my little prince(s)

He stops lamenting by himself, and begins ranting to Jongin who, at some point, joins him at his table and begins helping himself to the chicken as well.

“My old man’s gonna kill me if he finds out I failed bio,” the boy grieves.

Jongin hums, responding over his chewing. “Yeah– well, you fucked up the first exam when you ditched studying to go to that music festival.”

“Fuck off,” the other bites back. “I did study...just– not enough.”

“Good luck explaining that to Doctor Oh,” Jongin says, emphasizing the doctor, but it wasn’t anything you– or the whole student body– didn’t already know.

“Hey,” you hear your own voice saying. Sehun turns around. When did you tap him on his shoulder? “Uh, I can share my notes with you, or help you study, if you want,” you mumbled.

Sehun squints at you for a moment as if debating or wondering if this opportunity was too good to be true. You’re the girl in his class who always scores the highest, and from what he knows, you’re the only person on campus who’s riding on a full scholarship.

You’re getting anxious under his sharp, judge-y set of eyes, and his raven brows frowning the same way he does his lips makes you want to retract your offer.

“Or not,” you mutter while mentally cursing yourself.

You turn around in your seat, and the two guys go quiet after that. You have half a mind to walk out to save yourself from the embarrassment, but then the tall and raven-haired boy suddenly slides into the seat in front of you.

“What’s the catch?” He questions.

“Uh,” you startle intelligently. “There’s no catch, unless you want to– I don’t know, buy me coffee?”

Without missing a beat, he retorts, “You saying you want me to take you out?” The tone of his voice is derisive but the countenance on his face shows amusement.

“What– no! Don’t you know that coffee is the universal currency for college students?”

Sehun smirks– of course he does; what did you expect? For Oh Sehun to humble himself into thinking he was the least bit like you?

“Seriously, what’s the catch?” He pushes.

You roll your eyes. “Y’know I have better things to do than spend my time tutoring you–”

“Exactly,” he snaps back. “So, what’s in it for you that you’re oh-so graciously offering to help me?”

Wow, is this guy always like this?

Now, you’re getting mad, and offended by his accusation and egotism. You’re both staring down one another, the tension thick and uncomfortable in the air, until he finally breaks it, saying, “Fine, you’ve convinced me.”

“So,” Chanyeol started. “My friend hooked me up with a gig this weekend. I’m thinking about inviting my partner. Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?” He listed off as you’re both closing for the night. You’re closing out the register while Chanyeol stacked the chairs and swept the floor. 

“Give me a sec. You know better than to talk to me while I’m counting, Yeol,” you grumbled, finishing off your till five minutes later. “Okay, what’s up?” 

“I’m looking at this opportunity to show off my music a little, ya know? Plus, she’s also been more responsive, less edgy. Do you think she’ll agree to go?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to ask.” You offered. “Where’s this again?” 

“A pretty popular club among the kids at uni actually, called Love Shot,” he said. “You heard of it?” 

You racked through your head at the familiar name, and you finally realize that it was the club that Sehun worked at. 

“Yeah,” you said, nonchalantly before adding, “Went there for a party once.” 

Chanyeol stopped sweeping all together and looked at you as if you had five heads growing out of your neck. “Wait, you went to a party? At a club?” He half asked, half accused, and you almost got offended by his tone of voice, when he added, “And I wasn’t invited?” 

You reddened at the realization at how pathetic you must look to other people when you’ve quite successfully hermit yourself from social events, to the point that even Chanyeol finds it unbelievable. “Whatever, Yeol, that isn’t important right now. We’re talking about you.” 

“Nu-uh, this changes things. I wasn’t gonna pressure you to come because I know how you are,” you frown deeply at that, to which Chanyeol only points a knowing brow at you. “But, now you have to come, Y/N. You could wing-man me!” He exclaimed as if it was the most ingenious idea he had ever manifested. 

“First of all, I don’t know the first thing about wingmanning, you don’t want me to wingman-- or is it wingwoman? you, dude.” You quickly objected to the idea flat out. You could just see it now, you trying to hype Chanyeol and inadvertently making him look stupid instead(not that he doesn’t play part in that himself alone), and by the end of it, you’ll probably make a fool of yourself by trying to rectify what was never there to begin with. 

“Please, Y/N,” he begged. “I want you there when I perform some of my new stuff.”

Chanyeol tried persuading you to go watch him perform at Love Shot for the remainder of the night until you finally relented. You don’t really even know why you’re so hesitant on going, but thinking about the night of Jongdae’s birthday makes your stomach churn anxiously. 

“Shit, it’s raining,” Chanyeol said when you’ve both clocked out. He nudged you with an elbow, saying, “Let’s go, I’ll drive you home.” 

Chanyeol drove a Jeep, one that you find very difficult to get in and out of, but you suppose a free ride home was better than getting caught in the rain. 

“You wanna come up? I could make something for us to eat?” You offered when nearing your apartment. 

“Sure,” Chanyeol shrugged, claiming anything was better than cereal for dinner. He parked his Jeep in the allotted spot for your unit and cut the engine while you’re pulling your hood over your head for the oncoming rain. “Wanna race?” 

“You could run, but you’ll slip and end up hurting yourself.” You chortled, imagining his lumber worth of limbs flailing in the air. Chanyeol ends up half walking, half jogging, heeding your warning as an afterthought than anything else. 

While you’re searching for your keys in your purse, footsteps coming up the stairs and voices belonging to young men echoes through the hall. It was Sehun, and he had friends with him--one of which you’ve met before in passing when he had dropped by Sehun’s place while you were also over(for only 5 minutes as you had to use his printer because yours had jammed). 

“Oh, it’s you again,” the guy aforementioned spoke, greeting you brightly afterwards. You returned the greeting, ever as awkward, shooting a less stiff one to Sehun as well while he returned a thoughtful look that had your cheeks warming. 

“Hi, I’m Baekhyun,” he said, thrusting a hand forward for Chanyeol to take.

“Park Chanyeol,” he replied, voice booming loudly, though not unkindly. 

The other man seemed familiar, and you realized after a closer look, it was the other bartender you saw the night of Jongdae’s birthday; he introduces himself as Kim Jongin. 

“Did you just get off?” It was Sehun who asked the question that was directed towards you. You nodded, characteristically shy from the attention of both Sehun and his friends. 

Something suddenly clicked in Chanyeol’s head then-- you distinctly recognize the spark that flashes across his pupils-- and you think absolutely nothing good could come from whatever he has working in his head. 

“We just got off; we work together. And you are?” Chanyeol questioned, tone nosy and maybe a tad bit menacing, but maybe it was because you knew him better. Sehun, having gone quieter than usual, simply tells him his name with no further insertion that would’ve qualmed Chanyeol’s brewing curiosity. 

“What a coincidence, these two work together, too,” Baekhyun said, gesturing towards Sehun and Jongin, and because Chanyeol felt like conjuring his inner Holmes, he inquired the said place in which the two--

“Awe fuck,” you thought, brain finally catching up with Chanyeol’s, and with the help of Baekhyun, Chanyeol’s formless scheme began taking shape. 

“No shit,” Chanyeol said, stretching out the first word as he turns to you with a sadistic almost-grin. You glared at him, attempting not to wear the anxiety on your face that could possibly, wordlessly confirm his suspicions that might or might not have already gone too far into his head. Chanyeol doesn’t mind your silent pleas to shut up. 

As the silent(and painful, for you) interaction between you and Chanyeol transpired, the three male stared, perplexed by the whole ordeal; one man in particular being more bothered by it than the rest. 

Sehun hadn’t expected you to talk about him to your friends or anything(even though he does to his’), but he’d be lying if the revelation didn’t strike him as surprising, or made him a tad bit upset. 

“Is something wrong?” Baekhyun eventually asked with a wry smile, breaking the tension between you and Chanyeol . 

Chanyeol promptly turned to them, slapping on his wide and creepy smile as he explained, “Y/N gets moody when she’s hungry, and she’s supposed to be making us food right about now.” They laughed hesitantly, not quite sure what to make of Chanyeol’s statement, until Sehun spoke up. 

“Don’t let us keep you, then.” Sehun nodded curtly, and without further ado, marched into his apartment with Baekhyun and Jongin following. Once they were out of sight, Chanyeol steered you into your own unit, muttering, “Guess I’m staying a little later than planned.” 

-

The week goes by bizarrely quick, what with Chanyeol’s constant tormenting through work and text. After that night, according to him, Sehun was your secret boyfriend whom you’ve been hiding, which was absolutely ridiculous, and you never failed to reject the notion every single time it was brought up. 

Thu 15:21 delivered 

‘Stop. Tagging. Me. In’

15:22 delivered

‘Relationship memes.’

Yeol Thu 15:24 received 

‘im being supportive’

‘its ur first relationship after all’

Chanyeol sent with the stupid face emoji blowing in a tissue attached to his message.

Thu 15:25 delivered

‘im blocking u’

In a blink of an eye, the weekend was at your doorstep. You spent over half an hour agonizing over what to wear, fumbled with your scant collection of makeup only to end up with a few strokes here and there to brighten your dull complexion and to open up your eyes from the evident lack of sleep, and in the end, you looked...decent. 

Suddenly, your phone dinged from across the room where it was charging. Chanyeol was reminding you that he was going on at 9pm, and also telling you how nervous he was because he just saw Eun walk in. 

20:24 delivered 

‘go say hi to her!!’

Yeol 20:25 received

‘GOING’

‘pray i don’t choke’

You grinned, sending him all the luck in the universe so that he doesn’t make a fool of himself. He’s worried about nothing, you thought, for Chanyeol was a kind, thoughtful, and humble guy, not that you’d ever tell him that yourself. Likewise, you’d like to think that he saw the good in you, despite it being so difficult for those qualities to reflect in your eyes, and it was why your friendship was so easy. 

As you’re walking out, your phone dinged again. It wasn’t from Chanyeol, but Sehun instead. 

Sehun 20:34 received

‘Hey, did I just see your friend at loveshot?’

‘Chanyeol? I think’

20:34 delivered

‘yeah, he said he’s performing there tonight’

You debated adding the fact that you were heading there right then, when suddenly, you contemplated your state of emotions, whether you were excited or anxious to see Sehun again, at Loveshot no less. It was certainly out of your comfort zone, hence the anxiety that bubbled away in your stomach, but Sehun was familiar now and Chanyeol’s a close friend, so it shouldn’t be that terrible. Right? 

Sehun didn’t reply immediately, to which you assumed was due to the fact that he was presently on duty. You arrived shortly after, seeing a decent sized queue outside of the club. You were about to shoot a text to Chanyeol to let him know you’d arrived when two messages came in at the same time. 

Yeol 20:52 received

‘U here yet?’

Sehun 20:52 received

‘does that mean i’ll see you tonight?’

Ignoring the latter message that short circuited your mind for a second, you responded to Chanyeol’s, and not two minutes later, he emerged from the club’s entrance, peeking around the crowd for your small stature. 

“Y/N!” He beckoned you over, whispered something to the bouncer’s ear, and you’re both walking back into the lively albeit dim space before you knew it. Chanyeol’s looking the best you had ever seen him; dressed to the nines in his dark denim over white graphic hoodie, paired with ripped, black jeans and chains draped along his right thigh, you think that this Eun girl would be a fool if she couldn’t see his efforts to impress her when Chanyeol lives in essentially five different hoodies. 

“I’m actually shocked that you made it, was sort of expecting you to flake last minute,” Chanyeol said, giving your outfit a subtle once-over and grinning when you rolled your eyes at him. You’re wearing a tight-fitting tank top, one that has lace edging the bust and cropped to your midriff, and to cover up from the cold, you wore a cropped black puffer jacket. Your bottom’s a pair of black high waisted jeans, the slightly flared at the ankles making you look longer than you really are especially with your ankle boots. 

“But then again, your secret boyfriend is working tonight, so maybe you’re really here for him, who knows,” he smirked with mirth swimming in his eyes. At that, you remembered Sehun’s message, its implications bringing warmth to your cheeks.

You shoved the tall idiot with an elbow, though it does little to affect him. He’s cackling to himself stupidly all the way until you both reach the bar, a destination you hadn’t noticed you were even heading towards, not with how Chanyeol’s dumb teasing had distracted you, making your cheeks flushed and heart race for nothing. Subtly, you scanned the vicinity for Sehun but spotted him nowhere in sight.

It was Jongin instead that took notice of you first. “Hey, it’s you again,” he said, voice throaty and silvery at the same time. The tone could easily be menacing had it not been for the kindness floating in his orbs or the disarming half-smile he gives you, as if he knew something that you didn’t. 

You managed a polite smile in response before Chanyeol abruptly pushed on your shoulders, forcefully planting you on one of the chairs, directly in front of the bar.

“I’m gonna head up now,” he tells you. “Get yourself comfortable before I introduce you to Eun later, cool?” 

Letting go of your petty bickering for a moment, you gave his forearms a placatory squeeze while wishing him good luck and off he went. 

“Can I grab you something to drink?” Jongin asked when Chanyeol was out of sight. You told him the same thing you told Sehun last time, giving him the freedom to choose for you. 

“Sehun’s slacking off somewhere,” Jongin said suddenly, distracting you from watching Chanyeol as he introduced himself. You clapped along with the crowd, though your brain had separated itself and you could only respond to Jongin with a questioning look. What made him think you were looking for Sehun? 

“Oh,” he exclaimed, staring over your right shoulder. “Speaking of the devil.” 

Sehun ignored the other boy all together, only looking at you as he spoke. “Hey, you never answered my text.” You turned to face him, his expression at first hard then gradually dissolving into something softer the longer he stared at you; he was in his uniform again, minus the velvet bow tie and plaid vest that you assume was specially worn for Jongdae’s birthday event. Even with just the striped button down, a few buttons undone from the top, he managed to garner more looks than you could’ve imagine. His arm goes to prop himself on the countertop as he leaned closer to you since his height was towering over you and glaringly so. You caught a whiff of his scent as you breathed in, attempting to calm your nerves, but laced with the familiar seaside breeze came the all too familiar acrid smell of cigarettes. It was nowhere near the stench that clung to your father’s breath, clothes, and skin, but the effect was there nonetheless.

“Y/N?” Sehun had repeated your name twice before you realized where you were, who he was, and how far you were from the past. His hand had barely grazed your arm when you snapped out of it, unknowingly with a recoil under his touch, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by both Sehun and Jongin. The former leaned in even closer, and asked in a hushed tone, “You okay?” 

Not trusting your voice, you only nodded while giving him a weak smile. “I - need to use the restroom, excuse me.” You tried to ignore Sehun’s imploring gaze on you as you got up and walked towards the direction of where the restrooms were.

“Get it together, Y/N,” you muttered under your breath as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You willed your mind to focus on something-- anything-- that was presently in front of you, needed to get a grip on reality. It felt like your brain was being dissected, that your eyes were so distanced and while out of one window you saw your reflection, pale and panic stricken, you also saw your childhood home. You saw your father sitting in his chair with a lit cigarette between his fingers, and his face looking so far gone that he doesn’t even notice you standing right in front of him.  

“Well, well,” a voice started, echoing so suddenly on the tiles of the restroom that the image of your father dissipates all together at once. “It looks like my night just got a whole lot more interesting.” 

You turned your head, finally grasping onto something real, however unfortunate it was to be no one other than Liah. You groaned internally, from the dull pain in your head or from the prospect of the upcoming headache that the girl will cause? Take a wild guess. 

“Wow, didn’t know my existence had such an influence on you. I’m flattered,” you said, face blank as ever. 

Liah clucked her tongue, looking annoyed which was no surprise to you. “Don’t be a smartass, Y/N, no one likes a smart,” she drawled. This time you outwardly rolled your eyes, turning to the mirror again as you prepare to tie up your hair. It was getting uncomfortable with how heated your skin got after your little episode. 

“But I suppose it’s an upgrade from being a coward, hmm?” She mocked sympathy as if you keeping quiet to her belittling all those years ago wasn’t a result of how miserable she made your life. 

You’re trying hard not to lose your cool because the last thing you wanted was to stir something up that frankly shouldn’t be touched. But the word coward pulsates in your ears, clinging adamantly to your memory as it digs and digs for all the names your father has called you, worser than coward. Liah doesn’t mean shit to you, not anymore, you told yourself. 

You’ve washed your hand after successfully tying up your hair; it’s messy and unruly but you tell yourself it’s a damn look, especially as you turned, once again, to stare at Liah directly in the eye, and said, “Smartass or coward, I’d rather be those than someone who feeds off of other’s weaknesses.” 

If you’d bothered to stay and watch Liah’s reaction, you would’ve seen the utter hatred within her eyes as she tried to stare you into the submission she once did. 

You headed back to the bar, thankfully unscathed, but the unwelcome trip down memory lane mired your thoughts as you tried to recomposed yourself. 

Jongin was the one who caught your approaching figure first. He nudged Sehun who was polishing a glass by his side before taking a few steps away to tend to some patrons, leaving you and Sehun alone. Well, alone as alone could be when you’re standing in the middle of a packed club. 

You plopped back on the same chair from earlier, making as little eye contact as possible with the man. 

“You’re flushed,” Sehun bluntly noted. He stopped what he was doing to really look at you. With your hair up, there’s no hiding the rosy hue painting your cheeks and ears. You’d feel too hot with it down, so you bear Sehun’s scrutiny for the moment. 

“Because it’s getting hot in here,” you said in a ‘duh’ tone. “Are you making my drink again?” 

Sehun squinted at you before deciding to drop questioning your suspicious behavior. “Do you want sex-” 

“You don’t have to say the name, y’know,” you tell him quickly, a little panicked and fully blushing. Sehun outrightly smirked and somewhere between the music playing, you imagined Jongin’s laughter. 

“Your friend’s growing a fanclub up there,” he said, starting on the drink. 

You spun in your seat to see that Chanyeol indeed has some girls fawning over him. A few more tenacious ones slid, not-so-discreetly, crumpled up napkins with what you assume to have scribbled phone numbers on them. You gave credit that Chanyeol politely declined all advances on the spot; with a boyish grin and shake of his head, no one could get mad at that. It made him appear professional, but you also didn’t miss the way he would glance at a certain someone every time it happened. 

You snort while muttering, “Way to be subtle.” 

“What was that?” Sehun voiced. 

Turning your body back around to face him again, you said, “Nothing. Just that there’s gonna be some hearts broken, is all.” 

You don’t notice the way Sehun’s grip on the tumbler becomes tighter from your words. 

Sehun, for the most part, kept you company for the night. Jongin jumped in every once in a while, and you found him to be quite the clumsy yet the most suavest guy you’d ever met. He reminded you of another tall ogre and that in itself was something that allowed you to release your inhibitions for the night. 

“Alright, alright,” you slurred, “What do you call a bear with no teeth?” 

Jongin squinted at you, seemingly deep in thought, and opened his mouth to answer but someone else had beaten him to it.  

“A gummy bear! Why’re you going around telling my jokes?” Chanyeol blurted. He took advantage of the slouched over position you were in to give you a noogie. 

“Ugh, get your crummy hands off of me,” you groaned in protest, not bothering to lift your head to glare at the man. Instead your eyes settled the girl standing next to Chanyeol. “Oh? You must be Eun.”

“And you must be Y/N,” the girl smiled, and you could’ve sworn you heard Chanyeol’s heart beat right out of his chest. She offered you her hand, and before grabbing it, you suppressed the tickle in your bloodstream. You looked more sober in that split second than you probably felt.  

“Jeez, how much did she have to drink?” Yeol asked the two tenders. 

“Not too much,” Jongin supplied. “We cut her off after she started reciting psych theories to us,” he continued, to which you sing-songed replied with, “The more you know.” 

It made Eun giggle so that’s all that mattered. She easily slid into the seat next to you, and left Chanyeol towering over behind you two. Seeing as you were getting acquainted, he excused himself to go talk “business” with the owner. 

“Don’t go trying to make yourself sound cooler than you really are, Yeol,” you reprimanded, earning a half-smirk-half-shy-grin from Eun. Jongin offered to show Chanyeol the way to the owner’s office, leaving Sehun to tend once more. You whined for another cocktail, but the man remained steady in his stance to cut you off for the night. Eun doesn’t drink, so he offers her, and yourself, some club soda instead.

Eun was surprisingly easy to talk to; her voice seemed to lull you in like a siren and you think-- it’s no wonder Chanyeol was so taken by her. You have half a mind to straightforwardly tell her, “you know--  Chanyeol’s like-- ready to bust the fattest uwu for you, right?” but then that didn’t seem quite the way to go. You snort like an idiot, stopping Eun mid-sentence. Sehun and Eun exchanged looks. 

“You okay there, darling?” It was Eun who asked you while Sehun simultaneously mumbled, “Maybe we should’ve stopped at the first drink.” 

You repeatedly tell them “no, no no it’s not that,” but “I was just thinking about how good you and Chanyeol would be - together.” 

There was a pregnant silence after that, and you realized that wow, that was a big Not-a-Good-Wingwoman thing to say. Eun looked thoroughly blindsided, and if you could see clearly enough, you would’ve seen the quirk in her lips by your honest words. You let out an indignant sound from your throat, ready to apologize for your stupidity, when Eun suddenly let out an awkward but hearty laughter. Sehun had appeared amused whereas you looked like a fish out of its bowl. 

“Thank you, for saying that,” she smiled, making you beam in relief. You knew then that there was more to Eun than you realized. Her eyes glimmered with hope, or maybe it was apprehension, at the prospect of Chanyeol’s affection. 

Right then, Chanyeol’s voice boomed, “Alright, ladies,” startling both you and Eun. “Deal’s been sealed. You’re looking at a regular DJ of Loveshot,” he boasted, and as if you had planned it, you both rolled your eyes followed by the mandatory kudos, even by Sehun himself. 

“You girls ready to go?” Chanyeol asked. 

At the same time that Eun replied yes, you chimed, “I’m gonna stick around for a bit.” Chanyeol sent you a doubtful look, to which you fail-winked back at him while Eun wasn’t looking; he smiled, grateful at first, but then it morphed into something mischievous when he detected the man behind the bar watchful gaze on you. 

“Right then,” he echoed, then stared at Sehun when he asked, “Do you mind taking her home?”

Sehun, who had really only glanced at Chanyeol when he spoke to him, returned his eyes on you, and asked, “Do you mind waiting a bit?” 

He grinned at your sarcasm. It wasn’t often when you’d let your, as Chanyeol liked to call it, fuck-off vibe, so he noted that you were in a good mood. 

“What does a guy need to do to win over your heart?”

“My heart isn’t up for offers, Yeol. Don’t try for a second time.” You smirked. 

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “There wasn’t even a first time, Y/N. We talked about this, c’mon.” He groaned, leaning his right hip on the counter you were working on, arms crossed as he scrutinized you. Chanyeol was not a shy one. His gaze, at first, alarmed you. Having those set of wide eyes and a tenacious gaze made you uneasy, it was as if he could see right through you. After working with him for so long, you’ve learned that those clear eyes held more curiosity than harm. Although, curiosity could lead to harmful circumstances. 

“Who’s the girl?”

You beated him to the punch. It was obvious that he needed advice on whoever it was that held his interest, you just weren’t sure you’d be much of help to him. In your relatively short life, you’ve never had someone pursue you romantically. It was unheard of, you being associated with a male, nevermind it being romantic or not. It wasn’t something you pondered a lot about, at least, not until last weekend due to a certain male who lived in your building. 

“She’s in my music theory class. Senior, so you probably don’t know her.” A senior like himself, and also a music major, you deduce. “We got paired up to do a project together, but she’s…” Chanyeol trails off as he noticed the couple waving us down for their bill. 

Chanyeol settled their check and bussed the table, and returned to your side all in less than five minutes. “So, I think she hates me. Actually, scratch that. I know she hates me, and I don’t understand why. I can’t read the girl, and it’s killing me.”  

“Are you interested in her? Or just confused why a girl would reject you, the great Park Chanyeol?” 

“Watch the tone, missy. I’m still older than you.” 

“Well?” You pointed a brow at him.

Chanyeol thought for a while before deciding, “Well, she’s pretty. And smart. And she’s so talented--  that’s why I was so excited to work with her on the project! But then she got all frosty on me when I tried talking to her, and I’m confused.” 

He truly looked perplexed by the girl in question behavior. 

“I don’t know what to tell you,” you shrugged, honest and regretful. Chanyeol, though a huge dork once you got to know him, was very handsome. If this girl didn’t like Chanyeol, for whatever reason unbeknownst to you, you couldn’t help. 

Chanyeol was a music major and joined you at Jubilant a year after you started working there. He was a quick learner and even quicker at becoming one of the best servers. He held an affable vibe to him that was contagious, to the point that you found yourself tossing remarks back and forth until you established the relationship that you had now. 

“I’ll figure it out, some way or another,” he waved the matter aside. “So, what’s going on with you?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re chirpy, Y/N.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I said hi to you earlier and you replied.”

“Okay, I always say hi to you,” you retorted, hands on your hips in defense. 

“No, you just wave at me like a fly’s in your face or just grunt. You’re chirpy,” he emphasized the last word obnoxiously. 

“Shut up, Yeol.”

“What, so you got nothing for me? Not even after the juicy stuff I spilled for you?” 

You shook your head. “Nothing.” 

“Uh, rude.” He deadpanned.

You laughed. Chanyeol could be sassy when he wanted to, and he mostly was when he’s with you. You guessed you both brought out something within each other that you’ve never known existed. 

You tried not to let your mind wander during the rest of your shift, in case Chanyeol grew more suspicious and interrogated you again. 

Though you didn’t like the job, it forced you to speak, something you had troubles doing, to talk to people who were strangers and co-workers who were your friends. It was just unclear, to you at least, whether that friendship extended beyond the scope of the restaurant. You hated that empty feeling in your chest whenever you parted ways with Chanyeol, him going back to his endeavors of becoming a music producer and you...well, you didn’t know exactly what you were doing or where you were going. You majored in psychology, but only because it had seemed like it was interesting. Three years in and you were beginning to think that it wasn’t. But it’s too late to turn back, so you would have to learn to settle. 

Fortunately(unfortunately), you don’t see Sehun for almost a whole week. It’s weird that before that night, you wouldn’t notice how often you wouldn’t crash into him in the hall or the mailroom. He was Sehun, your neighbor who has lived less than ten feet away from you for months, yet you don’t know a thing about him. Sehun, the man who was so disarmingly handsome that you now found yourself peeking corners to see if you had missed him by just a second, or making trips to the mailroom even though you had already collected them after school just to catch a glimpse of him. He became a phantom that was impossible to find.

Of course you knew where to find him, but it wasn’t like you had a purpose to seek him out or knock on his door. Plus, it wasn’t like one conversation with him as your bartender constituted him as a friend. You convinced yourself that it was best to just leave it at that. 

The following Monday, you came back from school to a surprise. You hated surprises for reasons, but seeing Sehun standing in front of your door as you watched from behind, a tinge of eagerness sparked on your skin.

“Hi.” 

Sehun, being so wrapped up in conjuring up the nerve to knock on your door, is startled shitless when he turns around to meet your questioning gaze. 

“Did you need something, Sehun?” You asked.  

Sehun shook his head, his eyes being hidden slightly from his falling bangs. He looked younger, less brooding, and you noticed that he was freshly showered and his fluffy locks proved your speculation. There’s a waft of aftershave as well, and a scent of freshness that you picked up. You were still debating whether you liked the smell of seaside breeze with earthy wood when Sehun responded with, “Have you eaten yet?” 

You willed your hopes to simmer down, to not jump to a favorable conclusion. He’s not inviting you to eat with him, is he? Though a part of you, the part that finds Sehun’s attractiveness insatiable, hopes with every fiber of your being to be allowed the time to bask in his beauty, another part of you dreads having to expose just how utterly banal your person actually was.

“I have, actually,” you lied easily. 

Sehun, you realize, was actually easier to read than you think. Since his countenance didn’t range very far from each one, it was easy to see the slightest change and the small flash of disappointment in his eyes made you regret your words, but you weren’t about to go back on your words now.

“How about later, then?” He asked. 

“I have a lot of work to catch up on, maybe next time.” Your heart thundered uncomfortably in your chest as you rejected him again. You felt your resolve fading the longer he stood there, contemplating whether he should say more. It wasn’t like this when you talked to him last week, but then again, you also had a bit to drink. 

Alas, Sehun agreed, quietly retreating back to his unit with a lighter chest. It was four pm, the perfect time to squeeze in a nap but as you stripped down and crawled into bed, you found it impossible to shut down. Thoughts of why Sehun had approached you and why he was so adamant on having a meal with you prevented any sleep to come to you. 

Finally at quarter past six, you decided fuck it. Sehun opened the door, not surprised to see you-- he probably looked through the peephole, something you could never do because you could barely reach it. 

“Still want to grab dinner?” You blurted.

Sehun quirked a semi-smile, and nodded. He stepped back into his apartment, to grab a jacket he tells you, and you got a glimpse of his living space. You couldn’t see much, not from the entrance, but what you could see was a charcoal grey L-shaped sofa, a very sizable television mounted on the wall. The other side was the kitchen, similar to your own unit except reversed in layout.

Sehun emerged from his room wearing a black hoodie with the word Russel across the chest and a circle of stars on one of the sleeves. “Let’s go.” 

While Sehun seemed as cool as a cucumber, not minding the small fact that you randomly going out for dinner together wasn’t something random. He even whistled to an unknown tune, as if the crisp air was singing him a song and he was responding with one of his own. The keys in his pocket even played to the rhythm of his steps.

The best thing about living in the city was that almost everything was accessible on foot, especially places to eat. Even as the sun was setting and people should’ve been home, having dinner, there was a considerable amount of people on the streets, running errands or doing like you and Sehun and looking for a place to eat out. 

“Where are we going?” You asked. It had barely occurred to you that there was no prior agreement on what to eat, let alone knowledge on what your preferences were. 

“I was thinking soup, with noodles.” That sounded pleasant with the weather so you quickly agreed. “I know just the place then.”

You and Sehun walked by your usual diner, passed by a Japanese restaurant, a ramen place which you thought was the destination, but he continued on until you arrived at a specialized knife cut noodle soup restaurant. 

A cozy, traditional style restaurant was not something you had imagined Sehun having in mind. It was the perfect ambiance to the blue hue that was morphing into black by the second just outside; a juxtaposition to the warmth that the earthy tones of the restaurant provided. 

A nice middle-aged lady greeted you from where she stood across the room, serving a table of older men. Sehun held up two fingers to indicate a party of two, and she gestured to an empty table by the window. 

It was silent as you perused the menu. It was a small selection but straight-to-the-point with all the flavors being relatively traditional. While you decide on what to get, Sehun seemed to have already known what to get from the minute he walked in so he began to set the table, placing a napkin from the dispenser and a pair of silver metal chopsticks and spoon on top. Much to your astonishment, he does the same for you. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, not forgetting your manners. He hummed in response. 

“Have you decided?” He asked. You were debating between the chicken and the kimchi noodle soup. 

“Hm...yeah, I’m ready.” 

The same lady came by and jotted down your orders: Sehun ordered the perilla seed noodle soup while you chose the chicken. You both thanked her when she brought over two cups of water before slipping into silence. You busied yourself by finding interest in the streets. It was finally dark now, with the sun gone, the sky was painted in indigo. Unfortunately, the stars are barely visible under the city lights. In your old town, you would’ve been able to see all the stars, could’ve drawn out constellations if you set your mind to it. 

“So,” Sehun started. It was so quiet that the sound of his voice caused you to jolt. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. “I think they put this in the wrong box.” 

At this, Sehun presented an envelope you recognize all too well. The seal of NCF rested on the left corner, followed by your name and address. Your stomach gripped, the pain eliciting all the nerves in your body upfront with hairs standing stiff and tall. This was the reason he wanted to have dinner?

You tried to mask your surprise. “Maybe it’s another Y/N at the apartment,” you excused. Your voice was steady, leveled, more than you could say for your body which was quivering from inside out. You played it off as if you were shivering from the sudden gust of wind when a guest walked in.

Sehun shook his head. “I checked with Mr. Kim,” your kind albeit nosy landlord. “He insisted on passing it onto you, but I told him that I would be seeing you tonight.” 

How does one learn the art of teleportation because at that moment, you wanted to disappear into thin air. You weren’t ready to face this. 

“Hey, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. I’m not asking any questions.” Sehun reassured you. If he noticed the sudden paleness in your face or breaths you were stifling, he didn’t comment on them. 

Your food arrived, and you both ate in silence. The food, although smelled delightful, tasted bland on your tongue that was as heavy as lead. Not a soul in this city knew of your past, of your family background whatsoever. There was never any need for anyone to know that your mother died of cancer or that your father was doing time.

“How do you know Liah?”

You glanced up from the ground where your eyes had been fixed. Sehun and you had left the restaurant after the quiet meal, and were ambling back to the apartment. You were stunned, not because of the way her name fell off his lips so naturally, you reasoned, but because he’s decidedly inquiring about your relationship with Liah. You gave Sehun the cliff notes version of your story, sparing him the unnecessary drama that had ensued. It was all ancient history since Liah was no longer in your life. 

Sehun listened as you recounted living at school with Liah, after which you considered asking him the same question back but couldn’t form the words. While you debated, Sehun does the unexpected and revealed, “Whatever you think you saw at the club last week, Liah and I aren’t a thing.” 

There was a park along the way, but cutting through it made the trek longer. Despite that, Sehun gestured with a nod towards the pathway lighted by warm street lights that did almost nothing to illuminate the cracked pavement.  

“We met that same night.” 

Without him telling you that, you figured that Liah would be bold enough to make a move on Sehun on their first meeting. Liah was known to be your building’s playgirl, if you will. Word spread around that she had slept with just about every guy in the dorms; you wouldn’t put it past her that she has done it in your shared room but you can’t say for sure since she’s never done it while you were in. 

Suddenly, there was a small pit of anger bubbling in you, the source of it being the memories of Liah tormenting you, but what fueled it, you don’t know. You felt your walls close in, and soon you were just plain annoyed. 

You shrugged your shoulders while hugging the package to your chest like some anchor, letting it fall heavily under your neck. “It’s honestly none of my business, even if you were. A thing.” You didn’t really mean to sound so cold, detached, but you couldn’t help the ice from freezing through your words, rendering even yourself speechless at how foreign you sounded.

Sehun stayed quiet at that, shoving his hands further in his pockets. 

“Listen,” you stopped in your tracks, making him stop as well before he turned to face you. “I’d appreciate it if you could just forget about this,” you held up the crumpled mail, “and maybe not associate me with Liah anymore. You probably have your reasons, and so do I, to ask you for this favor. It’ll be the one and only that I ask, so, please.” 

Sehun didn’t answer for a while. His face was lax, void of any emotion, as he looked at your face. Thanking the poor lighting, you doubt he could see how red you were turning. Your heart raced faster with every beat until you were sure it would burst. Then, his face crumbled into a look of confusion and desperation. “I can’t figure you out, Y/N.” 

It came out quicker than both of you would’ve expected when you shot back, “Then don’t.” 

Sehun shifted his weight to the opposite leg, showing for a split second that your sharp words affected him. He struggled to say something back, and when he didn’t for a minute, you turned and continued walking back to the apartment. 

The sigh Sehun released sounded of defeat laced with frustration before there was the sound of shoes scuffling as he jogged beside you. 

“Bongsan Hospital,” Sehun started, “About four years ago, that’s where we first met, sort of.” 

Bongsan Hospital was where your mother stayed during her chemotherapy. She was in and out of several facilities, getting treatment here and there, until finally in your second year of high school, she was admitted into Bongsan.You remember too many nights of sleeping on those god awful chairs they had. In the winters you’d bring a thick blanket for your mother and a small one for yourself. In the summer, you’d sit in the garden as you waited hours and hours for your mother to receive treatment. 

“What? How? I thought you were from the city this whole time,” you hesitated, stopping again in your tracks. 

“I am,” he answered vaguely, prompting you to raise a brow, asking for elaboration. “What? I grew up in the city.” 

“Sehun, the hospital,” you deadpanned.

“My mother’s doctor referred her to Bongsan, said the air was better for the condition of her lungs,” he explained. 

“Sehun, you are about the vaguest man on Earth.” You said impatiently. You hadn’t pegged Sehun to be a man of such tact, beating around the bush like a young boy hinting his mother for a new toy would do.

Sehun fought a smile from spreading across his face. “Do you remember a conversation that you had with a woman in the garden? She was painting when her palette was blown over by the wind?” 

The wheels in your head turned and turned until you recalled the memory. You remember helping a woman who frequently painted in the hospital’s garden when her paint palette had blown away, which she graciously thanked you for doing. She complimented your floral dress which you had only worn because your mother said that she missed the times when you were younger and she’d dressed you up. “Like the princess you are,” she had said. 

The next thing you remember was the woman asking if she could paint you, sitting on the verdant patch of land. What you don’t remember was a certain male being there. 

“What about the woman? Was she your mother?” Sehun nodded, making a show of acknowledging your keen memory. “But why don’t I remember you?” 

“Well, you ran away afterwards. I was only approaching when I heard my mom asking you to model for her,” he revealed, a fond smile gracing his lips. “You ran off so fast, you really don’t remember running into me?” 

You did, after the fact of him mentioning it. However, you don’t recall ever speaking to the woman-- Sehun’s mom-- again after the incident, and you haven’t been back to Bongsan since your mom’s passing. 

Which reminded you to ask Sehun, “How is she doing? Your mom.” 

“Good, I think. I visit when I have time, but she doesn’t want me to see her ‘not in her best form’. Her words, not mine.” He said, grinning when he finally sees something other than a frown that you’ve been wearing since dinner. 

It took a while but you both eventually made it back home. Sehun was fairly quiet the rest of the way home, and likewise you didn’t know what to say. It would be misleading to say that he was a gentleman and walked you to your door since he lived right across from you, but your heart stuttered at the fleeting idea nevertheless.

“I think I owe you an apology,” you said. “For walking off and for speaking so harshly.” 

The smile Sehun gave you was affable, and dare you say adorable. “I think I can take whatever you throw my way, Y/N.” You couldn’t help but think that his words were meant for more meaning than one. 

“Go on in,” he jerked his chin towards your apartment and you do so after offering him a closed lipped smile. “I’ll see you around,” he offered, leaving you the slightest chance to say otherwise. 

🌵

You’re eight and still don’t know how to control your temper. Your dad took a pair of shears to your hair this weekend, saying that it’s not practical to have such long hair in Daegu’s heat, but you don’t like how your hair falls just barely below your chin. It’s suppose to be long and pretty, like your mom’s was in the family portrait. 

You’ve always had long hair, cherished every time your dad braided it, so the moment Chanyeol calls you ugly on Monday and, “Aw, does that mean I can’t pull on your hair anymore?” You lose it and push his big, fat meanness to the ground despite being taller than you. Chanyeol makes a scene and tells on you, your teacher sends you to a time out where you cried big, fat tears in lieu of not being able to restore the length of your hair. 

“Ms. Lee says that you can come back in now.”

Kyungsoo is staring down at you from where you’re kneeled on the floor. Slowly lowering your arms, you rub the snot from your face which makes Kyungsoo judge you but you don’t care. You’re still sulking about your hair. 

“Why are you crying?” He asks. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t understand why Chanyeol’s bullying makes you so upset when it’s just Chanyeol, the mean kid who doesn’t have a sensitive bone in his body. He picks on Kyungsoo, too, but the smaller boy never bats an eye and instead turn the other cheek from his incessant mockery. 

“I look prettier with my hair long, didn’t I?” You’re not really expecting Kyungsoo to say that you look pretty, because Kyungsoo was your best friend and you know that he would never say something that like. And just as you know him so well, he replied with, “You’re ugly either way.” 

Kyungsoo calling you ugly isn’t as upsetting as Chanyeol doing it, you know that Kyungsoo can be mean and really harsh sometimes, but he was your best friend and would never hurt you hurt you. 

Kyungsoo thinks he should probably say something to make you feel better, but can’t bring himself to. You’re his best friend, and maybe that makes it harder, but just when he thinks he’s made you upset again, you break into a grin and retort sassily. “You’re ugly too, Soo,” you chortled, poking a finger to his chubby cheeks. 

🌵

You’re 15 and don’t understand boys at all. And that includes your dad. 

“She’s really nice, sweetheart, and she’s been wanting to meet you for a while now,” your dad coos. Your dad, get this, has a girlfriend. The world has stopped spinning, all the fishes in the sea stopped swimming, and you’ve stopped functioning. 

You knew your dad had a friend that was a girl, but what? When? What? You’ve started hanging out at your grandparent’s place more often, and tonight, your dad decides to disclose this crucial information that he’s in love with a woman...that wasn’t your mom. 

You start crying without even noticing, your mouth still full of rice that’s suddenly really difficult to swallow down. Your dad pulls you in a hug immediately, shushing your cries with gentle ‘don’t cry, baby, it’s all right, everything will be okay’. 

---

You’re uncharacteristically quiet and Kyungsoo notices right away when you’re just poking around your slowly melting ice cream. 

“Why do you have this look on your face like something died in your ice cream?” Kyungsoo goes to take a spoonful for your strawberry swirl and makes a face when he’s tasted the sugary confection. “Yuck, you’re gonna get diabetes if you keep eating that. But nothing died in there, so what’s wrong with you?” 

“Soo,” you croaked, “My dad doesn’t love my mom anymore.” 

Kyungsoo gives you a perplexed look. “What do you mean?” 

“He says he has a girlfriend and he’s, he says he loves her,” you whimpered. “What do I do, Soo?” 

Kyungsoo isn’t fond of sentiments. He doesn’t know what to say to make you feel better, but he thinks it’s not ‘better’ that you need, it’s the truth and Kyungsoo can do truths. He’ll try to be less bleak about it, though. 

“Don’t you want your dad to be happy and be in love?” He starts off. You nodded hesitantly, wanting to add more to it, but Kyungsoo shushes you with a look to let him finish. 

“Look, your dad falling in love with another woman doesn’t mean he doesn’t love your mom any less. But your mom has been gone for a long time. Who knows, maybe it’s a good thing that your dad will have someone to love instead of just missing your mom all the time.” Kyungsoo shrugs his narrow shoulders, acting nonchalant, while you’re absorbing everything he said. Everything he said is right. Kyungsoo is smart and logical for a boy his age. How did he get so wise, you wondered. 

“And before you pull the ‘but he has me to love’ card, he does. But you’re his daughter. He expects you to fall in love on your own and eventually leave him as well. It’s life, you dummy.”

Oh, no, you’re tearing up again. You don’t want to leave your dad in the future. You love him with all your fifteen year old heart. 

You hear Kyungsoo’s chair screeching as he stands up to go ask the cashier for napkins, and soon he returns, shoving the wad of napkins in your tear-stained face. He lets you cry for a while, awkwardly smiling at a lady who looks at him in disappointment. Geez, you’re such a handful. 

“Well, that’s assuming that you’ll find someone that can handle you for the rest of their lives.” 

🌵

You’re 18 and lordy lord is it a weird time in your life. You’ve come to terms that you have to share your dad with your step-mom now, but you’ve never thought that one day, you’d have to share Kyungsoo with another girl in his life. His mother didn’t count because she left them when he was young. So, as long as you’ve known Kyungsoo, he’s always been just yours. 

Okay, fine, he doesn’t belong to you, but point sustained. 

Her name is Sohee, and she’s in the same grade as you and Kyungsoo. Her mother is some hotshot realtor and she lives in the biggest house in town. When she moved here six months ago, she took an immediate interest in Kyungsoo, and after many attempts at confessing, Kyungsoo finally accepted her.

She’s pretty, like really pretty, so it confuses you that she liked Kyungsoo, your ugly, stupid, and ugly best friend. Okay, fine, fine. Kyungsoo wasn’t ugly. But you can’t say he was good looking either! It’s just not right! All you could give credit to him was that he grew into his button nose and wide eyes.

There’s a knock on your door and your step-mom pokes her head through the crack. You invite her to step closer and walk into your room. She briefly glances at the photo of you as a baby and your parents sandwiching you between them on a bed. 

“I was going to ask you if you needed any help getting ready, but it seems like you’ve got it all under control,” she smiles tenderly. You return it just the same. 

“Do I look okay?” You’re wearing a slight bit of makeup and you’ve curled the ends of your long hair. It makes you look really girly and so unlike you, but you’re going out with Kyungsoo and Sohee and a few of her friends for barbeque so you think that maybe you should look at least good enough to hang with them. Geez, where’s all this insecurity coming from? 

“You look pretty, dear, you always do,” she replies. She brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face and inspects you closely, motherly, and you appreciate the gesture however much it makes you miss your real mom. 

---

You shouldn’t have been surprised that Sohee was friends with the popular kids. You just hate that you didn’t see it coming, to see Park Chanyeol sitting on the opposite side of the only available seat left. 

“Hey, Y/N! You made it!” Sohee cheers. It’s just a casual lunch hang out, and you’re aware she looks pretty every day, but you’re floored by how pretty she looks in a flowy white dress and her hair in a half updo. Kyungsoo gives you a ‘sup nod when you meet eyes. He’s sitting on the left of his girlfriend, your seat being on the right of Sohee. You greet everyone else at the table as you settle in, and they all respond kindly despite probably not knowing who you are.  

Everyone talks amongst themselves and across the table. You yourself try to engage, but can’t really find anything to add to the discussions. You keep quiet for the most part and eat the grilled meats when it’s ready. Suddenly, you feel someone tug on your hair and look up from the grill to see Chanyeol smirking at you. 

“You grew out your hair again,” he speculates the obvious. “I forgot how fun it was to pull pranks on you, Y/N.” 

Your cheeks turned red unconsciously, and Chanyeol is quick to point it out and friendly mock you out loud. His boisterous laugh is loud enough to catch everyone’s attention at your table. 

“You haven’t changed a bit, Y/N! You still get worked up so easily over something so small.” Chanyeol guffaws. He leans towards you and tease, “Would you believed me if I told you that I actually liked you back then?” 

You glare at Chanyeol, spiting the fact that he’s grown up handsomely and too tall for you to glower at when he’s taller than you even sitting down, and he’s making you blush right now. No, you don’t like Park Chanyeol, but he’s teasing you again and pulling on your hair like you guys are six again and you hate how belittling it feels. You’re pissed.

“Am I suppose to feel flattered, Park?” You snap. By now everyone is watching you two, glaring down one another. Kyungsoo growls your name, and snaps you out of it. You turn to meet his hard stare and his subtle head shake. He’s mad at you? Oh, hell no.

“Sorry,” you mumble to the whole table. “I forgot that I have to help my mom with something.” In your stricken state, you let the three letter word slip. But it was too late. Your heart sinks when you see the look in Chanyeol’s eyes shift. 

“Don’t you mean ‘step-mom’?” 

This time Kyungsoo calls out Chanyeol’s name, deep and threatening. “Yah, Park Chanyeol.” 

The shift in attention from you to Chanyeol is all you need to slip out of your seat and out of the restaurant. 

---

You don’t go home after leaving the restaurant. You know better than to worry your step-mom by coming home early, just an hour after you’ve left. 

Instead, you go to the ice cream place that you and Kyungsoo have been religiously visiting since you guys were fifteen. You get three hefty scoops of your favorite flavor, courtesy of the worker who knows you a little too well. 

You park your bum on one of the stools, refusing to sit in your usual spot without Kyungsoo there. Just when the thought your best friend crosses your mind, your phone chimes with a new message. 

‘U ok?’ 

‘Yeah’ You send back quickly. Three minutes pass, and you figure Kyungsoo saw your reply and is leaving it at that. But then another one comes through shortly.

‘Ok. Don’t finish all that ice cream, there’s too much sugar in that crap’

Your smile comes reflexively. 

---

Around 4pm, you go home. You sat in the ice cream shop for a total of three hours, talking to the worker there, until he clocked out and left you bored out of your mind for the last hour. 

Your dad is home from work, the evidence in his usual work shoes sitting in its shelf slot. 

“I’m home,” you announce. Your step-mom greets you back from where she is in the kitchen, preparing dinner. You head towards the kitchen for some water to wash down the sugar still in your mouth. 

“Where’s dad?” You ask. 

“Showering. Dear, would you mind watching over the stove?” 

You agree to, standing in front of the pot of soup and stir it in interest. It’s dad’s favorite.

“How was lunch with your friends, hm?” Your step-mom asks as she chops up stalks of green onion. 

You pretend to be really interested in what was cooking on the stove top, responding distractedly and vaguely. “It was fun. I’m still a little full from how much I ate.” Lies, you felt sick; you should’ve listened to Kyungsoo and not eaten all that ice cream.  

Your dad walks into the kitchen, giving you a smooch on your cheek and then your step-mom. 

Your step-mom resumes what she was saying before your dad walked in. “You can have a small dinner, so that way you won’t go to sleep hungry later, okay?” 

Dad butts into the conversation. “You’re not hungry, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah,” you grimace. “I had lunch with Kyungsoo, and Sohee.” You add the last bit almost as an afterthought. It makes you strikingly uncomfortable that every time you mention Kyungsoo nowadays, it’s followed with Sohee’s name. Now you really feel sick, period. 

After dinner which you sat through just for the sake of keeping your dad and step-mom company, you took a quick shower. You had forgotten about the makeup on your face, and came out of the shower looking like a panda. 

You’re wiping your eyes with makeup remover when there’s a knock on your door. 

“Come in,” you say, assuming it’s your dad or step-mom. However, it’s Kyungsoo. “Oh, hey.” 

“Hey,” he grunts, shutting the door behind him as he makes himself comfortable in your room. He sits on your bed, right by where you’re sitting on a chair in front of your vanity. He watches you finish removing your macara. 

“What’s up?” You questioned him after you’ve completely rid of your panda eyes. 

“Do you think I should break up with Sohee?” 

Trust Kyungsoo to come in like a wrecking ball with this sudden quandary. You’re shocked to say the least. 

“Wait, what?” 

Kyungsoo repeats the same question, and that’s when you notice how tired he sounds. He sounds completely drained as he sighs. You’re not sure what to do or say in this uncharted territory. In fact, the entirety of Kyungsoo and Sohee’s relationship was uncharted territory.

You ask the obvious question. “Do you not like Sohee anymore?” 

He sighs again, digging his palms into his eye sockets. “That’s the point. I’m not even sure if I ever liked her to begin with, Y/N.” 

You probably give him the stupidest face reaction ever, one of confusion and judgment. “Kyungsoo, you can not be stupid enough to call her your girlfriend for almost four months and not have had a single feeling towards her.” 

Kyungsoo shrugs. You steadily breathe through your nose to maintain your composure. 

“Okay, fine. Then why the sudden epiphany that you don’t want to be with her anymore?” 

“I mean,” Kyungsoo massages the back of his neck. “This isn’t sudden. I’ve thought about this for a while now. Today, after what happened, it just made it more clear.” 

“What do you mean?” You go to sit next to him on your bed. 

“Sohee kind of got upset after you left. We talked it out just before I came here, but she said she didn’t like how I got in between you and Chanyeol, like I was acting jealous that Chanyeol could have really liked you.” 

You snort. “Chanyeol did not and does not like me. He’s just being a jerk.” 

“That’s what I told her, but she wouldn’t believe me,” he groans. 

“That’s dumb. Is she insinuating that you actually have feelings for me? Me.” You point a finger at yourself and laugh. “There’s literally no way.” 

“...I know. So, what do you think I should do about Sohee?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, Soo. Just do whatever you think is right.” 

---

Chanyeol eventually apologizes, a few weeks after the sour encounter you had. He corners you at school, said he didn’t mean to say the things he did and apologized for the low blow. He was being sincere, you could tell, so you accepted his “I’m sorry for being such a dick, even when we were younger I wasn’t nice to you at all, so I’m really sorry’. It felt too formal to shake it off, so he opted for a boyish one arm hug that melted away all your bitterness about the past. 

You tell Kyungsoo about your truce with Chanyeol later that night. He’s over at your house again, this time staying for dinner with your parents as well. Your dad always liked Kyungsoo, ever since you told him about ‘the boy in your grade who also lost his mother’. Of course, you learned later on in life that your mother’s passing was different from Kyungsoo’s mother leaving him and his father for another man. 

“So you guys are friends now?” Kyungsoo questions, moving your potted cactus to a spot he deemed more suitable. You let him do as he wishes since it was his gift for you, and you got two brown thumbs.

“We basically bro-hugged it out, and he apologized for what happened last week,” you say, shrugging. “It hardly constitutes as friendship, but at least we’re not enemies anymore.” Kyungsoo hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t respond with anything else on the matter. 

“So,” you start, sudden trepidation flooding your heart. “I heard about you and Sohee.” 

Kyungsoo doesn’t bat an eye as he continues organizing your desk, merely makes a sound of acknowledgment that he has heard you. 

“Are you okay, Soo?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a while, just silently replacing your notebooks into your file boxes and pens into your upcycle candle jar. Kyungsoo’s bedroom in comparison to yours is shockingly different. Whereas you find comfort in feeling as if your room was homey, Kyungsoo kept his immaculate. He cleans it daily, you swear, and there’s never an item misplaced. It drives Kyungsoo up the wall when you refuse to do the bare minimum as to reorganize your desk after a week of use; your bed and clothes, he doesn’t care for, but desk clutter is the worst kind of clutter, according to him.  

When he’s finally satisfied, he turns to join you on the bed, planting himself on the opposite end, right by your outstretched legs. 

“I’m not sad, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he starts. “We were dating for four months, and if I’m being honest, I wasn’t happy at any point in time during those months. 

“I think I only agreed to be her boyfriend because she had this power over me, urging me to just say yes, so I thought - what the hell - she’s pretty,” Kyungsoo confesses to which you have to force your eyeballs not to roll back. “But she was also controlling.” 

You frown at this, very deeply, and very hurt that you didn’t know about how Sohee was treating your best friend. 

“Bottom line is, I wasn’t happy with her and I’m so glad I finally broke it off.” Kyungsoo is grinning, relieved and wistful. 

“I’m sorry,” comes your apology. Kyungsoo questions it, baffled at why you were saying sorry as if his dumb mistake was your fault. “I don’t know. I feel like maybe I should’ve noticed something like this. I feel bad that you were unhappy this whole time when I had no clue.” 

You’ve always pride yourself in understanding Kyungsoo a little more than anyone else. He was your left arm and right leg for goodness sake. Kyungsoo had his tendencies, to bury everything remotely burdening and bare it all himself, but you should’ve been able to pick up on that. Right? 

Kyungsoo shrugs, as if saying, “Whatever, what’s done is done.” You’re left staring at each other for a good few seconds before you’re lifting your arms up, wondering, “Hug?” 

“I told you I’m fine, Y/N,” Kyungsoo repeated, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m not talking about you,” you muttered as you crawl towards the end of the bed. “I need it. For me.” 

Kyungsoo, though the least affectionate person you’ve ever met, can never say no to you when you look genuinely sad? Why were you sad? He simply opens up, allowing you to crawl into his arms and wrap your arms underneath and up around his shoulders. You squeeze him tight, surprising Kyungsoo who is virtually your pillar from toppling over--and shit. You’re suddenly crying. He makes sure your sniffles are crying sniffles, but honestly he could already feel the unevenness of your breathing from the way you’re pressed against his chest and he knows that you’re suppressing your cries. 

“Why are you crying?” He asks. He opts to play with the ends of your hair, unable to bring himself to comb his whole hand through it. Kyungsoo hopes and prays that you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating. 

You don’t though because yours is pounding in your own cavity, so heavy and aching that all you really feel from Kyungsoo is his warmth. 

“I missed you,” you whispered. You realize the weight of missing Kyungsoo was different than missing your mom. You hate to think that you’ve gotten used to the absence of your mother, but Kyungsoo was here the whole time yet you felt so far from him these past few weeks, months even. He tells you this, you predicted he would. 

“I’ve been here the whole time, though.” 

“Shut up, Soo, I know that. Just...give me a moment. Please?” Your plea settles in the valleys of his chest, seeping into his veins in lethal waves. 

Kyungsoo, now patting your head occasionally, sighs a deep sigh. You stayed in that position for five minutes until Kyungsoo finally complains about his aching back.

🌵

You’re finally the ‘A’ word, inevitably, age 22 and fresh out of college. You got a degree in history and working on getting your credentials to teach. You went to college in your city; it was small and humble, but you couldn’t imagine yourself leaving Daegu’s familiar charm. Everyone you knew, had grown up with left the minute summer was over, and they shipped off to different cities and countries and whatnot. Okay, maybe not every single person you knew. Park Chanyeol actually came back after three semesters at uni, deciding that school just wasn’t for him. 

Presently, you’re on baby watch while your parents are on a five-day vacation, one that you suggested and only mildly regret doing. 

“Seojun, it’s time for lunch. Aren’t you hungry?” You ask the two year old sitting in his playpen. He’s banging on his little toy that is suppose to promote motor skills but he has yet to figure out that it doesn’t require mindlessly banging on the dang thing. 

Halfway through setting up his lunch, the doorbell rings. You make sure he’s still occupied before taking your sights off him. 

“Kyungsoo?” He standing there, on your threshold, like it was the most casual thing for him to show up on a random Saturday afternoon. “What are you doing here?” 

Kyungsoo cracks a grin as he eyes your stained shirt. “Visiting. Can I come in?” 

You attempt to smooth out the creases on your shirt due to Seojun’s grabby hands as Kyungsoo walks further into your house. He easily makes his way over to your baby brother who’s curious about the strange man he’s only met through videocall. 

“I’m going to finish up preparing his lunch,” you tell Kyungsoo, and he nods with a soft look on his face. 

As you roll rice balls into baby bite-sized rounds, you steal glances at the man playing with your baby brother, attempting to will your heart to stop fluttering at how utterly gentle he was being. 

His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him-- through a screen-- it’s now shaved on either sides, leaving the top just a few inches longer than the rest. He’s wearing a grey sweater that fits snug against his chest and biceps--

“Done!” You shout, a little too loud for Seojun who trembles cutely on his wobbly bum. “Would you mind bringing Seojunnie over?” 

You shouldn’t be as mesmerized at the sight of Kyungsoo’s taut forearm supporting Seojun’s bottom as much as you were. He seats him on the high chair and Seojun goes to town with his lunch without much prompting. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” You ask while sliding him a cup of water. 

Kyungsoo takes a sip before responding. “I messaged you this morning,” he defends, but you actually haven’t seen your phone all day. You were occupied with Seojun since yesterday and you normally don’t expect calls or messages. Kyungsoo knows this so it doesn’t entirely puts him in the clear.

“You hadn’t mentioned anything last week when we spoke,” you grumbled. “So, how long do I have you for this time?”

Kyungsoo usually stays in weeks at a time, never going longer than three weeks unless it was the holidays. 

“I’m done with my internship, decided to move back for a little while,” he explains. Kyungsoo studied and graduated with a major in engineering, and started interning at a company right after he finished. That was almost two years ago, and he was finally done. 

You try not to think about how little is a little while, focusing on how for now, you have your best friend back by your side. 

---

Turns out it wasn’t that long. Kyungsoo was gone again by the following month, landing a job in Seoul, with benefits and a pay more than you could dream of with your teaching job. You’re happy for him, extremely happy, and so proud to watch him grow and succeed in life. So you suck it up, brush away the ache in your chest, and send him off with a happy smile. 

🌵

You’re twenty-five, turning twenty-six today, and life is okay. You’re a high school teacher as planned and you like your job and where you are in life.  

You wake up to Seojun jumping on your bed, screaming, “Happy birthday noona!” You literally have to peel him off like a leech after a while when he wouldn’t let you go to get ready for work. He says it again at the table over breakfast, followed by a chorus of happy birthdays from your parents as well. 

“Thank you, thank you all,” you say, voice full of mirth. You make a mess of Seojun mop of a hair before parting for work. 

The day goes by quickly when it’s filled with smiles and thank you’s towards your colleagues who greets you a happy birthday. Few of the ladies expressed their envy of your youth, being the youngest teacher and all, but all you could think in the back of your mind was whether you were ready to be another year older. 

You’re meeting up with Chanyeol for dinner later that day. You try, but to no avail, to stop your mother from giving you suggestive looks when you tell her that you’re spending your birthday with Chanyeol. 

“He’s just a friend, Mom,” you said. “Chanyeol and I will never, ever be, so just give it up already, okay?” 

Your mother simply walks out of your room with a singsonged, “Whatever you say, dear.” 

Chanyeol picks you up at seven. He comments on how nice you look in your little black dress, to which you thank him and return to him the same; he wore a pinstripe shirt with a blazer thrown over for a casual but put-together dinner look. Chanyeol, being the popular guy in high school like he was, was always aware of his wardrobe. He had his admirers to please, and you make a joke to him about it.

“You’re not trying to impress me, are you, Park?” 

He shrugs. “Depends on if you’re impressionable.” 

You chortle goodnaturedly. “Not since you called me ugly when we were eight.” 

He winces. “Damn, I hope Seojun doesn’t learn to hold grudges like you do.” 

The drive to the restaurant that Chanyeol had made reservations with was fifteen minutes away. You had made him promise not to go overboard for your birthday; you’ve only spent your three previous birthdays with Chanyeol but he always somehow manages to make the celebration bigger than it should’ve been. The previous year he took you to the aquarium, and the year before that, he surprised you in your classroom. Let’s just say the kids were more than ecstatic that the classtime spent was more or less than unproductive. 

You couldn’t explain how Chanyeol and you had gotten so close. After bumping into him at the market, you rekindled the unlikely friendship that was you and Park Chanyeol, the popular high school kid who was expected to evolve into your typical college frat boy but surprised the world when he returned to his hometown. That and the fact that you both understood each other quite well. 

“Order anything you want. It’s my treat tonight.” The waiter comes over with a bottle of champagne that Chanyeol had reserved. The menu consists of steaks and seafood specialties. The steak, good lord, is almost over $50, so you smother your usual craving for beef down and tell Chanyeol that you’d like the seabass with a salad and veggies which was still up there. 

“Seriously, Y/N?” Chanyeol gives you a doubtful look. “You can eat five-six rounds of brisket when we barbecue and you’re telling me you want seabass?” 

You pinked at his frank observation. “It just sounds interesting! I want to try it and you can’t stop me,” you argue, adding a sassy hair flick over your shoulder. 

Chanyeol succumbs reluctantly and flags the waiter down who takes your order. Chanyeol orders your seabass and the steak for himself, and you just know it’s his sly way of giving you want you actually want. 

“Have you spoken to Kyungsoo today?” Chanyeol asks when the waiter walks away.

Kyungsoo. A name once so homey, but foreign as of late. 

You shake your head at the question, reaching for your glass to wash the imaginary bitterness away. 

“He’s probably busy with work.” At least that’s the reason he’s been giving you whenever you try to contact him only for him to message hours later that he can’t talk at the moment. You don’t blame him of course; life gets busy and it wasn’t like you weren’t the same. Teaching proved to be an around the clock job as you spend as much available time when you’re not teaching, planning lessons and grading papers. 

You wonder, but try not to dwell, on the fact that he’s forgotten your birthday. Maybe even forgotten about you. You scoff out loud at the thought. The slight sweetness that was in the wine had gone sour all of a sudden.

Chanyeol, of all people, was the first to recognize your feelings for Kyungsoo. Yes, you had feelings for your best friend, if you could still call him that. Feelings that weren’t all platonic and that scared you at first, when you got really moody during his last relationship with some girl at his uni. 

Even your parents brushed it off as your first mid-life crisis where you refused to leave the house and ignored every soul that wasn’t under the roof.

It was Chanyeol who eventually called you out on your feelings when you both were drinking one night, and you got mad at him for saying nonsense. After sobering up(and brooding for 2 days), you called Chanyeol and apologized for calling him terrible names and kicking him in the shin. He wouldn’t accept your apology until you fessed up and admitted your feelings. 

“You’re killing me here, Y/N,” Chanyeol presently groans, making you roll your eyes. He’s become somewhat of a part-time relationship confidant to you, though you’d never admit what a mess you were out loud.

The food arrives and you both dig in. Chanyeol cuts off a chunk of his steak and puts it on your plate, as you expected. You get ready to scold him, but with one look at his stern expression, you pause, letting all arguments die in your throat. 

“Thank you, Chanyeol,” you say. There’s a heaviness in your chest because no matter how great Chanyeol was to you, you still wish that it was Kyungsoo that was taking you out to dinners and visiting you at work and taking you to the aquarium. Not that you were comparing Chanyeol to Kyungsoo...but technically they both aren’t compared in any other ways besides being your best friend. Damn, now you just missed Kyungsoo, period. 

“Yah, yah,” Chanyeol admonishes when he notices your smile quivering. “None of that today. We’re celebrating your birthday, okay?” He picks up his flute and motions you to do the same. “To 26,” he cheers, softly connecting your glasses together in a faint clink. 

For the rest of the night, you catch up with Chanyeol; his life as a chef was interesting to say the least as he shares stories about all the various people who visits his restaurant. You talk until Chanyeol shakes off his slight buzz in order to get behind the wheel. When it’s out of his system, Chanyeol grabs the bill and drives you guys back to a convenience store near your house. 

It’s a funny look-- both of you dressed for a fancy dinner but are sitting on the table outside the store with bottles of soju, doing shots. Well, you’re doing shots. Meanwhile, Chanyeol is nursing you who’s getting drunker with every shot. He takes one for every five you take. 

You were doing good, not dwelling on Kyungsoo for the most part, but the alcohol messes with your coherence to block him out, and next thing you know you’re flooded with all these damn emotions. 

“Chanyeol, have you ever loved someone?” 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

You think he might be joking so you retort back with, “And it can’t be your mom or sister, Yeol.” He surprises you when he simply smirks and repeats his answer. 

“Do I know this person?” You ask. This was news to you. Chanyeol, as far as you knew, never dated in high school and hasn’t gone out with a girl in a few years. He was flirty by nature, but despite girls flocking around him, he’s never made one his girlfriend. 

Chanyeol asserts that, no, you didn’t know this person. He simply states that it was a girl he knew of since he was young. You wanted to ask him if he still loves this girl.

You’re downing another shot when, suddenly, your phone rings with an incoming call. 

“Yah, Kyungsoo is calling you,” Chanyeol informs you, knowing you probably can’t see straight to read his name.

“Should I pick up? What should I do? I’m not thinking straight.” In your sluggish, panic state, you stumble and slur on your words. Chanyeol answers the call for you before it’s too late.

“Hey, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says into the device. “Y/N is a little out of it right now.” Kyungsoo says something back that Chanyeol relays to you. Whispering, he tells you, “He says he still wants to talk to you.” 

Reluctantly, you take the phone and put it to your ear. 

“Hey, Soo!”

Kyungsoo sighs softly on the other end. “Are you drunk?” 

You make a sound that sounds vaguely similar to an excited baby. With your heart pounding in your ribcage, you don’t trust yourself to vocalize anything, nevermind coherency. 

“How was your birthday?” He asks after a few seconds. 

“Work, dinner, now soju,” you summarized, giggling at the end. You hear shuffling of papers in the background. “Are you still working?” It’s almost midnight, and he was still working? 

Kyungsoo hums in response. 

“Soo, it’s too late for you to be still working. Whatever it is, it can wait. Get some rest, hmm?” 

“I’m getting ready to leave,” he says. 

“Good.” You smile over the phone, feeling safe that he can’t see the love pouring out of you. Damn, you need to keep. It. In. Check. 

 “Just wanted to make sure I get in my birthday wish before it’s over,” he mumbles. There’s a somber tone to his voice and you recognize it as the same one he used before when he told you that he wouldn’t visit for the holidays because of deadlines. 

“It’s okay, Soo. I’m okay,” you murmur back. “Thank you.” Kyungsoo goes silent on the other end for a minute. 

With both of you not saying anything, Chanyeol mouths, “Did he hung up?” You shake your head. 

In another few seconds, Kyungsoo sighs before telling you to get home safe and that he’ll give you a call tomorrow morning.

You give Chanyeol the phone back(even though it’s yours) and knock out on the table. To twenty-six!...

🌵

You’re still 26. It’s one month after your birthday, and Kyungsoo surprises you with a call during your lunch break. It’s odd because you sent him an article talking about how sugar was once considered medicinal, and that was this morning and he hadn’t responded. Leave it to Kyungsoo to ghost your message and skip right to phoning. 

“Transferred? What do you mean?” You wipe the sauce that drips down your chin. Gross. 

“I put in a request to move to the office closer to Daegu, so I’m moving back.” Kyungsoo tells you over the phone.  

“But-but why? I mean, not that I’m not happy about this news, but…” You don’t voice out the fact that Kyungsoo being in Seoul made your coping to stop thinking about him a little easier. Not that it was ever successful, but that’s besides the point. How will you keep your feelings in check with him living fifteen minutes away from you? 

“Well, Chanyeol was the one who gave me the idea.” You make a mental reminder to murder Chanyeol later. “I just went ahead and asked to see if it was possible. It took one month for them to agree, but they finally did, so, I guess I’m coming home,” he concludes. 

---

Even though Kyungsoo is back, it’s different from before. You guys aren’t teenagers anymore, but adults with obligations and a proper job that requires you both on tight schedules. Even so, you guys are making an effort to make up for lost time and try to see each other on the weekends.  

You don’t know why it takes three weeks after his return for your family to invite Kyungsoo over for dinner, but your mother brings it up in the morning over breakfast, and tells you to message Kyungsoo. 

‘Parents ask if you wanna come over for dinner??”

‘Sure. Tonight?’ 

‘Yep :)’ 

‘Ok’ And just like that, Kyungsoo was coming over for dinner with you and your family. 

Your dad gives Kyungsoo a fatherly hug when he arrives, clapping his back twice and saying things like, “You’ve gotten big, son. You working out?” and “It’s great to have you back, so I have a second pair of eyes to keep an eye on Y/N,” —he whispers that last part but really, he wasn’t even trying. You roll your eyes with a pointed look. 

Seojun was always a social kid-- just like you were in most ways-- so it doesn’t surprise anyone that Seojun is accepting Kyungsoo so easily. You and your parents observe the little boy who won’t stop bothering Kyungsoo throughout dinner just to blabber something irrelevant to the man. Kyungsoo takes it all in stride, even letting Seojun settle on his lap in order for Seojun to at least have his dinner while playing with his new hyung.  

“So, Kyungsoo, are you seeing anyone?” Your dad asks, making you choke mildly on your dinner. 

“Dad!” You exclaim in place of Kyungsoo who couldn’t express his shock that your dad out of all people was inquiring about his love life. Your dad mouths, “what?” at you. You haven’t even touched that subject since he got back, for both of your benefits. If Kyungsoo wanted to tell you, then he would at his own time. 

Kyungsoo smiles goodnaturedly, and answers, “Not at the moment, sir.” You try not to ponder his very specific answer paired with the gentle look on his face. Does that mean he had a girl in mind? 

“Dad, quit it,” you grumble when he goes off tangent about the know-hows of courting a woman. Your step-mom jumps in with, “Honey, we all know that it was me who had to pursue you before we finally started dating.” While your parents begins a discourse about the beginnings of their relationship, you quietly finish your dinner and began on the dishes since your mother did the cooking. 

“Need some help?” 

You turn around to see Kyungsoo with his used bowls walking towards where you’re standing in front of the sink. 

“Wanna help dry?” You suggest but Kyungsoo shakes his head, offering to do the washing instead. You shrug and let him take over as he pleased. Kyungsoo was always the more neat and clean one of you two.

“It’s Sunday tomorrow,” Kyungsoo states. “Are you doing anything?” 

“I’m meeting with Chanyeol tomorrow,” you reply, replacing the clean and dried utensils in the drawer. “We’re watching a movie and probably grabbing lunch afterwards.” You tell him. You’ve been hanging out with Chanyeol regularly on Sundays because it was his only day off.

“You could join us for lunch, if you want to,” you say. 

Kyungsoo hesitates for a while. “You sure? Shouldn’t you ask Chanyeol to make sure it’s okay first?” 

“He won’t mind, seriously. We see each other so often that I’m surprise he isn’t sick of me yet. He’ll be more than happy to have someone other than me there.” You scoff.

Kyungsoo doesn’t answer to that, but agrees with a pensive look as he completes the dishes. He doesn’t voice out whatever he’s thinking about the rest of the night.

----

“I still can’t believe how hard you cried.” 

You and Chanyeol are sitting at the pizza place you told Kyungsoo to meet you at, having your typical banter. This time, it’s about the movie that you guys just watched. 

“Look, it was sad, okay? Simba literally had to watch his dad struggle and die right in front of him! After he made that promise to always be by his side, too? Devastating, and you don’t have a heart if that didn’t kill you inside, Y/N.”

“Yes, but you were literally sobbing, Yeol. Parents were giving you looks.” You mimic some of the looks you saw, from worried to straight up judging. 

“I don’t care. Simba lost his father, I deserve to mourn.” Chanyeol frowns deeply, sinking further into his seat. You’re mumbling about how even some of your students were more mature than this gigantic man when Kyungsoo arrives.

“Yah, Do Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol’s mood immediately turns, and he’s all big and goofy grin as he claps Kyungsoo’s shoulder in greeting. “It’s been awhile, dude!” 

Just because you’re still bitter that Chanyeol called you heartless, you mock the way he says dude, as if he doesn’t call you dude half the time. Kyungsoo grins at your silliness while Chanyeol blatantly ignores you.

While the two reacquaint themselves, you go to order the food after a short discussion of what flavors everyone wanted. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?” The worker manning the register asks kindly. You return the smile he gives you that oddly resembles a puppy. You focus on the menu in your hand as you repeat the different flavors and items you wanted. He types it all into the machine, repeating your order back, and completing with, “Anything else, pretty?” 

You almost choke on your spit. Looking up at the worker, your eyes made a brief glance at the name on his tag that read: “Baekhyun”. You’re too shocked to answer right away, which this guy, Baekhyun, notices. 

“Sorry,” he meekly apologizes. “I couldn’t help myself because you look so pretty.” Apparently the idea of subtlety wasn’t in this guy’s dictionary, and you couldn’t help the red from painting across your cheeks at his frank compliment. 

“No, it’s okay. I was just taken aback, but thank you,” you shyly beamed. Baekhyun smile becomes even brighter when you’ve responded positively. You have to look down again to hide your blushing cheeks when you decided how utterly cute the guy was.

“If that’s all then your order will be ready in fifteen to twenty minutes, pretty.” You manage to meet eyes with him again, thinking it’d be rude to not when he’s clearly talking to you, and he steals the short moment to send you a flirty wink. 

Dazed, you walk back to your table not too far away. You can only hope that Chanyeol won’t embarrass you about your red face in front of Kyungsoo.

But, alas. “Dude, I can feel the heat of your face all the way from here.”

“Shut it, Park.” 

If Kyungsoo wanted to join in on Chanyeol’s antics, he doesn’t show it neither does he comment on what he and Chanyeol most likely witnessed. You only kinda want to kill Chanyeol for his irresponsible mouth because the compliment from Baekhyun, though a little too forward for your liking, was still nice and pleasant overall. 

For the next hour or two, you guys spent lunch catching up on each other’s lives while reminiscing about the simplicity of the past. Kyungsoo learns about Chanyeol’s profession as a chef; he looks mildly jealous at this revelation. 

“Kyungsoo really likes cooking, actually,” you find yourself telling Chanyeol. Since high school, Kyungsoo would occasionally surprise you with homemade lunch that he would make alongside his father the night before. And because he was Kyungsoo, it always tasted better than you’d expected.

“We should get together and cook a meal one day!” Chanyeol blurts excitedly. He also rudely adds, “Y/N burns everything she touches.” 

“Yah!” You throw punches to his arm that actually hurts. 

“It’s the truth!” Chanyeol howls. “I feel sorry for your future husband! Better hope he has an iron stomach!” 

“Then I’ll just marry someone who can cook for the both of us!” Two seconds after, you realize the implications of your statement and regret everything instantly. Chanyeol hides his smirk while you give him a death glare to shut up. Kyungsoo, again, stays quiet. 

The lack of response makes you both glad and upset, leaning towards upset and you didn’t enjoy the way your heart clenched tightly. It feels similar to when baby Seojun would hold onto your fingers with a vice grip.

Kyungsoo was a man of few words, sure, but you’d rather have him and his snide remarks than this silence. Silence meant that it wasn’t even worth his breath to acknowledge, nevermind be affected by.

After lunch, Chanyeol parts ways to run some errands--so he claims, but the subtle wink he sends you tells you otherwise. Kyungsoo is the one to suggest getting ice cream. 

“Maybe at your favorite place?” 

You perk up at that, telling him that you haven’t visited that place in a while. The shop recently underwent some renovation due to a leak, or so your inside man tells you. 

“Are you sure you don’t want the strawberry swirl?” Kyungsoo asks for the fourth time while setting the scoop of red bean ice cream in front of you that you requested. He has a scoop the mint chocolate chip for himself.

“Sadly, I’m not like I used to be,” you frowned. “Last time I tried eating the strawberry swirl, I got a major headache from all the sugar.” 

Kyungsoo snorts. “Guess I don’t have to say I told you so anymore.” 

“You don’t, but why do I still hear you saying it in your head?” You place your chin on your propped up palm, cocking your head to the side in mockery. Kyungsoo simply chuckles before shoving a spoonful of his ice cream into his mouth. You shouldn’t be, but you find yourself staring a few seconds too long at his lips. They’re plump and pink and too inviting. 

“Y/N?” You hear someone call out. Looking up, you see a tall man, burly and jacked up. It’s Son Hyunwoo, a fellow teacher who was closest to you in age, being four years older than you, though his looks could easily fool anyone.  Standing by his side was a little boy whose eyes looked uncanny to his father. 

“Hyunwoo oppa!” You beam brightly. Unnoticed by you, Kyungsoo is thoroughly confused because you called this man with such delight and affection. What even. 

Hyunwoo walks over with his six year old, a little cutiepie named Hyuk. 

“Hi, Hyuk-ah!”

Being just like his father, Hyuk face is straight even as he politely bows his tiny little head with his hands on his belly, greeting you. He’s so darn cute that you can’t not fuss over him. 

“I almost missed you because you look so different with your hair,” Hyunwoo comments, ruffling the top of your head as you had just done to Hyuk. Usually, you wear your hair in a low bun because your female colleagues had once said that you looked more mature with the particular look. Without the do, your hair is still on the shorter side, barely grazing your shoulders. 

Consciously, you curl the hairs framing your face behind your ears, all the while simpering like a teenager in front of her crush. At least that’s how it looked to Kyungsoo who has to choke on his spit for you to remember his presence. 

“Oh, right,” you startle. “This is Kyungsoo, my childhood best friend,” you announce, gesturing to poker-faced Kyungsoo. “And this is Hyunwoo oppa. He’s an athletics teacher at our school.” 

Hyunwoo smiles amicably, offering Kyungsoo a handshake. Without a choice, Kyungsoo puts his hand in his awaiting ones, but regrets it immediately when he notices you outright ogling at Hyunwoo’s huge biceps flexing in front of you.  

“I thought we were interrupting a date, but good thing it’s not one, right?” Hyunwoo grins, seemingly harmless but it ticks off Kyungsoo anyways, especially when you quickly jump in to deny such assumptions. 

You know that Hyunwoo says the darndest things, but this was top-tier blasphemy and not because you didn’t like Kyungsoo that way(unfortunately); you’re trying your best to play it off because you didn’t want what Hyunwoo said to make Kyungsoo uncomfortable. And you’re slightly emotional again. 

“Appa,” Hyuk suddenly interrupts by pulling on his father’s hand. “Ice cream.” He pouts adorably, having been patient enough as his dad talks, but he’s getting anxious to get the ice cream his dad promised him after their doctor visit.  

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N,” Hyunwoo says to you, offering Kyungsoo a curt nod. His hand lingers on your shoulder too long for Kyungsoo’s liking, something he makes apparent after the father and son leaves. 

“Isn’t he a little too comfortable with touching a woman that’s not his wife?” Kyungsoo mutters. 

“What? Hyunwoo oppa? He’s not married,” You say, bewildered and slightly peeved by Kyungsoo’s tone of voice.

Kyungsoo frown deepens. “What?” 

“He’s a single father, Soo. His wife passed during childbirth, so it’s only him and Hyuk.” 

If the ground could open up and swallow Kyungsoo whole, he’d like that every much. God, he feels like a complete douchebag. He didn’t even have the right to feel...jealous, not when you weren’t his g-

“You could be really insensitive sometimes, you know that?”

“What? I didn’t know!” Kyungsoo voiced loud enough to attract the attention of the workers. You shot a glare at him to not start, not now. “That’s not fair, Y/N. I’m sorry that I don’t know everyone that’s in your life, and the details of their lives.” Maybe we don’t even know each other. “Maybe I should be sorry for moving back here in the first place,” Kyungsoo snaps. 

The thought has crossed your mind, of why Kyungsoo decided to come back. A foolish part of you allow you to think that you were the reason. Your eyes are flooded with tears before you could try to will them to stop, wallowing up so high until they had no choice but to let gravity pull them down. Kyungsoo’s heart drops to his stomach seeing you cry, wanting to apologize immediately when he knows just how fucked up what he just said was. 

Feeling hopeless and utterly gutted, you managed to lock eyes with Kyungsoo, rendering him speechless. You nod once in silence, unable to speak at this point, letting more tears trickle down your face before you’re getting up and walking out of the ice cream shop. 

---

Would you have believed Kyungsoo if he told you that he sort of started loving you from the very beginning? Okay, okay, maybe not from when you almost broke his arm from pushing him too hard on the swings. Maybe it’s from when you consoled him after catching him crying, that was when you were fourteen.

Kyungsoo sure as hell think not, just like how you didn’t believe Chanyeol. Kyungsoo’s exhausted the idea of you and him as something more than best friends at this point, and somehow he was still not sure-- not confident that either of you would be happy being together. He tried distancing you, doing the most as to move back to his hometown to study and start up a new life, leaving you behind. But distance be damned because Kyungsoo couldn’t stop thinking about you. Of your stupid quarells, getting heated over debates about trivial matters. You serving him burnt food with a guilty smile on your face. You falling asleep while studying together, and you crying because you hate studying period. 

Kyungsoo can function perfectly without you. He cooks well, studies well, earn well, even socialize well contrary to popular belief. But when he’s alone in his bed at night, reflecting on his day, he finds nothing remotely significant to end his day with. It was honestly how he finally gave up on his act of “busy settling in” and finally gather the nerve to call you. Since then, phone and video calls were the loopholes to his effort to stop...feeling things for you. When it became too difficult to not see or talk to you, that’s when he finally snapped out of it. He found himself a nice girl in his engineering club and they dated for a few months. She was smart, pretty, and a lot like his first girlfriend. Then he realized what a shitty thing it was to do, use a girl as a distraction from who he really wanted, and broke up with her. 

Kyungsoo knows when he has messed up. He doesn’t apologize often but he does when it counts. He knows today’s event went considerable south because he was simply too cowardly to admit that he loves you, and that he wants and maybe even needs you. Kyungsoo realizes, albeit late, that he’s fucked up. Royally. And he needs to act before he regrets it.

---

The rest of your family is out of town, visiting relatives in the city, so when the doorbell rings, at 1 in the morning no less, you’re worried that something’s gone wrong. 

With a nervous heart, you open the door only to reveal Kyungsoo. His frown is deeper than ever, his hair messy like he couldn’t stop running his fingers through them all night. 

You let out an audible groan. “What are you doing here, Soo? God, I thought,” you pause mid sentence, scared to voice out your pessimistic thoughts for the universe to hear. 

“Can I come in?” 

Without answering, you wordlessly retreat into the house as Kyungsoo closes the door and follows behind you. You start to put on the kettle to brew some tea. After that scare that woke you up, you’ll need some help falling back to sleep. 

“What do you want? What’s so important that you have to scare me shitless when I have to be awake in five hours?” 

You’re standing by the kettle, watching it closely with your arms crossed, hips resting against the counters. Your countenance exudes hostility, but inside your nerves eats away at your insecurities. 

Kyungsoo stands a few feet away, looking stiff and troubled as he figures out what to say. He promised himself he was going to do it, now, tonight. 

“Do, do you know why I moved back?” Kyungsoo takes one step closer towards you, beginning to round the island. 

You make a face. “What?” He repeats his question and this time you answer. “Yes. You moved back because you got relocated for your job,” you say, confidence flowing through your voice. 

Kyungsoo smiles woefully. “And how about why I moved away in the first place?” 

“This is getting ridiculous. The answers to these questions are so obvious that I don’t understand why you’re asking me this, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo makes his way closer. “No, they’re not that obvious, Y/N, because you’re wrong.” 

With less than five feet between you two, you’re getting unnerved by the sher scent of him that emits and propagates the kitchen space. Kyungsoo doesn’t look away from you once, as he continues speaking. 

“The answers to both of these questions are the same. There’s only one single person in this whole world that can turn and flip my world upside down and it’s you, Y/N. I left because I couldn’t be with you; staying next to you while feeling the way I did towards you and not lose myself in you. We pick fights with each other like it’s our job, and we forgive each other in the end like it’s a given. But I didn’t want that. I wanted,” Kyungsoo falters, before continuing. “To hold your hands, to kiss...to kiss away your tears, and be the man you deserved.”

“I felt stuck between being your best friend and wanting to be more. I got frustrated because whenever I looked at you, at us, all the signs in the universe said that we wouldn’t work. I did what I thought was best and left, but it was the stupidest decision I ever made because I never, ever stopped liking you once after I realized the way I felt. I can’t go on, not having you know this. And I know it was cowardly of me to do that...I know that you might not...not feel an ounce of romantic feelings for me, but I’d rather tell you now before it’s too late.” 

Following Kyungsoo’s confession, there’s only the sound of the water boiling rapidly filling the air. Kyungsoo brings it upon himself to walk over and turn off the fire, but that also meant walking closer to you; you who is stagnant, utterly speechless at the revelation. Your ears heard the words Kyungsoo said, but your brain short circuit the minute he said the words ‘feelings’ and ‘you’ in the same sentence with the pretense that he. Fucking. Loved. You. 

“Y/N, say something, please.” 

“Give me a sec,” you growl, gnawing at your lips. It’s bad enough that this is how you have to confess, but to realize that you both could’ve just said something years ago and you wouldn’t have cried your stupid heart out. Zeroing on that thought alone, your first instinct was to stir a fight. 

“I can’t fucking believe you made me cry all those times just because you couldn’t-- okay, fine. I’m also at fault because I’ve liked you since god knows how long and didn’t say anything, but,” you pause abruptly to finally look at Kyungsoo in the eyes, and you notice how he’s just inches away. You’re aware of the warmth that his body radiates, and it pulls you in closer. 

It’s Kyungsoo’s turn to be confused because, what, you liked him too, and for how long? He really wants to punch himself. 

“Look, we can’t turn back time, so we’ll just leave it at that,” Kyungsoo says, reaching for your hand. When he finally grasp it, it’s small and soft compared to his and he thinks for a moment that he wouldn’t mind holding your hand for the rest of his life. “I’m sorry for being a coward, sorry for making you cry when all I wanted was for you to be happy, and healthy. I promise to try my best because that’s what you deserve.” 

You’re mad blushing and frowning at what he said. “We have to make up for loss time though, somehow. God, we’re so stupid.” You stare intently at your intertwined hands, heart fluttering at how Kyungsoo draws his thumbs across your knuckles as if he was familiarizing himself with your hands. He swings it back and fro absentmindedly. 

“I’m in no rush,” he says. “Baby steps, anything is fine with me.” He tugs a little more intently, pulling you towards him. You think you might die with how many butterflies are living in your stomach and how he makes your heart pound erratically. Next thing you know, you’re untangling your fingers from his’, disappointment briefly falling on his face, but then you’re wrapping your arms around his waist. You’re so warm, from blushing no less, and he feels it through your clothes as your body mold against his. 

With some bit of confidence with not having to look at Kyungsoo in the eyes, you softly ask, “Does that mean you’re not even going to kiss me?”

You think-- think-- you felt Kyungsoo’s heart skip a beat, but it could’ve been your own heart also. Kyungsoo hums, as if contemplating, which makes you nervous because maybe you shouldn’t have asked. But then he grabs your arms from around his waist and unleashes himself from your embrace, keeping your hands safely in his. Kyungsoo peers into your perturbed eyes before dropping his gaze to your lips. He gives you half of a smile, one filled with adoration, and leans in to plant a kiss. You’re pleasantly surprised with the forehead kiss he gives you, sending a new wave of warmth across your cheeks and spread down your neck; the butterflies decidedly have settled to live permanently in your tummy.  

Kyungsoo pulls away after eons have passed. “Baby steps,” he murmurs, rubbing your exposed arms when he feels goosebumps manifesting.

Baby steps, he says, but Kyungsoo doesn’t tell you how he might not sleep a wink if he chooses to kiss your lips. Someday he will, but for tonight, he basks in the feeling of you in his arms in the middle of your kitchen, kettle long forgotten. Though he almost, almost, threw out all his inhibitions when you send him off with a kiss on his cheek, treading a little too close to his lips, and whisper good night.