly, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking to the floor before settling back on you. Then he paused. Like he wasn’t sure if he should say what he was about to say.

“The chicken pot pie was good. I think…” he exhaled, voice quieter, “I think it was one of the best things I’ve ever had.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“It reminded me of home,” he added, eyes still on you now, a little softer than usual. “Not in the way where it’s about the taste or anything… it’s just… you cook like home. If that makes any sense.”

You hadn’t expected that.

Your cheeks flushed immediately. You turned away before he could see it, pretending to fiddle with a dish on the counter, fingers uselessly adjusting an already-clean plate.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice low, almost shy.

He lingered for a second longer like he wanted to say more. Then he gave a quiet nod and walked out the door.

-

It was raining.

It was only 4 p.m., but the sky had turned an eerie charcoal grey, clouds rolling thick above the city. Thunder cracked so loud you felt it in your chest, and the wind howled between the buildings, slamming against your windows.

You hated this.

You hated how much you still feared storms even at your age. How useless independence felt when you were stuffing tissues in your ears and jamming earmuffs over your head like you were five again. You turned on every single light in your apartment, lamps, fairy lights, even your microwave light and cocooned yourself under your thickest blanket, barely breathing, eyes wide.

Then the whole building shuddered.

The lights flickered.

And then everything went dark.

You screamed.

Your apartment disappeared into a blanket of pitch black, shadows curling up the walls like ink. Your heart pounded. You scrambled up from the couch, tearing off your earmuffs and patting the walls with shaky hands, trying to find a light switch like that would fix anything.

“Shit,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Shit shit shit.”

You fumbled for your phone. A message popped up from your landlord.

“The building is experiencing a temporary blackout due to the storm. Electricity should resume in an hour. Thank you for your patience.”

An hour? Alone? In this? In the dark? Absolutely fucking not.

You jumped at another violent crack of thunder and instantly rushed out into the hallway. Your blanket trailed behind you like a cape. You beelined for the only door you knew.

You knocked. The door swung open almost immediately.

“No time to explain but I’m shitting bricks here,” you said all at once.

It wasn’t Jake or Jay.

It was Sunghoon.

His brows raised. “The thunderstorm?”

You nodded frantically. “Are Jake or Jay here?”

“They’re asleep.” He glanced behind him, then back at you. “But I could… stay with you. If you want. Until it passes.”

You hesitated.

Then thunder cracked again, louder this time, right above your building.

You flinched. “Okay,” you breathed, defeated.

The two of you sat cross-legged on your couch, sharing a single candle as your only source of light. It flickered between you, casting long, warm shadows on the walls.

“Seems like you’re scared of the thunder,” he said gently.

“Well,” you sighed, voice tight. “I’ve been scared of it since I was younger. It just… gets to me.”

He nodded. “It’s okay.”

You noticed it then…the subtle tremble in his shoulders. He was shivering. From the cold, probably. Your heater wasn’t working without electricity, and the apartment was steadily turning into a fridge. You were wrapped up like a burrito, but he’d come in without anything but a hoodie.

Feeling guilty, you shifted toward him and lifted one side of your blanket.

“Uh…” he looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he was being pranked.

“Relax. I can see you shivering like a dog,” you muttered.

“Oh.” He blinked, then grabbed the other end of the blanket and scooted in beside you.

Now under the same blanket, his body heat pressed faintly against yours. You sat side by side, knees pulled to your chests.

And then, in a whisper, he said, “You know…”

You looked over at him, startled by the sudden softness in his voice.

“I know I’m not as close to you as Jay and Jake are,” he said, eyes trained on the candle, “but… you don’t always have to find them for help.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“I’m saying…” he sighed, eyes flicking up toward you, and then away again. “Never mind.”

“No, what? Just spit it out.”

He exhaled through his nose like it physically hurt to get the words out. “I’m just saying… you could ask me for help too.”

You stared at him, your eyes adjusting to the candlelight flickering between you.

“Oh,” you said softly.

There was a beat of silence. You weren’t really sure what to do with that. But you didn’t want to leave it hanging either.

“I’ll be sure to think of you the next time,” you mumbled, barely louder than the rain still pelting the windows outside.

You felt him nod beside you.

You turned your head slowly, resting your cheek against your knees, eyes drifting toward him. His face was tilted down, lashes long and dark as they blinked now and then, just slow enough for you to notice. His jaw had softened a little. He looked calm, in a way you weren’t used to seeing him.

“Would you rather have a million dollars,” you said suddenly, “or have no problems in the world?”

He blinked, confused for a second, then turned his head toward you. His chin was on his knees now too, and with the two of you curled up in the same blanket, inches apart, it felt almost like whispering under covers at a sleepover.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A good one,” you replied, lips twitching. “So answer it.”

He scoffed a little under his breath. “Uh… maybe no problems in the world?”

“Smart answer. Why?”

He paused, “I think people ruin themselves trying to solve problems that shouldn’t be theirs. If I had no problems, maybe I wouldn’t waste time worrying about all the stuff that doesn’t matter.”

You blinked at him. That was… not the answer you were expecting. It was a good one. Way too good, actually.

“Right,” you said softly, giving him a small nod.

He looked at you for a second longer before his eyes flicked down. “Your turn. Would you rather go back in time or go into the future?”

You puffed your cheeks out, thinking. “Hmm… that’s a toughie.”

Then your eyes widened, the way they always did when you had a lightbulb moment. “Go back in time!”

“Why’s that?”

“So maybe I’d really weigh the pros and cons of moving to a city where I know no one,” you said with a grin, but it faded slightly at the end.

Sunghoon stayed quiet. 

“You must really feel alone,” he said.

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“I hear you talking about it sometimes. On your balcony. When you think no one’s listening. You talk about how moving here feels like a mistake.”

You looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not a mistake. I just… miss everything back home.”

“I get it,” he said after a second. “I was like you. Back when I was home, I wanted to leave so badly. Thought being somewhere else would fix everything. But now that I’m here… yeah, I have Jay and Jake, and they’re great, but sometimes I come back to the apartment and everything’s fine and normal and still—I just feel… empty. And I don’t even know why.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time.

You just watched him. His face had turned thoughtful, distant. His eyes unfocused, drifting somewhere past the flickering candle, past your walls, like he was staring right through the quiet that lived in his chest.

You mumbled, “Well, yeah. But… I also don’t regret it. Not one bit.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I mean—I’m here doing what I love. Not many people get to do that. And I made friends with three incredibly annoying people in this building.”

He turned toward you again, eyes narrowing playfully. “So we’re friends now?”

Your cheeks heated up instantly. You glanced away, pretending to roll your eyes. “Are we not?”

He let out a low chuckle, the kind that rumbled softly at the back of his throat. “I’m glad you think we are.”

“So,” you said, tilting your head, “does this mean you’ll finally be nice to me now? Or is that too much character development for one night?”

Sunghoon smirked, eyes flicking to you with a teasing glint. “You want nice? From me?”

“Yeah. Like a full sentence without sarcasm. I feel like that’s a reward I’ve earned by now.”

“You earned a participation medal at best.”

You laughed, nudging him with your knee. “Unbelievable.”

He was already looking at you again—closer this time.

“Hold on,” he said softly, “you have an eyelash on your cheek.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Before you could move, he leaned in.

His face hovered inches from yours as his thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch soft but sure. The pads of his fingers were warm. His eyes, now impossibly close, scanned your face with a kind of quiet focus you hadn’t felt from him before. You swallowed.

Neither of you moved.

Your gaze locked, and the space between you slowly disappeared…inch by inch, breath by breath. It wasn’t planned. It just… happened.

Then suddenly, his lips were on yours.

Then it deepened. His other hand pushed the blanket off his head, dropping behind your neck to pull you in, and your hands found their way to his thighs, then to the curve of his jaw. His lips parted just enough, and your pulse jumped as he moved against you.

His hands slid to your waist. He lifted you slightly and shifted you into his lap in one smooth motion. You were now straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he didn’t stop kissing you, not even for a second.

The kiss grew stronger. He tilted his head, hand moving to your chin to pull you even closer, his mouth parting yours with a low inhale as his tongue brushed against yours.

Your hands moved back down, gripping at the soft cotton of his hoodie, when—

Click.

The lights flickered on.

You both froze.

Your faces were still inches apart. 

You slowly pulled back, still on his lap. He blinked, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure what just happened. Like part of him wanted to keep going, and the other part… couldn’t believe you just kissed him like that.

You stared at each other, the silence heavy now.

His hands were still resting lightly on your waist. Yours were still fisted in the fabric of his hoodie. Both of you breathless. 

“I need to go back home,” Sunghoon said suddenly, voice low but rushed. His eyes darted everywhere except at you.

You blinked. “Right. Of course!” you said quickly, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. No—totally.”

He shifted awkwardly underneath you, face flushing as he cleared his throat and muttered, “Probably… need a pillow or something.”

It took you a second.

Then you saw the way he was subtly covering his lap with the edge of the blanket.

“Oh.” Your voice came out small. You quickly scrambled off his lap, cheeks burning so hot they could’ve powered your apartment during the blackout.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, already halfway to your door.

And then, Sunghoon stormed out of your apartment.

-

It had been a couple of days since you last properly spoke to Sunghoon. Not for lack of trying. You had…more than once. But each time, he’d give you a quick nod, maybe a polite smile if you were lucky, before promptly power-walking away.

Maybe he just wasn’t feeling what you were feeling. Maybe that kiss was a fluke, something in the heat of the moment. Maybe your little new crush was painfully one-sided.

But you pushed it aside. You had bigger things to focus on.

Jungwon was coming today.

You’d spent the entire morning rearranging your apartment, cleaning it from top to bottom, fluffing cushions and spraying perfume not just on yourself but into the air like it could somehow mask how nervous you were. You even did your hair the way he liked it, soft curls and a side part.

And then, there he was.

The door swung open and your best friend stood in the hallway, suitcase in hand and a grin already on his face.

“WON!” you squealed, running up to him and leaping into his arms.

“Hello, idiot,” he said, his voice fond as he hugged you back, lifting you off the ground with ease.

The shout must’ve startled the boys in 3C, because right on cue, the door across the hall creaked open and out came Jake and Jay, both peeking out.

They spotted you clinging to Jungwon like a koala.

You beamed. “Guys! It’s him!”

“The famous Jungwon,” Jay said, nodding in approval as he stepped out.

“And you must be Jake and Jay,” Jungwon said smoothly, setting you down.

Then came the third.

Sunghoon.

He didn’t move from the doorway. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Jungwon turned to him, a friendly smile still on his lips, chuckling. “You must be Sunghoon, then.”

Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed slightly. “What’s so funny?”

Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “She just… told me you were like this.”

“Like what?” Sunghoon asked sharply, the scoff nearly audible in his tone.

Jungwon scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing. She just said you were cool,” he said with a shrug, throwing you a teasing look.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

You stood there, suddenly awkward, unsure what the hell had crawled up Sunghoon’s ass. The hostility was as thick as the tension in the air and you hadn’t done anything. Not really.

At least you didn’t think you had.

Just stood there, arms crossed, a stiff expression on his face while Jake and Jay welcomed Jungwon like he was already part of the group. Jungwon, ever the social butterfly, fit in easily, throwing a few jokes around, complimenting the apartment despite its questionable decor, and even teasing Jake about the ugly dinosaur pyjamas he was wearing in broad daylight.

But Sunghoon?

He was frowning the entire time.

You couldn’t figure it out. His jaw was tight, his responses were clipped, and every time Jungwon so much as glanced your way, you saw Sunghoon’s eye twitch.