ORDER UP!

it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to let yourself into your boyfriend’s dorm unannounced despite the other eight that lived there. 

you were often greeted with hugs from maki or euijoo. maybe a bite stolen from whatever taki happened to be cooking.

this time, however, you had to keep yourself from laughing at the almost fearful expressions that swept across the room. even jo, who'd been halfway through reaching into a bag of chips, froze with his hand suspended in the air. harua's eyes darted between you and nicholas like he was silently trying to piece together what had happened before you arrived.

nicholas blinked up at you from the couch, eyes widening as every head slowly turned between the two of you. 

you never called him by his full name.

not unless he was in trouble.

“baby…” nicholas said carefully as he stood and crossed the room to where you waited in the entryway. “hey… what’s up?”

his voice was laced with concern, so subtle you doubt anyone else noticed it. you could almost see the million thoughts ping-ponging around his head, and it took you everything to not break character. he searched your face for any clue, his smile already fading into something more cautious the closer he got.

instead, you remained standing firm with your arms crossed.

“we’ll… leave you two alone,” euijoo mumbled, already ushering the others away. a chorus of muffled ‘ooh’s and poorly hidden snickers followed.

“nicho’s cooked.”

“what did you do?”

“i didn’t do anything!” nicholas called after them, sounding genuinely offended, albeit a little unsure. “that's what they all say,” someone muttered from the hallway, earning another round of laughter before the sound of retreating footsteps echoed farther into the dorm.

the living room emptied until it was just the two of you.

“wang yixiang,” you repeated.

he stopped only a step away. carefully, he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a worried wrinkle forming between his brows. “…yes?”

finally, the cheeky smile you’d been holding back broke across your face as you tiptoed up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “have i ever told you how much i love you?”

“wha—“ nicholas blinked, his eyes knitting together in confusion. “baby what?”

“i said i love you.”

“i—” you could practically hear the cogs turning in his head, a small laughter bubbling out of him. “i love you too?”

nicholas turned to the empty hall where everyone had disappeared, then back to you as if waiting for someone to explain the joke to him. “that’s all.” “thats all?” his expression morphed into one of disbelief, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “you little—“

you squealed as nicho darted forward, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back against him before mercilessly tickling your sides.

“you scared me!” he exclaimed between laughs. “i was trying to figure out what i'd forgotten! i thought i missed an anniversary or something!”

your laughter echoed through the dorm as you squirmed in his hold, trying—and failing—to pry his hands away. every attempt only seemed to encourage him more, his laughter growing louder as you helplessly twisted out of reach.

“nicho! i can’t breathe!” your words dissolved into helpless laughter, “im sorry!”

“oh, it’s nicho again now?”

all you could do was bury your face in his shoulder, giggling in defeat. he kissed you again before finally relenting, leaving you breathless. you looked up just in time to catch the fond smile spreading across his face. the kind that always seemed reserved just for you. he let out one last breathy laugh before gently smoothing out your messed up hair.

“don’t do that again,” he teased, poking your side one last time and earning another squeak from you.

“okay,” your cheeks ached from smiling. “i promise.”

“yeah?” he cupped your cheek before leaning in again, your lips meeting. slower this time, softer.

“mhm,” you murmured against his lips, the last of your giggles fading into the kiss. “promise.”

somewhere down the hallway, maki called out, “is it safe to come out now?”

“no,” nicholas answered without missing a beat.

“give us five more minutes,” you added

you heard an ‘ew’ echo from the hall.

nicholas only laughed before pulling you back down beside him on the couch. one look at the grin on his face told you that, to his members' dismay, he still hadn't gotten enough of you.

nichole.

it had always been her. 

it would’ve been easier if she was cruel. if she’d been bitter.

if she'd left you alone on your first day, if she'd walked past your lonely table without a second glance, if she'd laughed alongside everyone else when they whispered names that were never yours to begin with.

instead, she smiled.

and with that simple act of kindness, she handed you something you would spend years trying not to reach for.

friendship came as easily as breathing after that. 

somehow, she slipped into every corner of your life without either of you noticing. mornings became texts asking if you were awake. afternoons dissolved into shared headphones in the library, unfinished homework forgotten between laughter.

she knew exactly what songs you’d queue in the car. you knew to never buy her gold jewelry since silver suited her far better. somewhere along the way, mine faded into ours. and you suddenly couldn’t imagine a version of your future without her in it.

you told her about your plans, your dreams. about how perfect hung above your head like an aching reminder.

you told her everything—well, nearly everything.

everything except the way you’d search for her in hallways. the way her name echoed in your head like the ringing of church bells.

everything except the way you lay awake at night—imagining her next to you one minute, trying to pray the feeling away the next. or the way your parents warned you against her when she left the house. how they reminded you of your future, called her a bad influence.

you knew it was wrong.

you’d learned the rules long before you knew what it meant to ache for someone like this.

but hunger, unfortunately, never cared about the rules.

so you memorized her like she’d be the last thing you’d see. like you knew she’d damned you.

you survived on scraps, lingering touches. the small intimacies friendship would allow.

you memorized the chipped nail polish on her fingers. the light pink wash of her hair or the accent that snuck its way into her words. how her smile reduced her eyes to crescent moons when it reached them.

it was especially obvious right now. nichole cackling at a friend’s joke, red solo cup in hand. 

an overpacked house party definitely wasn’t your kind of thing, but nicho had dragged you with her. and like always, you followed.

the party was stuffy, a sea of sweaty people you didn't know and the music was obnoxiously loud. yet her laugh seemed to be the only thing you could hear.

it was the kind of infectious laugh that spread to anyone that heard it. it was loud and full and nichole always seemed to laugh with her whole body.

and somehow, years had passed.

high school had turned into college. you went on dates and tried to make them mean something. you thought that time would dull whatever this was between you.

but it didn’t. and she still sounded the same.

and you still turned your head when she laughed.

“yn!” nichole shouted over the crowd, making her way to you. she runs a hand down your arm as she asks, “you okay? sorry i left you.”

you try to ignore the goosebumps that rise where her touch trailed. “been better,” you reply lightly.

nicho laughs, bringing her voice down as she pulls you in closer. “let’s get out of here,” her mouth is right next to your ear, her breath brushing the nape of your neck. you’re hyperaware of her. of her closeness. 

she moves around you so naturally, as if you two were one whole. her body orbiting around yours like she was made to be near you.

you try to ignore it and listen as she continues, “maki just threw up and i’m not in the mood to listen to her babble on any longer.”

with a giggle and a muttered thank god, you grab her hand and find your way to the door. you’re greeted by cool air when you slip out—which is shortly replaced by the warmth of nicho’s car.

the drive back is quiet, not a noise but the hum of her old exhaust. it feels like a breath of fresh air from the party, despite the aged leather that sticks to your legs or the aircon that doesn’t quite work. it’s familiar—comforting.

the car comes to a stop in front of your house, streetlights leaking into the car and painting her face a light orange.

beautiful is the first word that comes to mind.

unintentional, almost unwelcome. like how a softly uttered “bless you” follows after a sneeze.

you push the thought down.

“thank you,” you break the silence, eyes still tracing her profile. “for bringing me home.”

“always.” she reaches her hand over the center console to hold yours, rings on her fingers clinking together. 

the metal is cold in contrast to her warm skin. she continues, “thank you too, for coming with me… i know these aren’t really your thing”

nicho looks up at you so soft it makes you melt, matching her words. you wonder if this is how temptation starts—sweet and harmless until it turns all consuming.

she looks at you like she always has. as if there’s nothing dangerous about this. like nothing was sinful with the way your hands fit together or the silence stretching between you.

nothing dangerous about wanting to stay exactly where you are.

and for one blasphemous moment, you forget any of this was wrong.

“if things were different,” you start without thinking. “if one of us were a man… i think i’d marry you.”

the words came out by accident. a confession of a loose tongue and a softened heart—one that’d been swallowed down for so long you forgot it could escape.

nichole’s hand stills above yours and when you meet her gaze the emotion in it is unreadable. “yeah?” she asks.

you should leave.

you should get out of her car and pretend this never happened. brush it off.

instead, you whisper. “yeah.”

“well… i’d definitely want to be the man, then.”

her answer takes you by surprise. you blink up at her, prompting her to go on.

a soft smile plays at nichole’s lips as she looks down to where your hands meet. she pauses for a moment like she's turning the words over in her head. “i wouldn’t want you to be different,” her voice is quiet when it comes out. “i don’t think there’s a single thing i’d change about you.”

“nicho—“

“what? it’s true.” she interrupts, “i love you. just as you are.”

love.

it’s a word you’ve spent years running from. and now that it's laying here between you two, delivered with such a sweet and terrifying certainty, you know exactly why you’ve been running.

your seatbelt suddenly seems too tight, the car shrinking in on you until breathing feels impossible.

“don’t say that,” you beg through breaths that come in too short. too fast. “please.”

“yn.” nicho calls out, like she’s trying to pull you out of the spiral she’d seen you fall into countless times before.

the spiral you’d fallen into when you’d first failed a subject.

when your mom had yelled at you.

or when you’d kissed a boy for the first time and spent the entire night cradled in her arms, disgusted with yourself.

“it’s wrong, nichole.” her name comes out with a bite, “you know that.”

your words taste bitter in your mouth. you don’t know who you’re pleading to, or who you’re trying to convince.

nichole chews on her lip, knuckles white where they grip the steering wheel—so hard as if to keep herself from reaching out for you again.

the words hang between you two for a moment before she whispers, voice breaking on the exhale, “it doesn’t have to be.”

her eyes are pinned to her lap, like she can’t bring herself to look at you. 

and you’re almost grateful.

grateful that you don’t have to look into her eyes.

because if you did, you were afraid you’d find yourself there. 

“i can’t do this nicho.” you say weakly, the backs of your eyes burning. “i’m.. i’m sorry. i can’t.”

i can’t let myself.

nichole opens her mouth, closes it again. she swallows and whatever she was going to say dies somewhere behind her teeth.

instead, all she says is, “goodnight, yn.”

you nod, let your hand find the door handle.

but before you can push it open, nicho’s hand reaches out to gently cup your face.

she turns you toward her with such unbearable care that, despite yourself, you lean into it before you can give your body permission.

you’re frozen in place as she plants a kiss on your cheek. soft and fleeting, nothing more than the brush of her lips against your skin.

heat spreads under the contact. a burning, shameful heat. it takes all of your strength to wrench your gaze from hers. to not pull her back in and succumb to yourself. 

it takes all of your strength to reach for the door handle and push yourself out into the cold night. the walk to your front door is just a few steps, but it feels like miles.

and as much as you want to, you don’t look back. you put the key into your door, twisting it open before you shut it behind you and fall to the floor.

bringing a trembling hand to your mouth, you choke out a sob. your fingers come away wet with tears you didn’t realize fell.

millions of thoughts race through your head, so full you feel its about to explode. your heart pounds loud in your ears, deafeningly so. 

each beat sounds like her.

nichole. nichole. nichole.

through the echoes of her name you hear her drive away. the sound of her engine fades until there’s nothing left but silence.

some fruits are forbidden because they are poisonous.

others because, once you’ve tasted them, nothing else will ever be sweet again.

you touched the fruit only once.

and you fear you’ll spend the rest of your life hungry.

a shuffle of blankets filters through the speakers, shattering the version of jo your mind had slipped back into imagining—how he’d look when you woke up next to him on slow mornings or when you’d murmur him confessions in the dead of night. 

it reminds you why you’d called in the first place. ”sorry, did i wake you?”

”no, it’s fine.” he reassures you, though you both know you did. “is everything alright?”

you pause for a moment, toying with the tangled sheets in your hand. “i can’t sleep.”

a hum on the other line prompts you to go on. 

truth be told, you’re not sure why you called jo. you’re not sure why—when you’d woken up with tears staining your face from a nightmare where you couldn’t speak, where the world ignored you—you knew he would be the one person who’d understand.

you sniffle, “i’m sorry. i… i don’t know why i called.”

”it’s okay.”

everything was okay with jo. it was okay when you were together. it was okay when you broke up because life drove you two on paths that no longer intersected. it was okay when you said you’d moved on but you still thought of jo when love songs played.

so it must have been okay when you called your ex in the middle of the night, despite yourself, wanting nothing more than him lying next to you.

jo clears his throat, pulling you from the thoughts that stuffed your head, “did you have a nightmare?”

of course he knew.

in some other world, you would’ve been shaking him awake instead of calling him. he’d hold you, run his hand through your hair and tell you nice things. eons ago that world was real.

it was yours.

but now, all you can do is stare at his name on your phone and say, “yeah.”

”do you wanna talk about it?”

yes, you think. please.

yet you know if you start, you won’t be able to stop. the tears will keep coming, and you’ll find yourself tearing your heart out and handing it to jo, like you had so many times before.

only this time, you don’t know if you’d get it back.

you’re not sure you ever did.

”no,” is all you answer.

“okay.”

silence lingers between you, nothing but the hum of your aircon and jo’s fan blowing wind into his microphone. 

you hug your pillow a little tighter, “tell me something nice, jo.”

he pauses for a moment and exhales into the phone, thoughtful. 

“do you remember miso?”

the words make you sit up a little straighter. “the little stray cat outside your apartment?”

“mhm,” he hums. “she had kittens.”

“…she did?”

“five.”

you let out the smallest laugh. “that’s a lot.”

“yeah. i think she was hiding them for a while.” you can hear him smile. “the old lady downstairs found them behind the storage shed.”

“are they okay?”

“they’re loud.” he chuckles. “so… probably.”

another laugh escapes you before you can stop it. 

the conversation is so normal, so everyday. it’s painfully easy—the way he tells you about the kittens or his grumpy neighbors, the little restaurant he tried the other day. 

for a short while, it feels like nothing changed.

”jo,” you start without thinking.

”mhm?”

”i miss you.”

it was an mistake—to speak the very thought that’d lingered on your tongue since the line clicked.

you’re met with a pause that lasts just a little too long, you glance back over at your phone to make sure he didn’t hang up.

”…it’s okay.” his grainy voice mutters.

your chest tightens. 

“please stop saying that.”

“im sorry.” jo whispers, it squeezes your heart even more. you hear him let out a shaky breath. 

“…i miss you too.”

the words hang between you, blowing with the wind.

”i think…” he continues. “more than anything i miss taking care of you.”

your head falls back against your bedframe, blurry gaze met with the ceiling.

“i wish i was lying there next to you instead of talking to you through my phone.” he laughs softly, though there’s no humor in it. “i wish i could hold you—tell you you’re safe until you fell asleep.”

you blink, having to fight your eyes from welling up all over again. you have to keep yourself from asking why don’t you? because you both already know the answer.

everything was okay with jo. it was so much more than okay. maybe that’s what made it so hard to leave. 

sometimes you wished your relationship had ended with yelling and slammed doors.

sometimes you wished it had been a stupid misunderstanding neither of you bothered to fix.

you wished you could talk bad about him to your friends and feel no remorse because he was a “piece of shit” anyway.

sometimes you wished it had been anything else other than the bittersweet smiles you exchanged, loving each other enough to let go. you wished he didn’t understand you more than anyone else or never listened when the world spoke over you.

and right now, you almost wished you’d never called him at all.

“yn?”

you hadn’t realized how long you’d gone quiet.

“still here.” as if you weren’t sure whether that was a good thing. 

you squeeze your eyes shut, regret flooding your senses. “jo i’m… i’m really sorry. it was stupid of me to call. but thank you… for picking up anyway.”

you expect him to tell you it’s okay like he always did. tell you to go to bed. you’re ready to lay in silence and hope you forget everything in the morning, even when you know you wouldn’t.

instead, “please don’t hang up.”

the words are barely above a whisper, you think you imagined them.

“don’t be sorry.” jo’s voice is tender, nearly a plea. you can’t help but notice the tears that too stain his tone. “stay.”

you lay back onto your bed, phone next to your ear as you lay your head on your pillow. you hear him do the same.

“okay.”

just for tonight, you tell yourself as jo murmurs a thanks. you let the sound of his breathing fill the room, muffled by his microphone.

your eyelids flutter shut and you allow sleep to start taking you away.

despite the drowsiness washing over you, you know this changes nothing. 

you know that you’ll wake up tomorrow and will have to tend to the wounds you reopened tonight. jo still isn’t yours to call, he hasn’t been for a while.

but just for tonight, in this little moment shared with him and the stars that blink down at you, you rest.

jo whispers something on the other line that you don’t hear. you don’t ask him to repeat it. he doesn’t call out your name when you don’t respond because he knows you need sleep more than you need saving.

you rest and you know that everything’s gonna be okay. because, with jo, it always is.

“what?” he replies louder than you expected, making you jump a little. his eyes widen in surprise as a disbelieving giggle escapes him. “seriously?”

“yeah!” 

“you’re kidding,” laughs intertwine with his words. he turns completely on his side, laptop forgotten as he props his head on his hand.

“i’m not!” you rebut, a few giggles escaping you. “i was just swiping and then his profile came up.”

just when you think your acting is nearing award-worthy, yudai's expression falters into slight confusion.

before he can think too much about it, you quickly continue. "it's so funny. his bio says, 'single and ready to—'"

"wait."

his eyes narrow slightly as he looks between you and your phone.

"why are you on…" before you can stop him, his hand quickly snatches your phone as you squeal.

his face falls the moment he sees the screen—the camera open and recording.

a fed-up, almost annoyed smirk slowly plays at his lips as his eyes meet yours. laughter spills out of you, no longer able to hold it in.

"...are you serious?"

𐔌   .  ˚ MURATA FUMA ֹ  ₊ ꒱

being sure to turn the flash off, you hit record on your phone, angling it towards your boyfriend sitting a few feet away from you.

"love, guess what."

"mhm?" your words have him looking up from his book, closing it slightly between his fingers.

you hold in your laugh when you say, "i just saw jo on tinder."

his head pulls back slightly in surprise as he shuts his book. his eyebrows furrow, a knowing smile slowly playing at his lips.

"jo?"

"yeah."

he hums, looking at you for a moment longer than expected.

"...you have tinder?"

𐔌   .  ˚ WANG YIXIANG ֹ  ₊ ꒱

with your camera rolling and pointed at your boyfriend next to you on the couch, you bark out as convincing of a laugh as you can.

nicholas’ head turns away from the tv look at you, gaze flicking down to your phone, “what’s funny?”

“i just saw maki on tinder.”

“what?” his attention is completely caught, nicholas picking up the remote to pause what he was watching. “seriously?”

“yeah!” you chuckle, more so at nicholas’ lack of realization rather than maki’s nonexistent tinder account. shaking your head, you look back down to your phone. “oh my gosh, i can’t believe he’s on here.”

"me neither." he shifts closer to you, his words laced with disbelief that already sounds like he's planning to tease maki later. "let me see."

nicholas holds his hand out expectantly, waiting for your phone. only to stop.

his brows pinch together as his eyes dart between you and the screen. "wait."

he looks at you again.

"what the hell?" a confused laugh escapes him. "why are you on there?"

𐔌   .  ˚ BYUN EUIJOO ֹ  ₊ ꒱

pressing record on your phone, you let out a laugh. "oh my gosh."

"what's up?" euijoo looks up from his phone, turning his head to look at you from where he lays on your stomach.

"i just found fuma on hinge."

"what?" your boyfriend's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, propping himself up on his elbow to sit up straight. "no you did not."

his voice is full of disbelief, a laugh slipping out with his words.

“yes i did, his bio’s so corny!” you argue, pretending to look down at your phone and read out fuma’s so-called profile.

euijoo’s eating up your every word, completely invested as he sets his phone down.

“wait show me! i can’t believe he’s on a dating a—“ his hand reaches out for your phone, ready to snatch it from your hands. halfway through the sentence, he pauses, hand freezing midair. 

his eyes flick between you and the screen before a confused realization settles across his face. the laughter from just moments ago disappears from his voice. “baby.”

“mhm?”

his eyebrows furrow, head falling into a perplexed tilt. “why do you have hinge?”

𐔌   .  ˚ NAKAKITA YUMA ֹ  ₊ ꒱

"no way."

yuma's eyes look up from his switch. he tilts his head, silently prompting you to go on.

as if to double-check what you just saw, you glance back down at your phone—which was actually recording your boyfriend's reaction to your next words.

"i just found harua on hinge."

"what?" he lowers his arms, laughing. an amused smile that spells trouble spreads across his face. "really?"

you nod.

“seriously?” scheming giggles find their way through his words, “i need to call him, that’s hilarious!”

you can almost see the endless ways he plans to tease harua about this running through his head, grin spreading wider as he scans the room for his phone. that is, until his brows furrow, the thought finally clicking in his brain. his gaze snaps back to yours.

"...wait. what?” the amusement on his face is quickly wiped off.

"harua," you repeat, holding in your laugh. "he's on hinge."

"no, yeah, i heard that." yuma puts his switch down, crawling over to you on the couch before reaching out for your phone. "...why are you on hinge?"

𐔌   .  ˚ ASAKURA JO ֹ  ₊ ꒱

“baby.” 

unaware of your phone recording him, jo's head lifts from his sketchbook, his eyes meeting yours. “mhm?”

you have to bite your cheek to keep a sly grin from breaking out on your face as you speak. “you’re never gonna believe who i just saw on tinder.”

at your words, jo blinks. the smile on his face falters, a confused wrinkle settling between his brows.  “…who?”

“yuma!”

he just pauses.

“oh.”

your heart drops a little, “what’s wrong? isn’t it funny?”

the question is barely a whisper, laced with concern, “why are you on tinder?” 

𐔌   .  ˚ SHIGETA HARUA  ֹ  ₊ ꒱

“no way.”

“hm?” harua looks up, mid-bite through his food.

“baby, i just found taki on hinge.”

your boyfriend’s snack is long forgotten when the words leave your mouth, unaware of your phone recording his reaction.

“what?” his eyes widen as he leans forward, setting his food down. “taki?!”

you laugh at him, his mouth slightly agape. 

“yeah, he’s on hinge,” you reiterate. “the dating app.”

harua sits up straighter, moving his head to catch a glimpse of your phone screen.

"wait, show me. i wanna see!"

you angle the screen away, keeping the act up a little longer as you feign scrolling through his profile.

"gosh, these pictures are hilarious.”

his eyebrows furrow as he laughs, his curiosity only growing. "show meee!"

you continue pretending to scroll, fighting back your laughter as harua leans closer in an attempt to see the screen.

"wait," he stills.

harua's eyes flick between you and your phone.

"what?" his expression shifts into confusion as realization slowly settles in. "baby, why are you on a dating app?"

𐔌   .  ˚ TAKAYAMA RIKI ֹ  ₊ ꒱

“holy shit,” you say, camera pointed up at your boyfriend as subtly as possible.

he sat across from you at the table, finishing the last of his meal, attention caught by your words.

“what?” his eyes are twinged with the slightest worry when they meet yours. “what’s wrong?”

“i just saw jo on tinder.”

his chopsticks clatter, dropping into his rice bowl as his eyebrows shoot up. “jo?”

“yeah.”

laughter bursts out of him, loud enough for the other customers around you to turn their heads. 

“no way, oh my gosh.” a huge grin is plastered on his face, seemingly tickled by the concept of jo having a dating profile. “really?”

you crack up at his reaction, nodding through laughs at his cluelessness.

“can i see?” he holds his hand out, waiting for your phone. “how’d you find him?”

“i was just swiping and he came up.”

“no way…” he laughs again, shaking his head as he reaches for your phone like he won’t believe it until he sees it.

his hand freezes halfway.

“wait what?” his eyes snap up to yours.

"what?" you ask innocently.

"...what are you swiping for??"

𐔌   .  ˚ MAKI ֹ  ₊ ꒱

watching the countdown on your phone hit zero, you point your camera at maki, who sits across from you at the dining table.

“oh my gosh, babe. you’re never gonna believe this.”

“what?” he looks up from his phone, thumbs still typing away on the keyboard. “what’s up?”

putting on your most genuine voice, you tell him, “i just found nicholas on tinder.”

"what?" his fingers halt over the screen, eyebrows furrowing as the corners of his mouth tick up. “are you deadass?"

you nod, a giggle escaping you.

maki blinks down at your phone before letting out an amused laugh, already picturing nicholas with a dating profile. "what the fuck that’s hilar—" he cuts himself off mid-sentence. "...wait."

"yeah?"

maki slowly sets his phone down on the table. "how'd you..." his eyes lift to yours before dropping back to your phone.

before you can stop him, he reaches across the table and you shriek as he snatches it from your hands with a bewildered smile.

"why are you on tinder?"

you can't answer. the moment he finally puts the pieces together, you can only burst into laughter.

maki looks down at your screen to see the camera open, recording his every reaction, before rolling his eyes with a groan.

"oh, come onnn."

you thought there could not possibly be a sound you loved more. not until you heard him say yours. gentle, soft in a way no one else said it. 

you wanted to hear it all the time. 

you wanted to hear it mumbled through late-night phone calls. called from across crowded streets. whispered in your ear or even shouted in your face.

you didn’t want anyone else to say it if it did not sound like this.

and for a while, you had all that and more. 

loving him was never loud. it wasn’t dramatic, no grand promises or big beginnings. it was him sitting next to you in a classroom full of unfamiliar faces. it was walking you home, taking the long way just to have more time together. talks of school shifting into conversations that felt like peering into each other’s minds. 

juhoon was the comfort of knowing someone was there. he was silence that never had to be filled. an ear that could listen to thoughts that no one else would ever hear, remembering things about you that you didn’t even know yourself.

there was no start to you and juhoon neither was there an end. there was just always.

it was a promise that didn’t have to be said, but was known. like neither of you could imagine life without the other.

“jju,” you murmured, laying flat on the grass with him right next to you.

“yeah?”

the stars above you twinkled, endless. it burned gold at the edges from the sun which began to give way to the moon. the cold air crisp against your skin, the hum of cicadas somewhere in the distance.

you turned your head just enough to look at him. “do you think we’ll stay like this forever?”

juhoon laughed softly through his nose. the two of you were still in your uniforms, backpacks thrown hastily to the side. “like what?”

“this.” you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “together.”

he went quiet for a moment. not uncomfortable quiet, never that. the kind where he was actually thinking about your words instead of brushing past them.

then, he reached over and hooked his pinky around yours in the grass. absentminded. natural. like it belonged there.

“you worry too much,” he said quietly.

you smiled. “that’s not an answer.”

juhoon turned his head toward you then, dark eyes warm in the fading light. there was something unbearably gentle about the way he looked at you, like he had already memorized every version of your face.

“okay,” he murmured, “then yeah. forever.”

your chest ached with how easy it was to believe him. escape the bustle of the world together, no one but the two of you.

back then, forever still felt small enough to hold in your hands.

time moved too fast back then, as it does now. and you already know it stops for no one.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

you almost didn’t come. you don’t know why you did.

you sat in your car with the ticket in your lap for nearly twenty minutes, staring at the venue entrance while thousands of people poured inside.

it all felt ridiculous, suddenly. to miss someone this long. to carry love like grief.

it started with recruitment, then practices that ran later than usual. dance lessons. vocal training. study sessions replaced with rehearsals he just “couldn’t miss.” his voice always exhausted and apologetic, so much so that you forgave him before he even finished speaking.

then came the missed calls. the unread messages. the growing spaces between seeing him.

you told yourself it was temporary. that this was his dream, and loving someone meant learning how to stand beside it instead of in front of it.

so you waited.

you waited through nights where he was too tired to speak. through lunches spent alone because he had trainee evaluations. through conversations that slowly became shorter, thinner, like paper folding in on itself.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he had whispered one night outside your gate, eyes heavy with fatigue. still, they gleamed with hope. with dreams so close it seemed he could reach out and touch them.

you remember smiling even though your chest hurt. “you don’t have to keep apologizing to me.”

the truth was, you would have waited forever if he’d asked. maybe that was the problem.

because even when always became sometimes, and sometimes became never, you stayed.

even after he debuted and his number changed too many times for you to count. when he became harder to reach, and you started learning more about his life online than from his own mouth.

you still waited.

you let your mind wander on sleepless nights, wondering how something that once felt permanent could slip through your fingers no matter how tightly you held on.

and when you finally force yourself out of the car and into the crowd, his name is everywhere.

“i can’t wait to see juhoon!”

“did you see? i think juhoon cut his hair.”

“juhoon looked so good at the airport today.”

juhoon. juhoon. juhoon.

a name that was once sacred to you now shared with thousands–millions. they say it like they’ve known it all their lives. like their voices had been made for it too.

but you ignore them and find your way to the front, pressed up against the barricade. countless people move around beside you, shoulders brushing yours. here, you’re but another girl in the crowd. another fan amongst millions.

the yells of the crowd pull you out of your thoughts as the arena lights dim suddenly.

music surges and before you can prepare yourself, before you can breathe properly, he appears.

kim juhoon, standing beneath blinding lights like he was born for them.

your stomach twists at the sight of him, your grip around the railing tightening like you might fall apart if you let go. he looks older now, sharp features set with focus yet a small smile plays along his lips as he sings along with his bandmates.

the whole show, you’re captivated. like you can’t believe he’s real. part of you aches for him to come closer, to see you, to just be near you. another part hopes you sink into the ground and disappear because seeing him like this somehow hurts even more than you expected.

he’s standing just a few feet away from you, yet the boy you once knew seems so far away now.

you feel the show coming to an end, the group around you sniffling through tears. the once intense background music shifts into a gentle guitar.

“COER!” breathless, juhoon shouts into the microphone, taking in the whole stadium. lights sweep across thousands upon thousands of faces as his words are thrown into an endless sea.

yet somehow, impossibly, his gaze falls on you as he says, “i love you.”

and for one awful second, he looks exactly the same. not juhoon of cortis, nor the juhoon you see plastered on billboards or glowing on tv. just juhoon.

your kim juhoon.

the boy who used to mumble your name into late-night phone calls. the one who knew you better than you knew yourself. the boy who looked at you like nothing else in the world mattered.

something in his expression shifts, so small no one else would notice. but you don’t miss how his smile softens at the edges, how his gaze lingers a second too long full of emotion you can’t quite decipher. happiness, recognition–regret, maybe. then he looks away.

the crowd erupts around you but you don’t hear any of it. to them, they're words of thanks. a video clip you’re sure to see all over your feed later.

to you, however, it’s a sorrowful confession. one that lingered on your tongues for too long, never quite slipping out. one that’s far too late now yet somehow eases your heart all the same.

to you, it sounds a little too close to goodbye. like finally letting go and accepting that the small world you two built is now too small for the both of you.

the sting behind your eyes catches you off guard, and suddenly you’re laughing through tears you hadn’t even realized were falling.

because, despite everything, he made it.

of course he did.

and there is no second chance after this. no accidental reunion at the park or the convenience store. no dates undercover or hidden romance, tucked between schedules and airport arrivals. 

there is only this. cheering him on and watching from afar. listening to his voice through your earbuds, seeing his face in magazine covers and big bright screens.

and that’ll be enough for you.

it has to be.

gymcrush!maki who noticed you on an ordinary tuesday afternoon.

not for any reason in particular, really.

you weren’t the loudest person there. you weren’t lifting the heaviest or trying to get anyone’s attention. 

but because you looked so completely focused in a way he’d never really seen in anyone but himself.

gymcrush!maki whose eyes landed on you sitting on the floor between sets, face flushed from your workout, and couldn’t quite seem to look away.

gymcrush!maki who started timing his workouts around yours without even realizing it.

maybe that meant showing up at six instead of five or deciding to target legs the same day you were. even when his legs were sore, staying an extra 20 minutes on the treadmill didn’t sound too bad because you were too.

gymcrush!maki who always seemed so confident but couldn’t work up the courage to talk to you until his friend nicholas caught him staring.

“bro,” nicholas took a sip of his water, catching his breath from the set they’d just finished. “just talk to her.”

his words pulled maki out of his thoughts, causing him to meet his eyes. “talk to who?”

nicholas’ face tightened into the most annoyed expression maki had ever seen. “you’re not subtle dude, i promise.”

gymcrush!maki who finally talked to you after weeks of trying to just catch your eye.

it was a little awkward and the compliment he repeated 20 times in his head didn’t come out as smoothly as he’d hoped. 

but none of that mattered to him when you looked at him and suddenly it was just you two. it didn’t matter when your eyes crinkled as you laughed at his joke and softened when you smiled up at him.

it most definitely didn’t matter when you gave him your number.

gymcrush!maki who started looking forward to seeing you more than the workout itself.

gymcrush!maki who learned your routine, your favorite machines, the songs you’d skip on your playlist but couldn’t be bothered to remove.

gymcrush!maki who committed every bit of you to memory. savoring every second of your presence, biting back a smile when he’d tease you.

gymcrush!maki who suddenly couldn’t remember when his workouts—his days went from him to you. who couldn’t remember how he ever preferred to work out alone.

gymcrush!maki who paused his workout mid-set when your notification lit up his phone, sitting on the bench for far too long staring at your text.

gymcrush!maki who clocked into the gym twice in one day when you invited him to work out with you even though he already did.

gymcrush!maki who would’ve worked out a third time if you asked.

it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

he’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

and as much as you wish you could bottle this moment up and keep it forever, you suppose a photo strip will suffice.

you take his hand, dragging him toward the photo booth tucked in the corner of the arcade. jo nearly stumbles after you with a startled laugh, ducking his head as you both squeeze inside.

there’s barely enough room for him. his long legs are awkwardly crammed up toward his waist, shoulders brushing against yours every time either of you move.

as you slip the bill into the machine and scroll through the photo frames, warmth radiates from jo beside you. his hands rest stiffly in his lap, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them.

you glance over.

“you nervous?”

jo’s ears turn pink almost immediately. “a little.”

you let out a short giggle, finally selecting a frame. a robotic voice begins to count down and you rest your head on jo’s shoulder, a soft smile playing at your lips.

3… 2… 1… click!

the camera flashes and jo chuckles at the photo. “i look so awkward,” a pink flush creeping up his cheeks.

“i think you look cute,” you argue as you grab his face, pressing a kiss onto his cheek as the camera snaps another photo. his face heats up underneath your touch as you let go.

he turns to look at you with parted lips, eyes wide. his breath hitches as his gaze drops to your lips, licking his own.

you feel your own cheeks warm at the eagerness in his eyes, like he’s trying not to look too hopeful. but you remember the way he looked at you earlier that day, the way his body mirrored yours without thinking, his gaze fixed on you like you were the most captivating thing in the room. like he’s liked you for far longer than he knows what to do with. 

he tucks your hair behind your ear, his knuckles brushing your cheek. “can i kiss you?“ barely above a whisper, he asks, ignoring the click of another photo.

his words are bold but you don’t miss how his tips of his ears have turned a bright pink, or the shaking of his leg as his foot bounces on the ground. it’s cute.

it almost makes you want him more. you nod, “please do.”

3… 2… 1…

the camera flashes just as he presses his lips to yours, slow yet certain, like this is all he’s ever wanted. like he’s imagined it hundreds of times before. maybe you have too.

he cups your face in his hand, angling his head so that your faces slot perfectly together. firm, yet almost shy. you taste the sweetness of your own lip gloss along with the delicate bitterness of the matcha you shared just minutes before.

your hands find his way into his hair, ruffling it up ever so slightly. jo lets out the quietest breath against your lips–surprised, almost–before kissing you once more, softer this time. lingering.

not rushed.

like he wants to remember every second of it.

the faint whirr of your photos being printed brings you back to reality. back to the noisy arcade outside the booth, to flashing lights and distant game machines and the rest of the world that suddenly feels unimportant compared to this.

when you pull away, jo’s breath is heavy. his hair is messy where your fingers ran through it, lips slightly swollen. his face beet red as he brings his hand to his lips, the ghost of yours still lingering.

you reach over to grab the photo strip as it slides out of the machine.

your eyes catch on the last photo. your eyes closed, fingers tangled in his hair, jo smiling into the kiss so softly it makes your chest ache. for a moment, you think maybe this is what happiness looks like.

a tiny moment captured on glossy film. small enough to fit between your fingers, yet meaningful enough to stay with you forever.

pulling you from your thoughts, still slightly breathless, jo glances at the strip before looking back at you.

a shuffle of blankets filters through the speakers, shattering the version of jo your mind had slipped back into imagining—how he’d look when you woke up next to him on slow mornings or when you’d murmur him confessions in the dead of night. 

it reminds you why you’d called in the first place. ”sorry, did i wake you?”

”no, it’s fine.” he reassures you, though you both know you did. “is everything alright?”

you pause for a moment, toying with the tangled sheets in your hand. “i can’t sleep.”

a hum on the other line prompts you to go on. 

truth be told, you’re not sure why you called jo. you’re not sure why—when you’d woken up with tears staining your face from a nightmare where you couldn’t speak, where the world ignored you—you knew he would be the one person who’d understand.

you sniffle, “i’m sorry. i… i don’t know why i called.”

”it’s okay.”

everything was okay with jo. it was okay when you were together. it was okay when you broke up because life drove you two on paths that no longer intersected. it was okay when you said you’d moved on but you still thought of jo when love songs played.

so it must have been okay when you called your ex in the middle of the night, despite yourself, wanting nothing more than him lying next to you.

jo clears his throat, pulling you from the thoughts that stuffed your head, “did you have a nightmare?”

of course he knew.

in some other world, you would’ve been shaking him awake instead of calling him. he’d hold you, run his hand through your hair and tell you nice things. eons ago that world was real.

it was yours.

but now, all you can do is stare at his name on your phone and say, “yeah.”

”do you wanna talk about it?”

yes, you think. please.

yet you know if you start, you won’t be able to stop. the tears will keep coming, and you’ll find yourself tearing your heart out and handing it to jo, like you had so many times before.

only this time, you don’t know if you’d get it back.

you’re not sure you ever did.

”no,” is all you answer.

“okay.”

silence lingers between you, nothing but the hum of your aircon and jo’s fan blowing wind into his microphone. 

you hug your pillow a little tighter, “tell me something nice, jo.”

he pauses for a moment and exhales into the phone, thoughtful. 

“do you remember miso?”

the words make you sit up a little straighter. “the little stray cat outside your apartment?”

“mhm,” he hums. “she had kittens.”

“…she did?”

“five.”

you let out the smallest laugh. “that’s a lot.”

“yeah. i think she was hiding them for a while.” you can hear him smile. “the old lady downstairs found them behind the storage shed.”

“are they okay?”

“they’re loud.” he chuckles. “so… probably.”

another laugh escapes you before you can stop it. 

the conversation is so normal, so everyday. it’s painfully easy—the way he tells you about the kittens or his grumpy neighbors, the little restaurant he tried the other day. 

for a short while, it feels like nothing changed.

”jo,” you start without thinking.

”mhm?”

”i miss you.”

it was an mistake—to speak the very thought that’d lingered on your tongue since the line clicked.

you’re met with a pause that lasts just a little too long, you glance back over at your phone to make sure he didn’t hang up.

”…it’s okay.” his grainy voice mutters.

your chest tightens. 

“please stop saying that.”

“im sorry.” jo whispers, it squeezes your heart even more. you hear him let out a shaky breath. 

“…i miss you too.”

the words hang between you, blowing with the wind.

”i think…” he continues. “more than anything i miss taking care of you.”

your head falls back against your bedframe, blurry gaze met with the ceiling.

“i wish i was lying there next to you instead of talking to you through my phone.” he laughs softly, though there’s no humor in it. “i wish i could hold you—tell you you’re safe until you fell asleep.”

you blink, having to fight your eyes from welling up all over again. you have to keep yourself from asking why don’t you? because you both already know the answer.

everything was okay with jo. it was so much more than okay. maybe that’s what made it so hard to leave. 

sometimes you wished your relationship had ended with yelling and slammed doors.

sometimes you wished it had been a stupid misunderstanding neither of you bothered to fix.

you wished you could talk bad about him to your friends and feel no remorse because he was a “piece of shit” anyway.

sometimes you wished it had been anything else other than the bittersweet smiles you exchanged, loving each other enough to let go. you wished he didn’t understand you more than anyone else or never listened when the world spoke over you.

and right now, you almost wished you’d never called him at all.

“yn?”

you hadn’t realized how long you’d gone quiet.

“still here.” as if you weren’t sure whether that was a good thing. 

you squeeze your eyes shut, regret flooding your senses. “jo i’m… i’m really sorry. it was stupid of me to call. but thank you… for picking up anyway.”

you expect him to tell you it’s okay like he always did. tell you to go to bed. you’re ready to lay in silence and hope you forget everything in the morning, even when you know you wouldn’t.

instead, “please don’t hang up.”

the words are barely above a whisper, you think you imagined them.

“don’t be sorry.” jo’s voice is tender, nearly a plea. you can’t help but notice the tears that too stain his tone. “stay.”

you lay back onto your bed, phone next to your ear as you lay your head on your pillow. you hear him do the same.

“okay.”

just for tonight, you tell yourself as jo murmurs a thanks. you let the sound of his breathing fill the room, muffled by his microphone.

your eyelids flutter shut and you allow sleep to start taking you away.

despite the drowsiness washing over you, you know this changes nothing. 

you know that you’ll wake up tomorrow and will have to tend to the wounds you reopened tonight. jo still isn’t yours to call, he hasn’t been for a while.

but just for tonight, in this little moment shared with him and the stars that blink down at you, you rest.

jo whispers something on the other line that you don’t hear. you don’t ask him to repeat it. he doesn’t call out your name when you don’t respond because he knows you need sleep more than you need saving.

you rest and you know that everything’s gonna be okay. because, with jo, it always is.

a shuffle of blankets filters through the speakers, shattering the version of jo your mind had slipped back into imagining—how he’d look when you woke up next to him on slow mornings or when you’d murmur him confessions in the dead of night. 

it reminds you why you’d called in the first place. ”sorry, did i wake you?”

”no, it’s fine.” he reassures you, though you both know you did. “is everything alright?”

you pause for a moment, toying with the tangled sheets in your hand. “i can’t sleep.”

a hum on the other line prompts you to go on. 

truth be told, you’re not sure why you called jo. you’re not sure why—when you’d woken up with tears staining your face from a nightmare where you couldn’t speak, where the world ignored you—you knew he would be the one person who’d understand.

you sniffle, “i’m sorry. i… i don’t know why i called.”

”it’s okay.”

everything was okay with jo. it was okay when you were together. it was okay when you broke up because life drove you two on paths that no longer intersected. it was okay when you said you’d moved on but you still thought of jo when love songs played.

so it must have been okay when you called your ex in the middle of the night, despite yourself, wanting nothing more than him lying next to you.

jo clears his throat, pulling you from the thoughts that stuffed your head, “did you have a nightmare?”

of course he knew.

in some other world, you would’ve been shaking him awake instead of calling him. he’d hold you, run his hand through your hair and tell you nice things. eons ago that world was real.

it was yours.

but now, all you can do is stare at his name on your phone and say, “yeah.”

”do you wanna talk about it?”

yes, you think. please.

yet you know if you start, you won’t be able to stop. the tears will keep coming, and you’ll find yourself tearing your heart out and handing it to jo, like you had so many times before.

only this time, you don’t know if you’d get it back.

you’re not sure you ever did.

”no,” is all you answer.

“okay.”

silence lingers between you, nothing but the hum of your aircon and jo’s fan blowing wind into his microphone. 

you hug your pillow a little tighter, “tell me something nice, jo.”

he pauses for a moment and exhales into the phone, thoughtful. 

“do you remember miso?”

the words make you sit up a little straighter. “the little stray cat outside your apartment?”

“mhm,” he hums. “she had kittens.”

“…she did?”

“five.”

you let out the smallest laugh. “that’s a lot.”

“yeah. i think she was hiding them for a while.” you can hear him smile. “the old lady downstairs found them behind the storage shed.”

“are they okay?”

“they’re loud.” he chuckles. “so… probably.”

another laugh escapes you before you can stop it. 

the conversation is so normal, so everyday. it’s painfully easy—the way he tells you about the kittens or his grumpy neighbors, the little restaurant he tried the other day. 

for a short while, it feels like nothing changed.

”jo,” you start without thinking.

”mhm?”

”i miss you.”

it was an mistake—to speak the very thought that’d lingered on your tongue since the line clicked.

you’re met with a pause that lasts just a little too long, you glance back over at your phone to make sure he didn’t hang up.

”…it’s okay.” his grainy voice mutters.

your chest tightens. 

“please stop saying that.”

“im sorry.” jo whispers, it squeezes your heart even more. you hear him let out a shaky breath. 

“…i miss you too.”

the words hang between you, blowing with the wind.

”i think…” he continues. “more than anything i miss taking care of you.”

your head falls back against your bedframe, blurry gaze met with the ceiling.

“i wish i was lying there next to you instead of talking to you through my phone.” he laughs softly, though there’s no humor in it. “i wish i could hold you—tell you you’re safe until you fell asleep.”

you blink, having to fight your eyes from welling up all over again. you have to keep yourself from asking why don’t you? because you both already know the answer.

everything was okay with jo. it was so much more than okay. maybe that’s what made it so hard to leave. 

sometimes you wished your relationship had ended with yelling and slammed doors.

sometimes you wished it had been a stupid misunderstanding neither of you bothered to fix.

you wished you could talk bad about him to your friends and feel no remorse because he was a “piece of shit” anyway.

sometimes you wished it had been anything else other than the bittersweet smiles you exchanged, loving each other enough to let go. you wished he didn’t understand you more than anyone else or never listened when the world spoke over you.

and right now, you almost wished you’d never called him at all.

“yn?”

you hadn’t realized how long you’d gone quiet.

“still here.” as if you weren’t sure whether that was a good thing. 

you squeeze your eyes shut, regret flooding your senses. “jo i’m… i’m really sorry. it was stupid of me to call. but thank you… for picking up anyway.”

you expect him to tell you it’s okay like he always did. tell you to go to bed. you’re ready to lay in silence and hope you forget everything in the morning, even when you know you wouldn’t.

instead, “please don’t hang up.”

the words are barely above a whisper, you think you imagined them.

“don’t be sorry.” jo’s voice is tender, nearly a plea. you can’t help but notice the tears that too stain his tone. “stay.”

you lay back onto your bed, phone next to your ear as you lay your head on your pillow. you hear him do the same.

“okay.”

just for tonight, you tell yourself as jo murmurs a thanks. you let the sound of his breathing fill the room, muffled by his microphone.

your eyelids flutter shut and you allow sleep to start taking you away.

despite the drowsiness washing over you, you know this changes nothing. 

you know that you’ll wake up tomorrow and will have to tend to the wounds you reopened tonight. jo still isn’t yours to call, he hasn’t been for a while.

but just for tonight, in this little moment shared with him and the stars that blink down at you, you rest.

jo whispers something on the other line that you don’t hear. you don’t ask him to repeat it. he doesn’t call out your name when you don’t respond because he knows you need sleep more than you need saving.

you rest and you know that everything’s gonna be okay. because, with jo, it always is.

it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to let yourself into your boyfriend’s dorm unannounced despite the other eight that lived there. 

you were often greeted with hugs from maki or euijoo. maybe a bite stolen from whatever taki happened to be cooking.

this time, however, you had to keep yourself from laughing at the almost fearful expressions that swept across the room. even jo, who'd been halfway through reaching into a bag of chips, froze with his hand suspended in the air. harua's eyes darted between you and nicholas like he was silently trying to piece together what had happened before you arrived.

nicholas blinked up at you from the couch, eyes widening as every head slowly turned between the two of you. 

you never called him by his full name.

not unless he was in trouble.

“baby…” nicholas said carefully as he stood and crossed the room to where you waited in the entryway. “hey… what’s up?”

his voice was laced with concern, so subtle you doubt anyone else noticed it. you could almost see the million thoughts ping-ponging around his head, and it took you everything to not break character. he searched your face for any clue, his smile already fading into something more cautious the closer he got.

instead, you remained standing firm with your arms crossed.

“we’ll… leave you two alone,” euijoo mumbled, already ushering the others away. a chorus of muffled ‘ooh’s and poorly hidden snickers followed.

“nicho’s cooked.”

“what did you do?”

“i didn’t do anything!” nicholas called after them, sounding genuinely offended, albeit a little unsure. “that's what they all say,” someone muttered from the hallway, earning another round of laughter before the sound of retreating footsteps echoed farther into the dorm.

the living room emptied until it was just the two of you.

“wang yixiang,” you repeated.

he stopped only a step away. carefully, he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a worried wrinkle forming between his brows. “…yes?”

finally, the cheeky smile you’d been holding back broke across your face as you tiptoed up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “have i ever told you how much i love you?”

“wha—“ nicholas blinked, his eyes knitting together in confusion. “baby what?”

“i said i love you.”

“i—” you could practically hear the cogs turning in his head, a small laughter bubbling out of him. “i love you too?”

nicholas turned to the empty hall where everyone had disappeared, then back to you as if waiting for someone to explain the joke to him. “that’s all.” “thats all?” his expression morphed into one of disbelief, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “you little—“

you squealed as nicho darted forward, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back against him before mercilessly tickling your sides.

“you scared me!” he exclaimed between laughs. “i was trying to figure out what i'd forgotten! i thought i missed an anniversary or something!”

your laughter echoed through the dorm as you squirmed in his hold, trying—and failing—to pry his hands away. every attempt only seemed to encourage him more, his laughter growing louder as you helplessly twisted out of reach.

“nicho! i can’t breathe!” your words dissolved into helpless laughter, “im sorry!”

“oh, it’s nicho again now?”

all you could do was bury your face in his shoulder, giggling in defeat. he kissed you again before finally relenting, leaving you breathless. you looked up just in time to catch the fond smile spreading across his face. the kind that always seemed reserved just for you. he let out one last breathy laugh before gently smoothing out your messed up hair.

“don’t do that again,” he teased, poking your side one last time and earning another squeak from you.

“okay,” your cheeks ached from smiling. “i promise.”

“yeah?” he cupped your cheek before leaning in again, your lips meeting. slower this time, softer.

“mhm,” you murmured against his lips, the last of your giggles fading into the kiss. “promise.”

somewhere down the hallway, maki called out, “is it safe to come out now?”

“no,” nicholas answered without missing a beat.

“give us five more minutes,” you added

you heard an ‘ew’ echo from the hall.

nicholas only laughed before pulling you back down beside him on the couch. one look at the grin on his face told you that, to his members' dismay, he still hadn't gotten enough of you.

“what?” he replies louder than you expected, making you jump a little. his eyes widen in surprise as a disbelieving giggle escapes him. “seriously?”

“yeah!” 

“you’re kidding,” laughs intertwine with his words. he turns completely on his side, laptop forgotten as he props his head on his hand.

“i’m not!” you rebut, a few giggles escaping you. “i was just swiping and then his profile came up.”

just when you think your acting is nearing award-worthy, yudai's expression falters into slight confusion.

before he can think too much about it, you quickly continue. "it's so funny. his bio says, 'single and ready to—'"

"wait."

his eyes narrow slightly as he looks between you and your phone.

"why are you on…" before you can stop him, his hand quickly snatches your phone as you squeal.

his face falls the moment he sees the screen—the camera open and recording.

a fed-up, almost annoyed smirk slowly plays at his lips as his eyes meet yours. laughter spills out of you, no longer able to hold it in.

"...are you serious?"

𐔌   .  ˚ MURATA FUMA ֹ  ₊ ꒱

being sure to turn the flash off, you hit record on your phone, angling it towards your boyfriend sitting a few feet away from you.

"love, guess what."

"mhm?" your words have him looking up from his book, closing it slightly between his fingers.

you hold in your laugh when you say, "i just saw jo on tinder."

his head pulls back slightly in surprise as he shuts his book. his eyebrows furrow, a knowing smile slowly playing at his lips.

"jo?"

"yeah."

he hums, looking at you for a moment longer than expected.

"...you have tinder?"

𐔌   .  ˚ WANG YIXIANG ֹ  ₊ ꒱

with your camera rolling and pointed at your boyfriend next to you on the couch, you bark out as convincing of a laugh as you can.

nicholas’ head turns away from the tv look at you, gaze flicking down to your phone, “what’s funny?”

“i just saw maki on tinder.”

“what?” his attention is completely caught, nicholas picking up the remote to pause what he was watching. “seriously?”

“yeah!” you chuckle, more so at nicholas’ lack of realization rather than maki’s nonexistent tinder account. shaking your head, you look back down to your phone. “oh my gosh, i can’t believe he’s on here.”

"me neither." he shifts closer to you, his words laced with disbelief that already sounds like he's planning to tease maki later. "let me see."

nicholas holds his hand out expectantly, waiting for your phone. only to stop.

his brows pinch together as his eyes dart between you and the screen. "wait."

he looks at you again.

"what the hell?" a confused laugh escapes him. "why are you on there?"

𐔌   .  ˚ BYUN EUIJOO ֹ  ₊ ꒱

pressing record on your phone, you let out a laugh. "oh my gosh."

"what's up?" euijoo looks up from his phone, turning his head to look at you from where he lays on your stomach.

"i just found fuma on hinge."

"what?" your boyfriend's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, propping himself up on his elbow to sit up straight. "no you did not."

his voice is full of disbelief, a laugh slipping out with his words.

“yes i did, his bio’s so corny!” you argue, pretending to look down at your phone and read out fuma’s so-called profile.

euijoo’s eating up your every word, completely invested as he sets his phone down.

“wait show me! i can’t believe he’s on a dating a—“ his hand reaches out for your phone, ready to snatch it from your hands. halfway through the sentence, he pauses, hand freezing midair. 

his eyes flick between you and the screen before a confused realization settles across his face. the laughter from just moments ago disappears from his voice. “baby.”

“mhm?”

his eyebrows furrow, head falling into a perplexed tilt. “why do you have hinge?”

𐔌   .  ˚ NAKAKITA YUMA ֹ  ₊ ꒱

"no way."

yuma's eyes look up from his switch. he tilts his head, silently prompting you to go on.

as if to double-check what you just saw, you glance back down at your phone—which was actually recording your boyfriend's reaction to your next words.

"i just found harua on hinge."

"what?" he lowers his arms, laughing. an amused smile that spells trouble spreads across his face. "really?"

you nod.

“seriously?” scheming giggles find their way through his words, “i need to call him, that’s hilarious!”

you can almost see the endless ways he plans to tease harua about this running through his head, grin spreading wider as he scans the room for his phone. that is, until his brows furrow, the thought finally clicking in his brain. his gaze snaps back to yours.

"...wait. what?” the amusement on his face is quickly wiped off.

"harua," you repeat, holding in your laugh. "he's on hinge."

"no, yeah, i heard that." yuma puts his switch down, crawling over to you on the couch before reaching out for your phone. "...why are you on hinge?"

𐔌   .  ˚ ASAKURA JO ֹ  ₊ ꒱

“baby.” 

unaware of your phone recording him, jo's head lifts from his sketchbook, his eyes meeting yours. “mhm?”

you have to bite your cheek to keep a sly grin from breaking out on your face as you speak. “you’re never gonna believe who i just saw on tinder.”

at your words, jo blinks. the smile on his face falters, a confused wrinkle settling between his brows.  “…who?”

“yuma!”

he just pauses.

“oh.”

your heart drops a little, “what’s wrong? isn’t it funny?”

the question is barely a whisper, laced with concern, “why are you on tinder?” 

𐔌   .  ˚ SHIGETA HARUA  ֹ  ₊ ꒱

“no way.”

“hm?” harua looks up, mid-bite through his food.

“baby, i just found taki on hinge.”

your boyfriend’s snack is long forgotten when the words leave your mouth, unaware of your phone recording his reaction.

“what?” his eyes widen as he leans forward, setting his food down. “taki?!”

you laugh at him, his mouth slightly agape. 

“yeah, he’s on hinge,” you reiterate. “the dating app.”

harua sits up straighter, moving his head to catch a glimpse of your phone screen.

"wait, show me. i wanna see!"

you angle the screen away, keeping the act up a little longer as you feign scrolling through his profile.

"gosh, these pictures are hilarious.”

his eyebrows furrow as he laughs, his curiosity only growing. "show meee!"

you continue pretending to scroll, fighting back your laughter as harua leans closer in an attempt to see the screen.

"wait," he stills.

harua's eyes flick between you and your phone.

"what?" his expression shifts into confusion as realization slowly settles in. "baby, why are you on a dating app?"

𐔌   .  ˚ TAKAYAMA RIKI ֹ  ₊ ꒱

“holy shit,” you say, camera pointed up at your boyfriend as subtly as possible.

he sat across from you at the table, finishing the last of his meal, attention caught by your words.

“what?” his eyes are twinged with the slightest worry when they meet yours. “what’s wrong?”

“i just saw jo on tinder.”

his chopsticks clatter, dropping into his rice bowl as his eyebrows shoot up. “jo?”

“yeah.”

laughter bursts out of him, loud enough for the other customers around you to turn their heads. 

“no way, oh my gosh.” a huge grin is plastered on his face, seemingly tickled by the concept of jo having a dating profile. “really?”

you crack up at his reaction, nodding through laughs at his cluelessness.

“can i see?” he holds his hand out, waiting for your phone. “how’d you find him?”

“i was just swiping and he came up.”

“no way…” he laughs again, shaking his head as he reaches for your phone like he won’t believe it until he sees it.

his hand freezes halfway.

“wait what?” his eyes snap up to yours.

"what?" you ask innocently.

"...what are you swiping for??"

𐔌   .  ˚ MAKI ֹ  ₊ ꒱

watching the countdown on your phone hit zero, you point your camera at maki, who sits across from you at the dining table.

“oh my gosh, babe. you’re never gonna believe this.”

“what?” he looks up from his phone, thumbs still typing away on the keyboard. “what’s up?”

putting on your most genuine voice, you tell him, “i just found nicholas on tinder.”

"what?" his fingers halt over the screen, eyebrows furrowing as the corners of his mouth tick up. “are you deadass?"

you nod, a giggle escaping you.

maki blinks down at your phone before letting out an amused laugh, already picturing nicholas with a dating profile. "what the fuck that’s hilar—" he cuts himself off mid-sentence. "...wait."

"yeah?"

maki slowly sets his phone down on the table. "how'd you..." his eyes lift to yours before dropping back to your phone.

before you can stop him, he reaches across the table and you shriek as he snatches it from your hands with a bewildered smile.

"why are you on tinder?"

you can't answer. the moment he finally puts the pieces together, you can only burst into laughter.

maki looks down at your screen to see the camera open, recording his every reaction, before rolling his eyes with a groan.

"oh, come onnn."

it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

he’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

and as much as you wish you could bottle this moment up and keep it forever, you suppose a photo strip will suffice.

you take his hand, dragging him toward the photo booth tucked in the corner of the arcade. jo nearly stumbles after you with a startled laugh, ducking his head as you both squeeze inside.

there’s barely enough room for him. his long legs are awkwardly crammed up toward his waist, shoulders brushing against yours every time either of you move.

as you slip the bill into the machine and scroll through the photo frames, warmth radiates from jo beside you. his hands rest stiffly in his lap, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them.

you glance over.

“you nervous?”

jo’s ears turn pink almost immediately. “a little.”

you let out a short giggle, finally selecting a frame. a robotic voice begins to count down and you rest your head on jo’s shoulder, a soft smile playing at your lips.

3… 2… 1… click!

the camera flashes and jo chuckles at the photo. “i look so awkward,” a pink flush creeping up his cheeks.

“i think you look cute,” you argue as you grab his face, pressing a kiss onto his cheek as the camera snaps another photo. his face heats up underneath your touch as you let go.

he turns to look at you with parted lips, eyes wide. his breath hitches as his gaze drops to your lips, licking his own.

you feel your own cheeks warm at the eagerness in his eyes, like he’s trying not to look too hopeful. but you remember the way he looked at you earlier that day, the way his body mirrored yours without thinking, his gaze fixed on you like you were the most captivating thing in the room. like he’s liked you for far longer than he knows what to do with. 

he tucks your hair behind your ear, his knuckles brushing your cheek. “can i kiss you?“ barely above a whisper, he asks, ignoring the click of another photo.

his words are bold but you don’t miss how his tips of his ears have turned a bright pink, or the shaking of his leg as his foot bounces on the ground. it’s cute.

it almost makes you want him more. you nod, “please do.”

3… 2… 1…

the camera flashes just as he presses his lips to yours, slow yet certain, like this is all he’s ever wanted. like he’s imagined it hundreds of times before. maybe you have too.

he cups your face in his hand, angling his head so that your faces slot perfectly together. firm, yet almost shy. you taste the sweetness of your own lip gloss along with the delicate bitterness of the matcha you shared just minutes before.

your hands find his way into his hair, ruffling it up ever so slightly. jo lets out the quietest breath against your lips–surprised, almost–before kissing you once more, softer this time. lingering.

not rushed.

like he wants to remember every second of it.

the faint whirr of your photos being printed brings you back to reality. back to the noisy arcade outside the booth, to flashing lights and distant game machines and the rest of the world that suddenly feels unimportant compared to this.

when you pull away, jo’s breath is heavy. his hair is messy where your fingers ran through it, lips slightly swollen. his face beet red as he brings his hand to his lips, the ghost of yours still lingering.

you reach over to grab the photo strip as it slides out of the machine.

your eyes catch on the last photo. your eyes closed, fingers tangled in his hair, jo smiling into the kiss so softly it makes your chest ache. for a moment, you think maybe this is what happiness looks like.

a tiny moment captured on glossy film. small enough to fit between your fingers, yet meaningful enough to stay with you forever.

pulling you from your thoughts, still slightly breathless, jo glances at the strip before looking back at you.