heevan

‎‎He looked exactly like someone who belonged there.

‎‎The type of student professors used as an example during lectures and somehow managed to make intelligence look effortless.

‎‎It was deeply unfair that someone could also be that attractive.

‎‎Your advisor had practically cornered you after class the previous week.

‎‎"Your literature grade isn't impossible to save," she insisted while handing you a small slip of paper with a name and phone number scribbled across it. "But only if you let someone help you."

‎‎You'd stared at the name.

‎‎Lee Heeseung.

‎‎Top student in the department.

‎‎Highest GPA.

‎‎Recommended tutor.

‎‎You had imagined someone intimidating before you ever met him.

‎‎Someone who would make you feel stupid for confusing symbolism with foreshadowing or forgetting literary terms halfway through discussions. Maybe someone overly serious with an ego inflated by perfect grades.

‎‎Instead...

‎‎The boy sitting across from you looked up the moment he heard your hesitant footsteps.

‎‎His eyes met yours, soft brown and startlingly warm.

‎‎For a second, he simply blinked.

‎‎Then he smiled.

‎‎It wasn't forced.

‎‎It was the kind of smile that reached his eyes first, gentle enough to loosen something in your chest before either of you had even spoken.

‎‎"You must be..." He glanced briefly at the notebook beside him before saying your name with surprising confidence. "Hi."

‎‎His voice was quieter than you expected.

‎‎You nodded awkwardly.

‎‎"Sorry I'm late."

‎‎"You're exactly two minutes early."

‎‎You frowned.

‎‎"...What?"

‎‎He looked down at the watch on his wrist before smiling again.

‎‎"Our session starts at three."

‎You checked your phone.

‎2:58 PM.

‎"...Oh."

‎"I like getting here early."

‎Of course he did.

‎For some reason, that tiny detail made you laugh.

‎Heeseung laughed too.

‎The nervous knot sitting in your stomach loosened instantly.

‎He gestured toward the empty chair across from him.

‎"Sit."

‎You settled into the chair, quietly pulling your notebook from your bag while trying not to notice how neat everything around him looked compared to the complete disaster living inside your backpack.

‎"You said you've been struggling with Romantic poetry?"

‎You groaned dramatically.

‎"I think Wordsworth personally hates me."

‎A tiny laugh escaped him.

‎"I don't think he's ever met you."

‎"It feels personal."

‎His shoulders shook with another quiet laugh.

‎Cute.

‎He slid one of his annotated pages toward you.

‎Instead of immediately explaining the poem like every tutor you'd ever had, he simply waited.

‎"What do you think it's trying to say?"

‎You stared blankly at the page.

‎"...That nature exists?"

‎He chuckled.

‎"Technically... yes."

‎"I knew it."

‎"But there's more."

‎He never interrupted when you spoke.

‎When you stumbled over your explanation, he simply tilted his head, listened until you finished, and asked another question instead of telling you that you were wrong.

‎Slowly...

‎Piece by piece...

‎He guided you toward the answer without making you feel like you'd failed.

‎It was strangely comforting.

‎"You don't have to rush," he murmured after noticing you growing frustrated.

‎His voice was low enough that it barely carried beyond your table.

‎He turned the book around so you could see the highlighted lines.

‎"Literature isn't about finding the fastest answer."

‎His fingertip traced beneath a sentence.

‎"It's about sitting with the words."

‎His eyes lifted to yours.

‎‎"Sometimes the best interpretations come after you've let them settle in your chest for a while."

‎‎You weren't entirely sure whether he was still talking about poetry.

‎‎By the end of that first session, you'd understood the chapter better than you had after three weeks of lectures.

‎‎By the time you walked back to your dorm that evening, you found yourself smiling for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with literary analysis.

‎—

‎‎You hadn't expected Tuesdays and Thursdays to become your favorite days of the week.

‎‎At first, you told yourself it was because your grades were finally improving.

‎‎Then you convinced yourself it was because studying felt easier with someone patient sitting across from you.

‎‎Eventually...

‎‎You stopped lying to yourself.

‎‎The sessions became something you looked forward to long before they actually happened.

‎‎Heeseung was always there first.

‎‎But it was the small things that started to undo you.

‎‎The way his fingers would brush yours when he passed you a pen. The way he’d lean in close to point at a line in your notebook, his breath warm against your ear as he explained a metaphor. The way his glasses would slip slightly down his nose when he was focused, and how he’d push them back up with his middle finger in that unconsciously attractive gesture.

‎‎By the sixth session, you were completely distracted.

‎‎Heeseung was explaining a particularly difficult passage when his hand rested on the back of your chair, leaning in so close you could smell his clean, woody cologne. His voice was low and steady as always, but your mind kept wandering to how his fingers would feel somewhere else.

‎You shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together under the table.

‎‎Heeseung paused mid-sentence. His eyes flicked down for the briefest moment, then back to your face. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he said nothing. He simply continued explaining the text as if he hadn’t noticed how affected you were.

‎You were mortified.

‎But you were also so needy it was becoming impossible to hide.

‎‎The seventh session, the library was nearly empty. Finals week was approaching, and you had stayed late for an extra session. The overhead lights had been dimmed, leaving only the soft glow of the desk lamp between you.

‎Heeseung was sitting closer than usual, his chair pulled up right beside yours. His hand rested casually on the back of your chair, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder as he pointed at your notes.

‎You were trying — really trying — to focus on the passage he was explaining. But his cologne, the warmth of his body so close, and the way his glasses sat on his nose were making it impossible.

‎Your thighs pressed together again, a soft, involuntary sound escaping your lips.

‎Heeseung stopped talking.

‎For a long moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning.

‎Then his hand moved.

‎It slid slowly from the back of your chair to rest on your thigh, fingers warm through the fabric of your skirt. He didn’t say anything. He simply watched you, calm and controlled, thumb stroking a slow circle against your skin.

‎‎Your breath hitched.

‎Heeseung’s voice was low when he finally spoke.

‎“You’ve been distracted for weeks,” he murmured, eyes dark behind his glasses. “Tell me what you need.”

‎You couldn’t answer. Your face burned with embarrassment.

‎His hand slid higher, pushing your skirt up slowly.

‎“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “Use your words, like I taught you.”

‎“I… I can’t focus,” you whispered, voice shaky. “Not when you’re this close.”

‎A small, satisfied smile curved his lips.

‎“Then stop pretending,” he said, voice dropping. “His fingers finally slipped beneath the fabric, gliding through your slick folds. “So wet already. Just from sitting here pretending to study while I talked.”

‎You whimpered as he circled your clit with deliberate slowness, applying just enough pressure to make your hips twitch.

‎“Stay still,” he ordered, voice dropping. “You don’t get to move until I say so.”

‎He pushed two fingers inside you without warning, curling them perfectly against that spot that made your toes curl. You bit your lip hard to stifle a moan. His fingers moved faster, deeper, thumb pressing firm circles on your clit while his other hand held your thigh open.

‎“Look at you,” he murmured, eyes fixed on where his hand disappeared between your legs. “So pretty when you’re falling apart for your tutor. Does this feel better than studying, princess?”

‎“Yes— fuck— yes,” you gasped, head falling back.

‎He curled his fingers harder, hitting that perfect spot repeatedly until your legs started shaking.

‎“Don’t cum yet,” he commanded, voice rough but controlled. “Hold it for me.”

‎You whined in protest, but obeyed, muscles trembling with the effort. Heeseung watched you with dark fascination, fingers never stopping their relentless rhythm.

‎When you were right on the edge,he finally pulled his fingers out.

‎You cried out at the loss, but heeseung’s eyes darkened.

‎“Not yet.”

‎Your hands moved to his belt with trembling fingers, unbuckling it as he watched you with that steady, observing gaze.

‎He didn’t help.

‎He simply sat there, letting you pull his pants down yourself, revealing how hard he already was.

‎Heeseung leaned back slightly, one hand resting on your thigh as you freed him. His cock was thick and flushed, the tip already glistening.

‎“Look at you,” he murmured, voice calm but rough around the edges. “So eager for your tutor’s cock.”

‎He took your hand and wrapped it around him, guiding you to stroke him slowly.

‎“That’s it,” he praised quietly. “Nice and slow. Feel how hard you make me.”

‎You stroked him for what felt like forever, your own arousal dripping down your thighs as he watched you with dark, controlled eyes. Heeseung was breathing heavier now, but he never lost that calm dominance.

‎Finally, he pulled your hand away.

‎“Enough teasing,” he said. “Sit on my lap.”

‎You straddled him on the chair, skirt bunched around your waist. He rubbed the head of his cock against your slick entrance, teasing your clit with slow, deliberate movements for a long, torturous minute.

‎You whimpered, hips trying to sink down, but he held you in place with a firm grip on your waist. He didn’t push inside. Instead, he gripped your hips and guided you to grind against him, sliding your wetness along his entire length.

‎“Grind on me,” he ordered, voice rough. “Use my cock like a good girl. Let me feel how desperate you are.”

‎You obeyed immediately, rolling your hips desperately, the pressure of his thick cock rubbing against your clit driving you insane. The friction was perfect but not enough. You were so needy, so impatient, that your movements became frantic, chasing more.

‎Heeseung watched you with dark, controlled eyes, hands gripping your hips to guide your rhythm.

‎“Look at you,” he murmured, voice calm even as his cock throbbed beneath you. “So impatient. Grinding on your tutor’s cock like you can’t control yourself.”

‎You whimpered, grinding harder, the head of his cock catching against your entrance with every roll of your hips. The teasing pressure was driving you crazy.

‎Then it happened.

‎You moved too eagerly, too desperately, and the head of his cock slipped inside you — just the tip, stretching you open.

‎You gasped sharply, freezing at the sudden fullness.

‎Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened, a low groan escaping him.

‎“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes fluttering for a second. “Look what you did, princess.”

‎He didn’t push deeper. He simply held you there, the head of his cock nestled just inside you, throbbing with the effort of staying still.

‎“You wanted it so badly you couldn’t even wait,” he said, voice dark and teasing. “Such a needy little thing.”

‎You whimpered, trying to sink down further, but his hands held you firmly in place.

‎“Not yet,” he commanded, eyes locked on where you were barely connected. “Stay right there. Feel how much you need me.” You were so wet, so desperate, that even just the tip of him felt overwhelming. Your hips twitched involuntarily, trying to take more, but Heeseung’s grip was unyielding.

‎“Please,” you begged, voice breaking. “Please, Heeseung—”

‎He finally gave in with a low groan, pulling you down onto him in one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

‎You moaned loudly at the sudden fullness, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you completely.

‎Heeseung’s hands gripped your hips harder, holding you still for a moment as he savored the feeling.

‎“Fuck,” he breathed, forehead pressed to yours. “So tight. So perfect for me.”

‎Then he started moving — deep, steady thrusts that made the chair creak beneath you.

‎“Ride me,” he ordered, voice rough but controlled. “Show me how much you’ve been needing this.”

‎You obeyed, rolling your hips desperately, chasing the pleasure only he could give you. Heeseung watched you the entire time, eyes dark and focused behind his slightly fogged glasses, taking in every moan, every tremble, every desperate movement.

‎When you were right on the edge, shaking and whimpering, he gripped your hips harder and thrust up into you with more force.

‎“Cum for me,” he commanded. “Right now.”

‎You shattered around him with a broken cry, clenching hard as waves of pleasure ripped through you. Heeseung followed moments later, burying himself deep and groaning your name as he came inside you, hips stuttering with the force of it.

‎‎ For a long moment, the only sounds were your shared heavy breathing.

‎Heeseung stayed inside you, forehead pressed to yours, one hand gently stroking your thigh as you both came down.

‎“Good girl,” he whispered tenderly. “You did so well for me.”

‎Tonight was one of those nights.

‎Rain tapped softly against the windows while you sat curled up beside Minju on the couch, both of you wrapped in blankets with mugs of hot chocolate warming your hands. Some drama played on the television, but neither of you were paying much attention anymore.

‎Sunghoon had left about twenty minutes ago after returning the notes he borrowed from you earlier that week.

‎Lately, he had become a constant presence in your life.

‎It happened naturally.

‎You shared the same major, ended up in several classes together, and discovered very quickly that you both preferred quiet spaces over loud parties. He liked tiny cafés hidden in side streets and old bookstores that smelled like dust and paper. He was calm in a way that soothed you. Never overbearing. Never invasive.

‎He never asked questions you didn’t want to answer.

‎And maybe that was why being around him felt easy.

‎“You know,” Minju suddenly said, turning toward you with dramatic suspicion in her eyes, “I still cannot believe you’re dating Mr. Lee.”

‎You groaned immediately. “Minju.”

‎“No, seriously.” She pointed at you accusingly. “OUR Mr. Lee. The hot teacher everyone had a crush on. And you kept it a secret from me.”

‎Your face warmed instantly despite hearing this speech at least twenty times already.

‎Minju found out last week completely by accident.

‎You had fallen asleep on the couch while studying, your phone forgotten beside you. When a late-night call lit up the screen with heeseung ♡, she saw it.

‎The screaming that followed nearly killed you.

‎“Since WHEN?!” she had shrieked while violently shaking your shoulders. “YOU WERE GATEKEEPING THIS MAN FROM ME?”

‎You tried explaining that it wasn’t exactly something easy to announce casually.

‎Hey, by the way, remember our English teacher that everyone is obsessed with? Yeah, I’m secretly dating him.

‎Minju had spent the next three hours demanding every detail possible.

‎Now she brought him up constantly.

‎“So?” she asked now, nudging your knee with hers. “Does he still call every day?”

‎The smile on your face softened slightly.

‎“Not every day anymore,” you admitted quietly. “We both got busy.”

‎Minju’s expression shifted immediately.

‎Because despite how hard you tried hiding it, she noticed things.

‎She noticed how often you stared at your phone now.

‎How your mood dimmed when hours passed without messages.

‎How your smile looked smaller whenever his calls ended too quickly.

‎Long distance was harder than you expected.

‎In the beginning, it almost felt romantic.

‎Heeseung called every single night no matter how exhausted he was. Sometimes he stayed awake until four in the morning his time just to hear your voice while you walked back from class. He listened to you ramble about professors, assignments, new foods you tried, random strangers you encountered on the subway.

‎And he told you everything too.

‎How empty the apartment felt without you.

‎How he kept instinctively cooking enough food for two before remembering you weren’t there anymore.

‎You missed him so badly it physically hurt sometimes.

‎But slowly, reality settled in.

‎Work piled up for him. Midterms consumed you. Time zones became cruel.

‎Calls turned shorter.

‎Then less frequent.

‎Once or twice a week became normal.

‎You understood. Truly, you did.

‎But understanding something didn’t stop it from hurting.

‎Minju reached over quietly and squeezed your hand.

‎“Don't overthink it,” she said softly.

‎You nodded. but still...

‎What if distance changes people?

‎What if he realizes life is easier without you there?

‎What if you’re the only one still counting days?

‎Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating on the coffee table.

‎Minju gasped dramatically. “Speak of the devil.”

‎You rolled your eyes but answered immediately.

‎His face appeared on screen, slightly grainy from weak connection, yet still handsome.

‎He looked tired.

‎Dark hoodie. Messy hair. Soft eyes.

‎God, you missed him.

‎“Hi,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

‎His expression melted almost immediately.

‎“There’s my girl.”

‎Minju gagged loudly beside you.

‎You shoved her away while Heeseung laughed softly through the screen.

‎The sound alone made your chest ache.

‎The call started like usual.

‎You told him about your disastrous quiz earlier that morning. He listened with quiet amusement while occasionally teasing you for overthinking everything. He talked about work and showed you the pathetic excuse of dinner he made earlier.

‎At some point, Minju suddenly lunged into frame.

‎“Heeseung~!” she sang dramatically.

‎He blinked before laughing. “Hello to you too.”

‎“I approve of this relationship,” she informed him seriously.

‎Heeseung placed a hand over his chest. “Thank you.”

‎Minju winked at you before finally disappearing toward the kitchen.

‎Silence settled afterward.

‎Comfortable.

‎Warm.

‎The kind that only existed between people deeply familiar with each other.

‎Heeseung studied your face quietly through the screen.

‎“You look tired,” he murmured.

‎“So do you.”

‎“Work.”

‎“classes.”

‎He smiled faintly. “Fair enough.”

‎For a moment neither of you spoke.

‎Then his gaze shifted slightly.

‎“I saw your story earlier.”

‎You blinked. “Hm?”

‎“You and Sunghoon.”

‎Ah.

‎Your stomach tightened slightly.

‎Earlier that afternoon, Minju uploaded a picture of the three of you studying together at a café. You hadn’t thought much about it.

‎“He’s just a friend,” you said gently. “We study together all the time.”

‎“I know.”

‎But something in his expression told you he still hated it.

‎“He seems nice,” he added casually.

‎Too casually.

‎You knew him well enough to hear the jealousy beneath it.

‎A small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.

‎“You’re jealous.”

‎“I’m not jealous.”

‎“You absolutely are.”

‎He sighed dramatically. “Okay, maybe a little.”

‎The honesty made your chest warm.

‎“Heeseung,” you said softly, “you don’t have to worry about him.”

‎His eyes lifted back to yours.

‎“He’s nothing compared to you.”

‎“I know,” he admitted quietly. “I just hate being so far away from you.”

‎The vulnerability in his voice nearly broke you.

‎“I miss you,” he whispered.

‎You swallowed hard.

‎“I miss you too.”

‎And you did.

‎In ways words couldn’t fully explain.

‎You missed waking up tangled in his sheets.

‎After the call ended that night, you stayed awake much longer than necessary staring at the ceiling while rain continued falling outside.

‎Somewhere across the world, Heeseung was probably doing the same.

‎—

‎The next few days passed in a blur of assignments, lectures, and exhaustion.

‎Heeseung became quieter.

‎Not cold. Not distant intentionally.

‎Just… quieter.

‎His replies came slower. Calls stopped entirely for three days.

‎You told yourself not to overthink it.

‎He was busy.

‎You were busy too.

‎Still, anxiety settled heavily in your chest anyway.

‎By Friday night, Minju finally forced you out of the apartment after listening to you sigh dramatically for nearly two hours straight.

‎“You need air,” she declared.

‎So now you found yourself walking beside Sunghoon through dimly lit streets after a late study session downtown.

‎Cold wind swept through the city, carrying the scent of rain and distant traffic.

‎Sunghoon adjusted the strap of his bag while glancing toward you.

‎“You’ve been distracted lately.”

‎You sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

‎“A little.”

‎You laughed weakly.

‎“Long distance relationship sucks,” you admitted quietly.

‎Sunghoon nodded slowly like he understood more than he said aloud.

‎“I think anyone would struggle with that.”

‎Before you could answer, your apartment building came into view.

‎Finally.

‎You were exhausted.

‎The lights inside your apartment glowed warmly through the windows upstairs.

‎Minju must be home already.

‎You and Sunghoon stepped into the elevator together, silence settling comfortably between you during the ride upward.

‎When you reached your floor, he followed you down the hallway carrying one of your heavy bags despite your protests.

‎“You know,” you muttered while digging for your keys, “you really don’t have to keep walking me home every time.”

‎“It’s late.”

‎“I’m capable of surviving alone for five minutes.”

‎“Maybe,” he replied dryly. “But I’d rather make sure.”

‎You laughed softly.

‎Then finally unlocked the door.

‎The apartment was dark except for warm light spilling from the kitchen.

‎You frowned slightly.

‎“Minju?” you called out.

‎No answer.

‎Weird.

‎You stepped inside slowly while Sunghoon followed behind you.

‎And then you saw him.

‎Heeseung stood in the middle of the living room hair slightly messy from travel, eyes fixed entirely on you.

‎Everything inside you stopped.

‎For one disorienting second, you genuinely thought you were imagining him.

‎“Heeseung?”

‎His expression softened instantly at the sound of your voice.

‎“Surprise.”

‎The bags slipped from your hands onto the floor.

‎Then suddenly you were moving.

‎You crossed the room so quickly you nearly crashed into him, throwing your arms around his neck while a shocked laugh escaped you.

‎“Oh my God—”

‎He caught you immediately, holding you so tightly it almost hurt.

‎“You’re here,” you breathed.

‎“I’m here.”

‎Your heart hammered violently against your ribs.

‎“You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

‎“I wanted to surprise you and minju was here but left saying she had somewhere to be.”

‎You pulled back just enough to look at him properly.

‎God.

‎He looked exhausted.

‎Emotion surged so intensely through you it nearly overwhelmed you.

‎You missed him.

‎You missed him so much.

‎Behind you, Sunghoon cleared his throat awkwardly.

‎Right.

‎You almost forgot he was there.

‎“I should probably head out,” he said quietly.

‎The atmosphere shifted instantly.

‎Subtly.

‎But enough.

‎You felt Heeseung’s arms tighten around your waist slightly.

‎“I’ll walk you out,” you started automatically.

‎But before you could move, Heeseung’s hand slid gently around your wrist.

‎“He can see himself out,” he said lightly.

‎Too lightly.

‎Your eyes flickered toward him immediately.

‎Sunghoon seemed to understand the tension at once because he gave a small nod.

‎“It’s okay,” he said calmly. “Goodnight.”

‎“Goodnight,” you replied softly.

‎The door closed behind him.

‎Silence followed.

‎Heavy.

‎The warmth from moments earlier disappeared almost instantly.

‎You turned back toward Heeseung slowly.

‎His jaw was tight.

‎“What was that?” you asked quietly.

‎He laughed once under his breath, though there was no humor in it.

‎“What?”

‎“The attitude.”

‎“I didn’t have an attitude.”

‎“You did.”

‎He turned away briefly, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration.

‎“He walked you home.”

‎“Yes?”

‎“At night.”

‎You stared at him incredulously.

‎“Heeseung—”

‎“If I wasn’t here tonight… would you have let him stay the night too?”

‎The question hit harder than expected.

‎You opened your mouth immediately.

‎henThen closed it again.

‎Because suddenly you realized nothing you said would actually matter right now.

‎Not when jealousy already clouded his thoughts.

‎You looked down instead, blinking rapidly against the sting suddenly burning behind your eyes.

‎“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

‎The second the words left your mouth, regret crashed across his face.

‎“Baby—”

‎He stepped toward you instantly.

‎“No, no,” he muttered, voice softer now. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

‎You shook your head quickly even though tears were already gathering.

‎“I didn’t mean it like that.”

‎“I know.”

‎He cupped your face gently, forcing you to look at him.

‎“I’m being a dick,” he admitted quietly. “I know I am.”

‎Your eyes burned.

‎“I just missed you.”

‎The honesty in your voice shattered whatever defensive wall remained inside him.

‎His expression crumpled immediately.

‎“I missed you too,” he whispered painfully.

‎And suddenly he was pulling you against him again, arms wrapped around your body so tightly like he genuinely feared letting go.

‎You melted into him instantly.

‎The familiar warmth.

‎The familiar scent.

‎“I’m sorry,” he murmured against your hair. “Please don’t cry.”

‎That only made tears spill faster.

‎A weak laugh escaped you through them.

‎“You’re mean.”

‎“I know.”

‎His thumbs wiped gently beneath your eyes while guilt consumed his expression.

‎“I swear I didn’t fly across the world to fight with you.”

‎You laughed again despite yourself.

‎Relief softened his face instantly at the sound.

‎“There’s my girl.”

‎Before you could respond, his mouth crashed softly against yours.

‎The kiss started gentle.

‎Careful.

‎Almost apologetic.

‎But within seconds, it deepened into something desperate.

‎You clutched his hoodie tightly while his hands slid against your waist like he needed physical proof you were really here.

‎When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing harder.

‎“You have no idea how hard it was not seeing you,” he whispered against your lips.

‎Your heart nearly gave out.

‎He rested his forehead against yours for a moment before suddenly grimacing.

‎“Wait.”

‎“What?”

‎“I cooked for you.”

‎You blinked.

‎“You what?”

‎His ears flushed slightly pink.

‎“I tried.”

‎Curious, you followed him toward the kitchen.

‎The small table was covered with food.

‎Your favorite dishes.

‎“Heeseung…”

‎He looked weirdly nervous now.

‎“I had Minju help me find ingredients,” he admitted. “I think I messed up the sauce though.”

‎“You made all this for me?”

‎You stepped closer slowly before taking a bite from one of the dishes.

‎The second you hummed approvingly, his shoulders visibly relaxed.

‎“It’s good?” he asked immediately.

‎“It’s really good.”

‎Relief flashed across his face so dramatically you almost laughed.

‎You took another bite before narrowing your eyes playfully.

‎“Are you planning to quit teaching and become a chef?”

‎He snorted softly.

‎“I think the world deserves better food than this.”

‎You leaned against the counter while he stood close between your knees, arms loosely around your waist.

‎“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” you whispered.

‎“I couldn’t wait anymore.”

‎Something vulnerable flickered briefly across his face.

‎“The apartment felt wrong without you.”

‎You reached up gently, brushing hair away from his forehead.

‎“You should’ve told me.”

‎“And ruin the surprise?”

‎You smiled softly.

‎“That explains why Minju kept texting me to hurry home.”

‎“She threatened my life if I ruined the surprise myself.”

‎“That sounds like her.”

‎He laughed quietly before his expression shifted again.

‎Softer now.

‎Hungrier.

‎His fingers slid beneath the hem of your sweater slowly.

‎“You know,” he murmured against your neck, “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.”

‎Heat rushed immediately to your face.

‎“Heeseung—”

‎“I’m serious.”

‎His lips brushed your throat lightly, sending shivers down your spine.

‎“You have no idea how hard long distance has been for me.”

‎Your hands instinctively slid into his hair.

‎He sighed softly against your skin.

‎The sound alone nearly melted you.

‎“I missed touching you,” he admitted quietly.

‎Your breathing turned uneven as his mouth traveled slowly along your neck.

‎The warmth of his hands beneath your shirt made your pulse race harder.

‎“Heeseung…”

‎“Hm?”

‎“We should probably eat before the food gets cold.”

‎“I can reheat it.”

‎You laughed breathlessly.

‎His grin appeared briefly against your skin before he kissed just below your jaw again, slower this time, more deliberate.

‎The tension building between you after months apart felt almost unbearable now.

‎His hands tightened around your waist before effortlessly lifting you onto the kitchen counter.

‎A startled laugh escaped you.

‎He stepped between your knees immediately.

‎Dangerously close.

‎“You’re pretty,” he murmured softly, staring at you like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of months.

‎Your stomach flipped violently.

‎Then he kissed you again.

‎Deeper.

‎Like he wanted to savor every second.

‎Your fingers curled tightly into his hoodie while his hands wandered carefully beneath your shirt, warm against your skin.

‎His lips moved from yours down toward your jaw, then lower again until your breathing turned shaky.

‎“Heeseung—”

‎The sound of keys rattling at the front door froze both of you instantly.

‎Silence.

‎Then—

‎“I’m home~!” Minju called cheerfully from the entrance. “Did you miss m—”

‎She stopped mid-sentence.

‎You and Heeseung turned simultaneously toward the doorway.

‎Minju stood completely frozen.

‎Her eyes widened slowly as she took in the scene before her.

‎You sitting flushed on the kitchen counter.

‎Heeseung standing between your legs.

‎His hands still very obviously under your shirt.

‎For three full seconds, nobody moved.

‎Then Minju inhaled sharply.

‎“Oh,” she whispered.

‎Another beat of silence.

‎Then louder—

‎“Oh my GOD.”

‎You immediately shoved Heeseung backward in horror.

‎“MINJU—”

‎She pointed at both of you violently.

‎“I LEAVE FOR ONE HOUR.”

‎Heeseung looked seconds away from dying of embarrassment.

‎Meanwhile Minju looked absolutely delighted.

‎“I cannot believe I walked into this,” she shrieked while dropping her bag dramatically onto the floor. “This is the best day of my life.”

‎“Minju,” he greeted, voice calm but slightly hoarse. “Nice to see you again.”

‎Minju pointed dramatically between the two of you. “Mr. Lee… Sir… I respected you as my teacher for an entire year. And now I walk in on you about to defile my best friend on the kitchen counter? The audacity!”

‎You buried your burning face in Heeseung’s shoulder, mortified. “Minju, please—”

‎“No, no, let me enjoy this moment,” she grinned, clearly having the time of her life. “I always knew there was something going on between you two. The way you looked at each other in class?”

‎Heeseung chuckled, the sound low and warm against your hair. “Glad we had your approval.”

‎Minju waved her hand. “Oh, you have it. Fully. But my boyfriend is waiting downstairs and I only came back to grab my charger.” She winked at you. “You two have the apartment to yourselves tonight. Please… continue whatever you were doing. Just maybe disinfect the counter afterward. For my mental health.”

‎She grabbed her charger from the living room, still giggling to herself.

‎"Goodnight!”

‎The door clicked shut behind her.

‎You let out a long, embarrassed groan, hiding your face completely in Heeseung’s neck. “I’m never going to live this down.”

‎Heeseung laughed softly, arms tightening around you. “She’s funny. I like her.” He tilted your chin up, eyes dark and full of warmth.

‎“Where were we?”

‎‎You laughed despite yourself, pressing your forehead against his.

‎“I think we were about to traumatize Minju for life.”

‎He groaned dramatically.

‎“Right. Tragic.”

‎“Very tragic.”

‎For a moment, neither of you moved.

‎You simply looked at each other.

‎No phone screen between you.

‎No bad connection.

‎Just him.

‎Just you.

‎His thumb brushed softly across your cheek.

‎“You've changed.”

‎Your heart dropped slightly.

‎“Oh.”

‎Immediately, his expression panicked.

‎“No, not like that.”

‎You laughed.

‎He winced. “What I mean is... you seem happier.”

‎The words caught you off guard.

‎Because he was right.

‎Toronto had changed you.

‎You were more confident now.

‎More independent.

‎You'd found a version of yourself you never knew existed.

‎And somehow...

‎He still looked at you exactly the same.

‎“You changed too,” you said quietly.

‎“Yeah?”

‎“You stopped sleeping.”

‎He laughed. “That's fair.”

‎“Your eye bags are terrible.”

‎“Wow.”

‎“They are.”

‎“You really know how to welcome a guy after an eight-hour flight.”

‎You grinned.

‎He stared at you for a second before shaking his head.

‎The smile slowly faded from your face.

‎Because beneath the jokes and teasing and relief...

‎There was still something neither of you had talked about.

‎His expression softened.

‎“Hey.”

‎You looked up.

‎“We're okay.”

‎Your throat tightened.

‎“Are we?”

‎His eyes never left yours.

‎“Yes.”

‎Simple.

‎Certain.

‎“Long distance sucks,” he admitted.

‎“I know.”

‎“I hate it.”

‎“I know.”

‎“I hate not knowing what your day looked like.”

‎You smiled weakly.

‎“And I really hate Sunghoon.”

‎A surprised laugh escaped you.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎You shoved his shoulder.

‎He laughed before pulling you back against him.

‎His voice became quieter.

‎More serious.

‎“But none of that changes how I feel about you.”

‎“I love you.”

‎Your breath caught.

‎“I love you too.”

‎His smile appeared instantly.

‎The kind that always made your heart skip.

‎—

‎The next morning, sunlight spilled through the apartment windows.

‎The visit to his parents' house wasn't planned.

‎At least not for you.

‎You were halfway through your morning coffee when Heeseung casually announced it from across the kitchen.

‎“We're going somewhere today.”

‎You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

‎“Where?”

‎A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

‎“I'll tell you on the way.”

‎You should have known then.

‎Three hours later, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of a rental car.

‎The farther you drove, the quieter Heeseung became.

‎At first, you thought he was tired.

‎Then you noticed it.

‎The way his fingers tapped nervously against the steering wheel.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎“Hm?”

‎“Where are we going?”

‎“My parents' house.”

‎Your eyes widened.

‎His parents.

‎The parents.

‎The ones he hadn't seen in two years.

‎The ones he left behind when he moved to Seoul.

‎“Heeseung...”

‎His grip tightened slightly around the wheel.

‎“I called them yesterday.”

‎A weak laugh escaped him.

‎“And?”

‎“We talked.”

‎Your heart softened.

‎“Really?”

‎He nodded.

‎“Really.”

‎Outside the window, neighborhoods slowly gave way to quieter streets lined with trees.

‎You reached over and squeezed his hand.

‎He immediately intertwined your fingers.

‎“The thing is...” he continued, eyes fixed on the road, “I spent so much time trying to prove I didn't need them that I forgot they're still my parents.”

‎You leaned your head against his shoulder.

‎Neither of you spoke after that.

‎You didn't need to.

‎—

‎The house was beautiful.

‎Large.

‎You barely had time to process anything before the front door flew open.

‎A woman rushed outside.

‎“Oh my God.”

‎Heeseung froze.

‎His mother grabbed his face between both hands.

‎“Look at you.”

‎You watched his expression crumble.

‎“Hi, Mom.”

‎She pulled him into a hug so tight you thought she might never let go.

‎Then a man appeared behind her.

‎Older.

‎For a moment, nobody moved.

‎Then his father stepped forward.

‎And hugged him too.

‎Just like that.

‎No dramatic speeches.

‎Just a father who missed his son.

‎You looked away quickly, giving them privacy.

‎—

‎Dinner lasted nearly four hours.

‎His mother adored you immediately.

‎His father tried to act intimidating for approximately six minutes before giving up completely.

‎By dessert, they were showing you embarrassing childhood photos.

‎“Oh my God.”

‎You stared at one picture.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎“What?”

‎“You were so cute.”

‎His mother laughed.

‎“He was adorable.”

‎“I was not.”

‎“You absolutely were.”

‎His father nodded.

‎The table erupted into laughter.

‎For the first time since arriving, you saw him relax completely.

‎His mother noticed it too.

‎You caught her smiling softly at him when he wasn't looking.

‎When it was finally time to leave, she hugged you tightly.

‎“Take care of him.”

‎You smiled.

‎“I will.”

‎Then she whispered—

‎“And thank you.”

‎—

‎You thought the day was over.

‎Apparently, you were wrong.

‎Because instead of driving home, Heeseung pulled into a small parking lot overlooking Lake Ontario.

‎The city skyline glittered in the distance.

‎Thousands of lights reflected across the dark water.

‎You leaned your head against his shoulder as the two of you stood near the railing.

‎“You seem happy.”

‎A small smile appeared on his face.

‎“I am.”

‎His answer came so quickly it made your chest ache.

‎For a moment, he simply stared out at the water.

‎Then he took a slow breath.

‎“There's something I need to tell you.”

‎Immediately, your stomach flipped.

‎“Oh no.”

‎He laughed.

‎“Why is that your first reaction?”

‎“Because every time someone says that, something terrible follows.”

‎“I promise it's not terrible.”

‎Then his expression softened.

‎More serious this time.

‎“I applied for a teaching position.”

‎You blinked.

‎“A teaching position?”

‎He nodded.

‎“In Canada.”

‎Your brain completely stopped working.

‎“…What?”

‎“Last month.”

‎“Heeseung.”

‎His ears turned slightly pink.

‎“I wasn't sure anything would come from it.”

‎Your eyes widened.

‎“You applied last month?”

‎“Yeah.”

‎“You didn't tell me?”

‎“I didn't want to get your hopes up.”

‎You stared at him.

‎The realization slowly settled over you.

‎Canada.

‎Not Seoul.

‎Not missing each other every single day.

‎Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

‎“You're moving here?”

‎A nervous laugh escaped him.

‎“If everything goes well.”

‎“Heeseung...”

‎His smile became smaller.

‎Softer.

‎“I got tired of counting down the days until I could see you.”

‎“So I figured...”

‎He stepped closer.

‎“…maybe I should stop making you wait.”

‎“You idiot.”

‎“I know.”

‎You hit his arm.

‎Then immediately threw your arms around him.

‎He laughed, catching you effortlessly.

‎“You couldn't tell me this sooner?”

‎“I wanted to tell you in person.”

‎Your face remained buried in his shoulder.

‎You weren't sure how long you stayed like that.

‎A minute.

‎Maybe longer.

‎Eventually, he pulled back slightly.

‎“There's one more thing.”

‎You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

‎“Why are there so many things?”

‎“Just one.”

‎“You said that last time.”

‎His laugh echoed softly between you.

‎Then he reached into his coat pocket.

‎Your heart skipped.

‎“Oh.”

‎A small velvet box appeared.

‎“Oh.”

‎His smile turned nervous.

‎Very nervous.

‎Which immediately made you nervous too.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎“It's not what you think.”

‎“Then why do you have a box?”

‎“Because jewelry stores put things in boxes.”

‎You stared.

‎He stared back.

‎Neither of you said anything.

‎Then suddenly both of you started laughing.

‎His thumb brushed across the edge of the box.

‎When he opened it, a delicate ring rested inside.

‎Simple.

‎Beautiful.

‎Your breath caught.

‎“Heeseung...”

‎He took the ring out carefully.

‎“This isn't a proposal.”

‎You looked up.

‎His eyes never left yours.

‎“I know you're still studying and have things to achieve.”

‎His voice was quiet.

‎Certain.

‎“And I'm not asking you to marry me tomorrow.”

‎The wind moved softly around you.

‎The city lights shimmered behind him.

‎“I just wanted to give you something.”

‎His fingers wrapped gently around yours.

‎“A promise.”

‎Your throat tightened painfully.

‎“A promise?”

‎He nodded.

‎“That I'm serious about us.”

‎Your vision blurred immediately.

‎“That no matter how long it takes...”

‎His voice softened.

‎“…no matter where life takes us for a while...”

‎Another step closer.

‎“…I'm staying.”

‎A tear slipped down your cheek.

‎He smiled.

‎“I just thought you deserved proof.”

‎You laughed through your tears.

‎“You know normal people buy flowers, right?”

‎“Flowers die.”

‎You laughed harder.

‎His smile widened.

‎Then carefully, he slid the ring onto your finger.

‎It fit perfectly.

‎You simply stared at it.

‎Then at him.

‎Then back at the ring.

‎A grin slowly spread across your face.

‎“So.”

‎His eyes narrowed immediately.

‎“No.”

‎“Does this mean we're engaged?”

‎“Absolutely not.”

‎“Promise ring sounds suspiciously close to pre-engaged.”

‎He groaned.

‎“You are impossible.”

‎You held up your hand dramatically.

‎“Wow. My fiancé is so mean.”

‎“I'm not your fiancé... yet.”

‎“He moved countries for me.”

‎“I applied for a job.”

‎“He bought me a ring.”

‎“It's a promise ring.”

‎“He introduced me to his parents.”

‎His eyes closed briefly.

‎You could physically see the regret.

‎“Oh my God.”

‎Your laughter echoed across the water.

‎A second later, his arms wrapped around your waist.

‎“Keep talking,” he warned.

‎“What are you gonna do? Punish me?”

‎“I will...” he smirked.

‎“Or tell my future in-laws on me?”

‎He immediately buried his face in your shoulder.

‎Completely defeated.

‎You laughed so hard your stomach hurt.

‎The future didn't feel scary anymore.

‎Because no matter what happened next...

‎You wouldn't be facing it alone.

‎The ring gleamed softly beneath the city lights.

‎Not an engagement.

‎Not yet.

‎THE END