Do Re Reef

Back then, you were familiar with the paths that led to your house. It was much more colorful in your younger years.

A turn to the left, you vaguely remember seeing the vibrant blue house with white trims. And as you continue walking to your destination, you make another left turn, seeing the familiar sundry shop up ahead, a tiny preschool that you absolutely hated.

And then, your home.

You decided to make a stop, passing by your house and with your sandals digging on the grainy concrete, walking up to the stand, you see no one in sight in the store you used to frequent.

Seeing the sun peeking through the clouds, some things never changed, the sundry shop especially.

“Is anyone open?”

Sitting under the shade with the assortments was a much older owner, Mrs. Boo, who sat by, watching over the breakfast for any customers to walk over to. When she noticed your figure, it was as if old age never bothered her, as she got up from her chair and reached out to you to give you a warm hug.

You smile fondly when you finally see her, with her gray hair and wrinkles. She sees your face and kisses you on the cheek. You were lucky that she was one of your mother’s friends; you were always calling her Auntie Boo.

“How are you? It has been quite a long time since you visited.” Auntie Boo sets down a cup of coffee. “Are you getting anything here?”

Auntie Boo was the one who owned the sundry shop that was near your home, and your mother used to frequent it on Saturdays.

It was an easy walk; you even went with her whenever she needed to buy something, and it had things that you thought were so interesting, with questions lining up in your brain about how Auntie was even able to buy a bulk of many different scents of lined-up sachets of laundry detergent.

But all the look of question on your face disappeared as your eyes focused only on what was in front of you: the bag of snacks and plastic containers of candies stacked up in the glass display, though it was too tall for you, it still looked appealing, and you felt your mouth drool for a crunch of sweet corn chips.

You ask for the sweet corn chips, something about them makes you hungry.

Auntie Boo looks at you with a grin, “Preferences never changed, you’re just like my baby.”

“Is he home?” You ask her as you grab the bag of sweet corn chips that you had paid for. “I hope he’s doing well,” you take a piece before taking a seat on a bench.

“I remember the first time you two finally met.” Auntie Boo takes a cigarette before walking out to take a seat on the bench next to you. With a flicker of the lighter, the cigarette lights up.

“You used to buy a lot of candy here. I was worried about your health every time you carried that plastic bag full of sweets.” But Auntie didn’t mind; she always knew what kind of candies you liked, knowing to refill the jars as soon as they ran out of your favorite flavors.

Auntie Boo looks at you before huffing out smoke, “Your mother, she talked about the two of you finally meeting, oh..Seungkwan was actually really nervous when he saw you for the first time.”

Boo Seungkwan, the boy that your mother had always talked about as a sweet kid who would secretly hand her an extra shampoo packet, on the house.

And as he stood by the glass display one morning, drinking soda that was poured on a long plastic bag, topped with a long blue straw, he looked down at you when you stared at one of your favorite bags of chips, thinking about opening around 50 bags and swimming in its savory and even sweet taste.

“Who are you?” Seungkwan asked, sucking the cold bag of soda on his hand. You can feel how refreshing it might be if you drink it as you feel the sun stamp its heat onto your skin.

In the heat of July, you remember the way he looked at you. It was the first time you two had ever interacted, and in the shade that hid his eyes, you saw the pout on his face as he asked you.

Auntie Boo looked at Seungkwan, “Honey! You shouldn’t be rude to them. That’s your neighbour, did you know?”

“I wasn’t, Ma!” Seungkwan frowned, and you could hear him complain when he began to make excuses that didn’t even correlate to what he was saying: “I stubbed my toe!” “They did it first!”

A simple sorry would have been enough, but you’ve come to learn of Seungkwan’s stubbornness in apologizing.

Seungkwan was never good with words, as he almost dropped what he was carrying when he saw you sitting next to his mother, laughing and even eating snacks that you brought for them.

You look much different since the last time he saw you; it looks like living far from home actually treated you well.

“Ma? You didn’t tell me that they were visiting.” Seungkwan lifts the heavy box closer to his chest, setting it by a counter. He looks at you before smiling. “You didn’t tell me.”

“It was gonna be a surprise!” You were quick to say when you got up from where you were sitting.

“How long has it been since we last spoke, two years?” Seungkwan was mindful when he finally took you into his arms. The air around you felt different and unfamiliar; it made it somewhat easy for him to let go of the hug.

—

You wouldn’t have preferred walking on your own without Seungkwan by your side, but now it feels odd.

It has been years. Years since you two had last seen each other, and years after you two sent each other handwritten letters and emails. And when technology changes, so does your form of messaging.

You remember the video calls as he talks on and on about his first day at his new school. He mentioned that the weather was different from his old home, often experiencing extreme weather changes. You also talk about your first day back in high school, although it was a new building, it was still with the same students.

It was simple enough, just talking about each other’s day, even if the only reason the two of you wanted to call was to

But time passes by, and somehow, the one you cherished most is only something you look back on.

“Your hair is still the same,” you tell Seungkwan, laughing at the time when he video-called you, dying his hair a blonde color.

Seungkwan smiles as he touches the bangs of his newly dyed black hair. You try not to ruffle his hair, putting your hand behind, playing with your own hair instead, and smiling at his action.

“Until when are you leaving?” Stopping at the traffic light, there are very few cars passing by.

“Saturday,” you say, shaking your head. The thought of having to go back to classes after spring break was over was dreadful enough. “I want to stay here just a while longer.”

“Did I ever tell you about what happened to the elementary school we used to go to?”

“Isn’t it around here?” You ask him, “You told me about the school’s financial problems before…”

Seungkwan slowly stops in his footsteps before turning to the caged space, towered with concrete and metal pipes. The two of you just walked past the old building of the elementary school; there was a small banner that showed that your old school was going to become a new apartment complex. “It’s been closed ever since I started college.”

“That’s what happened?”

“No one wanted to save the school,” Seungkwan said, “I remember them saying that the school further down was enough.”

You stumble a bit when you feel the uneven ground. Seungkwan looks back at you when you yelp. “You good?” He asks before giving you a small nod when you say that you were fine.

It was a shock to hear what happened to a school that used to be your sanctuary, but you didn’t know why you felt guilty. You remember wanting to stay just a little bit longer with the kids who lived far from you, and Seungkwan always wanted to leave early. Thinking of the recent shows that he might be missing right now.

The elementary school used to be filled with everything that your heart desired: books that always caught your attention, school events that seemed to have never ended, and even being able to spend just a little more time with one of your friends, Boo Seungkwan, who moved his way into your heart.

He always spent every minute with you. Secrets were shared under tables during a game of hide-and-seek, where it was too difficult to look for both of you. Both of you wanted to become desk buddies because of the blooming interest you both had in music and sports. You would tell of your dreams and aspirations with each other.

It was a moment that you didn’t want to forget about.

"You’re crying, Kwan…did you have a bad dream?"

Yet, there was always something in Seungkwan’s mind that made it seem like you were too close to disappearing. In his bedroom, where sunlight peeked under the covers of his bed when the two of you woke up after a nap.

"If we ever leave each other, promise me that we’ll find each other," he says, a firm hand grasping for yours as he looks at you with earnestness.

“Seungkwan, what are you saying—”

"Never forget our promise together, okay?" Seungkwan’s voice interrupted yours, holding your hand tightly like you were going to leave him forever.

“I’m never leaving you, Seungkwan, I swear on that.” You smile, kissing him on the cheek, something that he was always fond of.

Soothing, it was something that Seungkwan always felt whenever he was with you, the way you caressed his hair and helped him control his breathing, like it was second nature.

“Get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The day you came home from his house to grab something, you noticed that the door had already been unlocked. The door creeks silently, and you open the door to find your mother cooking dinner; it seems she was home a little earlier. 

“Why are you home?”

Your mother turns around, quietly whispering to the telephone a little more before hanging up. She didn’t respond; her breaths were slow, and you were getting antsy. You think about Seungkwan, the lampshades, and fairy lights already lit up, and you look back at your mother.

Your mother looks at you before shaking her head, “Do you want to go out tomorrow? In a few days, we’ll be leaving.”

“What…?”

“I don’t know Seungkwan…I just…”

You never really liked sharing your woes with Seungkwan, even with the ones where your mother and your grandma were arguing constantly about your career. It was easier to listen to Seungkwan and his little stories of winning the team’s soccer game.

But this tormented you, you look at your classmate as they give you letters for your journey in another country, and even hope that you come back to a reunion of some sort.

Seungkwan didn’t give you any gift; it didn’t feel right to give you a gift, something that felt a little too permanent. Instead, he stayed by your side in many ways than one.

Calls were made, letters were written, and even short little emails. You both tried to secure your friendship even if you both were far away. But you realize that it might not last long when his responses are left empty, and his calls are less frequent, and everything just slowly ends with you two when you stop responding as well.

Seungkwan finds a potted plant; the fruit it was meant to bear was still growing flowers. Above the branch was an envelope that was wrapped around with a pink string.

Seungkwan, I know we already said our goodbyes, but I don’t know why it still didn’t feel satisfying when I told you goodbye. I don’t know if you’re sad or you’ve probably been too busy to respond…I think I understand that feeling This plant will grow into a beautiful tree. It bears your favorite fruit. I hope you take good care of it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I hope one day we’ll see each other again. — Your Best Friend <3

WEDNESDAY — BIRTHDAY PARTIES

Somehow, you were invited to a kid's birthday party today. Sitting down on the couch with another kid next to you, you quietly drink the juice pack that was kindly given to you by Seungkwan as he played with the kids.

Older women and laughing drunks go around and chat outside the back door, where a restaurant is connected, the very famous Kim’s Eatery.

It was Kim Mingyu and his son’s birthday today, and they were both celebrating together. You didn’t know this Mingyu person very well.

“I know this is a lot,” Mingyu laughs, “I think, going outside might be better than watching kids' movies. They want to get to know you.”

“I’m sorry, get to know me?” Getting up from the sofa, you turn to look at Seungkwan, being tackled by 5-year-olds and playing with newly opened toys given by Mingyu’s son. You see him looking before you quietly turn back.

“Some of my friends in high school. Seungkwan told me about you going to another country for school, and you told him it was a scary experience.” Mingyu ruffled one of his kids’ hair as they ran to the playroom. “Seungkwan loved talking about you, even the personal stuff that I thought should be kept a secret.”

“I didn’t really know that.” You smile, feeling the warmth hit your face like a petal falling as you see the adults casually talking amongst each other. “It was scary, it really did feel like I was some fish out of water.

The restaurant was packed, making it impossible to find chairs for the two of you to sit on. Mingyu decided to stand by the bar. He opens a can of soda before handing it to you. You quietly thank him before you take a sip. It was cold and had an interesting flavor of raspberry.

“I didn’t really know why we stopped talking with each other, and now I am at your kids birthday party.”

Mingyu chokes on his drink, “Me neither…”

—

“You smoke?”

You look at Seungkwan before you finally flicker the light and take a huff.  “Didn’t want your Mom to see,”

“I never thought you did.”

“Neither did I,” you look out at the people who quietly bid their goodbyes at Kim’s Eatery. Looking at Mingyu, who says goodnight to the kids, he finally notices the two of you grinning at the sight.

“Mingyu’s nice.”

“He’s nice to everyone,” Seungkwan tells you, “it’s no wonder his restaurant is super popular.”

You and Seungkwan continue to walk in silence. Your steps felt heavy as you discarded the cigarette butt.

“Do you remember when you ate dinner with us?” You ask Seungkwan

“I still can’t believe you remember that!”

You remember your mother went to visit the shop to gossip with Mrs. Boo about some man who flirted with her at the supermarket.

“Seriously? Men these days have to learn how to talk to a woman like you right!” Outraged, Mrs. Boo was vibrant as usual as she took out a quick sip of her homemade lemonade, “You should have told him off,” she told your mother, looking at you with a grin. 

The smell of something cooking takes your eyes off your own glass of cold lemonade and the fried snacks that you were unfamiliar with, but still, it makes your mouth water, so it couldn’t be that bad.

It was your stomach that was speaking, for you as you asked Auntie Boo, “What’s that?”

She smiled, “Our dinner for tonight. It’s my baby’s favorite.”

A glass of lemonade slides by your table, and you look at the owner of the cold drink. His eyes shift away from you, picking up the fried snack with a fork, eating his snack in silence. You notice an empty bowl beside a smaller plate.

Back then, Seungkwan wasn’t good with words. The only way he showed that he was sorry was through his actions.

Pouring your now-empty glass with the new serving of cold lemonade, Seungkwan doesn’t say anything, but when a smile is shown on your face as you thank him, he couldn’t help but smile as well as he took a bite of the fried snack.

“Do you want to eat with us, Honey?”

You look at Seungkwan, who stops his munching as he looks up to you with his eyes wide, irises disappearing. Both of you slowly look at Auntie Boo, and then you look at your own mother, who smiles at you.

It was a fond memory where time didn’t really matter in the slightest.

“I never really thought that things would change.” Seungkwan puts his hand in his pockets. “But ever since you left, suddenly, everything started changing. Isn’t it weird?”

“Well, we changed…did we not?”

Seungkwan looks at the sky, the stars twinkling a little more tonight. He looks at you before smiling. If he really did change, he hopes that the change has given him more confidence to tell you many things. But he decides to do this instead.

In a swift motion, his lips move to your cheeks.

Mwah.

Well, he definitely still has a place in your heart.

FRIDAY — BACK THEN

Granny, I don’t know why, but I suddenly thought about what you told me when I was younger. You always talked about how much you really liked Seungkwan and how nice it is that I have a friend like him. I’m leaving tonight, but Seungkwan invited me to visit the tree that you talked about, which is one I still have yet to see. He told me many things about it, and it was very endearing, reminding me of a story I wrote when I was little. I still remember you reading it to me… I don’t know why, but sometimes I wonder what life could be like if I were able to stay, because right now, I’m still scared about whatever I am feeling at the moment; it’s a little daunting that I could still even feel this way for someone I stopped talking with a long time ago. Is it nostalgia? Even I don’t know…I hope you’ll be able to tell me one day, when I get to see you. — Your Blossom <3

It’s a tree. It was one of the largest in your hometown.

Many of the people stay to relax under it whenever the sun becomes too unbearable to handle. Thankfully, it was nighttime, and the stars were the only light shining above you.

“This one stayed,” Seungkwan said, walking up the steep hill where the tree lay. You remember this tree as something that used to be so difficult to reach.

“Do you know any of the constellations out there?” Seungkwan reaches his arms out, opening and closing his hands, “There are just so many, I can't identify all of them.” Seungkwan shifts, his body moving a little closer to you.

You never exactly knew all of the different types of constellations, only some of the famous ones like Orion and Ursa Major.

“I remember you wanted to study the constellations…” You look at Seungkwan as his arms reach high up into the glimmering skies.

“It’s been a long time…I kind of forgot I even wanted to become an astronomer.”

“You didn’t do it?”

“No…”

“Why not?”

“Mom…wanted something that earns a little more money. I can kind of understand that kind of sentiment.

Silence. It was something that still took a while to get used to, different from how it used to be when it was so easy to move from conversation to conversation with him.

“Do you think the stars shine brighter because you’re here?”

“What?”

“They never did ever since you left.” Seungkwan said, “I know…that I’ve been a little too forward, but…I don’t know? It’s just been confusing since you’ve been here…and things felt good for once.”

“I just feel—when you left me the fruit tree, It felt like the day before you left, flowers still bloomed, and we were able to learn about so many things without life rushing us. ” Seungkwan turns his head to look at you, a bit flustered that you were already looking at him. “Sorry, did I talk too much?”

“No, no…it’s just…” You turn around to look back up in the sky, and how bright the stars were when the city lights didn’t interrupt. You wonder why you still think about him even when the calls have already ended.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, it feels like it’s all coming to me that…” you stop to think for a moment, “It’s… it’s just been a long time since we talked...” you breathe, “I thought that because we were apart, that we would stop being friends.”

“What are you saying?”

There was still time. You didn’t leave; no one was keeping you away. He still had your phone number, even if it had changed, he would still ask for it.

“I don’t mind if you’re not the same...I still want you to stay.”

You look at Seungkwan, and as it began to flutter, the rain quietly poured. You reach over to embrace him.

EPILOUGE

“Can I kiss you?”

The rain wasn’t loud, yet he still preferred to whisper the question that you had immediately understood. Kisses aren’t exactly ones that you think of when you talk to your friend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.

You look at Seungkwan, the coffee had already gone cold when the two of you talked about the next few days, unfinished words, and the occasional coffee-making.

“If I say no?” You grin, tracing the rim of the ceramic mug.

“Then I don’t mind that.” Seungkwan took a sip of his iced americano. He told you that it was always his go-to order in coffee shops.

You still take a sip of the cold cup. Looking away from the awkward look on his face.

“Promise it's not a prank this time?” You ask him as he suddenly had a bright look on his face

“I promise.”

You look out the window, and the rain is heavy; even a puddle is forming on the road. Seungkwan tilts his head to look at your face as he tries to look at what you were looking at.

“Fine.”

It was as if reality had just hit Seungkwan when you finally said yes. After a pile of nonsense began to form in the back of his head, Seungkwan covered his mouth. Before quietly looking at you.

“Are you sure, though?” Seungkwan slowly reaches out to caress your face, pulling gently to make you look at him, as he moves your head away from his, “You look lovely…” Seungkwan wasted no time.

His lips were immediately on yours. It tasted like bitter coffee and a hint of caramel. You lean closer, breathing through your nose as you feel the flutter of his bangs touching your cheeks. And like the rain that continued to pour, it sputtered like the fast beating of your heart that couldn’t seem to stop.

You let go of the kiss as Seungkwan looks at you, smiling. As he kisses you, “See, I told you.”

You shut him up with another kiss.

NOTES : to anyone reading this, i am really sorry because this is not my greatest written work because i legit just experienced the ao3 curse ( and that is very much not a great excuse ) and rushed to finish two of these fics, i promise i will make one good seungkwan fic!!

“I’m hungry…” Bomi mumbled, feeling the roar of hunger growing.

Wonwoo nods as he checks the hour; it was still 6 am, an hour earlier than when he started setting up for work and for Bomi. “Do you want to get ready first or eat?”

Bomi already knew what she wanted to do, as she listened to the whir of the microwave, her food was taking its time.

Wonwoo looks down at the lunch that he is setting up for her. It wasn’t really much, but it was still enough for his little girl's meal. Slightly cut sausages that were very burnt with hot rice and small cut vegetables.

It was the same lunch that Bomi had yesterday, but it was still doable; if it had a bit of the required nutrients, then there wasn’t really anything to worry about.

“Done!” Setting down the plastic bowl, there was still a bit of rice and vegetables left. Wonwoo looked at the unfinished food before throwing it away.

“You didn’t finish your veggies?” Wonwoo looks at Bomi, “You know how important they are for you, right?”

“Yes…” Bomi pouts, huffing her cheeks still in a slight defiance, “They still don’t taste good though.”

Wonwoo knows that, but if someone were to compare it to his own food made by hand, even they would choose the good ‘ol TV dinner. Wonwoo shakes his head before lifting his daughter high.

“Let’s get you ready?”

Wonwoo usually preferred to do things quickly, but Bomi was quite the opposite; she always loved spending her time deciding on what kind of hairstyle would go best with her bright school uniform, and as Wonwoo brushes her hair down, he notices that she had quietly fallen asleep.

It was quite adorable the way Bomi had many characteristics that still remind him so much of his wife. Even after she was gone, there was still a memory of her.

“Baby, you’re sleeping again.” Wonwoo pinched his little girl’s cheek.

Getting a girl ready took some getting used to, especially if she was the fussy one. Bomi used to be pretty defiant of the already tired Wonwoo as he tied his shoes and then clasped the belts of her shoes.

“Ready now?”

—

You remember the first time you encountered Jeon Bomi.

It was 5 in the morning when you arrived safely at your restaurant, already ready to work in your navy apron. You start by flipping the signage to “Open” even when the sun has yet to rise.

Sweeping up the dining area for any dust that hasn’t been cleaned up, you place the chairs, which have been set up neatly over the table, wipe the tables, and grab some condiments to be placed in the most populated parts of the dining area.

You continue with your work by prepping your kitchen for the day ahead. Washed and diced vegetables and red meat that are large enough for a big feast are set aside. The water with the aromatics begins to boil as you quietly place the meat, letting it stew.

Letting the meat blanch for a few minutes, you give yourself new work by washing the rice. Around one to two cups, you pour out some of the starchy water. It was a routine to always do these two things first, letting the white rice be cooked in the rice cooker, you return to your meat dish and pour aside any excess, making the meat simmer in the spices.

The smell made your mouth water. The broth that you had just poured into the dish had begun to seep its flavor into the meat. It was almost done, and when you heard the noise of the rice cooker, you grinned.

Braised Beef. You remember living with your grandparents whenever you visited them during the summer, and one of the things that they made for you was Braised Beef over a fresh bowl of rice. It didn’t matter what the season was; the meal should be eaten in. You could remember the freshly cut garlic and its aroma that made your mouth salivate.

The jingle of the door disrupts your hunger. Looking at the time, you realize that it was already 6:30 in the morning. Just right on time for the two to enter.

Jeon Wonwoo walks through the door with one hand. The other one seemed to carry a little girl, who was still asleep even in her light colored school uniform.

“Good Morning.” Wonwoo smiled, “It seems I got here pretty early.”

This was also part of your routine, though it was usually after his work that you would meet Wonwoo sitting by the bar and ordering the usual food of beef stew and a plate of rice, something that he says he would never get tired of.

Wonwoo was a pretty sociable individual, though many of his friends that he invited would like to say otherwise. They loved to joke that he probably liked you, which was quite embarrassing.

You didn’t really mind.

“No, you’re finally right on time, that’s for sure.”

Wonwoo smiles at your reply, “I see, well, I think I should pay first.”

Setting down his girl in the booster seat that you had already placed for them and whispering to her, Bomi quietly yawns at the tickling noise of Wonwoo’s whisper. “Mmnghh…” was the only thing she could muster up as a hot plate of food was placed on her table.

Wonwoo knows how much his little girl hates having to wake up early. If it were up to her, she would have gone to dreamland much longer, flying around spaceships and running in mermaid tails.

Quietly giving his card to pay, he looks at you dialing up the number before looking back at the sight of braised beef with the side of white rice. Wonwoo suddenly felt his stomach grumble. He picked up the condiment of his choice and sprinkled the dried garlic on top of his rice.

Thank you for the food, he says in the back of his mind. Scooping up a heap full of the beef, Wonwoo digs in.

And as per usual, it was the greatest thing he had ever tasted. Wonwoo picks up a spoonful of broth and soaks it into the white. Taking another spoonful, he eats more, and it’s just as good.

Bomi stares up at the food that was placed on her table. When she notices her father eating the same thing she is.

She first took a sniff of the beef, as if she were some food inspector who knew what kinds of foods were edible or not. But, as she took a bite of the beef stew, her plate was immediately almost cleaned off as she scarfed down the food.

“Slow down, you’re gonna get a stomachache!”

You smile at the sight when Wonwoo gives her a straw to drink the water, the little girl laughs after coughing. Wonwoo looks at you before smiling. “This is Bomi, she’s very much something.”

“Dad, this is super good, can I have more?” Bomi reaches out to drink more of his water when she looks at you quietly walking over to their table

“You must be Bomi, it’s finally great to see you.” You greet the little girl as you extend a hand. Bomi’s eyes began to sparkle as she shook your hand as much as a little kid can do.

“You’re my favorite chef ever!”

Wonwoo laughs. To think that it was only the first time the two of you had met and she already likes you already, “I think you’re pretty lucky to be liked by my daughter, Chef.”

–

It was Saturday when you got a call from Wonwoo’s number, and the voice that spoke was that of the young kid who had a sort of desperate plea for assistance. Wonwoo has given you his address before to order some of the things that you

“Wonwoo—” You weren’t able to even ask your question when you smelled something abhorrent even past the shut door.

The door opens, and Wonwoo looks at you with surprise. It was in the middle of the day, and you two had yet to meet up after work. The brown smoke that began to form in the silver cookware moved right through your nostrils. Quickly, you walk over to the kitchen and grab the dirty towel. The handle of the saucepan was scalding, even with the cloth wrapped around it as you moved it away from the stovetop.

“What is this?” You ask him, the closer you were to the smell, the more the burning smell got into your breathing as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“Burnt the curry.”

“Instant curry too!” Bomi yelped out, and you felt the thumping on the wooden floor as she jumped up and down to tell on her own father.

You look at the “food” that was on the pot, inedible looking, loose soup, and even mysterious content that brings concern to you as you look at Bomi, who definitely wouldn’t be able to reach the stovetop.

“Dad is a great dad, but he’s not a good cook like Mom!” Bomi says loudly. The television was too loud for any kind of response from you.

You quietly cough. A home-cooked meal, to think about something that Wonwoo would be able to do without ruining the kitchen.

“This is the problem, huh.” You mutter to yourself as you begin to prepare the pots and pans, scouring through the places where he mentions he placed his ingredients, but there wasn’t anything much to go around.

“Do you want to start small?” You ask him, “One of the things I learned how to cook was braised beef.”

“Maybe something suitable for the weather? Or something the kids would like.” Wonwoo replied, taking a bite of the toasted bread that had strawberry jam.

“But I like Braised Beef!!!” Bomi, who watches one of her favorite television shows and downs a glass of milk, looks at you, and then at her father. Grinning from ear to ear, she gets off the couch to take a seat on the chair, finally waiting for this moment to happen, her favorite chef teaching her dad how to cook at least one good meal.

You don’t really know what kids like to eat. It was the middle of spring, some fresh vegetables might have grown by now, and markets were probably filled with cut plastic containers of strawberries or radishes that were just off their roots. Kids are usually picky with their food, so it all really depended on what Bomi liked on her plate.

“What do the kids usually eat?” You ask Wonwoo as you find him opening the window.

“They eat bread with ham and vegetables. Some kids get lunch packed by their parents.”

Vegetables are pretty good. You remember that the tomatoes which haven’t been used had begun to bruise. Wonwoo thought of making soup out of it. Sure, tomato soup might sound appealing, but that's not the way to use these perfectly shaped tomatoes.

“How about a pizza?” You ask both of them.

As soon as the word ‘pizza’ was muttered in your mouth, Bomi immediately started jumping up and down, chanting a song about “pizza! Pizza!”

You could easily make pizza with Japanese bread, which has a softer texture than other kinds of white bread. It was also one of the few ingredients that Wonwoo had. Tomato sauce, mozzarella, basil, and even the fresh tomatoes could work as nice toppings.

“Alright, Bomi, let’s start with the bread.”

Bomi was pretty quick as she grabbed the bag of Japanese bread from the table. Wonwoo quietly sets the oven to the right temperature after you instructed him to always preheat his oven.

Sprinkling the shredded mozzarella was considered entertainment for the little girl, as it reminded her of sprinkles…oddly enough. As the cheese sticks to the pasted tomato sauce, you place all of the toppings that you have already prepped.

It was a nice activity, although it was quite different from being in the kitchen, you notice the way Wonwoo was actively enjoying himself as he placed the bread on the tin foil tray.

Once it was done, Bomi tried to grab the tray when Wonwoo lifted it away from her.

“Be careful, it’s hot…” Wonwoo said as he blows the hot air away from the steaming pizza, she takes a bite of the pizza bread.

You also take a bite out of yours.

It tasted good, the tomato was definitely perfect for the weather and you see that Bomi enjoyed her pizza as well, with the way her eyes sort of sparkled.

In the next few months, you decided that you were going to teach Wonwoo how to make good food for his daughter, from foods that were good with rice to foods that were good with noodles.

Wonwoo is a pretty quick learner; he was able to not burn a hole through the roof of his kitchen. What he was pretty good at was being able to replicate the way you cook dinners, which has now become a common invitation of learning, as well as fun meals for his little daughter, who is always excited to see you.

Depending on the home, Bomi always preferred yours, with how much different array of spices there are in a single cabinet, as you tell her the names and the kinds of foods they can make.

“Oh? Where’s Bomi?” You ask him, noticing the look of relief that he expressed, his shoulders relaxed, and a breath was let out. The familiar smell of blooming flowers welcomes him.

“She’s being taken care of by one of my friends.” He says when he sees you slowly walking to him to grab the paper bags. “I got it, I got it,” Wonwoo says, hand out as if there is an invisible wall between you and the grocery bag.

You couldn’t help but smile at his defensive attitude; they’re just groceries after all. Taking a few steps back, you let Wonwoo take off his shoes and set them up beside the entrance.

“Well, is it the Kwon Soonyoung guy again?”

Wonwoo shakes his head, “No, Yoon Jeonghan. He’s very good with kids.”

“Looks like you got a lot of stuff, you better have what I asked for here,” You joke as you try to take away the grocery bag from Wonwoo, but it seems he already knew you would have done that when he swiftly lifts the heavy bag, keeping it away from you at a minimal distance.

He walks carefully to set the groceries on a nearby table, taking out items that he had bought, “You didn’t really ask for much, you gave me like three things to buy.” Wonwoo says, slowly pulling out a net of oranges. He looks at you with slight interest as to what you might think.

“Mandarins,” you simply reply.

“Mandarins of love.”

“Oh my god, Wonwoo…”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the attempts of flirting that he tried to do every time the two of you would spend just a little bit of more alone time together.

But of course, you didn’t mind it. You always took it with your heart and placed it in the meals you make in your restaurant, especially for him.

NOTES : this is not my greatest written work because i legit just experience the ao3 curse and rushed to finish two of these fics, one day i will write a better fic for this guy trust </33

THE CHILDHOOD PROMISE

Joshua would say that a part of him always felt like something was missing.

At the age of eight, he remembers traveling to Seoul for the first time with his mother. It was a spontaneous trip, something that his mother had decided just a week before. However, Joshua was young and going anywhere felt like a new journey.

As he held onto his mother's hand, he remembers his eyes widening at the sight of all the cherry blossoms in the park and pointing them out to his mother.

"Mum! Look!" He said, glancing upwards towards his mother. "There's so many of them!"

His mother laughed as Joshua tugged her towards the trees, eager to get a closer look. A breeze swept through the park, making the cherry blossoms sway as a couple of loose ones fell around the two of them.

Joshua pulled his hand away from his mothers as he began jumping up and down, trying to catch a few, intrigued by how pretty the blossoms looked. His mother watched, her smile widening more if possible as she felt her heart swell at how cute her son looked at this moment. His tiny bunny hops increasing by the minute as he kept reaching for a singular cherry blossom to land in his hand.

Her hand covered her mouth as she tried her best not to giggle at Joshua's little disappointed grunts, each time the cherry blossom floating past his hand. She wondered how long it will take for him to give up on his quest and pick one up from the ground instead. However, she knew her son well enough to know that Joshua was never one to let adversity get him down, that he was stubborn enough to continue until he got his way.

A trait that he no doubt picked up from her.

Joshua, oblivious to his mother's stares, stopped his jumps, trying to figure out how to complete his mission. He gazed at the falling blossoms before his eyes locked onto two that were coming right towards him. He narrowed his eyes and bent his knees before he jumped as high as he could, his hands reaching out as high as he could, feeling as if they were going to rip out of their sockets before clenching his fists so hard, he knew his hands were going to turn red.

Joshua's mother watched as her son missed his footing and landed on his bum with a hard thump, making her eyes widen as she raced over to him.

"Joshua?!" His mother exclaimed as she reached his side and crouched down beside him. Her eyes darted from his face to his bum and legs as she assessed him for any injuries. "Are you alright?!"

Joshua, however, didn't hear any of his mother's questions and just peered at his hand. His heart pulsed hard in anticipation as he slowly opens both his hands, feeling something in both of them.

His eyes widen, lighting up as he feels the silky smooth petals in both his palm as his endorphins skyrocket.

He whipped his head up to meet his mother's eyes, giving her a slight shock at the big grin on his face.

He eagerly shoved his hands in-front of her eyes, making his mother's head tilt backwards as she peered at the light pink petal in one of his hands and two white ones in the other.

"I got them!" Joshua said giddily, his hands animatedly swaying a little from the excitement that was rushing through his veins. "I actually got them!"

His mother's face changed to one of relief and amusement, feeling the worry seep away from her veins from her little boy's bright grin as he showcased the flowers in his hands. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as she helped Joshua stand up, dusting off his pants as he did.

"Be more careful next time." Joshua heard his mother mutter as she gave him one last look. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

Joshua furrowed his eyebrows at her words, a frown on his lips as he felt a little bit of guilt seep into his veins. "I'm sorry." He softly said, his doe eyes shimmering which makes his mother sigh as she shook her head.

"It's alright, sweetheart." She said, brushing his hair softly.

"I just wanted to catch one to give to you because it was pretty." Joshua muttered, his eyes flitting down to his shoes for a split second as he lifted the hand with the pink petal in it, stretching it towards his mother.

Her heart warmed at the sight as she watched Joshua gnaw on his bottom lip nervously. She reached out and took the cherry blossom in between her fingers, a small smile appearing on her face as she did so.

"You're such a sweet boy, Joshua." She softly stated, her eyes pricking a little with tears as she watched Joshua peer upwards at her.

"Really?" He asked softly, his doe eyes melting his mother more which made her nod, her smile getting bigger by the second.

"Really." She placed her hands on her knees as she stood up, stretching a little as she does. She spotted an ice cream cart not too far from them, giving her an idea. "And since you're so sweet," She peered downwards to her son. "I think you deserve a sweet treat. Don't you agree?"

Joshua's eyes widened at her words, spotting what his mother was talking about as he nodded excitedly. Joshua's mother lets out a laugh at how excited he was.

"How about you sit down underneath the cherry blossom tree and wait for me?" His mother suggested sweetly as she gestured towards the tree that was not too far away from where they were standing. "I'll be back in ten minutes."

Joshua nodded frivolously at his mother's words before he sprinted towards the tree and plopped himself onto the ground, eager to please his mother as he excitedly waited for his sweet treat.

He brings up his right hand that held the two white petals that he caught before, pride blooming in his chest as he felt the texture in between his fingers. He smiled, feeling the smoothness of the petals as he peered up to take in what the world had to offer.

The birds were chirping, the petals were gracefully falling and he felt as though he was on top of the world. Nothing was going to break the serene, peaceful environment that he was in.

"MUMMY? DADDY?"

Except for that.

Joshua jumped, hearing the yells as he whipped his head around to the source with his eyebrows furrowed.

Who was doing all that god-awful yelling?

That was when he noticed you.

You looked around his age, maybe a year or two younger than he was, in a fluffy polka-dotted skirt with a pink unicorn top as well as… bunny ears?

Joshua frowned at the weird get-up, not knowing why you were doing all this yelling before he noticed that you were crying. The realization made him frown even more as he analyzed you. Why were you crying?

He watched you clutch the bunny that you had in your hands, tighter to your chest as you sniffled and looked around anxiously.

Joshua's eyebrows furrowed even more as his emotions wrestled internally at the sight. Should be go up and talk to you?

His answer came to him as he heard you let out another watery yell, this one more distressed than the last which pushed away all thought of going back to pretending as if he didn't see you. Because that's not how his mother had raised him to be.

He stood up, dusted off his pants just like his mother did a few minutes ago before he walked over to you, concern etched onto his face with a frown to tie it all together.

You, on the other hand, were trapped in your own world. You didn't know how you had gotten here. One moment, you were holding hands with your mother and your father, admiring all the cherry blossom trees, the next, you were all alone. You did get slightly distracted by something that looked an awful lot like a bunny and left them but you were smart! You retraced your steps as your parents had taught you but when you had reached the cherry blossom tree that they were at, they weren't there.

Panic had started coursing through your veins at the thought of being left behind, making tears prick your eyes as you called out for them. You were tired, hungry, and just wanted to go home at this point. You rubbed away a few stray tears, ready to give up when a voice broke all your thoughts.

"Are you alright?"

You jumped at the sudden voice, whipping around to see a boy with the prettiest doe eyes that you've ever seen, dressed in a comfortable woolly jacket that was a little too big for him, denim jeans as well as some really cute sneakers. You looked at his face and how concerned he looked before shaking your head in response.

"No." You sniffled out. "I can't find my parents."

Joshua's eyes widened in response as he started to whip his head in every direction, trying to see if there were any distressed parents who were looking for you, as you had just been looking for them.

"Where did you last see them?" He asked softly.

"Under this tree." You admitted, hugging your bunny impossibly tighter to your chest as you tried to soothe your nerves. "I was bad... I saw this bunny and ran off when they weren't looking so it's all my fault."

Joshua frowned more at the admittance as he stepped closer to you before bringing you into a hug, just like his mother had taught him to do whenever he saw someone that was upset. He felt you soak his woolly sweater a little with your tears but he didn't care at that point. All he saw was this sad and scared little girl who needed a hug.

He pulled away, making you peer up at him with your boba shaped eyes.

"I am sure they are looking for you!" Joshua reassured before gesturing over to the tree. "Do you want to wait with me? My mom will be back soon with ice cream!"

Your eyes widened at that, "Ice cream?" You asked, hope in your tone which made the boy nod eagerly before taking your free hand into his and flashed you a gigantic, handsome grin.

"Let's go!"

He tugged you back to his spot under the tree as he plopped back down onto the ground before he pat the empty space next to him, a gesture that he wanted you to take a seat as well. You sit, placing your stuffed bunny on your lap, fidgeting slightly with the ears when Joshua spoke up again.

"My name is Joshua and I am eight years old this year!" He introduced, the smile on his face never fading as he held up eight fingers for you to see, just to solidify his point. You repeated his name making Joshua's smile grow even wider as he nodded at your pronunciation. "What's yours?"

You chewed on your bottom lip before softly telling him your name and that you're six years old this year. He repeated it, just like you had done before with his.

"That's a really cool name!" He admitted making your cheeks flush a little at tho boy in-front of you, who seemed so excited at just any words that leave your mouth.

"Thank you." You responded shyly, your hands still fidgeting with the bunny ears. Joshua buzzed a little with excitement at the fact that he had made a new friend, his mother would be so proud of him!

"We're friends now!" He said, nodding with a big smile on his face as your heart soars at the thought of making a new friends, your nerves slowly melting away.

Joshua gave you a once over before pointing to your bunny. "Does your bunny have a name?"

You glanced downwards to the stuffed toy in your hands before looking back up at him and nodding. "Her name is Penny." Joshua smiled at you as you outstretched your arms out to him with Penny in them, letting him have a better look at your support toy. "My mummy got him for me when she went to America last week!"

Joshua's eyes widened, "Wait really?!" He asked, excitedly scooting closer to you. You nod, a little confused by his outburst.

"I'm from America! My mummy and I are here on holiday!" He watches as your eyes widen at his words, your jaw dropping open.

"That's so cool!" You managed to get out, making the boy nod along with your words. He watched you fidget with the bunny ears once more before pointing upwards at the trees.

"Do you like the pretty trees?" Joshua asked as he peered upwards to see more cherry blossoms failing over the top of your heads as another gust of wind blew past.

You eyes lit up a little at the question as you nodded. "My mummy said that they're called cherry blossoms." You stated, peering upwards as well to look at the pretty blossoms that were cascading downwards. "She also said that there are over two hundred different ones!"

Joshua's eyes widened at your fun fact as his jaw dropped open slightly. "Two hundred??" It was a lot for his little eight-year old brain to comprehend. "That's more than the numbers that we learn in class!"

You let out a giggle, caught off-guard at the exclamation which made Joshua's heart soar more. He made you laugh! He was pleased with himself, he was doing everything that his mother had taught him about being a good gentleman.

Joshua continues on his tangent, distracting you as you shared more fun facts about the spring season with him. You giggling every once in a while which spurred Joshua on more. Your nerves and panic slowly seeped away from your veins as you continued to talk to Joshua, getting more and more interested about the boy in-front of you.

"Do you live here in Seoul?" Joshua asked, making you nod.

"I live pretty close to the park." You softly admitted, looking up to scan at the different buildings before pointing in a direction. "Over that way!"

Joshua's eyes widened at your admittance before his hand flew to yours to tug it back down. "You can't tell people where you live!"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not telling people… I'm telling you."

Joshua shook his head at your words. "But what if I'm a total stranger! You shouldn't be going around telling people that."

"But aren't we friends?" You asked softly, tilting your head to the side and making Joshua's heart jump a little. He internally frowned at that motion, unsure of why his heart was acting this way but he pushed it away in-order to correct you.

"We are!" He corrected, raising his hands in surrender, scared that you were about to cry once again. "But you shouldn't tell people that."

Your eyebrows furrowed even more, opening your mouth as you were about to retort when a woman's voice interrupts you.

"Shua, here's your ice— oh!" The two of you turned towards the sound of the voice, seeing Joshua's mother stood there with two cups of ice-cream in her hand. "Who is this?"

Joshua smiled before gesturing towards you proudly. "My new friend!" He admitted making you nod shyly as he tells his mother your name.

His mother looked between the two of you before giving you a smile. "Nice to meet you!" She said softly as she passed Joshua his ice-cream. "Where are your parents, sweetheart?"

Joshua watched as your smile dropped before going back to fidgeting with the bunny ears before he turned to his mother. "She lost her parents a little while ago." He admitted softly, glancing at you as he said it, hoping that it wouldn't set you off crying again.

His mother's expression changed to one of understanding. "Ah… I see." She turned to you, crouching down to your height, her eyes filled with empathy as she analyzed you. "Do you know their phone number by any chance, sweetheart? Anything that we could use to call them?"

You thought for a moment before nodding your head. "I know my daddy's number." You softly admitted which made Joshua's mother's eyes light up.

"Wow! You're such a smart girl." She cooed, patting your head as she took a quick glance at Joshua. "I've been trying to get Shua to remember my number for over a year now and he still forgets."

"Mom!" Joshua whined, making you giggle as his mother shoot you a wink and handed you her phone for you to put your father's number into before she turned to her son.

"But it's the truth!"

Joshua pouted at his mother's words but it cracked slightly as he watched you giggle, feeling his heart warm at the sight of your toothy smile.

He glanced down towards the cup of chocolate ice-cream in his hands before outstretching it out to you. "Would you like to share?"

He watched you blink in surprise. "You want to share with me?"

Joshua nodded eagerly at your question. "Of course! We're friends now." He said, scooting a little closer to you. "Being friends means that we share everything! Including ice-cream." He glanced up at his mother. "Isn't that right, mum?"

His mother felt pride bloom in her chest at her son's words and actions before she nodded. "That's right, sweetheart."

Joshua smiled at his mother's answer before placing the cup of ice-cream between the two of you and offered you the first bite. You shyly take the spoon from him before you scooped up a small bit of the ice-cream and placed it into your mouth.

Your eyes widen at the burst of sweet flavours coating your tongue as Joshua let out a giggle as he watched you take more of the ice-cream before playfully telling you that you needed to share.

His mother's heart warmed at the sight of the two of you sharing that singular cup of chocolate ice-cream. She felt her lips tick upwards, a small smile gracing her face before she dialed the number on her phone.

Not more than twenty minutes later, your parents arrived, their faces etched with relief at the sight of you happily playing with a boy who looked slightly older than you were.

"Bunny!" The childhood nickname and voice made you perk up as you turned to see your parents race towards you. You jumped up, your heart beating fast as you met them halfway and jumped into your mother's warm embrace.

Your mother cried a little as she patted your head, smoothing out your hair as your father went up to Joshua's mother, shaking her hand and rapidly thanking her for taking such good care of their daughter.

Joshua felt himself internally wrestle with the feelings in his chest. He was happy that your parents were here to get you and you looked so relived that they did, but he wasn't sure if he was ever going to see you again. Him and his mother were leaving back to LA in a few days and they had a lot of plans.

A slight tug at his sweater brought him out of his thoughts as he noticed you were standing right in-front of him, your head tilted to the side as you gave him a quizzical look.

"Are you okay?" You asked, your voice soft and sweet which brought a smile to Joshua's face as he nodded, obscuring his sad emotions and thoughts from you.

"Of course!" He hummed out, glancing behind you to see your parents and his mother talking. "I'm glad your parents are here."

You nodded, a small smile on your face as silence enveloped the two of you.

"Will I ever see you again?" You asked him softly, your eyes locked with his as they shimmered with a pretty sparkle sheen. Joshua felt his heart sink at the question, knowing that he had just wondered that a few minutes ago before you brought him out from his thoughts.

"I'm not sure…" Joshua answered honestly, making you nod, a little sadly, a small pout forming on your lips. Joshua gave you a once over as your eyes stayed locked on your shoes, obviously a little sad that you had to go and you might never see the doe-eyed boy again when he got an idea.

He fished around his sweater pockets and pulled out the two white cherry blossoms that he had caught earlier in the day.

"Here." He said softly, outstretching one of the petals towards you. Your eyes widened as you glanced upwards at the taller boy. "Something to remember me by." You shakily take the petal from Joshua, running your fingers across the petals gently as Joshua held up his own.

"See, now we're matching." Joshua told you, a small on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. You continue to stare at the petal, stoning a little which made Joshua a little nervous. "Don't tell me you're going to miss me already?" Joshua joked, trying to lighten the mood as his nerves spiked from how you weren't looking at him.

He wanted to add on another light jab to lighten the mood when you surprised him by wrapping your arms around him, nearly tackling him to the ground. He let out a grunt as you hit his chest with a hard thud, almost knocking the air out his chest as he stabilized the two of you.

Joshua slowly wrapped his arms around you, feeling the sad emotions that he tried to push away, overwhelm him a little more as he felt your warmth envelope him.

"I'm going to miss you." He heard you mutter out, slightly muffled as you bury your head deeper into his woolly sweater. He sighed, burying his face into your hair.

"I'll miss you too, Bunny." He whispered out, using the nickname that he heard your mother call you by. It was really apt for you, with how soft spoken you were, how you quietly observed everything around you. Joshua couldn't help but feel that the nickname was just meant for you. That the word was designed just for you.

"Tell you what." Joshua started softly, pulling away from you a little to see your face. "For as long as you keep that petal." He gestured to the white cherry blossom in your hand. "I will always find you."

Your eyes widened at his words before you pulled away completely, lifting your hand up to the boy, with your pinky being the only finger out, waiting for the boy to give you a pinky promise.

"Swear on it!" Joshua couldn't help but laugh at the sight of you and how serious you were taking this, but, he lifted his own hand and joined his pinky with yours.

The childhood promise sealed between a six year old girl with the nickname Bunny and an eight year old boy who had eyes like Bambi.

"Can I call you Bambi?" You wondered aloud which made Joshua blink at you before he let out a soft laugh as he nodded. "Sure, Bunny."

The two of you let out a fit of giggles before your mother called for you, gesturing that you needed to go. You looked between her and your father before looking at the boy in-front of you, not wanting to leave so soon.

Joshua, however, sensed the hesitation in your figure. He didn't want you to leave yet either but it was getting late and he knew that your parents wanted to get you home and safe and make it up to you so he gave you a reassuring smile.

"You should go." He said softly, giving your head a small pat. "I'm sure your parents are taking you out to eat something really nice."

He watched you chew on your bottom lip before you nod and squeezed Joshua in one last hug before you step away from the boy.

"See you soon, Bambi."

Joshua's heart warmed at the nickname. "See you soon, Bunny."

You gave him one last glance over before you ran over to where your parents stood, taking your mother's hand into yours as Joshua's mother walked back over to his side.

You and your parents started to walk away, towards the pathway where the small stream and bridge were. Joshua felt his mother grab his hand and laced their fingers together but his focus remained on you and where you were.

He watched you take one last pause as you turned to look at him as you gave him one last wave which he returned, the smile on his face turning into a sadder one. With that, he watched you turn back around and exit the park with your parents, going the way that you had pointed out earlier when he had asked where you lived.

His heart felt heavy and he didn't know why. The two of you had just met. However, something told the eight year old boy that he would see you soon. He didn't know when or how but he had hope that he would. He had to.

"Ready to go?" His mother asked, the question gently coaxing the boy out of his thoughts. Joshua nodded, giving his mother a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Yeah." He softly admitted, letting himself take one last glance towards where you had been just moments ago. "Let's go."

Joshua felt around in his pocket as he gently caressed the white blossom in it as he and his mother exit the park. His wrist felt warm for some reason, but decided to attribute it to the sweater and moved on to wonder about something happier, like what he and his mother were going to have for dinner.

Unbeknownst to him, a few months later, he would find a small mark on his wrist that looked oddly like the white cherry blossom that he had given the little girl to make sure that she would always remember him.

What a twist of fate.

THE THING ABOUT SECOND CHANCES

The next time Joshua arrived in Seoul, he was eighteen years old.

Fresh out of high school and having just been scouted by Pledis Entertainment. He anxiously rubbed the white cherry blossom mark on his wrist, a habit that he picked up after it had appeared.

He didn't remember when it had appeared or why it did but after having so many talks with his mother and the doctor or specialist that his mother had taken him to. He had a soulmate, someone with a similar mark on their wrist.

Joshua had grown up hearing about soulmates from his mother. It wasn't uncommon to have a soulmate but only about fifty percent of the world had one. Joshua didn't know if it was luck or not to be one of the few to have one because he didn't even know who it was. He had a feeling he knew but he didn't know if he would ever see you again.

You plague his thoughts every once in a while. He isn't even sure if you remember him but he remembers you. The soft spoken girl from under the cherry blossom trees that he had given the white cherry blossom to. It had to be you and he had asked his mother to try and reach out to your father, the number having been dialed in her phone before but it seemed that when she did, your father had changed his number.

So he had lost all hope of ever getting into contact with you again. Until the Pledis global auditions came and now, he was actually in Korea.

He had been here for a few months, training tirelessly with the rest of his members and learning more Korean at the same time. It definitely wasn't as good compared to when he was younger but he felt himself getting better by the day with the help of Vernon and the other members who volunteered to teach him sometimes, in exchange for learning some english.

Safe to say, he might be doing better at learning Korean than the rest of his members who wanted to learn English. He chuckled a little at the memory as he prepared to go out for the day.

It was one of the rare few days off that the company had given them, having passed all the auditions to get into Seventeen and actually make the line-up. The company decided to give the day off before they needed to return to prepare even more tirelessly for their debut.

He fidgeted with the bracelet that his mother had given him, made out of white cherry blossom that he had caught that faithful day almost ten years ago.

"What are your plans for today?" Joshua turned, seeing Seungcheol leaning against the doorframe to his shared room with Seokmin and Seungkwan.

Joshua took a quick glance towards his wrist before his eyes flitted back up to meet Seungcheol's. "Thought about going to see the cherry blossoms today." Joshua answered coolly, a small smile on his face.

Seungcheol's eyes flit downwards to Joshua's wrist for a split second before he nodded towards it. "Hoping to see her again?"

Seungcheol and Jeonghan were the only two to know about Joshua's mysterious mark. Joshua hadn't meant for any of the members to find out, but he had been careless, and the makeup that he had put on the wrist had gotten wet by accident. He shouldn't have chosen to not use a waterproof concealer that day. It resulted in not only the general leader seeing the mark that stained his skin, but Joshua's evil twin as well.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan had pulled Joshua right after that to reapply the makeup, careful to not let the staff see them or the cherry blossom. Seungcheol shot the two of them a look which stated that they would talk about this later. Hence, Joshua instead told the both of them everything right after practice, in the safe space of Seungcheol and Jeonghan's dorm room that they shared with Mingyu and Jihoon.

The two of them had been understanding (to Joshua's delight) and also a little annoying about it (to Joshua's dismay). Jeonghan had taken the opportunity to do a small little jab every time one of the other members brought up even the idea of having a soulmate to the others.

Seungcheol would shoot a warning look towards Jeonghan the first few times it happened, but after many unsuccessful tries of getting Jeonghan to quit it, he decided to join him instead.

If you can't beat them, join them.

Joshua spared another glance towards his wrist. "Yeah." He answered truthfully. "It's been ten years but… I'm still holding out hope that I will."

Seungcheol was quiet at that, an unreadable expression on his face before he sighed. "Just… be careful." He sounds out, the double meaning of the sentence not lost on the younger man.

"I will." Joshua assured which makes Seungcheol look over him once more before nodding and leaving the room.

"Remember to bring an umbrella." Seungcheol called out from the hallway. "The forecast said that it's going to rain."

Joshua's eyebrows furrowed at his words, turning his head to look out at the bright clear sky that showed no signs of rain at all. Joshua let out a sigh as he shook his head. Seungcheol has definitely been spending too much time around Jeonghan. Hell, Jeonghan probably put him up to this to see if Joshua would actually bring an umbrella out because he knew better than to trust Jeonghan after the raincoat incident.

Joshua glanced at the umbrella at his desk before shaking his head at it and shouldering the sling bag that he had packed his camera into and wearing the bracelet that his mother made for him.

He stepped out of the dormitories, the sun greeting him with it's warm glow making him take a deep inhale of the spring air, feeling himself get more refreshed by the second. He smiled to himself as he started heading towards the park.

On a beautiful day like this… what could go wrong?

The answer was everything.

Absolutely everything.

The minute Joshua had arrived at the faithful park, the sky had dimmed and the beautiful morning that he had seen was immediately replaced with the darkest clouds the world has ever seen.

As soon as he stepped off the bus, it had started to drizzle and then it started to pour making Joshua realize that Seungcheol had been right. It was forecasted to rain today.

And when it rains, it certainly pours.

Which is how Joshua ended up here, underneath the faithful tree that had brought the two of you together that day and under the pouring rain. Spring rain was definitely a sight to see. It was his first time experiencing spring after he had moved to Korea but it was his second time overall. The first being ten years ago which was where he had discovered that he loved rain in the first place.

Joshua let out a sigh as he inhaled the smell of the rain, instantly feeling more relaxed than he did a few moments before. He really loved the rain. It was refreshing and walking in the rain was definitely an experience that makes him feel at peace.

His members called him crazy for that but there was just something about the rain that brought out the tranquility of his soul. It reminded him a lot of home and spring rain was definitely the best kind of rain that anyone can experience because April Showers had definitely become a favourite of his.

He felt the urge to go back out into the rain and just let it cascade down his body and hair when he was interrupted by the sounds of squeaky sneakers coming from behind him. He peered around the tree and noticed a girl, slightly younger than he was, dressed in a pink raincoat that had cherry blossom sketches around it and… bunny ears?

His eyebrows furrowed at the unique combination as he heard the girl huff out a breath.

"Stupid spring rain…" He heard the girl mutter as she ruffled her raincoat, trying to get the excess water off. "I normally really love you but I didn't want it to rain today…"

Joshua didn't know whether to be scared of the girl who was talking to herself but she looked like she was having a bad day. "Are you alright?"

The girl jumped at his sudden question, shocking her and himself as she places a hand over her heart.

"Geez, dude!" The girl yelled out. "Where did you come from?!"

Joshua blinked at the girl. "Erm." He looked around the two of them. "I was actually here first."

The girl blinked at him before giving him a deadpanned look. "Whatever, dude." She muttered out as she crouched down to play with the grass. "Stupid rain."

Joshua stared at the girl for a few more seconds. "Do you hate the rain or something?"

The girl scoffed at his words before shaking her head. "Not that it's any of your business." She began, poking around the grass still. "I actually really love the rain."

"Then why—"

"Because it's the start of the blossoms today." She softly admitted, picking up one of the semi-muddy cherry blossoms that had dropped off the tree because of the rain. "My mother really loves them and I wanted to take a few pictures of them to frame as a surprise for her birthday next week and today is the only free day that I have open."

Joshua took a few moments to digest the words coming out of the girl's mouth and let out a sound of understanding. "That's sweet." He said, making the girl let out a hum.

"Well, but the plan is ruined now…" She muttered out, losing more and more interest in the grass as the seconds whizz by. "I guess I won't be getting her a present this year."

Joshua frowned at the girls words, feeling slightly empathetic for the girl before his mother's teachings kicked into his being. He peered upwards at the sky, seeing it begin to clear slightly before turning back to the girl in distress.

"Does your mother like the spring rain too?" He found himself asking making the girl whip around, a frown etched onto her face as she tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"Yes." She frowned even more. "But I don't see how that would—"

"Give me your camera." Joshua finds himself saying, making the girl stare at him, slightly stunned.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, wondering if she had heard the boy wrong.

Joshua pointed at the camera in the girl's backpack. "What if we use your camera to frame you, the cherry blossoms and the ending of the spring rain in one picture?" He gestured to the clouds above as the rain starts to slow down. "The spring shower is ending soon and I think it will create the perfect opportunity for me to help you snap a photo because of the effect that the April shower will create."

He watched as the girl digested his words and the cogs turned in her brain before her eyes widened.

"You're a genius stranger!"

Joshua couldn't help but laugh at the nickname the girl gave him as they scrambled to get the shot set up.

By the time that the rain had almost totally slowed down, they were ready, with the girl's camera in Joshua's hands and the girl standing a little uncomfortably in the shot.

"Are you sure, she would want me to be in the photo?" The girl found herself asking the stranger in-front of her. "She might just want the April shower and cherry blossoms you know?"

Joshua shook his head stubbornly and surely. "I can assure you, this is the best present for her."

The girl shot him a skeptical look before begrudgingly accepting her fate and posed in-front of the cherry blossom tree with her pink bunny raincoat.

Joshua snapped a few shots here and there, giving her a bit of direction every now and then as he felt his synapses in his brain fire around it. The more that he looked at this girl, the more she looked kind of familiar to him.

He tried brushing that thought aside, thinking that he was crazy as he took one last final photo for the girl as the sky began to clear and the rain drizzled to the a stop.

"And…" Joshua trailed off, looking at the last photo that he took, a satisfied smile on his face. "We're done!"

The girl rushed over to Joshua's side, eager to see the photos that the boy had just taken. As she clicked through them, her eyes widened as they flitted between the camera screen and the boy standing next to her.

"Woah." She softly stated as she continued to flip through the photos. "These are really good." She turned to Joshua, a toothy grin on her face. "Thank you so much."

Joshua gave her a grin back as he shook his head. "Small thing." He said as he gestured to the photos. "You did all the hard work by modeling for it!"

The girl lets out a laugh as the sun peeked through the clouds that were still in the sky. She peered downwards at the watch that was on her wrist before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Well, I need to get going." She said, shutting her camera down and putting it into her backpack. "Thank you so much for helping me with this."

Joshua waved her off. "It was my pleasure."

"Is there anything that I can do to repay you?"

Joshua pondered for a moment before his mind went back to you which made him glance at the cherry blossom tree.

"Know any fun facts about cherry blossom trees?"

The girls eyebrows raised in response. "That's a weird question." She stated, giving him a weird side-eye. Joshua shrugged in response.

"I just like fun facts."

The girl stared at him for a few seconds before she opened her mouth and said, "Did you know that the the biggest cherry blossom capital in the world is actually in Macon, Georgia, which holds over three hundred thousand cherry trees?"

Joshua's eyes widened at her response. "Wait that's so interesting."

The girl gave him a satisfied smile, "My mother is a big cherry blossom nerd." She said, picking up her backpack. "She shares a lot of different fun-facts with me and also made me this."

She pulled out a pendant from inside her clothing that was tied to a necklace. Joshua gazed closer at the pendant as his eyes widened bigger.

"Is that a white cherry blossom infused into the resin and made into a pendant?"

The girl nodded proudly. "Yep!"

"That's insane." Joshua commended, taking a step away from the girl. "I really commend your mother."

"Yeah." The girl let out a satisfied hum. "She is pretty cool." The girl smiled at the fond memory of her mother giving her the necklace. "She made this necklace for me because some boy gave me this cherry blossom many years ago when they thought that I went missing or something."

Joshua felt his whole being freeze when she said that and blinked at the girl in-front of him who was fidgeting with the pendant around her neck.

"What?" He heard himself whisper aloud making the girl nod.

"Yeah, he was really sweet and nice and he apparently shared an ice cream with me." The girl took another glance at her watch before her eyes widened, becoming as big as saucers.

"Holy shit!" She yelled out as she slung her backpack across her shoulders. "I'm late!"

Joshua found himself panicking slightly. "Wait—" He said, trying to get your attention.

You, however, gave him one last smile before waving goodbye to him. "Thank you again for your help!"

Joshua felt the words on the tip of hid tongue, die in his throat as he watched you run away from him like your life dependent on it, making him sigh.

He huffed, running a hand through his semi-wet locks before his phone rang.

"Hello?" He answered, sighing as he heard Seungcheol's voice over the phone. "Yeah." He said, his gaze still fixed on the spot where you once were. "I'm on my way back. I'll see you and the rest in thirty."

Seungcheol let out a hum of understanding before he hung up the phone, leaving Joshua to his own thoughts as he went on auto-pilot and picked up his sling bag as he felt frustration course through his veins.

So much for second chances.

THIRD TIMES THE CHARM

On the spring of Joshua's twenty second birthday, he finds himself back underneath the faithful cherry blossom tree. The only difference is that it is eleven at night. He had just finished a team dinner with the rest of the group, celebrating a big win that they just had with the release of one of their newest albums. All that hard work and tireless preparations had paid off and they were now celebrating the fruits of their labour.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan were by Joshua's side when they had exited the restaurant but for some reason, Joshua felt a little bit restless, like something was tugging on his soul that he shouldn't go home just yet.

With that, Joshua bid the two older men goodbye and headed off to his safe space, a space that the members had coined as the soulmate spot after Joshua finally gained the courage to tell his members about his soulmate and the cherry blossom story that came with it.

Joshua leans against the tree that is still flourishing even though it was coming to the end of spring. The petals still had that sheen that told the story of the start of spring till nearly the end as they were going into fall, the week after next.

He sighs, feeling the restlessness start to seep away from his bones. Just being in this spot was comforting for him because he felt connected to you. After you had taken off that day four years ago, Joshua hadn't seen you since.

Not for the lack of trying as well.

Joshua had just gotten so wrapped up in the life of being an idol that he was traveling more often, spent a lot less time in Korea and he felt that each practice was more intense than the last.

He still tried to stick to his outstanding bi-weekly date that he had with the cherry blossom tree but with all the new promotions and practices that seemed to be popping up from left, right and center, he had definitely missed a few during the last four springs.

However, looking at how serene the park looked at night with the crackling streetlamps as well as the fairy lights that are no doubt a new addition, Joshua feels at peace at the fact that nothing else has changed about his favourite safe spot.

He had quite a few of them… one being a corner of the practice room where he always sat during the breaks with his earbuds in. Another being a corner in Jihoon's office that he uses whenever the world got too overwhelming (and that Jihoon let's him use by just pretending that he isn't there) and the last but definitely not the least, was the cherry blossom tree.

He closes his eyes, just taking in the ambience of the park and listening to the crickets chirping, the static flickering of the streetlamps and fairy lights and allowed himself to breathe.

He wasn't Joshua Hong, one of the two American members of Seventeen.

He was just, Joshua.

"Is this spot taken?" He hears someone softly ask from in-front of him. Joshua opens both his eyes to see a girl about his age, a hood obscuring most of her face as she leaned down slightly, no doubt to ask him the question.

Joshua panicked for a moment, wondering if the girl had noticed who he was but then remembered that he was wearing a baseball cap as well as a mask, concealing about sixty percent of his face.

He internally let out a breath of relief before shaking his head no as he gestures to the spot next to him. "You can sit if you like." Joshua states, not really sure of the words flowing out of his mouth at the moment.

On any other day, Joshua would've probably not offered the space next to him to a total stranger that he has never seen or met before. However, today had been a long day and his walls were all the way down after a long day of practice than the award show and then the team dinner.

If he wasn't feeling restless, he would've probably called it quits and been back at the dorm, in his comfy bed.

The stranger mutters out a small 'thank you' before plopping down next to him. The sound of the rustling plastic bag catches Joshua's attention, having not noticed the convenience store bag that the girl had in her right hand.

Joshua's eyes flit downwards to where his phone lied on his lap and did a quick click of the side button to see that it was 11:30pm. His eyebrows furrow as he looks back at the girl who takes out an aluminum wrapped roll of kimbap.

"Is that your dinner?" Joshua found himself asking, shocking himself and the stranger who gives Joshua a sideways glance before nodding her head. "Why are you eating so late?"

"You always ask this many questions to a stranger you don't know?" The girl replies after swallowing her first slice of the kimbap.

Joshua, a little taken aback by her question, lets out a low and tired chuckle as he shakes his head. "No." He answers honestly, "I was just wondering why a girl is wandering around at 11:30pm and eating a roll of kimbap underneath a cherry blossom tree with a stranger."

"Because this is my safe space." The girl admits nonchalantly, without a second thought as she eats another slice of her kimbap.

Joshua blinks a few times at the girl's answer. "Weird." He states. "This is my safe space too." He finds himself admitting, unsure why he is telling a random stranger. But it had been a long day and Joshua's guard is down.

At his words, the girl stops eating and turns her head towards him for a few seconds, analyzing him. "You always this trusting to strangers?"

Joshua scoffs, "You admitted that in a heartbeat as well, mind you."

The girl just shrugs and continues to munch on her kimbap as the wind breezes past them, making a few of the loose cherry blossom petals fall.

Joshua watches them slowly drift down, smiling a little to himself as it brings back memories of his first spring in Seoul.

"Did you know that there are over two hundred varieties of cherry blossom trees?" Joshua hears the girl mutter out making his eyebrows furrow, his brain synapses firing.

Has he heard this before?

"I did know that actually." Joshua admits, making his company let out a hum of acknowledgement. "Did you know that the cherry blossoms and their tea leaves are actually edible?"

He watches the girl nod, pulling down more of the aluminum foil to unwrap the last three slices of her kimbap. "They're used in like Japanese sweets, teas as well as desserts right?"

Joshua nods, closing his eyes. "My favourite is the sakura mochi."

There was silence for a few moments before the girl replied with a, "No way, that's mine as well."

Joshua hums. "You have good taste."

Joshua hears the girl beside him let out a laugh at his quip making his chest warm a little. The girls laugh reminded him of you in a way, the soft laugh that you had let slip past your lips four springs ago still etched in his mind.

"Did you also know that the the biggest cherry blossom capital in the world is actually in Macon, Georgia, which holds over three hundred thousand cherry trees?"

Joshua feels himself freeze at that statement. Now he had definitely heard that one before.

His eyes widen as he gets transported back to that faithful day under the rain where his soulmate had slipped through his fingers for the second time in his life.

You continue to yap on about fun facts that your mother had shared with you about cherry blossoms, unsure of why you were telling a random stranger this information, but it was a long day and this stranger felt… safe to you?

You couldn't explain why.

"Did you know that some varieties have more than five petals for their blossoms? Like the Kanzan can have up to twenty-eight petals per flower? That makes it look so much fuller with a pom-pom like appear—"

"Bunny?"

You pause your tangent upon hearing the childhood nickname that your mother still uses every now and then, feeling your blood run a little cold at the stranger saying it.

You whip your head towards the stranger who is now sitting fully up-right and facing you as your eyebrows furrow. "Why did you—"

The stranger doubles down and whispers out your name, making you freeze as you scoot back a little, fearful for your life now. The one time you choose to trust a stranger and it turns out that he might be a stalker?

How low is your social awareness that you didn't seem to realize that the man beside you might've been stalking you all this time? Were you about to die? How were you going to get out of this? What was the best exit—

Your spiral gets interrupted when the stranger removes his cap and mask, allowing you to see the bambi doe-eyes that you have been dreaming about for the last few springs. The warmth and comfort in them, still as persistent as you remember.

"Bambi?" You breathe out, the nickname that you gave him when you were six, rolling off your tongue easier than you thought it would. "Joshua, is that you?"

Joshua nods eagerly, seemingly frozen in place as he watches you take him in before you jump into him. He catches you easily, seemingly a little more prepared than the last time when he was eight years old as he buries his face into your hair, just like he did that day, fourteen years ago.

"I can't believe I found you again." He mutters out into your hair as he feels you let out a watery laugh into his sweater that he was wearing. He pulls away a little, noticing that your hair is a little ruffled from the hoodie being launched off after you had jumped into him. He feels you shiver a little and goes to pull the hoodie back up for you to protect your ears when he notices the bunny ears sewed onto the hood.

A wide grin appears on his lips as he internally shakes his head at the fact that he didn't notice them before, deeming it to the long day that he just had.

"I've only seen you on television." Is the first words to come out of your mouth after the whole affair, which makes Joshua giggle as he pulls away fully to look you in the eyes. "That's the first thing you say to me, your soulmate, after years of not seeing each other?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his dramatic outburst as you pull him back in for another hug, the necklace that you are wearing, the pendant hitting him in the chest, which makes a smile adorn his face at the memory of what the pendant is made out of.

The two of you stay like that for a few moments more before you pull away to get a good look at Joshua's face. You were telling the truth, you had only seen Joshua through YouTube videos and whenever the various Music Award Shows were on, always silently cheering him on.

You had recognized him after they had their first debut show on TV, the doe-eyes immediately speaking to you as he came onto stage. You had know that you were his soulmate, right after the mark had appeared on your arm ages ago.

Your parents also had a long talk with you about it but after your father's phone had gotten smashed during a really bad day of work, there was no way to contact him or his mother. So, you went the next ten years not knowing if Joshua had remembered you, the weirdly dressed girl with bunny ears and soft toy.

Until that april shower when you were sixteen, you didn't realize you were talking to him until you were twenty blocks away from the park, eager to get to your next tutoring teacher's class.

You had cursed yourself for being a little too oblivious but as you stared at the white mark on your wrist, you realized that the timing probably wasn't right just yet for the two of you and you just needed to wait for fate to push you both together once again.

That faithful day is today.

"No." You answer truthfully, shaking your head at Joshua's question. "I think our first order of business should be to get each other's numbers so that we don't have to wait for fate to bring us dumbasses back together for the fourth time."

Joshua lets out a laugh at your answer, nodding with a cheeky grin on his face. "They do say third time's the charm."

You roll your eyes at his cliche answer but deep down you silently agreed with it.

Maybe it truly is, third time's the charm.

THE GOING SEVENTEEN TWIST

"Ugh." You mutter out, messing with the bunny patterned mask on your face, getting a little frustrated with how hot it is underneath the mask. "I don't get why we need to keep wearing a mask if your company has booked out the entire park for your Going Seventeen episode."

Joshua lets out a chuckle at your frustrations as he rubs your forearm soothingly, a tactic that he picked up a few years ago when he realized that it was the fastest way to calm you down (other than food of course).

"Well," Joshua starts, adjusting his own mask and cap in the process. "We rented out the park but that doesn't mean the general public still won't recognize us because the area isn't covered."

You let out a huff, knowing that he is right.

"It also doesn't help that Hoshi yells like a maniac and gathers the attention of said general public." You mutter, making Joshua laugh at your whines.

He looks around before lowering his mask to give you a small kiss to the top of your head before pulling it back up, just as one of the managers calls for him.

He spares the manager a quick glance before his attention is back on you, to make sure that you are okay with him leaving.

"Go." You assure him, nudging him slightly in the direction where the manager is waiting for him. "I've been around these shoots long enough to know the procedure by now."

Joshua's eye lines crinkle, a sign that he is smiling as he nods.

You weren't wrong, you had been coming to the Going Seventeen shoots for almost the entirety of your relationship with Joshua. The two of you weren't really public but you two weren't private either.

Your relationship wasn't a secret and Joshua had brought you up a few times before, mentioning you here and there in some interviews that he has done with Vogue or Cosmopolitan.

You had also become a small little mention in the Going Seventeen videos where sometimes Joshua would let something small about you slip past his lips. It was a routine at this point and the fans had been using this to their advantage, creating many different videos such as; "A compilation of all the times Joshua has mentioned Bunny" or "Joshua being the biggest simp for his girlfriend/soulmate for 4 minutes and 48 seconds."

But, it was good.

The fans had accepted that the two of you are together and Joshua was more open with his soulmate mark and talking about you now to the point where he doesn't conceal the white cherry blossom mark on his wrist anymore.

Now he wears it with pride, just like the bracelet that ties the both of you together.

You fidget with your pendant, recalling all those memories with a smile. Thanking the universe for bringing the two of you together that day eight years ago.

"Right!" One of the directors call out, knocking you out of your thoughts as you move from yours and Joshua's cherry blossom tree, realizing that they are about to begin their filming.

Joshua appears beside you, moments later looking more dolled up and refreshed compared to half an hour ago making you grin as you notice his hair sticking up slightly.

Without a word, you step forward to him, his arms wrapping around your waist habitually as you fix your eyes on the cow-lick in his hair. You brush it down, not noticing the way that Joshua is watching you as you fixate on his hair, brushing it till it looks perfect for the shoot that they are doing today.

"What's the shoot for today?" You ask him, softly, fixing a few strands of stray hairs that the stylist didn't manage to get. Joshua let out a hum, his hands warm on your waist.

"We're filming something special." Joshua admits shyly. "That's why I asked you to get a little more dolled up than usual today."

He had told you that the night before. It was unusual for Joshua to be this quiet about the shoots that he and the rest of the members were meant to film. Joshua would at least tell you beforehand what the shoot was about and the premise of it but for this particular shoot, he had been quiet.

All the information you had was that you might have to appear once or twice as emotional support for your boyfriend. The rest of the members had also brought along their significant others or girlfriends as well and when you had asked them about what the shoot would be, they had side-eyed each other and shook their heads, seemingly not knowing what it was as well.

"You've been acting weird lately." You mutter out to your boyfriend, messing with one last stubborn strand of hair that was sticking upwards. You side-eyed your boyfriend, "You aren't doing a secret horror episode today are you? You can't do that in our safe space."

Joshua lets out a laugh at your imagination before shaking his head, a big toothy grin on his face. "I love your imagination sometimes, Bunny."

You raise an eyebrow at his words. "Yet," you start. "You did not deny it."

Joshua gives you a mischievous grin, that you have seen one too many times making you roll your eyes at how mysterious your boyfriend was being.

"I guess you just have to wait and see."

"Fine." You relent, finally get that strand of hair to get down. "Keep your secrets."

Joshua leans in closer to you, surprising you a little as you watch his eyes scan your face, from the top of your forehead, to the slope of your nose to your chewed lips that you had been gnawing on since you had arrived because you weren't sure what to expect today.

You feel your cheeks heat up from how intense his gaze is before he surprises you once more by leaning in and giving you a peck on the lips, a lovesick grin on his lips right after he does.

You blink at your boyfriend, unsure of how to react to the quick peck. The two of you had set boundaries beforehand about PDA and everything else that was related to the public.

Kissing or pecks were a gray zone in a sense where you could do it but only if the members, cameras as well as the rest of the world was not around.

However, Joshua broke that rule today by kissing you in the middle of the set where everyone can see.

"Did you just…" You trail off making Joshua nod, seemingly more relaxed than you are.

"Yeah."

"But—"

"I just wanted to." He nonchalantly admits, shrugging his shoulders as he does so. "You looked so cute focusing on me that I wanted to kiss you as soon as you were almost done fixing my hair."

"Your hair is done by the way." You admit, the words coming out of your mouth faster than you could have processed them, making Joshua bark out another laugh at how slow your brain was comprehending information.

"I love you." Joshua admits softly, after he was done laughing. Your heart warms at his words as you give a once over to the set before leaning in to give Joshua a peck.

"I love you more."

The producer of the episode immediately signals that it is time to start filming making you step away from your boyfriend's embrace as you give him a confident smile that tells him that he's got this.

Joshua gives you a smile before nodding and making his way over to the rest of his members.

You, on the other hand, walk towards the rest of the girlfriends who were engaging in some other small talk. They made room for you and were talking about the newest thrills that their boyfriend seem to have been into when a producer calls your name.

You perk up, slightly confused as to why you were being called out for until you realize that Joshua is standing in-front of your cherry blossom tree, with his hands behind his back.

"Before we begin today's filming." The producer starts, looking between you and Joshua. "Joshua would like to say a few words before we kick-off this weeks filming." He turns to Joshua with a big smile on his face before passing him the microphone.

Joshua clears his throat before speaking into the microphone.

"Bunny." He softly calls out making you peer out of the area you were sitting in. "Could you please come forward to where I am?"

You skeptically look at the love of your life but proceed to join Joshua at the front. As soon as you had moved there, you immediately ask a slew of rapid questions to your boyfriend to which he only replied with his shinning smile.

"Bunny." Joshua breathes out, turning to face you completely as he blocks out the rest of the world. "When I first saw you at the age of eight, I thought you were the biggest crybaby on the planet."

You feel your cheeks heat up as he says that, about to retort when he beats you to it.

"However, you were so unique and different that I was intrigued by you." Joshua softly admits, "I spent majority of my life searching for you ever since I had gotten this mark that ties us together and every time I tried, the universe always had something to say about it until that day where you had stumbled under the cherry blossom tree to eat kimbap at 11:30pm." That got a few giggles from the Going Seventeen team as Joshua continues. "I always knew that something in my life was missing. I've known that since I was eight years old and after I met you, I realize that you are the missing piece that I've been waiting for."

Your eyes widen as you realize why he is saying all these things.

He pulls out a velvet box from behind him and looks at you with the doe-eyes that you had grown to love more and more, everyday of your relationship.

"You complete me and my life, Bunny." Joshua softly admits, rolling the velvet box in his hand as he locks eyes with you, making you pulse quicken as you realize that he is about to do it. "So," Joshua starts, handing the microphone to you before he gets down on one knee, making you let out a gasp you didn't know you were holding. "Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?"

"Yes." You breath out into the microphone. "A thousand times yes."

A toothy grin appears on Joshua's face before he launches himself forward slightly and captures your lips with his, making your heart soar at the thought of calling Joshua your fiance.

The two of you pull away, hearing all the loud cheers and whistles from the Seventeen members, their significant others as well as the staff members on set which makes you giggle a little.

"So the whole shoot is a lie?" You softly ask making Joshua nod his head. "We just needed to get you down to this location so we disguised it as a shoot because if we had told you anything else, you would've figured out the surprise."

His words make you warm as you shake your head, a soft smile on your face.

"You're such a nerd."

"I am your nerd for the rest of your life." Joshua goofily admits making you roll your eyes, a small giggle escaping your lips as you tighten your grip around him, "Hello, fiance." You softly say, looking up at Joshua who peers downwards at you, the grin on his face never fading. "Hello to you too, fiancee."

You peer downwards at the box that Joshua is holding, making you clear your throat as you fixated him with a mischievous grin.

"So are you going to put the ring on me or what?"

THE FUTURE UNDER THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS

"And that is the story of how your mummy and daddy met and got married before we had you guys." Joshua finishes as his daughter bounces slightly on his lap. "The End!"

"Do you think I will ever get a soulmate, daddy?" His daughter asks, her bambi, doe eyes shining and making Joshua's heart melt.

"Of course, sweetheart." Joshua admits, giving his daughter a little once over as the wind blows past them, making the cherry blossoms fall of the tree. "If you are anything like your mother, you will definitely get one, baby."

"What lies are you feeding our daughter this time?"

Joshua looks up, spotting you waddle over to the picnic blanket and his heart soars even more. "No lies." He admits, the mischievous grin on his face never fading. "Just telling her how you were absolutely in-love with me when we first met."

You roll your eyes at your husbands words as he gestures for you to take a seat next to him. "That's such a lie." You breath out, looking straight at your husband. "We both know it was you who was in love with me the first time we both met."

Joshua barks out a laugh as your daughter stands up from his lap, in awe of the pretty cherry blossoms that are cascading down.

"Mummy! Daddy!" She exclaims. "Look!"

The two of you share a quick glance at each other and smile. "Aren't they pretty, baby?" You ask her making her nod, her doe eyes still shimmering as she tries to catch one of the blossoms.

"Did you know that there are two hundred different variants of cherry blossoms trees, baby?" Joshua asks your daughter making the little girl stop her jumping as her eyes grew as big as saucers.

"That's bigger than the numbers we're learning in class right now!"

You couldn't help but laugh at her answer, shaking your head as the fond memories begin to flood your mind.

"Is that where you got my name from, mummy?" You tilt your head to the side as you take a quick glance at Joshua.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

"Well, my name is Cherry. Did you name me after the pretty trees?" Joshua grins at his daughters question and nods fondly.

"Yes." He admits. "We did because you're so precious to us and we can't wait to see you blossom and grow."

"Would I become as pretty as the pretty flowers?" Cherry asks making Joshua scoff as he grabs her and pulls her back into his lap.

"Cherry." Joshua coos, patting her head. "You're going to be prettier than any other flower that will ever grow, you know why?"

Cherry shook her head before Joshua locked eyes with you. "Because the reason of how your name came to be and the story behind it, is the best and prettiest thing that we could've ever asked for."

@livmarauder2026 Thank you guys so much for reading my spring collab fic! Be sure to check out all the other amazing works that this collab has to offer! New fics should be hitting tumblr very very soon... Like my work? Join my Permanent Taglist! All my fics are 18+, which means blogs without age or age indicator will not be tagged! If you like this, please consider reblogging or liking! It really makes my day! <3 Thank you for showing loverboy joshua so much love!

The first time you saw him you didn’t know his name, only that he didn’t look at you the way everyone else did.

The countryside air felt different than the city: cleaner, lighter, like it didn’t matter who you were. No chauffeurs. No bodyguards hovering nearby. No one following behind you like shadows. For the first time in your life you felt normal. Not the child of the family that owned Pledis Industries. Not the face plastered across city billboards and magazine covers. Not someone people bowed to before they spoke. Just you.

You slowly exhale as you walk along the wooden fence, fingers brushing against the rough splintered surface. The fields stretched endlessly, which had a golden glow by the late afternoon sun. Horses lazily grazed, their tails hitting at flies, movements calm and unbothered.

Free.

You envied that.

“You’re going to get splinters if you keep doing that.” The voice startled you. You quickly turned and that's when you saw him. He stood a few feet away, one hand resting on the fence post, the other holding a rope. His clothes were simple and worn at the edges, dust clung to the fabric like it belonged there. There was a light smudge of dirt across his cheek, and his hair was slightly damp, like he’d been here for hours under the sun. But his eyes, they weren’t impressed. They weren’t curious. They weren’t calculating your worth like everyone else did. They were just…looking at you like you were normal.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, pulling your hand back. “I didn’t realize.”

“It's fine.” His voice was calm and kind. “Just didn’t think you looked like someone used to this kind of place.” Your heart stuttered. You forced a small laugh. “ What does that mean?” He shrugged, a faint smile tugging his lips. “You look like you don't belong here.” If only he knew. “I do,” you said a little too quickly. “I mean I’m staying nearby just for a while.”

Not a lie. Not exactly.

His eyes lingered on you longer than it should have, like he was trying to figure something out, but then he nodded. “Then you should stay away from Ling Chao,” he said, gesturing behind him. You followed his gaze. A tall horse stood a short distance away, its dark coat gleaming in the sunlight. It looked beautiful, powerful but there was something sharp in the way it moved, something restless.

“He bites.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

That made him let out a soft laugh.

“I’m serious,” he added, stepping past you and walking toward the horse with easy familiarity. “Ling Chao doesn’t like strangers.” You watched as he approached it slowly, steady, and unafraid. The horse shifted, ears flicking back for a moment, but when he reached out it stilled. Calmed. Like it trusted him. “See?” He murmured his voice quieter now, meant for the animal more than you. His hand moved gently along its neck. “Not so bad.”

Something tightens in your chest. “Do they all listen to you like that?” You asked before you could stop yourself. He glanced back in surprise. “Not all of them,” he said. “You don’t make them listen, you just need to…understand them.”

Understand.

The word lingered between you. You wondered what it would be like to be understood that easily. Not having to explain who you were, what you carried, and what people expected of you.

“What’s your name?” You softly ask. He hesitated. For a second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Junhui. But everyone calls me Jun.” The name settled into you like it had always belonged there. “Yours?” You felt your throat tightened. For a moment, just for a moment you almost told him. Almost gave him the name that followed you everywhere. The one printed on contracts and headlines. Instead you smiled.

“It’s…Lemon.”

“What? That’s not your name.”

“It is because my mom was obsessed with them.”

Not a lie, but not the truth either. Jun nodded, accepting it without a question. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? To him, you were just a girl standing by a fence, afraid of splinters and curious about horses. Not someone who lived in a glass tower and spent hours in boardrooms. Not someone who belonged to a world that would never accept someone like him.

“Come here,” he suddenly stepped to the side. “Slowly.” You blinked. “What?”

“He won’t bite if I’m here,” Jun added, gesturing for you to approach. “Probably.”

“Probably?” You said, eyes widening.

That made him laugh, the sound warm in a way you weren’t used to. “Do you trust me?” He asked. The question hits harder than it should have. You didn’t trust anyone. Not fully. Not in a world where every smile had a motive and every conversation had a price. But standing here, in the sunlight with the smell of hay and earth in the air and a boy who looked at you like you were nothing special.

You wanted to. Slowly, you stepped forward. “Like this?” You asked. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Don’t be scared.” Easy for him to say. But as you reached out hesitantly your fingers brushed against Ling Chao’s coat. It didn’t bite. It didn’t pull away. It just stayed. Warm. Steady. Real. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jun watched you, something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

“See?” He murmured.

And for the first time in a while you smiled without thinking about it.

Neither of you noticed the car waiting down the road. Didn’t see the suited men watching from a distance, speaking in low, urgent voices. Didn’t hear the name they whispered like it carried weight.

Your real name.

The one Junhui would learn soon enough. The one that would change everything.

The sun hadn’t fully risen when you slipped out, the sky was painted in soft shades of blue and gold. The estate was quiet behind you, everyone who resided in your family’s countryside home were still asleep, staff, security, and expectations all momentarily out of reach.

Out here you could breathe, you could pretend.

The grass was damp beneath your shoes as you made your way toward the stables, the faint sound of movement already drifting through the air. He was there. Of course he was. Jun stood inside one of the stalls, sleeves rolled up, gently brushing down a white horse. His movements were slow, practiced like he did this a thousand times and still treated it with care.

You lingered at the entrance for a second just watching. There was something…grounding about him. No rush. No performance. No hidden agenda. Just quiet. “You’re staring again.” His voice startled you slightly. Jun didn’t even look up, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I wasn’t…” you started then stopped realizing how obvious it sounded. He glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. You sighed. “Okay, maybe I was.” That earned you a small smile. “Couldn’t stay away?” He asked. Your heart fluttered at the way he said it light, teasing, but not entirely a joke.

“I like it here.” You said instead, stepping closer. “It’s peaceful.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” he replied. “Most people call it boring.”

“Most people don’t know what they are talking about.”

Jun huffed softly, turning back to the horse. “Careful,” he said. “You’re starting to sound like you belong here.” The words hit deeper than he intended. You didn’t respond right away because you didn’t belong here, not really.

This was temporary. A pause in your life. A stolen moment before you were pulled back into a life you didn’t choose. But standing here, watching him, hearing the quiet rhythm of brushing and soft noises from the horse you wished you did.

“Can I help?” you asked. Jun paused. This time he fully turned to look at you, eyes scanning your outfit clean and simple, but a little too polished for this place. “Have you ever done this before?” He asked.

You hesitated. “No.”

“I figured.”

There was no judgement in his voice, just honesty. He studied you for another second, then stepped aside holding the brush out. “Fine. But don't blame me if you mess it up.” You took it carefully, fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment. Warm. You ignored the way your stomach flipped. “Like this?” You asked, copying what you’d seen him do. “Slower,” he said, getting closer behind you.

Too close.

You could feel him now, the warmth of his presence, the faint scent of hay and sun and something distinctly him. “Not like you're scrubbing the floor,” he added, reaching around you to guide your hand. Your breath caught. His hand closed over yours gently, adjusting the grip, slowing your movement. “Gentle,” he murmured. “They don't like being rushed.”

Neither did you.

Time seemed to stretch, the world disappearing to the soft sound of the brush, the steady breathing of the horse, and the warmth of his hand over yours. You didn’t realize how still you were until he spoke again.

“You’re overthinking it.”

”I’m not.” you said quickly.

“You are.”

You turned your head slightly to catch his expression. There was a hint of a smile there. A knowing one. “Do you always get this serious over small things?” He asked. You almost laughed. If only he knew. “This isn't small,” you said quietly. “It matters if I do it right.” Jun’s expression shifted just a little. Something softer. “You don't have to be perfect at everything,” he said. The words landed heavier than he could ever imagine.

Because in your world you did. Or at least, you expected to be. The perfect daughter, the perfect image, with the ‘perfect’ future. Anything less wouldn’t be acceptable. “I know,” you said, though it came out weaker than intended. Jun didn’t push. Instead he let go of your hand, stepping back just enough to give you space. “See?” He said, “You're doing fine.” You looked down at the horse, at the steady rhythm you found.

You were.

And for once, it wasn’t because someone demanded it of you. It was because you wanted to. A smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks.” He nodded, casually leaning against the stall door. For a while neither of you spoke. And it wasn’t awkward. It was…easy.

“You don’t talk much about yourself.” His voice broke the silence. You paused mid brush. “What do you mean?” Jun shrugged. “I’ve told you about this place. The horses. My work.” He tilted his head slightly. “But you? You don’t really say anything.” You gripped the brush tightly.

“There’s not much to tell,” you said.

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

He looked at you again, that same thoughtful look from yesterday returning. “You’re not just someone staying nearby,” he said. Your chest tightened. “I can tell.” You started to panic slightly. “Why does it matter?” You asked, a little defensive. Jun didn’t react to your tone. “I want to know a little bit about the person I’m talking to,” he simply said. And there it is. The problem. He thought he was getting to know you. But the version of you standing there wasn’t the whole truth. Not even close. “I’m just…me.” You quietly said. Jun held your gaze.

For a long moment neither of you looked away. Then slowly nodded. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” Relief washed over you, but it didn’t feel good. Because for the first time you realized something unsettling. You didn’t want him to just take your word for it. You wanted him to actually know you. All of you. And still look at you the same way.

From the outside, near the edge of the property a man lowered his binoculars. “She’s here again, " he said into the phone. He paused then quietly “…with him.” On the other end the response was immediate. Cold. Decisive. “Don’t interfere yet.” The man glanced back toward the stables, where your laughter was soft, rare, and real drifting into the air. “Just watch.”

Inside, you handed the brush back to Jun. “Am I hired yet?” You tease lightly. He scoffed. “You’re a long way from that.”

“Wow. Tough critic.”

”Someone has to be.”

You smiled. And for a moment, just for a moment everything felt simple. Like maybe, somehow this could last. It couldn’t and neither of you knew that.

Two weeks had passed. You didn’t hesitate. “You’re late.” Jun didn’t even look at you as you approached, his attention focused on correcting the saddle. You frowned. “I am not late.” He glanced up, unimpressed.

“The sun's already up.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m late.”

”It does here.”

You crossed your arms. “You didn’t give me a time.”

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t one.” You stared at him for a second and then huffed.

“You’re impossible.”

”And yet you’re still here.” He shot back easily. You had no response to that which annoyingly made him right. ”What are you doing?” You asked, stepping closer to the horse he was preparing. “Getting Ling Chao ready.”

“For?”

Jun paused, then looked at you, really looked at you this time, like he was deciding something. “Have you ever ridden before?” Your silence answered for you. He sighed, shaking his head. "Of course you haven’t.”

“Hey” you started.

“Come here.”

You blinked. “That’s not very encouraging.”

“Do you want to learn or not?”

You hesitated. More than you probably should. “Yes.”

“This is a bad idea.” You muttered. Jun didn’t agree. He doesn’t agree either. He just stood beside you, one had steady on Ling Chao and the other held out. “Foot here,” he said, tapping the stirrup. You stared at it like it may betray you. “This thing looks taller than it did yesterday.”

“It didn’t grow overnight.”

“You don’t know that.” That earned you a quiet laugh.

“You’re overthinking again.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

You glared at him. He only raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Annoying.

With a deep breath, you placed your foot where he showed you, gripping awkwardly as you tried to pull yourself up. It didn’t go smoothly.

“Wait…wait …” You lost balance and tipped but before you could panic a hand caught your waist. Firm. Steady. “Relax,” Jun said, his voice closer now. “You’re fighting it.”

“I’m not fighting it, I’m trying not to die.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“You don’t know that.” Another quiet softer laugh this time. “I do.”

With his help, you managed to get on the horse. Barely. You sat stiffly, hands gripping the front of the saddle like it was the only thing keeping you alive. “This feels unsafe,” you immediately say. “You’re not even moving yet.”

“That’s the worst part.” Jun stepped back crossing his arms as he looked at you. “You trust me, right?” The question came too easily. Too casually. And yet it landed the same way as it had before. You swallowed. “I’m on the horse, aren’t I?” He smiled at that. Small. Real. “Good,” he said. “Because I’m letting go.”

“Wait what?”

The horse shifted slightly beneath you. You froze.

“Junhui.”

“You’re fine.”

“I’m not fine.”

“You are.”

Your grip tightened. Your heart pounded. And then slowly the horse began to move. Just a step. Then another. Careful. You sucked in a sharp breath. “I hate this.” You whispered.

“No you don’t”

“Yes I do.”

“You’re still here.”

You glanced down at him. He walked beside you one hand loosely near the reins, not fully touching, but close enough that you knew he would if you needed him. Like he trusted you but wouldn’t let you fall. “Okay” you admitted after a moment. “Maybe, I don’t hate it.”

“Told you.”

“Don’t get used to being right.”

“Too late.”

After a while, the fear faded, not fully but enough. Enough for you to notice how the world looked from up here. Higher. Wider. Free. A breathy laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Junhui glanced up, catching it. “There it is.”

“What?”

“That look.“

You frowned slightly. “What look?”

“Like you forgot something.” You blinked. “What do you mean?” He shrugged, looking ahead again. “Like whatever you carry around all the time,” he said. “It’s gone for a second but then it always comes back.” Your chest ached because he was right. Up here with him you weren’t thinking about expectations, or your family or the version of yourself people expected. You were just here. “I wish it could stay like this,” you said quietly. The words came out before you could stop yourself. Jun did answer right away. When he did it was hushed. “Then stay.” Your breath caught while looking down at him again. “Jun.” He didn’t look at you this time.

“People leave all the time,” he added almost like it didn’t matter. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You didn’t know how to explain something you weren’t allowed to choose. “I…” you started. Tell him. Tell him the truth. “I don't know if I can.” That was the closest you got.

Jun nodded once like he expected that answer, “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Figured.” The air shifted just slightly but enough.

Later when he helped you down your foot slipped. You stumbled forward and he caught your fall. You looked into his beautiful brown eyes and neither of you moved. Your hands grabbed onto his shirt, steadying yourself. His hands on your waist neither letting go. Your breath hitched. His did too. You could feel it right there between you something changing. Something neither of you knew how to name.

“Careful.” He said but he wasn’t teasing this time. It was quieter, rougher. Your heart raced. “Sorry.” you whispered but didn’t move. Neither did he.

And for a moment the world felt dangerously small like it narrowed down just to this. Then, a distant sound broke through. A car. Too clean. Too out of place. Too familiar. You pulled back first. The moment ruined. Jun’s hand dropped. Your heart didn’t.

From the road, just beyond the fields a black car came into view and suddenly everything you’ve been avoiding was catching up to you. The car didn’t stop. Sleek, black and out of place against the dirt roads, and open fields, but there with a purpose. Your stomach dropped. No. No, no not yet. Jun followed your gaze, brows pulling together slightly. “You know them?” You didn’t answer. Because you did. Too well.

The doors to the car opened. A man stepped out, dressed sharp, his presence cutting through the quiet countryside like it shouldn’t be there. Because it didn’t. Because you didn’t. “Miss Y/N.” Your heart stopped. Jun’s head turned toward you slowly. Miss Y/N. You felt the shift. It was subtle but there. The beginning of soothing breaking. “I told you not to come here,” you said under your breath, panic now rising. “We don't have time for this,” the man replied, voice low but firm. “Your father’s waiting.”

Jun went completely still beside you. “Your father?” He repeated. You closed your eyes for a second. There it was. You quickly turned to him. “I can explain..” But the man spoke again, cutting you off. “The car is ready, we need to leave. Now.”

Now. Not later. Not soon. Now. There was a heaviness in your chest. You looked back at Jun and the look on his face made it worse. Confusion. Suspicion. Distance forming already. “I have to go,” your voice unsteady. “Go where?” He asked. “To the city.” The words felt heavy. Different. Jun’s gaze sharpened. “Why?” Because I live there. Because everything I didn’t tell you is waiting for me there. Because I lied. “I-” Your voice caught. “It’s complicated.”

“Then make it simple.” The tone of his made your heart hurt. You stepped closer to him, lowering your voice. “Jun please. Just listen to me.” He didn’t move nor did he step closer. Didn’t meet you halfway. But he didn’t walk away either. “I didn’t mean to lie to you,” you quickly said words tumbling over each other. “I just…I didn’t know how to tell you without….without ruining everything.” His jaw tightened.

“So you decided not to tell me at all.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?”

You didn’t say anything. Because how could you explain something that sounded so selfish when said aloud? “I just wanted…” You swallowed hard. “I wanted you to see me as me.” Jun let out a quiet humorless breath. “Did I?” That hurt more than anything else he could have said. “Jun nothing about this…about us was fake. I swear.” He looked at you, really looked at you. Like he was searching for something or trying to decide if it was worth it.

Behind you the man’s voice came again, sharper this time. “We’re leaving.” Your time was gone and panic surged through you. “No wait,” you said, turning back to Jun. “There’s something I need to tell you.” His expression didn’t change. But he didn’t stop you. You took a breath and stepped closer. “I don’t know when I’m coming back,” you admitted, your voice shaking now. “And I don't want to leave things like this.”

Silence stretched between you.

The wind picked up slightly, rustling through the fields, through the space between you that felt too wide. “I know I messed up,” you said softly. “I know I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning. But…what I feel…” your voice broke. Say it. Now or never. “What I feel isn’t a lie.” Jun’s gaze flickered just slightly. You took another step forward. Close enough that if he reached out he could touch you.

“Junhui I-”

“Miss Y/N.”

The interruption was sharp this time. Final. You flinched. Time snapped you back into place. The man had stopped just a few feet away now, his presence looming impatient watching. Waiting. Your throat tightened.

You looked back at Jun and something in his expression had closed off. Not completely but enough to make you hesitate. Enough to make the words feel heavier. Harder. “What?” He said quietly. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t encouraging. It was guarded. Like he was already preparing himself for what you were about to say your chest ached.

“I-” the words got stuck. Because suddenly it wasn’t just about how you felt. It was about everything you hadn't said. Everything you hid. Everything that made you you. And for the first time you were scared that if you said it now he wouldn’t believe you.

“I have to go,” you whispered instead. The moment slipped through your fingers. Gone. Jun didn’t stop you. Didn’t reach for you. Didn’t say your name. He just stood there watching. You took a step back then another, each one heavier than the last.

Right before you turned away, you forced yourself to look at him one more time. The way sunlight hit his face. The way his expression stayed unreadable even now. The way he didn’t come after you. “I’ll come back,” you said even though you didn’t know if it was true. His jaw tightened slightly. But he didn’t respond.

The car door closed behind you with a quiet final sound. And just like that the world you had here disappeared. As the car pulled away you turned, pressing your hand lightly against the window. Jun was still there standing where you left him. Getting smaller, until he was gone.

Back in the empty field Jun exhaled slowly, his hands curled at his sides. Miss Y/N. The words echoed in his mind over and over. He looked down at the ground, where you had been standing at the faint imprint of your footsteps in the dirt. “Who are you?” He muttered under his breath. And somewhere between the countryside and the city you realized the truth too late. You didn’t just leave without telling him who you were. You left without telling Junhui you loved him.

A few years later

The first thing you noticed was the horse.

Not him.

The city was loud, always loud. Cameras, voices, engines, and heels against the marble floors. It never stopped. It never lets you stop. But today was different. Today, everything was organized. Perfect. It was the grand opening of your family’s newest equestrian facility just outside the city. It was a blend of polished glass and expansive land. Wealth disguised as elegance.

Your world is now your prison.

“You’ll be meeting the head trainer in a moment,” Seungkwan said, standing beside you, flipping through his tablet. “He was highly recommended. Very selective about where he works.” You nodded barely listening. Your eyes were focused on something at the far end of the arena. A horse stood there, restless. Its movements are sharp and uncooperative with the other workers trying to guide it.

“It’s been like this all morning,” someone muttered nearby. “Hu Feng won’t listen to anyone.” You frowned slightly. Then you heard a voice low and steady. “Give me the reins.” Your heart stopped recognizing it. No. That’s not. It couldn’t be. You turned and there he was. Junhui.

For a moment, the world didn’t exist. Not the staff. Not the cameras. Not the weight of your name hanging in the air. Just him. But he wasn’t the same. He stood taller now, his shoulders broader, movements more controlled, less boy more of something solid. Grounded. There was a quiet confidence in the way he approached Hu Feng, like he belonged exactly where he was.

Like he always had.

The handlers stepped back immediately, almost relieved. Junhui didn’t rush and didn't force anything. He just reached out slowly, letting the horse breathe, letting it see him.

“Easy.” He murmured. The same voice. The same calmness. Your chest tightened. The horse shifted, tense at first then slowly gradually it stilled. Listened. Trusted. Just like before. Your vision blurred slightly because nothing about that moment felt like it belonged to the years that had passed. It felt like the countryside. Like sunlight and quiet mornings. Like him standing beside you saying “gentle.”

“Impressive, isn’t he?” You flinched slightly at the voice beside you. Seungkwan smiled. “That’s him. The new head trainer mentioned.” You barely heard him because Junhui had turned. And this time he saw you. That’s when everything changed.

The recognition was instant. Sharp. Unmistakable. His gaze locked onto yours and didn’t move. Your breath caught. You had imagined this moment before. A hundred times. A thousand. What you would say? How you would explain? How you would fix what you broke? But standing here now you had nothing. Not a single word.

Jun’s expression didn’t soften. Didn’t brighten. Didn’t show relief. If anything it hardened just slightly but enough. Enough for you to feel it.

“Miss,” Seungkwan said gently. “Shall I introduce you?” The word hit you like a blade. Miss. Again just like that day. Your hands clenched slightly at your sides. “No.” You said quietly. But it was too late Jun was already walking toward you.

Each step was measured. Controlled. Nothing like the boy who used to lean casually against a stall door, teasing you for being late. This version of him kept his distance even before he reached you.

He stopped a few feet away. Professional and detached like you were just another client. “Ma’am,” he said. Your heart shattered a little. Ma’am. Not your name. Not even the name you gave him. Just distance.

“Welcome to Heaven’s Cloud.” His voice was calm. Even. Like he hadn’t once stood in a field watching you leave without saying goodbye. Like you hadn’t carried the weight of that moment for years.

You forced yourself to speak. “Junhui…” His jaw tightened just for a second, but he didn’t respond to it, didn’t acknowledge it. “Is there something you’d like to discuss regarding the horses?” He asked instead. Formal. Cold. Your chest ached.

“No,” you softly said. “I mean yes but that’s not…” your voice faltered. This wasn’t how you imagined it. He wasn’t supposed to look at you like this. Like you meant nothing.

“I tried to find you.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. Jun’s expression flickered. Barely. But you saw it. “I went back,” you continued your voice quieter now. “You were gone.”

Silence.

People moved around you, voices in the background, but it all felt distant. Muffled. Like the world had narrowed again just like before. Junhui exhaled slowly. Then finally…finally he looked at you. Not through you.

“You left,” he said. It hit harder than anything else.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“You had a voice.”

Your breath caught. “I tried…”

“No,” he cut in, not raising his voice but firm. “You didn’t.”

The truth stung because part of it was real. “I was going to tell you,” you said desperation creeping up. “I just needed…”

“More time?” He finished.

You fell silent. Because that’s exactly what you needed. What you thought you had. Jun let out a quiet breath, shaking his head slightly. “I waited,” he said. Your heart dropped. “I thought maybe you’d come back. Or at least send something.” His gaze hardened again. “Anything.”

Guilt crushed you.

“I-“

“I heard about you instead.” Your stomach twisted. Of course he did, you were everywhere. Your name. Your face. Your life public, unavoidable. A world he was never meant to be part of.

“Jun..” you stepped closer, your voice barely above a whisper. “What we had…it wasn’t fake.” Something in his expression cracked. Just for a second, gone almost immediately.

“Maybe it wasn’t,” he said quietly. Hope flickered. “But it wasn’t real either.” And just like that it was shattered. Silence fell between you. Heavy. Unfinished. Full of everything neither of you had said. Back then. Or now. But neither of you walked away, not this time.

No matter how much time passed some things never really left. And standing here in a world that finally belonged to you. You realized something painfully clear, you had found him again. But this time winning him back might be even harder than losing him.

You didn’t let him walk away, not again. “Jun wait.” He stopped but barely. Like every instinct told him to keep going but something still held him back. Slowly he turned back. Impatience flickered across his face now. “You shouldn’t be chasing after me like this.”

“Why?” You shot back. “Because it’s inconvenient? Or because it’s me?”

His jaw tightened. “Because it doesn't change anything.”

“It could.”

“It won’t.”

That should have stopped you, but it didn’t. “Then let me try,” you said, stepping closer. “Just… one chance. To explain. To fix it.” Jun let out a short breath, shaking his head like he already knew how this would end. “You can’t fix something you walked away from.”

“I didn’t walk away from you,” you said, your voice breaking. “I was pulled away from everything.”

“Same difference.”

“No, it’s not!” Your voice cut sharper than expected. A few people nearby glanced over. You didn’t care. “I came back,” you continued, quieter but more intense. “That should count for something.”

“It doesn’t.”

The words land cold. Immediate. But there was something under them, something strained. Like he was forcing himself to believe it. “Then why are you still talking to me?” You asked. That hit. Jun didn’t answer right away because he couldn’t. Because you were right.

Before he could respond, Seungkwan hurried over, slightly out of breath. “Miss we need you inside. The board of investors are ready.” Of course they were. Perfect timing. You didn’t look away from Jun.

“I’m not done here.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Seungkwan said gently. Jun gave a quiet humorless huff. “Seems like nothing’s changed.” Your chest tightened. “Give me until tonight,” you quickly said. “Please.” He looked at you like he wanted to say no.

Like he should say no.

“One conversation doesn’t fix years,” he said.

“I know.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because it’s all I have.” There was a long pause. “After closing,” he said carefully. “But that’s it.” Relief hit you so fast it almost hurt. “Okay.” Jun nodded once then walked away.

Later that night Heaven’s Cloud was quiet. Empty. You found him exactly where you expected. The stables. Some things never changed. “You’re late.” He said without looking at you. The words felt like déjà vu.

A faint, sad smile pulled at your lips. “You didn’t give me a time.”

“…Still using that?”

“Still works.”

He then turned trying to lean casually against the stall like nothing happened, but the second his shoulder touched the wooden frame he fell. He stood up quickly, pretending like nothing happened.

“Talk.” He said instantly. No softness. No teasing. He wanted you to just get it over with. You took a breath, this was it. “No excuses,” you said. “Just the truth.” Jun didn’t react but he listened.

“I didn’t tell you who I was because I hated it,” you admitted. “What my name means. What people expect from me. I just wanted one place where I wasn’t…that.” His gaze flickered slightly. “I didn’t think it would matter,” you continued. “Not at first. Then it did. And by the time I realized that I was already—”

“Lying,” he finished.

“…Yes.” You swallowed. The silence was heavy. “I was going to tell you that day,” you said quietly. “Before they came.” Jun looked away.

“That doesn’t change what happened.”

“I know.”

“Then what are you trying to do?”

Your chest tightened. “Start over.”

That got his attention. He looked back at you this time. “You think it’s that simple?”

“No,” you said honestly. “I think it’s going to be really hard.” You paused.

“Good,” he muttered.

You stepped closer this time. “No more lies,” you said. “You can ask me anything.” Jun let out a quiet breath, like he wasn’t sure he wanted that.

“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” The question hit deeper than anything else. Because that one you didn’t have a clear answer for. “I tried,” you said. “My father made it very clear that if I came back it wouldn’t just affect me.”

Jun’s expression darkened. “…So you chose them.”

“No,” you said quickly. “I chose to survive it. And then came back when I can actually stand on my own.”

“And now.”

“Now I don’t have to ask for permission.” Then something shifted. Not completely but enough. Jun pushed off the stall, taking a step towards you. “Do you even understand what it felt like?” He asked quietly. “To realize everything I thought was real…wasn’t.”

“It was real.”

“For you maybe.”

“For you too.”

“Then why does it feel like I was the only one left behind?”

Your breath caught because he wasn’t wrong. “I thought about you every day,” you said. He scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say now. “

“Then don‘t believe me,” you said, voice steadying. “But don’t pretend you didn’t think about me too.” He was silent, you held his gaze and didn’t back down. That was your mistake because something in his expression changed it wasn’t cold anymore or distant. It was something sharper and more unnerving.

Jun stepped closer. Close enough that the space between you felt familiar again. “You always do this,” he said quietly. Your heart started racing.

“Do what?”

“Make it hard to walk away.”

You stopped breathing for a moment. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He took another step. Now you could feel it again that the same tension and the same pull years hadn’t erased it. If anything it made it worse.

“Jun…” you whispered more of a warning or maybe a plea. But you didn’t know. “You should go,” he said but he didn’t move nor did he step back to create distance. “Do you want me to?” You asked softly. That question was the line. He exhaled slowly like he was losing a fight with himself. “…No.” And that was all it took for the distance between you to disappear. Not rushed or careless but inevitable like something that had been waiting years to happen.

His hand caught your wrist first. It wasn't gentle but not rough either. It was grounding, real.

“Last chance,” he murmured.

“For what?”

“To walk away.”

You didn’t and this time neither did he.

The first week was dangerous not because of scandals and not because of your father. Not even the press waiting outside every public event. It was dangerous because falling back into Junhui felt easy. Too easy.

It started small, a conversation after work then another. Then coffee was left outside his office because you remembered he skipped breakfast when he was stressed. He never thanked you for it, but the cup always disappeared.

And somehow without either of you acknowledging it you became part of his routine again.

“You’re distracting the horses.”

You looked up from where you sat on the fence outside the training arena mildly offended. “That sounds fake.”

“It’s not.”

Jun adjusted the reins in the horse beside him focused and infuriatingly calm. “They keep looking at you instead of me.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Maybe they just like me more.”

“They don’t know you.”

The words slipped out casually but the second they did the air changed. You both heard what he really meant. You looked away first. Jun exhaled quietly.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did.”

He stayed silent.

“Maybe a little.”

At least he was honest now. The thing was Jun wasn’t cold all the time anymore. That was the problem. If he hated you completely, this would’ve been easier, but sometimes you caught glimpses of him. The old him. The one who looked at you differently when you weren’t paying attention. The one who remembered things you said years ago. The one who stilled moved instinctively closer whenever you were upset.

And every time it happened you fell harder.

“You’re staring again.”

You blinked. Jun leaned against the stable door, sleeved rolled up, dark hair slightly damp from work. Exactly the kind of sight that made your heart flutter deeply.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“You’re very confident for someone covered in dirt.”

He looked at himself. “Occupational hazard.”

“You could at least try to look less good doing it.”

The words escaped before you could stop them. Jun froze. Then he slowly lifted his eyebrows. “… Was that flirting?” Your face burned immediately. “No.”

“That sounded like flirting.”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“That’s worse.”

You groaned, covering your face briefly with your hands. “Can we pretend that didn’t happen?”

“No,” he said instantly.

You were dying on the inside. When you looked back up, he was smiling. Actually smiling. Not polite or restrained. Real. And the sight of it hit you so hard it almost hurt because you had missed that smile for years.

“You know,” Jun said quietly, “You’re different now.”

Your expression softened. “Different good or different bad?” He tilted his head like he was still deciding.

“You talk more.”

“That’s your fault.”

“How?”

“You make me nervous.”

That surprised him. You could tell.

“Me?” He asked

“Yes, you.”

“You used to lie to me without blinking.”

“Ouch.”

“But now you’re nervous?” You looked at him for a moment before answering honestly. “Back then, I was scared you’d find out who I was.” You paused. “Now I’m scared you’ll decide you don’t want me anymore.” That wiped the amusement from his face immediately. The silence after felt heavy. Jun looked down briefly, jaw tightening. “I never said I didn’t want you.”

Your heart jumped.

“Jun…”

“But wanting you and trusting this?” He continued, gesturing faintly between the two of you, “Aren’t the same thing.” There it was the truth underneath everything. Not a lack of love. Fear.

You get off the fence slowly getting closer. Careful not to push too hard this time. “I know,” you said softly. “I’m trying to earn that back.” Jun watched you approach but didn’t move. It was progress, tiny fragile progress.

“You know what the worst part was?” He asked suddenly. Your chest tightened. “What?”

“I hated myself.” The confession hit you like a punch. Jun let out a quiet breath, his gaze drifting somewhere past you. “Every time I saw your face somewhere,” he admitted “I told myself I was over it.”

Billboards, magazines, and interviews. Your entire day had haunted him whether he wanted it to or not. “But I’d still look, he said quietly.

Your eyes stung unexpectedly. “Jun…”

“And then you walked back into my life like no time has passed at all.”

“I know it’s unfair.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “It is.”

For a second, neither of you spoke. Then softly, “I missed you too.” Jun’s gaze lifted back to yours. You could see it now the exhaustion in him, the restraint. How hard he was trying not to fall back into this completely.

Into you.

“You should stop looking at me like that,” he said quietly.

Your breath caught. “Like what?”

“Like I already forgiven you.”

The words hurt because they were true. Part of you hoped love would soften things faster that maybe if he saw how much you still cared it would erase the damage. But the hurt didn’t disappear because feelings survived.

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” you whispered. Jun held your gaze for a long moment. He slowly responded “Good.”

But he still reached for you. It was small, barely anything, just his fingers brushing against yours at first. Hesitating. Like he was giving himself one final chance to stop. You looked down at his hand then back at him. Neither of you pulled away.

Jun stepped closer. Close enough now that your heartbeat turned uneven again. “You’re trouble,” he murmured. A tiny laugh escaped you. “That’s a little unfair coming from you.”

“I was fine before you.”

“That sounds fake too.”

His mouth twitched slightly then his expression softened. Dangerously. “You really came back for me?” He asked quietly. Not accusing this time, not angry. Just…wanting the truth. Your chest ached. “There was never anyone else,” you admitted softly. “There was just you.” Something in him broke at that. Not loudly or dramatically, but enough. Enough that his hand tightened around yours. Enough that he finally leaned his forehead lightly against yours and closed his eyes. Like he was tired of fighting this. Tired of fighting you.

And for the first time in years, Jun let himself want you back openly. Even if it terrified him.

Junhui wanted to learn about your world so you invited him to the company gala. Jun hated galas that became obvious almost immediately. “You look like you want to kill someone.” Jun adjusted the collar of his suit jacket like it had personally offended him. “I might.” You laugh softly despite yourself.

“You look good.”

“I look trapped.”

“That too.”

His unimpressed stare only made your smile widen. The problem was he did look good. Dangerously good.

The tailored black suit sharpened everything about him: the broadness of his shoulders, the quiet confidence in the way he stood, the intensity in his gaze. And apparently you weren’t the only one noticing.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you're plotting something.” You glanced away innocently. “No reason.”

“That means there’s definitely a reason.”

“There may be a reason.“ He sighed. “I should be at the stables.”

The gala hall was filled with wealth. Crystal chandeliers, champagne towers, people dressed in designer clothes worth more than most people’s rent. Jun noticed all of it immediately. Not because he was impressed but because he looked uncomfortable. And you hated that.

The two of you entered together, conversations subtly shifted around the room. Eyes followed. Whispers started instantly. You were used to it, but Jun wasn’t.

“Are they always this obvious?” He muttered quietly beside you.

“Yes.”

“That seems exhausting.”

“It is.”

“…How do you live like this?”

You almost answered: I don’t. But instead you forced a smile. “Practice.” Jun looked at you longer than expected. Like he suddenly understood something he hadn’t before.

“Miss…!”

A group approached before you could say anything else. Businessmen with polished smiles and sharp eyes. Your world. One of them glanced toward Jun almost immediately. Curious, assessing, and judging. “And who is this?” The man asked. You opened your mouth, but Jun answered first. “Junhui.” No title. No explanation. Just his name. The man blinked, clearly expecting more. “And what do you do, Junhui?” There it was. The question.

Not: Who are you?

But: What are you worth?

You felt Jun tense beside you. “I work with horses,” he said evenly. There was a tiny pause, subtle but noticeable. The man smiled politely after a while. “How…interesting.” You saw it immediately that look people got when they decided someone didn’t belong. And suddenly you were seventeen again, terrified of this exact moment. Only this time you weren’t staying quiet.

“He’s the head trainer of our equestrian division,” you said smoothly. The man’s demeanor shifted instantly. Respectable title. Corporate attachment. Acceptable. It made you sick. Jun noticed it too. You could feel it.

“How impressive,” the man said quickly, now far more interested. Jun gave a short nod but said nothing. The conversation moved on, but the damage was already done.

The second the group left, Jun exhaled sharply. “There it is.” Your stomach twisted. “Jun…”

“That thing they do.”

”What thing?”

His eyes met yours. “Looking at people like they’re deciding if they deserve oxygen in the room.” You winced internally because he was right.

“They’re not all like that.”

“Most are.”

You couldn’t even argue. Before you could respond, another interruption came. This time it was worse. “Your father’s looking for you.” Your blood ran cold. Jun immediately noticed. The warmth from earlier disappeared from your expression so fast it physically hurt him to watch.

“…That bad?” He asked quietly. You gave a humorless laugh. “You have no idea.”

Your father stood near the center of the ballroom surrounded by executives and investors, commanding the room without effort. Power clung to him naturally. And the second his eyes landed on Jun everything sharpened.

You felt Jun straighten beside you instinctively. Not intimidated. Your father approached slowly, controlled, and dangerous in the quietest way possible. “Junhui,” he said smoothly. The fact he already knew his name made you feel uneasy. “Sir,” Jun replied calmly. Your father’s gaze swept over him once.

Measured.

Clinical.

Then towards you. “I’d like a word with my daughter.” Not a request. “I can stay,” Jun said immediately. Your father smiled faintly. “Can you?” The tension snapped tight instantly. You stepped in quickly before things escalated. “I’ll be fine.” Jun looked unconvinced. Honestly? You were too. Your father waited until Jun was out of hearing distance before speaking.

“You brought him here.”

You crossed your arms slightly. “Yes.”

“In front of the investors”

”He works for the company.”

Your father’s expression barely changed. “That’s not why he’s here.” he was silent then coldly said “You’re repeating old mistakes.” Your body instantly heated up with anger. “Loving someone isn’t a mistake.”

”Someone like him is.” Your jaw tightened to the point it hurt. “He’s more honest than anyone in this room.”

“Honesty doesn’t build empires.”

”No,” you snapped quietly. “It just destroys people for them.” That finally got a reaction. Small but real.

Across the ballroom, Jun watched everything. The tension, your expression, the way your father spoke to you. And for the first time he understood something he hadn’t fully grasped before. You hadn’t just hidden behind wealth years ago. You had been trapped inside it.

“You should leave her alone.” The voice beside Jun scared him slightly. An older woman stood nearby, elegant and observant. “What?” He asked. She glanced toward you across the room. “That girl will destroy herself trying to love people against her father’s wishes.” Jun’s expression darkened immediately. “You don’t know her.” The woman smiled sadly. “I’ve known her since she was born.” That hit harder than expected. “She’s stubborn,” the woman continued softly. “But eventually this family makes everyone choose.”

Jun’s jaw tightened. “And if she chooses wrong?” The woman looked at him carefully. “In this family,” she said quietly, “love is usually the wrong choice.”

Across the room, your eyes found Jun’s again and suddenly the night felt dangerous. Because this wasn’t a secret anymore. Not to your father. Not to society. Not to the world watching. And for the first time since reuniting Jun began to understand what loving you would cost.

The argument started before the gala ended. You should’ve expected that. The second the car door shut behind you, your father spoke. “You embarrassed me tonight.” You stared out the window, exhaustion already in your eyes. “Good.” The silence that followed was sharp. Intimidating. “You think this is rebellion?” He asked coldly. “Parading that boy around in front of investors?”

“That boy has more integrity than half the men in that room.”

“Integrity doesn't matter.”

”There’s the problem.” Your fathers jaw tightened.

“You’re emotional.”

“And you’re cruel.”

The car stopped abruptly outside your family estate. Neither of you moved immediately. Not angry. Certain. Like this conversation had only one outcome. You turned toward him. “No.” It was the first time in your life you had ever said that to him without fear. And he noticed it.

Your father studied you carefully. “This obsession again,” he murmured. “After all these years.”

”It’s not an obsession.”

“You barely know him.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You don’t know me at all.” That landed. Hard.

“You think he loves you?” Your father asked.

“I know he does.”

“He loves the fantasy of you.” Your expression hardened. “No! He loved me before he knew who I was.” That shut him up for half a second. Because that was the one thing your father could never understand. Jun had fallen for you when you had nothing to offer but yourself.

No money.

No status.

No advantage.

Just you.

“He will resent you eventually,” your father continued. “Men like him always do.”

“Men like him?”

“Yes,” he said in a cold tone. “People who spend their lives looking in through windows at worlds they’ll never belong to.” Your stomach twisted in anger.

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know exactly what he is.” The words snapped something in you. “No,” you replied immediately. “I’m finally choosing something for myself.”

“And when this ends?”

“It won’t.”

The certainty in your voice made his expression darken. Because suddenly this wasn’t a phase anymore. It wasn't a youthful rebellion. It was real.

“You sound exactly like your mother.” The words hit unexpectedly. You froze. Your father rarely spoke about her. Ever. “…What does that mean?” For the first time that night, something unreadable flickered across his face. “She believed love mattered more than power too.” You gasped. “And?” There was a long silence. “She learned power mattered more than love when she married me.”

Something in the way he said that made your stomach turn. Not angry. Not mocking. Almost…bitter. “You loved her,” you realized quietly. Your father’s expression immediately shut down again. “This conversation is over.”

“No,” you said sharply. “You don’t get to say things like that and walk away.”

“You’re naive.”

“And you’re miserable.” That stopped him cold. The air in the car turned suffocatingly still. “You think I built all of this by being soft?” Your father asked quietly. “No,” you whispered. “I think you built all of this because you were terrified of losing people.” His gaze snapped toward yours. Too fast. Too defensive. You saw it immediately. And suddenly you understood him. Not fully but enough. Enough to realize your father wasn’t heartless. He was someone who had convinced himself love was a weakness because losing it nearly destroyed him once.

“You don’t get to control my life because yours hurt,” you said quietly. Your father looked away first. That never happened before.

When you stepped out of the car, your hands were shaking. Not from fear but from adrenaline. From years of swallowed words finally spilling out.

“I fought with him.” You started to say, your chest heavy. Jun stood near the entrance gates, still in his suit, tie loosened slightly now. Waiting for you to continue. “What are you doing here?” He shrugged lightly. “You look upset.” That simple, that easy. Like, of course, he came after you.

You laughed softly despite yourself, the sound exhausted. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Probably not.” But he still stepped closer.

The moment he saw your expression, his changed immediately. “What did he say?” You hesitated. Jun’s jaw tightened. “That bad?”

“He wants me to leave you alone.” A humorless smile crossed Jun’s face. “Shocking.”

“He thinks this will ruin everything.” Jun was quiet for a second. Then softer “…Maybe he’s not completely wrong.” Your head snapped up. “Don’t.”

“I’m serious.”

“Wen Junhui”

“This is your family. Your company. Your entire future.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know if I fit into any of it.” There it was. The fear. The insecurity your father had been counting on. You stepped toward him. “You fit with me.” Jun looked away. “That’s not always enough.”

“It is for me.”

“But is it enough for the world you live in?” That question hurt because neither of you truly knew. You reach for his hand anyway and after a second he let you take it. “I’ve spent years regretting not fighting for you,” you whispered. “I’m not doing that again.” Jun looked at your intertwined hands quietly like he wanted to believe you. Like part of him already did. But another part was terrified too.

“He’s going to make this difficult,” he admitted.

“I know.”

“He’ll try to push me out.”

“I know.”

“And eventually you’re going to have to choose.” You swallowed hard because that was the truth looming over you both now. Not if. When.

Jun lifted his gaze back to yours slowly. And for the first time since reuniting. He looked genuinely afraid. Not of your father. Not of the pressure. Of you. Of what would happen if he trusted you completely again…and lost you a second time.

“Tell me now,” he said quietly. “Before this gets worse.” Your heart pounded. “If he forces you to choose someday…” he paused. Then softly said “…What would you choose?”

The first photo happened by accident.

The second one didn’t.

“You know this is a terrible idea.” Jun adjusted the cuff of his suit with visible irritation, eyes scanning the crowded ballroom entrance like he was preparing for battle. Honestly? He kind of was. You smiled faintly beside him. “You said that last time too.”

“And I was right last time.”

Tonight was worse. Much worse. Because this wasn’t just another company gala. This was a major charity event hosted directly by your family. Investors, press, executives, and socialites. Every important person in your world is packed into one glittering nightmare. And Jun was standing beside you anyway.

“You can still leave,” you said quietly. Jun looked at you immediately. Not offended. Just tired. “Do you still want me to go?” The question caught you off guard. Because underneath it was something deeper.

Not: Should I go?

But: Wil you choose me if I stay tonight?

Your chest tightened. “No.” The answer came instantly. Firm. Certain.

Jun stared at you for a second longer before exhaling quietly. “…Then I’m staying.” The second you entered the room, you noticed. Conversations slowed, heads turned, phones subtly lifted and whispers spread almost instantly. Jun felt all of it. You did too. But this time you didn’t let go of his hand.

That mattered more than you realized. Because Jun noticed and so did the cameras, and across the ballroom your father definitely noticed. “Breathe,” you whispered softly. Jun glanced down at you slightly. “I am breathing.”

“You look homicidal.”

“I’m considering it.” A laugh slipped out before you could stop it. It was wrong and terrible timing, but the sound softened something in him immediately.

“You really hate these things, huh?” You murmured. Jun looked around once at the polished wealth surrounding him. “I hate how they look at you.”

Your expression faltered slightly. “…What do you mean?”

“Like you belong to them.”

The words hit harder than expected. Before you could answer, a flash exploded nearby. Then another. And another. Paparazzi. Already. Jun stiffened instantly. Your grip tightened around his hand on instinct. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “It doesn’t seem okay.”

“Miss Y/L/N! Over here!”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Is this relationship confirmed?”

“Are the rumors true?”

The questions came fast.

Aggressive.

Relentless.

Jun’s expression darkened immediately. Not angry at you but at them. By the way your entire life has become public property. You should’ve let go of his hand then. For damage control. For headlines. For your father. Instead you stepped closer to Jun and every camera in the room caught it.

The flashes intensified immediately. Seungkwan was somewhere across the room moments away from cardiac arrest. Jun stared down at you slightly, genuinely surprised now. “You really don’t care anymore?” He asked quietly. You looked up at him then toward the cameras then back at him. “No.” You said softly. And for the first time Jun believed you.

Unfortunately your father did too. “Excuse me.” The cold voice cut through the crowd instantly. Your stomach dropped. Around you, conversations quieted almost immediately. Your father approached with the controlled calm of someone furious enough not to raise his voice. Which was always worse.

His gaze landed first on your intertwined hands. Then Jun. Then you. “May I speak with you.?” Not can. May. Polite enough to be a warning. Jun started to let go of your hand. You stop him. Your father noticed that too. And suddenly the tension in the room became suffocating.

“You’re causing a scene,” your father said quietly “No,” you replied evenly . “People reacting to me having a life is causing a scene.” His expression hardened.

“This is not the place.”

“You say that about every place.” A tiny flicker of anger crosses his face. Rare. “Junhui,” your father said suddenly, shifting his attention. “Perhaps you should give us a moment.” The dismissal in his tone was deliberate, almost calculated. Like Jun was temporary. Replaceable. Before Jun had the chance to respond you interrupted.

“No.” Immediate and sharp.

Your father looked back at you. “You would defy me publicly?” You felt Jun tense beside you instantly. Probably expecting you to back down. To soften. To choose survival.

Instead you lifted your chin slightly. “Yes.” Silence. Absolute silence. Even the surrounding conversations had stopped now. People were pretending not to watch. Pretending very badly. Your father lowered his voice. Dangerously calm. “You’re embarrassing this family.” You laughed softly in disbelief. “No,” you whispered. “I think I’m embarrassing you.”

Jun looked at you like he barely recognized what he was seeing. Because years ago, you would’ve folded under this pressure instantly. But not now. Not for this. Not for him. Your father took a slow breath. Then finally he said, “If you walk out of this event with him tonight…” he paused “don’t expect things to remain the same.” There it was the threat. Not hidden anymore. Direct.

Jun’s hand tightened around yours immediately. Not controlling. Protective. “Don’t,” he said quietly to you. Your eyes flickered toward him. His expression had changed completely. Not fear for himself. Fear for you.

“You don’t understand what he’ll do,” Jun murmured. “I do.”

“No,” he said softly. “I think you underestimate how ugly this can get.” Maybe. But you were tired. Tired of fear. Tired of hiding. Tired of letting everyone else decide your life.

You looked back at your father. Then slowly you stepped closer to Jun instead. Choosing a side.

Publicly.

Completely.

The cameras exploded and shouts instantly erupted. Questions. Chaos. Flashes blinding the room white. And somewhere in the middle of it all Jun stared at you in shock. Because this time you didn’t let him go.

By morning everything was ruined. Your phone started ringing at 5 AM. It didn’t stop after that. Messages. Calls. Notifications. Headlines multiplying faster than you could process them. You stared at the screen, stomach sinking further with every swipe.

Pledis Heiress in Secret Relationship with Employee

Mystery Man at Charity Gala Identified

From Stableboy to Socialite

Inside Scandal Shaking Pledis Industries

And the photos.

God, the photos of your hand in Jun’s. His arm around you as cameras closed in. They looked at him like the rest of the room didn’t exist. They had captured it all.

A new message appeared from Seungkwan.

Your father has called an emergency board meeting.

Your blood ran cold.

Meanwhile, Jun was getting destroyed online. “Hey.” Jun looked up from the stable office as Chan, one of the younger trainers, entered awkwardly with his phone in hand. The expression alone told him enough. “…Bad?” Jun asked flatly. “Depends how much you like being called a gold digger.” Jun’s jaw tightened.

He took the phone and instantly regretted it. Thousands of comments. Strangers tearing him apart like they know him personally.

He planned this from the beginning.

Men like him. Always look for rich women.

She’ll dump him in six months.

Embarrassing.

He doesn’t belong in her world.

That one stung because it echoed too closely to the thoughts he already fought against himself. “What idiots,” Chan muttered angrily. Jun handed the phone back quietly.

“…They’re not completely wrong.”

“Hyung.”

“I should get back to work.”

The conversation was over, but work didn’t save him either because now people stared, whispered, and watched him differently. Not Junhui the trainer but Junhui the scandal.

By noon paparazzi had found the stables. Cameras crowded the gates. Questions shouted nonstop.

“Junhui! Did you pursue her intentionally?”

“Are you living together?”

“Did her father try to pay you off?”

One reporter laughed while saying “What’s it like dating someone worth billions?” Jun’s expression darkened instantly. Inside the car across the street you watched everything that happened live. Horror set in your chest. “Go,” you told the driver immediately.

“But your father requested …”

“I said go.”

You barely waited for the car to stop before getting out. The second the reporters saw you chaos doubled. Flashes exploded and questions flew faster.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

“Are the rumors serious?”

“Is your family against the relationship?”

“Did you hide him for years?”

Hide him. The words made you sick.

Junhui saw you immediately. And instead of relief he looked upset. That hurt. “What are you doing here?” He asked the second you reached him.

“Helping you.”

“This is helping?”

The cameras kept flashing around you. You ignored them. “You shouldn’t be dealing with this alone.” Jun laughed once. Short and exhausted.

“Your world is insane.”

“I know.”

“No,” he snapped quietly. “I don’t think you do.” That stopped you cold. Before you could respond another car arrived. Black. Familiar. Your stomach dropped. “No…” your father stepped out. And suddenly the atmosphere shifted completely. Even the reporters went quieter because power had entered the scene.

Your father looked at the cameras, then at Jun, and finally at you. Disappointment settled across his face like ice. “You continue to ignore direct instructions.” Anger flared immediately.

“He’s being harassed!”

“He’s being exposed to consequences.”

Your expression hardened. “Because of me.”

“Yes.” The honesty stunned even Jun.

“You think I don’t know that?” You demanded.

“I think you don’t understand what damage looks like until it reaches you personally.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“No,” your father replied coldly. “I’m realistic.”

Then he turned toward Jun directly and the temperature dropped another ten degrees.

“This situation ends today.” Your pulse spiked. “What are you talking about?” Your father ignored you completely. Instead, he reached into his coat and handed Jun a folder. He frowned slightly before taking it. You saw the company logo and your blood ran cold.

“Effective immediately,” your father said calmly, “Your position within Heaven’s Cloud has been terminated.” Silence. Complete silence. Even the reporters looked stunned.

Your voice broke first. “You fired him?”

“He has become a liability.”

“He’s a person!”

“He became a public spectacle the second this relationship surfaced.” Rage hit so fast your vision blurred. “You did this on purpose.” Your father didn’t deny it. That was the worst part.

Slowly, Jun opened the folder. Reading the document, his face gave nothing away. But you know him now. You saw the humiliation, the anger, the hurt. “Junhui” he closed the folder quietly. Then looked at your father. Not emotional, not explosive, just calm. Which somehow felt worse. “Understood.”

No.

No,no no. This can’t be happening.

He wasn’t supposed to accept this. “What??” You turned toward him in disbelief. Jun avoided your eyes.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s NOT fine!” Your voice cracked loudly enough that several reporters focused harder. Jun noticed of course he did and somehow that made him retreat even more. “You should go home,” he said quietly. You stared at him.

“Are you serious right now?”

“They’re tearing you apart out here.”

“I don’t care!”

“I do.”

That silenced you. Jun finally looked at you then and the pain in his expression nearly shattered you. “I told you this would happen.” Your eyes burned.

“So what?” You whispered. “We just give up?”

“No.”

But he looked exhausted when he said it like he suddenly understood exactly how hard loving you was always going to be. Your father stepped forward slightly. “This ends now.” And for the first time Jun looked genuinely tempted to let it.

After being fired, something in Jun changed. Not suddenly, but not all at once, slowly enough to hurt. He stopped answering your calls immediately. When you stopped by his place, he was suddenly “busy.” When you asked if he wanted to see you, he always said “Maybe later.” Later never came. 

At first, you told yourself he just needed space. Then a week passed. Then two. The distance between you started feeling terrifyingly familiar. “Junhui.” He looked up briefly from the duffel bag he was packing inside the small apartment above the stables. You froze slightly. 

“You’re leaving?” 

“Yes.” 

Your stomach dropped immediately. “No you can’t?” 

“There’s another training facility interested in hiring me.” 

The room suddenly felt too small. “Where?” 

“A few hours away.” Your chest hurt painfully. “You didn’t tell me.” Jun zipped the bag shut. “I’m telling you now.” Something snapped inside you. “That’s not the same thing.” His jaw tightened instantly. “Don’t start.” 

“Don’t start?” You repeated in disbelief. “You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks!” 

“I’ve been trying to think.”

“No,” you shot back. “You’ve been running away.”  You saw it in his expression. Jun exhaled sharply, looking away. 

“You don’t understand what this feels like.” 

“Then tell me!”  His laugh was bitter this time. “Everywhere I go now, people know me as your boyfriend.” The words hurt because he said them like it stripped him of himself completely. 

“They fired you because of me,” you whispered. 

“And you think that doesn’t matter?” 

“I’m trying to fix it!” 

“You can’t fix this!” 

The sudden sharpness in his voice stunned both of you. Silence crashed between you afterward. Jun dragged a hand through his hair roughly. “I had a life before all this,” he said quieter now. “I knew who I was.” 

Your eyes stung. “And now?”

“Now I don’t know if people look at me and see me anymore.” The confession cracked something in your chest. Because underneath the anger he sounded lost. 

You stepped closer carefully. 

“Jun please…” 

“No” he shook his head. “You don’t get to look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you can save this.” Your throat tightened painfully. “I love you.” The words came out desperate. Raw. Real. Jun closed his eyes briefly like hearing it hurt more than helped. “That’s the problem.” 

You stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means I love you too much to keep destroying your life.” Anger flared through the heartbreak.

“You don’t get to decide that for me.” 

“And you don’t get to pretend this hasn’t ruined everything!” Your breath caught sharply. “Ruined?” You repeated quietly. Jun looked away. It was too late. The damage was done. 

“So loving me ruined your life?” 

“That’s not what I said.” 

“It’s exactly what you said!” Your voice broke. And somehow that made the fight worse because now both of you were hurting too much to stop. 

“You think this has been easy for me?” You demanded. “I lost my family over this!” 

“You still HAVE your family!” 

That shout echoed through the room. Silence followed it was heavy and ugly. Jun looked horrified the second the words left his mouth. But you, you just stood there like he’d slapped you. Because suddenly you understood no matter how much he loved you, part of him still believed there was an invisible line between your worlds. 

One you could cross but he never truly could. 

“You think I chose any of this?” Your voice shook violently now. “You think I wanted this life?’ 

“No.” He admitted. “But it's still yours.” The truth of it hurt worse than anger because he was right. No matter how hard you fought against it, you would always belong to that world in some way and Jun would always feel outside of it. 

Tears burn your eyes now. “I’m trying,” you whispered. Jun’s expression cracked. “I know.” 

“Then why are you pushing me away?”  Because he didn’t know how to survive loving you anymore. Every time he looked at you, he wanted a future he didn’t believe he could have. Losing you once nearly destroyed him and somehow having you back felt even scarier. 

“I can’t breathe in your world,” he quietly said. That broke you completely. You stared at him for a long moment. Then nodded slowly. Too calmly. Which scared him. “…Okay.” Jun frowned slightly. “Okay?” 

“You want space?” Your voice was dangerously quiet now. “Fine.” 

“That’s not…” 

“No,” you interrupted softly. “I get it now.”  Your chest hurt so badly it felt hard to stand. “But don’t stand there and tell me this is for me.” Jun went still. “Because you’re not leaving to protect me,” you whispered. “You’re leaving because you’re scared.” That landed exactly where intended. 

His expression hardened instantly. “You think this is easy for me?”  

“No,” you said, tears finally falling now. “I think you’d rather lose me first than risk me leaving again.” There was complete silence. Because you were right and he knew it. 

Jun looked wrecked suddenly. Angry. Exhausted. Heartbroken. “All I’ve done is love you,” he said quietly. Your breath hitched. “Then why does it feel like you keep punishing me for it?”  The question shattered whatever composure he had left. 

For a second, he looked like he might reach for you. Like he might finally stop fighting. Instead, he stepped back and that hurt more than anything else that night. Your laugh came out shaky and devastated. 

“Wow.” 

Jun's chest tightened painfully. “Don’t” 

“You know what's funny?”  You whispered. “I spent years thinking if I could just get you back, everything would be okay.” Your eyes met his. “But loving each other was never the problem, was it?” No answer came because there wasn’t one. 

You wiped your face quickly, trying to pull yourself together. “I can’t keep begging you to stay.” Jun looked like he wanted to say something. Anything. But he didn’t. And somehow that was the final blow. 

You nodded once. Small. Broken. Then turned toward the door. “Y/N.” Your hand stopped on the handle. The way he said your name nearly made you turn around. But you couldn’t survive him changing his mind again. So without looking back you whispered “…I wish you had fought for me the way I fought for you.” Then you walk out. This time Jun didn’t follow. 

Three months later, the engagement announcement hit every news outlet in the country. 

Pledis Heiress Prepares to Announce Marriage with Business Partner

You stared at the headline from your office in complete silence. Across the room, your father calmly signed documents like he hadn’t just detonated your entire life. 

“You leaked it,” you said quietly. 

“I expedited the inevitable.” 

“There is no engagement.” 

“There will be.”

You laughed once. Cold. Disbelieving. 

“You really think you can force me into this?” 

“I think eventually you’ll grow tired of embarrassing yourself over a man who already walked away.” That one landed hard because it was cruel and it hurt. 

Meanwhile, Jun saw the news alone on his phone, standing in a stable hours away from you. And for a full minute he couldn’t breathe. The article showed your photo beside another man from an influential family. Perfect smiles. Perfect future. Perfect lie. Jun stared at it until his vision blurred because suddenly every fear he ever has about your world came rushing back at once. 

This is what people like you did. This was how stories like yours ended. Not with love but with arrangements, power and sacrifice. “You okay?” Jun blinked slowly as another trainer approached. He locked his phone immediately. “Yeah.” 

Lie. 

Terrible lie. 

That night, he couldn’t sleep because no matter how many times he told himself to let you go, he still knew you. Something about the announcement felt wrong. Too clean. Too sudden. Too much like pressure. 

Then his phone rang. It was an unknown number. He almost ignored it. “…Hello?” Silence greeted him first. “Jun.” Your voice is small and exhausted. Suddenly his heart was beating hard enough to hurt. 

For a second neither of you spoke because it had been months. Months of silence. Months of missing each other. Months of pretending you could survive it. “I’m sorry” you whispered. Jun shut his eyes. 

“Don’t.” 

“No I am.” Your voice cracked slightly . “For all of it. For calling. For ruining your peace again.” 

“You never ruined anything.” The answer came too fast. Too honest. And both of you heard it. A shaky breath escaped you. “They’re announcing it tomorrow.” Jun’s stomach dropped. 

“So it’s true.”

“No.” Confusion flickered across his face. “What?” 

“It’s not real.” Your voice sounded tired now. Hollow. “My father arranged the meeting, leaked the story, and now everyone’s acting like the decisions already made.” Jun’s body filled with anger. Cold and sharp. 

“Then say no.” You let out a bitter laugh. “You think I haven’t?” 

“Then fight harder.”  

“I’m tired, Jun.”  And that, that broke him. Because for the first time since meeting you, you sounded defeated. “You once asked what I would choose.” you whispered. Jun's chest tightened painfully. 

“I chose you,” you paused. “You were just too scared to believe me.” Every word hit exactly where it hurt most. Because you were right again. 

Jun sat down slowly on the edge of the stall behind him, dragging his hand over his face. 

“Y/N…” 

“I loved you enough to stand against everyone,” you said softly. “But I can't do it alone anymore.” The tears in your voice destroyed whatever distance he’d been trying to keep alive. “Tell me the truth,” you whispered. Jun’s grip on the phone tightened. “If I walk away tomorrow…” your voice shook, “will you let me?” The question hollowed him out instantly. Because he knew what you were really asking. 

Not:  Will you stop me? 

But: Are we over for real this time? 

Jun looked down at the floor quietly. At the life he tried to rebuild. At the distance he forced between you. At the fear that had controlled him for years. 

Then finally he understood something. Losing you a second time wouldn’t protect him anymore. It would destroy him. He stood abruptly. “Where are you?” Your breath caught. “What?” 

“Where are you?” 

The next hour felt unreal. Jun drove through heavy rain and he could barely see the road. 

Your father’s voice. 

The headlines.

The pressure. 

The fear. 

None of it mattered anymore because for the first time loving you mattered more than surviving it. 

By the time he reached the estate, reporters already crowed outside the gates. Of course they did. Tomorrow’s announcement has become a media frenzy. Jun stepped out anyway. Immediately flashes were everywhere. 

“Junhui!” 

“Are you here about the engagement?” 

“Did she leave you?” 

“Were you paid off?” 

He ignored all of them. 

Inside the estate, you stood frozen at the top of the staircase when the doors opened. Jun walked in soaked from the rain, breathing hard, eyes locked only on you. Suddenly, nothing else existed. Not the staff. Not the cameras outside. Not your father standing across the room.

Just him. 

“Jun…” then he said the words you had waited years for him to hear. “I’m done running from this.” Your eyes immediately filled with tears. Your father stepped forward. “You have no right—” 

“No,” Jun interrupted, voice steady despite everything. “You don’t get to decide her life because you’re afraid of love failing.” Silence slammed through the room. Your father froze because Jun had seen through him completely. 

Jun looked back at you and now softer. “I was scared.” The honesty in his voice shattered you. “Scared you’d leave again. Scared I’d never fit into your world. Scared loving you would destroy both of us.”  He stepped closer. “But losing you already did.” Your tears finally fell. “I don’t care about their world anymore,” Jun said quietly. “I care about you.”  

Your chest hurt so hard you couldn’t breathe. Because this, this was all you ever wanted, not perfection, not status just him choosing you freely. 

Jun stopped in front of you now. Close enough to touch. Close enough to finally stop pretending. “So if you’re asking me now…” his voice softened, “No.” 

A shaky breath escaped you. “No?” 

“I won’t let you walk away again.” 

And then he finally reached for you. You hugged him immediately. Crying. Laughing. Holding onto him like letting go will kill you both. Jun wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face against your hair like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Like he thought you might disappear if he loosened his grip. 

Across the room, your father watched silently. Not approving. Not forgiving. But for the first time not interfering either because he recognized the look on Jun’s face. He had worn it once too. 

One year later. The headlines changed not completely but enough. 

Pledis Heiress and Equestrian Director Open Youth Riding Foundation 

Public Couple Appear Together After Year of Speculation

Controversial Romance Still Going Strong

The last one made Jun laugh every time he saw it. “Still going strong,” he repeated from the kitchen one morning, amused. “Sounds like we survived a natural disaster."

You looked up from the couch. “Didn’t we?” 

“Fair point.” 

Things hadn’t magically become easy. That was the truth. Your father was still difficult. The media was still intrusive. The business world is still judgmental. But none of it controlled you anymore because eventually something changed. You both stopped trying to earn permission to love each other. 

Jun never fully became comfortable in your world, but he stopped feeling small inside it. And surprisingly your world slowly started changing around him too. Not because he tried to impress anyone. It was quite the opposite. 

Jun remained stubbornly himself through all of it. Still quiet, grounded, and still more comfortable around horses than billionaires. And somehow that authenticity made people respect him anyway. Especially after Heaven’s Cloud began thriving under his leadership. 

“You know they’re terrified of you now, right?" You teased one evening. Jun glanced up from the paperwork spread across the dining table. “Who?” 

“The executives.” He looked genuinely confused. “Why?” You smiled. “Because you keep telling them the truth.” 

“That’s how meetings work.” You laughed. 

God, you loved him. 

The countryside became your escape again eventually. Not as a secret this time. As your home. On weekends, the two of you disappeared there whenever possible. Back to open fields, quiet mornings, the little stable where everything first began. Only now you don't have to hide your name. 

One warm evening, you found him leaning against the fence watching the horses graze beneath the setting sun. The sight made your heart ache a little. Not painfully anymore, just deeply. 

“You’re staring again,” Jun said without turning. You smiled. “You always notice.” 

“You’re not subtle.” You walk over slowly until you stood beside him. For a moment neither of you spoke. Just wind, golden light, and peace. Something you once thought you’d never have together. “You know,” you said softly, “if you told us back then we’d end up here…” Jun snorted lightly. “I would've thought we were insane.” 

“We were insane.” 

“A little.” 

You looked over at him. At the man who once believed loving you would ruin him. At the man who stayed anyway. Jun caught you looking and his expression softened. Still your Jun. Always your Jun. “What?” He asked quietly. You smiled. “Nothing” he narrowed his eyes slightly. “That’s suspicious.” 

“I’m just happy.” The honesty of it made him still for a second because after everything those words mattered. Jun stepped closer slowly. Close enough to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you gently against him. “Me too,” he admitted. Your chest warmed. 

For a while, you simply stood there together watching the sunset across the fields. No cameras. No expectations. No one is pulling you apart. 

Just the two of you. 

Finally choosing each other without fear. 

Then Jun broke the silence. “You know,” he murmured thoughtfully, “You were a terrible liar when we first met Lemon. I knew that name wasn’t real, I just played along.” 

You gasped softly on fake offense. “Excuse me?” 

“I knew something was weird immediately.” 

“You did not.” 

“You screamed when Liang Chao sneezed near you.”

”It was loud!” 

“You also held a grooming brush like a weapon.” You started laughing. “That proves nothing.” Jun smiled fully now, that rare, beautiful smile you once thought you’d lost forever. “It proved you didn’t belong here.” Your laughter softened. “Maybe not,” you admitted quietly. Then you reached for his hand. “But I belonged with you.”  Something emotional flickered across his face. 

Even now, after everything those words still affected him. Jun lifted your joined hands slowly and pressed a kiss against your knuckles.

“I loved you from the beginning,” he confessed. Your heart melted. 

“I know.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

A small smile pulled at his lips. “I think I would’ve found you in every lifetime.” Your eyes burned. “That’s unfairly romantic.” 

“I’ve been holding that in for years.” You laughed through tears. “Idiot.”

“Your idiot.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

Lee Jihoon was a simple man and wasn’t someone who wanted too much out of life. He just wanted to live his life quietly and comfortably. He didn’t need all the things capitalism told society they needed.

He didn’t need the latest car model, happily driving around in a previously owned model. He didn’t need a large home with more rooms than people living there, he was content with his two bedroom home that was big enough for him. His clothes weren’t fancy luxury brands, with a lot of it thrifted and second hand. As long as they were comfortable and fit well, he was happy.

He had some of the best friends a man could ask for, and a cat that loved him.

If only everything in his life was simple.

You were the clerk at his favorite little corner shop, working nearly every time he came in, always greeting customers with a bright smile and a happy ‘hello’.  Now, he would be lying if he didn’t think you were one of the prettiest people he had ever seen, or that your smile didn’t brighten his day. He would definitely be lying if it didn’t settle in his chest in a way that wasn’t so simple.

He had to convince himself that he wasn’t special compared to the next customer to enter the small shop, nor was he the only one who would get that cute smile and greeting. He wasn’t the only one who would stay back after their purchases to chat with you, everyone would. You treated everyone like an old friend, always remembering little things about each person that came to your till.

“How’s your wife doing? I do hope you are helping with the baby and taking him when she needs to rest.” You playfully scold Chan when he would come in for things for his wife and newborn son. “If you need anything though, let me know. I can always come by on one of my days off with dinner and watch him while you two have some time to yourselves.”

“Did the recipe work? I know she had to of loved it.” You giggled with Seungcheol after you’d given him one of your favorite recipes to help impress his girlfriend, only to learn he burnt it and they ordered pizza instead. “Oh well, maybe next time.”

“Have I told you that you have the coolest robot in the entire world? I’m super jealous that it can shoot lasers.” You humored a little girl who would be clinging to a little robot action figure whenever she was in, before chatting her mother about their dinner plans.

So, when you would ask about his cat, how his music is going, or bring up something he mentioned in passing Jihoon had to remind himself that you were only doing it to be friendly. You were like this with everyone, and he was no different than the next person. You were simply just doing your job.

Except there were times that did make him wonder. There was a shine to your eyes when he would walk in, sometimes your greeting would be brighter, and your smile would sometimes soften to a shyer one when he would stay back to talk to you. While your laugh would be a little louder when he would make a joke, or you would take to chewing your bottom lip more.

Making you even prettier than you already were.

But he had to remind himself that he wasn’t any more special than the next person to come to her counter. It was probably simpler that way. Only he didn’t see the way your eyes would follow him when he would walk in or see the way your hand balled up into a fist when he would leave.

Wishing you had said something more and make your interest known.

Every weekend when spring starts the center of town would be filled with vendor booths, crowds of people from surrounding towns and would go until the end of summer. Selling different things like candles, candies, baked goods, trinkets, clothes, fruit and vegetables that were in season. Other booths would sell hot foods and cool drinks for people to enjoy as they browse, with some offering homemade ice cream when the days got hot.

It wasn’t the type of thing that Jihoon would usually go to, finding it was always too crowded and most the items being sold would just add clutter to one’s home, but he did find some of the food to be pretty decent. So, him being there on a Saturday wasn’t by his own choice, but his friend Wonwoo who was being dragged by his wife.

She had insisted that her husband needed to get out of the house more, and somehow this also meant that Jihoon did too.

Which he wouldn’t have exactly minded, had they not disappeared into the crowd as soon as they got there, leaving him to browse the booths alone. Hands in his jeans pocket, avoiding eye contact with the vendors as he browsed; not wanting to give them a chance to talk to him or attempt to sell him anything. Every so often he would catch sight of Wonwoo and his wife Adri, but they would be gone just as quickly as he would see them.

Then he saw you.

You were standing at one of the florist stands, talking and laughing with the elderly woman running the booth with your gaze on the beautiful flowers that were being sold. Jihoon found himself rooted to the spot, watching the way your face would light up from your smile and how your laughter would float to him like a melody only he ever wanted to hear.

You must’ve felt his gaze since your laughter faded as you looked his way, but your smile still played over your pretty lips as your eyes met. Giving a quick goodbye to the vendor, you adjusted the pink knitted tote on your shoulder as you made your way toward him.

Jihoon had to be mad to think that your smile got wider and there was a shine of excitement in your eyes at the sight of him.

“Jihoon, right?” You asked once closer, and he nodded with the corner of his lips upturning when you bounced with excitement. He then responded with your own name and braced himself for the chance he had gotten it wrong (that would be so embarrassing), and you nodded with the same enthusiasm. “It’s so nice to see you!”

“It’s nice to see you as well.” The words came out a little higher than he would’ve liked, having to cough to clear his throat. Of course, his voice would crack when talking to you, but you didn’t seem to notice. Or if you did, you didn’t say anything about it.

“Have you tried Mrs. Min’s lemon bars yet?” You didn’t miss a beat with your question, taking Jihoon a bit by surprise.

It was well known that the food in the market was decent, some of the best in fact, and one of the biggest reasons many would show up every weekend. Hell, most his friends would willingly get up during the weekend just to go eat,  and he had even tried many of the different dishes over the years himself, but not everything.

Like Mrs. Min’s lemon bars.

“I have not.” When he said those words, you let out a gasp before hopping (that’s the only way he could describe it) next to him. You hooked your arms around his, with your hand resting over his plaid covered bicep, tilting your head to look up at him.

It was then he realized you were shorter with him, and it somehow endeared you to him more.

“Then you have not lived yet.” The giggle that left you sounded so sweet to him, probably sweeter than the lemon bars that you were leading him to, but he was still processing you touching him.

You didn’t need to pull at him to follow you, finding himself easily falling into step with your little skips, filling the air with chatter as you walked. Telling him stories that eventually blended in with each other then took different directions to the point he barely was able to keep up. He didn’t seem to mind though.

He liked the sound of your voice and didn’t want to stop hearing it by interrupting with questions so he wouldn’t be so lost in your chatter. He rather take not knowing then not hear you.

“Here we are!” You said with excitement, the story you were telling forgotten now that you were standing at the pastry booth. Mrs. Min’s Breads and Pastries, said the sign. You then call out to the woman running the booth; a friend of yours. “Ruby! Could I get two of your famous lemon bars? Oh! And those orange bars too!” You then turned to Jihoon, “They are just like lemon bars, but even better cause they’re made with oranges.”

“I haven’t even tried the lemon bars yet.” Jihoon pointed out, with a soft chuckle, taking in how cute you were. Waiting impatiently for the pastries to be picked out and handed to you.

“I know, but what the hell right? Why not try both?” You answer, already handing over a couple of wadded bills, paying before Jihoon had the chance to offer. Taking the container that had the treats in it, you turned toward him suddenly with your smile even wider and body buzzing with excitement.

Jihoon might have just fallen in love with you.

Instead of grasping his arm, you reached out to take his hand to lead him to a grassy patch right behind the booth. Jihoon’s eyes stayed on your interlocked hands, not registering anything you had said to him until you had let go to sit. Gazing at his hand, he could still feel the weight of yours against it, slow to curl it into a fist now that you were no longer holding it.

He wanted to take your hand again, feel your smooth palm against his again. It made him wonder if it would be the same if you hugged him. Would he still feel the weight of your arms around his neck? Would your body imprint against his after the embrace? Those thoughts were quick to lead him to wonder if he was to kiss you, would he still feel your lips against his? Would they be as soft as they looked?

“Jihoon?” Your voice filtered through his clouded thoughts, your head tilted in curiosity. “Are you going to sit? Should we find a bench instead?”

It was then he realized that he was still standing while you were now sitting and was using your bag as a table for the container and the sweet treats inside it. The very ones that you were excited for him to try and brought him to this moment.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, awkwardly sitting next to you on the grass, ignoring that it was still slightly damp from the morning dew. You didn’t seem to notice or care, so why should he? “So these are the lemon and orange bars?”

“Yes, and they are so good.” You lift the container lid to show him the lemon and orange curds resting on what looked like a pie crust type and topped with powdered sugar. The sweet smell of lemons and oranges met his nose, and he glanced up toward you. “Try the lemon first.”

He tentatively takes one of the yellow squares while you took the other, but you were too focused on watching his reaction; causing you to miss your mouth and hit your cheek instead. Jihoon couldn’t stop himself from laughing at your antics, thinking you were even cuter than he already did. Especially when you glanced at him to see if he had caught your blunder, not realizing that there was a little lemon left on your cheek.

Then he did something that neither of you expected. He reached over and swiped it away with his thumb before slipping it into his mouth, tasting the balance between the sweet and tartness. It left you sitting there stunned, mouth slightly open, eyes wide and completely speechless by the action. Heat started to burn at your cheeks, and there was a shine to your eyes.

Different from the usual one he would see, this one was a little darker as if the simple action did something more to you. One that Jihoon was hoping he wasn’t misreading, making his gaze drop to your lips. Parted slightly from his action; soft, plush, and inviting. He wanted to kiss away the surprised expression until you were giggling and smiling again.

Maybe one day he would be able to.

“You okay?” His question brought you back from your daze, with it being him to tilt his head in curiosity. Except that smile was more of a smirk now, attempting to hold onto this sudden boldness that was coursing through him.

“Uh, yeah…I just…” You break away from his gaze to look down at the lemon bar in your hands, your bottom now trapped between your teeth. You cast a glance back up to him, not expecting his focus to be on you; with a dark strand of hair falling over his brown. Just him sitting there looking at you like this made you struggle with your words. “Truth is… I...” You look like you were going to say something, or trying to get the courage to, before taking a slow deep breath. Looking at him again, you were now wearing a shy smile, “Let’s eat.”

Jihoon was a little disappointed when you changed the subject and possibly would have worried that he was overstepping had it not been for the way you were looking at him. Or how they were looking at his lips then back to his eyes. While he would be the first to admit that he not always the best at knowing if someone was interested in him, there was no mistaking that you had some interest in him.

Taking a bite of the treat, he took his time chewing it. Tasting the familiar lemon that he swiped off your cheek, now mixed with the crust and the powdered sugar. It was good, but he was more interested in your reaction, and the way your eyes lit up. Waiting for his reaction and/or opinion on it.

Swallowing, he took another bite before licking his lips of the powdered sugar and crumbs.

“Well?” You asked, and he nodded.

“It’s good.” He kept his response simple, finishing what was left in his hand. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the way your face then lit up, a happy smile stretching over your lips and back was that little bounce you had to you.

“Isn’t it? Wait until you try the orange one. It will change your life.” You hadn’t even taken a bite of yours yet, but you were already to grab the orange bar for him. This made him chuckle and shake his head.

“How about you finish the one in your hand, and then we can enjoy the orange ones together?” He suggested, feeling himself grow more comfortable with you by the second. How did he end up getting so lucky you were willing to spend your Saturday with him?

“Oh, okay…” Your words seemed to come out almost breathless, sucking in your bottom lip before releasing it and taking a bite of the bar in your hand. Jihoon couldn’t tear his gaze from your lips, now coated with powdered sugar before you tried to lick it all away.

Just that small action made his heart quicken and his breath catch. It made him think of how much sweeter this treat would taste on your lips, even better on your tongue. Shaking his head, he needed to get these thoughts out of his head, feeling borderline delusional almost.

“I seriously love these,” You told him, with it helping shake the thought of kissing you and brought his focus back to you sitting in front of him. You had taken the last bite of your lemon bar, looking at him as you did. Powdered sugar still all over your face, despite your attempts to lick it all away, his smile changing to a slight amused one. Only it made you blink in confusion, “Do I have something on my face?”

“You’re…” Jihoon let out a soft chuckle, motioning around his mouth as he said this, “You’re covered in powdered sugar.”

“Oh, shit, really?” You turned toward your bag to pull something before turning back with a playful smile now on your lips, before tapping them, “I can actually say the same thing for you.”

Jihoon’s hand flew up to his own mouth, wiping away the sugar that had collected at the corner of his lips, the blush that had subsided back with a vengeance. You giggled before reaching for his hand, cleaning the clumped up powder with a small blue handkerchief.

You didn’t let go right away, allowing him a better chance to feel how soft your hands were against his rougher ones, holding onto him longer than you probably should have but neither of you seem to care. When you finally let go, the ghost of your hand still lingered on his while you sat the handkerchief down and grabbed the remaining two bars.

“Now it is time to finally come to life.” You tease, handing over the bar, once more taking your time to move your hand away.

“I think I already did,” He said softly, not talking about the bars, and this time you wouldn’t look at him, paying attention to the orange treat in your hands. Together the two of you took a bite, and Jihoon couldn’t help but agree with you. The lemon bar was good, though he probably only liked it because you were there, but this one was actually delicious. “Wow.”

“Right?! Life changing.” You sigh happily, chewing happily at the pastry. “Do you come to these things often?”

“No, actually.” Jihoon answered honestly, already finishing the bar and you handed him the handkerchief to wipe away the sugar. “I typically just stay home, and if I need anything, I can just go by the corner shop.” He looks around the crowd of people to see if he could catch a glimpse of Wonwoo and Adri, but no luck. “My friend Wonwoo and his wife dragged me along today.”

“Oh, so here against your will I take it?” You ask, taking your time eating as you watched him with a curious gaze. He nodded. “Well, I don’t know how you feel about it, but I am happy that you were forced to come. I mean, how else will you try these amazing treats?”

“Me too,” He answered with a laugh, and the two of you slipped into a light conversation. With you asking him random questions about himself, which he answered, and you then answered his questions.

The fruit bars now long gone, but neither of you moved from your place in the grass. Not caring about the people walking by you, or the curious glances of people that knew you both. Lee Jihoon and you, sitting together, with you talking animatedly to him, laughing together, and he looked at you like you hung the sky.

“I should probably see where these two are.” Jihoon said at one point, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call Wonwoo. Honestly, he had almost completely forgotten that he had lost his friend in the crowd hours earlier, lost in talking with you. Hitting the call button on his friend’s contact, he held the phone to his ear as it rang.

Wonwoo answered after the first couple of rings.

“Hey, where you guys at?” As he listened to his friend’s response, Jihoon’s eyes stayed on you while you closed up the container that once held the bars. You were doing your best to not give away that you were listening in or hiding the look of disappointment on your face.

You were about to say your goodbyes and go your separate ways. Back to normal life, back to him just being a patron of the shop you work at, and back to you wishing you could say more. Hoping he would say more.

Fate can be a funny thing though. Since Wonwoo and Adri had left nearly an hour earlier and didn’t tell him.

“What you mean you two left?” Jihoon’s voice change caused you to look at him, watching the smile he was wearing turn to a deep frown. “I came with you guys. Why didn’t you call me, or come find me?”

“Sorry, Adri was getting a headache so I took her home so she can lay down. I was going to call you but…” Jihoon cut him off by an annoyed tsk, which he was sure was making his friend feel guilty. “Do you want me to come get you?”

“Jihoon.” You said softly, leaning toward him, stopping him from agreeing for his friend to come pick him up. He raised a brow at you, and you gave him a hopeful smile, “I can take you home or back to your car… Wonwoo doesn’t have to come all the way back to get you.”

“You sure?” He asked, proud of himself that he is keeping as calm as he was outwardly, because inside he felt like he was freaking out. He didn’t want to inconvenience you, even if you offered, but he also wasn’t exactly wanting to leave you yet.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” He was suddenly aware of how close you two actually were and that you were touching his arm. Your touch barely felt under the layers of clothes, but he could still feel the warmth coming from it.

“You know what, don’t worry about it.” Jihoon said into the phone after a minute, witnessing before his eyes as you lit up in a way that he hadn’t seen before. Hanging up with his friend, he couldn’t help but say something. “You seem excited to take me home.”

“What can I say?” Giving him a wink, you stood to brush the dirt off the back of your jeans before offering him your hand. Which he took and you helped him stand, and with your bottom lip between your lip you add. “I’m not ready to stop hanging out just yet.”

If you were able to see inside Jihoon’s chest, you would be able to see how quick his heart was beating and that his lungs were almost robbed of breath. There was no mistaken the way you were looking at him, eyes filled with adoration and how you were chewing your bottom lip, that you were interested in him. Interested in spending more time with him.

And it was not lost on either of you that you were still holding onto each other’s hands.

“Good, because I’m not either.”

It was well past one when you left the market together, with you talking animatedly as you lead him to your car. Your palm pressed against his clammy one, but you didn’t care so neither did he. Jihoon had left his car at Wonwoo’s, since he had rode with the couple that morning, and it surprised him when you told him you knew exactly where they lived.

“I know Adri through Ruby.” You told him when he went to question you, grabbing and handing over a large CD binder from behind you before buckling in. The bright blue binder heavy in his hands, “We’re taking the long way there though, so pick some tunes.”

“You still use CDs?” Jihoon asked, looking through the pages full of CDs, impressed that you still used them. So many, like him, had switched to playing music through an app on their phone or programmed into their car.

“It’s either that or the radio.” You tell him, “And I don’t feel the need to have some fancy Bluetooth set up in my car. Besides there is still something special about listening through a CD instead of through some app. Be sure to buckle up.”

Jihoon let out a laugh, doing as you told him, buckling in and choosing a CD from one of the pages. A Bruno Mars album. You pull off as the music started to play, and he turned it down so that you didn’t have to yell over it to be heard.

You weren’t lying when you said you were going to take the long way back to the couple’s home, taking as many back streets as possible. Conversations continued naturally like it had at the market, and of course you ended up rambling. Though this time you managed to keep it to three different stories that somehow intertwined, but he didn’t mind as long as he got to hear your voice and laugh more.

The afternoon sun shined bright through the car window, making you attempt the drop the visor and slip on the sunglasses that fell down; especially since the visor did nothing to help shield you from the rays. Leaving you grumbling between your responses in the conversation.

When you finally got to your destination, Jihoon didn’t make any motion to get out of the car. He stayed there so you could finish your story about when your cat got stuck in your ceiling.

“I had to call my brother, and he’s allergic to cats so it took so much convincing.” You sigh, dropping your head back against the headrest then looked his direction. Realizing that you may have taken over most the airtime in the car ride. “Sorry, I am rambling again.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind it.” He answered, waving off your concern before flashing you a grin. “Means I don’t have to as much.”

“I do it a lot when I’m nervous, but something tells me that if I can shut up long enough, you’d be a chatter box.”

“Do I make you nervous?” Jihoon asked you, watching with mild amusement as you realized what you had just said.

“Oh… uh… yeah, a little.” You stuttered out, looking down at your steering wheel before licking you lips. “I…” You let out a laugh, nervous but sweet sounding, “I…I kind of have a bit of a crush on you…”

“You do?” Turning your gaze toward him, you nodded which in turned made him laugh. “What you know…” Both of you suddenly became aware that you were now leaning toward each other. “I do too.”

A squeak left you before Jihoon finally closed the remaining distance to kiss you. It was brief, testing, but the soft pressure of your lips felt like heaven and the soft sigh that left you made him want to kiss you again.

“Wow…” Your voice was breathless, lightly brushing your fingers against you bottom lip, sitting back in your seat.

“I should get going…” Jihoon finally spoke after a moment, catching the way your nod was small and a little disappointing. He didn’t want to end this either, but if he didn’t get out of this car, he may never leave your side again. “Would you like to have dinner with me? Tomorrow night sound good?”

“I close the shop, but I can come by after if you don’t mind a late night dinner.” There was hopefulness in your eyes when you offered this but quickly blurted out. “Unless another night works better.”

“No, we can do a late dinner. My place?” You started to nod your head quickly in excitement, and it made him laugh at how cute you were being. Dropping his gaze to your lips, Jihoon had to hold himself back from diving in for another kiss. Part of him confident that this won’t be the last time he got to kiss them.

You exchange numbers, before he finally slipped out of the car after bidding you goodbye for now. His heart racing as he watched you pulled out of your parking spot, with a small wave and a smile that felt even better than the one you would give to anyone else.

This smile. It was just for Jihoon.

You were vibrating when you got back to your place, unable to contain the excitement or the cloud nine feeling that was coursing through you. The entire day felt like a dream but the gentle pressure of Jihoon’s lips lingering on yours was proof that it very much was real.

And now you were going to go on a date with him.

You barely were inside the small apartment before you were pulling out your phone to make a phone call. After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up.

“About time!” Adri’s voice filtered through the speaker. “I see that the plan worked?”

“It did! We’re having dinner tomorrow night.” You squeal into the phone, dropping back down onto your sofa and kicked your feet in excitement. “Adri, he’s so amazing… I didn’t want today to end, I didn’t want to leave him. I want to kiss him again.”

“Ugh, you are going to be even more insufferable about him now.” Her faux disgust made the two of you burst out into giggles.

Thank you for reading! I do hope you enjoyed this fic! I am not used to writing pure fluff so, but I did have fun writing this!

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He looks up when the bell chimes from the door. His eyes find you for only a second before dropping back to his hands, “they’re not dying,” he mutters but it feels like he’s saying that to himself as he looks at the stems again.

You huff a low-key silent laugh, and that’s how it starts.

You come back the next day… and the day after that, and the next. At first, it’s just excuses— your room needs flowers, your desk looks empty, you wanna make flower arts, you like damp earth and something sweet smelly of the shop, but eventually you stop pretending it’s about that. He starts recognizing you outside of his one of his customers but it doesn’t happen all at once or in any big, obvious way. It was more like: he stops asking what you want and just brings the ones you always pick; he sets aside the better blooms before they even make it to display; extra careful when making your bouquets; sometimes gifts you his best blooms instead of letting you buy them; he looks at the door a bit too long when the bell rings when he’s expecting you but it’s not you.

His name is Vernon. You learn it offhand from someone else calling for him in the back. He learns yours slowly after your 13th visit (yes, it was that slow).

He usually stands by the window when you come in while his sleeves are rolled and fingers kissed with green, that same cigarette smell clinging to him even when there’s nothing lit. But when he handles the flowers, everything feels different. He’s always so careful and passionate with his flowers. Most of the time, a smile will sit prettily on his pretty lips.

Sometimes you talk and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you just stand there while he works and hands you a bundle when he’s done without asking for anything in return but a, these should last a few days. And it’s nice… it’s so nice it kinda feels unreal like time slows down inside that shop and the world outside shush just enough for this to feel… separate.

As if it’s just the two of you suspended somewhere between blooming and something unnamed that neither of you touches but both of you feel.

For a while, it’s warm and enough.

—

The moment you step out of the college gates, you’re still half in your head.

Everything feels slightly delayed as your thoughts are walking a few steps behind your body.  Until you see him, you don’t even fully register the world outside.

He’s standing a little off to the side of the gate in his white T-shirt and blue jeans. Hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed but alertness in his eyes. Vernon. Just for a whole minute, your brain stalls… because he is not supposed to be here.

He sees you at the same time you see him. There’s a fraction of hesitation but then his hand lifts in a small wave.

Your eyes flutter and then you break into motion before you can overthink it, crossing the distance faster than your brain catches up, “Vernon?” you say when you reach him, breath still confused, “what are you doing here?”

“I—” his hand moves behind his back briefly, like he’s reconsidering something. Then he brings it forward without a… bouquet. It’s your flowers that you always pick. He holds them out like not entirely sure what reaction he’s supposed to get. “I noticed… you didn’t come by for a few days.”

You take the bouquet as your fingers brush his as you do, and your mind trips over itself trying to process this whole deal. “I—” you try to begin but then stop because suddenly explaining feels foreign to you. You don’t really know what to say in the first place. Your grip tightens around the stems, “I’ve been busy.”

His eyes run over your face like he’s checking something only he can see, “busy,” he repeats without questioning.

You sigh a half laugh and half exhaustion. “I had an interview prep for a big company. It’s… kind of important.”

There’s a change in his expression at that— lowkey, but present, “you didn’t tell me,” he says.

You shrug in a somewhat defensive way without meaning to be, “it’s not exactly florist shop conversation.”

He hums as if he accepts that, but doesn’t fully agree.

For a second, neither of you move. The field noise fills the gap but then he gestures slightly awkwardly in the direction of the street. “You’re walking?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He thinks for just a second to probably make a decision he didn’t plan for when he showed up here, “I’ll walk with you.”

It’s not phrased like a question, so you don’t argue and start walking.

At first, it’s quiet without being uncomfortable. You clutch the bouquet slightly tighter when you start feeling like you’re making him feel awkward by staying quiet 

“You didn’t have to come all the way here,” you say eventually.

He keeps his eyes forward, “you didn’t come for three days.” There’s no accusation in it but just a fact.

You glance at him, “that’s… kind of obsessive,” and laugh jokingly. “Just kidding.”

He glances back before looking away, “I thought something happened.”

That makes you slow your pace by a fraction, “I’m fine,” you say automatically.

He again looks at you briefly, “you don’t look fine.” You huff and don’t say anything, so after a few steps, he asks, “what was the interview for? Any topics?”

You hesitate, then answer. “CSE related. It’s mostly… competitive.”

He nods, “when is it?” he asks.

“Next week.”

“Okay,” he says and it’s just that.

You glance at him again, “okay?”

He finally turns his head slightly toward you with his expression calm but focused.  “You’re overthinking it,” he responds simply.

You feel dumbfounded, “I am not—”

“You are,” he cuts in like a nice man, “you’re treating it like it decides everything for you.” You open your mouth to argue but then realise there’s no point. Technically, he’s not wrong about it. He continues walking like it’s obvious, “you don’t need perfect answers but structured ones. If they ask behavioral questions, don’t improvise it mid sentence. Pick a framework and stick to it.”

You stare at him mouth open, “are you… interviewing me right now?”

“Am I?” he laughs, “I’m fixing your approach and not interviewing you.”

That earns a reluctant breath of laughter from you, “you’re very confident for someone who runs a flower shop,” you mutter.

“I also read,” he deadpan.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, by the way,” you imagine you should clear it up just in case.

“No, I know, no worries,” he responds. He continues, “if they ask about your weakness, don’t say something generic. They’ll know,” he says. “Say something genuine, but not tmi. Then explain how you’re working on it.”

You readjust your hold on the bouquet. “You’re weirdly good at this,” you tease.

He shrugs, “it’s just logic.”

You glance down at the pavement as you walk, “so everything is logic to you?”

“Most things,” he replies, but then he adds, “the rest is just noise you filter out.” You don’t respond and hum and continue walking beside him.

fter a while, you realize you’ve been walking longer than expected when even more familiar streets start appearing. You slow as your building comes into view and Vernon stops with you.

He looks up at it, “you’re home?” 

“Yeah,” you answer.

“Okay,” he says again. “I should go,” and then he moves and takes a step back. “You should rest before you study more.”

“Oh,” you scratch the back of your neck, “you don’t have to leave right away.” He goes still for a moment as you hesitate and continue more carefully, “you… discussed a lot. You can come in for a bit and help… If you want.”

His eyes flutter to you, matching your same exact hesitation, “that’s your home…,” he says.

“Yes,” you reply, “and?”

He quietly mutters, “I don’t usually go into people’s homes.”

“But I don’t usually get interview coaching in the middle of the street though.”

That earns the faintest smile in his expression and after a moment longer, he nods. “Alright,” he agrees. He doesn’t look fully convinced, but not fully resistant either, and so you lead him inside.

And now ir feels like the distance between florist shop and everything else doesn’t matter as much as you thought it did.

—

Your flat feels different the moment he steps inside and stands by the doorway awkwardly.

You walk up to him and close the door behind him, “you can sit anywhere,” you kick off your shoes,  “sorry, it’s not very—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts as he already starts looking around the room.

You take out the dead flowers and set the flowers he got you in your vase. He ends up sitting on the edge of your couch. The flowers are placed carefully on your vase— he adjusts it twices, then stops himself when he realizes he’s already done enough.

You disappear into the kitchen for a glass of water, mostly to give yourself a second to breathe.

When you come back, he’s looking at your desk where your notes are scattered with half written thoughts, highlighted papers, sticky notes. You see his eyes washing over them pretty quickly, reading without touching.

“You overprepare,” he says when you set the glass down.

“Is that bad?”

“It’s inefficient,” he says.

You snort, “that’s a very polite way to say yes.”

He looks at you like he’s considering whether that was a joke or a flaw in your logic.

Then, as if deciding it doesn’t matter, he nods, “you’re memorizing too much. You should be structuring instead.”

You sit down across from him as you pull your knees up on the couch. “Okay, professor. Teach me.”

He leans forward with his elbows resting loosely on his knees, “tell me properly about what the interview is testing.”

You go blank for a moment before answering, “uh… technical knowledge, communication, problem solving, behavioral…?”

“Stop,” he says immediately and you stop. He tilts his head, “that’s everything. That’s why you’re overwhelmed.” You stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate so that you don’t feel stupid. He continues, “break it down for yourself. What do you think they actually care about?”

You think about it for thirty seconds, “if I can think clearly under pressure?”

He nods, “right. So everything else is just tools to prove that.”

“Vernon, it sounds too simple,” you tell him skeptically.

“It is simple,” he takes your notebook, “you’re just scared of failing.”

You sigh. “Thanks for the emotional support, I guess.”

“That wasn’t emotional,” he says. “That’s just what’s happening.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance in it. He doesn’t really say anything before he walks back and sits down on the couch and leans back slightly, “let’s do a mock question,” he proposes.

“Right now?” you sit beside him anyway.

“You don’t fix anxiety by reading more, Y/N,” he eyes the contents you wrote in your note book. “I know this is important to you, so let’s fix it by exposure, hm?”

You pout, “you’re very serious for someone who sells roses.”

He ignores that completely, “tell me about a time you handled pressure.”

You’re caught off guard by this so serious question. But then you decide you should actually answer… so you start answering. At first, everything you said didn’t make any sense at all. You over explain, circle back, correct yourself mid sentence, stutter a million times. You see him clocking each of your hesitation but not in a mean judge way. He’s actually just taking it all in and noticing how you present yourself and your answers.

When you finish, you expect him to criticize it, but instead he says, “why are you trying to sound perfect?”

You just stare at him. This sounds like a very stupid question but you know Vernon. He doesn’t bluff things and actually knows what he’s saying. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Not really, no,” he shows you what he wrote in your notebook while you were answering his question, “you sound like you’re hiding something... Like, you know, you have something to hide. Just be direct.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Then practice it until it’s not.”

This somehow happens to help you more than you expect, so you try again. 

This time you try to be clearer with your words and you do. Your phrasing is better  and less afraid of pauses.

When you finish, there’s a second of silence before he smiles, “better.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

Something in your heart sighs in relief. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been talking until the light outside shifts— turning warmer and pulling shadows across the floor. At some point, the distance between you on the couch has shrunk without either of you noticing.

He’s leaning forward all while explaining about how to redirect questions when you don’t know the answer. You’re listening to him, but you watching him feels less like paying attention and more like wanting something you have absolutely no business wanting this badly— like it should literally be illegal and someone should step in right this moment and stop you from doing something to him. Not like you’ll do something actually bad or illegal but it can be borderline embarrassing, borderline concerning, and fully unstoppable if it starts. In a way, you know all of your friends would say, valid; mood; understandable, if they saw Vernon right now in this way. No, your brain needs to be supervised at all times around him and apologize to the air for even thinking it.

But the way his hands move when he emphasizes a point… when he looks at you like you’re a problem he’s decided to solve— sigh.

“You’re not bad at this,” your mouth moves before your dignity can intervene

He stops halfway through, momentarily thrown. “At what?”

Fuck it. “Everything you’re doing right now,” you clarify and dig your hole deeper.

He chuckles, “is it a compliment?”

“It is,” you drown in his brown eyes, “for you.”

That makes him look at you even more directly. The room goes quieter than it was a moment ago.

He doesn’t respond and instead just stares at you for sometime. You just know it, he’s trying to figure out what category that statement belongs to. Wish you could say some very redactable thingz to him. But then you realize, belatedly, that you’re still leaning slightly toward him. And he is too.

The words about interview prep faded somewhere in the background. You don’t know when it faded or the lines got even more blurry, exactly, but it wasn’t sudden. 

His gaze drops briefly to your lips, and then back to your eyes. Your lungs seem to forget how to breathe and your breath hitches, but neither of you moves— but everything between you does.

You whisper, barely aware you’re speaking. “Vernon…”

He exhales slowly through his mouth, looking at you, “don’t,” he says, but there’s no real warning in it. More like… restraint, like he’s holding himself still.

Your hand drifts slightly on the couch between you, and now suddenly the distance is almost gone now.

He leans in just an inch more and so do you. It’s not quite a kiss yet— but it’s close enough that you both feel it happen before it actually does… and then he stops. Forehead almost near yours with both of yours breath caught, eyes searching yours. “You have an interview,” he says so softly, it feels like it cost him something to say it.

Everything feels suspended to you for the longest time before he pulls back to break it.

He’s not leaving, but just not willing to cross that line. “I think I should go now,” he stands up.

“U-uh, already?”

“Yeah, it’s getting late. You should take breaks in between and sleep timely,” he adviced and you ended up just humming. He takes a bit of time before finally leaving, “see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

The interview happens and you go in with everything Vernon taught you. You do really well and objectively, it’s a success.

You answer clearly and don’t over explain yourself when they try to corner you. You also successfully redirected some questions just like he said. You heard his calm voice in the back of your head every time you felt like you’ll falter, but he kept telling you exactly how to move through.

You walk out of that building knowing you did well— really well; it’s better than you thought you could do. You should feel relieved… but the moment you walk out, your first instinct is to go and find him. You need to tell him, you need to see him, and that thought comes so naturally that it almost kinda irritates you at this rate. Because after that day in your flat, you couldn’t manage to meet him again.

Every time you went to the shop, he wasn’t there. At first, you didn’t think much of it since people have schedules and they get busy… but then it kept happening.

Clocked out early, Chee, her co-owner would say.

Didn’t come in yet.

Went to get seedlings.

Out for something.

Every single time. 

You’d stand there every time for a few minutes and nod to signal Chee that you understood and that it was okay. It was okay if you weren’t trying to read between the lines of something that didn’t make sense.

You thought Vernon enjoyed your company and thought after that day, he’d want to see you again like he said. At least that’s what was expected from, see you tomorrow. You didn’t think that day in your flat would be the last time you’d see him for a while. But then again, it was.

God, you tried so much. You came back again and again days in a row and left with flowers you barely looked at, just so you had a reason to stay for a few minutes longer and hope that he’ll walk in. You waited and waited but nothing. Even Chee started looking at you with sympathy after a while… she knew you weren’t just there for flowers anymore. You chatted with her and asked questions when she eventually understood what was going on. It’s not like she was oblivious to the fact. 

It’s starting to become the worst spring of your life…

Eventually, after enough times of you showing up and leaving disappointed, Chee sighed and scribbled something down. His address, she said, handing it to you.

You of course went and stood outside his place with your heart beating too fast for something that shouldn’t have been this serious. You knocked but there was no answer from the other side. 

You waited and nothing, you went again and still nothing. You don’t understand how coincidence can be this bad… like you’re not able to get the timing right at all?

So today, after your interview, you go back to the shop again because where else are you supposed to go? Other than his shop and home, you don’t know where else you can find him.

The bell rings again as you push the door open as the familiar scent of flowers wrap around you instantly. It’s not comforting anymore. 

You walk straight past the rows of flowers you used to admire; lilies, roses, tulips, daisies, barely sparing them a glance. Your eyes are on Chee who’s sitting on the counter like usual.

But you stop mid step when something catches your eyes from your peripheral vision. It pulls your gaze to the right and you turn your head… and there he is. Vernon?

Sitting exactly where he always sits and bundling flowers as he used to like nothing’s changed… like you haven’t spent days looking for him.

Your stomach hurts because of how fast it coils. You look back at Chee, she shrugs, and then you look back at Vernon. It feels like you’re the only one reacting unreasonably.

You walk straight to him. The closer you get, the stronger the smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes and whatnot, hits your senses. It makes your stomach twist but you push it down because right now, that’s not what matters.

He keeps making the flower bundles when he feels your presence and looks up, “congrats,” he congratulates you.

Without thinking too much, you grab the newspaper sitting on the table in front of him and throw it at him. It hits his shoulder and falls, crumpling slightly. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you snap.

He doesn’t react much except look at you for a second before looking down on the flowers again. He just keeps working quietly and that makes the anger inside you snap even more.

“I’ve been looking for you for days,” your words spill out. “Do you have any idea how many times I came here? How many times I asked for you?”

His hands keep wrapping and tying like you’re not even there. You know he’s not trying to make you even more angry or irritate you but he’s just not looking at you or saying anything.

“Every single time it’s ‘he’s not here,’ ‘he left early,’ ‘he didn’t come in yet,’— what is that?” you demand, “what, you just suddenly forgot how to exist in the same place at the same time as me?”

He keeps quiet and apparently have nothing to say for himself, at least that’s what you think.

“I went to your house,” you say, and your voice cracks just slightly before you force it to become normal. “I went there and you weren’t there either! I waited! I came back again and again.” 

He cuts a stem and bunch them together to avoid looking at you. What can he do? He can’t just say nothing and stare at you. He needs to keep his hands busy to not feel out of place. He doesn’t know how to approach this right now. How will he make you understand this right now without sounding insensitive when he hurted you so much?

“Do you know how insane that sounds?” you push. “That I’m going around looking for you like this and you’re just— what? Avoiding me? Disappearing? For what? What happened?”

Your hands clench at your sides looking at him doing his own thing.

“You don’t get to just do that,” you control yourself when you look around you and see Chee gesturing customers to leave or divert their attention to something else. You talk quietly now but the intensity is more than before, “you don’t get to come to my college, wait for me, give me flowers, walk me home, sit in my apartment, and then just vanish just like that.”

His movements slow in tying the ribbon for like thirty seconds, before continuing in his normal speed.

“I thou-ght you liked being around me,” you try your best to not let your voice crack again, but the words are coming out more vulnerable than you intended, “I thought— after that day that… that you’d at least want to see me again.” When you’re met with silence again, you laugh sarcastically, “was I wrong?” you ask, “or do you just not care enough to—”

You’re in the middle of speaking when you see it happen right in front of you. It’s not obvious enough for anyone else to catch, but you do. His focus starts to slip and slowly drifts somewhere else while still sitting right here. 

Your anger stutters and chest feels heavy for a completely different reason now. You stare at him, searching his face. “Are you even listening?” the bite in your voice fading to more vulnerable.

His eyes flutter as if he’s just come back, “yeah,” he replies.

Just that. Something in you breaks a little at how empty it sounds. You swallow as you feel your jaw tightening as you really look at him. Then, without another word, you grab a rose from a side table beside you and slam it down on the table in front of him.

You don’t wait for a response, turn and walk out.

You feel bad later in unavoidable waves. After you left the shop, the rose hit the table and you walked out without looking back, the anger that drove you forward started to drain out of you in jagged pieces. And what’s left behind is worse: silence… and him.

You keep replaying his eyes not staying present even when you were right there speaking to him— again and again. Like at this point, you’re trying to find the exact moment you should have said something different, and have noticed something was wrong instead of just being angry at what you couldn’t understand.

The next day, you go back to the shop… after not going there for several days.

He’s not there… again. Chee gives you the same answers with the same helpless shrug and the same, he’s not in today.

You again nod like you understand, but you really don’t. You don’t know what really happened all of a sudden. You knew he was distant, private and quiet but it never bothered you and the friendly relationship. But what happened now? You wait hours for him again anyway. Standing near the entrance, then sitting on the step outside, then standing again when your legs get too stiff, then sitting inside the shop. You watch customers come and go. Sometimes even watch the sunset.

He doesn’t come when you’re there, like before. And so, the next day, you try again, but there’s the same result. He’s not there. You start going earlier, stay even longer, and chang the times. You try morning, afternoon, evening but nothing matches. And it’s even harder after getting the job he helped you prepare for. You really want to meet him and try to fix things this time… It’s like he’s always just a few steps out of reach, like she keeps arriving at a place he’s already left.

Days pass and then, finally, after what feels like too many attempts to count, you see him.

It’s late and the light is fading into evening. You’re sitting outside his house when you notice movement at a distance— someone walking toward the house.

Your breath chokes before your mind even fully registers him. You stand up fast and kinda stumble in your rush.

“Vernon!” you call out, your voice breaks as you start to move toward him.

He slackens his strides at the sound of your voice. You come up to him quickly and stop in front of him as if you might lose him again if you don’t rush to him immediately.

Your hands start to shake, “I’m sorry,” you plead right away, “I’m sorry for that day. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, I wasn’t thinking, I was just— I was angry and confused and I-I didn’t— I didn’t think about you properly.”

You look at him as your throat starts to hurt. 

“I didn’t think about what you were dealing with. I just kept making it about me, and I shouldn’t have. I was sel—selfish, Vernon!” your voice cracks at the end, and you quickly look down to calm yourself, “I’m sorry…”

He’s not saying anything except keeping quiet again… when you look back up, your eyes already started to get blurry. Seeing that, Vernon hesitatingly cups your face. His ice cold hands on your cheeks startles you.

“Vernon…” you trail, “I looked for you,” you continue, holding his hands back, “I kept coming back to the shop, to your house. I didn’t even care if I was annoying anyone, I just— I just needed to see you. I thought I lost you because of me.”

You laugh weakly through it, but it doesn’t hold at all.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise again like it’s the only thing you know how to say properly right now. “I’m really sorry.”

A hush falls between you when you don’t speak anymore. Instead of saying anything or moving, he just opts to looking at you; the first time in a while, his gaze actually stays put.

He sighs when he decides to speak, “why did you keep coming back?” he asks.

Tears still caught at the edges of your eyes, “because I was scared I lost you,” you admit.

He looks away briefly, then back, “you didn’t lose me, Y/N.”

It’s not comforting… it makes your breath catch harder. Because it sounds like something he’s not entirely sure of either. “Are we good now?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry…”

“We are good.”

You hesitate for a moment after that, your fingers wrapped around his cold ones thinking letting go might undo everything you just managed to somewhat fix. Your chest is still tight but now that the apology is out and he hasn’t pushed you away, you don’t understand what else started to surface in your heart. Yes, you know you like this man, but it feels different.

You take a step back as your hands slip to his fingers, then finally letting go altogether, though you don’t move too far. Your eyes search his face, trying to read more than what he’s giving you.

“What happened?” you carefully ask. “That day… and after that. You just— why did you disappeared?” Uour brows pull together slightly. “I kept trying to find you, and you were never there… I don’t understand.”

He looks at you, then exhales, his eyes moving away just slightly past you before returning.  “It’s nothing,” he says.

You frown immediately. “It’s not nothing. I know.”

He tilts his head a little as if he expected that response, “I had stuff to deal with the next day,” he adds. “I wasn’t really… around because of that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay now but that’s not an explanation,” you press slightly. “You could’ve told me something. It’s that I thought you don’t wanna see me anymore. I was scared.”

His expression changes just slightly before it smooths out again, “I didn’t say that,” he replies.

“You didn’t say anything,” your eyes not leaving his.

There’s a brief silence, and for a moment, it feels like he might actually say something that explains the distance and his silence. Instead, he looks down shortly, then back at you, and shrugs just a little, “I’m here now,” he says.

Instead of responding to that, you ask, “how are you?”

“I’m okay,” he answers.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to explain everything to me right now if you don’t want to.” You stop before continuing. “But don’t just say you’re okay because you don’t want to tell me something. I’m not asking to fix anything or push you into talking— I just… want you to actually be okay… And if you’re not, that’s fine too. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

“I know,” he replies.

“Okay,” you smile. There’s a short silence after that, but it feels less uncomfortable from before.

He glances at you again, then at the road beside you, “did you eat?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“Did you eat?” he repeats a little more clearly.

“Um, yeah?”

He nods, “come on,” he turns and starts to walk.

You watch him for three seconds before following him a little confused but not questioning it. “Where are we going?” you ask, catching up to his side.

“There’s a place nearby,” he answers.

“A place for what?”

He glances at you briefly. “Ice cream.”

You stare at him, then let out a disbelieving breath of laughter, “I just cried in front of you and you’re taking me for ice cream?”

“It’s efficient, I think,” he shrugs. “Sugar helps.”

You chuckle but you can’t help the faint smile that pulls at your lips as you walk beside him.

The walk isn’t really long from his place. The spring air in the evening is cooler now as it brushes lightly against your skin. You’re still a little overwhelmed and emotional, but being next to him again, walking like this, makes it easier to breathe.

You reach a small stand, nothing really fancy, just a small place with a few options written on a board. He steps up without hesitation.

“What do you want?” he asks, glancing back at you.

You step closer as you scan the options before answering, “chocolate.”

He nods, then turns back and orders without overcomplicating it. A minute later, he hands you the cone while his fingers brush yours again, just briefly.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

He gets one for himself too, though he doesn’t start eating it immediately. Instead, he leans lightly against the side of the stand, looking out at the empty street as birds come and go. You take a small bite of the ice cream (you’ve always bite ice cream), the sweetness melting in your tongue, calming you.

You glance at him after eating a few bites, “you’re not going to eat yours?”

“I will.”

“You always say that, phrase it differently,” you joke to lighten the mood. That earns a faint, almost absent smile from him. You watch him for a second longer then look away as you focus on your delicious ice cream again. The tension from earlier hasn’t fully disappeared, but it’s… better now. Ya know, manageable? You nudge him with your elbow. “You know, for someone who disappeared for days, you’re acting very normal right now.”

“I am normal,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, “debatable.” He exhales out something between a sigh and a chuckle. You take another bite, then glance at him again. “You’re really okay?”

He looks at you with that silence again. That split second where it feels like he might actually say something about the ordeal or his feelings about literally just about anything. Then he nods, “yeah,” he says, “I am.”

You study his face for a moment for anything that contradicts it. From where you stand, it just seems like he’s… being himself— quiet and a little distant, keeping to himself. So you nod and decide to believe him. “Okay,” you whisper in the evening breeze.

At first, it’s just the normal things that you tell yourself that it doesn’t mean anything on their own. But as time goes by, you notice little tremor in his fingers when he hands you change, his eyes stay unfocused when you’re talking like your voice is coming from somewhere far away and he’s trying to catch up to it. The cigarette smell that wraps around him even on days when he insists he hasn’t smoked yet, like the air itself is giving him away. You told him to stop being like this and start taking care of himself, but kids nowadays don’t wanna listen. 

You stand across the counter one afternoon as you watch him rearrange a bundle of lilies that are already perfectly fine— at least to you— and you think, he’s just tired, that’s all, people get tired.

But then he sighs as if the air itself hurts coming out, and then you catch the empty bottle tucked half hiidden under the counter when he bends down to grab scissors.

It doesn’t fit with how he handles flowers so carefully, passionately and delicately. He told you that he treats them like they’re alive and talking. None of his self destructive behaviour now fits with how he remembers exactly which ones you like without asking, how he treats the elderly, the shop, the animals. Still, you don’t say anything at first as the fear of invading his personal space keeps you to yourself. You’re scared that he’ll again hide away from you. But you keep coming back. 

Because it’s easier to believe you’re overthinking than it is to believe something is wrong and you don’t know how to fix it.

One day, you lean against the counter while he’s wrapping a bouquet for another customer. You watch his jaw tighten just a bit when the customer leaves. You don’t know why but after observing him for a few more seconds, it felt as if something inside him unclenches and breaks loose at the same time. But what? He keeps things to himself most of the time. You’d think the two of you would be close after knowing each other for about three months now, but no—you don’t really know him as him, as Vernon. He’s quiet and charming and speaks in a way that makes you feel like you know everything, but in truth, you actually know nothing about him personally..It makes you a little sad that he keeps his door closed, but who are you to wish it would open for you?

You clear your throat, “do you ever… sleep properly?” you try to make it sound like you’re asking about the weather instead of how he looks a little too hollow under the shop lights.

His hands stop for half a second, just half, then he continues tying the ribbon, “I sleep,” he replies.

You tilt your head, not convinced, “that’s not what I meant.”

That finally makes him look at you. But not fully or straight on— just a  quick, somewhat guarded glance as always. It’s him deciding how much of himself is safe to show you today, “I’m fine,” he adds after that second… and that should end the conversation.

Well, it doesn’t. It doesn’t end today.

Fingers tap lightly against the wooden counter as you’re now suddenly aware of how quiet the shop is when no one is talking. The bell on the door hasn’t rung in a while. “You’re not,” you say anyway.

His mouth twitches, almost like a smile but not quite, “you don’t know that.”

“I do,” you reply immediately, but you hate how certain you sound. Feels like you’ve already decided something about him you’re not allowed to decide. You shouldn’t but that ends up making him stop properly this time.

The ribbon is halfway tied and his fingers stay there frozen around it. For a second, you think he’s going to get angry, or shut down completely, or tell you to leave and never come back and show your down bad pathetic shameless face again. Instead, he exhales through his nose and looks away,“you shouldn’t keep coming here everyday,” he says.

The words stabs sharper than they should that doesn’t match the softness of everything else between you. Your stomach tightens but you force your voice to stay normal, “why?”

He shrugs one shoulder because you know, it’s nothing to him. At this point, in the way he’s now acting toward you, it doesn’t matter… like he doesn’t matter. “Because it’s a shop,” he says. “People come and go.”

You hate that answer. You don’t hate it because you think it’s wrong, but because it’s so easy for him to say. So you step a little closer, just enough that you can see the shadow under his eyes more clearly with the exhaustion that’s not sitting right on his face. “I don’t come here just for the flowers,” you tell him, and it feels like something small inside you feels scared and embarrassed when you say it out loud.

It finally makes him look at you properly. It’s not through you or past you, but at you. There’s something there— confusion maybe, or fear, orr both tangled together so tightly it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

You swallow, because now that you’ve started, stopping feels worse. “I keep thinking…” you continue as you choose every word, “if I stay long enough, you’ll stop looking like you’re always halfway gone.” His jaw tightens again for the nth time after that customer left, but he doesn’t interrupt. You continue anyway but still unsure even though you’re standing your ground. “You act like nothing stays with you, but I see you. And I think— maybe you just… don’t let anything stay long enough.”

He chuckles but it’s disbelieving, “you’re wrong.” But it doesn’t sound like he’s correcting you and instead, it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself… you end up staying around a little longer even when he looks away again as he reaches for the cigarette behind his ear like it’s a habit he forgot you were watching. You stay.

Some part of you is convinced by now that if you just keep being there for him and just keep talking, keep asking, keep minding his business, keep standing there pretending you should be in the space he’s trying so hard to disappear into— he might eventually choose not to vanish… even if he doesn’t know how to do that yet.

Days basically go by normally, except that you see Vernon get more into his now addiction. You try to stop him from doing this to himself when he starts to seem just slightly out of sync with everything around him more frequently, but he’s not the one to listen to others. He has a lot of knowledge about different things, but even if he knows the harm, he doesn’t care.

After that day, he does start to warm up to being a little more normal towards you and stops telling you not to come every day. He sometimes comes by your college and drops you at your place and sometimes even comes inside and chats for a bit, but he never stays for long. He always leaves just when it starts to feel like he might stay a bit longer to give you company. And every time he does, your mind drifts back to that almost kiss and what could have been. You’re just pathetically in love with him, but you can’t have him like this. You don’t know if he knows by now, but maybe he does or maybe he doesn’t.

Whenever Vernon steps out— whether it’s for a smoke break or to get something for the shop like seedlings—, you end up chatting with Chee. Over time, you’ve come to understand that she’s a smarter and more sympathetic woman than you initially thought, that’s one thing you learned about her during your time here for the last few months now. She’s perceptive, kind, and knows when to listen and just silently observe without asking too many questions. And another thing you learned is that she’s obsessed with her husband, who also happens to be obsessed with her— and for some odd reasons… tigers —, just as much.

His name is Soonyoung, and he comes by sometimes to see his wife often, and whenever Vernon isn’t around, you end up spending time with the two of them instead. They make up for the inconsistency you feel with Vernon. Slowly like this, you create a really nice relationship between you and Chee and her husband, Soonyoung. Vernon’s relationship with you is always on and off— sometimes everything’s good and he’s interacting as usual, and sometimes he’s just… distant.

Vernon, on the other hand, is unpredictable even if he warmed up but still, these days he’s a bit distant. Some days he’s present, talking to you like nothing is wrong, like everything is fine. Other days, he drifts so far into himself that you feel like you’re standing next to someone you don’t know. Lately, it’s been more of the latter, and it makes you uneasy… especially today.

Chee and Soonyoung have invited both of you to dinner, and you can’t help worrying that the dinner might be awkward. You don’t want the tension to follow you there and sit at that table and feel like something between you and Vernon is unfinished.

You didn’t really know their address at first, but they sent it to you, and Chee insisted that Vernon pick you up. You like to think that Chee did it intentionally.

You spend a little longer than usual getting ready. The cream colored A-line dress fits you perfectly, its fabric blooming with hand drawn ink sketches of roses. The puffy sleeves sit just right on your shoulders, and the row of onyx-colored buttons down the center pulls everything together neatly, cinching at your waist before the skirt flares out in soft pleats. You really do love this dress. For a moment, you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing your hands over it, wanting to admire it just a little longer. but, soon enough, your phone buzzes.

Vernon sends you a text saying he’s outside. 

You grab your bag and head down before you can overthink anything. When you step outside, you see Vernon standing there, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but still casual enough.

“You’re here,” you greet him, and he hums in response as he instinctively comes closer to you.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, his eyes remaining on yours.

“Y-yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything except that he has already called an Uber and that you can go there by Uber instead of walking. You expected that anyway since they live a bit far

The ride itself is a bit quiet, but it’s more than okay than an awkward tense silence. You focus on the passing lights and buildings outside, letting your thoughts drift for a bit while Vernon stays on his phone.

“I’d like to talk to you after dinner,” he suddenly informs you.

“About what?” It’s a bit weird for Vernon to tell you he wants to talk like this. Not that you’re very worried, but with his mood lately, you’re kind of worried, yeah.

“You’ll… know,” he responds just like that without any more elaboration.

“Oh—okay.”

“You… you look beautiful, by the way,” he comments, and your eyes almost come out of your socket hearing that. You were kind of expecting him to say something but also weren’t, so it makes you both shy and surprised.

“Thank you,” you simply reply as a tiny hint of red that is not quite a blush creeps up on your cheek.

The rest of the ride passes quickly after that, and before you know it, you’re standing outside Chee and Soonyoung’s house. You check your purse, making sure you have what you brought for them, while Vernon stands beside you holding a box of chocolates. He presses the calling bell, and in no time, Chee opens the door and greets you both in a hug.

“You’re finally here!” she beams, pulling you in first before reaching for Vernon as well.

“We made it,” you say with a big smile.

“Come in, come in, I’ve been waiting,” she adds, stepping aside to let you both in.”

Upon entering, the first thing you smell is the smell of blueberry pie. “Mhm, is that blueberry pie?” you ask enthusiastically, your eyes sparkling.

“Yes, your favourite,” Chee chuckles at your expression.

“Oh my—” you exclaim, and Chee pats your head before gesturing you toward the dinner area.

“Dinner is almost ready,” she announces as you and Vernon take a seat beside each other at the table.

“Wait… do you smell that?” she suddenly stops, sniffing the air, her brows pulling together slightly.

You follow her eyes as she sniffs again, and then she abruptly turns and rushes toward the kitchen.

You and Vernon exchange a quick look before standing up and following her. The moment you step into the kitchen, you’re met with the sight of Chee hurriedly taking a pan off the stove and placing it under the sink, water running over it as a faint sizzling sound fills the air. Soonyoung stands beside the stove, shoulders slightly slumped, looking exactly like a wet, sad puppy caught doing something wrong.

“Did you burn it again?” Chee huffs  as she turns off the tap and inspects the pan.

Soonyoung looks at her, then at the pan, then back at her, “it wasn’t burning… it was just— getting darker,” he mutters, clearly trying to defend himself.

You press your lips together trying not to burst out laughing, while Vernon, beside you, looks entirely unsurprised.

“That is literally what burning is,” Chee deadpans, unimpressed as she sets the pan aside.

“I followed the instructions!” Soonyoung insists, gesturing vaguely toward the counter.

“Did you?” she questions, raising a brow.

He hesitates, “mostly.”

You can’t hold it in anymore and let out a small laugh, covering your mouth slightly, “it smells good though… kind of,” you say, trying to help.

Soonyoung immediately looks at you like you’re his only ally. “See? She gets it.”

Chee sighs, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips now, “you’re not helping him,” she says to you, though her tone is light.

“You should just let her cook,” Vernon speaks up.

Soonyoung turns to him with mild betrayal, “whose side are you on?”

“The side that wants edible food,” Vernon replies without missing a beat.

That makes you laugh again, the tension from earlier easing just a little as you lean slightly closer to him without realizing it. He doesn’t move away.

Chee waves her hand dismissively, “alright, out. All of you. I’ll fix this before it gets worse.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Soonyoung mutters, already stepping back from there with utmost obedience and you all follow him out.

Once all of you are sitting at the table, the atmosphere becomes even more warm. The food is genuinely good and it shows in the way everyone gobbles down the food cooked by Chee with the ‘help’ of her lovely husband without hesitation.  Vernon sits beside you quieter than the others, but not distant enough to make you uneasy, and that alone feels like a relief.

Conversation ripples naturally, moving from small things to random stories and back again, and you realize there is no awkwardness, no tension pressing down on you like you feared earlier. You find yourself responding without overthinking, and slowly, the anxiety  of awkwardness you carried here, dissolves. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this until now. Sitting here, surrounded by people who feel comfortable to be around, you start thinking ahead without meaning to; imagining inviting them over to your place, planning what you’d cook, how you’d set things up, what it would be like to spend more time like this outside of the florist shop. The thought makes you excited already.

And it hits you clearly that you haven’t felt this way about spending time with people— anyone other than Vernon— in a long time. The realization doesn’t take away from him, but it gives you something that doesn’t depend on whether he stays or leaves. And for the first time in a while, that makes you genuinely happy about it all.

Chee eventually stands up to bring dessert, her expression bright as she carries the blueberry pie over and begins slicing it carefully. “I hope you’re still not full,” she says as she places a slice in front of you.

“Never,” you reply immediately and lean forward a little as the familiar sweet scent reaches you again.

Soonyoung watches the plate like it’s something he’s proud of. It’s probably something that he’s proud of, actually. “I told you she’d love it,” he says, glancing at Chee with a big, proud grin.

“You say that about everything I make,” Chee responds, though there’s clear affection in her voice. You’ll never get tired of watching their love for each other.

“Because everything you make is good,” he insists without any hesitation, chin up.

Again, you can’t help but smile at that, watching the way they show love and affection and support so naturally. “This looks amazing,” you add, picking up your fork.

Vernon looks at your plate briefly, then at you, “you’ve been talking about this since you walked in,” he recalls.

You glance at him, slightly embarrassed, “it’s important,” you reply, and he huffs a faint, almost amused breath in response. “I love blueberry pie!” The pie tastes exactly how you hoped it would; sweet, soft, and just a little tart, and you don’t bother hiding your reaction. “This is literally perfect,” you say, looking at Chee.

“I knew it,” she replies with a chuckle. “I made it specifically because you like it.” That only makes you smile more.

Eventually, dinner comes to an end, plates are cleared, and the conversation slows into random comments here and there as everyone leans back into their seats. It’s only then, as things begin to wrap up, that realization hits you. You fucking forgot.

Your hand immediately goes into your bag, your expression changing to nervousness as you sit up straighter. “Wait—” you start, a little flustered. “I completely forgot something.”

Chee looks at you curiously, “hm?” At the same time, she reaches for the box Vernon brought and hands a few chocolates toward you. “Before that, take these.”

You stare at her momentarily distracted as you accept the box with a, thank you, before quickly shaking your head. “No, wait— I actually brought something too,” you still fighting how deep your bag is [do you understand the reference? pls say you do].

You pull out two small black boxes and hand them over one to Chee and one to Soonyoung. 

“It’s nothing big,” you quickly add, a little self-conscious now. “I just… wanted to get you something.”

They both look surprised but pleased as they take the boxes and open them almost at the same time. Inside are the bracelets— simple but meaningful since each is engraved with the other’s name. There’s a silence as they take it in.

Soonyoung looks at his first, then at Chee’s, then back at you, “This—this has her name on it,” he says softly with his doe-like eyes. It’s the nth time that this man is giving you cuteness aggression tonight.

Chee lifts hers slightly as her fingers brush over the engraving, “and this one has his,” her voice so much more gentler than before.

You move in your seat as now you’re suddenly feeling like you’re the center of attention. The brackets weren’t exactly easy to buy with your college budget, but it didn’t feel like a waste. Not for them after they’ve become so important to you. “I just thought… it would be nice,” you say. “Since you both— I mean… yeah, you’re both important to me.”

There’s a moment of silence again, but this time it feels full instead of uncertain.

Chee smiles first, a genuine, soft expression as she looks at you. “This isn’t small at all,” she reaches out to touch your hand. “It’s really thoughtful, honey.”

Soonyoung nods along, already trying to put his on, “yeah, this is— this is actually really cool,” he adds, fumbling slightly before laughing at himself. “I love it. Thank you, Y/N.”

Vernon, beside you, doesn’t say anything immediately, but you can feel his gaze on you. When you glance at him, he’s already looking, something unreadable in his expression. “You didn’t tell me you were getting them something like this,” he says.

You shrug lightly, trying to play it off. “I wanted it to be a surprise. And I didn’t know that you’d like to know anyway.”

He nods like he understands and accepts that, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer before looking away. 

Chee again insists that you leave with Vernon and not on your own, and he obviously doesn’t protest. He calls an Uber this time as well, and the two of you ride it in almost complete silence, but again, it’s not uncomfortable at all. In fact, you’re strangely happy about it, because this feels like him being normal. He has always been a bit quiet when he’s normal, keeping to himself unless he has something to say, and right now, he seems exactly like that.

The late night city lights pass by outside the window, reflecting faintly on the glass as you lean slightly toward it, watching everything blur into soft streaks of color. Beside you, Vernon scrolls through his phone, and after a moment, your phone buzzes. You glance down to see him sending you all the pictures from tonight— the ones of the food, the house, Chee and Soonyoung, their cat and dog, the group pictures, and even the ones you didn’t know he took. There’s a solo picture of you, one where you weren’t even looking at the camera, and a couple of selfies the two of you took together. 

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips as you scroll through them, your fingers sliding on that one picture of you. “You took this?” you glance at him.

He nods slightly without looking up, “hm.”

“It’s nice,” you say, and he hums in acknowledgment.

Without thinking too much about it, you post a story on Instagram, picking a few pictures in a collage. 

The rest of the ride passes quietly, and before you know it, the car slows down in front of your building. You take your bag and step out. You turn back, bending slightly down to say goodbye to Vernon through the open car door.

But before you could, he’s already out of the car as well.

You straighten up, confused, “why are you getting out?” you ask, watching him as he closes the door behind him.

He looks at you with his calm but unreasonable expression. “I told you,” he says. “I needed to talk to you.”

The reminder makes your chest tighten as you nod even though you’re not entirely sure why you suddenly feel uneasy. “Right,” you remember.

There’s a moment of silence as the Uber drives away, leaving the two of you standing under the road light outside your building, “I can’t do this anymore,” he decides to speak up.

The words don’t register at first. They feel too sudden from everything that just happened. “What?” you ask, your brows pulling together slightly, confusion and anxiety already settling in. You have no idea where this is going but you’re not feeling one bit good about this.

Sighing, his gaze moves away from you for a moment before coming back, “this,” he repeats, whispering. “Whatever this is.”

Your chest tightens, and you take a step closer without realizing it, “what are you talking about?” you ask, your voice softer but more urgent this time around. “Nothing happened. We were just— we just had dinner, everything was fine.”

He shakes his head slightly as if that’s exactly the problem. “That’s not what I mean,” he clarifies.

“Then what do you mean?” your confusion starts to mix with desperation, “you can’t just say that and not explain anything.”

He looks at you again, and there’s something heavier in his expression now. “Y/N… I know how you feel,” he admits it to you. Your breath catches, a lump forming in your throat. “And I can’t return that,” he adds.

It hits you like a fucking asteroid at a speed of 3.00 × 10⁸ m/s.

You stare at him, trying to process it and understand how the conversation and situation changed so quickly into something you weren’t prepared for. “You don’t—” you start, then stop, then start again as your voice falters before you push through, “you don’t even know what I feel.”

“I do,” he whispers like if he wishes he didn’t

Your chest rises and falls unevenly as your hands fists at your sides. “And even if you do,” you continue, your voice trembling now despite your effort to keep it without breaking, “yo-u don’t just decide something like that on your— your own. You don’t just end it without even trying.”

“There’s nothing to try!” he raises his voice just a bit, almost unnoticeable, but enough to make you flinch. “Sorry…” he apologises, wide eyes when he sees you flinch back.

“There is!” you insist, stepping closer again, your eyes searching his face. “If— if you think this isn’t going anywhere, then we can figure it out. Together. I’m not forcing anything, I’m just— I’m asking you to not shut it down before it even starts.”

He watches you, and there’s something almost conflicted in his gaze, but it fades just as quickly as it appears. “I’m leaving.”

You stand quiet, feeling out of place before speaking, “what?” you whisper.

“I’m leaving the city,” he continues, his tone controlled… almost too controlled. “I’ll tell Chee tonight. Then I’m… gone.”

You shake your head immediately to reject the idea yourself. “That doesn’t make sense,” this time your voice rising slightly, “you can’t just leave like that. You have the shop, Chee—”

“I know,” he cuts in gently. “It’s not the most logical decision.”

“Why? Then why?” you demand, your voice breaking despite yourself. “Why would you do something like that?”

He exhales, looking away for a second before meeting your eyes again, “because staying is worse.” 

You stare at him dumbfounded but your mind still racing to try to catch up and find something that makes sense.

“Did you ever feel anything?” you ask suddenly when he’s not saying anything more. What else does he have to say, anymore? “Even a little?”

There’s a pause from him… a long one. “That’s not the point,” is the answer he comes up with.

“It is to me,” your voice shaking after hearing him. “Be-because I need to know if I was just… imagining everything.”

“You weren’t,” he says. If he thinks it’ll make you feel any better, he’d be wrong. So fucking wrong. It only makes it hurt more.

“Then why?” you ask again, even softer, almost pleading. You’re just this 🤏🏻 close to going on your knees. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks at you, and for a moment, it feels like he’s actually going to tell you the truth without holding anything back anymore. “You remind me of someone,” he confesses instead. Honestly, out of everything you expected him to say, this wasn’t it. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad one, you don’t know yet. “Someone who was… important to me,” he continues. “She’s not in my life anymore.”

You don’t say anything, just wait for him to continue before doing anything you might regret— if you decide to do it, that is.

“She was like you… and in the end, she… didn’t stay.” You stay in utter silence, not knowing what to say. Usually, it's be you talking and he wouldn’t say anything… maybe this is how he felt. “It started in spring,” he says after a stopping to swallow the lump in his throat, “and it ended in spring”

He wipes the palm of his hands on his jeans as he tries to maintain his eyes contact with your blurry eyes while you listen to him.

“So spring just…” he trails off slightly, then finishes, “it’s not a good time for me.”

You shake your head as tears starts to finally spill over. “That’s n-ot fair,” you whisper as your voice cracks. “You— y-you can’t p-unish everything because— because of something that already en-ended.”

“I’m not punishing anything, Y/N..  I’m ending it before it turns into something I can’t control.”

You step even closer, almost breathing on him as your voice breaks completely. “T—Then don’t let it— let it t-urn into that,” you plead. “Just stay. Just— sta-y.”

He looks at you, and for a second, it feels like he might… “I can’t,” he breaks your heart. The finality in his voice makes your heart inside you collapse. “I’m sorry,” he feels ashamed as he lowers his eyes on your hands that’s now gripping his wrist.

Your grip tightens around his wrist, your fingers trembling from holding him, you breaking in a way that feels painful to hear even to yourself, “you shouldn’t decide that alone… I’m telling you— you can’t… cut me out because you’re scared of what might happen. That’s not fair, Vernon. That’s not—  that’s not how this works,” your breath hitches as you struggle to keep your voice from cracking. You search his face desperately for even the smallest sign of hesitation.

He swallows as he looks at you, “It’s not just fear… I know where something leads before it gets there. I’ve been there before, and I’m not… doing that again,” he adds like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as he’s trying to convince you.

You shake your head immediately, your grip loosening just enough for your hands to slide slightly down his arm, your voice cracking as you speak again, “but I’m not her! Y-you keep saying I remind you of her, but I’m not her, Vernon! I’m not going to do whatever she did,” your brows pull together as tears continue to fall, your chest tightening with every word.

He lets out a breath, his gaze dropping before lifting again to meet yours, “I know you’re not her,” he admits, and it’s softer before it fades again. “But it doesn’t change the way this feels. It doesn’t change what it does to me.”

“Then let it be different,” you plead. “Let this be different. Not everything has to end the same way just because something else did,” your hands lifting slightly as if you don’t know whether to hold onto him again or let go entirely, your thoughts running faster than you can keep up with.

He shakes his head, and this time there’s no hesitation in it, “No, this city already feels…,” he sighs, “every place, every street… it’s starting to feel the same again… And— you’re her—”

“What are you talking about??” you’re just so confused, you feel like you’re crazy.

“Let me finish— I can’t ask you to leave. This is your life. So I’m the one who has to go,” he finishes.

You stare at him, your face crumbling further as you try to process that, “s-so that’s it?” your lips tremble, “you’re just going to— going to walk away because I remind you of someone who hurt you?” 

He closes his eyes for a brief second, then opens them again, and when he speaks, it’s soft like an apology. But shit, if that doesn’t fix anything, “it’s not just that…” he trails, “but it’s enough,” he adds looking down because he for sure knows it won’t make sense to you no matter how he explains it.

You shake your head again and again, tears falling freely now, your hands trembling as you try to hold onto something that’s already slipping away. “Don’t— don’t do-o this,” you whisper. “Please… pl—please, don’t do th-is.”

He doesn’t move closer or reach for you. He doesn’t change his mind and say he was just joking, that he crossed the line. You’re waiting for him to tell you to slap him for making such an awful joke— but it doesn’t come. “I have to,” he lets out.

And just like that, you realize that no matter what you say, no matter how much you ask, no matter how much you plead, no matter how much you cry, he’s already decided… and you can’t change his mind.

After that, everything collapses gradually. The shop stays open and spring continues, the flowers keep blooming, but without him it all feels wrong in a way you can’t explain to yourself properly. You keep going back to the shop at first… it’s almost automatic like muscle memory pulling you there instead of choice, hoping that maybe he’ll be standing behind the counter or by the flowers like nothing ever changed; but he never is.

Chee is the first to look properly angry when she hears what happened— not at him, but at everything around it: the situation, the timing, and hoe he left without anyone fully understanding why. She vents at first, pacing in the shop one afternoon when you’re there, her voice full with frustration.

“I told him he can’t just run away from everything,” she says more to herself than to you, “that’s just not how life works.”

You sit near the counter, fingers loosely touching the edge, your voice quieter when you reply, “he said he had to...”

Chee stops for a second, looks at you, then sighs like she’s trying to force herself into acceptance, “of course he did.”

—

It takes time, but eventually she softens. It’s not like she agrees with what he did, but because she understands in the only way she can… through her loyalty she has for people she cares about. And when Vernon reaches out again after a long silence that’s too far stretched to count properly, she doesn’t turn him away.

There’s a time when she tells you about it almost a bit reluctantly.

“He contacted me,” she informs one day while rearranging flowers.

Your hands stilling, “and?”

“He’s… fine,” she adds, but the way she says it makes it clear that ‘fine’ doesn’t mean what it used to.

“Okay.”

It doesn’t take long for him to win her over again after her initial disappointment fades. She forgives him in her own way. Quietly without any drama. And eventually, he goes no contact again, but this time with her permission. Again, it’s not not like she stopped caring, but because she understood that holding onto him wasn’t the same as helping him. Vernon never lets Chee down easily, and Chee never manages to stay mad at him for long. It’s complicated like that, always has been.

You hear about him indirectly about how he checks in sometimes, how he disappears again just as quickly. Always moving somewhere else and never really staying in one place and settle.

You, meanwhile, stay in orbit around the life that remains. You spend time with Chee sometimes, and occasionally Soonyoung joins in, bringing the same chaotic warmth he always does like nothing in the world is ever truly serious for long when he’s around. You smile when you’re there, you laugh when you feel like to, then you leave again.

You start to realize that you might be a little pathetic for still waiting in places where he will never return. Almost graduated now, a year nearly passed, and still some part of you looks for him.

Sometimes in the shop, you catch yourself saying things without thinking. I think he’ll like these ones, you once said, reaching for a bundle of flowers he used to set aside for you.

Over time, what you hear about him comes in fragments indirectly. Never directly from him and always from someone who saw him somewhere for a minute.

He’s been drinking more.

Still smoking like before… maybe worse.

He’s just wandering.

He lost weight.

He looks different.

He went down.

It paints a picture you don’t want but can’t avoid forming anyway. Cigarettes first thing in the morning, alcohol when the day gets too much, smoke breaks that aren’t breaks anymore, just constant repetition. Nights that don’t end. A routine that doesn’t heal anything and just fills space so he doesn’t have to sit in silence with himself. You try reaching out once more.

You send messages, but no response. It starts to feel less like silence and more like absence. Like the version of him you knew existed in a space that no longer connects to the world you’re in.

It’s like the moment you had with him was a fever dream. Sometimes it feels like it existed outside of everything else, and once it ended, the rest of the world kept moving without him— and without you in it.

In the end, you’re left with the realization that you couldn’t save him, couldn’t hold him there, couldn’t make him choose to stay.

You stand in the florist shop surrounded by flowers he used to touch so carefully. Your fingers brush lightly against a vase as you look down at the counter, I thought you’d stay, you say under your breath, barely audible, not even sure if you mean him or the feeling itself.

— I loved you.

Which, well, is kind of accurate, because it’s Hansol’s dad’s coat. Chan had fallen in a mud patch last night when the pair stumbled back after a night out drinking with their friends, and Hansol’s parents have always treated Chan like a second son and happily dote on him, so lending him a clean, cosy coat wasn’t even debated.

But the point is, it’s the middle of winter, Chan is fucking freezing, and Hansol has made him join him in the field to meet the new vet, who will apparently be overseeing the ewes through lambing season— not that Chan knows what that means. And Chan has no interest in this, but Hansol is persuasive in the way he stares without blinking until his opponent relents, and it freaks the fuck out of Chan, so he always relents.

“Are you sure I can’t curl up in the middle of them? They look so warm,” Chan bemoans, looking longingly at the huddle of sheep a little bit away from them, practically able to see steam rising from their fluffy bodies in the chilly air.

“Very positive that you cannot curl up amongst pregnant ewes, Chan,” Hansol confirms flatly, eyes on the near distance where a car is driving along the dirt tracks of the Choi farm towards the field they’re standing at the edge of.

“Ewe means lady sheep, right?” Chan checks, and Hansol gives him a flat look in response, before snorting a laugh, then looks away. “What?”

“Would I say they’re pregnant if they were gentlemen sheep?”

“I…I think I’m too hungover.”

“Nah, you’re always a dumbass,” Hansol retorts teasingly, then pushes off of the fence to approach one of the farm dogs who has something in his mouth that Hansol needs to chase him for the next few minutes to get out— turns out, it was a lump of mud; at least, Chan hopes it was mud.

“Hey, you’re new,” the voice behind Chan makes him turn, and instantly, his expression slides into something awed, because standing a little on the other side of the fence is the most beautiful being he’s ever laid eyes on. In response, Chan lets out something that sounds vaguely like something died painfully in his throat.

“Hey, doc!” Hansol calls out, and Chan watches entranced as this ethereal entity before him waves back with a smile that makes Chan suddenly love the farm.

“I think your new farm boy isn’t awake yet,” you muse as you approach to lean on the fence a little to Chan’s left, and he turns towards you like a flower to the sun. Or a suddenly-in-love man towards the woman of his dreams.

“No farm boy, he hates the farm, but he’s my best friend so he doesn’t have a choice,” Hansol informs with a grin.

“I love farm. Love sheep. Lady sheep. Ewes,” Chan babbles, wide eyes glued to you. You give him a look, a little concerned, but mostly amused, then slide your eyes to Hansol, and give the farmer a questioning look.

“Yeah, we don’t know what’s wrong with him either.”

“Sheep,” Chan whispers, and you give him a look, giggle— and he maybe lets out a little almost pained whimper in response—, before you effortlessly clamber over the fence to join Hansol in approaching the sheep.

Chan, of course, waddles around in a circle as you pass him so that he can keep his attention on you. He has no idea what you’re doing as you kneel beside the first pregnant lady sheep— ewe— with your bag of equipment to do…stuff, but he thinks it’s probably the most important and skilful thing ever, and nobody can ever do it better than you.

Suddenly, Chan doesn’t feel the cold, not when your smile and soft tone as you speak to the sheep warms him up from his very soul. Chan’s pretty convinced he could be standing there butt naked and feel warm under your smile. Then, he thinks that you’d probably not be smiling if a stranger was standing in front of you naked in a field of sheep in the middle of winter. He also thinks he wouldn’t be smiling as he imagines the sheep trying to nibble on something else instead of the coat protecting him from the cold, and he shudders at the thought, winces, and subconsciously puts his hands over his crotch.

“Dude, you better not be getting hard because a pretty lady smiled at you,” Hansol’s voice suddenly warns in a hiss in Chan’s ear, making him jump and look at his best friend in shock, having not noticed him approach.

“Do sheep bite genitals?” Chan whispers, horrified at the thought. Hansol gives him an incredulous look, before walking confidently back over to you in a way that Chan wishes he could, but he knows the damn coat makes him waddle like a particularly plump penguin. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a particularly plump penguin, he doesn’t want you to think of him as a penguin at all, plump or buff. He wants you to think of him as a handsome, suave young man who you would happily take home to introduce to your parents as your handsome, suave husband. Okay, boyfriend first, husband later.

Far too soon— at least in Chan’s mind—, you get up, shoulder your bag, and walk side by side with Hansol towards the gate a little further down the fence. Before he knows it, you’re getting into your Jeep— at least, Chan assumes it’s a Jeep, he doesn’t know anything about cars, nor is he paying enough attention to anything but you to notice the brand name—, sharing another laugh and quick verbal exchange with Hansol, giving Chan a polite wave, and then driving off. Chan lifts his arm so fast that he smacks himself in the face, but you’re already gone because he was too stunned by your sudden attention on him to even register it until it was over. He’s kind of glad of that because it means you didn’t see his embarrassing action.

Unfortunately, Hansol saw, and he’s leaning over with his hands on his knees as he wheezes with laughter. “Dude!” he cackles. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?” he asks, barely able to straighten up to look at his best friend as he continue to laugh so hard Chan thinks he might start choking any second.

“Nothing. I’m normal. Totally normal about everything and everyone I’ve seen today,” Chan replies before abruptly crossing the grass between them to grab Hansol’s face and lock his wide, unsettling gaze on the suddenly no longer laughing man. “How do I become a vet assistant? Specifically hers?”

Hansol pulls a face, then laughs again and nudges Chan away. “You’re hopeless, man.”

“I’d be a good vet’s assistant to her! I’d do anything she asks!”

“Pretty sure that’s called being a simp.”

“Well…if it works.”

“I can’t believe you’re obsessed with someone you didn’t say a coherent sentence to,” Hansol deadpans as he heads out of the field, and Chan scrambles to follow— making sure to shut the gate securely behind them and the dogs, he’s not entirely useless with farm stuff, you know.

“Shit, you’re right,” Chan mutters. Hansol looks at him as if he expects Chan to chill out and be normal about you, at least he does until the shorter man opens his mouth again. “Do you think if I hide for a couple months and you pretend I don’t exist and she imagined me today, that she’ll forget about me and I can come back and start fresh?”

“Dude, no!” He even shoves his friend into a bush for added effect; it works, Chan gets the point.

“Okay, no gaslighting, you’re right,” Chan concedes as he pulls himself out of the bush as if nothing happened. “I could never keep away from my future wife from that long anyway, and I definitely don’t want her to forget about me.”

“You don’t even know her name.”

That gives Chan pause, quite literally. He stops on the grass and Hansol continues on obliviously towards the house. Or more likely, Hansol knows that his best friend is no longer actively following him and is enjoying the moment of calm while he has it.

It’s a few minutes before Chan has caught up with Hansol where he’s waiting on the back porch, dogs all shuffling around his feet and the door as they wait to be let back inside. But Hansol knows his mother hates the winter air and feels it so much easier than most people, so he doesn’t want the door to open more than necessary so that there’s less cold being let in to attack his mother.

“What’s her name?” Chan asks as soon as he’s clambered up the few wooden steps. Hansol just rolls his eyes, and now finally opens the door to let the dogs dart in first, then follows with Chan at the back. Automatically, once the door is shut, Chan nudges the draft excluder back into place along the bottom of it, also aware of Hansol’s mother’s weakness for the chill, and not wanting to make his pseudo-mother face it without reason.  

The pair are removing their shoes when the woman herself shuffles into the entrance hall. “How’re the ewes?” she checks. Hansol just gives a thumbs up, but that’s all she needs anyway. “Oh, Channie, what happened to you?” She frowns as she frets over the leaves and tiny twigs in his hair and dotted over the long coat.

“Sol pushed me into a bush,” Chan answers, then grins smugly when Hansol’s mother turns to scold her son, who glares harmlessly at his best friend before toddling off to the kitchen, drawn in by the scent of fresh, spicy food sure to warm him up. “Hey, you know the new vet?” Chan checks as the woman helps him out of the coat, picking off the bush debris as she goes.

“Mm, she’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“The loveliest,” Chan enthuses, head bobbing with his thorough agreement, and the woman smiles at him in an amused, knowing way that Chan doesn’t even notice. “I didn’t catch her name.”

“Oh, no?” She grins, hanging up the coat before turning and following her son’s path into the kitchen. Chan follows her little a lost little duckling. “You didn’t catch the good doctor’s name, love?”

“No,” Chan complains, dropping into his usual space at the breakfast table with a pout. “Will you tell it to me? Sol’s being a butthead.”

“You’re 25 years old and you just said butthead,” Hansol’s father comments from his own place. “Call him an asshole, Chan, go on.” Which earns the man a light slap to the back of his head from his wife, but he’s grinning, and Hansol is grinning, and Chan can’t help but join in.

“Don’t encourage bad habits, mister!” the woman exclaims.

“Ah, but you used to love my bad habits, my beautiful wife,” he coos, hooking one arm around her waist as she passes, to pull her in while giving her a sleazy look.

“Seriously, dad?” Hansol complains. “I’m trying to eat, don’t bring up your youth together, it’s gross.”

“Excuse you! We were hot shit in our youth, even hotter together!”

“Disgusting,” Hansol comments, not even pretending that he’s not grinning amusedly, before he puts a spoonful of warming, spicy soup into his mouth, makes a pleased sound, then tuckers in, closing out the rest of the world around him.

Having known Hansol for his entire life, the three know he will be a useless conversationalist until he’s finished his bowlful— and probably a second, maybe even third— and naturally turn away from him to continue talking without him.

“I’ve seen photos of you both when you were young,” Chan comments, nodding along. “I think you were both hot shit for sure.”

“Thank you, Chan,” Hansol’s father replies, and reaches over to approvingly pat Chan’s arm. “Knew we kept you around for a reason.”

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” Chan grins, then abruptly turns serious. “But seeing as you both love me so much and consider me your baby boy—”

“We do?”

“Yes, dad,” Chan confirms, and the couple just smile, amused and fond of their pseudo-son and his weird, shameless personality.

“Okay, son, what of it?”

“You’ll tell me the name of the new vet, right?”

The couple share a look before Hansol’s dad nods and tells Chan your full name. Immediately, Chan lets out a dreamy sigh and props his head on his palm, elbow already braced on the table. He thinks it’s the most perfect name to have ever existed, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life saying it.

It’s a week before Chan sees you again, purely because every time he’s tried to oh so casually enter the vets and cross paths with you, he quickly realises that you’re out at another farm being competent and beautiful where he can’t admire you; a great shame, really.

Still, he’s persistent and has far too much time on his hands outside of his own working hours, so he keeps trying until he peers in through the glass wall at the front of the building, and spots you standing on the other side of the reception desk, looking at a file.

Without hesitation, Chan quickly scuttles to the door and enters the building, doing his best to be cool and confident. And it works, he genuinely looks very suave and put together, at least until you lift your head upon hearing someone approach, and he almost trips on his own foot the moment your eyes meet his.

He’s too busy flailing his arms out to catch himself on the desk and straighten up to notice the way you smile in amusement and something that looks an awful lot like you think he’s cute in his foolishness.

“Good evening, how can I help you?” you greet, leaning onto the high desk on your elbows only a few feet from Chan.

He squeaks when he realises how close you are, and jumps back, hands rapidly straightening out his coat— his own this time, and actually suited to his body, not drowning him. “Hi–hi.”

“Hi.” You grin.

“I uhm, I’m Chan!”

“Mm, I know; we met at the Choi farm last week. Hansol introduced us, but you were mumbling about lady sheep.”

“Ewes! Lady sheep are called ewes! I know animal stuff!” he insists, sounding like a child trying to convince an adult that they have knowledge they don’t really have.

“They are, well done, Chan,” you approve, and Chan positively beams, straightening up proudly. “Did you come in to introduce yourself?”

“No, no, I would like to volunteer.”

“Here?” you check, leaning up to stand straight, his eyes following you as if he can’t bear to miss a single moment. It’s all very obvious, and honestly, you think it’s adorable.

“Yes, here. With you.”

“With me? I specialise in farm animals, so I’m not here a lot,” you inform.

“I love farms.”

“Right.” You snigger and move over to the filing cabinet to grab a form, then return to hand it to him. “Here, fill this out.”

Chan nods and moves forward to take a pen from the pot a little to his left, and diligently fill out the volunteer registration form, while you return to looking at your files. Or, at least, you try to look at your files, but you’re honestly very intrigued by the man; and yes, he’s very attractive and you’re not blind to that, or his clear interest in you.

Admittedly, you wouldn’t be against going on a date with Chan to get to know him, there’s something so endearing about him— and once again, he’s very visibly pleasing, so that’s always a happy bonus. However, he flusters so easily that you think it’d be so entertaining to watch him flounder around you for a while until he gains the courage to ask you on a date himself.

Plus, you could do with a helper, and you know he’s only pretending to care about animals to be near you, so you think it’s only fair you take advantage of that and put him to good use while you can.

“There, all done,” he announces a few minutes later, lifting his head and shyly offering you the completed form, which you immediately look over just to make sure that he’s suitable for the role, at least on paper. He doesn’t seem to have any medical issues that could cause a problem, and he’s stated he has a lot of hours to put towards volunteering, so he definitely seems to be a good fit.

“What are you willing to do exactly? There are a lot of misconceptions that people come in with when they want to volunteer; they think they’ll essentially get to just play with cute puppies and kittens that come in for treatment, and they fail to consider all the shit they’ll have to handle. Often, literal shit. Especially if you’re with me and the farm animals; I don’t think I need to tell you that you will step in shit on a farm, even if you try to avoid it.”

“I know. I grew up with Hansol; his parents are my second parents, so I was sort of raised on the farm too,” he assures, nodding. Which is the truth, technically. Chan did spend a lot of time at the Choi farm growing up, and still does, but mostly in the house or orchard around back, not with the animals so much. And he certainly doesn’t know how to look after them in any way, but he doesn’t think you’d be reckless enough to leave him to look after animals, so he’s not worried about that.

“Have you tended to the animals there?”

“No,” he admits a little sheepishly. “But I’m willing to learn and do whatever you want me to.”

“Whatever I want you too, huh?” you repeat, lips turning up a little.

Chan blinks at you, lips parted slightly due to the sudden, seductive expression that makes him feel a little like he’s been dipped in a pool of warm, melted wax. Fuck, he hopes you’re into wax play because he suddenly is really into it, even if he’s never participated or been interested before. He thinks he’d probably try everything at least once if you asked.

It’s only a second that the smirk lives on your lips before it melts away as if it was never there, and Chan briefly wonders if he imagined it and the insinuation, before he gathers his brain back up and nods.

“Good to know. When can you start?”

“Now. Right now. I have nothing to do.”

“Nobody waiting for you at home?” you wonder, moving to grab your coat from where you earlier put it on the back of a chair, knowing you’d need it again soon.

“I’m single!” he blurts. “Very, very single.” You just giggle amusedly and tuck the files and his form into the cabinet before locking it up, grabbing your bag, and circling the desk to hold it out to him. Chan takes it without question, big, round eyes locked on you from only a few feet away.

“Come on, I’ve got a patient to visit,” you inform and head out of the building.

Chan lets out an excited gasp as he realises that you’ve agreed to spend time with him— he pointedly doesn’t focus on the fact that it’s for work, not personal reasons— and scrambles after you with a grin, determined to be the best assistant ever so that you’ll fall hopelessly in love with him and let him remain by your side until the world stops spinning.

As it turns out, Chan is a very competent helper, as long as you don’t watch him for too long because then he gets flustered and forgets how to function like a normal human being. Other than his mishaps, he’s actually pretty proud of himself for doing such a good job. Sometimes, he’s even so focused on the work that he forgets that he stepped into the vets that day with the sole purpose of being near you.

Though, even with his original plan often being forgotten, it still works in his favour, and the two of you spend so much time together that friendship soon blooms.

When Chan’s not flustering or just staring at you dumbly as if he can’t believe you’re real, he’s actually very naturally charming and friendly, and very skilled at making you laugh. The first time he made you properly laugh, he mentally declared your laughter to be one of the great wonders of the world, and that he’ll do what he can to earn it at every chance. Which is something he achieves almost effortlessly. He thinks that when the two of you aren’t focused on work, you’re both laughing away together and chatting happily as if you’ve known one another for years, not just a month.

It gets to the point that, although he is still utterly enamoured with you and would love to hold your hand and kiss your pretty face, he is more than happy to just spend time with you, making you laugh, and seeing you smile as you tend to patients with nothing but love and care in your touch and eyes.

Even when the two of you start to hang out outside of working hours, it’s nothing but platonic, nothing he wouldn’t do with Hansol because Chan truly doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or risk losing your friendship. He’d rather be at your side like this than not at all, and he has no intention of even trying to change anything, despite what his friends say.

“So, how’s the woman of your dreams doing?” Seungkwan asks, fiddling with Hansol’s hair where it pokes out from his beanie, and Hansol just lets him, long ago used to Seungkwan’s fussing.

“Dreamy,” Chan replies, sighing happily as he slumps forward over the table at their usual bar, leaning his chin on one palm as his other hand mindlessly traces patterns into the condensation on his glass of coke. Usually, he’d be drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage, but he knows that you’ve gone out with some friends tonight, and he told you that you can call him if you need a ride, no matter how late, so he’s refraining from drinking tonight all for you.

“Right,” Seungkwan replies with a snigger, then turns, done fussing with Hansol, yet doesn’t move away and Chan isn’t so caught up in his own pining to not notice that the pair are even closer than normal. Which says something, because Chan thinks the two are almost attached at the hip when the three of them hang out.

“What’s going on?” Chan asks as he straightens up, giving the pair a suspicious look. Hansol, for his part, doesn’t really react, just continues looking over at Chan as he sips at his beer.

Seungkwan, however, has never had a good poker face, and gives Chan a too innocent smile as his ears redden. “I don’t know what you mean, Channie.”

“You two–” Chan starts to point out their position— and the fact he’s pretty damn sure Hansol’s hand is on Seungkwan’s thigh under the table— but he hears a familiar, heart fluttering, angelic sound, and he sits upright, head swivelling to search the bar for the one person he would happily ditch his best friends for.

“Oh, you’ve turned into a meerkat,” Seungkwan muses, relaxing in his place and giving Hansol a relieved look while Chan is distracted. Hansol just smiles at him, then they both focus on their best friend, who is practically climbing up onto his chair on his knees to get a higher vantage point. “Okay, too far,” Seungkwan declares when Chan’s leg lifts as if he’s going to plant a knee on the table to climb up. Or piss like a dog with his leg cocked, though Seungkwan is pretty sure that Chan needs to be much drunker to try that…again. That was a dark day for Chan’s new trainers.

“Noo, let me find her,” Chan whines, batting at Seungkwan’s hands, head still trying to peer around the fairly busy room.

“How about you go get us a fresh round, and you can scope the place like that?” Hansol suggests after draining the last dregs of his beer, before pushing the empty glass across the table.

“Good idea!” Chan quickly snatches the empty glass and gets up, whining at Seungkwan wordlessly as the man tries to down the last of his own beer without spilling it. “Finally!” Chan exclaims exasperatedly as he takes the freshly empty glass and darts off, while Seungkwan’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, and Hansol rubs his back, soothing and amused at the same time.

As Chan crosses the room to get to the bar on the opposite side as the tables, skirting around the dance floor as he goes, he makes sure to keep his eyes open for you— and only walks into three people, which he thinks is a very low number for how busy it is mixed with not paying attention. Yet, no matter how hard he looks, he can’t find you, or hear your familiar laugh again, so he slumps against the bar and waits to be served.

He’s only there a minute and the bartender is working on refilling the glasses when someone approaches and leans on their elbows on the bar to his right. Naturally, Chan looks over and immediately lights up upon spotting you already grinning at him.

“I knew I heard your laugh!” he declares, and although it would probably be creepy from anyone else, you just find it cute from Chan and let out one of those laughs he loves so much. “Yeah, like that.” He sighs dreamily and leans one elbow on the bar so that he can fully face you.

“What happened to keeping yourself available for me tonight?” you muse.

“I’m always available for you,” he says, looking so serious and almost offended that you’d suggest otherwise. The audacity to think that he wouldn’t do literally anything to spend more time with you. It’s crazy talk.

“Oh yeah?” you question, and he nods, then looks to his left at the bar top when you motion to it. He spots the beers and understands.

“Those aren’t mine. They’re for my friends. You remember Hansol, right?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “We were at his farm yesterday.”

“Well, yeah, him and our other best friend, Seungkwan. I think they’re dating or something now,” he announces, leaning in closer conspiratorially. You mirror his action with a grin, more than happy to go along with it. “They’ve always sat close, but tonight, they’re even closer, and I’m pretty sure Sol’s touching up Kwan under the table.”

“That doesn’t sound very public friendly,” you muse.

“Oh! Not in that way; I just meant has his hand on Kwan’s thigh. But now you’ve said that… I really hope it’s not in that way.” Chan isn’t sure what exactly his expression does, but it makes you laugh, so he doesn’t care, and just grins at you. “So, where are your friends?” he wonders, peering around curiously yet finds nobody looking in your direction as if they’re waiting for you to return.

“They were touching each other up under the table, so I ditched them,” you joke, and Chan laughs.

“Well, you can join us, if you want?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Will there be under the table touching?” You smirk, and Chan’s mind blanks as he stares at you dumbly, making you giggle. “Sure, I’d love to join you, if your friends won’t mind, that is.”

“They won’t. Kwan wants to meet you, and Sol already likes you.”

“Ah, that’s cool, I like him.”

Chan suddenly pouts at you, but you don’t notice, you’re too busy leaning forward onto the bar to flag down the bartender and order yourself a drink. Even when he hands his card to the bartender— without looking— Chan is still pouting at you. You look at him as you spot his bank card appear, and raise a questioning eyebrow at him, both for the paying for your drink, and the expression.

“What?” you ask, deciding to just accept the drink and face the pouting instead. You can always buy him a drink later anyway.

“You like me better, right?” he questions without losing his pout. You huff a soft laugh. “No?”

“Yes, idiot,” you assure, and Chan breams, despite you just calling him an idiot. “And if you must know, I think you’re very likely my favourite person in his town,” you declare, tone a little quieter, lower, as if it’s just the two of you, before you pick up your drink and turn away. Though Chan doesn’t follow, so you stop after a few steps and look back at his stunned, gawping figure. “Well, come on then, introduce me to the man Hansol’s touching up under the table.”

“Right!” Chan darts forward, intending to take you to the table as requested, yet you put a gentle hand on his chest to stop him, giggling amusedly. “Huh?”

“Didn’t you forget something?” you remind him and motion behind him at the bar, so Chan looks over and notices the two glasses of beer sitting there with his bank card left on the surface beside them.

“Oh, shit.” He rushes over to pocket his card, then grabs the drinks and turns to face you with an embarrassed little grin. “This way.”

At the table, Seungkwan lights up when Chan introduces you and says you’re joining them, and you grin back before joining them and easily get into conversation with Seungkwan as if you already know each other. As if you’ve always been around. As if you’re supposed to be here with them, right by Chan’s side.

Since the day in the bar where you spent hours with Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan, Seungkwan has bugged Chan to ask you out at every available opportunity.

Because he’s a meddling little shit, Seungkwan has arranged many hang outs for the four of you. Which, to Chan, are increasingly feeling like double dates, despite the fact that Hansol and Seungkwan are still evasive about whatever is going on between them, and you never bat an eyelid about the growing romantic vibes to the hang outs.

You don’t even question it or back off when you arrive to Seungkwan’s apartment set up with slow, romantic music and candles. Or when Seungkwan insists you and Chan slow dance together after dinner. Okay, maybe that’s Chan’s fault. After he offhandedly mentions how he hasn’t danced with someone in a while, you say the same, and then Seungkwan goads the two of you on until you relent, pull Chan to his feet, and put his hand on your waist— Chan’s pretty sure he astrally projects for a second when that happens— in the middle of Seungkwan’s kitchen while the man himself watches on with a shit-eating grin.

Still, Chan doesn’t give in and is happy to continue as you are. Admittedly, he could be even happier if he got the chance to romance you, but he’s more than content being such good friends with you.

He really doesn’t expect you to feel otherwise, though.

It comes to a head completely out of the blue one morning, when Chan is using his day off to help you organise your so-rarely-used office at the vets. The fact it’s so rarely used is why it’s such a mess. Well, mess in the way there’s no obvious system and things are just placed everywhere, yet you always manage to find what you need quickly enough that you hadn’t wanted to block off any of your appointment times to tackle the task earlier. But it’s spring, and the local ewes have all started to pop out lambs left, right, and centre, so you haven’t been accepting appointments other than emergencies, just in case you get the call about a sheep in labour.

Chan isn’t aware of it, he’s too busy frowning in concentration down at the pile of books on the floor in front of him where he’s sitting as he tries to decide which ones you should display on your shelves and which should go in the closed cupboard, but you’ve been staring at him contemplatively for a good few minutes already.

When you speak, Chan jolts in surprise, first at the sudden noise, but then at the words that come out of your mouth. “Okay, are you going to ask me on a date, or am I going to have to do it?” You wait for a response for only a few seconds before taking his dumb expression and wide eyes as answer. “Alright, tonight at 6:30, pick me up and we’ll go to that Italian place Seungkwan keeps telling us to try. Okay?” It takes a few moments, but Chan manages to shut his mouth and nod in confirmation, slowly at first still in disbelief, but then the enthusiasm catches up and his head bobbles cutely, making you smile. “Good. Dress pretty for me, yeah?”

“Y–yeah,” he almost wheezes out, voice so pinched and quiet. But you just giggle and return to your work, so Chan takes a few moments to admire your smile and wait for his thundering heart to calm before he turns back to those books and then sighs forlornly. He wishes it was 6:30 already. Only eight hours left to go. Fuck.

Chan would like to say that he’s been cool and calm for the past hours. He’d like to say that he easily picked his outfit for the date with minimal deliberation, that he didn’t have three almost breakdowns, and that Seungkwan didn’t almost shake Chan’s brain out of his ears when he did nothing but stand in his shower for half an hour without even turning the water on— yes, Seungkwan did barge in on him, and no, Seungkwan doesn’t understand what privacy is.

Truthfully, Chan thinks he’s never been so nervous for anything in his life. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked at himself in the mirror and picked out every little thing someone could find as a fault, as a reason to leave him in the middle of a restaurant with only breadsticks and ice water to soothe his broken heart.

Realistically, Chan knows you’d never be so cruel, but he’s not Realistic Chan anymore, he’s Scared-That-The-Woman-Of-His-Dreams-Will-Realise-He’s-Not-Good-Enough-For-Her Chan. And Chan hates being Scared-That-The-Woman-Of-His-Dreams-Will-Realise-He’s-Not-Good-Enough-For-Her Chan, it’s too much of a mouthful.

So, Chan does what Chan does best, and deludes himself into thinking he’s a normal, functioning young man entirely capable of going on this date and not acting like a love-sick freak.

Well, he deludes himself until the moment you step out of your house and steal his breath away. You’re wearing a pretty dress that stops just above your knees— as if that’s not reason enough for Chan to lose his mind like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time—, with a neckline that hints at cleavage without dipping low enough that Chan will be completely distracted all night having a staring contest with your boobs. You’ve even done your hair and put on some makeup that makes you look like a literal goddess. Chan isn’t going to be normal about this at all.

“Oh my god, you’re an angel,” he blurts as he scrambles forward to meet you a few metres from his car. His freshly washed and waxed car that he had previously been leaning against like the stud of a male lead in a cheesy rom com while feeling very much like one, and like he might have the upper hand and make you swoon for once. He was evidently, very fucking wrong about that.

“Oh,” you respond, surprised by how intense and genuine his reaction is. You had expected him to react pretty strongly, but this is so honest that it makes your heart flutter— more than he already makes it anyway, you just haven’t let him know that. You look down at your feet as you giggle shyly, and Chan positively melts. “Thank you. You look very handsome,” you compliment as you look at the man donned in a black shirt with maybe one button undone too low on his chest to not be on purpose— though you really aren’t opposed to the teasing glimpse of strong chest—, neat, dark trousers, and a nice jacket perfect for the weather, which he only brings out for special occasions. A date with you is the most special occasion as far as Chan is concerned. Honestly, you’d have to agree.

“Oh, really?” Chan asks, genuinely surprised, having not expected the compliment, and quickly looks at himself. “Seungkwan picked it; I…was too nervous to be useful.”

“Chan,” you start to say, and move forward to gently tilt his head back up so that he’ll see the truth in your eyes. “I always think you’re handsome.”

“Oh,” he exhales, eyes big and round, and cheeks warming softly.

“Come on, let’s go, I’m starving,” you encourage as you let go of him and step around his almost frozen figure to approach his car.

Before you can even reach out for the passenger door, Chan is suddenly there, scrambling to open it for you, then offer his hand to help you into your seat like a true gentleman. The best part is that you know he isn’t putting it on to impress you, Chan is just like that. It makes your heart flutter, and you giggle softly as you swing your legs into the footwell once seated to allow him to shut the door.

Chan all but falls into his seat moments later in his rush to join you. He gives you an adorably embarrassed smile as you laugh, endeared by his clumsy actions, and then he settles himself and pulls his door shut. “Okay, let’s go!” he cheers once he’s plugged his seatbelt in— and double checked yours is also securely in place—, then starts the drive to the restaurant.

Despite how nervous he was— and remains—, Chan has to admit that the date goes well. Like, really well.

Although it could be awkward, especially with his stammering, and gawping, and blurting out compliments at the most random times, it isn’t. It takes him a little while, but he realises that your smile doesn’t change even when he does those embarrassing things, not in a bad way at least. Every time he does something stupid or obviously smitten, your smile softens and your gaze on him turns so gentle that Chan can’t mistake it for anything but the truth; you’re fond of him, and find him endearing, not a giant fool. Okay, maybe you do also think that, but Chan suddenly realises that it’s pretty damn likely that you like that about him.

After a truly delicious dinner that you insist on paying for as the one who asked Chan on the date— which has Chan trying to not to giggle dopily into his hands like a swooning maiden at the reminder, and your no-nonsense, doting words and actions—, the two of you head outside to his car, only to divert before even reaching it as you motion to the nearby park. Chan’s more than happy to toddle after you, and all but squeaks when you gently grab his hand at the road to tug him across quickly so that you don’t have to wait until after the incoming stream of cars to cross.

Unfortunately, you let go of him once you’re both safely across the road with both feet on the path. Chan thinks he does a very convincing job of pretending to not pout about no longer having your hand in his. He doesn’t. It’s incredibly obvious, and you’re further endeared, though decide to wait and let him reach out to reconnect your hands.

But as it so happens, Chan is a coward and doesn’t make any sort of move to hold your hand, leaving it up to you. After almost twenty minutes of waiting as the two of you leisurely stroll through the mostly empty park, talking and giggling away like you’ve been doing all evening, you realise that you’ll be waiting for the rest of your life for Chan to make a move, so you reach out and take his hand into yours.

“Oh,” Chan says, dumbly looking down at your hands, making you grin to yourself, which only grows when you adjust your hold to slip your fingers between his own to secure the affection and Chan inhales so suddenly that he almost chokes on air. “Hands,” he wheezes out.

“Mm, do you mind?”

“No! Always hands!” he insists, looking up at you with wide, imploring eyes, and emphatically nods.

“Okay, always hands,” you agree with a giggle and tug him that bit closer so that you can all but hug his arm to you, right hand still connected with his, and your left hand holding his upper arm. Of course, you take a chance to cop a feel of his strong bicep, and, of course, Chan doesn’t miss the chance to flex the muscle, making you giggle. He smiles, pleased of himself— and proud of his body for gaining your interest—, and finally curls his fingers to hold your hand in return as the two of you let the conversation naturally ebb out for a calm, content quiet to replace it.

Although it’s only spring and the moon is high in the sky, it’s not as cold as it could be outside, so when you spot a bench just a little off the path, you lead Chan over to it so that you can sit by his side and lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, and happy to spend the rest of the night by his side like this if he’ll let you. You’re pretty confident he has no arguments about it. Especially as he holds your hand that bit tighter as he rests it on his thigh, thumb rubbing over your skin absently, and tilts his head against yours with a content sigh.

“Thank you,” Chan’s gentle tone breaks the quiet a little while after sitting down, making you hum questioningly in response. “I know I act like an idiot around you, but it’s just because I like you so much that I just…get stupid. Well, stupider than normal, if you ask everyone else.”

“It’s cute.”

“I’m glad you think so. And that you asked me out. I didn’t think you were interested in me, would ever be interested in me; you’re just so…” he lets out a dreamy sigh that makes you turn your face to hide your dopey grin in his shoulder.

When you turn your head back around after a few seconds to gather yourself and stop smiling so stupidly cheesy, Chan is quiet again, and happily softly smiling ahead at nothing in particular, just letting his feelings show unabashedly on his features. You can’t help but straighten up so that you can lean in and kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for liking me so much,” you say, gently grateful. “I’m lucky to have your interest, and I don’t plan to let you move on to anyone else.”

“I won’t,” he promises, so seriously as he nods to back up his words, making you smile a little wider, so endeared. “You’re everything I never knew I wanted, and I know I’ll never find anyone better than you.”

“Good.” Your grin is cheeky, and Chan can’t help but chuckle softly, fond.

For a few long moments, the two of you do nothing but hold adoring eye contact, little smiles on your face, and neither shying away from this, from what this could turn into if you give it the chance. Chan wants to, with everything in him; he’s had a taste of what it’s like to be blessed with your entire romantic attention, and he wants to keep that privilege for the rest of his life. He’d also really like to get a taste of you, and his eyes drop down to your lips as that thought settles in his mind.

A soft, surprised inhale slips from your lips when you notice that Chan is leaning in. The man who didn’t have the balls to even hold your hand despite very obviously wanting to, is tilting towards you, aiming to kiss you. You want him to; fuck do you want him to. You’re tempted to lean in just so it’ll happen quicker, but you also want Chan to make a real move entirely on his own so that it’s not always you doing it, and he realises that he can do it without you guiding him.

And then, just as he’s mere inches away, your phone starts to ring, and you both freeze. If it was your personal phone, you wouldn’t even hear it right now, you put it on do not disturb before leaving your house for the date. But you can hear it and that can only mean one thing; it’s your work phone, and it’s important.

“Shit,” you whisper before turning to your bag to find out your work phone while Chan leans back into his own space, a little upset about being interrupted, but mostly understanding and also a little worried it’s a serious animal emergency. “It’s Hansol,” you inform after looking at the caller ID, then swipe to answer while lifting the device to your ear. “Hey, what’s going on?” you ask, already getting up, knowing that regardless of the reason Hansol is calling, you need to get to his family farm sooner rather than later; he’s far too experienced and level-headed to call you for anything minor.

“Sheila’s gone into labour,” he announces.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon, you know what to do until then.”

“Got it, see you soon, doc.”

You place your phone back away and turn, expecting Chan to still be sitting on the bench, but he’s already standing close by with his car keys in his hand.

“Let’s go,” he says, taking your hand into his free one to quickly lead you back through the park, both of you rushing to get to his car sooner.

Without you saying a word, Chan drives straight to the vets, and though you don’t tell him to, he follows you inside to help you grab everything you need— the man now well versed in what exactly you need to help bring a lamb or two into the world—, then leads you back to his car.

“You missed the turning,” you comment a few minutes later, pointing dumbly to the road that leads towards your house.

“No I didn’t.” He briefly gives you a look as if you’re stupid, before focusing on the road out of town. “Sol’s place is this way.”

“Oh…I thought you were taking me home and then going home yourself,” you admit.

“I’m your assistant, aren’t I?” He grins cheekily. You let out a soft little laugh, so relieved and beyond glad to have this lovely man by your side and reach out to hold his hand into your own. He smiles a little brighter without looking away from the road.

After hours of waiting, when the sun has chased the moon away and started to rise up and smile down on the two new lives blessing the Choi farm, your job is done.

“I’ll never get over it,” Chan comments as the two of you head back towards his car, both of your outfits completely ruined from the birthing fluids, dust, and hay of the barn, and your hair in a messy, barely still together bun Chan had tied it into hours ago while you pulled on your long gloves.

“Hm?” you wonder, glancing at him quickly, then looking at his car as he unlocks it, allowing you to open the boot so that he can put your bags inside— which he insisted on carrying with the excuse that you carried the weight of bringing two new lambs into the world, so it’s his turn to carry; luckily, he’s cute enough to get away with such bullshit.

“You just helped that mama bring her babies into this world, and you let me assist you. No matter how many times I help you do this, I’ll never get over how incredible it is.”

“It’s a good feeling, huh?” you muse.

“Beyond good. I might just quit my job to do this full time,” he declares, making you laugh. “What? I’m serious!”

“Channie, lambing season is spring, you’d be out of a job most of the year if you quit just for this,” you reason.

“I meant work with you in general, really. And there are other animals to help through labour, too! I wanna help bring a baby cow into the world.”

“Alright, next time I get that call, I’ll let you know.” Chan beams at you, looking so genuinely happy at the offer that you can’t help but be further endeared by the man.

“I should probably call off work today,” he muses after checking the time on his watch— that has been tucked safely in his jacket pocket out of the way for the past few hours to not risk ruining it, and the jacket hung up on a post in the barn far from the splash zone at your insistence; he had practically sprinted to do as you told him to when you said you really liked how it looked on him and hope to see him wear it again. “I’m due at work in like two hours.”

“Mm, yeah, call off,” you agree a little distractedly as you watch him meander around the car after shutting the boot, his eyes on his phone as he types a message to his boss one handed, and the other blindly reaching for the passenger side door long before he’s close enough to grasp the handle.

“You’ll at least take the morning off, right?” he checks as he slides his phone into his pocket and looks at you.

“Yeah, I won’t go in until the afternoon. Unless there’s an emergency, of course,” you answer, soothing him of his worries.

“And you’ll call me if you need me, right? For anything.”

“Anything?” you tease, and he nods so seriously that you can’t help but chuckle as the euphemism goes right over his adorable head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” He motions to the seat, then offers his hand to you like he’s been doing all night to help you in and out of the car— like he’s always wanted to but felt it would be overstepping as a friend to do so, but he’s your…date-man now; he has no idea what he is to you at this point, but whatever it is, he wears the label with pride.

You take his hand and start to move towards the seat, only to back up and turn to face him so suddenly that he jerks back in shock, only to lean back in, eyes round in curious wonder. “So, I know this isn’t the most attractive look or anything.” You motion to yourself vaguely; Chan’s gaze follows to take you in head to toe, and when his gaze returns to you, he’s got a little smile on his face that makes you blush softly. “But I don’t want to wait until an undetermined later point.” Unsurprisingly, Chan’s expression turns puzzled. “I would very much like it if you did the thing you were going to do before Hansol called.”

Somehow, Chan just look even more confused, features scrunching cutely, and head tilting to the side— maybe it’s the animal loving vet you in you that absolutely loves it when he gains this dumb, puppy-dog look. After rolling your eyes at his reaction, figuring you’ll have to spell it out and you’d rather just get to it, you lean in to press a kiss to Chan’s lips. It’s only a quick thing, nothing but a sweet barely-longer-than-a-peck kiss, before you pull back. Chan’s making some strange, strangled, shocked noise as he stares at you with wide eyes, making you snicker out a laugh.

To your genuine surprise, Chan suddenly snaps out of his daze and lifts both hands to cup your face, secure yet still gentle, so that he can connect his lips with yours in a kiss so perfect that you never want it to end. You all but melt against him, hands lifting to hold onto his wrists so that he’ll not let you go before you’re ready; he just kisses you more thoroughly. For someone that’s been so awkward and cowardly about making a move until now, the man can kiss. Holy fuck can the man kiss.

Only when both of your chests are heaving to try and suck in some oxygen do you naturally pull apart to dopily stare at one another under the rising sun with lamb birth dried on your nicest clothes. It’s probably pretty gross for a first kiss— ignoring your peck—, but you still think it’s perfect, and you’d never change it for the world.

“For the record,” Chan starts after a minute; once you’re both breathing almost normally again and his thumbs are consistently brushing soothing arcs over your cheekbones as his palms refuse to leave your skin. Not that you’ve tried to make him stop and would happily let him touch you so tenderly until the sun sets again. “You’re always attractive to me.”

You smile and tilt your chin up to press a short kiss to his lips. “You say that now but wait until you see me first thing in the morning, hungover, with only two hours sleep.”

Chan grins and cutely taps his nose against yours. “Just sounds to me like you’re already planning to share the bed with me,” he points out cheekily, making you giggle. “I already look forward to it.”

“Yeah,” you agree softly. “Me too.”

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It’s a little embarrassing and ‘pathetic’ to admit, so you don’t. You just keep talking big like you wouldn’t melt the second someone treats you like a princess. And you used to think about it a lot more than you’d like to admit. You can’t wait for the day when somebody tells you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to them, and they mean it entirely and not just saying it because it sounds nice and maybe earn a second date with you. 

You used to treat that thought like a far off possibility that might happen one day, if you’re lucky. Because it was never about looks and just standards for you.

You don’t fall in love with looks; you fall for personality (at least that’s what you say for now but your actions might suggest both). If someone makes you smile and willingly joins you in doing dumb things, you’re basically already done. You don’t fall in love— you slip, fall, roll downhill, and accept your fate. That’s just how you are.

And soft spoken men… oh God, That’s been your number one pick in the great catalogue of men since the beginning of time.

Sweetheart, look how pretty that is! The voice comes from your side. 

You look beside you and realize you can’t really relate to your past self and her so-called ‘standards’ anymore. You have your boyfriend, Seokmin, who not only has the personality you always wanted, but is also disgustingly good looking; cute and hot at the same time for absolutely no good reason.

You’re walking under rows of cherry blossom trees, petals falling down around you like something out of a kdrama scene. Your hands are intertwined with his warm hands, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your knuckles as he talks.

He’s saying something more about the cherry blossom that you’re not even fully listening to except that he’s so happy talking about it and that’s all that matters to you to be honest, but his voice is so soft and exactly the kind you always said you liked • ᴖ •

You huff to yourself as you shake your head a little with a smitten smile as you look at him, stopping him from whatever he was saying, “stop being so husbandable if you can’t be my husband, bruh,” you tell him. You don’t even think he hears you, but then he stops walking. You take another step before realizing he’s no longer beside you, your hand slipping from his. You turn back confused, “why did you stop?”

Seokmin is just standing there looking at you in a way that makes you feel… nervous/stomach coiling all of a sudden? “What did you just say?” he looks at you caught off guard, probably can’t believe he’s hearing you right about being smitten over him for the nth time today, again.

“Nothing. I was just talking to myself,” you giggle.

He doesn’t walk when you turn forward to walk again, tugging your hand back to stop you from walking, “say it again.”

You squint your eyes a little with a smirk-smile, “why?”

“Just… please?” 

You hesitate to think if you should tease him or just say it again, then sigh because reality hit you and now you feeling a little embarrassed but it’s too late to backpedal, “I said, stop being so husbandable if you can’t be my husband. It’s not that serious,” you hide your face with your hands and sprint away from him a little.

He just chuckles hearing you repeat it and being so shy again instead of your usual smug/forward self. “Well,” he goes after you, “I think that’s something I can fix.”

You frown, “huh?—” he reaches into his pocket and your words die in your throat when he goes down on one knee. Now, your brain is refusing to process what’s happening, like it’s literally lagging behind reality… but then he pulls out a small beige leather box, and suddenly everything feels very dreamlike, “Seokmin…”

“I know,” he’s nervous but trying not to show it too much, “I know I joke a lot, and I know you might’ve been joking about it too, but—”  he continues, looking at you like nothing else exists, “you said you have high standards when we started dating… And I don’t even know if I will ever meet them, but I’ve been trying to.”

Your chest tightens so tight, it practically hurts. You want to tell him he exceeded everything you ever wanted from the bare minimum to the S-tier delusions you never thought you’d actually get. Stupid rich, offensively handsome, shining brighter than the sun for no reason, and with a personality so good it makes you consider violence as a form of support, having a personality that would make you kill anyone without hesitation if they made him even a little sad. 

“I don’t always know what I’m doing, but I know I want to be good to you… I really do. I want to be someone who takes care of you, who you can rely on, someone who makes things easier for you and not harder… I’m still figuring things out, but I know I don’t want to do that without you,” he’s still on his knees. “And… I don’t know if I say it enough but… you really are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he looks at you with googly eyes. This is exactly how you imagined it, except it doesn’t feel a far off possibility anymore, “and I mean it,” he adds.

You think you might as well start crying at this point, shit. “Baby…”

As he clicks the leather box open, the sunlight shines on the ring that seems less like jewelry and more like something plucked from a fairytale garden. Literally what you showed him one night, months ago about the styles you love and the styles you don’t. So, resting against the plush lining was a marquise cut diamond. Why you love this is because, the most beautiful part wasn't just the diamond, but how it was held; the rose gold band didn't follow a straight line, but instead twisted into vines that curled around the finger. Nestled along those shimmering gold branches were tiny, leaf shaped diamond clusters.

“So… will you let me be your husband?”

For a second, you just stare at the bright, bubbly, soft spoken man who became your reality. So basically the person who fits every single thing you used to think about like it was impossible.

You manage to breathe again and breathlessly laugh a bit as you shake your head as tears blur your vision. “Yes,” you say immediately after. “Yes, of course.”

His face lights up brighter than the sun or the diamond in the box, relief and happiness crashing into each other as he lets out a laugh of his own. “Really?”

“Obviously,” you mumble even as your voice wavers. “You’re already so husbandable. That’s literally the problem.”

He grins, eyes crinkling as he slips your dream ring onto your finger. “Heh,” he says with a big pretty smile that you absolutely adore. “Then I guess I’m right on track,” he says, but he doesn’t let go of your hand after sliding the ring on. If anything, his grip tightens; he needs to make sure this is actually happening.

He immediately cups your cheek so gently with one hand as his thumb brushes beneath your cheekbone, and the other at your waist.

Leaning in, his touch tightens just a bit as his breath brushes your upper lip first before his mouth connects with yours. His hand at your waist grips tighter and draws you closer without force while his fingers at your cheek angle your face just enough so he can deepen it. 

Slowly, the kiss breaks in a reluctant pulling away that leaves the air between you buzzing. He doesn't pull back far but a little to rest his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours in a gentle friction. For a long moment, the only sound is the ragged synchronization of your breathing and the rustle of the cherry blossoms around you. Slowly, his hands move; the one at your cheek slides down to find your hand, his fingers lacing through yours as he leads you back toward the path. This is when you realise that the world hasn’t changed, but the two of you have.

Under the shadows of the trees, his thumb keeps brushing over the ring over and over again. You’re now staring at your hand.

It feels… strange, but not in a bad way. “Hey,” he says with that pretty smile on his lips. You look up to find him not beaming anymore; instead, his expression has softened into a look so soft and anxious it feels like he’s laid his entire heart bare right there under the trees. But pretty all the same. “You’re really okay with this?” he asks.

You look at him, a little dumbfounded, but there’s no hiding the adoration in your voice or your heart. “You literally just proposed.”

“I know, but—” he takes out a breathless laugh, a sign that he’s a little nervous again, “you joke a lot. I just want to make sure you didn’t say yes because of the moment or something.”

The weight of his gaze is heavy, but it’s a weight you realise you’re more than happy to carry for the rest of your life… but you stare at him for a second, dumbfounded all over again. You didn’t think your love for him could grow any more, but now you know it can. “Lee Seokmin.”

He straightens at your tone. “Yes, love?”

“If I didn’t want to marry you, I would’ve run.”

“…that’s fair.”

“And also,” you hold your hand up between you, “you put a ring on me. There’s no take-backs now. This is legally binding.”

He snorts as the tension breaks instantly, “sweetheart, that’s not how it works,” he’s 

 with that smile that you love.

“It is now.”

He chuckles as he comes closer and connects your foreheads. Cherry blossoms keep falling around you as some even sit on his hair, on your shoulders, on your joined hands.

“Wait—,” you say suddenly as you gain some sort of enlightenment. 

He flinches, “what?”

“You said I’m the best thing that ever happened to you,” you raise your eyebrow at him, looking a little skeptical.

“…yeah?”

“But that’s crazy.”

He deflates on the spot like a puppy that just got told off, “why is that crazy?”

“Because,” you shrug, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face, “I was expecting something a little, you know, maybe a longer speech. Maybe, I don’t know, more tears? Actually! Was hoping for a breakdown.”

He stares at you, lower lip pushed out in a defiant swell that makes him look more like a kicked puppy than a newly engaged man. His brows are drawn together in a mock scowl, but the effect is completely ruined by the sheer, plush roundness of his mouth— a pout so dramatic and endearingly childish it feels like a physical provocation, “you’re making fun of me after I proposed?”

You’re internally, physically, going, sjjsjsnsbzkznzb, your heart doing frantic gymnastics against your ribs as a wave of pure cuteness aggression crashes over you. It’s him that’s making you want to either scream into a pillow or bite his cheek. You go on your tippy toes, catching that soft, stubborn protrusion with a kiss, physically pressing the gloom right off his face. “I said yes, didn’t I?” you whisper against his lips as you feel the tension melt out of him as the pout finally dissolves. “Be happy.”

He squints at you, then gives out a disbelieving laugh. “What do I do with you?” he squishes your cheeks.

“Love me,” you wink at him.

“I do,” he doesn’t hesitate before he leans down to give you a fast kiss on your lips.

It kicks the humor right out of your chest for a second, “…yeah,” you mumble as you look away and look at everything but him, “I know.”

He pulls you into him anyway as his arms wrap around you tightly. You huff, but your arms come up around him just as quickly, holding on just as tight. “Fiancée,” he whispers into your shoulder.

You make a face even though he can’t see it, “don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re obsessed with me.”

He leans back a little to look at you, eyebrows raised, “I am obsessed with you.”

“…okay, that’s embarrassing.”

“And you’re still marrying me.”

You sigh as if you’re annoyed by the fact as if you’re not actually completely gone for him, “yeah, unfortunately.”

He grins bright, completely unbothered and pats your head.

You stay like that for a moment longer, wrapped up in each other while petals keep falling around you. And then he laces your fingers together again, lifting your joined hands. “Come on,” he says.

“Where?”

He playfully smiles with a mixed sweet and teasing glint in his crinkling eyes, “we should probably keep walking. I don’t think proposing was the final destination.”

You look down at the ring catching the light, “… bruh you just changed my entire life mid walk,” you mumble.

“And you’re complaining?” he asked amused as a radiant grin breaks across his face that seems to catch the very photon of the road. It was his smile that didn’t sit on his lips; it crinkled the corners of his eyes into warm crescents and bared a perfect, gleaming row of teeth.

There was a genuine, boyish heat to it… you’ll literally go teary eyes to see a flash of his pure, unadulterated joy that makes his whole expression soften, turning his features into a map of sheer contagious light. Your man looks like a man who had never known a dark day in his life, or perhaps, like someone who had decided to be the sun for everyone else. So, you melt into his smile but being your pretense of being sane for him, “sure.”

He chuckles as the sound is a honeyed vibration that seems to absorb right in the marrow of your bones. He squeezes your hand as you both start walking again under the canopy of cherry blossoms. 

You’re walking side by side just like before, but every cell in your body feels electrified by the sudden change within the last ten to fifteen minutes. This isn’t just your best friend or the boy you grew up with; this is the man who just promised his forever to you. You’re trailing beside him as your eyes trace the line of his jaw and his crinkling eyes when he looks at you, feeling absolutely, hopelessly undone.

It’s a terrifying, dizzying kind of love for you. Like, no matter how many times you’ll say you’re down bad for him, you still wanna make sure that everyone knows that you’d follow him into a storm just to stay in his orbit. You watch the dappled light dance across his skin and honestly, you're a goner. You’re down bad, head over heels, and slipping deeper with every step he takes. He’s the only person who could make your heart feel this heavy and this light all at once, and as you tighten your grip on his hand, you realise you never want to surface for air. You swing your joined hands slightly, then look at him again, “by the way,” you add, “why are you so husbandable?”

He smiles without looking at you so it’s a secret thing that he seems to be savoring all to himself. But you saw it anyway. “Because now, I actually get to be your husband,” he looks at you after saying it.

You’re frozen when he looks at you like that, probably expecting you to hit him, flirt with him or say something more cheeky. But you’re still frozen by how he’s looking at you. Internally screaming, your brain is a mess of static because how are you supposed to function when he’s being this fucking perfect? You want to tuck the sound of his voice into your pocket and keep it forever. He’s not just ‘husbandable’ to you at this rate— he is the literal blueprint, the standard, the absolute end of the road for you, and the way he looks right now bathed in the spring light, makes you realise you are irrevocably, helplessly his.

*Twenty-four years ago*

“Yoon Jeonghan!” His mother’s voice boomed through the small home, your full name quickly following, but it was fruitless. The two of you were already running out the door, giggling, both of you with handfuls of the cookies that his mother had spent hours making.

“This way,” you tell him, and the seven-year-old boy nodded, following you without any further questions. Just like you did him.

Pushing aside a broken board in a fence, you and him slipped through into an abandoned looking backyard. On the other end of the yard, there was an old wooden shed and exactly where you were leading him. The once fresh and crisp wood now weathered from age and the elements; the door barely held onto its hinges, and a window that had several cracks in it.

Your hidden oasis. Yours and Jeonghan's little hide out.

Inside the old building, cobwebs covered corners of the walls. There was an old lawnmower that was rusted and abandoned to time and a built-in table to one side that was already filled with other snacks and drinks you both swiped from each other’s home. There were also two small sleeping bags laid out to be able to sit on the ground without getting your bottoms dirty.

“I can’t believe she fell for that,” Jeonghan giggled, setting his share of the cookies onto a broken plastic plate, one your grandmother threw away and you dug out of the trash to use in your ‘hide out’.

“I told you, she would. She’s like my grandma when she is baking.” You tell him with ease. Your seven-year-old confidence was admirable, your share joining his on the plate, except for one that you were going to eat. Taking a bite of the soft warm cookie, you continued to talk with your mouth full, “It was all a matter of striking at the right moment. You know this, Hanni.”

“She is going to be so mad at me when I get home,” He chuckled, his own mouth now full of cookies. You roll your eyes, reaching up from your place on the ground to grab two juice boxes, because you knew Jeonghan’s mom wasn’t going to be that mad. Not like your grandma would be at least. “She will be!”

“She never stays mad at you,” You quipped, dropping your cookie to cross your arms, a pout already forming. “You hardly ever get in trouble.”

“That’s not true!” Jeonghan shot back, copying you exactly, but stuck his tongue out in the process. “You don’t know how often I get in trouble. Especially because of you!”

“I don’t tell you to join in! I suggest!” You could feel your body growing hot with annoyance, dropping your arms with your fists now clenched. “You are the one who gets me in trouble all the time!”

“Yes, you do! You pulled my hair the last time I didn’t go with one of your plans!” Jeonghan snapped, and you gasped like he had just insulted your entire doll collection. Then you hit his arm, and his face darkened. “See! You hit me if I don’t agree with you!”

“You pushed me in the mud the last time I disagreed with you!” You countered, your young voices rising as you both did, getting into each other’s faces. “And I was grounded for a week after that too! I couldn’t watch TV because of you!”

Somehow this turned into a little squabble, where you and Jeonghan grabbed each other. Your hand was in his short dark hair, while he was trying to swat you off, crying out to let him go. In the middle of it, one of your feet kicked the plate that held your stolen cookies, breaking the plastic further and the baked treats were now being trampled by your feet.

“Look what you did!” Jeonghan yelled,  pointing to the cookies when he finally was able to get your hand out of his hair while you stood there. Your face contorted into anger, and more offense that he would blame you when he was being the mean one.

“I didn’t just do that! You did too!” You retorted, and the young boy rolled his eyes. “Our cookies are ruined! And so is our little spot! You need to clean that up!”

“No, you!”

“You!”

In the end, the two of you ended up sitting on opposite ends of the sleeping bags. Arms crossed, backs facing each other, while the broken cookies and plate rested between you both. The silence was loud as you both refused to be the one to speak first, both of you too stubborn to break first.

In the end it was Jeonghan who broke the silence, standing to grab another juice box for you both and a packet of candies that you liked from the table. A peace offering in a way. You shot him a look, your eyes dropping to the candies and juice box before up to his face. His gaze was softer, with an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, and you tried to keep up being mad, but the way his bottom lip jutted out as he apologized made it hard. Instead, you reached out and took the offerings, and he sat down next to you.

“Sorry too...” You mumbled, sharing the candies with him before cleaning up the broken plate and ruined cookies.

*Thirteen years ago*

“Oh my god, Jeonghan, stop hogging the joint!” You whined, reaching for the rolled up paper that had your weed in it, but Jeonghan seemed to be trying to smoke it all to himself.

“Give me. Remember its puff puff give. I only did one puff.” He retorted, holding the joint just out of your reach so you were practically falling into the eighteen-year-old boy.

“Bullshit! That was more than one; hell it was more than two! It was like three!” You argued back, your arm still outstretched to grab the joint from him, “Yoon Jeonghan, if you don’t give me that joint now, I am beating your bitch ass up.”

“Please like you can take me,” Jeonghan laughed, attempting to put the burning joint back to his lips, his other arm trying to push you back while you fought to grab it from him.

You both were back at the shed again, the same old structure still holding out even after all these years, but things were different. The old lawnmower was now gone and sitting next to the it, collecting more rust and cobwebs in its new home, the webs in the corners no longer there, and the sleeping bags had changed to an old loveseat that one of your friends found. The juice boxes and snacks that were once on the table were replaced with a pizza box, a half empty bottle of Jeonghan’s dad stolen whiskey, a baggy of cheap weed, and some rolling papers.

And the two seven-year-olds who would hide away in it with stolen snacks, or other things to entertain were now eighteen. Freshly graduated from high school, stuck in that limbo stage where you both weren’t quite adults but not quite children anymore, and preparing for the next steps in your life. You were going off to a school abroad while Jeonghan was staying back in your hometown, choosing to go to a local college first.

“God, you’re so annoying,” You pouted, practically pushing him back and sitting on his stomach to grab the joint, but laughter was filtering out of you before you could stop it. Bringing laughter from the pinned man below you, a lazy smirk played over his lips like he was meant to win this no matter what. “Jeonghan, you’re going to smoke it all!”

“Then I will buy you more!” He argued, and you slapped his chest. Grabbing your wrist before you could hit him again, Jeonghan’s grip held you there as he lifted the joint to your lips. Like instinct, you took a deep inhale, letting the harsh herb fill your lungs and altering your non-sober state more. You try to free yourself from him, so you can smoke it how you wanted, but he wouldn’t let you.

Pulling back finally, you blew the smoke from your lungs into the air, and it was then that Jeonghan let you go, only to be smacked in the chest once more before you slipped off him and back to your seat next to him. Your leg tucked under you, your bare skin pressing into the old wood by your weight, but you ignored any possible splinters that may come from it.

“You suck, you know that?” You tell him, and this earned another chuckle from him.

“And you blow. We’re both whores here.” Jeonghan teased, placing the joint between his lips to rest his arms behind his head. Each breath inhaled the smoke from nearly finished joint into his lungs. His long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but there were several strands that fell loose around his face.

His old Sublime shirt torn in a different place and showed off his stomach from the way he was laying, skinny jeans, and a gold chain with angel wings that was once yours laying against his throat. Skin glowing from the setting sun and the lantern behind you both, making him look ethereal.

You envied how beautiful your best friend was.

“Give me that,” You quipped, taking the chance to swipe the joint from him. A triumphant smile was playing over your lips before you realized that it was nearly gone. “You asshole, you smoked most of this.”

“And you drank most of my whiskey. Call us even.” He answered dismissively, closing his eyes briefly.

“Whatever,” you told him, taking whatever hit you can of the joint before putting it out, smashing it hard against the wood. Silence followed, the two of you sitting at the doorway of the shed, your eyes scanning the overgrown yard and the half burnt down house just feet from you.

It’d been like that for years, with no one coming to do anything about the destroyed home or the property it stood on, making it a haven for you and Jeonghan growing up, and a place of many things. Your first kiss with a boy that smelled like he used a whole can of body spray to cover that he hadn’t bathed, Jeonghan’s first kiss with a girl who tried to fight you over him.

You spent nights in the shed to avoid your grandparents and their old fashion but offensive words, many with Jeonghan right next to you. Refusing to leave you while you refused to crash at his place, because you knew his mom would call your grandparents. You got high and drunk for the first time with him next to you, and blasted music through a shitty speaker that neither of you could explain the origin of.

Hell, you two used it as a place to hide once when you had the cops called on you for stealing. You don’t think either of you had ever been so scared thinking you were caught, but it didn’t stop you because the thrill left you both laughing until your stomach hurts.

You laughed, cried, and felt every emotion you could think of in this shed, with Jeonghan beside you. In a week's time, you will be on a plane to a new country with a family friend willing to house you during your studies, and away from your home. Away from your life, away from the little shed. Away from the comforting blanket of your hometown.

Away from Jeonghan.

“You’re thinking too loud again,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, turning your gaze toward your best friend. He was still laying back; arms folded behind his head as a pillow and prop, with his eyes on you. A small sad smile played on his lips, because he knew what you were thinking about too. “Talk to me, bug.”

"You're a bug. I should squish you," You answer back, matching his smile as you watched him let our a breathy laugh.

“I would like to see you try. You couldn’t even get the joint from me.” He then lifts his leg to nudge you with his knee. “Now, talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I mean, yeah your face is, but it’s at least pretty while being it.” He offered and you slapped his knee. He then sat up, giving you the famous lazy Jeonghan smirk you grew up seeing, but you could tell it was only a front.

“Just… growing up.” You told him, gesturing between the two of you, “We’re no longer kids anymore…”

“Debatable.” He murmured while you spoke.

“…we graduated high school and are preparing to be thrusted into the real world. We’re having to finally grow up and face life. I’m…” The words failed you then, and in its place was a soft choking sound. A sob that wanted to burst through, but you managed to swallow it back while blinking the sudden tears that wanted to fall. Jeonghan could see it all as he nodded. “I’m leaving… leaving everything I know…” This time your voice cracked, “Leaving you.”

“Please, the moment you agreed to marry me on the playground at five you were stuck with me.” Jeonghan answered, doing what he did best, trying to make light of something instead of showing what he’s really feeling. And you hated that it would work more times than it didn’t. “Just… there is going to be some distance between us. It’s not like I’m not a phone call or message away, and we’ll see each other again. This isn’t a final thing.”

“It feels like it is.” This comment made him tsk at you.

“It doesn’t to me.” He shook his head, watching through broken windows as a car passed by. The driver wouldn’t even know you were sharing one of the last times together before life took hold of you. One of the last times you would be free like this, this age, in the moment, and with the only person, besides your grandparents, who stuck by your side.

Someone you grew up with, someone you got into trouble with, someone who never was fake with you. Someone you saw every day and spent most of it with. Your best friend.

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. How could it be when we are still so young?” He asked simply and you could only listen to him, “It’s also not like you are leaving for good. Your grandparents are still here; your friends are here… I am here.”

“But what if our lives don’t allow room for each other anymore?” This earned another tsk, as well as an offending sounding laugh. Hurt flashed across his eyes before he looked away, like it was preposterous to even say something like that.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ll always have room for you in my life.” He said curtly, and you dropped your shoulders while making an over exasperated sigh. That wasn’t what you meant.

“Ugh, Hanni, I don’t mean it like that.” He turns his attention back to you, before flashing it toward the whiskey bottle. “I mean... what if even when I come home… we don’t have time for each other? We don’t get to see each other. You’re going to be working, going to school, and eventually you’re going to fall in love and have a partner. Same for me too.”

“I’m not sure how that sounds any different than your previous statement,” Jeonghan mumbled this, pushing his lip out in a pout. Reaching out, he caught a tear falling with his thumb, only to yank his hand away and shake it like he touched lava. This did what he wanted it to, which was to laugh.

“Hanni…”

“It’s okay. I forgive you for hurting my feelings. This is a hard time for us both,” There was so much honesty to his words, it was also written all over his face. He was trying to not think about the inevitable, which was you were leaving. Not the forever he had declared, but it was still hard. “It’s not just you losing something, I’m losing my best friend. My partner in crime. Who am I going to get into mischief with? Joshua?”

“I mean… at least he’ll keep you from getting arrested.”

“If he’s not too busy fucking anything that will let him.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “But I’m serious. You’re not the only one who loses something in this. Except I’m not accepting that this is it, because it’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do, I’m Yoon fucking Jeonghan. I can bend the will of others with a flick of my wrist, and this will bend to my will.” You still don’t look convinced, and he clicks his tongue before speaking again, “How about this? If life takes us on different paths that separate us further, then the year we turn thirty-one, we meet again. You and me… and any husbands, wives, fiancés, life partners or children we may have. Somewhere nice, somewhere where our busy lives can’t touch us. Where we can catch up, and remember that it’s always been us, and it will always be us.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now ask me what will happen if life doesn’t do that.” He smirks, and you giggle.

“What will happen if life doesn’t?”

“Then we do it still!” He announced throwing his arms up, before one found its way over your shoulder. “No matter what, no matter where life takes us, we meet the year we turn thirty-one.”

“Why thirty-one though?”

“Because it’s too cliché to meet when we turn thirty. Goodness, this isn’t one of those romance movies you make me watch.” He gave you a brief squeeze before getting up to grab the whiskey bottle. “So, what you say?”

“I can easily argue that the last three romances we watched was because of you, not me.” Jeonghan sat back down next to you, the bottle in his hand, but it remained unopen. His attention was on you, his eyes watching you as you try to find the words. Every part of him told you that he was serious about this, and it helped ease an ache that was building in you. “And let’s do it.”

“Perfect. Now let’s drink to the future.”

A week later, you were clinging to him at the airport as your grandfather got your luggage together. This time tears weren’t holding back, Jeonghan wasn’t able to say anything to help because he was busy fighting his own. Instead, he just held you as you gripped at the offensive SpongeBob shirt he was wearing, soaking it with not just your tears, but the mascara and eyeliner you had thickly drawn on. Only to have it cried away telling your best friend goodbye for now.

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft when he pulled back, making you look at him. His eyes were shining, and red. Evidence that he’d been crying, though you knew he’d insist he’s actually high, and it nearly broke you. “Remember what I said. The year we turn thirty-one.”

You nodded, and he gives you a soft smile.

“I’ll send you the details, so make sure you have the entire year free.” He teased and you let out a soft laugh before jumping from him, pinching you. You break away from his grasp to hit his shoulder. This earned a soft laugh from you, your eyes dropping to the angel wing necklace that still rested around his neck.

“I’ll be sure to have all my information changed by then.” You laughed, and he pinched your side again. Your name then came from behind you both, your grandparents calling to you. It was time to go. Looking back at Jeonghan, you gave him a watery smile, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” This was the first time his voice finally cracked, and a tear started to fall. It was real. It was happening.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“You better.” He teased. “I will see you again.”

“See you again.”

**A year ago**

Your phone chimed right as you were cooking dinner, cutting off the music playing briefly, but you weren’t able to stop what you were doing to look. Too focused on making sure that you didn’t burn anything, but the couple that was in the kitchen with you noticed.

“Need me to check that?” You heard Celeste ask, and you looked over your shoulder, to her and Soonyoung grabbing the plates and cutlery for the table.

“No, it’s okay. I can check it later,” You waved her off, “Dinners ready, and we have a proposal to go over.”

“I thought there was no work talk at dinner?” Soonyoung teased, making you shoot your friend and co-owner a look, only to earn a playful wink back. He then turned to his fiancé with a smile, “If we’re working while we eat, you might as well open two bottles. One for us and one just for her.”

“Watch it Kwon, or I’ll run this company with Celeste instead” You warned him, grateful that Celeste was already stepping in to grab his collar to drag him out of the kitchen with everything to arrange at the table.

Twenty minutes later, the three of you were sitting around the table, two wine bottles open with one in front of you and one between the couple. You all were talking animatedly about the proposal that you and Soonyoung were putting together, hoping that the potential investor takes on your ideas and help launch your small business globally. Soonyoung had been right to have your own bottle open; it helped ease the tension that was building in your shoulders over all this, and there were more laughs than not.

“I think we should add some tiger imagery to the presentation; you think we can do that?” Soonyoung suggested a wine glass coming up to his lips, only for it to be stopped by his fiancé. He looks at her with confusion as she only shook her head. Celeste supported his love for tigers, but even she knew when to draw the line.

“I should hire you as our creative director,” You joked, tipping your own wine glass in her direction. “You can save me from a lot of tiger themed merchandise and advertising.”

“I love you, but if I took that, I probably would be canceling the wedding instead of planning a honeymoon,” Celeste laughed, and Soonyoung looked offended. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know how you are when you’re working. We met at work, remember?”

“Of course, I do. I barely was able to focus at meetings because all I wanted to do was look at you,” You actively rolled your eyes as the couple stared at each other like they hung the sun and the moon for each other, and it reminded you just how single you have been for the last few years. Happily single, but not when you were around these two being so sickeningly in love.

“Gag me.” You muttered making the two look at you. Celeste playfully stuck her tongue at you, and Soonyoung pretended to growl. That was when you knew that you had lost them both to being lovey toward each other. You took this chance to check your phone, remembering it had gone off while you were cooking.

It was a message. From Jeonghan.

Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened around the stem of your glass, or you were going to drop it onto the table and spill wine all over the place. Casting your eyes up, you were relieved to see your two friends were still too busy staring at each other to notice your reaction.

You and him hadn’t really spoken in nearly six years, not since you came home for your grandfather’s funeral. Of course, you would wish each other a happy birthday, send the occasional meme, or a quick hello, but other than that, you barely spoke. You didn’t want to admit that it was hard for you to respond because it made you want to go back to being that eighteen-year-old again.

But you knew what this was about. You had turned thirty recently, and his thirtieth was a few months away, which meant that the promise the two of you had made at eighteen, smoking and drinking in that abandoned shed, was also coming due. And he was reaching out to solidify the plans.

You should’ve waited to read and respond after your friends left, when you had time to yourself, but you didn’t. Clicking the notification, you unlocked the phone to read the message. Only to find it was confirmation for your plane tickets, and a set of dates. The first week of April next year, and for a week.

Back home. Where you hadn’t stepped foot in nearly six years.

A few more messages had followed.

Jeonghan: Told you to keep your schedule open. Jeonghan: See you in April, bug.

**two days before**

You might’ve been overthinking it. No, you were overthinking this as you stared at an empty suitcase, piles of clothes folded around it on your bed, bags of new clothes at the foot of the bed, and your toiletries all laid out on your bathroom counter. All waiting to be packed.

None of your clothes had felt right, the makeup you chose to bring felt too plain, and your nerves were starting to suffocate you. A part of you felt like you shouldn’t feel this nervous, because it was just Jeonghan, but another part felt you were justified because it was Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him in person since your grandfather’s funeral, only ever seeing his life through photos that he posted online.

Picture of him traveling with Joshua, and with your other friends, and relationships that never seemed to last a few months before the person disappeared from his photos. You watched his success in becoming a pharmacist like he had always wanted and was making a life for himself. He owned his own home, and he appeared happy with his life.

You had done the same, but away from him. You made a life where you now were, and selfishly barely looked back; especially after your grandfather had passed. You made friends where you were, had relationships, started a business with Soonyoung, and you made a life for yourself. You had become a different person, like he had.

This fact wasn’t the only thing that had your nerves starting to settle uneasy in your gut. You were both different, and what if that difference was so great that neither of you could enjoy your time together again. Uncomfortable strangers the entire week instead of old friends looking to reconnect.Not only that, but what if also being back home made it worse? That being there was more painful than it should be, and it made you resent your oldest friend for bringing you back?

Then your phone chimed, with a message coming through.

Jeonghan: See you when you land. Jeonghan: And stop overthinking things. I can hear your thoughts all the way over here. Haha.

That made you burst out in a laugh, because of course this silly line he used to say to you growing up would help loosen some tightness in you. It didn’t settle your nerves though, it only unraveled them, so they weren’t making you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

You responded.

You: Too late, so deal with it.

His response was instantaneous.

Jeonghan: Gladly.

**April**

You swore this entire journey had been one big April Fool’s joke with the way everything had gone wrong. You managed to finally pack everything, though you still weren’t happy with your choices you couldn’t just go naked, but you overslept the morning of your flight. The ride you had ordered was canceled at the last minute, making you late to the airport and nearly missed boarding.

Checking in had been a nightmare, and then there was a delay taking off.

When the plane did finally set off, you thought you would be in the clear for now. It would be smooth flying after this, and the bad luck got itself out of the way now than following you the entire trip. You hoped that the long flight will go well and give you a chance to rest, or Jeonghan was going to see you have an absolute crash out over it all.

You managed to get enough sleep, so you weren’t as cranky when you landed, but it left you feeling stiff. You even tried to stretch some before unboarding, but it and the awkward shuffling didn’t help. Gripping at your carryon, your focus was to get your suitcase and out of the airport. There’s a bed somewhere calling to you, and you were ready to meet the call.

With your suitcase now secured, you checked your phone to see if Jeonghan was there yet after insisting on picking you up instead of ordering a ride. Except when you looked around the semi-crowded airport, you didn’t see him anywhere. There was no sight of the famous Jeonghan smirk, no sign being dramatically held up with your name, or anything like that.

Your phone started to ring in your hands.  

“Where are you?” You answered, pressing the device to your ear and skipping any and all pleasantries. This earned a chuckle on the other side, and your eyes immediately narrowed. Even with the time apart, you knew never to trust that chuckle.

“About that…” He started slowly, showing you were right not to trust it. There was no way he was going to try and fuck with you, but you should’ve known better, “I am running late, car troubles, won’t be there for a few hours. You’re going to have to wait until I get there.”

“Yoon Jeonghan…” You took in a slow breath, trying to fight the annoyance that was bubbling under the surface. No, he wasn’t going to do this to you after the trip you’ve just had, “You better not be fucking with me right now.”

“I wish, I could say I was,” There was a sigh to his voice, but before you could let him have it, he continued, “I am very sorry, bug. I wish I was there to see you right now. With your hair an absolute mess, your sweater falling off you, and the way you are pouting right now. It’s so cute.”

“Huh?” You blinked, looking down at your body. Your sweater had fallen from your shoulders and was resting right at your elbows while strands of your hair escaped the loose ponytail you had put up. How the hell did he know if he wasn’t there? Before you could question it, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Twisting around, Jeonghan was standing there.

The phone still pressed to his ear, eyes shining with excitement and mischief, and that smirk that you once knew oh so well. His hair was shorter than the last time you seen him with it back to his natural dark brown. He was in a simple black t-shirt with a matching jacket and a pair of white pants, and you couldn’t stop the way your heart skipped at the sight of him.

“April Fool’s. Forgive me?” He teased, barely able to hang up the call before you were throwing your arms around his neck for a hug. The force of you jumping into him made Jeonghan stumble back slightly, but once he was able to catch his footing, his arms wrapped around your waist.

He pulled you so close your body was pressed against his like he had been desperate for this moment, but you were no better. Nuzzling your nose into his shirt, taking in the scent of his perfume and the way he held you tight. His own nose pressed to your hair, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and shampoo, fingers flexing and squeezing gently at your sides.

Both of you forgot that you were still in the middle of the airport.

“You asshole!” You finally bursted out when the two of you parted, slapping his arm while he laughed at you attempting to scold him. He saw the smile forming over your lips, making the smirk he was wearing turn into a genuine smile. One that nearly stole the very breath from you, “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.” He still hadn’t let go of you, his hands resting on your hips like they always belonged there, his gaze drinking you in. Then he stepped back, withdrawing his hold on you to reach for your suitcase handle, “Now, let’s get out of here before you shove me into the cargo hold of one of these planes.”

“You would deserve it,” You retorted earning an eye roll from him. One hand placed firmly against the small of your back, and the other pulling your suitcase behind you. With cool precision, Jeonghan directed you out of the airport while chatting with you about his day and asking you about your flight.

Like it was all part of a daily conversation you would always have, and there was no time between your last full conversation that wasn’t in text.

“After you,” Jeonghan announced, making sure to open the passenger door for you while providing an overexaggerated bow that made you playfully swat his shoulder. A giggle escaped you as you got into the car, while he finished putting your suitcase in the back. Settling into the driver’s seat, he flashed you a lazy smile and you missed the way his hand twitched slightly to reach for yours. Instead he put the car into drive. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You know, you never told me where I was staying.” You told him, your eyes watching the way the town looked now. Businesses that were once there on the main street gone, replaced with franchise stores and popular food spots. Places that you once occupied with your friends or grandparents gone, showing that the town was growing and changing like you had.

It didn’t feel like your old home, but there was still something about it that told you it was. Just with a different look.

“Easy. With me.” He said with no hesitation, making you look at him. He had a pair of black sunglasses on, leaning back against the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his lap. Looking relaxed as he drove through the familiar streets. Stopping at a light, he cast a glance your way and you weren’t sure, but you thought that his relaxed smile faltered slightly. “Rather get a room? The old motel is still open, but you might have to cuddle with some roaches and a few rats.”

“I think I am good on that,” You don’t hide your look of disgust, and this made Jeonghan start laughing as the light turned. “I would like the bed I sleep on be free of other occupants.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, his focus on the road letting silence fall over you. The radio was playing quietly, and you started to notice the familiar names of the streets.

They were the same names you would see every day growing up, the same streets you used to run around growing up. You chance a glance toward Jeonghan, only to find his focus on the road but the look on his face told you that he was waiting for your reaction.

Especially once he turned on the familiar street that the two of you grew up on.

“I knew you moved close to family, but I didn’t know you…” The words stopped in your throat when you pulled up to a beautiful home. It looked newer compared to the others on the street. White with grey trimming and a neatly cut yard with a stone pathway that lead right up to a small porch with a planter next to the door.

It was beautiful and unfamiliar, but you knew this property. It didn’t matter how long it had been since you came back; you knew exactly where you were.

“Come on, bug. Let’s get inside.” Jeonghan didn’t give you a chance to process your thoughts before he was shutting off the engine and unbuckle both of your belts. He was out of the car, leaving you there staring at the empty seat that he had once occupied.

It was the sound of the trunk closing that you were able to kick start back up and rushed to get out the car to follow him up the small pathway to the front door. Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes wide staring at the home and Jeonghan’s back.

Once inside, you didn’t stop to look around the home, instead your feet took you from the front door, through the open living room to a set of glass doors. If Jeonghan had said something to you, you didn’t hear it because your focus was getting to the backyard. You barely looked around the yard itself, just that it was well taken care of.

No, your focus was on the shed that was in the same familiar place. You could feel tears starting to burn your eyes, memories flooding back to you, your eyes flicking over to the fence that once had a broken board. It was fixed with forsythias and azaleas flourishing in front of it, but you could still see a young Jeonghan popping through it while you waited for him at the shed.

“It’s not the same one.” Jeonghan said softly behind you, but you didn’t look back, not wanting him to see a few tears fall. “The old owners finally sold the property four years ago to a realtor company. They rebuilt the house and tore down it before putting the place back on the market.”

“And you bought it.” You responded, finally looking at him. He had his hands in his pants pockets, balancing on the balls on his feet, while his eyes were on you, catching more tears starting to fall.

“Yeah, well, with the help from my parents. With conditions obviously,” Jeonghan continued, keeping his attention on you, “Moment I moved in, I had the shed put back in. It’s used to actually store shit, not a hang out like we used to have it, but just something didn’t feel right without it there.”

“What was the conditions?” You asked in a small voice, trying to wipe away the wetness from your face, when Jeonghan caught your elbow. Pulling you into a hug, he let out a soft tsk.

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” It was a clear deflection, but he wouldn’t let you wiggle away from him to call him out. Then his hands found its way to your sides and started to tickle you.

“Jeonghan!” You let out a small squeal, giggling while trying to get away from him. His own laughter mixed through yours in a sweet melody, helping you forget your tears.

“Come on, let me show you to your room.” His arm thrown lazily over your shoulder, directing you back toward the house. “And no roaches or rats to cuddle with.”

Jeonghan gave you a brief tour of his home, a kitchen and living room open floor style. Three bedrooms, the larger one with an ensuite on one side, while the two smaller ones with a Jack n Jill style on the other. Your room faced the yard, giving you perfect view of the shed, while Jeonghan had the larger room.

He left you to unpack and get cleaned up from your travels. The shower felt good, hot water helping you loosen the still sore muscles from your long flight and fight off the fatigue that you didn’t know was creeping up on you. By the time you had gotten out, your skin felt flushed from the heat with your hands and feet slightly wrinkled. The towel Jeonghan had left out was dark grey, soft and fluffy and felt like heaven against your skin.

It felt good to be out of your airport clothes and in a soft pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt. Your hair was still slightly damp, so you left it loose around your bare face Now that you were back around Jeonghan, the nerves you were feeling all but melted away and didn’t feel like you needed to look all done up just to lounge around the house.

“Hope you’re hungry.” He announced proudly when you finally emerged, setting two beer bottles on the table with a spread of take out. He wasn’t looking your way. “You took so long I managed to make us a feast.”

“Make us a feast huh?” You laughed, crossing your arms as you take in the sight before you. “Wanted to make sure it was authentically homemade by including the plastic containers?”

“I mean, only the best for…” His words died on his tongue as he went to look at you, his hand slowly dropping to his side. There was a flicker of awe and desire that went across his face before he shook his head, and it was replaced with a smirk. “…you...”

“I feel so honored,” You went to pull out of the chairs to sit, but Jeonghan had beat you to it by pulling it out for you instead, before taking a seat next to you, focusing on the containers. Grabbing both beers, you popped them open with ease and set them down in front of you both.

Dinner consisted of the two of you stuffing your faces, battling over the last pieces of meat, which he won by cheating at rock, paper, scissors. You drank several beers between you each while talking about work, friends, family, and life. You told him about meeting Celeste in college then later Soonyoung through her, the jewelry business that you and him thought up after too many bottles of wine, how it actually was doing well, and the couple’s upcoming wedding.

While Jeonghan told you about college, the trouble him and their friends got into, updated you on his parents and sister, and about the pharmacy he works at with Joshua. You laughed over stories, and it felt like no time had passed between you.

“What about relationships?” Jeonghan asked, leaning back in his chair with a beer close to his lips, watching the way you swirled your beer around in the bottle. “Anyone special?”

“Just a vibrator named Owini with two I’s.” This made Jeonghan raise a brow as he took a sip. “O.W.I.N.I. Orgasm when I need it.”

“Clever.” He coughed out after nearly choking on his beer, laughing at the name.

“What about you? Anyone in your life?” It was your turn to watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. Jeonghan was leaning back against the chair, looking forward with a half-smile playing over his lips.

“No one special. At least not for a long time.” He answered finally, finishing his beer with a smack to his lips. Licking them, he sat the beer down onto the table before standing and stretched. He ignores the confused expression on your face with his sudden movements, “Let’s get this all cleaned up bug and have a few more beers. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

You nod your head slowly, following suit to help throw away the empty containers and put away anything that you two didn’t finish. When you were done, Jeonghan grabbed a few more beers from the fridge and met you at the sofa to find something to watch. Picking some random movie that you couldn’t remember the name, both of you talked and laughed until all the beers were empty and Jeonghan was half asleep on the sofa.

**Day 2**

“Oh, it is so good to see you sweetie!” Jeonghan’s mother wouldn’t let go of you, hugging you tightly as if you were going to disappear on her if she did. The next day the two of you had gone to his parents’ for lunch on his mother’s insistence, “I missed you, my dear.”

“I missed you too,” You answered, giving Jeonghan a ‘save me’ look when she didn’t let go, only for him he didn’t come to save you, instead just watched with mild amusement from his place against the kitchen counter. Releasing you from the hug, she grasped your shoulders to look at you, making you turn your gaze back to her.

“You should not stay away so long,” She scolded, leaning forward like she was revealing a secret, “Our Hanni has not been the same since the last time you left.”

“Oh…” You let out a nervous laugh, looking back toward Jeonghan with a questioning gaze, but he was no longer looking at you. Instead, he was staring warning daggers into his mother’s back. It reminded you how he wouldn’t look at you the previous night either, but before you could say anything further, you were being lead to a table full of food.

“Sit, sit. I hope you are hungry, I made all of your favorites.” You were then gently pushed into a seat, with Jeonghan following and took a seat next to you, “Oh goodness, I forgot drinks. Let me grab those.”

“I told her not to do all this, but she insisted,” Jeonghan had muttered so only you could hear.

“I believe it,” You responded back, leaning toward him with a raised brow, “What did she mean by you haven’t been the same?”

“Nothing, just missed my best friend is all,” He answered simply. For a brief moment you thought his gaze dropped to your lips before he looked away to speak with his mother. Changing the subject all together as well.

The rest of the visit had consisted of more catching up, with Jeonghan’s father and sister coming by to join in, but you were barely able to pay attention. You couldn’t stop looking over toward Jeonghan, feeling that there was something more than ‘he just missed his best friend’.  Like true Jeonghan fashion, he didn’t give anything away.

There was a possibility that you might be looking too much into it, reminding yourself that before you left for college, the two of you were with each other every day, and were inseparable. Hell, every time you came home, you and Jeonghan would always be together. Then after your grandfather passed away, you just… stopped coming back.

It wasn’t that you had wanted to stay away, it just was harder to come back now that both your grandparents were gone. It was hard to come back when you no longer would walk into the home you grew up to them, and life just kept getting into the way. Work ended up taking precedence since you and Soonyoung were focused on your jewelry company, finding the time off had grew harder, or whatever excuse you gave to make yourself feel better for not coming back.

You had known that it had affected Jeonghan, going from having his best friend every day to a few times a year to sparse messages and social media posts, but you didn’t think that meant ‘he hasn’t been the same’.

After leaving the Yoons’, you went with him to run a few errands that he’d needed to run, and the entire time you still had his mother’s words playing in your head. Which he noticed, but like him, you wouldn’t give anything away, giving the excuse you were just in a food coma.

“I don’t believe you, just so you know.” He told you, pushing up his sunglasses with one finger while his other hand rested on the steering wheel. Casting a glance toward you, he noticed that you were looking out the passenger window. “You can keep your secrets for now, but I will get them out of you. I always do.”

“I can say the same for you.” You chirped back, your eyes on the different buildings passing by, taking in the different buildings. Some familiar, some different. You could hear him let out a breathy laugh. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. If I have to spill so will you.”

“Touche, bug.”

Once back to Jeonghan’s, you disappeared into your room to answer some emails and make a few calls for work. You may have been on a trip, but that didn’t mean that you were truly on vacation, and the workload never ends. Soonyoung was a great business partner and assured you that he had it all handled so you can enjoy your time away (since you would be doing the same when he and Celeste went on their honeymoon), but you needed a bit of a distraction.

“You hungry?” Jeonghan had asked at one point, knocking at your door as he opened it. A smile playing over his lips seeing you sitting cross legged on your bed, laptop open in front of you. You had changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a baggy sweater, your hair pulled back out of your face (save for a strand that wouldn’t stay) and look of concentration on your face.

You didn’t hear the hitch in his breath when you looked up at him, that look of concentration melt away to a small smile as you shook your head.

“I’m still full from that feast your mom made us,” You answered with a laugh, looking back to the laptop and to the email you had been working on. “I’m almost done here, just need to send off a few more emails, and then call Soonyoung regarding a large order of smokey quartz for our Smokey collection. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“You do know the whole point of this trip was to also not worry about work?” Jeonghan teased, making his way to the bed and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. Rolling onto his side, he looked up at you with his dark round eyes, shining with mischief with his hand inching toward the laptop to shut. Which you reached out and took with yours, holding it as you placed it back onto the bed. Making him pout.

“I am almost done, I promise.” You told him, not expecting the sudden urge to lean forward to kiss the pout he was sporting, nor the way you were still holding his hand. Or that he had adjusted the hold so that your fingers were laced together.

“Well, when you’re done, I’ll be right here.” He responded, finally letting go of your hand to roll onto his back, pulling his phone out to scroll. You raised your brow at him, he didn’t even look your way when he added, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m lonely out there and you’re in here working.”

“Price to pay on owning your own business.”

Though you did manage to get some work done, you couldn’t really concentrate with Jeonghan lying next to you, now fast asleep with his phone resting face down on his chest. The soft clicking of your fingers against the keys had lulled him into a sleep and you found yourself watching him several times. Taking in the way he still looked like the boy you had grown up with, only older. Thick lashes kissing his skin, skin still smooth but with the hints of age coming through. The lips that were pouting at you earlier, soft and plush looking, partially open with a soft snore leaving him. He looked peaceful, he looked breathtaking, he looked like he was where he was meant to be. Next to you. Your Jeonghan.

Your heart fluttered at this notion, the words your Jeonghan felt different even in your head. Or was it always this way and you just ignored it since he was your best friend.

When you finished your emails and came time to call Soonyoung, you chose to take it outside to not disturb the sleeping man next to you. You also wanted to enjoy the evening weather, finding yourself sitting on the step of the shed to take your call and maybe clear your head some.

The shed wasn’t the same, but the memories were still there when you sat down on the newer wood. The years you and Jeonghan spent in the old rickety building that once stood there, doing things that looking back neither of you had any business doing as teenagers. Drinking, smoking, and everything else that came with being rebellious teens and too much freedom to do it all.

It shaped who you both were as adults, and still a part of who you were. Even if you tried to run away.

“There you are.” Jeonghan’s tired voice had pulled you from your thoughts and tore your gaze from a patch in the grass to him. His face slightly puffy from sleep, and a yawn escaping him as he made his way to you before flashing you a lazy half grin. “Was wondering where you went.”

“I had to call Soonyoung and you were snoring. I didn’t want to wake you or have him questioning if I was next to a walrus.” You teased, unable to stop the corners up your lips to twitch up, earning a chuckle from the slender man.

“So, kind of you.” He muttered reaching you, leaning against the wall of the shed. The sun had already dropped past the horizon, but there was still a glow to the yard, emphasizing the shadows and adding a hauntingly beautiful look to the spring evening. “Clocked out now?”

“I’m always clocked in.” This made him chuckle, before slipping into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a joint. With the rolled herb between his lips, he lit it with the lighter. Taking a deep inhale, you watched him blow the smoke out. Looking your way, he offered it.

“You still smoke?” He asked, and you looked at the joint then back to his face. A brow raised, “Vernon managed to find some for me. I haven’t smoked since the last time you were here…”

“I actually quit myself,” You told him reaching out to take the burning herb and took a hit of it. The paper was damp from his lips, and the smoke felt harsher than it had in the past, making you cough out the cloud of smoke instead of inhaling it. You managed to take another pull from it, filling your lung with the herbal smoke. Allowing the head change take effect.

A silence followed, just the two of you passing the joint between you. Leaning back, your eyes went up toward the sky to take in the darkening sky as the stars start to appear. While Jeonghan just watched you.

“What did you mom mean?” You asked softly, after a few minutes of feeling his gaze and the joint passing between you. Looking down at the nearly finished joint, now a roach at this point, flicking some ash handing off it. “How weren’t you the same?”

“Were you?” He returned your question with one of his own, reaching for what was left of the joint. You let out a scoff.

“Of course I wasn’t. I lost both my grandparents within a year of each other, had to watch my uncle stick that stupid for sale sign in the ground before the dirt settle so he could pay his debts…” You waved your hand in the air at nothing, before dropping it into your lap. Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you continued. “I was hurting, I was angry at my uncle, I felt like I had nothing here that was mine anymore, and I just wanted to run away.” You took a breath, closing your eyes to hold back the angry tears that were prickling behind them. Remembering that feeling ruined your high. “I left already not the same, but how were you?”

Jeonghan didn’t respond for a moment, the flick of the lighter making you look toward him to find that a second joint appeared and was lighting it. He took a quick inhale of the sweet herb, before handing it to you.

“You need this more than I do,” He muttered as you took it, making you tempted to throw it at him and tell him to go fuck himself, but you stopped yourself. He looked up toward the sky, crossing his arms and you took in how he looked. His baggy jeans, and a shirt that had enough room for the both of you, hair sticking up from sleeping in your bed, and a pair of wired glasses. Ones he had to of thrown on after waking up.

You were slow to take a hit of the herb, watching him carefully.

“You had me.” He finally said, not answering your question. It should’ve infuriated you and call him out if you didn’t look so confused. Licking his lips, he looked at you before repeating himself. “You had me here still. I thought I was home for you too.”

Maybe he was answering after all, in his own cryptic way.

“You were… you are…” You told him, before sighing, “I don’t regret how long I’ve been gone, but I do regret not keeping in touch better with you. I should’ve tried better for that.”

“Maybe, but you’re here now.” Jeonghan leaned forward and took the joint from you. “I plan to make sure you remember that you’re home with me.”

You watched as the joint pressed between his lips, the way his eyes closed slightly as he took a hit, unable to tear your gaze away. Slowly his eyes opened and you could see there was a sign of mischief there. Hiding away the vulnerableness that he’d been displaying. You watch the way his own gaze dropped to your lips then back to your eyes, blowing the smoke gently from the side of his mouth.

“Why do I feel like you are trying to make me fall in love with you?” You asked, meaning for it to be a tease but it came out breathier then you meant. Part of you thinking he might kiss you, but instead he let out a laugh, leaning back against the shed wall. Like nothing happened.

“Who knows, maybe I am.”

**Day 3**

To say you didn’t really do anything was a bit of an understatement. There has been no plans for the day, aside from the plans to meet friends later, so you just laid around. Collecting your energy for a night out drinking and spending time with old friends. Well, at this point they felt more like Jeonghan’s friends rather than your own, but he had insisted that wasn’t the case. That everyone missed you and were excited to see you again.

Jeonghan also continued on the day like the previous night didn’t happen, as if he didn’t look at you like he wanted to kiss you, or ‘joke’ about you falling in love with him. He just laid around with you, bugging you at random times about how bored he was, but wouldn’t get up to do anything. He would whine about how warm you were, but he seemed to scoot closer instead of away.

He would random poke you if you weren’t paying attention to him, complain about anything you turned on, but refused to choose anything. And the entire time used his pouty voice if you snapped at him.

 “That’s it!” You growled out, grabbing the hand that attempted to pull a strand of hair falling into your face, distracting you so his other hand could tickle at your side. With his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your tank that had ridden up, making you jolt and grab that hand as well. Wrestling to get him to stop.

You’d forgotten that Jeonghan was a lot stronger than he looked, and could easily break your hold, but instead he was letting you think you were overpowering him. Filling the room with laugher, and in your wrestle, you found yourself straddling him.

Then you both froze, realizing how close you were. The tips of your noses brushing, both breathing heavy from the exertion, eyes locked with a new emotion coursing through you. Deeper than desire. Your hold then loosened on his wrists.

Now this wasn’t the first time you had ended up like this, you had many times in the past wrestling with each other. You’d done it since you were kids, with it always ending with you both laughing and unable to keep annoying the other.

This time…this time it was all different.

Your name fell from his lips before you were kissing him, which Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to return. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer until your chest was flushed against each other. A whimper left you at the desperation that flooded him, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, wanting more—which you willing gave him.

His lips felt like heaven against yours, and the way his tongue teased yours it left you needing more of him. More and more. Your fingers pushing through his soft strands, while his dug into your hips to pulling them down to grind on him. Feeling him already hardening underneath the soft grey fabric of his sweats, making you grow hot with need and dampen your underwear.

Then you broke from the kiss, staring at your best friend in shock while he stared at you with desperate need in his heavy lidded eyes. His bottom lip swollen from your kiss, hands still holding onto your hips like a vice, and his arousal pressing against you. With your own body ablaze with the same need right down to your core.

“I…” You scrambled off him to stand, “I… we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry… I… I need to get ready for tonight.”

Before Jeonghan could answer or stop you, you were already rushing to your room. Slamming the door behind you as you went, leaving him to stare at the space where you had been standing. Licking his lips, he slammed his fist onto the sofa cushion in frustration but stopped the frustrated groan that wanted to escape. Standing, he took off toward his room.

The ordered ride to the bar was an awkward one, with neither of you would speak or look at each other. You on one side of the backseat, playing with the pockets of your cargo pants before readjusting your tank and cardigan, the fabric not feeling like they fit right. While Jeonghan sat on the other side, looking out the window while his own hands were balled into fists on his lap.

The kiss hung between you, leaving you unsure how to approach it while Jeonghan was just unreadable. There’d been moments you thought he was angry with you, others he seemed frustrated, and then finally he appeared…sad. It ate at you, making it even harder to find the words.

The sound that erupted from the group when you entered the bar was almost deafening, and making others look your way. You were then showered with hugs, first by the girls and followed by Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua. Jeonghan had disappeared to the bar, leaving you to greet everyone.

“It’s been way to long,” Eunji couldn’t stop saying, hugging you for what felt like the nth time, “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… needed to be away.” You answered, when she finally let go of you for good, but that was because her fiancé, Vernon, had pulled her back to his side.

“No need to explain to us. We understand.” It was Vernon who spoke up, a finger wrapped through a hoop of Eunji’s pants, keeping her in place. “What matters is that you’re back.”

“And me missing you all matters too, ya know?” You pointed out with a teasing smile, when a cold glass of beer was pushed into your hands, making you look up to see Jeonghan had rejoined the group. He didn’t look at you, instead moving to Seungcheol and Joshua, leaving the others to surround you. Looking down at the beer, you hoped that your friends didn’t pick up the tension between you. Which by the silence and looks everyone was giving each other, you knew better.

You could see the way Eunji was about to open her mouth, only for her fiancé’s hand conveniently found its place over it. Minnie, who had been waiting for her moment to give you a proper hug, gave you a questioning gaze, while Seungcheol, Joshua, and Joshua’s wife looked at Jeonghan.

“I see one thing hasn’t changed,” Minnie had murmured into your ear, taking the beer so she could get an actual hug from you, “We are going to be talking about this.”

As the night went on, the tension between you and Jeonghan had loosened with him eventually finding his way back to your side. Arm thrown over your shoulder, like he hadn’t been giving you the cold shoulder since running from him and the kiss you shared, as he talked and laughed with everyone. Poking, teasing, and smiling at you like you hadn’t just rejected him in one of the worst ways possible.

It had helped you relax outwardly, joining in with the talking, teasing, even leaning into him and his touch. It was easy to do, even with the tension burning between you, it was easy to lean into his warmth like he would you. Except inwardly, you had a war raging on. One that involved the very man you were leaning into.

“I’m going for a cigarette.” Minnie announced, lifting Seungcheol’s hand off her knee to stand, grabbing her designer bag in the process, “Who’s coming with me?”

“I will,” Eunji practically jumped out of her seat, looking around the table for anyone else, both of them stopping briefly on you and Lily, Joshua’s wife. Subtly hinting that you were to join them.

“I have to pass. I been trying to quit, and don’t want to be tempted, sorry.” Lily answered, sipping at the bright blue cocktail she had ordered.

“Never apologize for that. You got more will power than I do,” Minnie waved her hand, her eyes going back to you, “Anyone else?”

“I’ll go,” You announce, standing with Jeonghan’s arm falling from your shoulder as you did. Making him look at you with a confused expression, “Just need a bit of fresh air. I’ll be back.”

You barely make it out of the bar before you were being cornered by the two women.

“Okay, spill.” Eunji demanded as Minnie pulled out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two and a lighter from the box. One for each woman.

“What are you talking about?” You attempted to feign ignorance, but it was clear the two didn’t buy it. The three of you were very close growing up, they witnessed how you and Jeonghan were, and still knew you better than you realized.

“Either one of three things is going on here. You two either have nothing to talk about, and it’s awkward as shit…” Minnie responded, placing the cigarette to her lips and lit it.

“Which is impossible with you two,” Eunji chimed in, taking the lighter from Minnie to light her own. “No matter how many years have passed.”

“You got into a stupid fight over something like the color of his socks, or…” Minnie walked closer, holding the cigarette out enough so the smoke wasn’t hitting your face, taking in how you crossed your arms and looked away. Leaning in, it felt like the last one was more of a secret, “Something happened between the two of you…”

“And you were the one to freak out.” Eunji finished for her, “And now it’s awkward.”

“Why would it be me?”

“Because it’s always you.” Vernon’s voice popped up behind you, causing the three of you to jump. He casually walks past you to Eunji, taking his cigarette in the process to take a drag, “I had a feeling they were doing that weird best friend gang up thing.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You answer, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.

“They kissed,” Vernon took another long drag of the nicotine stick, causing your jaw to drop opened, “Jeonghan told us in there.”

“Of course he did,” You muttered, watching the way Eunji and Minnie were ready to start jumping for joy.

“Finally?!” Eunji asked with excitement, but from the look on Vernon’s face, as well as yours, that Jeonghan didn’t stop there. Flicking the ash off the cigarette, the younger man took one more drag before handing it back to his fiancé.

“And that you freaked out and ran.”

“I didn’t run, I didn’t even leave the house.” You tried to defend yourself while your two friends excitement started to deflate.

“No, but you locked yourself in your room.” It was times like this that Vernon made you wonder how easy it was to get away with murder. Eunji will be able to find love again, she can move on, and you could disappear. Change your name, live in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere.

“Ugh,” Eunji let out a groan, dropping her head back and shoulders down in frustration. While Minnie could only stare at you, gaze unreadable as she pressed her cigarette to her lips, with one arm crossed her midsection.

“What?” You asked, your own frustration started to bubble over as it slowly started to occur to you that your friends knew something that you didn’t know. Something that Jeonghan clearly was aware of, but not you. Something about you and him. “I kissed him, yes. We were wrestling and it just happened, but it shouldn’t have. It just made things awkward and could just ruin our friendship.” You didn’t mention how much you wanted to do it again but couldn’t risk losing him for good. “What is with this ‘finally’ shit, anyways? Like shouldn’t you guys be worried that this could ruin our already fragile friendship.”

There was a silence as the three looked at each other. Like it dawned on them that you really didn’t know.

“You really don’t know?” It was Minnie who asked, taking another long drag as she moved her gaze to you again, followed by the couple behind her.

“Know what Min?” You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides, but there was something deep in you that told you that you already knew. Something that was sitting inside you for years, and you refused to acknowledge it, because it was easier than to face it.

There was a beat of silence between the four of them, with Eunji focused on her cigarette, Minnie watching you with an almost pitied look, and Vernon pushing his tongue into his cheek. Each of them waiting for the other to either come out with it, or for it to finally dawn on you. For you to finally see it.

“That he’s in love with you…” It was Vernon who said it, since neither of the girls spoke up, then his attention went to Minnie, “You think I can get my own smoke?”

You stood there in absolute silence while a pack of cigarettes exchanged hands, staring at your friends. It wasn’t that you had needed to process this, it wasn’t that at all. Instead, the words reached into your chest, into your heart and pulled out something you already known. Something he was trying to tell you, that he’s been trying to tell you.

“You guys are insane,” You finally spoke, looking away from them, pulling your cardigan around you when a cool breeze hit. “Jeonghan loves me, but he’s not in love with me.”

“Are you saying that to convince us, or convince yourself?” Minnie then asked, taking the pack back, her voice soft and understanding. You didn’t answer, still not looking at her, Vernon or Eunji, not trusting yourself to. “Did Jeonghan tell you what his parents condition was when they helped him buy that house?”

“No…” You had asked Jeonghan at least twice what this condition was, but he wouldn’t answer and would change the subject. Instead of pushing though, you just let him change it, so you didn’t have to actually hear it.

“The condition was that he settle downs like the rest of us,” She continued, and you could feel your mouth go dry, make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Unsure if it was from the alcohol, hearing all this, or both, “Or he would have to pay them back every penny.”

This made you look up to see her smiling at you, with it being as soft as her voice. Minnie flicked the ash off the near finished cigarette, your friends letting you take in what you were being told.

“What does that have to do with me, though?” You asked, feeling like you already knew the answer without it having to be said.

“Because.” Dropping the cigarette onto the ground, the taller woman hooked your arm with hers to walk back to the bar. Leaving Vernon and Eunji to finish their own smokes, “For him, the condition wasn’t just anyone, because to him, it only would be you.”

You’d barely made it back into the bar before Jeonghan had let out an overexaggerated yawn as he announced that he was going to order a ride home. This earned a chorus of groans from everyone, except for you. Your brain was already a buzz from the conversations outside, with the only thing you could do was stare at him. The bill of his hat pulled low, with it and his hair falling over his eyes. There was a deep frown playing over his lips, and body language reading that he no longer wanted to be there.

“You staying?” He asked you, making you blink out of your thoughts, already having his phone out to get a ride ordered. Several pairs of eyes turn to you, waiting for your response. Minnie had found her place back next to Seungcheol, leaning into her boyfriend, watching you with a knowing gaze.

Telling you to go with him.

“Nah, I’m getting tired myself.” You answered, letting out a chuckle, “I honestly am surprised I managed as long as I have. I’ve traded a night out at the bar with a bottle of wine at home, and most times in bed.”

Jeonghan nodded, already having the ride ordered, and the group advanced on you. Hugging you tightly, telling you to keep in touch, and to visit more often. With Minnie hugging you a little longer than everyone.

“Call me tomorrow, okay?” She whispered in your ear, “If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

Neither of you said anything on the ride back to Jeonghan’s, but this time the silence felt different. It wasn’t tense like it was on the way to the bar, it had shifted after being out for a few hours to something that you had a hard time describing. His tired silence, leaning back in the seat with his eyes out the window, watching everything pass by. One hand resting against his head while the other rested between you both.

Beckoning you to take it.

Except you didn’t, with your own gaze looking out the car window as well. Vernon and Minnie’s words heavy in your head.

“He’s in love with you.”

“…because to him, it only would be you.”

“If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

They left you with one of two choices by doing this. Finally face what was always between you and talk to Jeonghan, or you run away again. Get the earliest flight you can and leave before Jeonghan could wake up. Continue to run away. Destroy a lifelong friendship, one that you were meant to reconnect during your stay, because you were the coward.

You needed to make a choice. You needed to make one then.

“I’m going to head to bed, I am pretty tired,” Jeonghan announced once back, making sure the door was locked behind you before flicking his gaze to you. Taking you in, while he forced a smile to his lips and another beat of silence followed.

He was waiting for you to say something, anything. It was your chance, you either faced it or you ran away, but words failed you. They failed you in a way that never happened before with him, and it scared you.

“Goodnight, bug.” He whispered finally turning toward his room, nodding his head like he received his answer again. An answer to a question or a confession that he never said out loud.

It suddenly infuriated you.

“Are you in love with me?” You blurted out, causing Jeonghan to stop only a few steps away, watching the way his back straightened at the question. The accusation.

“Yes, I am.” He answered without hesitation, turning to look at you. That forced smile turning into a sardonic smirk when your eyes widened at how easy it was for him to say it, “I am in love with you.”

“For how long?”

“Does it matter?” The question as simple.

“Yes…no…just tell me.” You let out a frustrated sigh, shoulders dropping as you do.

“I’ve loved you since we were children, even when you would pull my hair,” He let out a chuckle, crossing his arms, “But realized I was in love with you when I had to watch you board that plane for school.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was easier to watch you go not knowing than if you did.” Jeonghan’s voice was low, the words stripping everything away that he hid behind, letting you see the raw side of him. And he still held eye contact with you.

“And the condition with your parents…”

“I had no intention fulfilling it if it wasn’t going to be you.” You noticed that he had started to close the distance that as originally there, pulling off his cap in the process so you could see his face better. Looking at you in a way he never had before, or that you noticed.

“Why?”

“Because no matter how I pictured my future, when it came to who I would spend my life with…” Jeonghan was now in front of you, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. His hand ghosting over your cheek. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to move, you were scared to move, “It’s always you. It’s always been you.”

“Jeonghan…” His name came out in a whisper, tears starting to fall down your cheek and that was when you felt the coolness of his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb wiping away a few away. “You’re an asshole.”

A soft laugh left him, dropping his hand and taking a step back. Taking your comment as a rejection, but it wasn’t. It was far from it. You finally found a name to what that missing piece was when it came to Jeonghan. Your best friend, the boy who would be waiting for you in that run down shed every day, the teen who would get in trouble with you, the young man who let you go even though there was an ache in both your chests, and the man standing before you.

All these versions of him were one thing to you. Your Jeonghan.

“You’re an asshole for not telling me sooner…” You pouted, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to stop him, refusing to look away from him. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan countered back, inching closer to you, his eyes flicking to your mouth.

“Yeah.”

He then kissed you, heated and hungry, like something inside him snapped; unable to hold back any longer. He had a taste of you earlier, and now that he had you again, he couldn’t keep pretending. You returned the kiss with a fever, gripping at the sleeves of his shirt because if you didn’t, he’d disappear.

His hand finding their place at your hips, squeezing them when you deepened the kiss, greedy to taste him again like you had earlier. This time with the notes of beer still lingering, but you were sure you were just the same. Releasing the sleeves of his shirt, you traced them over your shoulders and up his neck, earning a low groan from him when you gripped at the soft strands of his hair.

Hearing this sound sent a wave of heat down your belly, right to your core, your thighs squeezing slightly and enough for Jeonghan to notice. Making him pull away from your lips, reluctantly since he attempted to dive back in to reclaim them, only to stop himself.

“You’ll need to stop me now, because I have no intentions on it.” He said softly, willing to step away if you didn’t want to. You laugh pushing him toward his bedroom, tripping over each other and pulling off clothes in the process. With your bra and top gone before you made it through his bedroom door.

His shirt following quickly after, giving way to a lean frame with smooth undefined muscles, but you could feel them under your touch. Your cargos off next, leaving you in a pair of grey lace underwear, and Jeonghan had twisted you so the he was the one guiding you to his bed. His mouth claiming yours right as you felt his bed hit the back of your knees, making you drop down onto it.

Looking up to see Jeonghan standing before you, his eyes roaming from your own down your body before returning to them. His expression one of disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were on his bed, half naked. And just for him.

“Hanni…” Anything you had to say was stopped by his kiss, more heated than any of the others you had shared.

Your hands and mouths touching and kissing anywhere and everywhere you could. His mouth teasing your breasts, sucking at the hardened peaks, while your hands ran over his body. Feeling his hardened cock over his pants before they too were gone. Followed by his boxers, and then your underwear.

“Fuck…your mouth is heaven,” He moaned out when you took his cock into your mouth, swallowing him down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him. With a few expert movements, Jeonghan had to pull back to stop from cumming down your throat and ending it all too soon. “We are going to have to revisit this later.”

“But…” Your words were swallowed up by his kiss, tongue claiming yours, pushing your back against the bed, his hips pushing your legs apart. Moaning at the feeling of his saliva slicked cock pressing against your own soaked cunt, rolling your hips up against his. Needing more of him.

When you felt two fingers tweak at one of your nipples, you roll him onto his back, straddling him. Grinding down onto him while one of your hands slip between you to grip his cock. With a gentle squeeze, Jeonghan broke from the kiss to drop his head back with a groan, moving both hands to your hips. The head of his cock catching at your entrance, making you both gasp.

Then you sank down onto him, a silent cry leaving you while Jeonghan’s eyes rolled at the way he stretched your gripping walls, until you were completely onto him. Only you didn’t stay there long, not giving either of you the chance to adjust before you were moving. Planting your hands onto the bed, you lift your hips off him, leaving only the head of his cock in you before dropping down.

Jeonghan’s hands gripped onto your hips, his eyes glazed over from arousal and the sight of you. Seeing parts of you that he only imagined, your bare breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips, your mouth falling open in pleasure, right down to where your two were now connected. The feeling of your walls squeezing and gripping at him was better than any late night thoughts could compare.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he also didn’t want this to ever end. There was no way he could ever go back after this, he wouldn’t be able to go back to anything with you that didn’t involve this. Didn’t involve you being his.

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, grinding down onto him to get more friction, feeling yourself winding tighter. The knot deep in your core threatening to snap. Then one of his hands slide from your hip to between your legs, pushing his finger up to tease your clit. “I’m close…”

“Do it, baby. Don’t hold back.” He tried to play it cool with a smirk, but he was just as much of a whimpering mess like you are. Looking up at you like you were the only thing that ever mattered. You were the only thing that ever mattered to him.

“Shit, Shit…” You chanted, every muscle tightening as you came, “I love you, I love you.”

Then you were on your back, Jeonghan rolling you over without pulling out, taking over for you. Fucking into you with a vigor you never experienced from him.

“I love you…” He whispered into your mouth, cupping your face, his own release following quickly after. Neither of you moved, staying connected as you came down from your highs, with him now pulling back to look at you. Your well kissed lips, your hair a mess from running your fingers through it, and your still glazed over eyes. A scene that made him fall even more in love. “Please don’t leave… stay… I can’t let you go again.”

“Jeonghan…” You sigh, closing your eyes as you attempted to slip off him. Oversensitivity starting to take over, but he kept you there on top of him. “I have to though…” That was when you felt his hands loosen on your hips, and the look on his face nearly broke you, but still a small smile graced your lips, “I mean… If I plan to move back, I got to get everything in order…”

“No you don’t,” He pouted, and you leaned forward to kiss him. Soft, promising. “You can just start back over here… I am not letting you go.”

“Then I guess we need to buy you a plane ticket then.” You tease, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face that you’ve loved for years. “Cause I do have to go back.”

“We’ll see about that,” He smirked, making you laugh. “I love you. Always you.”

Thank you so much for reading I seriously hope you all enjoyed this!

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to know I am doing well!

You wanted this spring to be your new beginning, but you didn’t know it was going to be with your best friend's brother Soonyoung.

“Ryujin hurry up, we’re going to be late for the cherry blossom festival.”

You yelled from the bottom steps hearing the sound of a door and knew she was about to appear. “What I had to make sure I looked perfect.” You let out a small laugh and responded. “Perfect? Latte is the only one that gives you attention.” Ryujin looked at you in shock. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” She grabbed her bag and you both walked out the door.

The streets were already dancing with different shades of pink by the time you both arrived. Petals dancing in the air like a practiced ease, catching in your hair and sleeves. “See? We’re not late,” Ryujin said proudly, slapping your shoulder as she searched the crowd. “If anything we’re fashionably early.”

“That doesn’t even exist." you muttered but smiled anyway. There was something about this season that made everything feel possible. New. Like the world was holding its breath. Ryujin stopped suddenly. “Oh there he is.” You followed her gaze at first expecting a friend, maybe someone you went to school with. But then your eyes landed on him and everything else blurred in the background.

He stood under a cherry blossom tree, one hand in his pocket the other holding a drink he forgot about. Petals clung to his dark hair soft against the sunlight like he was sent from heaven. “Y/N that’s my brother…Soonyoung!” Ryujin yelled, waving. Your heart jumped.

Brother?

He looked up at the sound of her voice, his eyes looking then landing on you. And stopping. For just a second it felt like the world tilted. Like he noticed it too. Ryujin grabbed your wrist, pulling you forward. “Why are you walking so slow? Come on!”

“I didn’t know your brother was coming,” you said, trying to sound normal and ignore the way your chest tightened for no reason.

“I didn’t tell you? Oh, yeah he’s back for a bit.”

“For a bit?” You repeated.

“Yeah…before he has to enlist.”

The words settled heavier than they should’ve. Before you could ask anything else, you were suddenly standing in front of him. Up close he was warmer. Real. His chocolate brown eyes held something soft, something curious as if he was trying to figure you out. “Soonyoung, this is Y/N my best friend,” Ryujin said. There was a pause then he smiled. Not polite. Not distant. But something easy, something that reached his tiger like eyes.

“Best friend?” He repeated, glancing between you and Ryujin before looking back at you. “Then I guess I should’ve met you sooner.” Your breath caught. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out at first. Because all you could think was why does this feel like something important? “Yeah…maybe we should have.” You finally said quieter than you meant to.

A petal landed on his shoulder, neither of you looking away. And somewhere in the middle of laughter, spring air and falling blossoms something began.

Even if time was already running out.

It happened without you realizing. One second Ryujin was beside you talking and laughing, taking you from place to place. The next… “She ran off to find a friend,” Soonyoung said, glancing over his shoulder like he was surprised. “Said she’d be back.” You blinked. “She…left me?” He huffed out a quiet laugh. “She left us.” The word us lingered longer than it should have.

For a moment neither of you moved. The noise of the festival carried on around you: voices, music, distant laughter but it all felt far away. Like the world had stepped back and left the two of you standing in something softer.

“So…” he started shifting his weight slightly. “How long have you known my annoying sister?”

“Forever,” you said with a small smile. “She kind of just decided we were best friends one day.”

“That sounds like her.”

You both laughed like this wasn’t the first conversation, like it wasn’t supposed to be. A breeze passed, shaking the branches from the cherry blossom trees, causing petals to fall between you catching in your hair. He noticed. “Hold on,” he said gently. Your breath hitched as he stepped closer. His fingers hovered near your hair like he was giving you time to pull away but you didn’t. Soonyoung brushed a petal free. That should have been nothing, but it wasn’t.

“Spring suits you,” he quietly said. Your heart betrayed you. “That’s a weird thing to say,” but there was no bite to it. He smiled, making him look like a hamster. “Yeah. It is.” Silence fell between you, but it wasn’t awkward. Like there were too many things sitting just beneath the surface.

You looked away “Ryujin said you just got back?”

“Mm.” He nodded. “Not for long though.”

There it was again, that weight. You forced yourself to ask, but part of you didn’t want to hear it. “She said something about…enlistment?” His expression changed slightly. “Yeah soon.”

Soon. The words echoed in your chest in a way that didn’t make sense. You had just met him. Just met him. Why did it feel like something was slipping through your fingers? “Oh,” you spoke softly. He watched you for a moment and really watched you. “You look more disappointed than my own sister when she found out,” he said, half teasing and half something else. You let out a small breath. “I just…” you stopped yourself.

What are you even saying?

“I mean it’s a big deal,” you quickly corrected. He tilted his head slightly, but he didn’t fully believe you and didn’t push. Instead he glanced toward a quieter path lined with trees just beyond the crowd. “Do you want to walk?” He asked shyly. “It’s less hectic over there.” You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to but because you did.

You nodded.

The two of you drifted away from the festival into a space where the petals covered the ground like a blanket. The air felt calmer, quieter…more intimate. For a while you walked side by side without talking. Your hands brushed once. Then again. Neither of moved away.

“I feel like I should say something meaningful,” he suddenly admitted with a laugh escaping him.

“Since it feels like one of those moments.”

You smiled. “And?”

“And I’ve got nothing.”

That made you laugh, really laugh this time. He glanced at you like he was trying to memorize the sound. “I’m glad it’s you,” he said under his breath. You turned to him. “What?” He shook his head quickly. “Nothing. Just” he exhaled then met your eyes again. “I’m glad Ryujin left you with me.” Your heart stopped. But this didn’t feel like a coincidence anymore. “I think she did it on purpose,” you said. “Oh. Definitely.” You both smiled.

And as the petals continued to fall around you, the distance between your hands disappeared. You realized something quietly terrifying. This wasn’t just a moment. This is the beginning of something you wouldn’t forget. Even if you didn’t have much time.

That night, sleep didn’t come easy. You told yourself it was because of the festival, the noise, the walking the way your legs ached from being on them all day. But it wasn’t. It was him.

The way his voice softened when it was just the two of you. The way his soft hands brushed yours like it meant something. The way soon echoed in your chest like a countdown you never agreed to do.

You turned onto your side staring at your phone screen glowing in the dark. This was ridiculous. You only known him for a few hours. A few hours shouldn’t feel like this.

Your phone buzzed causing your heart to jump. Unknown number. You stared at it for a second before opening the message.

Unknown: You’re probably asleep. Ryujin gave me your number…hope that's okay.

Your breath caught. You sat up immediately.

You: I’m not asleep

Three dots appear almost instantly. You couldn’t help the small smile forming. When you saw Ryujin’s name mentioned you knew who it was and saved his number.

Soonyoung: I was hoping you’d say that

You chewed on your lip longer than necessary while looking at the screen.

You: Couldn’t sleep?

Soonyoung: Yea. It felt like today would just end if I slept.

Your chest tightened. Because you understood what he meant.

You: It was just a festival

You didn’t mean for it to sound like that. Distant. Safe. A few seconds passed. Your phone started ringing. You froze. His name lit up on your screen. You answered “Hello?” There was a careful pause on the other end. Like he was trying to make sure you were really there. “Hi” his voice was quieter, softer like it belonged to the night. Something in your chest folded. “Hi,” you repeated just as quietly. Then a small exhale almost like a laugh. “I didn’t like how that message sounded,” he admitted. “The just a festival part.” You closed your eyes embarrassed “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” he cut in. “You’re trying to make it smaller.” He was right. “I just don't…” you hesitated trying to search for the words. “I don’t understand why today felt like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it mattered.”

There was silence but it wasn’t empty. It was full, heavy, honest.

“Yeah me too,” he softly said.

Your grip on your phone tightened slightly. “I’ve met a lot of people,” he continued. “But today was the first time I kept thinking…” he stopped. Your heart was stuck in your throat. “Thinking what?” You whispered. There was another pause, longer this time. Then quiet. “Thinking I didn’t have enough time.” The words settled between you like something fragile, something dangerous. Your voice came out softer than expected. “But you just met me.”

“I know.”

“Then why does it feel like you're leaving something behind already?” He let out a breath, like that question hit deeper than he expected. “I was hoping you’d tell me.” You laugh weakly trying to shake off the weight of it. “That’s not fair.”

“I know,” he said again. There was a shift to something more vulnerable. “I almost said something earlier,” he admitted. Your heart stopped. “When we were walking.”

You swallowed. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I don’t trust anything that happens this fast.” That hurt more than it should have. “But I don’t think that means it's not real.” Your breath caught. “Sometimes it means you don't have to ignore it.” Silence filled the space again but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was warm. Terrifying. Real. You shifted pulling your blanket closer around you.

“I think I would’ve listened,” you said quietly.

“To what?”

“To whatever you almost said.” He didn’t respond right away. But when he did his voice was barely above a whisper. “Then I’ll say it before I leave.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Leave… leave?”

“Before enlistment.” Oh that the thing you were trying not to think about. “Okay,” you said even though the word felt too small for everything you were feeling there was another quiet pause. Neither of you hung up but neither of you wanted to.

“Are you still there?” He asked after a while.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

You smiled into the darkness and for the first time that night you didn’t feel like sleep was something you needed to run from. Somehow in the quiet of the late night call you had found something you weren’t ready to lose.

The calls didn’t stop after that night. At first it was before bed. Then turned into random moments walking home, sitting in silence even just hearing each other breathe like that was enough. The days blurred together faster than they should have. Spring didn’t feel endless anymore.

It felt borrowed.

“You’re smiling at your phone again.” You looked at Ryujin leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed with a knowing look on her face. “I am not.”

“You are,” she said immediately. “And it's my brother so don’t even try to lie about it.” Your silence gave you away. Her expression shifted not teasing but more serious. “You know he leaves in two weeks, right?” Two weeks. Your stomach dropped. “Yeah,” you quietly said. Ryujin looked at you for a second longer, then sighed softer this time. “Just don’t get hurt, okay?” You forced a smile. Too late.

That night he didn’t text, he called. “Hey,” you said, trying to sound normal. “Come outside.” You blinked. “What?” “I’m outside.” Your heart stopped. You rushed to your window, pulling the curtain back and he was there.

Standing under the dim glow of the streetlight, hands shoved into his tiger striped hoodie pocket like he wasn’t currently rearranging your entire world. You didn’t even think about it, you just ran outside. “What are you doing here?” You asked breathlessly. He looked at you like he’d been waiting longer than just a few minutes.

“I didn’t want to talk on the phone tonight.”

“That’s not an answer.” He stepped closer.

“I needed to see you.” Your heart slammed against your ribs. “That’s also not an answer,” you whispered softly. He let out a quiet breath, running a hand through his hair. “I leave in two weeks,” he said. You flinched. “I know.” “And I don’t want to waste time pretending this is nothing.” There was no build up, no safety, just the truth. Your chest tightened.

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m…I’m saying,” he stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, “I think about you all the time.” Your breath caught. “I think about things I shouldn’t be thinking about when I just met you,” he continues. “Like what it would be like if I met you earlier. Or later. Or at a time where I didn’t have a deadline hanging over my head.” Your voice came out but it was barely there. “Soonyoung…”

“I tried to slow it down,” he admitted. “I told myself it’s just timing, just a moment, just spring…” His gaze locked onto yours. “But it’s not.” It was silent after it was your turn and there was no way out of it because you felt it too. “I don’t want to slow it down,” your voice shaking. “I don’t care if it’s too fast.” Something in his expression broke open at that. “Seriously?” You nodded. That was all it took for him to close the distance. He didn’t rush, wasn't hesitant, it was inevitable. His hand found yours first, fingers threading together like they belonged. Then his forehead rested on yours. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured. You didn’t. So he kissed you soft, careful like he was holding onto something fragile. But underneath it everything you hadn’t said everything you didn’t have time for. When he pulled back neither of you moved far. “This was a bad idea.” You whispered. “Probably,” he said. You tightened your grip on his hand. “Do it again.” And he did. But now the countdown begins.

14 Days Before He Leaves

It starts like it's nothing.

“Coffee?” He texts. You say yes too quickly.

The cafe is quiet, tucked between blooming trees, sunlight coming through the windows in soft patches. You sit across from each other at first. Keeping at a safe distance and safe conversation.

Until it isn’t.

You end up side by side, sharing a table too small for the space you’re pretending to keep. “You don’t like sweet drinks,” he says, watching your expression after your first sip. You glance at him. “You noticed that already?”

“I notice everything you do.”

You laugh it off but later, walking home you realize you didn’t correct him.

12 Days Before

It was supposed to be a short walk. Just around the park to get some air. But time stretches in strange ways when you’re with him. You talk about small things, childhood stories, favorite songs, things that don’t matter. Except they do because they’re yours.

At some point your hands brush. You pull back instinctively. He doesn’t. The second time it happens, he lets his fingers stay just lightly against yours. It seemed almost like a question. You answer by not moving away. By the end of the walk your fingers are fully intertwined. Neither of you remembers exactly when it happened.

10 Days Before

You stop being surprised when he shows up. A soft knock. A familiar silhouette through the window. You opened the door before he could knock again.

“You didn’t text,” you say. “You didn’t need me to.” You don’t argue. You just step aside and let him in like he belongs there. Later you realize that scares you more than anything else.

9 Days Before

The calls get longer. Not just late at night anymore. Midday. Early morning. Random. It’s like the silence feels wrong now.

That night you fall asleep with the phone still pressed to your ear. The quiet is so comfortable.

Safe.

When you wake up hours later your room is dark. Your phone is still warm in your hand. “Soonyoung?” You whisper. His voice raspy from sleep. “Yeah. I’m here.” Your chest tightens.

“You didn’t hang up?”

“Didn’t want to.”

You turn onto your side, clutching the phone a little closer. “Go to sleep,” you murmur. “You first.” You smile, eyes closing again. Neither of you listen.

7 Days Before

One week.

The number sits heavy between you now. You feel it in everything. The way his gaze lingers a second longer than before. They way your conversations go into silence more often, not empty but full. Like there’s too much to say and not enough time to say it. You catch him staring not casually, not teasing but like he’s studying you. More like memorizing.

“What?” You asked, laughing.

“Nothing,” he says.

But he doesn't look away.

6 Days Before

Ryujin notices she always does.

“You two are being weird," she says, dropping onto the couch beside you. You stiffen. “We’re not…”

“Soonyoung,” she interrupts, not even looking at you, “You’ve been staring at her for the last five minutes.”

“I haven’t.”

“You have.”

It goes quiet. You glance at him and he’s still looking at you. This time he doesn’t deny it. Ryujin exhales sharply. “This is exactly what I didn’t want.” Your stomach twists but you don’t stop. Neither of you do.

5 Days Before

It's raining, not drizzling but heavy rain.The kind that could soak through everything if you're not careful. You end up stuck together under a narrow canopy, bodies pressed close, the scent of the rain and spring wrapping around you.

Water drips steadily from the edge, forming a curtain between you and the rest of the world. “This feels like a cliché,” you say quietly. He glances at you. “You don't like clichés?”

“I think they exist for a reason.”

“And what’s that?”

You hesitate. “…To warn people.”

He watches you carefully now. “About what?”

“That it doesn’t last long.”

The words hang there heavy and honest. For a second, you think he’ll argue. Instead he steps closer. Close enough that your breath catches. “Then let’s not think about after,” he says softly. Your heart aches. Because you know exactly what he’s doing because you’re doing it too.

“…Okay.”

3 Days Before

You start collecting pieces of him without meaning to. The way he taps his finger when he’s thinking. The way his eyes brighten when he gets excited. The way he says your name is slower now softer. The way his hand automatically finds yours, like its habit instead of a choice.

You wonder when it became a habit.

You wonder when he did.

2 Days Before

Everything feels fragile like one wrong word could break it. You sit beside each other in silence more often now. Not because there was nothing to say but because saying it would make it real. You catch him looking at you again.

The same look.

You finally ask. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?“

“Looking at me like that.”

He hesitates. And that when you know the answer matters. “Like I’m trying to remember you.” Your chest tightens so much that it hurts. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say automatically. But the second it leaves your mouth you realize how untrue it sounds.

Because he is.

And you can’t follow.

1 Day Before

Everything slows down, conversations stretch, touches linger, even the silence feels heavy. You don’t let go of his hand first anymore. He doesn't either. That night, on the phone— “I don’t regret this,” he says. His voice is quieter than usual. Serious. “Me neither.” There was a pause. “That almost makes it worse.” You swallow hard string at the ceiling. “Yeah.” Because if this was a mistake it would be easier to leave behind.

The Day Before He Leaves

Spring is at its peak. Cherry blossoms are everywhere like the same day you met. Time is looping like nothing has changed except everything has. And standing there with him you finally feel it.

Not just the beginning but the end right behind it.

Spring shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t feel heavy, but it does.

The air is soft, warm, petals drifting like nothing is wrong like this isn’t the last time. You see him before he sees you. Standing there with a tiger stripes bag slung over his shoulder, hand in his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do.

For a second you don’t move because walking toward him makes it real. He looks up and finds you instantly like he always does. Everything in you pulls forward.

“Hey.”

It's quiet, too quiet for a goodbye.

“Hey.”

You stop in front of him, you were close to him but not close enough. There’s a space between you that didn’t exist before and it scared you. Neither of you closes it. Not yet.

“You came.” He says.

You almost laugh. “Of course I did.”

You were shocked that he even asked that. A small smile tugs at his lips, but it didn’t last long. There was awkward silence which was unfamiliar to you both.

This is the first time you don’t know what to say.

“I didn’t sleep,” he admits suddenly.

You look at him. “Me neither.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was another pause. He nods slowly, like he expected that like it matters more than it should. “I hate this ,” you say before you could stop yourself. Your honesty surprises him. “Yeah,” he exhales. “Me too.”

“I thought I’d be better at it,” you admit your voice almost silent. “At keeping things normal.” He lets out a small, almost humorless laugh. “I didn’t even try.” That pulls something fragile between you. Something almost light. Almost enough.

A petal lands on your shoulder. You both notice at the same time. For the second it feels like the first day again like you could rewind like you could pretend this isn’t the end.

He lifts his hand then stops just short of you. Your breath catches because you see it the hesitation. The choice. Slowly he let his hand fall back to his side.

“You should…” you start, then stop.

What? Go? Stay? Don’t leave?

None of it feels right. “I should what?” He ask gently. Your throat tightens. “Be careful,” you settle on. It sounds small. Too small. But was all you could manage.

He nods. “I will.” There was another silence. This one was heavier like it’s pressing down on both of you. “I was going to say something,” he says suddenly. Your heart stutters.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to figure out how it ay it for days.” Your chest tightens painfully. “Then…say it.” It comes out softer than intended. Hopeful. Dangerous. He looks at you really looks at you and for a second you think he will.

You see it in the way his expression shifts. They way his lips part slightly. The way his hand almost reaches for yours again.

“I-” He stops. The words hang there unfinished. Everything you’ve both been avoiding, sitting right between you. Your breath catches. “…You what?” You whisper. He exhales, shaking his head just slightly like pulling himself back. Like he’s choosing something else. “…I’m really glad I met you.” Your heart drops. Not because it true but because it’s not what he was going to say.

You know it.

He knows it.

And now it’s gone.

“Me too,” you say even though your voice feels unsteady. Even though it feels like you just lost something without ever having it.

“I should go.”

The words hit harder than anything else. You nod because if you speak, you might ask him not to, and you don’t know what he would do if you did. He steps closer this time he doesn’t hesitate. His hand finds your fingers wrapping around like they’ve done a hundred times before. Like they belong there. He squeezes gently and you hold on tighter just for a second just a little longer than you should.

“Take care of yourself,” he says.

“You too.”

Neither of you lets go. Not yet. Not until the moment stretches too thin and finally he pulls away. He takes a step back then another. You watch him the whole time like if you look away, he’ll disappear faster.

Halfway across the distance, he stops turns back for a second it feels like he might come back. Like he might say it. Like he might fix it. “I-“ Again. The same start the same almost. Your heart leaps but this time he just smiles. Soft. A little sad. “…Bye.” And then he turns and keeps walking.

You don’t realize you’re crying until your vision blurs. Until the pink of the blossoms melts into something you can’t quite see anymore. Until he’s gone. And the worst part? It’s not that he left. It’s not even that it hurts. It’s that you know you both felt it and neither of you said it.

Spring keeps going like nothing happened. Like you didn’t stand there and watch something begin and end at th e same time. You still meet Ryujin. Still sit in the same places, still pass the same trees but everything feels…off.

Quieter.

Like something is missing, and no one is saying it out loud.

“You’re worse than I expected.” You glance up from your drink. Ryujin is watching you, arms crossed expression softer than usual. “Thanks I’m fine,” you say automatically. She raises an eyebrow. “You’ve stirred that for five minutes.” You stop. Didn’t even realize.

“I just didn’t sleep well,” you tried to say.

“Mm.” She doesn’t believe you. Not even a little. “Funny. Neither did he before he left.” Your finger tighten slightly around the cup. You don’t respond. Ryujin relaxes, leaning back in her chair. “He was weird, you know.” That gets your attention. “Weird how?” She tilts her head, like she’s deciding how much to say.

“Soonyoung usual has a lot of energy, but he was quiet, distracted. Which is not him.” She paused. “He kept picking up his phone and putting it down and picking it back up again.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster.

“Why?”

She gives you look. “You really have to ask?”

You look away.

“He almost didn’t leave when he was supposed to come see you,” she continues, more quietly now. Your breath catches.

“What?”

“He was late coming home the night before. I asked him where he was and he just said…” she trails off, thinking. “He said he needed to figure out if saying something would make it harder or easier.” Your chest tightens painfully because you know exactly what that means.

You swallow. “Did he… say what it was?” Ryujin hesitates. And that hesitation tells you everything. “Ryujin.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know if I should… it’s not my place to tell you.”

“Please.” Your voice breaks. And that's what makes her give in. “He asked me something,” she says slowly.

“What?”

“He asked…” She looks at you then away. “… if I thought you felt the same.” Your heart stutters.

“What did you say?”

“I told him I wasn’t blind.” Despite everything a small broken laugh slips out of you.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It was enough for him,” she says softly. Silence falls heavy. Like you were waiting for something. “And then?” You ask barely above a whisper. Ryujin presses her lips together. “He said…” she starts then pauses again. Your chest feels tight. “Ryujin.” She looks at you. Really looks at you. “He said he was going to tell you he loved you.”

The world stops.

You didn’t react right away. You were trying to process the words as they echo and repeat. Settling slowly, painfully into every space you left open.

“…What?” You said shocked.

“He didn’t tell you?” Ryujin asks, already knowing the answer. You shake your head. Slowly.

“He almost did,” she continues quietly. “He practiced it, actually. I heard him.” A small sad smile. “Which is…embarrassing because he never does that.” Your chest aches. “He kept saying your name first.” She adds. “Like he thought that would make it easier.” You press your lips together, trying to steady your breathing.

It doesn’t work.

“Why didn’t he?” You ask even though part of you is scared of the answer. Ryujin doesn’t hesitate this time. “Because he thought it would be selfish.” That hits harder than anything else. “He said if he told you,” she continues, “it would make it even harder for you to let him go. And he didn’t want to leave you with something that heavy when he couldn’t stay.”

Your eyes sting because that sounds exactly like him.

“He also said…” Ryujin adds, more softly now, “that if you said it back he didn’t think he’d be able to walk away.” Your breath catches. And suddenly that moment comes rushing back. The way he stopped. The way he almost said something. The way he chose not to.

“I’ve would have said it,” you whisper. The words slip out before you can stop them. Ryujin expression softens. “I know.”

Silence settles again. But it's different now not empty, not confusing. Just… full of something unfinished. You look down at your hands at the space where his hands used to be. At everything that almost was. And somehow knowing makes it hurt more. But it also makes it clearer because now you understand it wasn’t just a moment, it wasn’t just spring, it wasn’t just small.

It was real.

And even though he didn’t say it he meant it.

You wrote him a letter to tell him how you feel but were too scared to send it. Not wanting to cause him anymore pain.

I don’t know how to start this.

I’ve rewritten the first line so many times that it doesn’t even feel real anymore. Each version sounds either too small for what I should feel or too big for something I never got to say out loud.

But I guess that’s the problem, isn’t it?

We never said it.

Not really.

I keep thinking about that day. The way you looked at me like you didn’t want to let go. The way you stopped and said “I-“ like you were about to give me something I’ve been trying not to name ever since.

I think I knew.

I think I knew what you were going to say before you even said it. And I didn’t stop you. I didn’t make it easier either. I just stood there and let you decide for the both of us.

Ryujin told me.

She told me what you were going to say. I wish she hadn’t. No that’s that a lie. I’m glad she did. Because at least now I know I didn’t imagine it. I didn’t make it bigger than it was. It was something. It was real.

You loved me.

I’m still trying to understand how that happened so fast. How someone I met under cherry blossoms somehow became some I think about everyday like they’ve always been there.

It doesn’t make sense, but it also doesn’t feel like a mistake. That’s the worst part. If it was a mistake, I could let it go easier. If the timing was just different, I could blame it on something else. But it wasn’t just timing was it?

It was you.

It was me.

It was every moment we didn’t question enough because we didn’t have time to. You said you didn’t want to be selfish. That you didn’t want to leave me with something heavy. But you did. Just differently.

Because I’m still here sitting with words you never said and feelings I never got to return. And I would have. I need you know that even if you never read this. I would have said it back. Not hesitantly. Not eventually. But right there.

I think that's what hurts the most. Not that you loved me but that you didn’t let me love you the same way out loud where you could hear it. I keep wondering if you knew.

I feel paused. Like something started and never finished like I’m standing there waiting for you to finish that sentence. “I-“ That’s where everything stopped. And I don’t know how to move on from something that never actually ended.

I hope you’re okay.

I hope you’re eating properly, sleeping when you can, not overthinking things the way you do when you get quiet. I hope you’re not pretending you’re fine when you’re not.

I hope… you remember me. Not just as something temporary, not just as spring. But as something that mattered. More than I was ready for. More than I knew what to do with. And even if you wonder even for a second what I would have said if you’d finished that sentence….

I loved you too.

As you finished writing the letter you had tears streaming down your face. You whispered in the dark “Until we meet again.”

Spring slipped quietly into your town, never making a fuss. No dramatic downpours, no sudden heat waves—just little shifts no one really noticed. Plum blossoms by the river showing up overnight. Laundry drying faster in weak sunlight. The old florist rolling out buckets of tulips before anyone else was awake. The air full of green scents and muddy earth, like everything was stretching out after being curled up too long.

And then, there was him.

Kim Mingyu drifted back with spring every year, as if he migrated with the birds. Always silent, always sure, always somehow surprising even when you expected him.

It happened every spring.

Since you were sixteen, without fail.

The very first time, he was standing under the cherry blossom tree behind the school. Petals spotted his hair, pale against the darkness, and he looked strange in the prettiest way—too tall, too perfect, too much like someone who’d been dropped in from a better place.

You’d asked what class he was in.

He just smiled. “I’m just here for spring.”

Back then, you thought he was flirting. The next year, when summer came and he disappeared, you figured he had moved away without a word. But at eighteen, when he reappeared exactly when the first flowers bloomed, matching smile and all, smelling like rain and grass, things didn’t add up.

Wrong, or miraculous. You never worked it out.

But this year, spring dragged its feet.

March hung on and hung on, cold and sharp, and you started to wonder if Mingyu would show up at all this time.

You hated how much that worried you.

You were twenty-two now, old enough to know better than to wait around for someone who vanished every year. Old enough to know folks who love you stick around.

Not that Mingyu ever promised love.

He only promised spring.

Somehow, that was even harder to swallow.

You stood outside the bookstore where you worked, holding a nearly-cold coffee, staring across at the naked branches of the cherry tree.

Nothing. No blooms, no Mingyu.

Hana, your coworker, knocked her shoulder against yours. “You’re doing it again.”

You squinted at her. “Doing what?”

“Looking like someone out of an old black-and-white film. A widow, or something.”

“Please.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not that dramatic.”

“Sure,” she said with a grin. “Waiting for your seasonal boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Of course. Your annual hallucination, then.”

You tried to glare at her, but, honestly, you’d asked yourself the same thing more than once.

No one else seemed to know Mingyu, not really. People saw him around—a guy buying strawberries, walking by the river, sitting under branches heavy with flowers—but no one ever seemed to care where he came from or spent his nights.

Except you.

Whenever you asked him, Mingyu just looked at you with those impossibly gentle eyes and said, “If I tell you, you might stop waiting for me.”

It drove you crazy. But it worked, every time.

Hana sighed, over the top as usual. “You know, most people date year-round.”

“Good for them.”

“You vanish emotionally for three months straight.”

“That’s not—” You stopped. “Alright, maybe a little.”

She raised her eyebrows. “A lot.”

You were about to clap back when the breeze shifted.

Warm. Sweet. Carrying the unmistakable scent—flowers, sun, green things.

You stopped breathing for a second.

Across the street, the first cherry blossom petal dropped from the branch.

Then a second. Then a spray of them, as if the tree were suddenly waking up after a long nap.

Hana stared. “No way.”

Your pulse sped up.

And there he was, standing under the blooming tree.

Kim Mingyu. Untouched and impossible, as always.

Like he’d never left. Like winter was just holding him for a little while.

Cream sweater, beige coat, sleeves pushed up. Hair a little longer, softer, brushing his forehead. Petals stuck to his shoulders, almost like the tree missed him too.

Then he saw you.

He smiled.

And just like that, your anger dissolved into nothing. Useless.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Hana breathed.

Mingyu crossed the street without hurrying, hands in his pockets.

He looked you over, then said, “You cut your hair.”

No greeting, no apology. Just that.

You glared. “You were gone for eleven months.”

“I know.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

He looked sheepish, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I missed you too.”

You hated the way those words hit you. With everything you wanted to say, all you managed was, “You can’t keep doing this—just disappearing and coming back whenever you feel like it.”

Something in his eyes changed—flickered and dimmed. Maybe sadness.

“I know,” he said, voice quiet.

Wind scattered more petals between you. For a second, neither of you said a word.

Then he held his hand out to you.

“Walk with me?”

You should have refused, really. But twenty minutes later, you were there beside him, following the river’s edge, shoes brushing through a coat of blossoms, sunlight painting everything gold.

The whole town changed shape in spring with Mingyu at your side.

Brighter. Softer. Like the world adjusted a little bit just to fit him in.

“You’re angry,” he said.

“You think?”

“You’re allowed to be.”

You glanced at him. “So explain it.”

He went silent.

That same quiet that always came up when you pressed too close to whatever secret he was hiding.

“You know I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

His jaw tightened. The wind picked at his hair, sent petals skipping over the water.

He stopped walking. “You ever notice how spring doesn’t last as long as it should?”

“Not really the point, is it?”

“Everything beautiful is short-lived.”

“That’s a terrible reason.”

He chuckled, soft and sad. “You always say that.”

“Because it is.”

He studied you, closer than ever—like he was trying to memorize you, just in case.

There was a heaviness in your chest that wouldn’t let go.

“Know what I love most about humans?” he asked.

Humans. Not just people. That word made your skin prick.

“What?”

“You love things fully, even when you know you’re going to lose them.”

He sounded almost in awe. Like the idea hurt him.

You swallowed. “Mingyu…”

For a second, it felt like you were finally going to get the truth.

But then he only smiled, softer this time. “Come on. I bet the magnolias up the hill started blooming.”

Just like that, the moment faded. Gone, like spring in a snap.

That evening, you walked streets thick with petals before dusk carried you home.

You paused outside your building. Mingyu stood a few steps down, hands shoved in his pockets.

“You’ll come tomorrow?” The words slipped out, unguarded.

His face softened. “I always come back.”

It should have been comforting.