♡

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Saturday mornings. Jaemin loved waking up to the smell of pancakes, freshly made by one of his frat brothers, Jeno.

“Morning, sunshine. Had fun last night?” He had a smug grin while flipping the pancakes, proud at the perfect, golden tone they'd acquired.

“Were we too loud?” Jaemin sat in front of the kitchen island, grabbing an apple to chew on while Jeno poured the last bits of the mix into the sizzling pan.

“I think she has been one of the loudest ones yet.” He lowered the heat, turning around to properly see the black-haired boy. “Sounded like you were killing her or something.”

“I was just taking our some stress and she happened to be extremely sensitive. She started whining after the first round.” He tsked, grabbing an apple to chew on while Jeno finished cooking breakfast.

“I don't want to know about your sexual life, thank you very much.” Giving one last flip to the perfect circles, he finally placed them on top of the high tower of pancakes. “So...I heard someone rejected you last night.”

“She was just playing hard to get. You’ll see her walking out of my room next week, tops.”

“I don't think so, Jaems.” Jeno sat beside him, placing the big plate between them. “It’s Moon y/n we're talking about. Her brother is the standard.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You like to fuck around. Moon Taeil, on the other hand, is a gentleman. He used to have the whole school swooning over him with just a smile.” His voice was full of admiration. “She’ll never even lay eyes on you.”

“First of all, ouch. Second, I can be versatile. Remember that church girl who wouldn't even come closer than two feet to me? We've fucked at least twice.” Jeno sighed, slightly disappointed at his friend’s antics.

“I don't mean to be nosy, but I don't think you should treat sex as a meaningless activity. Sex is basically the union between two-”

“Stop before I barf my guts out.”

No power in the world could convince Jaemin to give up booty calls and one-night stands. At least not until he started talking to you.

(...)

“C’mon, darling, I can be more fun than sewing pieces of cloth together.” That strange boy, whose name was still unknown to you, kept following you around for days.

“Call me darling again, and the next things I’ll sew together will be your lips.”

“Alright, y/n. What can I do to convince you to spend some time with me? Perhaps a box of your favorite chocolates?” A spark ignited in his heart as your fingers delicately grabbed his chin. Finally, he thought with the silliest grin on his face.

“Fuck off.”

Needless to say, his infatuation with you worsened. To his frat brothers’ surprise, he hadn't gotten his dick wet ever since he met you. Two weeks prior. A new record for the most infamous fuckboy on campus.

He tried every method he knew. Flowers, chocolates, even a self-written song, but nothing worked. He found himself more drawn to you every day, trying to improve himself to fit your impossibly high standards.

“What are you doing today? Let me take you out for dinner.”

“I wouldn't go out with you even if I had the time.” He loved how stoic your face remained with every bratty reply you spat. It was amusingly strange.

“Homework? I'll help you.”

“A project, and no, thank you.” You entered the workshop, dropping your bag on one of the seats. To your surprise, he sat down on the large table. “Are you gonna stay here?”

“If you allow me to.”

“Even if I don't, you'll stay. So suit yourself.” Just a few minutes after your arrival, you started working, pulling out big rolls of fabric from the wall and extending them over the table.

“How come you're working on a Friday evening?” He left his bag on the same chair as yours, pulling out a thick novel from inside.

“No one is here today. It's easier when I have all the materials for myself.” You dragged the blades of the scissors along the line you'd traced in the linen roll.

The room stayed silent for about fifteen minutes while you grabbed materials, making cuts here and there.

“Make yourself useful and stand up.” His eyes drifted away from the book, surprised to hear you starting a conversation. “Quickly.”

“Sure.” He adopted a soldier-like position, letting you take his measures for what he assumed would be a pair of dressing pants. He felt tingles where your hands brushed, excited to have you close enough he could smell your strong, cedarwood scent. “How much do you despise me?”

“Excuse me?” Your tone was surprised, yet, your eyes were trained on his waist, trying to get his measures correctly.

“I know you don't like me, so that seems like a more suitable question.”

“I don't like you, nor do I hate you. You simply annoy the hell out of me.”

“Would you like me if I were a bit more like your brother?” He wanted to touch those pretty eyelashes that cast shadows over the apples of your cheeks. But doing so would mean an invasion of your personal space, and he wasn't intending to lose the little progress he'd made.

“What makes you think I want someone like my brother?”

“I heard he's every girl’s ideal type.” You snorted, curving your lips in what seemed a crooked smile.

“I think you're both extreme opposites. He’s excessively chivalrous, and you're extremely promiscuous. See the problem?”

“So if I committed myself to you, would you finally accept going out with me?”

“So you know the word commitment?” Your hands retrieved from his waist to take the measures of his bum. He didn't mind having your hands there, but different from his usual confident persona, a slight blush crept up his ears.

“You can teach me.”

“Jaemin, I'm not looking for a one-night stand or a fuckbuddy. And I don't think you're willing to give up fucking every day for me.” Once all of the measures were taken, you wrote them down in a notebook.

“I would be. I don't mind having the same partner always as long as it's you.” He sat down again, crossing his legs to be more comfortable. “Speechless? Imagine how amazing I’d be if we dated.”

“I don't date people I don't trust.” He sighed, redirecting his attention to the chapter he’d left halfway read.

Silence had installed between you again, only the sound of the sewing machine and your pencil filling the space. You spent at least an hour together before he exited the room. Just as you thought he'd finally left you alone, he came back with two hot coffees.

“Here, you need to take a rest.” He allowed himself to place his hands, still warm from holding the steamy liquid, over yours, forcing them to stop their actions. “It’s cold and you need to warm them up. They’re your most prized tools.”

“Thank you.” You held back the need to clarify his sweet talk wasn't going to get him anywhere, accepting the sweet gesture. “God, this is nice.” You hummed, enjoying the warm sensation in your chest.

After a brief break, you went back to sewing and Jaemin to reading. It was already dark by the time you triumphantly rose from your seat, extending a perfect pair of linen pants identical to your original sketch. Jaemin cooed at you from his seat, extending his palm to high-five you. To his surprise, you connected your palms.

“You need me to try them on?” He offered.

“Please.”

“On one condition.” Here comes the Jaemin everyone knew, about to ask for a sexual favor in exchange- “You’ll have to use me as a model for the rest of the semester if you get an A in the assignment.”

“What? You're telling me you want to sit for hours in these uncomfortable ass chairs again?”

“You look cute when you're all concentrated.”

“You know that means giving up frat parties, right?” He nodded with his lips pursed in a smile, dragging a silent gasp from you. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jaemin?”

~

~

“Y/n and Donghyuck.”

An audible groan interrupted the silence of the classroom, followed by a fit of giggles.

“Is there a problem, Donghyuck?” Mr. Kim gave him a stern look, challenging him to complain.

“Not at all, Mr. Kim. I'm sorry.” Haechan glanced at you from the corner of his eye. You remained stoic, drawing something in your sketchbook, face hidden under the black hood of your jacket.

It was one of those days where you dressed fully in black, avoiding any human contact. It wasn't always that way. Some days, you'd giggle with your group of friends as if dark y/n didn't even exist.

“Get together with your partners and start discussing your work plan. There will be no chance to work on it during my class.” The whole room whined, Mr. Kim, smiling at his students’ disgrace. “Move along, now.”

To his surprise, you were the first one to get off your seat.

“My place is free on Tuesdays.” He had to swallow the need to correct your manners. Just a few weeks and it’d be over. He’d gotten through worse.

“Alright. We can meet at mine on Wednesdays if you agree.” You nodded, grabbing one of his pens to write your number on the corner of his notebook. Rude, he thought once again. “I’ll text you tomorrow when I head to your house.” He proposed once you were done vandalizing his belongings.

“Ok.” And you left.

Donghyuck considered himself to be a man of many gifts, but unfortunately, patience wasn't one of them. He texted you that same day to ask for your direction. But you never answered, nor did you bother to open his message. It wasn't until the next day, after school ended, that you sent your location.

“I’m not gonna make it, guys. It's barely day two and I already feel like pushing her off a rooftop.”

“Come on, Haechan. It's not that bad. My partner hasn't even contacted me. It seems like I'm gonna do all the work by myself.” Jeno sighed in defeat, packing his laptop as he spoke. “I’ll get going. Good luck.”

Luck was definitely needed.

After grabbing some food, Haechan headed to your place, which turned out to be only a few blocks away from his. The doorbell was so loud it could be heard from outside.

“Hey, come in.” It seemed to be a good day, as your outfit wasn't completely dark, and you were wearing something similar to a smile. “There are some leftovers in case you get hungry.”

“Thank you.” He hated having to deal with your mood swings. It was like working with two different people. “Let’s start.” The faster we finish, the better, he thought.

You sat in the living room, typing information on your ppt as fast as possible. But despite your efforts, darkness soon took over the sky.

“Can we take a break?” As he lived in his own apartment, he didn't have a curfew, and your company didn't seem as annoying anymore. You even looked cute when you weren't frowning constantly.

“U-Uhm...sure.” He noticed the slight tremble in your voice but decided not to acknowledge it. You were probably too tired. “We can have a cup of tea if you want.” Your eyes drifted nervously to the clock. You still had plenty of time left.

Except you didn't. As soon as the water started boiling, the sound of keys clanking against each other sent you into defensive mode. Hurriedly, you grabbed Haechan’s hand and dragged him upstairs.

“What’s going on?” You tightened your grip around his wrist, urging him to lower his voice. “Y/n?”

“Y/n?” At the same time, a male voice called from downstairs. You pushed Haechan inside your room, placing your index over your lips pleadingly.

Something was wrong, and though Haechan didn't know what it was, he remained silent inside your room like you'd asked him to. Whispers hushed by the closed door could be heard from his position.

“Where’s my dinner? I thought I'd asked you to have it ready by the time I returned.”

“You came home earlier, so I-”

“You’re just a useless bitch, aren't you?” Haechan muffled a gasp, pressing his ear against the door to hear the conversation more clearly. “You should've left with your mom...No. You should've died instead. We could've started another family without the annoying parasite you are.”

“I’m s-sorry...” You apologized between sobs. The loud sound of glass breaking making you audibly yelp. “Please, I'm sorry.”

Haechan wanted to burst out of your room, afraid the man he assumed was your father was hurting you, but then again, he would probably cause you more trouble. There was surely a reason why you hadn't reported him to authorities.

“Get out of my sight, or the next glass will smash against your empty head.” Quick steps made their way upstairs, getting louder as you approached your room.

“What the hell, y/n?” He grabbed you by the shoulders, trying to scan you in the look for possible injuries. But the dim moonlight wasn't of much help.

“I’m sorry, Haechan. I thought he wouldn't be home until later...”

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” If only he knew. “We need to report him. Come on. I’ll take you to the police station.” He tried to drag you to the window. The jump wasn't too high. It would be easy to escape that way.

“Please, stop.” You grabbed his hands, squeezing them tightly to slow down his pace. “I can't.”

“He’s abusive, y/n! You don't deserve this shit.”

“Says the man who despised me a couple of hours ago.” As if he'd received a punch straight into the face, he stumbled back. “He provides me with a roof, and until I get a job of my own, I can't do shit, you get that?” Tears pricked your eyes as you tried keeping the volume down. The last thing you needed was him bursting into your room to find out there was a boy inside.

“That’s bullshit. I'm taking you to the station.” He pulled your arm harshly, making you squeal. You yanked your arm off, rubbing the area with your lower lip tucked under your front teeth. Under the sleeve of your sweater, a big bruise peeked. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Just leave, please. If he finds out you're here I'll get into trouble.”

As he walked back home, knees bruised from jumping out of the window, he weighed his options. Leaving you there would mean risking your well-being, but accusing your father would go against your desires and cause you trouble. Why did Mr. Kim have to pair him up with you?

(...)

The next day was one of your bad days. You were wearing a face mask despite you weren't sick. Almost as if you were trying to conceal something.

Haechan approached you during the break. To any outsider, it would seem as if you were only talking about the project, but the reality was much deeper.

“Take off your mask.” He commanded almost angrily.

“No.” It was embarrassing enough that he'd seen that little scene at your house the day before.

“Look, I'm sorry for acting like a dick yesterday. But can you blame me? I'm worried sick.” Though he’d never admit it, Donghyuck was a very sensitive person. “Please, let me see.”

“Fine.” You pulled it off, revealing a bleeding lip and bruised cheek. “What are you going to do now?”

“Let’s go to my house. I’ll take care of your wounds.” This time, instead of gripping your wrist, he linked your hands gently. “If you don’t let me do anything for you, I’ll go crazy.”

“We still have classes left.”

“No one will notice our absence. Let's go.”

Haechan wasn't half as though as he wanted everyone to believe. Every time he'd press the alcohol-soaked cotton to your lip and you flinched, he rushed to apologize, rubbing his palms over your arms to distract you from the pain.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked while applying ointment to your injuries.

“Sure.”

“Why does he hit you?” The question surely sounded better in his head. Nonetheless, you answered.

“My mom died in a car accident a year ago. I was with her, but I survived. The man you heard is my stepfather. We had a good relationship before mom died, but lately, he seems to think I was the one who killed her.”

“I’m so sorry for having treated you the way I did. You didn't deserve it.” He truly regretted it. You could tell by the way his eyes started to water. “I know you don't want to report him but...”

“Please, Haechan, it's already bad enough that you know it. I don't want anyone else to find out. I don't want people to see me as an abused and homeless girl.”

“Can you let me finish?” He placed his hands over your thighs reassuringly, almost too sweetly. “You can stay here with me. We’ll tell people we’re together, so no one suspects anything.”

“You don't have to. I just have to endure it for a couple more months and-”

“What if he kills you?” The thought of it alone was enough to make him want to puke. “Just accept, and it'll be as if we were roommates. You have a part-time job, don't you? We can split the rent.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’ll be a burden if you stay at that house. I’ll keep getting anxious knowing you're endangered.”

After hours of bickering, you finally accepted. While your stepfather wasn't home, you packed your essentials, waving goodbye to the house that held your whole childhood.

Given the fact that the spare room in his apartment was used as a gym, you had to sleep in the living room for a couple of nights. Late at night, whenever Haechan got up for a glass of water, he'd see you sleeping on the couch. So peaceful. Slowly, your wounds started healing, as well as your relationship with Donghyuck. Your stepfather never bothered to look for you, but nightmares of him storming into the apartment became a regular occasion. You didn't have enough money to pay for a doctor, so you started a diary.

“What are you doing?” Haechan found you writing on it one night, sitting in your brand new mattress. “A secret diary? Are you cheating on me?” He regularly joked about your fake relationship, teasing you with occasional hugs.

“It’s nothing.” But your tone made him uneasy. He snatched the notebook from your hands, quickly scanning through the paragraphs before you took it back.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“You worry too much about me.” You hid the diary under your pillows. “I’m alright.”

“Scoot to the side.” He tucked himself under your covers, pulling you into his warm embrace. “I’m gonna start registering your stuff to make sure you're not keeping anything to yourself.”

“It’s okay, Haechan. You don't have to do this for me. We're just friends.” He sighed, massaging your scalp with his fingers.

“Are you that dumb?” Looking down at your face, he noticed the small scars scattered around as he silently promised not to let anyone harm you again. “I know I was an idiot at first. But haven't I showed you just how much I like you? I thought I was obvious.”

“Are you sure it's not just pitty?”

“Goodness gracious, just keep quiet.” He squeezed you tighter. Not too tight though, he still feared hurting you like months before. “Now sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

“But I want to talk now. Does this mean we like a...couple?” He hummed, supporting his chin over the top of your head. “So we can hug outside of school now?”

“That’s what we're doing now.”

“And kissing?” He hummed again. “Whenever I want?”

“Sure.” He didn't expect the small peck that you left on his neck, proceeding to bury your face in that same place.