s

But not with your eyes looking at him like he was your entire world. Not with those eyes, silently pleading that he understood what you felt for him was something that had always been present. Not when your voice was so quiet and gentle, so small, so ready to accept a rejection despite hoping —no, praying — against it. He couldn’t do that to you, not when he had loved you from the moment he saw you. Not when you were the only image burned into his mind, your name always on the tip of his tongue. Not when it was always you. Only you.

I love you.

You’ve heard those words be passed around your entire life. By your mother, you wouldn’t bat an eye if you suddenly disappeared from her life. From your father, you only ever spoke to you when asking about your grades and what universities you were going to apply to. By your friends, who wouldn’t hesitate to leave you if a boy they barely knew asked them to. They were such stupid and meaningless words — I love you. They were never true. They never held any significance, and to say them would make you no better than a liar.

But you meant them.

You meant them when the thought of them first crossed your mind, when you looked Taesan in the eye and said them for the first time after holding them down. You were only sixteen at the time, but you swore nothing had ever been truer than what you felt for him in that moment. You meant them two years later, when you graduated with him and he was the first person you ran to, the first person you embraced. You meant it, really, when you argued with your parents about letting you date him — Han Taesan, the son of a cobbler, the son of a poor man whose wife left him for a man more well-off than they were. And you meant it when you told him you’d leave everything behind if it meant you’d be with him forever. Even if it meant starting over, losing your parent’s financial support, giving up on your dreams of pursuing a higher education, and working for the rest of your life just to get by. You’d do it all for Taesan, the poor boy your parents would never approve of, the boy whose first thought every morning was about you, the boy who’d give his heart to you in the blink of an eye if you had just asked.

You loved him with your entire being.

You were only eighteen when you ran away with Han Taesan, leaving your parents behind in their cold, sad house as you climbed out of your bedroom window with only one bag filled to the very brim. It was a few months after you had graduated and a few weeks before you would be sent abroad by your parents who wanted you to become a doctor. But you couldn’t stand the thought of living halfway across the globe in a place where you wouldn’t see or hear from the boy you loved for the next four years.

He tried to talk you out of it, tried to convince you to stay and just listen to your parents because they knew what was best for you, because they wanted what was best for you and your future. But you wouldn’t have it. You’d always been a stubborn girl, refusing to let anyone change your mind once it had been set.

“But you want to become a doctor,” Taesan spoke to you in a quiet voice. “You told me it was your goal in school.”

“The goal my parents set for me, yeah,” you replied. “But I never wanted it. I just wanted them to be proud of me.”

For as long as he could remember, you had always tried to make your parents proud — despite their overwhelming lack of affection. Getting the highest scores on your exams, being accepted to the best universities with a full ride scholarship to all of them. Your future was set from the moment you graduated. He could see it now — you, settled down comfortably in a nice neighborhood, working in one of the best hospitals in the country, internationally recognized for your skills. He saw you with a family overfilled with joy, in a house where the sunlight seemed to reach every dark corner, with children who did nothing but laugh and love, and a husband who made every one of your wishes come true.

Someone who could give you everything he would never be able to.

“I don’t want you to do that,” he said after a while, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to leave your life behind just to be with me.”

Truthfully, his words broke your heart. You were giving yourself to him in a way you’d never done with anyone, literally telling him you wanted to be with him more than anything else in the world, and he couldn’t see that. He couldn’t accept that.

But Han Taesan has never been one to deny you what you wanted, and if what you wanted was to run away with him, then you’d have it. Even if it meant couch surfing for months before settling down in a one bedroom apartment where the rent was more than what it was worth. And you’d live there for years despite the broken A.C. and constant plumbing issues, because it was your home.

The home you made with the love of your life.

And then you were nineteen, working six out of the seven days of the week, making barely enough money to pay rent and feed yourselves. Your hands that were once smooth and moisturized soon became rough, calloused and dry, your fingernails chipped from the labor of your job. Taesan would spend what felt like hours staring at your hands, a blank look on his face before sighing deeply and looking away.

“What?” you asked him one night over dinner. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head as he ate. He swallowed before continuing, “I just wish you didn’t have to work is all.”

“I like working,” you said, your tone becoming defensive. “I like keeping myself busy. I’d be bored to death if I was just a housewife, Taesan.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” he said, sighing again as he put his chopsticks down. He looked up from his plate and at you. “I don’t want you to be working in a factory for the rest of your life.” His voice was quiet, but you could sense his frustration. “I want you to find something you’re actually passionate about and do that instead. I don’t care if it’s working or staying home or going on long walks for hours just because you can. I just don’t want you to be at risk of getting hurt all the time. That’s not the life I want for you, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded and looked away from him, eating the rest of your dinner in silence. There was this almost-hurt look in his eyes as he spoke to you that night that made you wonder if Taesan had ever regretted running away with you. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, going from having access to everything to limited resources, but you put up with it because this was where you wanted to be. In a house with the man you loved. Who cares if you had to work for the rest of your life just to make enough to put food on the table? You would work for as long as you were able if it meant you got to come home and sleep in the same bed as him.

“Do you like what you do?” you asked him that night as you laid in bed, your head resting on the arm he’d stretched out beneath you. “Working on cars?” You turned your head to look up at the side of his face, his eyes staring at the ceiling above you.

“It’s a lot of work,” he responded quietly. “And it’s dirty.” He chuckled, “Sometimes I feel like I can’t get the grease off my hands.”

“But do you like it?” you asked again, sitting up on your forearm, getting a better look at his face. He was tired, with dark circles around his eyes from having to wake up early every day. “Like is it something you’d do for the rest of your life if you could?”

Taesan’s eyes finally drift over to you, smiling as he combed his fingers through your hair. “No,” he said. “I don’t want to work for the rest of my life, Y/N.”

“What do you want to do then?”

“Just lay here. With you.” You smiled, leaning down to kiss him, melting into his arms the moment he wrapped them around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips. “So much, you don’t even know.”

“I love you more.”

Taesan shook his head, “Impossible. Unheard of. Not true.” You laughed, moving away as you laid back down beside him, your head resting again on his arm. You were quiet, your eyes closed and your breathing level. “We’ll get out of here,” Taesan spoke quietly, wrapping his other arm around you before planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I promise you, it won’t always be like this.”

In all honesty, you wouldn’t be against living like this for the rest of your life. But you knew this wasn’t the life Taesan had promised you, and you knew he’d do anything to make sure he gave you the life you deserved.

When you were twenty, Han Taesan promised he’d marry you.

He rarely ever took time off work, so when you woke up that morning and found him still laying beside you — his hair a mess, his arms around your waist, and his face buried in the crook of your neck — you couldn’t help but feel a bit worried.

You sat up, shaking his bare shoulder lightly. “Taesan,” you called as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and inhaled deeply. You opened your eyes, instantly squinting as soon as the sunlight seeping in from the window hit them. “Hey.”

“Hm,” he hummed in response, his arms still around your waist, his head now on your pillow. You didn’t respond, still much too tired to form a coherent thought as you fought the urge to fall back asleep with your head in your palm. Taesan opened his eyes slowly, his vision adjusting before he too sat up beside you and ran a hand through his hair. “What?” he asked again as he turned his head to look at you. You exhaled, rubbing your palms down your face before opening your eyes to look at him.

“Are you not working today?” you asked, watching him shake his head quickly, his hair flopping around every time he moved his head. You let out a laugh, bringing your hand up to cup his cheeks and stop his head from shaking. “Really? You’re sure?”

Taesan nodded, his face still in your hands, watching the way your eyes slowly lit up and the smile on your face grew. He was still half-asleep, still trying to process why you had woken him up on his first day off in months. “Do you?” he asked.

You shook your head lightly, “No.”

His eyes widened, “Really?”

You hadn’t had the chance to actually be around Han Taesan for what felt like an eternity. He was always out of the house by 4:30 AM latest and always came back at around 7 PM. By the time you did see him, his eyes were shut and he was halfway through the second stage of sleep. But today — today you had him all to yourself.

“Have you talked to your dad?” you asked him as you walked down the street, your hand in his. You were both on your way to the farmer’s market, taking advantage of your free time to buy groceries together. “It’s been a couple of months, right?”

“He’s fine,” Taesan replied, exhaling. He glanced at you, “He’s still trying to get me to move back in with him, if that’s what you’re asking. Wants me to continue the family tradition.” He paused, “Shoe making,” he said, sighing afterwards.

“I knew that,” you said, coming to a stop as you waited for the crosswalk to clear and the light to turn green. “He’s just looking out for you. But is he well?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Very. Too well for an old man.” You laughed, walking again as soon as the light changed, feeling Taesan squeeze your hand and move to intertwine your fingers. For some reason, despite all the years you’d been together, the action moved something in you. It made you feel warm inside, the same feeling you felt when he kissed you for the first time four years ago, when you told him you loved him. It was refreshing, knowing you still felt the same, knowing that despite your parents never voicing it, you did still love him after all this time.

But even now, two years after you’d run away from home, two years since you’d last seen your mother and father, you were still — in some odd, childish way — looking for a way to prove them wrong about you.

“Does this one sound good?”

You blinked, turning to look at Taesan who was slapping his hand on a watermelon, checking to see how ripe it was. “Hm?” He looked up at you, picking it up and walking over to you until he stood right before you.

“Can you check?” he asked, semi-embarrassed. “You’re better at this than I am.”

You laughed, putting your hand on the watermelon in his hands and hitting it a couple of times. “Yeah, it sounds good,” you said, watching him nod and mouth ‘okay’ as he walked up to the old lady behind the stall and handed it to her. You stood beside him, watching her weigh it. You tugged on his shirt lightly and he leaned down so you could whisper in his ear. “Do we really need it though?” you asked quietly.

He looked at you, his arms folded across his chest. “You mean, do we have the money for it?” he whispered back, chuckling when you nodded. “Love, I don’t think a watermelon will put us in debt,” he laughed. “We’ll be fine. And if it does, I’ll just work even harder.”

You don’t know what you did in your past life to deserve Han Taesan.

You walked behind him, staring at his back as he carried the watermelon in his hands and said something about what you should do together after your visit to the farmer’s market. “Maybe we should do a hike,” he said. “We haven’t done one of those since high school.”

“Because you don’t like walking,” you commented.

“I do,” he said, glancing back at you before doing a double take and stopping in his tracks. He hadn’t realized you were walking behind him and waited for you to catch up before continuing again. “I do like walking, Y/N. What do you think I’m doing right now?”

You looked at him, “You’re carrying a watermelon.”

“Yes, but I’m also walking.” You hummed in response, which only caused Taesan to look at you again, his brows furrowing. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Tired?”

“No,” you said, sighing. “I was just thinking about something you said.”

“What did I say?” He blinked, trying to remember what he could’ve possibly said that would have you lost so deep in thought. “Anything bad?”

You stopped walking once you were outside the farmer’s market, standing a couple feet away from the last stall. Taesan stared at you, waiting for you to tell him what exactly it was that was on your mind. You sighed again, looking down, somewhat ashamed to voice your thoughts, though you did anyway. “Do you remember when you told me you want me to find something I want to do for the rest of my life?” Taesan nodded, listening intently. “Okay, well I feel the same way.”

“Did you find something you want to do?” he asked curiously.

“No, I mean about you,” you replied. You looked up at him for a moment, then away again when you felt your eyes start to water. “I don’t want you to work forever, Taesan,” you said, shaking your head as you tried your best to stop yourself from crying. “I don’t want you to work any harder than you already have been. I don’t want you to be the only one killing yourself just to get by one more day. It’s not fair.” You sniffled as you looked at the ground, your eyes landing on his dirty, worn out shoes. And for some reason, the sight of them alone was enough to make you cry. “I don’t want that life for you.”

Taesan’s eyes widened as he quickly set the watermelon in his hands on the ground gently before wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling you sob against his chest as you returned the hug. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m sorry.”

Taesan had never really considered that though he would work forever to ensure you lived a comfortable life, maybe that just wasn’t what you wanted. He hadn’t thought about how you would feel about him working every single day and barely ever seeing each other because he was doing it for you. Everything he’d ever done, from the moment he met you, was all for you — to ensure you were happy at all times. But not once did it cross his mind that perhaps you wanted the same thing for him. Maybe that’s why you worked so hard despite him not wanting you to.

“I don’t care if we’re stuck here forever,” you said a few moments later, after you’d calmed down. You had found a bench to sit on, somewhere that wasn’t so close to the farmer’s market where other people could see you. You wiped your cheek with your hand, sniffling as you held the watermelon in your other hand, resting on your lap. “I don’t mind having to work every day just to get by. Sure, we’re both tired all the time, but being with you is enough for me.” You paused, your voice growing quiet. “That’s why I left with you, Taesan, because I couldn’t imagine having to live a life where I wasn’t with you or didn’t see you every day. My goal was never to be a doctor and work in a cold, lonely hospital. It was you.” You looked up from the watermelon and at your boyfriend who sat beside you. He was looking at his hands, rough and dry, picking at the grease that had stained his hands from working long hours in the shop. “My dream was always you, Taesan.”

“I would marry you if I could,” Taesan spoke, his eyes glossing over. “I promise you, I would. If I could afford to take you to a nice restaurant like the ones we always pass by, or if I could afford to buy you a ring to propose to you properly with. Maybe if I could buy a nice pair of clothes, something to wear that isn’t dirty or stained.” He chuckled, “I wouldn’t need new shoes, though. I could just make those myself.” He inhaled, running a hand through his hair. You hadn’t noticed how long it was getting, how dead the ends were, how he needed to constantly move his hair out of his face. “But my point is that I want you to have everything, Y/N. A proper life. I don’t want you to live like this forever. I don’t want you to struggle.”

“Why would I let you struggle on your own?” You reached your hand over to hold his, stopping him from picking at the skin on his hands. “I would never do that to you.”

Taesan nodded, finally turning his head to look you in the eye. “I know,” he said, pressing his lips together as tears slipped from his eyes, feeling your hand come up to his face, wiping his tears. “That’s why I love you, Y/N.”

“Because I won’t leave you alone?” you joked, smiling when he let out a laugh followed by a sniffle. “You don’t have to marry me,” you continued, reassuring him. “Marriage is just a piece of paper. I know you love me. You don’t need a paper to prove that.” You looked down, patting the watermelon. “You can propose to me with this instead.”

Taesan stared at you for a second, not quite sure if you were joking or not. “We’re eating that later, love.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But it’s the thought that counts, right? Married, not married. Who really cares?” You leaned closer to him, whispering, “We can be anything we want.”

One day, you would marry Taesan — you knew you would. Even if you couldn’t afford a ring or a nice ceremony, you would sign your marriage certificate without a second thought because from the moment you first laid eyes on Han Taesan, you knew it would be him. From the moment he first appeared in your dreams to the day he became your dream, you knew there would never be anyone else. You loved him — so much to the point where you wondered if your love for him had been written in the stars, if he’d been promised to you by the universe the moment you were born.

Taesan held the watermelon as you walked back to your home that day, your fingers intertwined with his. He told you about his first impression of you, how his heart almost leapt out of his chest the first time you looked at him. You told him about how you used to get distracted during your tutoring sessions and write his name over and over in your notebook until it filled the page. And he laughed at you, and you laughed at him.

And when you came home together that day, he cut the watermelon and served it for you, sitting beside you at the table as you ate together, his arm propped up on the table as he leaned his head into his palm, looking at you. You told each other stories about your childhoods, stories passed down by your parents — anything that possibly came to mind. And later that night as you laid beside each other, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as he looked at the ceiling with droopy eyes, your body curled up against him as you tiredly played with the fingers on his other hand, you told Han Taesan you loved him more than anyone else in the world.

And you meant it.

NOTE: i’m not even gonna lie, this fic is so dear to me so thank you so much to everyone that’s reading this like this is literally my baby oh my gosh i’m gonna cry 😭😭 i love u guys sm take care of yourselves and have an amazing day/night 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

2026 © bigsuki, all rights reserved.

as he approaches, he feels a small twinge of nervousness. it’s strange; he’s usually confident in these kinds of social situations, but something about you makes him pause. perhaps it’s the way the warm light from the window catches in your hair, or maybe it’s the concentrated way you type, oblivious to everything around you.

“hey,” he says, voice soft but clear enough to catch your attention. you look up, and when your eyes meet, he swears his breath hitches.

“oh, hey!” you greet, your lips lifting in a smile. you introduce yourself, and he can’t help but think your name suits you perfectly. he introduces himself, and you both settle down, expecting the others to show up any minute.

but ten minutes go by. then fifteen. finally, it’s clear: no one else is coming.

with a slight shrug, you suggest, “guess it’s just us.” he doesn’t mind one bit.

you start studying, but after a while, the silence between you grows lighter, like it’s inviting conversation. you start asking each other questions: how you ended up in the program, what your career plans are. dongmin learns you want to become a data scientist, a career path he’s also on, though you both arrived at it from different angles. you tell him about your favorite cafes and restaurants near campus, and he listens, intrigued, as you list off places he’d never thought to explore.

in exchange, he shares his love for western rock bands. “you’ve never heard oasis?” he says, eyes widening as he pulls up wonderwall on his phone. your expression shifts from curiosity to quiet appreciation as the song plays, and he watches your reaction, a small smile tugging at his lips.

a few weeks into the semester, you’re both studying late at the library. it’s nearing midnight, and the building is nearly empty, leaving just the quiet hum of fluorescent lights above you. dongmin’s been staring at the same line of code for five minutes now, unable to concentrate. he sneaks a glance at you, focused and slightly furrowing your brow. a faint smile tugs at his lips as he watches you, unaware of the way you’ve completely captured his attention.

you catch him looking, and he quickly looks away, clearing his throat. you raise an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your eyes. “something on your mind?”

he stammers out a quick “no, just… tired,” hoping you don’t see the flush creeping up his neck.

but you smile knowingly, leaning in slightly, and say, “yeah, me too. let’s grab coffee after this?”

dongmin can’t help but nod, his heart thumping at the prospect of even a few more minutes with you.

one evening after studying, a sudden downpour catches you both off guard. without an umbrella, you’re both soaked within seconds, but instead of rushing for cover, you burst into laughter, and dongmin feels himself relax, reveling in the spontaneity of the moment. you tug at his hand, pulling him under the awning of a closed café, laughing as you try to wring out your dripping jacket.

“look at us,” you laugh, holding up your arms, clothes drenched. “we’re a mess!”

dongmin chuckles, his eyes fixed on you as you run a hand through your wet hair, laughing. in that moment, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful—hair tousled, face glowing with joy despite the rain. without realizing it, his hand reaches for yours, squeezing it in a gentle, wordless promise. you give his hand a quick squeeze back, smiling softly, and he catches the glint of something unspoken in your eyes.

the rain eventually lets up, but neither of you makes a move to leave right away, happy to just be in each other’s presence.

you’re both at the concert for the local cover band, and dongmin is more excited than he’s been in a long time. he’s barely paid attention to anyone else, caught up in the thrill of introducing you to one of his favorite experiences. halfway through the set, he sneaks a glance over at you, wondering if you’re enjoying it as much as he is.

and then he sees it: you’re watching him, not the band. he freezes, momentarily caught by the warmth in your gaze. when your eyes meet, you flash him a shy smile, cheeks pink from the loud music or maybe something else. it’s as if you’re both the only ones in the crowded venue, lost in this shared moment.

he doesn’t realize he’s smiling like an idiot until you nudge him, laughing. “are you this happy every time you go to a concert?”

“only when i go with you,” he replies without thinking, his heart racing as he realizes what he’s just said. you don’t respond right away, but your hand slips into his, and neither of you lets go for the rest of the concert.

a week before the final, dongmin is stressed. you find him at your usual spot in the library, textbooks spread out, a frown etched into his face. he’s doubting himself, unsure if he’s prepared enough for the final, and you can see the worry wearing him down.

without a word, you reach across the table and place your hand on his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “you’re going to be great,” you say softly, catching him off guard. “i’ve seen how hard you work, dongmin. and besides…” you give him a playful grin. “if you can get through hours of my random questions, this exam has nothing on you.”

he laughs, his nerves easing as he holds your gaze. there’s something about the way you look at him that makes him feel like he can take on anything. for the first time in a while, he believes it.

“thank you,” he murmurs, and his fingers linger on yours just a little longer than usual. he thinks he sees a faint blush on your cheeks, but before he can say anything, you’re back to flipping through your notes, leaving him to wonder if he imagined it.

the night before the final, you both decide to take a break and grab some food at a quiet restaurant nearby. the two of you sit at a small booth, sharing dishes and laughing as you recount memories from the semester. dongmin is struck by how natural it feels, like this could be the start of something more. he catches himself staring at you again, and before he can stop himself, he says, “i really enjoy spending time with you.”

you look at him, surprised, and for a second, your smile falters, replaced by something deeper, softer. “me too, dongmin,” you reply, voice quiet but sincere.

there’s a lingering silence, and he considers saying more, telling you what’s been on his mind for weeks now. but he hesitates, not wanting to risk ruining the moment. you meet his gaze, and the warmth in your eyes makes his chest tighten. he wonders if you feel it too.

“good luck tomorrow,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur, as if the words carry more weight than they seem. you reach out, brushing his hand briefly, and he feels a flicker of something electric. he doesn’t need to say it back; his hand over yours says it all.

the final ends, and you both walk out of the building, a mixture of relief and exhaustion washing over you. you linger in front of the steps, looking at each other, and dongmin feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest.

“hey, can i… tell you something?” he asks, his voice wavering slightly.

you tilt your head, watching him closely. “of course.”

dongmin takes a breath, gathering his thoughts. “i know we started hanging out just for class, but… you’ve become so much more than just a study partner to me.” his voice is soft, laced with a vulnerability he rarely shows. “i like you. a lot. and i… i wanted you to know.”

he’s terrified of your reaction, but when he finally meets your gaze, he sees a shy, radiant smile spreading across your face.

“finally,” you murmur, eyes glinting with warmth. you laugh softly, looking down, then back up, catching his gaze. “i was starting to think i’d have to make the first move.”

relief and joy surge through him, and he chuckles, heart soaring. you step closer, reaching for his hand, and he holds it tightly, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.

needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.

"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.

something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.

ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -

dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.

you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.

fuck that.

dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.

"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"

"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.

but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"

the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.

"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.

it was official: han dongmin was in love.

"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.

"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"

what was the answer that would keep you here longer?

"yes?"

"are you asking me or telling me?"

"telling?"

"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.

until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.

"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.

dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.

"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,

"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.

"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.

you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.

"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.

dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.

"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."

"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?

"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.

"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.

it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.

"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.

"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.

"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.

"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.

"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.

god was real.

dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.

"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.

technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.

"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.

"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"

you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.

"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."

he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.

you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.

"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.

you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.

although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.

he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.

it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.

+++

turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.

instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.

dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.

you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.

the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.

so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.

your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.

at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.

dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.

he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.

"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."

dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.

"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!

he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.

"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.

you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.

(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)

"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"

you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.

it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.

you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.

"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"

even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.

"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.

before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.

you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.

"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.

you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.

"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."

dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"

you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.

"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."

now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.

"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.

you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."

you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"

dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"

you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."

"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.

good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?

+++

"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.

dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.

"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.

"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"

"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.

park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.

"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.

"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."

"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."

dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"

sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."

("you were there when that happened?")

("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")

("oh. sorry man.")

"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.

"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.

dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.

"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.

he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).

"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"

+++

dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.

he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.

he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.

the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.

instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.

as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.

"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.

he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.

dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.

of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.

he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.

thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.

"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.

"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.

"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"

dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."

your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."

"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?

"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"

"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."

you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.

"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.

"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.

"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."

"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.

"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.

"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.

"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.

"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.

"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."

"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.

"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"

"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.

"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?

"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.

after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?

"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"

"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."

"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"

"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."

"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."

+++

freshman year, spring semester.

"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.

"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."

"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."

"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.

"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."

"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."

freshman year, fall semester.

"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.

"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."

"get your mind out of the gutter!"

"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."

"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"

"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."

"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"

in first grade when you sat down at the desk your name tag was placed on, the boy next to made one snarky comment about your drawings you have disliked him ever since.

“a flower isn’t just pink. the stem and the leaves are green.” the boy beside you said during morning break, peering over your shoulder at your drawing.

your six-year-old self was already moody from earlier in the day when your mom gave your younger brother jungwon the last chocolate chip pancake. you got stuck with a plain pancake for your bites. without any hesitation, you read his name tag to yourself and snapped back.

“my drawing is pretty,” referring to his messily drawn bird. “park sunghoon.”

“and mine isn’t?” sunghoon quirked an eyebrow at you, picking up his paper to display his ‘masterpiece’.

“i don’t know what that is,” you fired back, making a face of disgust. 

“it’s a penguin,” sunghoon adjusted the glasses on his nose bridge. “yang ____.”

at least you knew he could read.

annoyed with your desk buddy you decided to spread your wings and move over to the table of two girls. grabbing your special pink crayon and paper as you approached your two giggling classmates.

“hi, i’m ____!” you carefully placed your drawing on the empty spot on the table.

“hi! i’m jimin!” the taller girl with the long black hair smiled. “this is my best friend yizhou!”

“wow i like your names!” you sat in front of them, reaching for your crayon to make another flower. 

you sat with the two girls until you were sent back to your seat for math. they quickly accepted you with open arms and even invited you to sit with them at lunch.

though you had to decline as you promised jake that you would find each other during lunch.

jake was your best friend. you met him in pre-k and were in the same class even in kindergarten. unfortunately, this year he had been placed in the opposite class. with no time to hang out during class but you knew you had lunch to spend together.

little did you know jay and sunghoon had the same plan. in the other kindergarten classroom across the hall, jake had quickly befriended jay because they both played the guitar. 

when your teacher announced lunch, you quickly ran up to the front of the line, pushing sunghoon out of your way, but not enough to have your teacher say anything. sunghoon tried to push you back but the line had already started on its route to the cafeteria. 

“jaeyun!” you called out once spotting a familiar head of brown hair, next to him was another boy you had never seen before, probably a new friend from his class. 

“____! i saved you a seat,” jake grinned, patting the chair next to him. 

you skipped over to their table, setting your lunchbox on the table. once you touched the seat he leaned down to whisper that at school he was now jake, to which you replied that he should make an exception just for you. 

due to the lack of attention you were paying as you were caught up in jake, you hadn’t noticed sunghoon following close behind you, sitting next to jake’s friend.

“ew why is she here,” sunghoon grumbled to the unnamed black-haired boy. 

“hoon be nice,” the other boy kicked his foot under the table, causing sunghoon to wince. the boy raised his hand out to greet you, waving it slowly. “i’m jay.”

“i’m ____,”

“i know,” jay answered, offering a half smile. “jake told me his best friend would eat with us so i invited my best friend hoon! he’s cranky though,”

“i know,” you side-eyed sunghoon as you took a bite of whatever your mom packed you for lunch that day. 

at recess, there were only four swings at the playground. someone had been sitting alone at the one on the end, making it three. you and sunghoon fought over the last swing, which he ultimately gave up. jay and jake took the swings on the further end while you and sunghoon reached the third empty seat at the same time. tugging on the chain back and forth until sunghoon reluctantly gave up and let you on the swing. giving you a rather aggressive push when you asked him to push your swing. 

near the end of recess, you felt bad so you got off and told sunghoon to take his turn. pushing his swing a little too hard to the point he almost fell, but thankfully he didn’t.

that continued for every day up until now. your group of you, jake, sunghoon, and jay continued through all grades. jake acted like nothing was wrong, you and sunghoon constantly bickered and acted passive-aggressively towards each other. then jay was the mediator between you two when needed. 

the type of relationship you had with sunghoon was solidified when on your seventh birthday. when his mother dropped him off, also carrying cupcakes to share with the class.

you shared a birthday.

from then, every year you just knew you had to go bigger than sunghoon and make everyone remember your birthday not his. from candy-filled goodie bags to funfetti cupcakes, to even begging your mom to bring your little brother jungwon to your birthday one year because toddlers are cute and you knew your classmates would agree. you always made it your mission to upstage sunghoon. 

as your eighteenth birthday approached, you still had the same goal: have a more memorable birthday than sunghoon. 

sure, it sounds childish and petty but as the both of you grew up you became closer to sunghoon. you still had your disputes and held a slight grudge against each other but the fact your friend group was the same forced you two to tolerate each other. though being left completely alone with each other ends in chaos than friendship nine times out of ten.

sunghoon was, for lack of better word, your frenemy. 

this year however was not going to be the year you stop this ‘tradition’ of going all out on your birthday. going all out to you meant getting jake, jay, and sunghoon into your car on your birthday and driving wherever you desire. that’s your ideal birthday, and having sunghoon there allows you to semi-celebrate his birthday (and so jay wouldn’t get mad at you for not inviting him). 

“so what are we doing for your guys’ birthday this year?” jay asked, setting down his tray of cafeteria food on the table and taking a seat. “should i take a day off or?”

“clear your schedules! we three are going on a road trip!” sunghoon shared excitedly. 

“hoon there are four of us,” you rolled your eyes, stealing a grape from jake’s tray. 

“you’re spending our birthday with jimin and yizhou this year,” he said with a mockingly sweet tone, booping you on the nose as the cherry on top. “i already told them to take my least favorite girl out.”

“why would you do that?” you harshly pushed his arm away from your face before he could retract it. “we always spend our birthdays together!”

“wow ____, just say you’re so in love with me that you felt the need to leave the womb the same day i did,” 

“i don’t mean you! i mean jake and jay always spend my birthday with me, you just happen to have nothing better to do on your birthday!” 

“okay, so what i’m hearing is i should call out of work?” jay interrupted your bickering, pulling his phone out to text his boss. 

“yes!” sunghoon and you said in unison. 

“hoon you can’t just make ____’s birthday plans for her,” jake spoke up, handing you the juice box he didn’t want to drink. he opened the carton before handing it to you, turning to ask you a question. “what did you have in mind for this year?”

“my parents are letting us go up to their cabin,” you told the table. “but if sunghoon is so set on spending this year without me then i can always bring my other friend group-” 

it was jake and jay’s turn to talk in sync, they shouted at you a no. 

your other friend group was, like sunghoon said earlier, jimin and yizhou. they have been your separate friend group since the day you met in first grade, which was the brighter moment of the start of your first-grade career. you went to them for every thing and vise versa, you can’t possibly have all your friend needs met by two-and-a-half teenage boys.

“i think i win again this year!” you grinned at sunghoon, snatching a french fry from his tray. “as i do every year.”

“shut up,” sunghoon rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder. 

two weeks later you found yourself in the passenger's seat of your own car while sunghoon was at the wheel. finally reaching your birthday weekend meant your two-and-a-half best friends would accompany you up to the mountains to the cabin you’ve owned since childhood. the only thing missing now was jake and jay in the back seat. 

“why isn’t jake coming down?” sunghoon frustratedly sighed, tapping a bunch of places on his screen. 

that morning sunghoon had walked over to your house, greeted your parents, took your bag to the car, and even offered to drive today. your parents had no trouble allowing you to bring the three boys along as they had known them for over a decade. they truly thought sunghoon was the sweetest but you could beg to differ. 

you drove to jake’s house and waited outside just at the time the four of you had discussed last night. though jake failed to be there on his doorstep in his usual punctual ways. 

“guys i think jay is stuck at work,” jake started when he finally answered one of sunghoon’s millions of calls. “i think i’ll wait for him to be done and drive up together, i don’t want him to do the three hours alone.”

you both let out exasperated sighs before agreeing to the sudden change of plans knowing it was the best option. 

sunghoon hung up on jake and started the route his gps had shown when searching for the address of your place in the woods. the longest three hours of your life began.

the first hour was dead silent. nobody on aux, just the gps lady's voice filling the car every couple of feet, and the sound of breathing. 

the second hour sunghoon had broken the tension by asking if you were hungry, which you wanted to lie about but your stomach said otherwise, grumbling every couple minutes. he drove off the nearest exit and stopped at a small diner. 

once the car was parked sunghoon got out and waited for you to follow behind him inside. the waitress seated you in a booth in the corner then handed you two menus and explained she would be back shortly.

you decided on breakfast for lunch, and it seems sunghoon thought the same.

he ordered chicken and waffles while you ordered chocolate chip pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. it’s your birthday after all.

it didn’t take long for your food to come out.

the waitress seemed to be around your age, maybe a year or two older. she placed your pancakes in front of you before sending sunghoon a wink while biting her lip and walking away. for some reason that made you angry.

you spaced out for a couple of seconds rethinking that interaction, when you came back into consciousness you saw sunghoon was already almost done cutting your pancakes for you.

even if you were eighteen now, growing up with jake as your best friend made you subject to immense princess treatment. sunghoon doing something you liked for you without any request made heat rush up your neck. quietly thanking him as you took your first bite.

“i know jake always cuts your food,” he broke the silence. “so i wanted to do it for you since it’s our birthday after all.” 

“thanks, hoon,” you said with flushed cheeks. picking up a piece of your pancake to shove into your mouth after your next sentence. “happy birthday to you too.” 

throughout your rather silent meal, your waitress kept coming up to the table. she only ever looked and talked to sunghoon. constantly flirting with him and eventually asking if he was single to which he responded that he wanted more butter. 

by the time she came back with the butter you and sunghoon were ready to pay. going back and forth until sunghoon snatched your card to hide it so he could pay with his. 

“i know this is weird but can i have your number?” the waitress fluttered her eyelashes at sunghoon as she handed back his card, hand grazing his for a couple of extra seconds.

“oh um,” sunghoon quickly retracted his hand and pulled you towards him. “i have a girlfriend.” he let an arm fall around your waist and held you close. feeling you freeze under his touch, he rubbed soft circles on your hip.

“oh my god i’m so sorry!” she apologized, quickly picking up your plates and booking it towards the kitchen. “i assumed you were just friends.”

you and sunghoon didn’t speak at all but he kept his arm around you, guiding you toward the car. the remaining two hours were as silent as ever, maybe even more than before. just the adjustment of sunghoon giving you aux.

it was still early in the afternoon when you arrived at the cabin. knowing jay’s work schedule you knew he never stayed past 2 pm so you checked to see if he and jake were on their way. they were not. they weren’t even with each other. both of their locations were still at their homes, and the app had told you jay had been home all day. 

“hoon,” you poked his shoulder, facing your phone screen towards him.

“what ____ i’m driving,” he reminded you, eyes never leaving the road. 

“jay didn’t go to work and the both of them are still home,” 

“what?!” 

you quickly opened your contacts to facetime the two liars and get them to start driving to meet you before dinner. eating dinner for your birthday alone with sunghoon did not seem that pleasing, the car ride was the most awkward it’s ever been between you two, and more hours of that in a cabin in the middle of the forest would be even worse.

jay picked up first. his camera was off and his voice was evident of sleep.

“yes?” he managed to grumble. 

“why aren’t you and jake on your way?” sunghoon spoke for the both of you 

“um work,” jay painfully obviously lied. “we should be leaving as soon as jake is ready.”

right when jay said that, jake’s cheery face appeared on the screen with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “we can’t make it today,” jake continued smiling as if he didn’t just tell you the one thing you didn’t want to hear today. 

“seriously guys, on my birthday?” you frowned. 

“our birthday,” sunghoon corrected you. 

“we will be there as soon as possible tomorrow morning!” jake tried to lighten the mood. “on the bright side we still have the rest of the weekend to hangout.”

“fine, but why can’t you make it?”

“well you see my car is currently in the shop-” jake started to explain.

“use jay’s,” sunghoon cut him off. 

“my mom is using my car right now, her car is in the shop,” jay mumbled, sounding like he had been sleeping throughout this whole conversation, which he was. 

“okay but if you guys aren’t here when i wake up you owe me free drinks every time i visit you at work,”

“sure whatever i’m tired,” jay groaned, leaving the call shortly after. jake left next, still suspiciously smiling at the camera. he wasn’t off the hook, once he got there you would kill him. 

finally arriving at the cabin you and sunghoon unloaded the stuff from the trunk. thankfully you two were in charge of the food. so you wouldn’t starve without your two best friends.

after everything was brought inside you let sunghoon pick his room for the three nights. you already knew which one was your room, since you claimed the same room every time you came here with your family.

unloading and decompressing took around two hours. you decided to shower while sunghoon had fell asleep on his bed. the moment you walked out of your room sunghoon had emerged from his, standing across from you in the doorway parallel.

“hi,” you stared at his messy bed hair. 

“hey,” he replied. “hungry?”

“i could eat,”

you followed him to the kitchen where all the food you had bought in preparation for this trip sat. though without jay here neither of you wanted to cook so you got out two ramen packets. sunghoon silently nodded at you to signal he was okay with it and you started boiling water.

soon enough you sat next to each other at the dining table silently eating your food.

it was weird being so quiet around sunghoon. normally you would be yelling at each other by now to the point you would have ran off to your room and slammed the door in his face. that was your normal. even if you didn’t like it that’s just how you and sunghoon are and you have grown to accept it.

he was annoying and flamboyant to you but you saw how fun he was to be around through other people. no, you don’t hate park sunghoon, you just don’t know how to do anything other than pester him. 

but you had a pact to not piss each other off on this one day of the year.

sunghoon and you finished up your makeshift meals and moved to the living room to turn on a movie to pass the time. he silently put on your favorite movie when you were kids and you both sat next to each other with around a foot of space between you.

as the movie came to a close tiredness crept on you. bidding a short good night to sunghoon and sleepily stumbling towards your room. after crashing on the bed and wrapping yourself in the sheets you finally let your eyelids droop.

but all the tiredness left your body as soon as the videos of people's paranormal stories flooded your thoughts. even worse as you were in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with park sunghoon alone. he could not fight a ghost. 

tossing and turning after what felt like forever you swore heard a creak from the balcony attached to your room. scared out of your mind you quickly got up and ran to sunghoon’s room. 

thankfully you did not interrupt his slumber since when you opened the door his lamp was still on and he had a book in his hands. 

“hoon can i stay in here i’m hearing things,” you begged, shutting and locking the door behind you. 

“what do you mean?” sunghoon set his book down on the side table, giving you his full attention. “hearing what?”

“i know this probably sounds like i’m just paranoid- which i am! but i keep hearing creaking noises from the balcony in my room.” you explained, approaching the bed. “i spent the whole car ride going down a rabbit hole on creepy stories and now i’m… scared.” you whispered the last part, trying to preserve the little pride you had left.

“um sure, come here,” sunghoon motioned for the space on his bed. the bed was big enough for the two of you so you didn’t think it would be a problem. you let out a sigh of relief.

as you climbed under the duvet he reached over to the side table again, opening the drawer to reveal a neatly wrapped box.

“i wanted to wait for the guys, but it’s not going to be our birthday much longer,” referring to the eleven thirty-eight on the digital clock. “open it,” 

you carefully unwrapped the box he handed you to find the necklace you had been eyeing the last time the four of you went shopping. you hadn’t explicitly told anyone you wanted it but stared at it the whole time. 

your eyes started to burn because sunghoon’s gift had been the first and only gift you received today. your parents already giving you the cabin, your brother jungwon being a broke fifteen-year-old, yizhou and jimin’s gift was stuck in transit, then lastly jay and jake not showing up. 

sunghoon’s gift was undeniably thoughtful, even more so because he would have only known if he had been paying close attention to you that day. 

suddenly you felt like a horrible friend for not thinking of getting him anything, you never got each other gifts in previous years. 

“hoon…” you sniffled, taking the necklace out of the box to admire it. 

“are you crying?” sunghoon asked, disregarding everything you had just said. “here, let me put it on for you.” he took the necklace from your hands and unclasped it to wrap it around your neck.

“can i hug you,” you asked through sniffles, to which he shyly nodded.

moving the covers off both of your legs you practically jumped on him. letting your knees fall onto the slides of his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck, of course, while still crying. 

sunghoon awkwardly hugged you back, hand coming up to lightly pat you on the back as if you were some crying newborn. 

“shh,” he whispered into your hair trying to calm you down. 

“i didn’t get you anything,” you pouted, staring at him with glassy eyes, he swore he could cry as well. “i feel bad taking this.” and now sunghoon started crying. 

“no, please keep it,” sunghoon said with tears in his eyes as he brought his hand up to stop yours trying to remove the jewelry. he didn’t expect himself to cry but seeing you cry over something he got for you flipped something in him and tears started streaming down his face. “look you don’t have to repay me or anything this gift comes with something more important.”

you tilted your head at him confused, patting under his eyes to dry his face. how could he still have something to give you?

“____,” he raised his hands to cup your face. “i like you.” 

“oh,” was all you said, causing sunghoon to panic. 

“like i don’t hate you or anything!” 

“i know… didn’t we establish this at the start of high school?” you questioned, confused about why he felt the need to tell you again, that you were technically one of his best friends by how much time you spent together. “i don’t know what you are trying to get at right now hoon.”

“i mean like in that type of way,” he trailed off. “like-”

“is this a pity gift?” you quickly dried your face in embarrassment. of course. he didn’t actually care. jake probably told him to get you something this year and then gave him the gift idea when he came to him for help. the tears he shed were probably just from the heat of the moment. “did jake put you up to this?”

“no wait! that’s not what i mean at all,” sunghoon grabbed your hands to keep you from removing the necklace around your neck for a second time. 

“okay so what is it?” you pried your hands out of his grip, crossing your arms.

“i like you in a ‘i want to be your boyfriend’ type of way,” he nervously explained, you could feel the bed shaking from his leg bouncing. 

“oh,” you said once again, trying to process what he said. “um,” you wanted to give him an answer but couldn’t find the words, you swore there was something with the air since you started tearing up again. 

“are you crying tears of joy or because you hate me even more now?” 

“both,” you finally spoke, trying to stop the tears from falling down your sleeve. 

“is that a good thing though?”

“i mean,” you cleared your throat. “i think a boyfriend is the best present you’ve ever gotten me, and the only one you’ve ever gotten me actually.”

“great!” sunghoon scratched the back of his neck, you furrowed your eyebrows at his response. 

“that’s all you’re going to say?” 

“i didn’t think this far…” sunghoon apologized, pulling you into his arms. “i was only prepared to be rejected.”

in the morning jake and jay finally arrived. the cabin was dead silent and all the bedroom doors closed except for the last room on the left. jake whispered to jay and they tiptoed towards the door. as quietly as possible until jay stubbed his toe on the corner of the couch and let out a shriek.

fortunately for them, sunghoon and you were heavy sleepers and didn’t look at all disturbed when jake turned the doorknob.

you were sleeping cuddled up into sunghoon’s side while he had an arm around your waist and the other under your head.

their plan had been successful!

the two boys tried to exit the door and leave you two be but as they walked further down the hall to find their rooms jake tripped over nothing. falling on the floor with a thump, but he didn’t make any noise to try and prevent waking you guys up.

as he slowly got up sunghoon’s door burst open. revealing sunghoon clutching a book and you clinging to his arm behind him. 

“oh it’s just you guys…” sunghoon slowly brought the book down. 

“i thought the ghost came back!” you moved forward so sunghoon wasn’t covering you anymore.

“ghosts aren’t real ____,” sunghoon turned around to you, pushing you back into the room towards the bed. “me and my GIRLFRIEND are going back to sleep!”

it's like an immediate que for him to give it up, he's not gonna win against you. when he used to see you around the university, mingling amidst a crowd of people every single time, he always thought you'd hold nothing against him. in his eyes you were a hollow image, nothing worth it. perhaps he was wrong, for so far you have him tight in a grip, he can't seem to find something to properly hate. that is if he takes the oranges out the picture.

he sighs in resignation,"come on, let's go, baby." happy? his brows rising in a question, softening up at your smile getting wider with a swift nod.

he relaxed too soon.

"was this really necessary?" the palm of his hand slides around your wrist as you walk down the steps of your italian chateau. supporting your heel clad feet and gesturing at the big beige floppy beach hat sitting atop your head. "absolutely! it's my fa- dad!" sunghoon's head snaps at that, immediately turning to look at the pitch of your voice going higher. the real deal, your father still seated in the garden with a newspaper in his hands and dear lord, a glass of orange juice.

it's embarrassing to be seen with you like that, he was gonna say. but oh well, nevermind.

"i see you have your favorite hat on, going somewhere with sunghoon?" your dad asks smiling warmly at your pair. it makes sunghoon scared, aren't dads supposed to hate boyfriends? is he being bamboozled by your family? will he be preyed upon later when you are not there to see? as if it was possible, your entire family though really welcoming of him are a bunch of weirdos, who the fuck let's their precious daughter share her room with her boyfriend they've met for the first time?

when he agreed to fake date you he didn't know he'd have to put on such a detailed act. there's literally no restrictions for you in the house. you do whatever you want, when ever you want. and that includes taking him everywhere you go, because apparently your parents know him as the boyfriend who loves you so much that he can't let you be alone at any time. shouldn't that be a red flag though? he can't with this anymore, just over a day in and he's convinced he can't make it make sense anymore, it's a white towel, he can only go with the flow.

"yes he really wanted to go down to the lake," what me? when? sunghoon's eyes wander in a panic while you smile as if you weren't just lying through your teeth. smile sunghoon smile, just fucking smile, he reminds himself wondering if he should maybe say something, maybe not?,"didn't you, baby?" the little nudge of your elbow against him tells him that he should, oh god its difficult to learn when to do what.

"yeah the weather seems really good," he says, a slight tremor in his voice, internally facepalming himself. he has one job, and he's failing even that.

"hm, true," the acknowledgement from your father helps calm his nerves a bit but it runs on high again at his next words,"be back before lunch though, your brother and sister in law will be home soon. it's been so long since we last ate together," you have a brother? why wasn't he informed about this? is the universe playing a game with him? as if your parents weren't enough, now he has to impress more people. he can do this, for the sake of his recommendation letter he has to do it.

"yes dad! love you," sunghoon waits like a lone statue as you leave his side to press a kiss to your father's cheek. grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away the moment he opens his mouth to bid your father. at this rate you'll ruin it for him before he can ruin it himself. "slowdown, fluffy. i'll fall at this speed," he tries but it's to no avail, he should have known by now, no one can control you.

the walk down to the lake is quieter than he expected, no bickering or fighting. you show him around the small streets and shops on the way, telling him little stories back from your childhood. sometimes stopping at a spot,"so pretty, can you take a picture of me here?" and it's already the fourth time. he doesn't mind though, on the contrary he finds himself enjoying it. it's not everyday he gets to roam around the streets of italy with the perfect weather.

it doesn't take long for you both to reach the deck on the far left. following your lead, he sits down on the edge beside you, legs hanging low over the cold water and your shoes placed on one side. you sit close, arms brushing each other, little finger atop one another. your hair flowing with the wind swipes against his face when you turn the other way, a subtle hint of sweet (you guessed it) orange tingling his smell buds. instead of grimacing his life off, he leans closer for another whiff of it. "sunghoon!" retracting immediately when you turn back to him.

"hm?" a feeling so out of this world, a haze lost in his mind. your words sound blurry and your extravagant hat looks so pretty on you. he almost feels like he has to capture this. "i asked how you like it? weren't you listening? what're you thinking?" and he does, taking out his phone and clicking a candid. he can't believe he now has a photo of you in his gallery that he's taken on his own accord. he's been doing many weird things lately,"it's really pretty," so so many weird things.

"hey fluffy i've been wondering about something," he speaks again, looking away to try to ignore tiny little fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

"what is it?"

"haven't you ever dated before, why do your parents seem so excited to see you have a boyfriend?" there he asked it, the biggest mystery he can't stop thinking about from the moment he set foot in your palace of a house. if it's your first then maybe that would somewhat explain their behaviour, not that it would become normal altogether, just kind of justifiable that he won't be put on the rack. that he's truly welcomed and he's safe.

"not really, no one ever met my standards," your answer throws him off. what?

"does that mean i do?" he tests the water, cautious above all yet his tone still comes off as one of tease.

"yes, except one," he eyes turn to you at that, pupils dilated with curiosity for the one thing stopping him from the title of 'perfect for you' as your parents claimed. meeting his eyes in a lock of contact, you give him a small smile. hands moving over to his white button up, fingers tracing his collar and undone buttons watching his adam's apple bob in a hard gulp as his brown orbs follow your movements, sweat building up at the close proximity when you both lock eyes again,"you don't really like me," sunghoon immediately looks away, a stab of reality, he was actually anticipating something he could change. really park sunghoon? remember you don't like her?

"am i wrong?" you laugh leaning forward to have a look at his face.

"i never said that," sunghoon clears his throat, turning back, suddenly gaining a surge of confidence. park sunghoon what???

"m nat yiur baby!" you interrupt immediately, speaking through the stuffed salad in your cheeks, eyes shifting back and forth to heeseung sitting beside him. praying he wouldn't misunderstand even though your insanely fast beating heart clearly knows who it's beating for.

"come on babies don't speak with full mouth, no matter how cute you look," i'm gonna die if you don't stop right now sunghoon feels like he'll combust any moment, blow his cover and mess everything up. he doesn't give a shit that your crush aka his friend, is sitting right next to him, if anything he's doing it in front of him on purpose even though he knows the boy has got no feelings for you. he has just got something for the way your face scrunches adorably when you get annoyed, and how your oh so kissable lips turn into an angry pout that does nothing to show your anger but tempt him even more.

"ou knww wat m levnig," grabbing your plate with you, you give heeseung a tight lipped cheery little smile and two short kicks under the table to sunghoon before leaving the area.

fuck park sunghoon and fuck his hotness and fuck how he gets to you every single time. your heartbeat keeps on getting higher and skipping beats with each step you take, repeatedly hearing his words in your head again and again. even more so when you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you, those very familiar clicking of his chelsea dress shoes that suit him devilishly well.

"enjoy," sunghoon leaves the table after you, patting his friend's back in a quick apology and rushing away.

"yo chipmunk cheeks! wait up for me!"

"get away!"

just fucking kiss already. lee heeseung has had it enough already. he can't stand third wheeling anymore, it's making him sick. he needs to get you two into seven minutes in heaven or something. just anything to end whatever this is you have going on with him stuck in between.

"whatcha doin baby chicks?" sunghoon's annoying ass voice has you looking up from your book, eyes following him as he drags out the chair beside yours and plops himself down smugly. he's alone. he's alone alone.

"where's heeseung?" you ask, remembering how he promised he'd bring along the boy for a study date. the sole reason you agreed to meet him in the library.

"somewhere between those shelves," sunghoon fingers point towards the rows behind your table,"probably getting you know what," he suggests, resting his head on his hands, staring at you trying to find your guy. "liar, he's not like you," you retort and it has sunghoon grinning from ear to ear,"hm, what do you think i am like?" there's a hint of amusement and a tone of teasing in his voice, it makes it hard for you to conceal your nervousness. so many times of it happening yet you still can't control the fluttering butterflies and sparks in your stomach. are you sure you're crushing on the right person? well heeseung is nice he helps you with notes from missed classes and most importantly doesn't taunt you for being second.

"a predator," nevertheless trying to outwardly stand your ground is something you have learned to do when it comes to him. do not show how weak he gets you. do not let him have the upper hand. that's been your motto since day one.

you almost feel your heart jumping out of your chest when he bends to grab the seat of your chair and pulls you closer, leaning so close to your face, you feel his breath hit your lips with every exhale,"so you must be my pretty little prey?" if you move just an inch forward you'd end up smearing your cherry gloss on his chapped lips, feeling hyper aware of every little movement from the touch of his fingers near the hem of your skirt to the little shifting you do in your seat. fidgeting and constant staring at each other's lips. the faint hovering of his palm on your thighs, the other lingering over hand resting on the table, like a cage in between,"you're gettin-"

"guys i finally found it!" you're snapped out of it when heeseung slams a pile of books on the table, hands flapping up to slap against sunghoon's chest and push him away with all the might you got.

it takes you a few minutes to settle yourself down into calm, ignoring the way sunghoon complains about being harshly shoved for apparently no reason. and smiling at heeseung as he explains how he'd been trying to look for some books on zoology which somehow happened to always be borrowed out, that is until today. you take a second look at the books he shows, hitting an embarassing realization, eyes switching between the two guys.

"wait- you were looking for these books over there?" pointing to the same rows sunghoon did initially.

"what else were you thinking in that tiny head of yours, chipmunk?" sunghoon wiggles his brows suggestively knowing exactly what you were thinking of, enjoying the way you come to the horrific realization of how you both were just flirting, more specifically of what you implied and what you didn't deny.

"nothing, shut up and do your own work!" a poor attempt at brushing it off but he'll let it go since you aren't really alone right now. a lovesick grin, eyes trained on you the entire time. only heeseung notices and once again wonders of when you'll knock it off.

"miss second place at a frat party? that's new," if there's hell, yours is definitely tied to sunghoon, your personal lucifer on guard. amidst a roaring crowd of people he still manages to find you and get on your nervous in a matter of seconds. time and again he's proven to be the bane of your existence.

"shouldn't that go for you, mr first place? don't you want to keep it?" against the counter on the far end of the kitchen, he has you trapped.

"keeping you? i think i already have it," his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers in a low voice, pulling away immediately to leave you wanting for more. "no i-" you shutter for the first time in front of him, shit.

"i meant the last assignment, i scored more than you," you sound much softer and tinier than you would have ever liked to, but your brain's in such a mess you can't think straight.

"you're so studious it's cute but chipmunk i couldn't give a shit about being second place to you, you can take my place any time you like," he gets so much closer again you start panicking, if you don't get out of here right now, losing all your pride and prudence to him wouldn't be impossible anymore.

pushing him away slightly you hope he'd give way to you,"i'm gonna go find heeseung," adding all the more reason to it. "let me help you with that," but he's adamant on not leaving you alone today. six months of watching you have a crush on his best friend and he's had enough.

dragging you out to the living room, he brings you to the couch on the other end of where heeseung stands surrounded by his group of friends. and sitting down on it, is immediately pulling you onto his lap, hands going around the waist to hold you close,"let's make him jealous," his lips brush against yours, getting a sweet taste of your lipgloss. just like how he's always imagined.

"kiss me,"

and heeseung sighs from across the room. fucking finally.

“j-jake-“ you pulled away from his grasp, heaving for air after that short yet everlasting kiss both of you shared secretly.

“you know we can’t be seen together.” as your flushed cheeks were on display in front of him, despise all of it, your mind was full of worries and anxiety of being caught by one of your family members or risking into a more intense situation in your bedroom.

“god, you’re so pretty whenever i look at you.” you scrunched your nose at your boyfriend’s compliment as he had a small smug smirk from your shy, silent reaction. you quickly turned your head towards the door, eyeing the hallway like a hawk to check if there was anyone near by and to your fortune, you can still hear the laughter and voices from the adults downstairs. you felt relieved, sighing softly.

your pondering thoughts became interrupted when you felt jake’s hand slither around your waist and pull you back again closer to him. you gasped, having both of your palms being in placed of his chest. he raised an eyebrow as you were taken aback from his gesture that was normal for him to do.

you were a blushing mess, however jake was smiling like a trickster- not giving a damn about what he’s doing to you, rather amused. you stared at him, observing how obnoxiously handsome he is with his hair being slightly disheveled up from your hands a few seconds ago, his hooded eyes gazing to yours and his lips being stained from your favorite shade of red from forbidden exchange that was yet mutual. the sight was scandalous but breathtaking. you wanted to stare at him for hours, like a painting from a museum, trying to analyze every beautiful feature that earth has offered.

as the moonlight reflected your bodies from your small window, jake felt a breeze from it. the window’s open a tad bit. he sat down on the little space your window offered for sitting. he admired your wavy locks being swayed by the night air and your crimson cheeks being glowed from the radiance of the moon.

both of you smiled in delight, contented with each other’s presences.

jake. sim jake. adventurous yet devilish. elegant yet charming. sincere yet … complicated to deal with.

as you met the rebellious individual, you had no intentions of befriending jake. you didn’t like his trickster behavior in front of his friends, spreading unhumorous jokes, say the meanest things about teachers and most of all having an egotistical mind that one cannot top. especially jake, for he is not only annoyingly attractive but naturally intelligent in his studies. maybe that’s why you didn’t entirely hate his guts.

your parents warned you about jake ever since he became not only your new classmate but your new neighbor. how innocent looks can cover their sinful stunts.

the way he showed himself to you at a family dinner at your place, he wore all black clothings including black ripped jeans along with multiple rings on his slim fingers and a lip piercing being proudly displayed on the right side of his face. in spite of it, you were surprised how someone your age can look daunting to look at. it somehow concerned your parents how one can allow their child to have piercings.

you would rather be the opposite. your closet would be filled with soft pastel colors. you have two piercings - the lobes. the ones where you would get at a young age and you never recall as you grow older but yet looking at jake’s, you thrived the curiosity of one.

but somehow, it ease your parents’ tension against him when he became a smooth talker and how he was gonna major engineering in college. you gawked at him, comparing how you were gonna take pre-med in college. just wondering how smart can he be?

and of course, as a shy girl you would always stray away in making new friends as if you wanted to be friends with jake. at a family gathering, you were the first one finished with your meal and went upstairs to do your unfinished homework. as a result, jake’s parents admired you for your hard work and dedication, wishing that their son can do the same instead of partying and socializing. not that there’s something wrong with having an extroverted personality, but something to prioritize with studies.

perhaps you did do it on purpose for the sake of your ego against jake and to maintain a good reputation as a daughter in your family.

unlucky enough, jake caught your act rather quickly. he would always scan you whenever you would converse with someone, how your lovely smile would appear, your glowy brown eyes shining under the gleaming light, how he had noticed you have small dimples on both sides of your cheek if your lips curved, how you scrunch your face when you receive a compliment, and your hair look looking smooth. he wonders what it’s like to touch it with his fingers and smell the scent that your hair obtains. there’s many more observations jake silently took note of.

all of his thoughts are genuine. about you. everything he thought about you are genuine.

he noticed whenever you would quickly glance at him and immediately look down at your plate as if you were scared. you would nibble your bottom lip and fiddle with your fingers on your lap whenever the adults mentioned jake to you.

needlessly to say as he took interest upon your first impression, he wanted you to be on his mind as well. in a way that makes him be stuck in your head for days and let curiosity rise to know him better.

the first step in his plan, to offer you to be his tutor. it surprised his parents, amazed at seeing a drastic change in their son after being in your house for one night. although he might in a higher level than you are, he wanted to find a way to know you better.

the night he was supposed to be partying with his friends, it was with books and you.

it was awkward. you felt awkward. your mind had awkward thoughts. the two of you in your room together in the midday of an autumn day. although your window was closed, your body was cold as you were cuddling yourself with a fluffy blanket of yours while sitting down.

next to you was jake, his uniform was a bit crumpled and his tie loosen up a bit after saying, “hope you don’t mind.” to you.

you noticed how his hair was a bit out of place, having the urge to fix it as the perfectionist you are.

however, despite looking tired from his classes, he seemed curiosity and his eyes would sparkle whenever something in your room caught his eye. like noticing your piano medals spread across in a shelf or picture you’ve kept when you were in art class in second grade pinned in your walls.

“so… what subject are you struggling with?” you were the first to break the awkward silence, eyes glancing at the emptiness of your desk table hoping that it would be filled with a textbook of any subject.

“statistics.” jake replied after, gulping in nervousness to make any wrong move on you. you raised an eyebrow.

“oh!” you straightened yourself in your chair, making your blanket slowly fall down. your shoulders from your cami top were exposed to jake, making him take into admiration of your beauty from your single lamp open.

you looked at jake. “the test scores were given back today right? can i see your test score so i can have an idea in what to teach you?” you smiled at jake as a reassurance message.

jake’s eyes widened a bit, taken aback from your sudden request. you noticed the moment of silence, thinking that jake is embarrassed to show you but jake was thinking of something else. he didn’t except nor imagine this scenario taking place. it was something that might make you mad.

“it’s okay, i’m here to teach you not to make fun of you, you can be honest with me.” you nodded at jake, seeing him zip his back bag open behind him. he scooted his chair closer to you.

now you were taken aback from the sudden gesture that he wasn’t even fazed. his eyes were glued onto his folder but your eyes were glued onto his side profile. under the luminous light, it complimented his features well that you questioned how handsome can this boy get?

“whatever you do, please don’t get mad.” he spoke in a low tone. you distracted yourself with another thoughts, nodding quickly so you wouldn’t get caught doing the unforgiven, staring.

you gawked once he opened his folder, with the numbers written in red marker. a big fat 100 smacks you on the face.

“w-what..” you were in disbelief at what you were saying. you were confused as to why he needed tutoring when he got a perfect score. you studied so hard he night before the exam to get a passing grade of 100, but it only resulted in an 80. even worse, jake’s grade wasn’t curved. it made you be in a lost of thoughts as you glanced at jake. you noticed how his shoulders crouching down and avoiding eye contact like a guilty kid caught in the act.

maybe he can be your tutor instead which is humiliating to accept.

“you lied?” jake whined mentally at how devastated you sound. he was trying to quickly find a way to defend himself but what would he say instead of, i just wanted to know you better? sounds like a psychopath.

his lips trembled, “i-i .. okay look y/n..” you softened when you said your name with such delicacy and softness that it slowly made you forget being disappointed at him. “i just wanted to know you better, not as a neighbor but perhaps a friend since we will be often seeing each other a lot.. and i couldn’t find a way to approach to you without being weird..”

jake rambled with his words, slowly breathing in a fast pace after his chest was relieved from all of the stress he endured of defending himself. he looked at you with sad eyes, knowing that he disappointed you, that you probably never want to ever see him again and how you will snitch to him to your parents and they will forbid you to ever go near him again. but instead of crying your heart out, you chuckled in amusement.

“you wanted to know me better?” you asked again, appreciating the thought that he wanted to be your friend but in an unusual way.

“yeah..” jake lowered his shoulder, whispering his reply to you. he looked at you chuckling at him.

“we can be friends jake, you didn’t have to do all of this.” you slightly rubbed your eye with your index finger, tired of giggling from jake. “i know.. i guess i was scared that i might look like a weird guy to you.” he embarrassingly scratched the back of his hair with his hand. his hair bounced against his flustered head.

“well you seem weird from the first impression but other than that, you seem harmless.. i hope.” you scrunched your nose unconsciously, making jake’s heart fluttered from the dimples appearing on your face whenever you do it.

the more days spent with jake under the act of “tutoring him”, it was him tutoring you instead since he told you that he enjoyed math and physics. you thought he was a crazy scientist planning to ban away society from earth but the more time you witnessed him enjoy doing homework, you couldn’t help but think about him from time to time in appreciation that there’s someone who’s sincere as him. effortless and a natural.

during those moments, he did nothing but make you laugh and somehow make your heart flutter from his doings. it influenced your heart to be a mess. moments such as pulling your back bag from behind so there’s less weight and it’s lighter to walk with it while going home together from school, raise your blanket higher whenever it lowered from your body whenever both of you studied, and making your body electrocuted from the constant coincidental touches both of you share unknowingly. there would be times where you found jake adorable such as trying not to sleep whenever both of you were alone in one of each other’s room, whining in how a certain teacher sucks at their teaching job, and the crazy story times he experienced in his life. it made you realize how such a human can have so much impact in your life in less than a year?

nevertheless, you had to avoid each other at school to not let any rumours about the two of you knowing each other be spread across. jake completely understood as you didn’t want any drama from occurring in your final year of high school. there would be times where the both of you spared glances and smile at each other, missing each other’s presences deeply.

there was a moment where both of you laid in jake’s bed after studying, taking a small break before you return home for supper.

“y/n i’ve been thinking..” your heart thumped after hearing jake’s deep voice while closing your eyes. you never heard jake with this tone so it felt new and exciting.

you opened your eyes, turning your head to your right to face him as his stare was focused on the ceiling above him.

“i really like being with you. you made me realize how there’s always good in a bad place. and i really want to continue to be with you…” you sharped a breath when his picky was interlocking with yours. he finally turned at you and for once you were grateful that he didn’t witness how red your cheeks were becoming. you were become a mess at how sparkly his eyes were and beautiful his lips can be.

this feeling was brand new to you. you’ve never been close to a boy before as you were merely focused in your education. boys weren’t prioritizing your mind.

“do you like being with me too?” jake asked, softly as if you were gonna be broken glass. he was being fragile in case he will do something wrong to you. he spoke with hesitation. your mind was filled with memories that you spent with him from the past few months and you can’t but wanting to spend more memories with him.

“of course i do jake. every moment i spent with you, i feel free against the world that my parents created from me. you make me feel like it’s okay to step out of the comfort zone.” you smiled against your lips. jake soon did the same as you continued to stare at each other with silence, having a significant spark in each other’s hearts for the first time.

“can i court you then?” jake’s hand slowly creep to yours, softly grasping it. you looked down, your heart pounding as if it was gonna explode from your rib cage.

god you never felt more in love than before. “i would like that jake..” you sheepishly smiled, letting go of his grasp to hide your shy smile but jake didn’t allow that.

jake slowly took the hand that was covering your beautiful smile, taking his hand with it. you were silent, eyeing his every action as jake kept staring at you. it was like he was having a different emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t identify but you felt safe when you were with him.

jake pecked your palm and held it against his cheek. he closed his eyes, processing the fact that you’re now his and he’s yours.

and the fact that you have to hide it from your parents for now.

and here you are currently, “a penny for your thoughts pretty girl?” jake swept a strain of hair behind your ear. you shook your head, lowering your head in his neck to hide your flushed cheeks. you would always do this whenever you were feeling bashful from jake’s bold behavior and he loved it. that he was the only boy that made you be like this.

“it’s just you’re so beautiful when you look like that..” you whispered against his neck. jake raised both of his eyebrows, surprise at the sudden change in your usual personality. the position you were in, where jake was sitting down and you were standing above him. his legs being comfortably spread out so each of his leg is next to yours it made you be in a pit of nervousness and jake took note of it. jake always love how expressive you are with your own eyes as if it was telling a story if your mouth goes mute upon seeing his figure wherever, whenever.

“really?” jake’s hands slowly crept towards your hips, lightly massaging it before he pulled you closer to him, causing you sit on his lap with jake’s strength holding you still. your legs straddled his lips.

you looked down, realizing the situation you were in but jake kept holding his signature smirk as he was loving your reaction. he kept staring at you, swallowing the beauty you are in front of him. he didn’t want to get you go, thinking you are a dedicate feather ready to disappear if let go.

“well uhm,” you scoffed lightly, keeping a wide grin to disguise the apprehension from your face. as you were at a loss of words - not having a quick way to reply to jake, he took it as an opportunity to steal a kiss from your soft lips.

the sound echoed in your head, making your heart flutter listening to it. you closed your eyes again when jake stole another one.

you looked at him, filled with fond and passion. the silence aura, it spoke louder than words of how much you two love it each other.

you lightly placed your hand against jake’s resting on your hip comfortably with a small smile on your lips. you rubbed his fingers lightly.

“i love you.” as fragile as you sounded whispering the truth spilled from your lips, your heart never felt any less warmer with any other guy besides your secret boyfriend in front of you.

jake’s other hand, cradled your jaw. his thumb was slowly rubbing your cheek as his thoughts were filled of the words “i love you” multiple times. he didn’t say, but you felt it.

“i love you too my y/n.” both of your lips collided with a deep kiss after jake exchanged his romantic confession to you.

“y/n!” you immediately pulled out of the kiss, mentally whining that it ended too quick due to your mother calling you.

“yes?” you yelled back back as jake didn’t stop kissing you. he continued showcasing his love for you when his lips touched your neck, having little pecks as he was attached from your perfume scent you sprayed on before jake’s parents arrived to your home.

“jake’s parents are going home now! please send jake downstairs.” your mom called out. you sighed after you replied with okay to her.

“jake..” you called him before he gets distracted with his desirable thoughts of wanting to continue in kissing you. you ruffled his hair to awake his senses but he has beat you to it.

“i’ll go now my princess, i’ll definitely miss you.” jake pressed his lips one last time to your cheek before you removed yourself from him to get his things.

jake grabbed his glasses from your table and the flannel he tossed in your bed the moment he entered to your room.

this time, you were observing your boyfriend picking up his possession, especially with the gray sweatpants and a white plain tank top. simple yet still handsome in every way and form. you can’t believe that jake is yours.

before jake left, his hand wrapped around your door knob indicating his hesitation. “hm?” you hummed in confusion when you turned your head to see jake stand still. you were curious of what was holding him back.

“i’ll be at your window in 10 minutes.” jake looked back. his eyes were gazing your figure in your bed. you looked up at him and his heart still flutters just as he first saw you. you taken aback with this new gesture of his that you didn’t know what to say. “i-ill see you then.” you let out a smile. jake smiled back before quickly heading downstairs. you heard the mixture of his voice and you the adults downstairs as you fell sideways in your bed, making your head bounce on your pillow.

with his mischievous and brave acts with you, you’re certain that one day both of you will be caught but you never objected the ideal of doing so.

Silence. One word, two syllables. A fairly straightforward term with a meaning that can be easily deduced from a quick scan of its Merriam-Webster definition. 

But unlike many words, silence is one that’s typically learned through experience. Through stilted beats, pregnant pauses, dreamlike moments in the dead of night while the world around you is at a standstill. 

In the moments just before the music starts, when it feels as if the audience around you is holding their breath. And you stand at the center of it all, blades of your tightly laced skates against ice, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat, mind spinning with possibility. In those moments, your long trained muscles take over, following the memory of countless repetitions as your body prepares to do what it knows best. 

There’s a question in that silence. One that’s asked with baited breath. 

Will I land this skill? Will I go home with a medal around my neck, cold weight a familiar comfort against my skin? Will this be my best performance yet? Will they love it? Love me?

That, as you’ve come to learn, is your favorite kind of silence. The kind that’s filled with endless possibility, with the promise of something beautiful or disastrous or some odd mix of the two to come. 

The feeling of freedom, of flying as blade cuts through ice, as your body defies gravity with every jump, every spin. 

But that is very much not the kind of silence that greets you where Dr. Min eyes you warily over the top of his pristine clipboard, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows. Frowning, he glances at the paper once more before returning his gaze to you. 

“You’re sure you’ve been resting? No weight on the fracture at all?”

It takes a good chunk of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Mostly because you’re lying through your teeth, but who’s keeping track? 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Gesturing to the thick black boot the lower part of your left leg and foot have been imprisoned in for the better part of a month, you add, “This thing’s still coming off in two weeks, right?”

Two weeks is pushing it, but you’ve done more with less. Two weeks puts you exactly three months out from regionals, which gives you exactly ninety-one days to pull together the most jaw dropping program you or the judges have ever seen. One that’s certain to land you on the podium and secure a spot at nationals. 

Once again, you thank your lucky stars for Coach Lee. She’s been with you since you were still struggling to lace your own skates, and there’s no one else you’d trust to have you ready for regionals in such a short time frame. No one else you’d bet your fate on like this. 

“That was our original time frame, yes…” Dr. Min trails off, avoiding your gaze in a way that has your stomach dropping unpleasantly. 

“And we’ll be sticking to it, I’m sure.” You hate the way the end of your phrase turns up like a question. 

Dr. Min sighs. “Look, ___, our original time frame was ambitious to begin with, and I hate to tell you this, but your ankle is not healing as well as we’d hoped. Fractures don’t heal overnight, and the best thing for you right now is rest.” 

The argument is already forming on your tongue. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not trying to ruin your life, ___. Truly. I’m saying this to you as the parent of an athlete and a former athlete myself. Pushing yourself now will only lead to reinjury in the future and will also very likely shorten your career. Your ankle needs to heal before you skate on it again. It needs to heal before you so much as put weight on it. And you need to let it heal completely.” The sincerity in his voice is hard to stomach when he says, “Believe me when I tell you that you’ll regret it for the rest of life if you don’t.”

And logically, you know he’s right. Know that this will be nothing but a minor setback if you allow it to run its course. If you follow his advice to rest and heal. But skating has never been something you’ve done with the logical parts of yourself. And Dr. Min doesn’t get it. You tell him as much. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Regionals are in less than four months, and—”

“I hear you. Believe me, I do. But this is your third year of university, which means you have another shot at nationals next year. If you push it and try to skate before you’re ready, you may very well lose that chance.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and do nothing until my ankle decides to cooperate?” Even voicing the possibility has you suppressing a grimace. 

But Dr. Min has different thoughts. “Yes. That is exactly what you need to do.”

You don’t avert your gaze. Neither does he. Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “My recommendation at this point is still rest, but—”

“But?” Your excitement is impossible to contain fully. 

Dr. Min levels you with a cautionary look over his clipboard. “But, if you’re going to do anything, our athletics department does also run a physical therapy program, which I think could be beneficial. It would help to retain flexibility, mobility, and agility in the areas of your leg that support your ankle. It could help get you back on the ice faster and maintain the leg strength you’ve built. There’s a group session that runs on Tuesday afternoons—”

“Yes,” you nod, not bothering to hear the end of his statement. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“I… okay.” As much as you want to hate him for it, Dr. Min has a point. And while you doubt physical therapy will be anywhere near as grueling as your usual workouts, it sounds a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. 

…

You’ve never liked hospitals. The odd juxtaposition of white, lifeless sterility and a culmination of some of life’s most painful moments has always left an unpleasant taste on your tongue. 

It’s one that has you double checking the address Dr. Min forwarded to you as you enter the oddly cheerful building that is apparently home to a renowned athletics physical therapy facility. Despite the medical purpose, there’s a distinct liveliness that envelops the space. 

The woman at reception informs you that this is indeed the right building and the session you’re attending has just begun in the room to your left. 

Pausing at the door, you’re struck with a sudden timidness. A physical therapy group for athletes will obviously be filled with, well, athletes. And although you can’t speak too harshly on that particular subsect of people, being one yourself, they can be intimidating. It must be the competitiveness, you think. The drive to push, succeed, win that gives off such a distinct aura.

Steeling yourself with one last breath, you remind yourself that’s why you’re here. To get back to that version of you that has everyone else feeling a little shier. That version of you that eats, breathes, and sleeps with ice skates laced on your feet and visions of the top of a podium driving your every decision. 

With determination straightening your brow, you push open the door. 

And immediately find yourself grateful for the mental preparation as three heads snap in your direction.  

Hitching your bag up an inch on your shoulder, you try not to melt under the sudden awkwardness. Thankfully, one of them is better at breaking ice than you.

“Hi,” the boy closest to you is the first to fill the silence. He’s all smiles where he gives you a friendly wave, moving a stray hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head as he tells you, “I’m Jungwon.”

You offer your name in return, trying on a smile to match his friendliness. You have a feeling it comes more naturally to him than it ever will to you, though. 

Regardless, he offers an equally cheerful, “Nice to meet you.” Glancing over to where the second boy is moving through a series of stretches, Jungwon makes eye contact, silently telling him he’s up next. 

Even mid-stretch, he acquiesces. “I’m Niki,” the second boy follows. 

“And I’m Jake.” The last boy doesn’t need any prompting from Jungwon. Nodding towards the walking boot that covers the bottom half of your left leg, he glances at a similar one that he wears on his own. “Looks like we’re twins. Tore up my achilles pretty bad in my last soccer match,” he explains. “What about you?”

“Fractured my ankle,” you return, a rueful smile dragging your lips up. “Figure skater.”

“Ah, man.” Jungwon winces. “That sucks.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalance you don’t feel. “No worse than a busted achilles.” 

“That’s cool that you skate though,” Jake offers. “Kind of a funny coincidence, actually. There’s another—”

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to finish the thought. At that moment, the door opens again, this time revealing a middle aged woman in a white physician’s coat. Her name tag reads Dr. Kim, and she introduces herself as such to you. 

“Looks like everyone’s here, including our new member.” She gives another cursory nod in your direction. “Welcome again.” Glancing around, the instructor pauses. “Oh, wait. Except for—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” For the second time in the span of a minute, the door behind you opens. You don’t miss the glance that passes between Niki and Jake. You turn to face the new arrival, but his back is to you as he sets his bag down and begins the process of switching his shoes. 

The way the new member enters with a dismissive wave of his hand and lack of proper greeting has you thinking tardiness is not an uncommon trait of his. Even from behind, you can feel the waves of arrogance he exudes. That seems to align more with your preconceived notions of athletes. 

Studying him for another second, a sinking feeling of dread begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Long, dark hair. Unnaturally graceful movements, even if all he’s doing is digging through his bag. Tall stature, broad shoulders, long legs. 

An athlete’s build through and through. Perfectly suited for the ice. 

“Great.” Despite the statement, Dr. Kim’s tone is flat. “Well, we were just getting started and introducing ourselves since we have someone new joining us today.”

“Hi,” he offers, still fixated on his bag, yet to offer as much as a glance in your direction. If anything, it only serves as a confirmation of his identity. “I’m—” You don’t even need to hear him say it. 

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up. 

Gaze locking with yours, a moment of confusion is quickly replaced by a furrow in his brow, the slight downturn of his lips. He’s not thrilled to see you either. 

A beat passes. 

Two. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

The silence extends to the point of discomfort for all four onlookers, each of them hesitant to break the tension that’s rising by the second. 

Finally, Dr. Kim takes a knife to the tension. “Do you two know each other?” 

Park Sunghoon. Renowned figure skater at your rival university. Someone with such a natural knack for carving lines through ice that whispers of prodigy have been shadowing his footsteps since the minute he put them on a rink. 

Someone with his head so far up his own ass you’re not sure how he can see half the time, much less keep his hair looking so perfect. 

Oh, you know him alright. 

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well. 

It also answers Dr. Kim’s question well enough. 

“Ah, good.” It sounds like a question, like she’s hoping your acquaintance will be a positive thing instead of a disaster. You don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. “The figure skating community is tight knit, I suppose.”

You suppress a scoff. That’s one word for it, you guess. 

You remember when it felt that way to you, too. Before tight knit became too small. Back before university, when it felt like it was you and Park Sunghoon against the world, instead of against each other. Back when the two of you didn’t skate for opposing teams but instead were members of the same club. A time when you took the ice together, skated as partners until he—

You force your thoughts to stop in their tracks. Your blood pressure has spiked enough in the last few days, and thinking back on long days spent with Park Sunghoon will only send it skyrocketing again. 

If anything, you’ll use this opportunity to practice perfecting your poker face for when you inevitably run into him at future competitions. 

And future competitions means you need a healed ankle, not a bruised ego. And certainly not an unpleasant trip down memory lane. 

Turning away from Sunghoon, you’re the first one to answer when Dr. Kim asks if you’re ready to get started. 

“Yes,” you tell her, determination written across your brow, in the set of your shoulders, and perhaps most noticeably, in the way you avoid Sunghoon’s wandering gaze for the next two hours. 

…

Without the rink, days are quick to meld into one another. It may be concerning, considering that you still have a set schedule of classes and homework to follow, but your life has revolved around training for so long that it’s hard to tell Mondays from Wednesdays without a set practice schedule. 

Thankfully, you do still make it back to the clinic at the right time on the right day, this time for another session with Dr. Kim and your fellow band of broken athletes. 

Including him. 

Aside from the glaringly obvious exception, you’re not as bothered at the thought of returning as you feared you might be. 

Jungwon, Niki, and Jake have proven themself pleasant enough company, and Dr. Kim seems to have built an understanding of how difficult it is to be forcibly removed from the sport you love. As such, she’s one of the least aggravating medical professionals you’ve spent time around. 

“Hey,” Niki greets when you arrive. “Did you have a good weekend?”

You shrug. “Good enough. Mostly just catching up on homework.” Setting your bag down and switching out your shoes, you join him on the mat, beginning the series of warm-up stretches Dr. Kim instructed you through last week. “What about you?”

“Not too bad. I got some good news from my doctor, actually.” He switches legs in his stretch, and you’re almost envious of his flexibility. He’s a dancer, and an exceedingly good one at that. One with an unfortunate knee injury at the moment. “My x-rays are looking a lot better. He thinks I might be able to start easing back into regular use by next month.” 

“That’s great,” you smile, even as a pang of jealousy stabs somewhere near your gut. “I’m really happy for you, Niki.” 

“A month still feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?” He sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I was out of the studio for this long.” 

Jungwon slides down onto the mat next to you, joining in on the stretch routine. “Consider yourself lucky, man. They told me at my last check-up that I probably won’t be able to do any jumping or kicks again for at least three months even though the fracture is already mostly healed.” He shakes his head. “No jumping or kicking,” he echoes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, things that are super easy to avoid in taekwondo.”

“If it’s any consolation, I just got told that I’m gonna have to sit out of regionals this year. Which means I’ll have no way of qualifying for nationals.” You wonder how many times you’ll have to admit that particular reality to yourself before the sting starts to fade. 

“That sucks.” Jake agrees, coming down to the mat and occupying the spot next to Niki. “I’ll probably have to sit for this entire season, too. I love my team, but it’s so frustrating watching them play when I know I could be an asset on the field.”

“That’s true.” You’re struck by a sudden wave of sympathy. “At least skating is an individual sport, so the only person I have to disappoint is myself.” 

“Speaking of skating,” Jungwon sounds hesitant as he approaches the subject. “Do you and Sunghoon, uh…” he pauses for a moment in search of a neutral way of framing the unmistakable tension that surfaced the last time he saw the two of you together. “Do you two know each other?”

Grimacing internally, you suppose an explanation was bound to be solicited after your icy reunion. “We skate for rival universities.” Your gaze fixes on a spot on the ground. “And before college we used to, uh, we used to skate for the same club.”

The three boys share a glance. It’s hardly an explanation for the venom you said his name with but before they can press you further, the subject in question enters the room. 

Again, he takes his time setting his bag down, getting his things ready. This time, he also pulls out an obnoxiously big pair of headphones, secures them over his ears before he bothers to turn around. Despite the fact that all three boys offer him friendly smiles and waves, he returns the gesture only with a tight smile, making his way to the mat on the opposite side of the room before he begins his stretch routine.

It’s a message that rings loud and clear. A frown passes between Jake, Jungwon, and Niki. It’s obvious to you, then, that you’re the reason he chose to set himself up as far away as physically possible. 

So be it, you think, letting the slight roll right off of you. It’s not the first time he’s given you the cold shoulder for something he plays an equal part in, and you doubt it will be the last. 

Besides, it will only make your sessions pass by quicker, if the burden of avoiding gazes and minimizing interactions falls on his shoulders instead of yours.

With nothing but a shrug, you adjust slightly, ensuring that the only view he has of you is of your back. 

…

It’s a pattern that continues as physical therapy sessions start to become a regular routine in your week. Sunghoon, with his apparent disdain for anyone’s time but his own, is always the last to arrive. He also continues his habit of picking the spot in the room furthest away from you. 

Despite the fact that you’d like to chalk it up to his social ineptitude alone, that explanation doesn’t track. Although there’s still a certain aura of aloofness that follows where he goes, it’s too often that you see him smiling at a joke cracked by Jake or sharing easy conversations with Jungwon and Niki.  

Hell, he even interacts with Dr. Kim with a level of warmth you didn’t know was possible coming from him. If there’s any disdain in their conversations, he directs it all towards his right wrist. It’s why he’s here, you assume. Encased in a brace similar to the one you wear on your left ankle, his right forearm seems to be the reason for his attendance. 

It’s hard to not be envious. While a wrist injury is nothing to scoff at, it doesn’t necessarily keep you off the ice. Not in the same way a fractured ankle does. 

Refocusing your thoughts, you push the boy across the room firmly out of mind as Dr. Kim helps adjust you into the next stretch.

“How about now?” Dr. Kim pushes your spine a fraction of an inch further, pressure light but demanding. Before, this much flexibility would have been an easy request of your body, but lack of use has your muscles feeling tight. “Any tightness or pain?”

“No.” The bead of sweat on your brow begs to differ, as does the way the negation slipped through gritted teeth. 

But you’re frustrated. Annoyed at the progress you’ve lost, at the new limits of your body, at the way you feel like a stranger in your own skin. 

Across the room, you miss the flicker of annoyance that flits over Sunghoon’s features. Headphones on as always, you imagine you’re nothing more than a blip on his radar, a pesky intruder that’s easily ignored as long as he has his back to you. 

“Hm,” Dr. Kim muses. “You’ve retained more flexibility than I expected.” She offers you a smile. “That’s a good thing, a sign of a quick recovery.”

You suppress a grimace. It should be a good thing. You should be recovering quickly. If only you could get your stupid body to cooperate. 

Stealing another glance at the boy across the room, you can’t help the way a small burst of rage bubbles in your stomach. Prodigy. Why does he always get to be the anomaly, the exception to the rule? His injury is already less severe than yours, and he’s probably recovering quickly, too. Without even having to fake it.

Easing you out of the stretch, Dr. Kim jots down a quick note. “I’ll have Dr. Min run another x-ray at your next visit.” Nodding towards your ankle, she adds, “I think there’s a good chance that things are looking a lot better, and updated x-rays will help guide our next sessions.” She pauses for a minute. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself or get your hopes up, but I think we might be able to start putting some weight back on it soon. Start getting it stronger again.” 

You’re hesitant to let your excitement grow too much. But it would be a lie if you weren’t already counting the days until your next visit with Dr. Min in your head. “Thank you,” you tell her. “I’ll hope those x-rays come back looking good, then.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hopefully with good news.”

You nod, returning her smile before heading to the door to gather your things. Jungwon catches you on your way out. 

“Hey, ___, hold on a sec.” When you turn back towards him, he tells you, “The rest of us are gonna grab lunch at a place nearby, if you want to join.”

Your uncertainty must write itself across your features, because he’s quick to add, “Don’t worry. Sunghoon won’t be there. He’s got a class right after this.”

Slightly embarrassed by the way he read you so easily, you nod. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.” Despite their friendliness with Sunghoon, you’ve come to like the three of them. And it’s been far too long since you broke up the monotony of class, homework, and medical appointments with something as simple as lunch with friends. 

And as long as he’s not there, you imagine it will be nothing but pleasant. 

It doesn’t take long for them to prove you wrong. 

Niki barely lets you get one bite in before he asks, “So, what exactly happened between you two?” Even without the name, the question is obvious. 

Still, after choking on the sip of water you’d been taking, you answer, “Who?”

Jake just gives you a look. 

You sigh. “Like I said, we used to skate for the same club. We, uh, never really got along, I guess.” Avoiding eye contact, you add, “And now we skate for rival schools. I suppose it’s only natural to not like each other.”

Niki doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that sounds made up.”

Jungwon swallows his bite, parts his lips like he has something to say. Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. If any of the three of them spare you, you have a feeling it would be him. “I mean, it does seem like something else must have happened.”

Or not. 

“You don’t have to tell us,” he adds. “But it’s just… I mean, the two of you can’t even look at each other.”

Sighing, you suppose the circumstances do look odd from the outside. “There was… an incident. Back when we used to skate together.”

“What?” Jake asks. “Did he steal your skates right before a show or something?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “It happened on the ice, actually. During a program.”

“Wait,” Niki interrupts. “You said you used to skate together. Do you mean like, as partners?”

The guilt on your face says it all. 

“No way.” Jake says. 

Jungwon’s eyes grow bigger. “What did he do?”

“Yeah,” Niki turns to face you fully. “Wouldn’t being his partner be a good thing? At least on the ice, I mean. I know he can be a little insufferable, but isn’t he some sort of prodigy—”

“Prodigy, my ass.” You’re so sick of that goddamn word. “Wasn’t a prodigy when he dropped me in the middle of our program at junior nationals, was he?”

The way all three or their jaws drop in unison is almost worth the admission. 

But the thing is, he was. No accusatory fingers pointed in his direction after it happened. No one blamed prodigy Park Sunghoon for the mishap. 

No, it was decided fair and square by the jury of public opinion that the mistake was entirely your fault, your burden to bear. And it’s not like you were immune to the criticism. Whispers followed where you went. And you always, always managed to hear them. 

Maybe if you’d trained a little harder, completed the second rotation a little sooner, the skill would have gone off without a hitch, they mused. Hell, maybe if you’d stuck to your diet a little better, those last two pounds would have spelled the difference between a perfect landing and your ass on frozen ground, program music still crescendoing as onlookers watched with horrified fascination.

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces. 

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees. 

And they don’t even know the worst of it. Don’t know that back then, at sixteen, you’d had a giant, soul crushing, earth shattering, massive crush on your skating partner. That you searched for his approval just as eagerly as you’d sought out Coach Kang's. 

That you’d squeezed in as many extra practice sessions as physically possible for five months leading up to the routine just to make sure you were as close to flawless as possible, just to make sure you were chosen to be his partner on the ice. 

That you giggled, giggled, when you saw the matching costumes the two of you would wear for the first time. 

That you followed where he went with long sighs and lovesick eyes. That you looked forward to the grueling hours you spent on the ice with him, turning perfection into something even greater. 

That your heart skipped a beat every time you ran through your program, every time he caught you with sure hands and a strong grip. 

That Park Sunghoon never made a mistake, never let you fall, not once. 

Not until a spotlight was spinning dreams into reality and you were already anticipating the secret smiles you’d share with matching gold medals around your necks. 

Not until it all shattered in a single moment. 

It was cold, as you laid there on the ice, sprawled out and unable to move from the sudden shock of it all. Luckily, you’d avoided any critical injuries. You had staggered off the ice with nothing but some bad bruising, the worst of it staining your ego and your heart. 

And after it all, no matter how many times you passed him on your way to the locker room, shared the ice with him, or searched for the gaze he pointedly avoided across the room, Park Sunghoon never uttered the two words that just might have made you forgive it all. 

Instead of an apology or even the decency of an explanation, you got a cold shoulder and a lost friendship you were too confused by to mourn. 

In the end, you’d decided to turn it all into a blessing in a very thorough disguise. From that moment onwards, all of your time on the ice was dedicated to you and you alone. Never would you let anything but the sheer strength of your own will, your own goals, motivate you to become better, faster, stronger. 

And you found that victory tasted even sweeter, when the full weight of it could rest on your shoulders alone. When no one could whisper behind their palms that the only reason you stood on the podium was a prodigy of a partner. 

So fine. Park Sunghoon didn’t owe you shit. Not an apology, an explanation, or even a second glance. 

And if he was a prodigy, an ice prince or whatever stupid title he’d earned alongside his medals, well, you’d just have to be even better.

But now, sitting across from new friends with a fractured ankle and a ruined shot at medalling this year, a quiet part of you admits for the first time that maybe, just maybe, part of that resolve is nothing but spite in disguise. Part of the anger you’ve clung to for so long isn’t directed at him, but at yourself. 

That it was embarrassing to fall in front of a crowd, yes, but it was also humiliating to know that he was hearing all those little comments about your inferiority too. To realize that his silence meant he probably agreed. That you were a liability of a partner, unequal in both skill and importance. That he could move on from the incident, from you, completely unscathed. 

That your little crush was entirely one-sided, just like the respect and admiration you’d once felt for him. 

You stare at the half-eaten lunch in front of you, appetite suddenly completely gone. 

“What a coincidence that the two of you ended up injured at the same time,” Jake muses. 

“And in the same physical therapy group.” Jungwon nods. 

“Yeah,” you echo hollowly. “What a coincidence.”

…

When Park Sunghoon speaks to you for the first time in five years, it’s completely by accident.

As the weeks have continued on, you’ve fallen into a perfect routine during your shared physical therapy sessions. A routine of avoidance, ignorance, and as much space between the two of you as physically possible. It’s become so easy that the two of you navigate it with the kind of grace only two elite figure skaters could ever manage. 

If anything, it’s more awkward for the other members of your session than it is for the two of you. Jungwon, Jake, Niki, and Dr. Kim are the ones suffering as they try to stay friendly with both of you without icing out the other. 

It must be why he doesn’t even bother to check who it is that’s standing right next to him as he reaches for his bag on the shelf near the front door at the end of another session. Must be why he says it in a voice so casual you don’t think it’s him at first. “How pissed do you think Dr. Kim will be if I’m late again next week?”

Even though the voice doesn’t quite fit, you half expect to see Jake standing next to you when you turn to the side. 

Sunghoon realizes his mistake at the exact same second you do. You watch as shock flickers across his features, quickly replaced by something guarded, unreadable. Just as completely closed off to you as always. 

It pisses you off, the way he’s so utterly and completely unaffected by you. The way he can brush you off as easily as a piece of dust. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted. It has you freeing the reins on comments you should bite back instead. 

“Hard to say.” Ice and resentment drip from every syllable. “Then again, I’m surprised you care about what she thinks. Doesn’t seem like something that would bother you.”

That at least earns you some of his emotion. Another bout of shock crosses his face before it shifts to confusion and falls finally to anger. You can see it in the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. The flare of heat in his eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

If he falls to anger, you’ll rise above it. At least on the outside. There’s no accounting for the way your gut twists in rage. Still, you offer him a smile that’s almost as fake as it is sickeningly sweet. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you spend enough time thinking about it.” It’s patronizing, and intentionally so. You hope it annoys him enough to keep him up tonight. 

Reaching for the front door, you take your exit first. The hallways of this building have become familiar over the weeks. Even with anger clouding your vision and a bad ankle, you trace a steady path to the parking lot. You’re halfway to your car when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

You freeze for a moment, turning the sound of it over in your brain, stuck on the way it almost sounds like a plea, a prayer coming from his lips. The sound of footsteps draws nearer. They fall quickly, as if he’s running. Your indecision still renders you immobile. 

“Hold on a second. Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

If you thought you were angry before, you’re surely seeing red now. How dare he. 

Spinning around, you only hope you sound as outraged as you feel. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“What? No.” His brow furrows. “I mean, I know our schools are technically rivals and all, but we haven’t really seen each other in years.”

“Right, because you’ve been so sunny and welcoming since I joined the group.” And because the last time we saw each other ended on such great terms.

“I was giving you space. You practically bolted like a scared cat when you saw it was me.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hate the way it falls perfectly back into place. And you hate the way he looks so good doing it. “But clearly you’ve got something against me.”

The audacity, the sheer, utter audacity. There’s no trace of humor when you say, “You’re hilarious, really.” And there’s no room for debate when you turn away from him again, continuing to walk towards your car. 

“Wait,” he tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “God, ___, would you just hold on for a second, I—”

You turn. To do what, you’re not entirely sure. But before you can decide, the grip he has on his car keys loosens, the fingers of his right hand less dexterous than usual thanks to his arm brace. He still has his reflexes though. With his other hand, he manages to stop them from falling completely. 

“Better take care of that.” You jerk your chin to where he awkwardly fumbles with his keyring, trying to find a better grip. “Wouldn’t want to drop those too.”

His gaze snaps to you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slackened. The keys fall from his grasp, metal clinking delicately on the pavement. A million questions swim across his features, none of which you’ll give the grace of answering. 

Instead, you turn around once more. You make it all the way to your car, all the way out of the parking lot, all the way home. 

And he never says your name once. 

…

The following Tuesday, you are the last one of the group to arrive. And while you would usually never pass up the opportunity to best Sunghoon at anything, including being the latest arrival, competition is not the reason for your tardiness. 

It’s avoidance. That, and the fact that you had to spend eleven minutes giving yourself a pep talk in the car before you could work up the nerve to approach the front doors of the clinic. In the end, it’s a glance down at the boot on your left foot that does it. You’ve let Sunghoon ruin your chance at a gold medal once, and you’ll be damned if you let him do it again. 

Besides, your last visit with Dr. Min was a good one. Your ankle hasn’t healed quite as much as Dr. Kim suspected, but progress is progress, and you’re making plenty of it, according to your most recent x-rays. 

You enter the session with an apology for Dr. Kim and concentrated efforts to not let your gaze wander to the back corner of the room as you make your way over to where Jake and Jungwon sit. Starting your stretches, you assume Niki is over with Sunghoon, but you can’t work up the nerve to confirm that. 

Despite her initial annoyance at your tardiness, Dr. Kim is equally pleased at your latest x-ray results and gives you the green light to switch out the resistance bands you’ve been using for the next level up. Just as you’re reaching for the set of red bands on the shelf next to the treadmills, a set of obnoxiously smooth hands gets there first. 

Turning to Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, you grab the end of the band set he just snatched out from under you, eyes ablaze. 

The little fucker has the gall to roll his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You yank on the band. He doesn’t even flinch, grip steady. “I’m trying to follow Dr. Kim’s instructions,” you inform, tone flat. 

This time when you yank again, he yanks back. Much to your annoyance, he’s able to exert enough force to have you stumbling forward. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

“And it’s working,” Niki whispers to Jake and Jungwon in the back corner of the room. Dr. Kim just shakes her head. 

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests. 

“They don’t have enough resistance. I need these ones,” you argue. “Why don’t you take the green ones?”

“Pretty sure if one of us takes the lighter bands, it should be you.” Sunghoon tightens his grip. “Or are you seriously trying to claim that you’re stronger than me right now?”

“I’m using them for my legs, you absolute jackass. Which are definitely stronger than your forearms.”

Sunghoon cocks a brow. “Should we put money on it?”

“You are such a dick. Dr. Kim literally—”

“Has another set of red bands,” the woman in question interrupts. She levels the two of you with an exasperated look as she holds them out in front of her. “There’s another set of every color on the equipment shelf next to the door.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, pulling back a little on your end of the band before you release it, just to hear the small cry Sunghoon lets out when it snaps against the skin of his good wrist. “Thanks.”

And the satisfaction that comes from completing your usual number of reps with a higher resistance is almost as gratifying as when you see Sunghoon rubbing at the still reddened skin on his left wrist as you pack up to leave for the day. 

“Those two are gonna kill each other,” Jungwon tells Jake and Niki as the three of them walk to their cars, brow creasing in concern. 

“Or something,” Jake agrees. 

Niki hoists his bag up on his shoulder. “My money’s on ___.”

A contemplative look passes between Jake and Jungwon before they nod in unison, “Yeah.”

…

You’re in the middle of passing a medicine ball back and forth with Jake the following week when he asks, “Are your school’s finals next week too?”

And although it’s hard to believe, first semester is already drawing to an end as the days get shorter and assignments get longer. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m up to my ass in essays right now.”

“Same,” Jake agrees. “Sometimes it makes me wonder how I do it when I’m training, too.” Although you agree, a pang of jealousy is the only thing his words inspire. Of the skaters on your team that are preparing to compete as you speak. That have already choreographed their routines and selected their music and are spending every waking moment perfecting each and every detail of their program. 

It’s hard. It’s brutal. You’d be the first to admit that. But you miss it all the same, so much it hurts. 

A moment passes before he continues. “Well, anyway, Jungwon, Niki, and I were thinking that since none of us are training right now, we should celebrate the end of the semester like everyone else does.”

You arch a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “Consider this your formal invitation to get absolutely shitfaced with us next Friday.”

The laugh that bubbles in your throat is so unexpected you can’t quite bite it back. While you have your fair share of good, old-fashioned fun, he’s right. Every other semester, you’ve celebrated the end of finals season with a cup of hot tea and an early night in bed. Traded one source of stress for another as you woke up bright and early the next day to hit the ice. 

You send him a smile, tossing the medicine ball back in his direction. “Count me in.”

…

The following Friday night finds you double-checking the address on your phone before tentatively knocking on the front door of what you hope is Jake’s apartment. In the middle of the university district across the city from your own, you can’t say you’re familiar with any of the buildings outside of the athletic complex, which you’ve only ever visited for a handful of competitions. It strikes you then that this is also the university Sunghoon attends. And, stomach dropping, that you never actually asked who all would be attending tonight.

Before you have the chance to spin on your heel and high-tail it down the stairs you just climbed, the door swings open. It’s not Jake. 

“Oh,” you mumble. The boy who opened the door is not Jake, but he is very much attractive. “Sorry. I’m looking for Jake Sim’s apartment.” Your voice turns up at the end like a question. 

“You’re in the right place,” he smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m Heeseung, Jake’s roommate. You must be ___.” He opens the door wider, allowing you space. “Come on in.”

“That’s me.” You offer him a grateful smile as you enter, hanging your coat and sliding your shoes off. 

The interior is surprisingly sophisticated, for a college boy’s apartment. It’s clean, for starters, and as you follow Heeseung down the hallway towards the kitchen, you can’t help but be impressed by their choice in decor. 

“Help yourself to anything.” Heeseung gestures to the impressive spread of snacks on the table. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Um…” Your lack of alcohol-related knowledge is apparent, and the uncertainty must be obvious, because Heeseung just smiles again. 

“I’ve got you.” There’s an undertone of something in his words. Something playful, something bordering on flirty. But it’s too subtle to tell for sure, and you’re not one to bet on losing odds. He reaches for a glass and a handful of ice cubes. “Do you like fruity flavors?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That sounds good.” Besides, it’s been a minute since you’ve been well and truly flirted with at a college party by a boy that looks like he could spell trouble in his sleep. This could be fun, you think.  

Glancing towards the adjacent living room, you notice the usual familiar faces. Jake and Niki are sitting on the couch while Jungwon chats with a boy you don’t recognize. Eyes tracing the perimeter, you feel your shoulders tense when they land on a familiar silhouette. Sunghoon has his back to you, but his identity is just as unmistakable as it was on your first day of physical therapy. Like Jungwon, he’s talking to another person you don’t know. 

Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now and too early to make an exit. If you and Sunghoon can coexist in a room once a week without starting too many fires, you’re sure you’ll manage to get through tonight just fine. 

Heeseung hands you a full glass. It’s cold where it meets your fingertips. 

“Should we join them?” He inclines his head toward the living room and you nod. 

Following in his footsteps, you wave a quick greeting to Jake before taking a seat next to Heeseung, enough space between you and Sunghoon for you to relax slightly.

“How do you and Jake know each other?” You ask, searching for something to fill the silence, to keep the conversation flowing. “Do you play soccer together?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since elementary school. But I am on the basketball team, which helps. I feel like student athletes just kind of get each other, you know?”

You do know, and you tell him as much. The crazy schedule, the unwavering commitment. It’s much easier to explain to someone that’s living through the exact same thing. 

“Speaking of which, you’re a figure skater, right? For the university across town.”

You arch a brow. “I’m surprised Jake told you so much about me.”

“Not nearly enough,” he flirts, and this time it’s blatant. 

You take another sip of your drink with upturned lips, weighing a response on your tongue. Before you can decide how many cards you’d like to show, you make eye contact across the room with the one person you were hoping to avoid. 

Sunghoon looks equally—scratch that—even more displeased to see you. Jawline so taught you could cut your finger on it and lips drawn in a straight line, he’s pissed where he locks eyes with you from his seat. Sunghoon is the one to avert his eyes first. Throwing back whatever’s in his cup, he slices through the moment of tension with a knife. 

If Heeseung notices the way your breath splutters, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, Jungwon chooses the next moment to say his hellos and introduce you to the boys you hadn’t recognized earlier. 

“Sunoo,” he nods towards the boy he’d been sitting with earlier, who offers a friendly greeting. “And that’s Jay, over by Sunghoon. And you’ve already met Heeseung.”

“And you all go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Jay and I live together, and Sunoo is Niki’s roommate.”

“You’re deep in enemy territory,” Heeseung elbows you lightly, teasing. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You lift your now empty glass towards him, grinning. “Get me another drink, hopefully.”

Sending you a wink, he takes the glass from your outstretched hand before standing from the couch. “On it.” You watch his back retreat into the kitchen, oblivious of the second one that follows it a handful of moments later. 

Jay, as it turns out, is not an athlete, but does play guitar for a local  band your friend has been raving to you about for ages. He’s already promising you two sets of complimentary tickets to every one of their upcoming shows by the time you realize Heeseung’s been gone for a while. Too long. 

Excusing yourself, you head toward the kitchen. And it’s just your luck that you find the person you’ve spent the evening avoiding, instead of the one you’re searching for. Even with the buzz of your first drink fading rapidly, your inhibitions are feeling low. 

Sunghoon barely has the chance to register your presence before you’re laying out accusations. 

“I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to spend the whole night glaring at me like that? In front of everyone?”

Sunghoon’s shoulders tense, a confirmation that he hears you, but he says nothing. Instead, he just swallows the remainder of his drink in one large gulp. His eyes are still flaring, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you did something to piss him off. 

But it’s just like him, to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have with the end of another drink. To treat you like someone not even worthy of a response. You don’t know why you expected anything different. Scoffing, you notice the full drink sitting on the counter. Heeseung must have had the chance to refill it before disappearing. 

You move to step around Sunghoon and reach for it when he finally says, “I’m not glaring at you.”

The gaze you level him with is incredulous. “Do you think I’m stupid? I have eyes—”

“For all I know you are stupid!” Sunghoon sighs, drags an open palm down the length of his face. “I mean, are you really gonna let some guy you just met pour your drinks all night?”

“Heeseung?” You’re confused why all of his rage seems to be directed towards something so insignificant. “He’s Jake’s roommate”

“And a complete stranger to you.”

It’s infuriating, the way he assumes his opinion should hold any weight in your life. The way he thinks he has any say in your decisions. “So should I avoid all the food now too?” You’re being petty now for the sake of it. “I mean, since you’ve been in here unsupervised for quite a while now.” You take another step towards your drink and he moves, blocking your path with his body. 

When you look up, you find his eyes already trained on you, and there’s no ice in them now. Just pure, unadulterated heat. Fire. Flames that lick the base of your spine. “You’re so fucking agitating, you know that?”

“I’m agitating?” You take another step forward, hoping the proximity will force him away. It doesn’t. If anything, he leans into it. Into you. 

You reach for the drink again. This time, he stops you himself. Fingers of his unrestricted hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Yeah.” His words are low, voice a caress even as it drips venom. You feel his breath ghost across your cheekbone. “Real fucking agitating.”

Your eyes are still locked on his, and you search them for a hint of something coherent, something that makes sense. Every bone in your body drawn taught, it’s as if muscle memory reverts you to the last moment you were like this, the last moment he held you this close, body entwined with his own in a familiar embrace. Your wrist slackens in his grasp. 

Last time, he dropped you. Sent you scattering across ice until the only thing you could taste was the bitterness of defeat and the sharp sting of humiliation. 

Last time, he let you fall. 

You have no idea what he’ll do now. 

In the end, it’s the sound of approaching footsteps that has the two of you springing apart, your wrist falling from his grip. In the scramble, you remember your original target. 

Despite the long melted ice, this drink feels even cooler in your grip, a stark contrast to the simmering heat just beneath your skin. 

When Heeseung enters, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I had to take a call. My brother gets chatty at the worst times.” Nodding to your hand, he smiles, “You found your drink.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You take a step closer to the living room, closer to Heeseung. Further from Sunghoon. 

Glancing between the two of you, there’s a hint of uncertainty when Heeseung asks if you want to rejoin the others in the living room. 

You put his worries to ease and your questions to rest when you agree easily, not even bothering to give Sunghoon a second thought. 

You do seek his gaze one last time, though, before you follow Heeseung back to the party. Looking directly at him, you raise your glass in a mock toast. Without breaking eye contact, you bring the cup to your lips, swallowing half the drink in one long sip. When you do finally turn away, it’s to find the empty seat next to Heeseung. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant blur, trading stories and laughs with the people around you while Heeseung keeps the seat at your side warm. Sunghoon does you the favor of disappearing from sight after your stand off in the kitchen.

It’s easy to relax into the company of everyone else, so much so that you don’t see Sunoo until you’re running right into him, the contents of his cup saturating the front of your shirt. 

It’s a problem Heeseung is quick to solve, and the gray hoodie he offers you is cozier than any of your own with a scent that’s almost addicting. 

He’s sweet, you think. Sweet and charming and forward in all of the right ways. It’s solidified when he offers to join you on the porch when you tell him you’re stepping outside for some fresh air. It’s cemented when he accepts your refusal with nothing but a smile and the request that you “come back quick.”

Stepping outside, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re not alone. It would appear that your earlier assumption that Sunghoon must have gone back to his place was wrong. There’s no drink in his hand, but the way he sways with the gentle midnight breeze makes you think he’s still working through everything he downed earlier. 

Silently, you glance up at the cloudless night sky, at the way the stars seem to wrap around you. Gaze returning to Sunghoon’s back, you suppose the simplest course of action would be to leave before he realizes you’re here. You turn to do just that, to make good on your promise to Heesung, when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

Or at least, you think that’s what he says. It’s hard to tell, with the way his syllables and sounds slur together. Turning back towards him, you find him already looking at you. He repeats your name, and this time around, it’s a bit clearer. 

His eyes trace a downward line from your face to your change in clothes. Something in his face crumples, withers. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurs, words not lining up quite right through the inebriation. 

“What?”

“That day.” The sudden onset of sincerity in his tone makes him seem more sober than he is. “I should have caught you.”

The stars in the sky suddenly don’t seem so far away. You must have heard him wrong. A crease forms between your eyebrows, eyes scanning over his features. They’re laid open in their honesty, no trace of deception. 

“I wanted to catch you. I tried to.” He sighs. “Was my fault.”

“I…” You search for words, for the vindication you’d always imagined you’d feel at his admission. In its absence, you find only confusion and an odd pang of regret. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Sorry for what? Why are you bringing that up?”

He just shakes his head, eyes falling to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Like a broken record. His pain is wrapped up in there too, trapped in a loop time has never quite let it escape. 

When you return to the party, it’s with a jumbled excuse of needing to check on a pet cat you don’t have. 

In the haste of it all, you forget to so much as exchange numbers with Heeseung. But you do find the time to pull Jake aside on your way out the door, to make sure that he helps Sunghoon get home safe. 

…

The next morning greets you with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. It takes a moment of searching through hazy memories before recollection of that particular string of events finds you. 

With a sigh, you head out in search of water and Advil, sending Jake a quick message that you’ll stop by his apartment later to return Heeseung’s hoodie. 

Even a handful of hours later, you can’t decide if you hope Heeseung is home or not. It’s a Saturday afternoon after a long night, so you figure the odds are high. But you still can’t pinpoint whether that feeling in your gut is excitement or dread. 

In an effort to delay the inevitable, you take a detour before visiting Jake’s apartment again. Your rival university’s sports complex is just as nice as you remember it, large, pristine buildings that hold everything an athletics department could dream of. Fondly, you remember the first time you skated in this stadium, back in middle school. It had felt so big, then, so special, to be skating for such a large crowd. 

It felt even more special to be sharing the ice with someone who put dreams in your head and butterflies in your stomach. Still fairly new to pair skating, the two of you had put on a program with a less than favorable amount of deduction. 

But still. It was yours. It was special. It was shared. 

You wonder if he knew then, that one day he would be the reigning king of this very same rink. 

Probably, you think. Park Sunghoon never had the habit of letting things feel impossible. 

Looking down at the boot on your foot, you miss it, all of it, all at once. The late nights. The early mornings. The bruises and cuts and aching muscles. The determination after defeat. The elation after glory. The feeling of flying every time blade touches ice. 

The sign posted next to the stadium is an advertisement, a reminder, of the upcoming regional championships. There’s a pang of loss, a moment of grief, for your program that will have to wait for next year. 

But your x-rays are coming back better every time, and Dr. Kim is sure you’ll be back on the ice by the time spring comes. 

For the first time in a long time, you think it’ll be okay. You know you’ll be okay.  

In front of you, the stadium door opens, and you realize you’re standing right in front of the exit. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly moving to get out of the way, but then you take a closer look. “Coach Kang?” you ask, just as she says your name with the same air of disbelief. 

It’s an odd feeling of synchronicity, to stumble into your childhood skating coach just as you’re reminiscing on the past. 

“It’s been so long,” she beams, pulling you in for a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

“Coaches’ meeting,” she explains. “Trying to see if I can get some of my junior skaters in to watch a few practices before regionals.” Nudging you with her shoulder, she adds, “Speaking of which, how’s your program coming along? Are you getting excited?”

You shake your head. “I’m actually off the ice for this one.” Glancing down, you lift your booted foot in explanation. “Ankle fracture has me out for the rest of the season.”

“Oh, no.” Coach Kang places a consolatory hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”

“It’s okay, actually.” You don’t know who’s more surprised, her at your admission, or you at the fact that you actually mean it. “Everything is healing up nicely, so I’m looking forward to an even better program next year.” 

“Well look at you, all grown up.” She smiles. “I can say that thirteen-year-old you would not have had such a good attitude about it. Honestly, I’m surprised a fracture was enough to stop you. You were always so stubborn about things. You and Sunghoon.” She lets out a short laugh as your shoulders tense at the mention of him. “I was just thinking about you two the other day, actually. We had a skater fracture his tailbone and argue until he was blue in the face that he still wanted to compete.” Shaking her head, she adds, “It reminded me of that time Sunghoon insisted on skating even though he’d just sprained his wrist.” She shakes her head again, releases a small laugh. “Never could keep you two off the ice.”

It all checks out, the stubbornness, the determination even when it was stupid. But you’re hung up on one detail. You’re sure you could list every one of Sunghoon’s skating injuries just as thoroughly as he could. But before the current one, you can’t recall any wrist injuries. “What? When did he sprain his wrist?” 

Coach Kang waves her hand flippantly, like the sinking feeling in your gut isn’t intensifying with every passing moment, like she isn’t about to confirm a realization you’re already dreading. “Oh, you remember. It was just a few days before nationals that one year.”

That one year. She skirts around it, for your sake probably. But you know exactly what she means, when she’s referring to. 

And suddenly, you’re falling through air again, plummeting towards ice as a hand makes a desperate attempt to catch you. As sheer will alone is no match for injury weakened bones and ligaments and muscles. As you’re sliding across frozen ground and he’s gripping his wrist with pain on his face and terror in his eyes. 

As your head spins, spots clouding your vision from the force of the impact. Before the world goes black, your eyes search for him. 

And in those last few moments of consciousness, you watch as his mouth moves to form words you can’t hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

…

Raising your fist, you pound at the door again. One, two, three times. At this rate, your knuckles will be bloody before you get a response. 

But before you can start your assault on the wood in front of you again, the door swings open slowly, revealing a familiar frame. 

“You absolute idiot.”

“Well hello to you too.” Rubbing at his eyes, you appear to have just woken him from a nap. If his head is feeling anything like yours was this morning, you almost feel sorry. 

But there are more pressing matters at hand. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

“That you sprained your wrist three days before nationals? That you skated anyway? That you attempted to catch a person quite literally spinning through the air with a wrist injury?”

A beat of silence passes. 

And then another. 

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?” There’s fire in your eyes, an anger that’s directed towards him but not in the ways he’s used to. 

He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your features for another beat. Finally, he sighs. “Would you have let me skate if I did?”

It’s not the answer you expect. And it’s just like him, to answer a question with one of his own. “I… what?”

“You heard me.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Would you have let me get on the ice if you knew I was hurt?”

And what is it, him and his habit of asking ridiculous questions like they don’t have obvious answers. “What kind of question is that? Of course not. No one in their right mind would have let you do that program with a wrist sprain, much less your partner. And I love Coach Kang, but I’m about to file a negligence suit against her, because what the hell kind of—”

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, and you’re still getting used to the way apologies sound on his lips. “That came out wrong. What I was trying to say was that you… Well, I… I mean…” He trails off for the third time, casts a tentative look at the way your eyebrows only raise higher and higher every time he stops a train of thought in its tracks. His gaze falls down, somewhere between your nose and chin. An exhale passes through parted lips. Something in his resolve slips. “Oh, fuck it.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

Lips against lips and hands in your hair. It’s messy and awkward, and you can’t quite get the timing right. 

Sunghoon pulls back a fraction of an inch, catching his breath and letting you do the same. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s heat in his eyes and fondness too, a soft sort of expression that only melts further every time he looks at you. But now there’s anxiety in the mix, a crippling fear that he’s misjudged everything entirely, done something horribly wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Before today, you could count his apologies on one hand. Now, you’re running out of fingers. “Did you not want—”

This time, it’s you that pulls him down, hands lacing around the nape of his neck, exhaling a soft sigh against parted lips that sends his mind spinning. 

And it’s only the second time, but it’s already better. Already a natural rhythm that the two of you seem to fall into with a little more grace. 

The expanse of his door is cold against your back when Sunghoon finally pulls you into his apartment using his good hand, and he’s a quick study. Attempt number three is an even greater improvement as hands search for new skin to discover and things start to fall into place, one at a time. 

Reaching for Heeseung’s forgotten hoodie, Sunghoon breaks the kiss only to toss it somewhere outside your current plane of existence. In this moment, you exist only within the space the two of you occupy, everything else an afterthought. 

And you have the feeling attempt number four will be your best yet. 

…

epilogue

“Are you ever gonna join me or do I just have to stay out here looking stupid forever?”

You don’t even take a moment to consider. “The second one.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon pleads, skating back towards you where you remain planted firmly to the bench on the perimeter of the rink. He moves towards you with a grace that used to inspire a raging, stomping green monster of envy. Now, you just admire the way he cuts across the ice with the agility of a dancer. “It’s fun out here, I promise.”

Avoiding his gaze, you let your eyes fall to your feet instead. They’re already laced up in your favorite pair of skates, black boot all but forgotten since you had it removed at your last visit to Dr. Min’s office. Since he gave you the green light to return to the thing you love most. 

You had been ecstatic then. Brimming with so much extra energy Sunghoon had to physically intervene to prevent you from accidentally knocking over an elderly lady on your way out of the hospital. But now, with the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for long, hard months at your fingertips, something in you hesitates. 

Sunghoon says your name, and suddenly he’s serious. “This is all you’ve been talking about for months.” Sliding down onto his knees in front of you, you’re suddenly at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He casts a doubtful glance. “Really, I just…” It’s hard, to speak your fears into existence, to let them take flight. Even if the boy in front of you makes it a little easier. “What if it’s not what I imagined?”

It’s a million little worries wrapped up in one. What if your ankle isn’t the same? What if it’s never the same? What if you’re not as good as you were? What if you’re not good enough? 

Sunghoon hears them all, and puts them to rest with a smile, a gentle touch as he rests his forehead against yours. “You and that big brain. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“Hey! I—”

“It won’t be what you imagined.” He draws back a few inches, and your eyes have nowhere to land but on his own. “It will be different. It will feel weird, and your legs will feel wobbly, your muscles will feel weak, and your ankle might give out.”

Your lips flatten into a thin line. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Sunghoon just pinches your cheeks together, forcing your lips to purse. “So you’ll show up. Over and over again. Every day until your skates start to feel like a second pair of feet and the ice starts to feel like home again. Until your ankle and your muscles and your stamina are all built back up, in a way that’s different from before but will feel familiar before you know it.” He presses a single, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. “Until I’m dragging you off the ice instead of onto it, because your boyfriend needs attention and is feeling a little jealous of all the time you’re spending here instead of with him.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so needy. It’s gross.”

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

This time, when he gets back on his feet and extends a hand, you take it. You follow him onto the ice and headfirst towards your insecurities feeling a little bit like a newborn deer, a bike without its training wheels. 

He laughs when you stumble and brushes hair out of your face when you pout. 

After an hour, you’re already feeling more solid than before. After two, that feeling of flying is starting to return. 

It’s somewhere just before hour three when Sunghoon says, “Remember how I told you earlier that you’re worrying about the wrong things?”

“Yeah.” You drag the word out slowly, not liking the hint of deviousness in his sudden grin. 

“This is what I was talking about. Instead of worrying about getting back on the ice, you should be worrying about how long it will take you to be able to beat me on a lap around the rink.”

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs. 

…

outtake—five years ago. 

Sunghoon’s vision is blurry. It’s a terrible combination of things—the exhilaration of the spotlight, the pain in his wrist, the grief of an egregious error. The sudden onset of tears that sting in the corners of his eyes and fall without his permission. 

Despite all of it, he finds his way back to his dressing room. Choking back a sob, he reaches for the glass of water he’d left out earlier. It tastes acidic on his tongue, burns like regret on the way down. 

Stupid, he was so stupid. His hands tangle in his hair. He wants to pull it out. Wants to scream until his throat is raw and he can’t anymore. 

It was a terrible enough decision to gamble his own fate on an unhealed injury, but as the reality of the situation comes crashing down around him, he realizes he’s done something much worse. 

Eyes open, eyes closed. It doesn’t matter. All he can see is you, sprawled out on ice, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes dazed at the impact. 

The unexpected impact. Because you trusted him. You trusted him so much that of course you’d never considered what you would do if his hands failed, if his wrist gave out. If he decided to risk your program, your fate, you, all on a whim, on an inflated sense of self-importance and a lack of regard for the injury he was so certain he could power through. 

He couldn’t imagine it, three days ago. Telling you that he was injured, that he couldn’t skate the program. He couldn’t imagine watching as the features he bashfully considered so, painfully pretty twisted into disappointment. Into anger. 

So he turned his shame into resolve, into determination. One that allowed him to catch you with a fractured wrist in every practice run. Every time, except for the time that mattered. Biting back grimaces and cries of pain all for the fool’s hope of seeing you smile in a few days’ time, a gold medal around your neck. 

Instead, he got to see you spinning through the air, slipping through his fingers, landing with a sickening thud. He wants to ask what hospital they took you to, wants to ignore the pain in his wrist a little longer and run there himself, just to make sure that you’re okay.

But then he imagines the way you’ll look at him when you see him. The way all that disappointment and anger he’d wanted to avoid so desperately will surely be all you have to offer him. 

He understands. He does. He wouldn’t want to see him either. 

Turning away from the mirror, he tucks away his shame for the future. But that only leaves his gaze landing on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. The one he’d spent nearly an hour agonizing over, the one his mother had assured him a dozen times you would love. The one he made sure had all of your favorite colors. 

He snuck his own favorite in there too, in hopes of what exactly he can’t be sure, but he knows he likes the way they look together—your favorite color and the deep blue irises that represent his own. 

It seems so stupid now. After everything, after this, he can’t imagine you want his flowers, and even less his favorite color. He can’t imagine that you want anything to do with him. 

So he doesn’t seek you out. Not in the hospital that day, not when you’re cleared to practice and back on the ice again, not when chance has the two of you colliding five long years later. 

Not until he watches you walk away from him with all that anger and resentment and disappointment he’s been so avoiding for so long. Not until it strikes him in the face and he realizes that he can’t live with it, can’t let bygones be bygones and hope time and the absence of him in your life have healed you for the better when it still hurts to even look at you. 

On a dressing room table, five years in the past, a bouquet of flowers wilts. 

And Sunghoon learns that with love and patience and a little bit of sunlight, beautiful things, even the fragile ones, bloom when you water them.