darling you~

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 1. Overgrown puppy cuddles

Mingyu is a large puppy that just doesn’t understand how big he is. At least, that's how you see him. Whenever your boyfriend comes home from an especially rough day at work, he wants cuddles. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he'll pout and beg until you sit down on the couch and let him cuddle up in your lap.

"You're crushing me," you mutter.

You're sitting with your legs over the couch cushions, your back against the armrest. Mingyu's laying over your body like a human blanket—one of those electrical blankets that people use in winter. The man is warm.

"Boyfriend privileges," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You sigh because you know he's right, you'd let him do this even if he's crushing your bones. Letting your fingers tangle in his hair, Mingyu let's out a sound of approval and nuzzles his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His arms are around your torso, making sure that you don't even try to move. Not that you would.

"Did you have a long day?" you ask softly and he hums. "My poor baby..."

You coo at him, and he whines—he's relishing in being doted on. Mingyu's arms squeeze you a little, a silent sign that he wants you to continue.

"You work so hard, don't you?" You wait for Mingyu to nod before you coo again, "My hardworking Gyu, you're doing such a good job. People love you, you know that? They appreciate your work. So do I."

Mingyu tilts his head up, his eyebrows raised as he silently asks for confirmation. "I really do," you add.

"Thank you..." He puts his forehead against your chest and sighs. "I needed this... needed you."

"I know, puppy." You smile and ruffle his hair.

Mingyu groans and lifts his upper body off of you, his arms resting on the armrest behind you. "Oh, finally! I can breathe!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry," he mutters.

You cup his face in your hands. "I was kidding. I don't mind." You lean in and press a kiss on his pouty lips. "You're like my blanket... or like a Saint Bernard who's forgotten he's not a puppy anymore."

Mingyu smiles at that, before leaning in to litter your face with pecks that have you giggling and squealing.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 2. Random massages

You're in line for a ride at an amusement park when Mingyu suddenly turns to you. It's been at least five minutes since you started waiting, and you can tell he's getting impatient. His foot taps rhythmically on the ground, and he keeps glancing at his watch.

"Can you give me a massage? My shoulder's stiff," he huffs, rubbing the offending spot for emphasis.

"Again?" Your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Gyu, you should really go see a specialist..."

Mingyu pretends to ponder this suggestion, then shakes his head with a playful grin. "I don't need a specialist if I have you."

You sigh and roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at his pleading expression. His big, puppy-like eyes, the way his smile showcases his adorable canines, and his hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer make it impossible to refuse. "Sure," you mutter, already resigning yourself to his request.

The line moves a little, and you both shuffle forward a few steps. You're momentarily distracted by the imposing structure of the rollercoaster ahead, watching as the cart sends passengers hurtling through loops and dips at breakneck speed. Your reverie is interrupted by Mingyu poking your side.

"What?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Please?" he repeats, his tone even more imploring.

"Now?" You glance around at the crowd surrounding you—though no one seems to be paying attention, you feel self-conscious.

"Now," Mingyu insists, nodding earnestly.

"Babe, I can't massage you here. You know you shouldn't take off your shirt in public, right? Even if we do find somewhere private, I don't have any oils—"

"Not a big one." He interrupts, holding up his hand with his index finger and thumb inches apart. "A small one. Just on the spot on my shoulder."

"Gyu—"

"Boyfriend privileges," he pleads quietly, eyes wide and hopeful.

You can't say no to him when he gets like this. With a resigned sigh, you motion for him to turn around. He does so eagerly, bending his knees slightly to give you better access to his shoulder. Placing one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, you begin to work your thumb into the knot you find there.

Mingyu lets out a soft, contented sigh, only audible to your ears, as he relaxes almost immediately under your touch. The tension in his shoulder melts away, and his head drops forward slightly, eyes closing in relief. The gentle hum of the amusement park, the chatter of the crowd, and the distant screams from the rollercoaster all fade into the background as you focus on easing his discomfort.

Despite the oddity of the situation, there's something intimate and endearing about the moment. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of your own making. And as you massage Mingyu's shoulder, you can't help but feel a warm rush of affection for him and his silly, endearing ways.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 3. Sharing food

The restaurant is alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter. However, all of this fades into a distant background as you focus intently on Chan's story. It's a rare opportunity to meet the members in person, despite your boyfriend working so closely with them, so you want to make the most of every second.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is lost in his own world. Ever since he finished his meal, he’s been zoned out—leaning back in his chair with a distant look in his eyes. You can't decide if he's impatiently waiting for Chan to finish or if he's just succumbed to a food coma. But when he casually reaches over and steals a fry from your plate, your doubts about the food coma vanish. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze with a small, mischievous smile before grabbing another fry. You let him.

A sudden gasp beside you snaps you back, and you turn to see Jun staring at you with mock jealousy from across the table. You smile and tilt your head questioningly.

"What?" you ask, bemused.

"You hit my hand when I tried to borrow a fry from you," Jun accuses, his eyes narrowed at you.

"First of all, I gently slapped it," you correct him. "Second of all, you were stealing, not borrowing. Don't try to make your crime sound better."

Jun huffs dramatically, and you can't help but grin. Meanwhile, Mingyu, taking advantage of the distraction, nabs another fry from your plate. There are almost none left now. As Jun reaches out to make another attempt, you slap his hand away with a swift motion.

"But he—" Jun starts to protest.

"Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu interjects smoothly, popping the last two fries into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

You hear a collective groan from the others at the table, but you just chuckle at Mingyu’s proud expression. "Mhm, boyfriend privileges," you repeat softly, unable to suppress a smile.

You lift a hand to gently brush the hair out of Mingyu's face, and he looks at you with a loving smile that makes your heart flutter. The warm feeling in your stomach is more than just the satisfaction from the delicious food you've eaten.

"Can I finish telling my story now?" Chan interrupts, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You pull your gaze away from Mingyu and refocus on Chan, giving him your full attention once again. "Go on," you say, eager to hear the rest of his tale.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 4. Seeing you first thing in the morning

The feeling of someone's soft breaths feathering against your face makes you scrunch your nose in sleepy annoyance. Mingyu's warm hands travel to your waist with the familiarity of someone who’s done it a million times before. And he has. His touch is intimate and assured, sliding over your skin with practiced ease. He knows you're awake now, evident by the low hum you let out, so he presses a few tender kisses on the bare skin of your clavicle, each one like a gentle spark of warmth.

"G'morning," you mutter, your voice still heavy with sleep, the words blending into a sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers softly, his breath tickling your skin.

You recognize his morning voice—his "I just woke up" voice—so you can tell he’s been up for a while. His voice sounds clearer, more alert, like he’s had time to turn around and take a sip of the water he always leaves on his bedside table.

"Have you been awake for long?" you ask, your words barely above a whisper as his lips continue their gentle exploration, each kiss a tender reminder of his affection.

"Since eight-thirty," he answers between kisses, each one a delicate attempt to keep you as close as possible.

You glance at the clock, seeing that it's almost nine already. "Babe, you've been awake for half an hour... why didn’t you wake me up?"

Mingyu pauses his kisses to look up at you, his expression soft and affectionate, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Turning his head slightly, he looks over at the clock and hums thoughtfully.

"I was busy," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. He nestles his head back in the crook of your neck, his warmth enveloping you, but doesn’t resume his kisses, much to your dismay.

"Busy doing what?" you murmur, curiosity piqued, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.

"Looking at you," he admits with a giggle, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze is filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, and he's trying his best to hold back a big grin. "It's my boyfriend privilege. Only I get to see you like this."

"It's a privilege to see my bed head?" You snort, but Mingyu stays serious, his eyes unwavering, his hand gently stroking your cheek.

"Everyday," he replies softly, his voice a tender caress.

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, and you can't help but smile. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a soft, lingering kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, the kiss deepening with the love and tenderness that has grown between you over the months. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

When you finally pull back, Mingyu's eyes are half-lidded, his expression content and serene. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch light and loving. "I love these quiet mornings with you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

"Me too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection, your eyes locked with his.

You snuggle closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The world outside can wait a little longer as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, the quiet intimacy of the morning making everything else fade away. Mingyu's hands continue their gentle caresses, his fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. You feel utterly cherished, each touch and kiss a testament to the love you share. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body against yours create a cocoon of contentment that you never want to leave.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 5. Showing you off

"Gyu!" you shout from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

The sound of his long steps come closer and closer until the bathroom door pushes open. Mingyu's head peeks through the gap in the door, and smiles as soon as he sees you. You're wearing the new dress he bought you, the cute sundress that couldn't help himself from buying when he saw you looking at it.

"You're pretty," he murmurs and slinks into the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around you, your back relaxing into his chest. "Mingyu," you repeat.

"What?" He pulls his eyes away from the dress to meet your eyes.

"What time is it?" you ask again with a teasing smile.

"Oh, it's around three-thirty." His hands find your waist. "We should leave in half an hour."

You nod and start packing up your make up. "Good, I think I'm done anyway... do you think I look okay?"

Mingyu lets go of you, spinning you around to face him. You can only grin while he studies you carefully with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed in focus. After a few seconds, he nods—satisfied with what he's seen.

"Perfect." He puts his hand right below your jaw, careful not to disturb the make up on your face. "You look perfect, baby."

His smile remains radiant as you arrive at his family's get-together, a constant beam of joy that lights up the entire evening. Mingyu keeps you close, his arm possessively yet gently wrapped around you, presenting you to the members of his family you haven't yet met. Every introduction is accompanied by a glowing remark about you, his voice brimming with pride. You feel like a movie star at a film premiere—the constant pampering, the way his eyes sparkle every time he looks at you, and the sneaky photos he snaps when he thinks you're not looking.

Mingyu can't seem to stop showering you with compliments. "This is my partner," he says, beaming, as he introduces you to yet another relative. "They're incredible, you know. Smart, kind, and absolutely stunning." He turns his head to you, trying to contain his big smile by biting down on his bottom lip.

You blush, murmuring polite responses, but his praise never ceases. It's in the way he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and the way he never lets go of your hand, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture.

Throughout the evening, Mingyu is a constant presence by your side, his touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of social interactions. His family is warm and welcoming, their smiles genuine as they embrace you into their fold. The air is filled with laughter and conversation, the smell of delicious food wafting through the house, creating an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness.

Mingyu’s playful nature shines through as he snaps candid photos of you, his grin widening each time you catch him in the act. "You’re just too beautiful not to capture," he explains with a cheeky smile, earning a soft laugh from you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself growing more and more flustered under the weight of his unending compliments. Yet, there's a thrill in it—a heady mixture of embarrassment and joy at being the center of his universe. His family notices, and they tease him gently about his lovesick behavior, but it only makes him hold you closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that make your heart flutter.

By the time the evening winds down, you’re overwhelmed with affection, feeling cherished and adored in a way that leaves you breathless. The warmth of Mingyu’s family, combined with his constant praise and tender glances, has wrapped you in a cocoon of love and contentment. As you prepare to leave, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close for a tender kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with genuine gratitude. "You made everything perfect."

You smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Thank you for taking me along... I don't think I've seen you like this before," you admit, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" He cocks his head, his eyes curious and endearing, making you laugh softly at his obliviousness.

"You were trying to show me off all night," you explain, a playful note in your voice. Seeing his slightly worried expression, you quickly add, "It was sweet, Gyu. Really, it was."

Relief floods his features, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. The kiss is soft, lingering a second longer than it should, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. "It's my boyfriend privilege to get to show you off," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

You groan playfully, rolling your eyes at his words as he starts giggling, the sound infectious and heartwarming. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to the cab he's ordered to take you home. The night air is cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, but Mingyu's hand in yours keeps you warm.

As you approach the cab, he pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. "You know," he says softly, brushing a stray hair from your face, "You should wear that dress more often."

"Oh yeah?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Yeah," he whispers.

With one last lingering kiss, you both get into the cab, his arm never leaving your shoulders. As the city lights blur past the window, you lean into Mingyu, feeling his warmth envelop you.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 6. A shoulder to cry on

When you enter the apartment, none of the lights are turned on. You worked late that day, but not so late that Mingyu would've gone to sleep already. The apartment is eerily quiet, devoid of the usual warmth and liveliness. Toeing off your shoes and putting away your outerwear in their rightful places, you start to wonder if he's not home. He usually texts you when he gets home, but you haven't received any messages.

Concern etches between your brows as you walk further into the apartment. The kitchen is spotless, with no pots or pans on the stove—not that you always expect Mingyu to cook, but he had told you earlier today that he'd have something ready for you when you got home. You open the fridge, finding it just as you left it this morning. The absence of any signs of recent activity deepens your worry.

As you pass the bathroom by the guest room, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow to see the path to your shared bedroom. By the ajar door, you notice a piece of fabric slumped together on the floor. Picking it up, you realize it's Mingyu's jacket. You drape it over your arm and continue to the bedroom, your heart pounding with unease.

He's not there, but you see that the light in your bathroom is on, a soft glow seeping through the cracks in the door. You place his jacket on the edge of the bed before approaching the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

You knock softly, pressing your ear against the door. "Mingyu, I'm home... are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," he replies, but his voice is thick with tears. "Sorry, I didn't have time to make you dinner... I think there's some leftovers from yesterday."

"Please, open the door." Ignoring his suggestion about dinner, you grab the door handle. "I can hear that you're not okay."

You hear him sigh, and his footsteps approach the door. Stepping back, you wait as the door swings open. The first thing you see is his bloodshot eyes and red nose. He sniffles and looks away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"I'm..." He hesitates, torn between lying and being honest.

Before he can decide, you engulf him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. "Oh, baby..."

The dam breaks as a sob bubbles up Mingyu's throat, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that shatters the silence. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking into your shirt. You can feel the wet warmth of his tears spreading, a tangible sign of his anguish.

You rub his back soothingly, your hand moving in slow, comforting circles. Each sob wracks his body, causing his shoulders to tremble violently. His fingers clutch at your shirt, holding on as if he might drown without this anchor.

Minutes pass, each one heavy with his sorrow, until finally, his sobs begin to subside. His shoulders stop shaking, and his breathing slowly evens out, though occasional hiccups still break through. Only then do you loosen your embrace, though you don't fully let go. Instead, you gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that cling to his skin. His eyes are red and swollen, filled with a mixture of lingering sadness and gratitude.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask softly.

"...can I tell you later? I'll start crying again if I tell you now." He lets out a choked laugh, trying to relieve the tension, but your frown remains.

"Okay. Let's get you cleaned up."

You gently wipe away Mingyu’s tears, your thumb brushing over his cheeks with tender care. His skin is warm and damp, his eyes still glistening with the remnants of his sorrow. Your touch is gentle and reassuring as you guide him to change into more comfortable clothes. You help him out of his work attire, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers, and replacing it with a soft, worn-in t-shirt that brings him comfort. Each movement is deliberate, designed to soothe and calm him. You then help him into a pair of loose, cozy sweatpants, ensuring he's enveloped in softness and warmth.

Once he’s settled, you guide him to the couch in the living room, your arm around his waist, supporting his slow and heavy movements. The weight of his exhaustion is impossible to miss, his shoulders slumped and his steps dragging. He collapses onto the couch with a weary sigh, sinking into the cushions as if they might absorb some of his burden.

You start to leave for the kitchen, intending to get him something to eat or drink, but he grabs your hand. His grip is firm yet desperate, his fingers curling around yours with a silent plea for you to stay.

You turn back to him, your heart aching at the sight of his vulnerable expression. Mingyu looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and need. "Don't leave," he whispers.

"I'm going to heat up some leftovers," you explain. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Mingyu shakes his head no and lets go of your hand. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around the kitchen, quickly putting something together. It's not fancy, and it's nothing like what he usually makes you, but it's enough for the two of you right now.

When you return to his side, you give him his bowl before settling down next to him. You eat in silence, letting Mingyu sit as close to you as he pleases. When you're done, you take the dishes to the kitchen. Although you want him to sit still and rest, he follows you—his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time.

It's hard to move around, but you don't complain. Soon enough, the dishes are done and you're back on the couch. Mingyu has his arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You don't have to thank me." You lean up to look him in the eye. "Me taking care of you is your boyfriend privilege."

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before closing his eyes. The two of you end up falling asleep on the couch on accident. But your stiff body is worth it when you get to see Mingyu smiling at you the next morning.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 7. A shoulder to nap on

On the flight back home from a much-needed vacation, Mingyu booked the two of you first-class seats. It was partly because he loves spoiling you, but also so you could sleep comfortably on the way home. The plush seats and extra legroom were a perfect idea, promising a restful journey, but right now, that comfort feels like a far-off dream.

The flight was delayed by a few hours, leaving you and Mingyu stuck at the gate. The airport buzzes with the quiet hum of late-night travelers, the occasional announcement crackling over the PA system. The two of you sit in the lounge, surrounded by weary passengers slumped in their chairs, eyes glazed with fatigue. The smell of coffee and cleaning agents lingers in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of newspapers and the muted clatter of luggage wheels.

Mingyu tries to make the best of the situation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the weariness. "Just a little longer," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the delay, his presence is a comforting anchor in the sea of exhaustion, his voice a soft murmur that calms your racing thoughts.

You glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. The soft lighting of the lounge casts a warm glow, but it does little to chase away the tiredness settling into your bones. Mingyu's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring, each stroke a silent promise of love and comfort.

"I can't wait to be home in my bed," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with exhaustion.

Mingyu leans his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek as he closes his eyes with a contented sigh. The weight and warmth of his head against your shoulder provide an unexpected comfort, grounding you in the moment. "This is enough for me," he says softly, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin.

"My shoulder?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, feeling the vibration of his chuckle through the closeness.

"Yes," he replies, his tone earnest and affectionate. His closeness feels intimate and safe, a bubble of tranquility amidst the chaos of the airport.

"And why should I let you have my shoulder?" you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you relish the closeness.

"Boyfriend privileges," he replies matter-of-factly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. The slight pressure of his lips against your skin sends a wave of warmth through you.

You sigh, a mixture of amusement and tenderness filling your heart. The playful banter and the sincere love in his voice make your heart swell. You tilt your head to rest against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The world around you fades into a comforting blur, the distant chatter of the airport and the mechanical hum of the environment becoming mere background noise.

For a moment, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth and love. His presence is a cocoon of safety and affection, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax fully in his embrace. The gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and the soft, warm pressure of his head against yours create a symphony of comfort that lulls you into a peaceful state.

Your peace is soon interrupted, however. Finally, the boarding announcement crackles through the speakers, breaking the heavy silence of anticipation and sparking a collective sigh of relief that ripples through the gate area. The weariness of the long wait begins to lift as passengers gather their belongings. Mingyu helps you gather your things, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way to the boarding line. His touch is a reassuring anchor, grounding you amidst the bustling crowd.

"Almost there," Mingyu whispers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank goodness," you reply, offering him a tired smile.

The atmosphere shifts as you step onto the jet bridge, a mix of excitement and fatigue hanging in the air. The cool, conditioned air of the plane greets you as you board, offering a welcome contrast to the stuffy terminal. The flight attendants greet you with warm smiles, guiding you toward the plush sanctuary of first class.

Settling into your spacious seats, the world outside begins to fade away. The soft cushions envelop you in comfort, and the generous legroom allows you to stretch out and relax. Mingyu stows your carry-ons in the overhead compartment with ease, his movements fluid and practiced.

As he sits down beside you, the overhead lights cast a gentle glow. "This is so much better," you murmur.

Mingyu smiles, reaching over to adjust your blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness that melts your heart. "I told you it would be worth the wait," he says softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You can't help but smile at the thought of curling up next to him, the hum of the plane's engines a soothing backdrop. "You always know how to spoil me," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"It's my favorite thing to do," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Besides, you deserve it."

As the plane takes off, you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The world outside the window shrinks to a distant blur, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you, Gyu," you murmur, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

"For what?" he asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"For everything. For this. For you," you whisper, your words trailing off as sleep begins to claim you.

"Always," he replies softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "Sleep well, my love."

Wrapped in the comfort of his love and care, you drift off, the promise of restful sleep finally within reach. The gentle touch of his fingers lulls you into a peaceful slumber

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 8. Lunch boxes

When someone called out for lunchtime, the members collectively let out a big sigh of relief. With tired limbs, they make their way to the cafeteria. While everyone else lines up to buy something, Mingyu heads straight to the fridge and retrieves a carefully prepared meal. He sits down at a table, placing the metal box with a wooden lid in front of him. A pink, stretchy band adorned with tiny red strawberries holds the spoon in place. His face lights up with a smile as he spots the small note on the lid.

Hope practice is going well! I know you're working hard, so please enjoy your lunch and eat well! Can't wait for you to come home♡(>ᴗ•)

Mingyu carefully folds the pink post-it and tucks it into his phone case, a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. By then, people have started sitting down beside him, their eyes subtly glancing at the box in front of him. Nobody says anything—they already know what it is—until he opens it.

Inside the box is a beautifully arranged Korean lunchbox. The main compartment holds perfectly steamed white rice, topped with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. Nestled beside it is a portion of crispy fried chicken, golden brown and glistening with a light coating of sweet and spicy sauce. The other sections are filled with a variety of colorful banchan: neatly sliced kimchi, lightly seasoned spinach, sweet and tangy pickled radish, and tender strips of stir-fried beef bulgogi. There’s even a small section of rolled omelette, its yellow hue bright and inviting.

The delicious aroma wafts up, drawing envious glances from his fellow members. The savory scent of fried chicken and the tangy hint of kimchi fill the air, making everyone's mouths water.

"Did Y/N make you another lunchbox?" Seokmin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, they were working from home yesterday, so they had some extra time on their hands," Mingyu replies, a small smile playing on his lips as he inspects the beautifully arranged food.

"It's not fair that only you get homemade lunches from Y/N!" Seungkwan whines, his tone a mix of genuine envy and playful teasing.

Mingyu responds by sticking his tongue out at Seungkwan, making the younger man groan in exasperation. "Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu states proudly, his grin widening.

As he digs in, Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, savoring the flavors and the love that went into preparing his meal. The meat is perfectly seasoned, the rice fluffy, and the banchan vibrant and flavorful. Each bite is a reminder of your care and effort, making the meal taste even better. The members watch with a mix of admiration and envy as Mingyu enjoys his lunch.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 9. Bath buddy

As you walk the last bit to the door of your apartment building, you notice a figure in the distance. A tall man, vaguely boyfriend-shaped, waving both of his arms over his head with enthusiasm. Your heart skips a beat, and your smile matches Mingyu's as you break into a run, closing the gap between you. He’s sweaty from the gym, his skin glistening in the fading light, but you don’t mind. You launch yourself into his embrace, pressing yourself as close as possible, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his body.

"Are you trying to squeeze me to death?" he asks jokingly, his voice vibrating against your ear.

You loosen your grip slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "You have no idea how much I've missed you today."

Instead of teasing you, Mingyu gently pats your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a comforting touch. He sees the weariness in your eyes and the way your hair seems to stick out in all the wrong places, evidence of a long, hard day. "Bad day, hun?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

The moment he speaks, you feel your guard drop completely. Your lips naturally fall into a pout, and your hands grip the material of his shirt a little tighter. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the exhaustion you feel. Mingyu coos at you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, offering silent comfort. He then guides you to the door, his hand resting on the small of your back, a steadying presence.

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" he asks as he opens the door for you, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Okay," you murmur.

Once inside, the apartment feels like a sanctuary, the chaos of the outside world fading away as the door clicks shut behind you. The familiar scent of home, mingled with Mingyu's comforting presence, immediately begins to soothe your frazzled nerves. He leads you to the bathroom, his touch a constant, reassuring anchor as he guides you down the softly lit hallway. The gentle hum of the apartment envelops you, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

In the bathroom, Mingyu starts running the bath, the sound of water filling the room like a calming symphony. You watch as he carefully adds your favorite bath salts, the granules dissolving into the warm water and releasing a soothing aroma. The scent of lavender and chamomile fills the air, creating a spa-like atmosphere that begins to unwind the knots of tension coiled within you.

Mingyu helps you undress with tender, loving movements, his touch feather-light yet filled with purpose. His fingers trace the contours of your body with a delicate touch, each gesture a silent reassurance of his love and care. The way his hands glide over your skin, unhurried and gentle, sends a wave of warmth through you, dispelling the day’s weariness.

He sheds his own clothes with practiced ease, the fabric slipping off his toned frame effortlessly. The sight of his familiar form, strong and comforting, brings a sense of security and warmth. His skin, slightly glistening from the exertion of the day, catches the soft light, highlighting the lines of his muscles and the contours of his body. There's a serene beauty in the way he moves, each action unhurried and filled with quiet confidence.

Stepping into the bath first, Mingyu eases himself into the steaming water with a sigh of contentment, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into the tub, the water enveloping him like a warm embrace. His eyes, inviting and filled with affection, lock onto yours as he extends his hand towards you. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent invitation wrapped in love and intimacy.

You take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip as he helps you into the tub. The water envelops you in a gentle embrace, its warmth soothing your tired muscles. You settle between his legs, leaning back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against your back.

As you relax into his embrace, Mingyu's arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands begin to gently massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots of tension with skillful precision. The sensation is both relaxing and intimate, his touch a balm to your weary soul. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling the stress of the day melt away under his tender ministrations.

The soft glow of the bathroom light casts a golden hue over everything, enhancing the sense of intimacy and warmth. Shadows dance along the walls, creating a serene and almost magical ambiance. The only sounds are the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional sigh of contentment from both of you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice soft and content.

"I love you too," he replies, his lips brushing against your ear.

You stay like that for a while, the water lapping gently around you, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and the steady rhythm of Mingyu's breathing. It’s a perfect moment of peace and connection, wrapped in the comfort and love that only he can provide.

After a few minutes, Mingyu shifts slightly behind you, his movements gentle yet purposeful. "Can you wash my hair?" he asks softly, his voice laced with a boyish charm that makes your heart flutter.

You smile, turning slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Of course," you reply, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hands you the shampoo, and you pour a generous amount into your palm. Mingyu dips his head back into the water, wetting his hair thoroughly before leaning forward to give you better access. The rich, lathering scent of his shampoo fills the air, mingling with the soothing aromas of the bath salts, creating a calming symphony of fragrances.

Your fingers work through his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle, circular motions. The silky strands slip through your fingers, and you take your time, ensuring each section of his hair is coated with the fragrant lather. Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, his body visibly relaxing under your ministrations.

"This feels amazing," he murmurs, his voice a low, relaxed hum that sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, continuing your careful work. "You deserve it," you say softly. "It's your boyfriend privilege, isn't it?"

Mingyu chuckles, the sound a soft, comforting vibration against your chest. Before he can respond, you pick up the shower head, adjusting the temperature before gently rinsing out the shampoo. Tilting his head back with a gentle hand, you let the warm water cascade through his hair, washing away the suds and leaving his hair clean and soft.

He leans back against you once more, his hair damp and silky against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded with contentment, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

"Anytime," you reply, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment create a cocoon around you, shutting out the rest of the world. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, a steady, reassuring rhythm that syncs with your own. Mingyu's hands rest gently on your arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the tranquility of the bath.

The two of you stay like that, cocooned in warmth, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a golden hue over everything. The sounds of the water and your synchronized breathing create a peaceful ambiance.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 10. Tie-fixer

You were already in your pajamas, nestled comfortably in bed with your book, when Mingyu walked in, still dressed in his suit but without his tie. The crisp white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slight dishevelment of his attire made him look irresistibly charming. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, adding to his effortlessly handsome appearance. He didn't have to say anything; the moment your eyes met his, you were already putting your book to the side and swinging your legs out of bed, the anticipation of helping him a welcome routine.

"Where's your tie?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice, tilting your head slightly.

Mingyu pulls the piece of fabric from his pocket and hands it to you, a weary yet appreciative smile playing on his lips. The tie is cool and smooth in your hands, its silk gliding between your fingers. Rising to your feet, you step close to him, your fingers deftly slipping the tie around his neck. The familiar action feels intimate, almost like a ritual between the two of you, a small moment of connection in your busy lives.

As you slowly begin to tie it, your fingers working methodically, you glance up at him. "How long is the event?" you ask, your voice soft and caring, eyes meeting his with genuine concern.

"I probably won't be home until after two," he says with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of his long night ahead settles in. The lines of fatigue on his face tug at your heart.

"It's okay. I want you to have fun," you murmur, focusing on the tie but feeling the sincerity of your words. "I'll be busy with dinner and my book anyway."

Mingyu watches you, his eyes softening as he takes in your familiar, comforting presence. "I wish you could come with me," he says quietly, his hands gently resting on your hips as you finish tying the knot. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent promise of his affection.

You tighten the tie and smooth it down, patting his chest gently. "You know I'd love to, but someone's got to hold down the fort here," you reply jokingly, your smile warm and reassuring.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, resonating in the quiet of the room. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "Let's not find out," you whisper, your cheek pressed against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Mingyu hugs you tightly, savoring the closeness, the scent of his cologne mingling with the comforting smell of home. When he finally pulls back, he looks down at you with a mix of love and reluctance. "I really should go," he says, though he doesn't make a move to leave just yet.

"I know," you reply, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it back into place. "You'll be amazing, as always."

"Mm, especially with such a well-tied tie," he smiles playfully at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm so lucky for my boyfriend privilege."

You chuckle softly, resting your hands on his chest. "Yes, you're very privileged," you tease. "Just remember that when you're out there charming everyone."

Mingyu grins, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. "How could I forget? My number one fan is waiting for me at home."

You roll your eyes, but your smile is fond. "Just don't let it go to your head."

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. "No promises... I'll miss you," he says, his voice softening as he cups your face in his hands.

"I'll miss you too," you reply, covering his hands with yours.

He gives you one last lingering kiss, his lips warm and tender against yours, a promise of his return. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can," he promises, his voice filled with genuine affection, his hand squeezing yours gently.

"I'll be waiting," you say softly, watching as he finally turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The room feels a little emptier without him, but you return to bed, your book waiting patiently. For a moment, you just sit there, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the subtle ache of his absence, already looking forward to his return.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ... 11?

The winter chill had settled in, but the warmth of Valentine's Day wrapped the city in a blanket of love and excitement. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of snow, mingling with the fragrance of roses that seemed to bloom on every corner. Everywhere you looked, couples were bundled up in cozy scarves and gloves, holding hands, sharing tender smiles, and exchanging sweet nothings. The city streets were transformed into a romantic wonderland, with heart-shaped lights casting a soft, warm glow on the cobblestone paths, creating a dreamy ambiance that made everything feel just a little more magical.

Mingyu had planned the entire day with meticulous care, wanting to make every moment special for you. The day began with the gentle sound of his voice waking you, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, holding a tray with breakfast in bed—fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, topped with fresh berries, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. The sweet aroma filled the room, and as you shared the meal, you couldn't help but smile at how perfectly the day had started.

The afternoon was spent strolling through the city, the two of you arm in arm as you visited all your favorite spots. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the holiday, but for you, time seemed to slow down, every moment stretching into something memorable. You laughed over shared memories, pointing out familiar landmarks and reliving inside jokes that only the two of you understood. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth of Mingyu's hand holding yours, or the way his laughter seemed to melt the chill away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light over the city, Mingyu surprised you with dinner at the restaurant where you’d had your first date. The sight of the familiar entrance made your heart skip a beat, and when you stepped inside, the ambiance was perfect—low lights that cast a gentle glow over the intimate setting, soft music playing in the background, and a table tucked away in a quiet corner just for the two of you. Mingyu looked absolutely perfect, the flickering candlelight highlighting his features, making his eyes sparkle with a warmth that mirrored the love in your heart.

He was wearing the turtleneck you had gotten him last December, the deep burgundy color standing out beautifully under his sleek black coat. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made you fall in love with him all over again.

The dinner was delicious, every bite savored as you reminisced about that first date and how far you'd come since then. But as the evening went on, you noticed a certain tension in Mingyu—a subtle shift in his demeanor. He was attentive as always, but his hand gripped yours just a little tighter, and his eyes, though filled with affection, seemed to hold something more—an emotion he hadn’t yet put into words.

When dessert was finished and the check was paid, Mingyu suggested a walk through the park. The idea seemed simple, but there was something in his tone that made your heart flutter with anticipation. The park was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the branches. The path was dusted with a light layer of snow, which crunched softly underfoot as you walked side by side, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of other couples enjoying the night.

The cold nipped at your nose, but Mingyu’s presence kept you warm. He walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours with every step, and as you made your way deeper into the park, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become. His hand, warm and reassuring in yours, was steady, but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface, a sense of something important hanging in the air between you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the world around you gradually fading into the background as you simply enjoyed being together. The park was peaceful, the night air crisp and clear, with the soft crunch of snow underfoot being the only sound between you. The distant twinkle of lights reflected off the lake's surface, casting a serene, almost magical glow over the scene. The sky above was an expanse of deep navy, dotted with stars that peeked out from behind the clouds, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

As you approached a secluded bench near the lake, Mingyu began to slow down, his footsteps becoming more deliberate. His breath was visible in the cold air, curling upward in soft, white puffs. The quietude around you seemed to intensify, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Mingyu stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lights strung up in the trees, making them look like they were sparkling with unshed emotions.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost tender, as he pulled you closer. Without waiting for your response, he wrapped his coat around you, his touch protective and warm.

"Not with you here," you replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. But as you looked up at him, you noticed something different, a subtle tension in his expression. "... you're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Mingyu smiled, though there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to say all day," he began, his tone serious but laced with affection, each word carefully chosen. "Valentine's Day is all about celebrating love, right?"

You nodded, curiosity piqued, your gaze never leaving his. "Right..."

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs before he released it slowly, his hands still holding yours, their warmth grounding you both. His expression softened, and the affection in his eyes deepened, becoming almost palpable. "Well, I wanted to celebrate us... You know how I've always said I'm lucky to have boyfriend privileges?" His lips curled into a small, playful smile, the familiar phrase bringing a rush of warmth to your chest. It was an inside joke that had grown between you, a phrase that had come to symbolize the depth of his love.

You laughed lightly, nodding, your heart fluttering. "You've mentioned it a time or two."

"Well," he continued, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more serious, more profound. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself for what he was about to say. "I've been thinking a lot about what that really means. About how much I love you, and how my life has been so much better with you in it. I don't just want boyfriend privileges anymore. I want... something more."

The air around you seemed to still, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Mingyu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"Mingyu... what are you saying?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you searched his eyes, hoping for confirmation of what you suspected.

"... I want husband privileges," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. The words tumbled out like a secret he had been holding close to his heart, and as they settled between you, the weight of them was almost overwhelming.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in, sending a rush of emotion through your entire being. Before you could fully process what was happening, Mingyu reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The deep burgundy of the box stood out against the black fabric of his coat, catching the faint light from the lanterns around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he dropped to one knee, the world around you dissolving into a blur. The soft glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine with a love so intense it took your breath away.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, each word laced with raw emotion. "Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you, and being your forever? I want to be your husband, not just today, not just tomorrow, but every day for the rest of our lives."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the ring, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made tears well up in your eyes. Your hand flew to your mouth in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest as the magnitude of the moment hit you. The world seemed to stop, the night holding its breath as you looked down at him, his expression filled with hope, love, and adoration.

"Mingyu," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion, each word carrying the weight of your love for him. "Yes. Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tension in his shoulders melted away as his face broke into the widest smile, relief and joy flooding his features. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and reverent. The ring was perfect—simple, elegant, and exactly what you would have chosen. It glimmered softly in the light, a tangible symbol of the promise you had just made to each other.

Without hesitation, Mingyu stood up, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off your feet. He spun you around in a joyful whirl, the cold air forgotten as you both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet park. The night seemed to come alive with your happiness, the trees around you swaying gently as if to share in your joy.

When he finally set you down, his arms remained around you, pulling you into a kiss. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks, his touch warm and steady. The tenderness in his grip made your heart swell, and as he leaned in, you could feel his breath mingling with yours, a soft, shared anticipation hanging in the air. When his lips finally met yours, it was as if time itself slowed. The kiss was soft at first, a delicate, reverent connection that conveyed everything words couldn’t.

But then, it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, purposeful intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a passion that burned through you, igniting every nerve. His kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a vow sealed with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. You could feel his love in the way his hands held you, not too tight, but firm enough that you knew he never wanted to let go.

As his lips molded perfectly against yours, the rest of the world faded into oblivion. The cold night air, the distant sounds of the city, even the twinkling lights around you—all of it dissolved into the background, leaving only the warmth of his kiss, the rapid beat of your heart, and the overwhelming flood of emotion between you. It was as if the two of you existed in your own universe, a moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with reverence and devotion, as if the words were sacred.

Tears still glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you too, Mingyu. I hope you're ready for all the husband privileges."

He laughed, the sound rich and full of joy, resonating with the happiness that radiated from him. It was a laugh that spoke of a future filled with love, laughter, and countless more moments like this. He pulled you into another embrace, his arms holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "This is the best Valentine’s Day of my life," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"It’s just the beginning, baby," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as you looked up at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every line that spoke of his love for you.

The two of you stood there in the park, wrapped in each other’s arms as the lights twinkled around you, the cold air nipping at your cheeks but failing to penetrate the warmth that enveloped you both. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt like it would last forever.

As you walked back home, hand in hand, the silence between you was filled with contentment and the unspoken promises of what was to come. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger. The excitement of what lay ahead filled you with warmth, and as you leaned into Mingyu, you knew that your life together would be filled with endless love, laughter, and, of course, husband privileges.

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Then, it happens. The delicate scent of vanilla threads through the cool night air, a subtle whisper slicing through the cacophony, wrapping around him like a silk ribbon. It carries the unmistakable promise of your presence, a scent as familiar as it is intoxicating, drawing him in with the soft persistence of a lullaby. It’s subtle, almost elusive, but to Sunwoo, it’s as familiar as his own heartbeat.

His heart skips a beat, a familiar thrill coursing through him as he instinctively knows it’s your perfume. The rest of the world fades away; the many voices become a distant murmur, and the crowd around him blurs into the background. His pulse quickens, anticipation buzzing in his veins as he turns, searching the street with a singular focus.

And then he sees you. You’re standing just outside the his groups of friends, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights, waving at him with that radiant smile that never fails to make his heart flutter. You’re only wearing jeans and a light sweater, shivering slightly in the chilly evening air. Your eyes, warm and sparkling, meet his, and in that instant, everything else melts away.

The world around you both seems to pause, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, fleeting moment. Sunwoo’s breath catches in his throat, his expression softening as a sense of calm washes over him. There’s an undeniable pull, a magnetic force that draws him to you, and without a second thought, he starts weaving his way through the small crowd, eager to close the distance between you.

“Baby!” he exclaims, his voice rising above the din, louder than intended thanks to the buzz of alcohol still coursing through his system. His joy and excitement burst forth in a way that’s impossible to contain, and the group of people nearby turns to look, their conversations momentarily halted.

Embarrassed by the sudden attention, you mumble apologies to those around, your cheeks warming under the curious gazes. Sunwoo had called you half an hour ago, his voice slurred but sweet, asking you to come pick him up after a night out with his friends. It hadn’t taken much to convince you—just a few soft words about how much he missed you, and you were already slipping on your shoes and grabbing your keys.

“They’re taking me home to their place!” Sunwoo explains to his friends, his words tumbling out with childlike excitement, as if he hadn’t already told them his plans a dozen times.

After a round of goodbyes that seem to drag on forever, Sunwoo finally reaches your side again. The chill in the air nips at your skin, and without a word, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, his touch lingering for just a moment longer. The warmth of his jacket, combined with the gesture, sends a flush of warmth through you.

“There,” he murmurs, his voice soft and tender as he adjusts the collar around your neck. “Can’t have you freezing out here.”

You smile up at him. "I thought I was supposed to take care of you."

"You'll get your chance." He wears a cheeky smile, and pulls you in a little closer for a short kiss. He tastes of beer, but you don't mind as you feel him smile against your lips.

Sunwoo, still a little unsteady, takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He’s eager, almost too eager, as he pulls you along, but his steps are aimless, zigzagging as he struggles to maintain a straight path. You chuckle softly, gently steering him toward your car, guiding him with a patient hand as you navigate through the chilly night together.

He stumbles slightly as he reaches for the passenger door, a lopsided grin on his face as he leans against the car for balance. “Got it, got it,” he mumbles, fumbling with the handle before you gently push his hand aside to open the door for him.

“Thanks, baby,” he says, his voice soft and affectionate as he climbs into the seat. He’s all smiles as he settles in, his head resting back against the seat, eyes half-closed as he breathes out a contented sigh. You close the door behind him and circle around to the driver’s side, the brisk air urging you to hurry.

Once inside, the warmth of the car’s interior wraps around you both, a welcome contrast to the crispness of the night. You glance over at Sunwoo as you start the engine, your gaze lingering on his relaxed expression. His eyes are closed now, his breathing steady, but there’s still a small, happy smile playing on his lips.

As you pull away from the curb, the quiet hum of the engine and the gentle vibration of the road create a soothing rhythm. The city lights flash by in a blur of neon and headlights, but the world inside the car feels peaceful, almost serene. Every so often, Sunwoo shifts slightly in his seat, murmuring something incoherent under his breath, his hand reaching out as if searching for you.

Without taking your eyes off the road, you reach over and take his hand, your fingers entwining with his. He squeezes your hand gently, the warmth of his touch spreading through you like a soft glow. His thumb brushes against your skin in a slow, lazy motion.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” he mumbles after a while, his voice drowsy. “You’re the best.”

“Of course,” you reply, glancing over at him with a smile. “I’ll always come for you, Sunwoo.”

He opens his eyes just enough to look at you, his gaze filled with a tender warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “That’s why I love you.”

As you drive, the comforting scent of vanilla lingers in the air, and Sunwoo inhales deeply, the familiarity of your perfume grounding him even as his head swims from the night’s drinks. He closes his eyes again, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leans toward you, savoring the scent that reminds him of you. It’s sweet, warm, and comforting—a fragrance that feels like home to him.

When you finally pull up in front of your apartment building, you gently release his hand and turn off the engine. For a moment, you just sit there, taking in the peaceful quiet of the night, the soft rise and fall of Sunwoo’s breathing beside you. You lean over to gently nudge him awake.

“Sunwoo, we’re here,” you whisper, your voice soft as you brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

He blinks his eyes open. “Your place?” he asks, his voice thick with drowsiness, but there’s a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “It was your idea, remember?”

He smiles, his gaze softening as he takes in your words. “Right... I like that idea,” he murmurs, still slightly drowsy, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that tells you he’s happy to be with you.

The moment you step out of the car, the brisk night air bites at your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth you’ve just left behind. But before the chill can settle, Sunwoo’s arm is around your shoulders, drawing you into the shelter of his body. His touch is reassuring, a silent promise of protection as you navigate the dimly lit pathway to your apartment, each step resonating with the quiet intimacy you share. His steps are more stable now, but he leans on you slightly, as if reluctant to let go of the warmth and closeness you share.

The scent of vanilla clings to you, stronger now as he’s close to you, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck as you wait for the elevator. “You smell so good,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. "You always do."

You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’m glad you like it,” you reply, pressing the button for your floor.

When you finally reach your apartment, Sunwoo is almost half-asleep again, his head nodding slightly with each step. But as soon as you unlock the door and step inside, he perks up, the familiar warmth and comfort of your home welcoming you both. The soft glow of the lamps casts a cozy light over the living room, and the subtle scent of vanilla lingers in the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of your space. Sunwoo sighs in relief, kicking off his shoes with a bit more effort than usual as you close the door behind you.

He stumbles slightly, trying to push his shoes together with his foot, his brow furrowed in concentration. It’s endearing, watching him focus so intently on such a small task, but after a moment, you can’t help but smile as you squat down to help.

"Do you want something to eat, or do you just want to go to bed?" you ask, setting his shoes neatly to the side.

Sunwoo pauses, swaying slightly as he thinks it over. "Do you have ramyun?" he mutters, his voice thick with sleepiness, but there’s a hopeful glint in his eyes.

You smile softly, charmed by his request. "I can make you some," you reply, standing back up. "Why don’t you go wash up in the meantime? Does that sound nice?"

When you meet his gaze, you’re greeted by Sunwoo’s lovesick grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “Very nice,” he agrees.

You stifle a laugh, gently nudging him toward the bathroom. “Then go. I have some spare clothes you left here last time—they’re in the usual spot.”

Sunwoo mumbles something under his breath, something about how well you take care of him, as he stumbles off toward your bedroom. You watch him for a moment, a fond smile tugging at your lips, before turning your attention to the kitchen.

The apartment is quiet except for the faint sound of water running as Sunwoo washes up. You move around the kitchen with practiced ease, pulling out a pot and filling it with water, your thoughts drifting as you prepare the ramyun. The stove clicks on, a small flame flickering to life beneath the pot, and you find yourself smiling at the simple, familiar routine of it all.

As the water begins to boil, you reach for the packet of noodles, tearing it open with a soft crinkle. The rich scent of the seasoning fills the air as you pour it into the bubbling water, stirring it gently. Steam rises in delicate tendrils, curling around your face and carrying with it the savory aroma of the meal you’re preparing.

The soft padding of footsteps behind you catches your attention, and before you can turn around, you feel Sunwoo’s presence close behind. His freshly washed scent, the smell of your body wash that he definitely borrowed, wraps around you like a comforting embrace. His arms slide around your waist, and he presses his chin against the your shoulder, sighing contentedly.

“That looks delicious,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your back.

You smile, your hands still stirring the pot as you lean back into his warmth. “It’ll be ready soon,” you reply softly.

For a few moments, you both stand there in the kitchen, the only sounds the gentle bubbling of the ramyun and the quiet hum of the apartment around you. It’s a peaceful kind of silence, filled with the unspoken understanding that this, right here, is where you both belong.

Sunwoo nuzzles into the curve of your neck, his breath a warm whisper against your skin as he inhales deeply, savoring the familiar blend of your perfume and the lingering traces of the night air. His hands tighten on your waist, their warmth seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment. The intimate pressure of his body against yours sends a ripple down your spine, like the first touch of sunlight after a cold dawn.

"You smell nice," he hums, his voice low, edged with a hint of something more.

"You said that," you reply with a soft chuckle, your tone playful, but there’s no denying the way his words affect you.

"Mm, and I mean it..." His voice trails off as he presses a kiss to the curve of your neck, slow and deliberate, his lips lingering just long enough to leave a tingling sensation. His hold on you tightens as if to anchor himself in this moment, savoring the blend of your scent and the feel of you against him.

He trails another kiss along your neck, his lips barely brushing your skin as his breath fans out in a warm exhale. "You’re making it really hard to focus on anything else right now," he murmurs, his voice husky with unspoken desire.

"Is that so?" you whisper back, your own voice laced with a teasing challenge, though the quickening of your pulse betrays your growing anticipation.

Instead of replying, Sunwoo’s hands slide from your waist to your hips, pulling you closer as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his lips grazing your earlobe. “You’re impossible to resist when you smell this good,” he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate whisper that sends a thrill through you.

The atmosphere in the kitchen shifts, the air between you charged with a tension that’s as intoxicating as the scent of your perfume. His kisses become a little more insistent, each one sending a wave of warmth through you that stirs something deeper. The soft, rhythmic bubbling of the ramyun on the stove is the only reminder of where you are, but even that feels secondary to the heat building between you.

You can’t help but smile, tilting your head slightly to give him better access, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. “Maybe we should take this to the table,” you suggest, your voice soft, though it’s clear that the idea of moving doesn’t hold much appeal.

“Or,” he counters, his tone rich with suggestion as he nips gently at your ear, “we could just stay right here...”

The suggestion hangs in the air, tempting and full of promise, but the bubbling ramyun eventually pulls you back to the moment. You feel a pang of playful regret as you gently pull away from his embrace, turning your attention back to the stove. “Hold that thought,” you say with a soft laugh, your heart still fluttering from his touch.

When the noodles are finally cooked, you turn off the stove and reach for a pair of bowls, but Sunwoo doesn’t let go entirely. Instead, he shifts his hold slightly, his arms still wrapped around you as he leans his chin on your shoulder, watching you with a sleepy smile. His presence is a comforting weight against you, a silent assurance that the closeness you share isn’t going anywhere.

You serve the ramyun, pouring a little extra into his bowl, the difference almost imperceptible but meaningful all the same. “Here you go,” you murmur, holding out his bowl to him as he finally lets go to take it from your hands.

“You’re spoiling me,” he teases, his voice soft and full of affection.

“Maybe,” you reply with a playful smile, handing him a steaming bowl. “But you deserve it.”

He takes the bowl from you, his fingers brushing against yours and, for a moment, he just looks at you. “Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice sincere.

You smile back at him, feeling a deep sense of contentment as you both make your way to the small dining table. The two of you sit down, the warmth of the meal and the comfort of each other’s presence making the night feel just right.

As you eat together in the soft glow of the kitchen lights, Sunwoo keeps stealing glances at you, his expression one of pure happiness. And when he finally finishes his meal, he leans back in his chair, sighing with satisfaction.

“Best ramyun I’ve ever had,” he declares, a playful twinkle in his eye.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” he replies, his smile widening. “Especially when you make it.”

The two of you linger at the table for a while longer, the conversation light and easy, filled with quiet laughter and the kind of comfortable silences that come with knowing each other so well.

After a while, with the meal finished and your conversation winding down, you begin to gather the empty bowls and utensils. Sunwoo starts to stand, clearly intending to help, but you gently nudge him back into his chair with a soft smile. “I’ve got this,” you insist, stacking the bowls in your hands. “You just relax.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but the contentment in your eyes stops him. Instead, he leans back, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watches you move around the kitchen. There’s a warmth in the way he looks at you, a mixture of admiration and affection that makes your heart flutter.

As you turn on the faucet and start rinsing the dishes, you hear the soft creak of the chair as Sunwoo finally rises from his seat. You’re about to remind him that you have everything under control when you feel his arms slide around your waist, pulling you gently back against him. His presence is a comforting weight, his body warm against yours as he rests his chin on your shoulder yet again.

“Couldn’t just sit and watch you work,” he murmurs, his voice a low hum against your ear. “Not when I could be close to you instead.”

A smile tugs at your lips as you continue washing the dishes, his touch grounding you in the moment. “You always have to be close, don’t you?” you tease, your voice light as you scrub the remnants of ramyun from the bowls.

“Can you blame me?” he replies, his breath warm against your neck as he nuzzles into your hair.

His hands slide up your sides, settling just under your ribs as he pulls you even closer, his fingers splaying out as if to keep you there. There’s a quiet intensity in the way he holds you, his touch lingering and affectionate, making even this simple task feel like something more.

You tilt your head slightly, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “You know, this isn’t exactly helping me finish the dishes,” you point out with a playful grin, though there’s no real protest in your tone.

“Maybe not,” Sunwoo concedes, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he speaks. “But it’s making me feel better.”

You laugh softly, the sound mingling with the quiet clink of dishes being washed. “I guess that’s worth something.”

The two of you stay like that for a while, the rhythm of washing dishes punctuated by the steady rise and fall of his breath against your back. It’s a different kind of intimacy, one that feels just as meaningful as any grand gesture—a shared moment of domesticity.

As you place the last dish in the drying rack, you turn in his arms, facing him with a smile. “All done,” you announce, wiping your hands on a nearby towel.

Sunwoo doesn’t move away, his hands still resting lightly on your hips as he gazes down at you with a contented smile. “Thank you,” he says softly, his voice filled with warmth.

“For what?” you ask, tilting your head slightly in curiosity.

“For everything,” he replies, his eyes searching yours as if trying to convey just how much he means it. “For the food, for letting me stay over... and for just being you.”

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands as you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s soft, unhurried.

When you pull back, Sunwoo’s smile has grown lazy and his eyes half-lidded. “What do you say we head to bed?” he suggests, his voice still soft but laced with a hint of playfulness.

"I hope you're only planning on sleeping. You're still not sober, you know?" you remind him.

"You sober me up," he argues while wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face in your neck again.

"Mhm, sure, babe." You pat his head and move him to the side to get him a glass of water. "I'm putting a glass of water by your side of the bed in case you wake up in the middle of the night, okay?"

Sunwoo hums in response. He seems to have already forgotten his earlier mission, and is lazily making his way to your bedroom. You watch his slumped figure wobble to the door and open it. He looks back at you expectantly, and you immediately follow after him.

While you change into your pajamas, Sunwoo rips off his clothes until he's only in his underwear—even when it's cold outside, he prefers to sleep this way. He gets into bed, and you get in shortly after him. His arms wrap around you slowly, feeling your skin under his palms as he drags his hands around your body. Your head naturally falls into the crook of his neck, and you finally smell it. It's faint, like he had tried to wash it away, but it was still there.

"Babe," you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Did you put on my perfume?"

Seokmin knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but curiosity got the better of him. He inched closer, careful not to let his presence be known. The door was left slightly ajar, and Seokmin decided to peek through it. Through the narrow gap, he saw you sitting opposite the professor, your posture tense, hands fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. It was how he saw you most of the time, other than the few times he would see you in the library - then, your shoulders were always relaxed, your nose was in a book so big that Seokmin seriously worried for the librarian’s back, and your eyes made it seem like you were in a different dimension, completely focused.

“What do you think about becoming my TA for the undergraduate class this semester?” the professor asked, his tone encouraging yet firm.

You hesitated, your eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. “I’m not sure, Professor. I mean, I have my thesis to focus on, and I’m not sure if I can handle the extra responsibility.”

The professor leaned back in his chair, a patient smile on his face. “I understand your concerns, but I believe this experience could be invaluable for your academic and professional growth. Plus, you’ve always been one of my top students. I have faith in your abilities, you should too.”

After a moment of silence, you nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Seokmin's mind raced. This was an unexpected development. He had always admired you from afar—you're beautiful, absolutely, but more importantly he admired your dedication and your passion for astrophysics—but he never had a reason to interact closely with you. Until now.

An idea sparked in his mind. If you were going to be a TA, maybe he could be one too. It would give him the perfect opportunity to be near you, to finally break the ice.

Just as you started gathering your things to leave, Seokmin quickly moved back, pressing himself against the wall to avoid being seen. You walked out of the office, your face a mixture of apprehension and determination. You don’t see him.

Seokmin took a deep breath, steeling himself. Any thoughts of his thesis vanished as he stepped forward and knocked lightly on the open door.

“Come in,” the professor called out.

Seokmin entered the room, his heart pounding in his chest. “Professor, do you have a moment?”

The professor looked up, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “Of course, Seokmin. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if there are any open TA positions for this semester,” Seokmin said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “I think it could be a great learning experience for me, especially if I decide to continue on my academic career after graduation.”

The professor's eyebrows rose in mild surprise, but he quickly nodded. “As a matter of fact, there is an opening… and I appreciate your initiative. I’ll put you with one of my other students for the undergrad course in astrophysics. The other TA was worried about it, I’m sure they’ll appreciate your help.”

Seokmin couldn't help but smile. This was his chance—not only to assist in the course but to get to know you better. As he left the office, he felt a sense of excitement bubbling within him. The semester was about to get a lot more interesting.

You step into the classroom on your first day as a TA, and a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through you. The room is bright and spacious, with large windows letting in the morning light. The faint smell of chalk and old books fills the air. A smile appears on your face as you take it all in. Although you were nervous, this was your dream– or at least one step on the way to it. You set down your bag and begin organizing the materials for the lecture, trying to focus on the tasks at hand to calm your racing thoughts.

As you arrange the papers on the desk, you hear the door creak open behind you. Turning around, you're surprised to see Seokmin walk in, a confident smile on his face. He looks perfectly put together with his glasses on the tip of his nose, his button-down neatly tucked into his trousers, and his hair adorably messy. His presence catches you off guard, and you feel a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. You had seen him around before, always talking with someone in a way that you could never execute. People often told you, when you confided in them about your awkwardness, that people who were good at academics often had a harder time socially. Therefore, Seokmin stood out to you as an enigma - a goal that you could never meet. An irritating paradox of a human.

“Hey,” he says casually, setting his own bag down and pushing his black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, I—uh, the professor asked me to be his TA,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “What about you?”

“Same here,” Seokmin says, his smile widening. “Looks like we’ll be working together.”

You force a smile in return, but inside, a sense of dread begins to build. Working with Seokmin is not what you had anticipated - and not what you needed.

As the students start to file into the classroom, you watch Seokmin with growing unease. He moves through the room with an easy grace, greeting the students warmly and making small talk with them. His confidence is palpable, and it sets you on edge.

In contrast, you feel more reserved, and your interactions with the students are much more subdued. You can’t help but compare yourself to Seokmin, feeling a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly he seems to connect with everyone.

When the professor arrives, he announces to the students what the course material is and the TAs tasks are for the semester. Seokmin is given the more engaging responsibilities: leading study groups, assisting with experiments, and even giving a few lectures. You, on the other hand, are assigned the more mundane tasks like grading papers and organizing materials.

As the professor continues to outline the responsibilities, you wonder why your professor ever even asked you to become a TA. Seokmin catches your eye and gives you a friendly nod, but you can't bring yourself to return the gesture. He’s been handed all the opportunities you had hoped for. While you aren’t much for small talk, you know that you could hold a lecture–talking about the subject you love most in life in front of eager listeners is all that you want.

The classroom buzzes with anticipation as Professor Jeon prepares for the next segment of the lecture. Today, he’s promised a demonstration, and everyone is eager to see what it would be. The whiteboard is filled with complex diagrams and equations, and the projector displays an intricate star map.

“Alright, everyone, I need a volunteer,” Professor Jeon announces, scanning the room. His eyes twinkle with enthusiasm behind his glasses. Most of the students are sitting still in their chair, their eyes revealing worry—as if the slightest movement would make the professor turn and pick them out of the rest.

Desperate to prove yourself, you step forward without having heard much of what the professor had said. “I can help with that, Professor,” you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Professor Jeon smiles warmly. “Excellent. You’ll be representing a star in our demonstration.”

You take your place at the front, slightly confused over what he was doing. The room feels larger and the students’ eyes heavier as they focus on you. Seokmin watches with interest, leaning back in his chair with a curious grin.

“Now,” Professor Jeon continues, positioning you in the center of the room, “imagine that our TA here is a star in a distant galaxy.”

Seokmin can’t resist. “Look at you, shining bright like a star!” he calls out, his voice filled with mock admiration. The class erupts into chuckles, the tension easing slightly.

You shake it off and try to stay focused on the demonstration. Professor Jeon continues, explaining how stars form, their life cycles, and how they interact with other celestial bodies, using you as the centerpiece of his explanations. He moves around you, gesturing animatedly as he describes the various phases of a star’s life.

“Stars, like our volunteer here, go through stages of birth, life, and death,” he explains, pointing to you as he illustrates each phase. “From a protostar to a main-sequence star, and eventually, to a supernova or a black hole.”

Professor Jeon continues to explain the star's relation to other galactic entities, bringing up other students—now less nervous because of your contribution—to play different roles.

Throughout the rest of the lecture, Seokmin continued to refer to you as “Star.” After the class, you stay behind to organize the materials for grading. Seokmin approaches you, a friendly smile still on his face. “Need any help with that, Star?”

“I’ve got it,” you say a bit too quickly, trying to hide your frustration. “Thanks, though.”

“No problem,” Seokmin replies, still smiling. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

You nod curtly and turn back to your work, your mind racing. He continues to complete his own tasks before saying goodbye and leaving. How could someone who seems so perfect be so infuriating? As you stack the papers, you can’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that his presence seems to amplify. Your resentment deepens, fueling a sense of rivalry that you know will only make the semester more challenging.

As you leave the classroom, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your negative thoughts. But one thing is clear: working with Seokmin is going to be anything but easy.

Seokmin loved the first day of the semester. It was a fresh start, a new opportunity to connect with eager minds—not to mention that he got to work by your side. When he first saw you as he opened the door the the lecture hall he found himself feeling giddy for the first time in a while.

As he moved through the classroom, he made a point to greet the students, asking about their summer and what they hoped to learn this year. His easygoing nature made the students feel at ease, and soon enough, the room was filled with animated chatter.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Seokmin asked one student, who responded enthusiastically about something you couldn’t hear. He laughed and shared a quick, similar story of his own, making the students laugh as well.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you watching, a look of mixed emotions on your face. Seokmin wanted to include you, to make sure you didn’t feel left out. He knew how important it was for TAs to present a united front to the students.

“Hey, why don’t you tell them about that interesting project you worked on last semester? I’m sure they want to know what they could be doing in the future,” Seokmin suggested, turning to you with a smile.

You gave a brief, awkward nod and explained the project, but Seokmin sensed your discomfort. He tried to be supportive, but it seemed to make things worse. Nevertheless, he tried to seamlessly blend your short story with one of his own – taking away the attention from you.

Throughout the week, Seokmin continued his efforts to include you in discussions and tasks. While preparing for a lecture, he turned to you to share your insights.

“What do you think about this theory?” he asked, genuinely curious about your perspective.

You responded with a terse, “It’s interesting,” before quickly diverting back to your own tasks, having barely looked at what he was referring to.

Seokmin furrowed his brow, confusion clouding his eyes. “Have you really considered the implications of this? I’d love to hear more about what you think.”

You sighed, sensing his persistence. “I told you, it’s interesting,” you repeated, hoping he would take the hint.

Seokmin couldn’t understand why his attempts to include you were met with such resistance. He genuinely respected your intelligence and wanted to collaborate. He knew that the professor told him not to stress you out with lectures, but he couldn’t picture you as the type to get stressed out about talking about your thesis topic. Especially not when he had offered to take on the responsibilities that he thought would be the hardest for you to do. Nevertheless, every time he reached out, he felt like he was hitting a wall, further complicating the dynamic between you.

“Is everything okay?” he ventured cautiously, concern lacing his voice. “You seem... distant.”

You paused, looking up from your notes for the first time. “I appreciate your help, Seokmin, really. But I work better alone. It’s just how I am.”

He nodded slowly, trying to process your words. “I understand that, but teamwork is also important. We could achieve so much more together.”

“Maybe,” you conceded, “but I need to focus right now. Please.”

Seokmin sighed, reluctantly stepping back. “Alright. Just know that I’m here if you need anything.”

You nodded, grateful for his understanding but still feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between you. As Seokmin walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration and confusion. He respected your need for independence, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was more to your resistance than just a preference for working alone.

The library had always been your sanctuary, a place where you could immerse yourself in your work without distractions. Other than the librarian, Jeonghan, you didn’t have to speak to many people there–and talking to Jeonghan was hardly a difficult task for you. Although he acted as if he hated you for always asking him to bring out the “biggest and dustiest books he had ever seen,” you knew very well that he enjoyed your presence. But lately, even this haven was being invaded by Seokmin. Every time you saw him, he seemed perfectly at ease, balancing his research and TA duties with an effortless grace that you envied.

One evening, you walked into the library, your mind preoccupied with the growing pile of tasks. As you made your way to your usual spot, you saw Seokmin at a nearby table, surrounded by a stack of books and papers. He looked up and smiled warmly.

“Hey, how’s it going? How’s your thesis coming along?” he asked, his tone casual.

You forced a tight smile and replied, “It’s fine, thanks.” Inside, his question felt like a reminder of your own struggles, and it irritated you that he seemed to handle everything so easily.

Seokmin’s presence, once a minor annoyance, was becoming a constant source of irritation. His casual greetings and questions about your progress felt intrusive like he was keeping tabs on you. You tried to focus on your work, but his presence loomed large, a constant reminder of your perceived inadequacies.

During a late afternoon, as you were going to the professor’s office, you overheard a conversation that stopped you in your tracks. The door was slightly ajar, and the professor’s voice carried into the hallway.

“Seokmin has been doing an outstanding job,” the professor said. “His work ethic is impressive, and his contributions to the class are invaluable.”

You felt a pang of jealousy and frustration. Hearing the professor praise Seokmin so effusively only intensified your feelings of inadequacy and rivalry. It felt like no matter how hard you worked, you were always a step behind, always overshadowed by Seokmin’s achievements. It wasn’t like you could do something about it – the professor never allowed you to show what you were truly capable of. During the times that he had offered for you to hold lectures or seminars, Seokmin came in and took the opportunity away from you. The most you had managed to do was hold a few study groups, and it was only when Seokmin had been away.

As you walked away, your mind raced with thoughts of how to prove yourself, and how to step out of Seokmin’s shadow. The rivalry that had been simmering under the surface was now boiling over, driving you to work even harder, even if it meant pushing yourself to the brink.

The library was dimly lit, the scent of old books mingling with the sterile tang of late-night coffee. Although you appreciated Jeonghan letting you borrow the coffee machine in the librarian’s office, it truly tasted horrible–you were convinced the only reason Jeonghan liked it was that he poured in at least two packets of sugar in his cup. Around you, stacks of papers towered like miniature skyscrapers, each one a testament to the endless stream of work that flooded your life.

Grading papers had become a nightly ritual, sandwiched between frantic attempts to wrangle your thesis into coherence. The weight of it all pressed down on your shoulders like an invisible burden, threatening to suffocate any semblance of calm. Meanwhile, Seokmin got to have the job with all the glory and all the fun – at this point, you were starting to question if your professor had something out for you.

Fingers numb from hours of scribbling notes, you slumped forward, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to alleviate the headache that had been your unwelcome companion for days. The clock on your laptop blinked mockingly, its digits crawling towards midnight with relentless indifference.

It was then, in that hushed sanctuary of knowledge, that the dam finally burst. Tears welled up unexpectedly, blurring the lines of formulas, calculations, and the horrible handwriting of some of your undergrad students. The sound of your own choked sobs startled you, but you were too exhausted, too overwhelmed to care about appearances.

Unbeknownst to you, Seokmin had been nearby, engrossed in his own research until the echo of your distress reached his ears. Concern etched lines of worry across his normally composed features as he approached cautiously, unsure of how to breach the invisible barrier that separated you. 

“Hey,” his voice was soft, tentative, like a gentle breeze through a storm. He offered a tissue from his bag, the simple gesture more comforting than any words could convey. “Are you okay?”

Your initial instinct was to brush him off, to hide behind the façade of resilience you had painstakingly crafted. But tonight was different. Tonight, you were tired—bone-deep exhaustion that rendered you defenseless against the kindness in his eyes.

“I don't know.” The admission was barely a whisper, but Seokmin heard. Without hesitation, he settled into the seat beside you, the library chair creaking slightly under his weight. He didn't pry, didn't offer unsolicited advice. Instead, he simply began to gather the scattered papers, organizing them into neat piles with practiced efficiency.

You watched him in silence, marveling at the unexpected gentleness in his actions. Here was Seokmin, the academic rival who had seemed so untouchable, now offering a lifeline without expectation of reciprocity. He continued working, dividing the papers that you had graded and the papers that were untouched into two piles. Then, he silently started grading the latter. No words were needed. You wiped your tears and picked up your computer to begin working on your thesis again.

Minutes stretched into hours as the two of you worked side by side. Seokmin handled the grading, his elegant script flowing effortlessly across the pages. Meanwhile, you poured your fragmented thoughts about your thesis onto the screen, finding solace in the rhythm of typing keys.

In that shared silence, a subtle shift occurred. Walls that had once stood tall and impenetrable crumbled, revealing vulnerabilities neither of you had dared to expose before. As the night wore on, Seokmin's presence became a lifeline, anchoring you amidst the storm of deadlines and doubts.

By dawn, the library was bathed in the soft hues of morning light. The papers were graded, and the thesis draft was finally completed. Jeonghan came in just as the two of you were packing up, his long hair tied up and his glasses sitting on the tip of his nose. He looked at you with raised eyebrows and a disapproving glance—while he did allow you to stay in the library even after closing, he didn’t exactly encourage it. You sent him a tired, apologetic smile. He started walking towards you and finally spotted Seokmin. Jeonghan cleared his throat, gaining Seokmin’s attention from the pile of graded papers he was organizing.

“I’m assuming you two stayed here all night,” he said, “Otherwise, you’ve broken in before opening hours– and then I’d have to call the police.”

Seokmin immediately got flustered, profusely apologizing. The blubbering mess he became was probably from shock and sleep deprivation, but you had never seen him like this. A smile appeared on your face, and you put your hand on his shoulder.

“He’s joking, it’s fine.” You looked up at the librarian. “Right, Jeonghan?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waved his hand nonchalantly and started to walk away now that there was no more teasing to be done. “Clean up properly and be out of here in like ten minutes. I can’t have people knowing that I give you special treatment.”

You hummed and started packing up your things. Seokmin put the graded papers into a folder and stood up, stretching out his legs and arms.

“Do you do this a lot?” he asked.

“Not for this long, usually,” you muttered. “But yeah, why?”

“... no reason.” He shrugged and sat back down. “I thought that grading papers was the easier job.”

You scoffed and sent him an irritated glance.

“You’re the lucky one,” you said. “Holding lectures actually seems fun – most of the time, I’m just trying to decipher what most of these students are even writing.”

Seokmin nods solemnly and hands you the file. You stand up and bid him goodbye, before hurrying to administration to get the grades filed.

The lecture hall was almost empty, save for a few scattered students gathering their belongings after Professor Jeon’s rigorous class on quantum mechanics. Seokmin lingered near the doorway, watching you pack up your notes with a furrowed brow. He couldn't shake off the image of you from last night in the library, vulnerable and overwhelmed. Now he had to watch you sit through the professor’s lecture, pretending like you hadn’t just stayed up all night, and soullessly give out worksheets to the students.

Newfound awareness weighed heavily on Seokmin's mind as he replayed the events of the previous evening. He had always admired your intellect and dedication, but now, seeing the toll it took on you firsthand, he understood the gravity of your struggles. The pressure of expectations, both self-imposed and external, seemed to suffocate every moment of your academic life. He thought he had been nice to you, making your life easier by taking care of all the social aspects, but his perspective had been too narrow.

With a resolve born out of newfound understanding, Seokmin decided to act. He spotted you exiting the lecture hall, shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion. Without a second thought, he hurried after you, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

“Hey, Star, wait up!” he called out gently, reaching your side just as you reached the exit. “I thought you might need this.”

Exhaustion still fogged your mind, the remnants of last night's breakdown lingering like a dull ache. He was holding a cup of coffee out to you, you looked down at the paper mug and then back up at him. At Seokmin's gesture of kindness, your immediate reaction was instinctive—a defensive snap, laced with frustration and misunderstanding.

“I don't need your pity, Seokmin,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze as guilt flickered in your eyes.

Seokmin's heart sank at your words, but he didn't retaliate. He knew your reaction stemmed from exhaustion and vulnerability, not malice. Taking a deep breath, he waited patiently, understanding that healing wounds of insecurity took time and patience.

The next day, Seokmin found you in the same lecture hall, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes. This time, he approached cautiously, his usual confidence tempered by humility. “Can we talk?” he asked softly, careful not to startle you.

You glanced up, surprise flickering across your features at his persistence. Relenting, you nodded slightly, allowing him to join you at the table littered with equations and diagrams.

“I didn't realize,” Seokmin began quietly, choosing his words with care. “I didn't realize how much pressure you were under. If I had known, I would have never added to it.”

His sincerity resonated in the quiet sincerity of his voice, catching you off guard. 

“Added to it?” you questioned.

“I asked the professor to let me take care of the lectures and study groups,” he admitted. “I was truly only thinking of you, I thought I could make it easier for you.”

A bitter taste lingered in your mouth. All this time, this had been his fault – all of the doubt over whether or not your professor wanted to break your spirit had been nothing more than a request made by Seokmin. However, you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for just a moment before looking back at him.

“You wanted to make it easier for me?”

“I thought, since you don’t talk that much… it was dumb, I’m sorry.” He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses sliding up his forehead. “I’ll go tell the professor about it, we can reschedule things.”

“... thanks.”

The days following Seokmin's gesture of understanding were a delicate dance between acceptance and wariness. Despite the lingering skepticism, you couldn't deny the shift in dynamics between you. Seokmin's actions spoke louder than words, his genuine concern slowly chipping away at the walls you had erected. He asked the professor to change some of the duties, as he had promised, and even went so far as to offer to help you with your thesis. You allowed him to proofread it for you, and the two of you started spending more and more time with each other.

Reluctant acceptance crept into your interactions as you begrudgingly allowed Seokmin's presence and assistance. He no longer seemed like an adversary lurking in the shadows of your achievements but a partner navigating the same stormy seas of academia. His willingness to help without expectation of reciprocity was both unsettling and oddly comforting.

Late afternoons in the university's coffee shop turned into impromptu discussions about the mysteries of black holes that you were writing about as well as Seokmin’s thesis on altermagnetism. Your shared passion for space and astrophysics brought you closer together, each conversation revealing layers of depth and curiosity you hadn't anticipated.

One afternoon, amidst a lively debate on the implications of quantum entanglement, you found yourself sharing a piece of your past—the months you spent as a museum guide at the Jeju Starlight World Park and Planetarium. The memories flowed freely, painting a picture of a younger version of yourself enamored with the cosmos and its infinite wonders.

It was during this conversation that Seokmin proposed a trip—an invitation wrapped in sincerity and a hint of nervousness. “There's a free weekend coming up," he began tentatively, eyes fixed on yours with unwavering determination. "I thought... maybe we could visit the museum together."

Surprise mingled with nostalgia as you considered his proposal. The Jeju Starlight World Park held a special place in your heart—a sanctuary where stars glittered like promises against the velvet canvas of the night sky. Seokmin's offer to drive felt like an extension of his desire to understand you better, a chance to revisit a place where your love for astrophysics had taken root.

After a moment's hesitation, you nodded, a tentative smile curling at the corners of your lips. “I'd like that,” you admitted softly, the weight of uncertainty lifting with each heartbeat. In Seokmin's eyes, you glimpsed a flicker of gratitude and relief, a silent acknowledgment of the fragile bond blossoming between you.

The weekend arrived with a crispness in the air, promising a respite from the relentless pace of academic life. Seokmin pulled up in front of your apartment in his modest car, a hint of nervous anticipation in his eyes as you climbed into the passenger seat. He smiled warmly, trying to hide his nerves. "Ready for a little break, Star?"

You nodded, clutching your bag tightly. "I brought some work to catch up on during the drive."

Seokmin chuckled softly. "Of course you did."

The drive to Jeju Starlight World Park and Planetarium was long, and you were determined to work during the entire trip. You pulled out your laptop and began typing furiously, barely glancing up. However, as soon as the car started moving, the soft humming of the motor and the quiet songs coming from the radio lulled you into a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in weeks. Before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up, you were just about to roll up to the museum. You noticed that your computer was neatly tucked into your bag again, and that you had Seokmin's jacket draped over your lap. He must have stopped by the side of the road to help you, but you decided not to ask about it. Seokmin noticed you stirring and gave you a gentle smile. "Hey, sleepyhead. We're almost there."

You rubbed your eyes, a bit disoriented. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

"It's okay," he said. "You needed the rest."

Arriving at the museum, you were greeted by the familiar sight of the dome-shaped building, its façade adorned with twinkling lights that mirrored the stars above. Memories flooded back as you stepped through the entrance, the air scented with nostalgia and the promise of new discoveries.

Inside, the museum buzzed with activity. Visitors young and old marveled at interactive exhibits and life-sized models of spacecrafts, their faces alight with wonder. You led Seokmin through the exhibits with the confidence of someone revisiting a cherished haven, explaining the intricacies of stellar evolution and the beauty of the night sky.

In the planetarium, darkness enveloped you both as the dome above transformed into a canvas of celestial wonders. A hush fell over the audience as the narrator's voice guided you on a journey through the cosmos—galaxies swirling, stars born and dying in spectacular bursts of light. Beside you, Seokmin watched in awe, his usual composure giving way to childlike fascination.

After the show, you found yourselves outside under a sky strewn with stars. The air was crisp and cool, carrying with it the promise of a clear night. Seokmin broke the silence, his voice soft against the backdrop of the universe. “Thank you for coming with me, Star,” he said sincerely, eyes tracing the constellations above.

You smiled, touched by his gratitude. “It's always been a special place for me,” you admitted, your gaze following his to the heavens. “Even after I stopped working here, I used to come here to find inspiration when things felt overwhelming... I don't really have time for that anymore, of course.”

After a day filled with awe and shared moments at the Jeju Starlight World Park and Planetarium, Seokmin navigated the car through winding roads leading away from the museum. The sky had darkened, and stars peppered the canvas above, casting a soft glow over the landscape. Under the stars that had witnessed countless stories of love and longing, of dreams and discoveries, you and Seokmin found a moment of quiet peace.

“We should find a place to stay for the night,” Seokmin suggested, glancing at you with a gentle smile.

You nodded in agreement. Seokmin found a quaint motel nestled on the outskirts of town, its neon sign flickering a warm welcome in the darkness. The receptionist greeted you with a friendly smile, which you couldn't seem to return out of pure embarrassment, as Seokmin checked you in for the night.

“... and here’s your key,” the receptionist said and handed you one key.

“Oh, we’ll need two rooms,” Seokmin said.

“I’m sorry, we only have one.” The receptionist gave you an apologetic smile. “We could contact someone further down the road–”

“It’s alright,” you said. “We’ll just sleep in separate beds.”

“I’m sorry.” The receptionist paused and let out an awkward chuckle. “There’s only one bed in that room.”

Both you and Seokmin looked at each other. Neither of you were fit to drive, and even if you didn’t want to sleep next to him you realized that you would have to.

Entering the room, you were met with simple yet cozy accommodations—a bed draped in crisp linens, soft lighting casting a warm ambiance. The air hummed with the unspoken understanding that lingered between you, a growing tension that spoke volumes in the silence.

Moments passed as you both settled into the space, the weight of the day's experiences hanging in the air. Seokmin's eyes searched yours, his usual confidence giving way to vulnerability as he spoke softly, “Today has been... incredible.”

You nodded, mirroring his sentiment. “It really has,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You both got into bed, laying on your backs so as to not get too close. But as the night went on, neither of you could fall asleep. It was getting cold, and even the comforter wasn’t enough. 

“I’m freezing,” Seokmin admitted.

“Me too,” you replied.

“Star... do you… want to sleep next to me?” he asked tentatively.

“I already am, stupid.” You let out a nervous chuckle.

“No I mean–” Seokmin sighed. “I don’t want to be a creep, please just tell me if this is weird… but do you want me to… hold you? Just since it’s so cold, that's all.”

“... just because it’s so cold.”

The distance between you closed with each heartbeat, drawn together by an undeniable magnetism. Tentative touches turned into embraces, hands finding solace in the warmth of each other's presence. Words became unnecessary as the night unfolded, emotions spoken through lingering gazes and tender caresses. His heart was beating fast, but with every minute that passed he calmed down. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and he got comfortable under your head and slung around your waist. He smelled of florals, and something expensive and woody. Even his cologne was perfect. You sighed and nuzzled closer to him, and his embrace 

As dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, you awoke to find Seokmins fingers tracing patterns on your skin. You pretended to be asleep for just a little longer. In that quiet morning light, amidst the remnants of dreams and the promise of new beginnings, you both understood that the journey you had embarked upon was far from over. Eventually, he got up and got dressed and you pretended to wake up as well.

Back at the university, the air between you and Seokmin crackled with new energy—a silent understanding that transcended words. Your interactions became charged with unspoken feelings, lingering glances that spoke volumes, and moments of shared laughter that echoed long after they had passed.

In lecture halls and quiet corners of the campus coffee shop, you found yourselves drawn to each other like celestial bodies caught in orbit. Seokmin's kind comments and gestures of support became a lifeline amidst the tumult of academic pressures, each act deepening the connection that had silently taken root.

One evening, as twilight painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, you found yourself seated with Jeonghan at the library. Although he would often tease you and be relentlessly cocky, he had always been a calming presence – his gentle demeanor and insightful advice made him a trusted confidant. 

“I've been feeling... confused,” you admitted softly, uncertainty lacing your words as you wrestled with emotions that had blossomed unexpectedly. “Seokmin... he's really been there for me recently, supporting me in ways I never expected.”

Jeonghan listened attentively, his warm gaze encouraging you to unravel the tangled threads of your thoughts. With each word, clarity began to emerge—a realization that the admiration and warmth you felt for Seokmin ran deeper than mere professional respect.

“He's not just a rival anymore,” you confessed, a hint of awe coloring your voice. “He's been impressing me with his kindness, his understanding...”

The admission hung between you like a delicate veil, its weight buoyed by the relief of finally voicing your inner turmoil. Jeonghan nodded knowingly, a reassuring smile gracing his lips.

“You like him,” he said.

“What? No, I don’t– he’s a friend.”

“You slept in the same bed together, didn’t you?”

“Friends can sleep together…”

“Friends don’t describe the way someone smells like you just did,” he argued, referring to what you had told him earlier of your time in the motel.

“But I can’t like him… that doesn’t seem right.”

“Sometimes, the heart finds its way through unexpected paths,” Jeonghan mused, his words carrying the wisdom of someone who had witnessed the ebb and flow of countless emotions within the walls of the library. “What matters most is how you choose to navigate this journey. Trust your heart, but also trust in Seokmin's intentions. He seems like a good guy.”

“I keep forgetting that you can actually give good advice instead of just sly remarks,” you teased him and Jeonghan scoffed.

“What do you want me to say?” He chuckled. “‘Let me know how big his dick is when you get there?’”

“Jeonghan.” You groaned as your friend laughed – you were lucky that no one was in the library at this late hour.

“Seriously, though.” Jeonghan wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Seokmin seems good for you. You’ve definitely been less stressed since I caught the two of you in here-”

“You’re making that sound weird on purpose!” you exclaimed and Jeonghan grinned.

“Whatever, whatever…” He waved his hand as if to swat away his previous words. “Just think about it– by the way you’ve been describing him, he’s probably into you too. Maybe talk to him about it?”

With Jeonghan's words echoing in your mind, you knew that the time had come to confront your feelings, to acknowledge the unspoken connection that had blossomed between you and Seokmin—a connection that promised not just the possibility of romance, but a partnership grounded in shared dreams, understanding, and the quiet strength found in moments of vulnerability and acceptance.

After Jeonghan locked up the library, Seokmin ended up meeting up with you outside the faculty building. He looked tired, probably from grading papers or looking over reports, but he still smiled when he saw you walk past him with Jeonghan.  You excused yourself to the librarian and left to walk home with Seokmin – not without Jeonghan telling you to “Go get him,” of course.

The night draped the university campus in a serene quietness, the lampposts casting gentle pools of light along the pathways as you and Seokmin strolled together. Laughter still echoed softly between you, a rare moment of levity amidst the academic rigors.

In a playful jest you quipped, “You know, Seokmin, Jeonghan suggested you might be in love with me.”

The words spilled out almost reflexively, laced with a hint of nervous humor to disguise the vulnerability beneath. Your heart skipped a beat as you waited, half-expecting Seokmin to brush off your comment with a laugh. Seokmin stopped walking, and you followed suit. 

His expression shifted, his gaze intensifying. “Actually, I think I am in love with you,” he confessed quietly, his tone devoid of jest or uncertainty.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis at that moment, your breath catching in your throat as you processed his words. The playful banter melted away, leaving behind a raw honesty that shimmered between you.

“You... you're serious?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper, disbelief and hope mingling in equal measure.

Seokmin nodded, his gaze unwavering as he took a step closer. “I am,” he affirmed, his voice steady and sure. “I've been struggling to find the right moment to say it, but I've known for a while now.”

His confession washed over you like a wave, carrying with it a flood of emotions—joy, disbelief, and a profound sense of connection that surpassed the academic rivalry that had once defined your relationship.

In that quiet corner of the campus, under the canopy of stars that bore witness to your revelation, a shift occurred—a mutual acknowledgment of the feelings that had quietly blossomed amidst shared moments of vulnerability and understanding.

“I don’t know what to say…” you whispered.

“Don’t say anything, Star,” Seokmin said with a sad smile. “I don’t want this to get in the way of what you want out of your career – you shouldn’t be thinking about my feelings for you when you’re about to finish your thesis… we can always take it later.”

“... okay.” You nodded. “Please, don’t take this as me rejecting you.”

“I’m not.” He gave you a big grin. “It’ll be my motivation to finally finish my thesis.”

You smiled at him in return. As you continued your walk, the air between you hummed with newfound depth and possibility—a promise of a future yet to be written, illuminated by the light of a love that had bloomed unexpectedly, nurtured by the guidance of friends like Jeonghan and the quiet courage to embrace the unknown journey ahead. Your hand brushed against Seokmin’s several times on your walk home, but neither of you mentioned it. You only relished in the sparks the small touch ignited – waiting patiently for more.

As the final weeks of our graduate studies drew near, the campus was abuzz with anticipation and fervor. It was the climax of numerous years of hard work, late nights spent poring over books, and scholarly pursuits. Both you and Seokmin immersed ourselves in meticulously shaping our theses, balancing the demands of being teaching assistants with unrelenting commitment and a strong, unwavering sense of purpose. Somehow, you got there in the end. Your theses were approved, your opposition went smoothly, and you finally got to graduate together.

Amidst the excitement and wistfulness on the morning of graduation day, the campus bustled with energy. The sight of fellow graduates dressed in gowns and mortarboards filled the air with a sense of anticipation. In the midst of it all, you and Seokmin were inexplicably drawn to each other, the atmosphere around you filled with unspoken emotions.

As the festivities and goodbyes filled the air, Seokmin decided to take you to a secluded section of the campus garden. His face held a serious, yet affectionate, expression, creating an atmosphere of warmth that couldn't be missed. You couldn’t read through his gaze, but the silence between you was deafening. 

“I heard Professor Jeon gave you a reference for the new doctorate position here, congratulations,” you said to break the silence.

“Ah, thank you… you already got accepted, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Only because I was so pushy with my reference–” You downplayed your achievement but stopped yourself once you heard what you were saying. “I did.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

Confess to you.

“Why did you take me here, Seokmin?” you asked. “Isn’t the ceremony about to start?”

“Just a minute, I won’t be long… I want to say something,” he began, his voice carrying a clarity and certainty that resonated deep within you.

Seokmin, with the depth of intimacy that comes from sharing emotional journeys across galaxies, once more poured out his feelings, this time with an unshakable and unwavering conviction. “I love you, Star,” he declared, his eyes locking with yours, laying bare the depth of his emotions.

When he professed his feelings for you, you found yourself overcome with a rush of emotions. Your response was filled with a deep sense of appreciation and a newfound bravery that filled your heart. “I love you too,” you whispered.

He blinked at you, momentarily speechless, his carefully thought-out plans unraveling in the face of raw emotion. His stunned expression was almost comical, and you couldn't help but laugh softly. The sound of your laughter seemed to break the tension, and you reached up, your fingers gently cradling his face. His skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the slight roughness of his day-old stubble.

Seokmin's eyes fluttered closed, his long lashes brushing against his cheeks as he savored the delicate touch of your lips. His hands settled lightly on your waist, fingers barely pressing into the fabric of your clothes, as if afraid to break the spell. The kiss was brief, a mere whisper of the deep emotions swirling between you. When he pulled away, you could see a myriad of thoughts floating in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. Almost immediately, Seokmin groaned and put his palm against his forehead, realizing how awkward his words sounded. You couldn't help but laugh at his comment, the sound light and teasing.

“I don’t want the first thing I say after our kiss to be ‘thank you,’” he muttered, looking embarrassed.

He gave you a sheepish smile, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Don’t laugh at me…”

“Sorry–” you said, still giggling. Then, with a playful glint in your eye, you pulled him down to your face a second time. “That one doesn’t count, then.”

You kissed him again, a quick, soft peck, and then pulled back, looking at him expectantly. Seokmin's mind seemed to be spinning as he searched for something to say. Your kiss had left him so dizzy he could hardly tell up from down.

“You’re out of this world, Star,” he finally managed, his voice breathless and sincere.

You let out a groan, shaking your head at the cheesiness of his words. Seokmin couldn’t help but laugh, the sound warm and genuine. He then pulled you into a tight embrace, resting his chin on top of your head, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

The tender moment was interrupted by the intercom crackling to life once more, reminding the students to proceed to the grand hall for the ceremony. With a sigh, you both reluctantly pulled apart, the reality of the event bringing you back to the present.

The graduation ceremony was a blur of speeches, applause, and the bittersweet feeling of an era ending. As the sound of applause gradually faded away, you and Seokmin found yourselves standing side by side at the entrance of the university building. The excitement of the moment mingled with a deep sense of nostalgia, the weight of the years spent here settling over you both.

You looked at each other, the shared understanding that this was both an end and a beginning reflected in your eyes. With fingers intertwined, you walked hand in hand towards the grand doors, feeling a profound sense of achievement and anticipation for the future.

Outside, the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for you to step into it. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the campus, and as you walked together, you knew that this was just the start of a new journey. The path ahead was uncertain, but with Seokmin by your side, you felt ready to face anything. Together, you stepped out into the world, ready to embrace whatever came next.

feedback is always welcome!

He's wearing a cap, and the hood of his hoodie is pulled up, adding an extra layer of anonymity. His sunglasses lay readily on the table, a silent witness to his unease. You should have just gone to meet him at his place—even though you had been wanting to visit this new café with him for a while.

"Busy day?" you ask to break the tense silence, your voice barely above a whisper, blending into the background noise.

Yeosang puts his cup down, finally looking at you. His eyes are heavy with fatigue, dark circles shadowing his usually bright gaze. The weight of his exhaustion seems to press down on his shoulders, making him appear smaller, more fragile. If you were a little more confident, you would reach out to hold his hand—to comfort him.

"The usual," he murmurs, his voice weary and tinged with a hint of resignation. "Practice, meetings..."

He trails off, looking down at his mug, his shoulders slumping as if under an invisible burden. "Yeosang?"

"Hm?" He looks back up at you, and the sadness in his eyes makes your heart clench. The air between you feels heavy with unspoken words and impending heartache.

"What's wrong?"

He's breaking up with you. Someone found out, told the company, and now he's breaking up with you. The thought pierces through you, and you brace yourself for the worst.

"I'm..." Yeosang takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily as he gathers the courage to speak. "We got the tour dates and... I mean, I know we'd be gone for a long time—I just didn't want to think about how long I'd be gone."

"Oh." You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers intertwining nervously. The reality of his words sinks in, a cold wave washing over you. "That's... how long are you gone?"

"A couple months," he says, his voice barely audible, each word laden with regret. "Then we're back to Seoul for a week before going away for another couple months."

The silence is deafening. The café around you seems to quiet down, although you know it's only in your head. You want to be happy that he's at least not breaking up with you, but being away from each other for months isn't exactly better.

You look back up at him with a forced smile, trying to keep your composure. "You'll have fun," you say earnestly, though your voice wavers, betraying your true feelings. "And we can meet up the week that you're back."

"If they give me the time." Yeosang sighs and leans on the table, his fingers tapping anxiously against the wood. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? This isn't your fault." You put your hand on the table, free for him to touch if he wants to—but not so forward as to reach out yourself. "You have to work—you like your work. I don't want to ruin it for you."

"You're not ruining anything." Yeosang sits up straighter, stumbling over his words. He takes your hand, and your heart soars at the contact, a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty. "Please, don't think that... I'll just miss you."

Then call me every day—facetime, text, send pictures...

"We'll see each other in a couple months, I'm sure it'll be okay!" You squeeze his hand before letting go to drink the last of your coffee, the warmth now a distant memory.

You can't even get out the words "I'll miss you, too," the tears stuck in your throat are already threatening to come out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It takes a few days before you can see Yeosang again. By then, the tour has been announced, and you find yourself obsessively studying the tour dates next to your own calendar, scrutinizing every detail to see if you have enough days off to potentially travel to see him. Your mind races with possibilities, each one more uncertain than the last.

As the loading screen appears when you click to the next page, you catch your own reflection on your screen. Your eyes look tired, worry lines creasing your forehead, a testament to the sleepless nights you've spent fretting over the impending separation.

"This is stupid," you mutter to yourself, your voice filled with frustration, and click away from the tour dates before the screen could finish loading.

The what-ifs swirl around your mind, a relentless tide of doubt. What if he doesn't want to see you while he's on tour? The thought gnaws at you, and you'd rather stay at home than risk annoying him. Your eyes drift to your calendar, landing on the date marked at the very end of the month. Almost six months of dating. If you remember correctly, he'll be away when your anniversary date arrives—you try not to think about it, but the thought lingers like a shadow.

Your doorbell rings, jolting you from your reverie. You shoot up out of your chair, your heart pounding in anticipation. As you walk over to the front door, you fix your hair and readjust your clothes, trying to compose yourself. Your hand lands on the handle, and you take a deep breath before opening the door.

Yeosang stands there, a warm smile spreading across his face as soon as he sees you. He engulfs you in a hug before you can let him inside. You nuzzle your face closer into his shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent, a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him. He squeezes you extra hard, as if trying to convey all his feelings through that single embrace, before letting you go. That's when you notice it.

"You dyed your hair!" Your hands reach up to his head, threading your fingers through his hair.

"Do you like it?" he asks shyly, his eyes shining with hope.

It's a sweet, hazel brown color that complements his eyes perfectly. You can't help but smile as you run your fingers through his soft locks, feeling the silky texture against your skin.

"I think," you say, letting your hands fall to his shoulders, "that I need to update my lockscreen now."

"You like it that much?" He grins proudly, and you feel the butterflies letting loose in your stomach when he puts his hands on your hips.

You nod, your face turning serious. "It's adorable."

He smiles and leans in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth—a silent "thank you." Your cheeks flush, and you quickly pull away from him. Just as he's about to say something else, you get a message. With a quick apology, you pull your phone out of your pocket to check it. Seeing as it was nothing urgent, you go to put it back down, but Yeosang stops you. He points to your screen.

"You still like that one, right?" he asks, referring to your lockscreen.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and you look down at your phone again. It's a black-and-white photo of him, leaning against his hands and sending the camera a cheeky wink—his, then blond, hair messily falling over his forehead. It's your favorite.

"Of course," you say. "Why?"

"No reason..." He clears his throat and turns away from you, moving further into your apartment. "Did you order take-out, or should I?"

The two of you settle into your normal routine: sitting by the TV and eating take-out together. Now, the fried chicken boxes stand empty on your coffee table, and the two of you have slowly gathered up the courage to snuggle closer to each other. You like taking it slow with Yeosang—but it's kind of impossible to avoid. Neither of you wants to take the first step to initiate something, yet the unspoken longing hangs in the air between you.

You're content now, though. Your head rests comfortably on his chest, your legs thrown over his lap, and he's slowly playing with your hair. The movie is still playing, and from what you can tell, Yeosang is still paying attention to it. You, however, are transfixed with the way his heart drums against his chest. Slow and steady beats—thump, thump, thump...

You turn slightly, moving your head from his chest and placing your hand there instead. As you look up at him, you feel his heartbeat quicken under your touch.

"Are you staying the night?" you ask, your voice soft and hopeful.

"I have an early schedule tomorrow," he mutters and, when he sees your face fall, quickly adds, "But I can meet up with you again tomorrow night."

"Aren't you leaving the morning after that?"

"I leave in the afternoon, so there's no rush," he says, his voice soothing. "You can come over and spend the night, if you want to."

His heartbeat beats even faster, and you smile. "That sounds nice."

With much reluctance, the two of you move from the couch so that Yeosang can get ready to go home. While Yeosang is in the bathroom, you decide to take his bag and carry it to the hallway. However, clumsy as you are, you manage to knock it over. Out of the bag falls a black box, tied together with a red ribbon. You pick it up, noticing the piece of paper tucked under the ribbon. It's too big to be a ring box, so you allow yourself to calm down ever so slightly. Maybe it's just a gift he got from someone.

But when Yeosang comes back, his expression tells you something else. His eyes widen in horror as he sees you holding the small jewelry box. With quick steps, he's beside you and takes the box from your hands.

"You weren't supposed to see that yet..." he mutters, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

"It's for me?" you question, your smile widening.

Yeosang thinks you look like a puppy who's heard the word "treat," and he can't help but smile back. His shoulders relax, and he hands you the box back.

"I went to grab it today, that's why I was a little late." You let your fingers glide over the soft material of the ribbon. "I was going to give it to you before I left for the tour."

"What is it?" You go to undo the ribbon, but he quickly stops you.

"Don't open it yet." His cheeks are tinted pink, and he refuses to look you in the eye. "Open it after I've left."

"Not even the note?" you ask.

"Not even the note." He lets out a nervous chuckle. "It's meant to be for when I'm gone."

You narrow your eyes at him as if you could figure out what's in the box by looking at him. "Alright... I will."

"Thank you," he murmurs and presses a kiss to your cheek. "I really have to go."

Yeosang grabs his bag, and you're left standing in your living room with a box in one hand and holding your cheek where he had kissed you with the other.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You try so hard to distract yourself from the box, but it's nearly impossible. Working from home has its perks, but with the box sitting innocuously on your bedside table, your curiosity keeps getting the better of you. Each time you pass it, your eyes inevitably wander to the neatly wrapped present, the ribbon’s delicate bow taunting you with its mystery.

It’s just past one in the afternoon when you finally succumb to temptation. You tell yourself it’s only a quick peek at the note inside. But as soon as you loosen the ribbon, it seems only natural to lift the lid and see what lies within. After all, how could you resist?

The note is the first thing you see, its edges crisp and its handwriting perfectly elegant. “Don’t forget about me,” it reads. The simple message is enigmatic, and you squint at it, flipping it over to check for any hidden clues or additional writing. Finding nothing more, you shrug and turn your attention to the contents of the box.

Nestled on a plush red cushion is a silver necklace, its chain glinting in the light. At the center of the chain is a heart-shaped locket. Your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the necklace out of the box. You fumble with the clasp, finally managing to open the locket. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you see the photo inside—it’s a miniature version of the same picture that had been your lock screen until recently. You had just changed it to a new picture of Yeosang with his updated hair color.

The sight of the tiny image of your boyfriend, his mischievous wink captured perfectly, makes a smile spread across your face. The locket holds an intimacy and warmth that makes your heart flutter.

Later that evening, you arrive at Yeosang's dorm, proudly wearing the necklace. As you approach the door, Yunho greets you with a friendly smile and opens it wide.

“Yeosang, they’re here!” Yunho calls out, then turns back to you with a more subdued tone. “I’m heading out for drinks with some friends. You two have the place to yourselves tonight.” He gives you a playful wink and a charming “goodbye” before practically sprinting towards the elevator.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Yeosang appears, his presence instantly drawing your attention. He’s clad in the cozy hoodie you got him for his birthday, and his smile is a mix of bright excitement and shyness.

“Hi, baby,” he greets warmly, his arms extending for a hug. But before you can fully embrace him, his eyes are drawn to the necklace hanging around your neck. His gaze fixes on the locket, and you feel your fingers instinctively reach up to fidget with it, your cheeks flushing with a shy smile.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

Yeosang’s face turns a deep shade of red as he realizes you’ve read his note. Embarrassment sweeps over him, and he quickly covers his face with the sleeves of his hoodie. You gently try to pry his hands away, your heart aching at his reaction.

“It was sweet!” you insist, though your voice is laced with giggles. “I really liked it!”

Despite your reassurances, Yeosang’s embarrassment is evident. He finally removes his hands from his face, his ears still flushed with a soft pink hue. “You said you wouldn’t,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a pout.

“I don’t understand why you wanted me to wait…” you reply softly, a hint of confusion in your tone. “Did I upset you?”

Yeosang shakes his head, taking a deep breath to compose himself. “I wasn’t expecting you to open it right away. I wanted you to do it later because... I thought it might come off as a bit cheesy. You don’t usually initiate romantic gestures, so I was worried you’d find it silly.”

His words come with a pout that is both endearing and heartbreaking. It dawns on you that he’s been holding back, concerned about how you might perceive his gesture. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace, and for the first time in a while, you lean in and kiss him first. His hands settle on your lower back, drawing you closer.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you pull away. “I didn’t know I came off as cold.”

“Not cold—just... indifferent, maybe?” His fingers nervously toy with the hem of your shirt. “I wanted you to tell me you’d miss me before I left.”

Your heart sinks at his confession. “I will miss you,” you admit. “I didn’t say it out loud because I thought it might seem clingy.”

“I want you to be clingy,” Yeosang confesses softly, his voice full of longing. “I want you to hold on a little longer when we hug goodbye. I want you to reach for my hand. I want you to kiss me whenever you feel like it, without holding back. It’s okay to be clingy, because I want you to know just how much I love you.”

You’re breathless, overwhelmed by his heartfelt confession.

“And I do love you,” he adds, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “Very much.”

“I love you, too.” The words spill out before you have a chance to think them through.

“Good,” he murmurs, his eyes lighting up with relief and happiness. “Can we watch a movie now? I’ve set everything up in the other room.”

“… Can we cuddle?” you ask timidly, your heart full.

“Of course,” Yeosang replies, his smile beaming with pride.

“Then, yes,” you say, your smile reflecting his joy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day before your six-month anniversary with Yeosang dawns bright and full of anticipation. You navigate through the bustling corridors of LAX, your heart racing with excitement. The airport’s usual hum seems to fade as you focus on the surprise you’ve meticulously planned for him, with a little help from his fellow Ateez members.

A driver is waiting for you by the pick-up area, holding a sign with your name in bold letters. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, you’re whisked away in a sleek black car, the cityscape of Los Angeles blurring past the window. The drive feels endless, but your eagerness propels you forward.

The car eventually pulls up to the stadium, its exterior imposing and grand. Inside, the cavernous space is empty, save for the few staff members setting up for the evening's soundcheck. The massive seats are all vacant, and you envision them soon to be filled with eager fans in their designer outfits, cheering for their idols.

You’re escorted by the manager to the backstage area, which is located just beside the edge of the stage. With your VIP pass hanging proudly around your neck and the heart locket resting gently against your chest, you feel a rush of exhilaration. The jet lag that usually weighs heavily on travelers seems to evaporate, replaced by the electric buzz of excitement that keeps your nerves on edge.

As the members of Ateez finish their song, the room is filled with the hum of voices and the shuffling of feet. One of the staff members approaches them, instructing them to take a break. The members nod and make their way to the edge of the stage, their casual attire a stark contrast to the glamorous outfits they’ll don for the concert. Each of them flashes you a grin as they pass, their excitement visible.

You’ve managed to keep this surprise under wraps flawlessly. You even told Yeosang to call you on your anniversary so you could celebrate virtually, ensuring he had no inkling of what was in store. As you watch him approach, you can see the moment he realizes what’s happening.

“Y-You—” He halts abruptly, his eyes widening in disbelief. The murmur of amusement from the staff behind you only adds to the mounting anticipation. “What are you doing here?”

Without another word, Yeosang dashes towards you, his arms outstretched. He sweeps you into a tight embrace, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You squeal in surprise, your arms wrapping around his neck as he holds you securely. His warmth is intoxicating, and you plant a few tender kisses on his neck, savoring the closeness.

“Happy early anniversary,” you whisper into his ear, your voice tinged with affection. He clutches you even tighter, his embrace conveying all the love and gratitude he feels.

When he finally sets you down, he pulls back just enough to look at you with a mixture of wonder and joy. “I was so looking forward to our call tomorrow... I don’t even know what to say—this is so much better.”

He draws you in for another hug, and you laugh softly, feeling a sense of pure contentment. “I wanted to surprise you,” you reply, your heart swelling with happiness.

“You definitely did,” Yeosang murmurs, trying to loosen his hold.

“Can you hug me a little longer?” you ask, your voice soft and pleading.

You feel his smile against your neck as he agrees. “Of course.”

From your vantage point backstage, you watch the performance with a beaming smile, captivated by the sight of your boyfriend in his element. The highlight of the evening is when he dashes off the stage and heads straight toward you, sweat glistening on his forehead but his smile undiminished. You embrace him once more, the warmth of his body against yours a comforting contrast to the cool air of the stadium.

After the concert, the excitement of the evening lingers in the air as you and Yeosang make your way to the hotel. The lobby of the hotel is adorned with elegant decor—chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow and plush seating areas inviting relaxation. You had reserved a separate room for yourself, but Yeosang’s insistence that you stay with him overrides your plans. His hand remains firmly clasped around yours, his touch reassuring and steadfast as he navigates the hotel's polished marble floors and labyrinthine corridors.

The corridor leading to his room is softly lit, with dim sconces casting gentle shadows on the walls. The faint sound of distant laughter and the muted hum of the air conditioning provide a comforting backdrop as you follow Yeosang. His presence is a steady anchor amidst the whirlwind of the night’s events, and his warmth seeps through the touch of his hand wrapped around yours.

When you reach Yeosang’s room, the door swings open to reveal a cozy, dimly lit space. The soft glow of bedside lamps and the faint scent of lavender emanating from the pillows create an inviting atmosphere. Yeosang, weary but content, quickly heads to the bed, collapsing onto it with a deep sigh of relief. The luxurious linens and fluffy pillows offer a stark contrast to the hectic energy of the concert.

As he settles into the bed, you move with deliberate care, preparing for a quiet night. You gently help him out of his clothes, your fingers brushing against his skin as you assist him into comfortable sleepwear. The intimacy of the moment is amplified by the softness of the sheets and the calming ambiance of the room.

You then pull the covers up over him, smoothing them with tender care. You brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your touch light and affectionate. His eyes are already fluttering shut, exhaustion etched into his features. You curl up beside him, the warmth of his body providing a soothing contrast to the coolness of the room. Even as he drifts off, he instinctively turns towards you, his arms reaching out to hold you close, seeking the comfort of your presence.

In the stillness of the night, you drift into a restful sleep, cradled by the sound of his steady breathing. The tranquility of the room envelops you both, a sanctuary from the whirlwind of the concert.

The next morning, you awaken to the gentle pressure of Yeosang’s arms wrapped tightly around you. His embrace is firm and secure, a protective cocoon that shields you from the world. You snuggle closer, the soft fabric of his t-shirt brushing against your cheek. Your fingers glide over the fabric, tracing soothing patterns as you bask in the comfort of his embrace.

“Good morning,” Yeosang’s voice comes out as a muffled murmur against the top of your head, warm and filled with sleepiness. The gentle rumble of his voice is like a comforting lullaby, grounding you in the moment.

“Good morning,” you respond, your voice soft and wrapped in contentment. “I slept so well... and you?”

“The best sleep I’ve had in months,” he confesses, his voice tender and heartfelt. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, a silent promise of his affection.

“Happy anniversary,” you whisper back, your voice imbued with love and sincerity. In the serene morning light, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fades away.

feedback is always welcomed!

Every row of seats you pass disappoints you. Whenever you think there’s an empty spot for you, there’s either a child in the seat or too much luggage tucked away - even if they were trying to be helpful by playing Tetris with their bags, they just had too many bags. As you watch the people in front of you take what seems to be the only empty seats on the train, you start losing hope. You accept that you would probably have to find a corner for you and your bag to stand in. You only have your backpack and a suitcase with a month’s worth of clothes and other necessities, so squeezing against a wall wouldn’t be impossible. However, it wasn’t how you imagined spending the first few hours of your time in Japan. Despite having flown to Osaka partly for the scenic route the bullet train would take you on, you would have to settle for staring at the floor so as not to meet other people’s eyes. Maybe it would have been better to fly directly to Tokyo, even if you had to decline the surprisingly low price of your plane ticket to Osaka.

The cheap flight settled it for you. You were set on flying to Osaka and taking the over two-hour train ride from the Shin-Osaka station to Tokyo station. Now you are less sure about your decision, but a few weeks ago it seemed foolproof. After sleeping on your friend’s couch for nearly a month, anything else seems like a dream. Going to Tokyo is one of your dreams, it always has been, but now it felt like it had been fate. The night you had seen the short-term rental on the outskirts of the big city, it felt like the universe was paying you back for all the hurt it had caused. You needed a fresh start - or rather, a chance to not be you for a while. Ever since your ex broke up with you, you’ve been down on yourself and this trip would change that. You are certain.

You remember sitting on your friend’s couch that night. She was on the floor, drunkenly muttering to herself while you were scrolling on your computer. Seeing as you weren’t sober either, you can’t remember exactly why you were on your computer. It might have been an attempt to find a movie to watch, but your endless scrolling brought you to a website with cheap rentals in Tokyo. One in particular caught your eye; it was a short-term lease for the entire month of June, near a train station, and it wouldn’t completely break your bank. Maybe it was because it was up for rent in the middle of the rainy season, but you believed the cheap prices had to be a sign for you to go. So, you started planning your trip then and there.

Ever since then, you have been looking forward to it. Now that you are here, it was a little chilly and you were desperately tired - but a sense of calm had settled in your chest. Your limbs are light, and nothing holds your shoulders in an embarrassed slouch. Despite the train catastrophe, the small, yet bright, light in the cavern between your ribs keeps burning. As you keep walking, your consciousness stays in your head - thinking back to when you had just booked the trip. You’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice a man calling out for you, not until he grabs your arm.

"There’s a seat for you here," he says.

The very first thing you notice about this stranger is his smile. It’s the kind of smile that meets the eyes - he isn’t just being polite, he is sincerely offering you the seat beside you. When you look past him, you can see the small line he is stalling. You quickly thank him and move to the side to let others pass. His hand lets go of your arm, and he sits back down. The handprint on your arm is giving off a warm glow, that you’re sure only you can see. Once the walkway is open, you try to put your suitcase on the overhead rack. The stranger is quick on his feet again and helps you put your bag up. When the two of you finally push your heavy bag onto the rack, you thank him again before sitting down. It isn’t a window seat, but it’s better than standing in a corner.

"Where are you headed?" the stranger asks.

"Tokyo," you answer as you put your backpack under your seat.

"Oh! Me too!" He flashes his smile again, and you feel like melting.

He’s handsome, the kind of boy-next-door you’d bring home to your parents, and the air around him is wholesome. Everything about him is delicately intentional, from the put-together outfit to his silver jewelry. This stranger is “too good to be true” personified. 

"Do you have any plans in Tokyo?" he asks, bringing you out of your bewitched state.

"Not exactly," you admit. "I mean, I looked up a few spots that I’d like to visit… but nothing’s set in stone yet."

You’ve never pictured yourself as a person who casually talks to strangers, and yet here you are. There’s something easy about talking to him as if there isn’t a judgmental bone in his body. Despite the sad amount of things you’ve planned, Seungkwan still looks at you like he’s fully invested in your journey.

“I’ve looked up a few cafés,” he says, “If you want some recommendations, I can give you my list.”

As if he couldn’t get any more endearing, your next-seat neighbor pulls out a small, navy blue notebook. It’s leather-bound and has a small latch that keeps it shut with a magnet. The stranger opens it up and flips to a page at the beginning of the book. There, in neat handwriting, is a written list of café names - written in Korean with a carefully written translation in Japanese beside it. You look over the names and the stars he’s put beside them, indicating the ratings they have been given.

“Your handwriting is very nice…” you comment as your fingers gently graze the paper. “Do you mind if I take a picture? I haven’t planned on any café stops yet.”

“Go ahead.” He nods with another warm smile.

After taking a picture, you put your phone back in your bag and thank the stranger for the recommendation. The stranger nods and packs his notebook back in his bag. Your eyes linger on him just for a moment, the lighting almost making him look ethereal. A small bump on the rail makes you snap out of it, and you go to look for your headphones in your backpack - but you’re left with nothing. With a sigh, you lean back in your seat at the realization that you left your headphones in your luggage to leave space in your backpack.

“You okay?” The man beside you gains your attention yet again.

“I put my headphones in my luggage after I got off the plane,” you say with a pained smile.

“Oh, I always hate it when I do that,” he says with genuine sympathy - it surprises you how a stranger can feel for you this way. “I could lend you one of my earbuds if you don’t mind listening to my playlist.”

If it had been any other stranger, you might have said no. However, the man beside you intrigues you to no end - so you end up accepting his offer. You put in the earbud and smile as you hear a familiar tune. You can’t seem to place it, but the melody brings back memories that you had since long forgotten - your school days, the times when you had no worries and could simply exist as a kid. As your muscles relax, you let out a content sigh - was it too good to be true, or were you so lucky to have sat next to such a wonderful man? It doesn’t take long for the adrenaline of the busy day you’ve had to wear off, and for you to drift off to sleep. 

When you wake up, your body aches to move - as if you had sat in the same position for your feet to root into the floor and for your skin to turn into bark. To make sure your limbs haven’t turned into twigs and leaves, you stretch out the best you can. In the process, you knock out the earbud in your ear and startle the man beside you.

“Oh, I’m sorry- did I wake you?” you whisper to him.

“It’s alright, I had only barely fallen asleep,” he assures you with a lopsided smile. “You must have been tired, though.”

“How long was I out?”

“We have ten minutes left.” He takes out his earbud, puts the wires in his lap, and turns off his playlist. “You must’ve been tired, I haven’t seen anyone sleep through a baby crying like you were.”

“I was tired,” you admit with a chuckle. “I didn’t snore, did I?”

You took up your bottle of water from your bag, your throat must have gotten dry during your sleep and you desperately needed water. 

“Oh, no. Not at all, actually. I thought you were dead for a good minute.”

Your seat neighbor’s comment made you snort, successfully making you choke on the water in the process. As you cough, the man beside you tries to find tissues for you in a panicked manner. He grumbles as he looks, but all you hear is something about his backpack being a mess. Eventually, he gives up and reaches for a side pocket. There he pulls out a white handkerchief with some blue embroidery on it. He hands it to you, and you wipe the water that had spilled all over yourself.

“Thank you,” you croak out.

“Here.” He motions to take the bottle from you.

You give it to him, and he carefully puts on the cap for you before handing it back to you.

“I’m sorry about your handkerchief,” you say.

“Don’t worry about it.” He motions with his hand as if to nonverbally say ‘whatever’. 

“I’ll wash it and give it back to you,” you promise.

To that, he turns his head to you with a glimmer in his eyes and a small shy on his lips. You didn’t realize that you had implied that you should meet up again, but as you look at him you discern that you don’t mind.

“I’d like that.”

“The train is now approaching Tokyo Central Station.”

Your seat neighbor helps you down with your luggage and the two of you make your way off the train. The carriage itself is packed, but there are only more people outside of it. You walk through them the best you can, repeatedly excusing yourself as you push yourself toward the escalators. Only when you get up the escalator, do you realize that you lost your seat-neighbor. Moreover, you realize that you don’t have his name or number.

“Shit,” you mumble as you look around.

There is no way you’ll find him, you think as you approach a taxi. If you’re lucky, you might bump into him at one of the cafés he had written down - but the chances are slim. With a heavy feeling in your chest, you manage to flag down a taxi and get in.

The apartment you rented for the month is on the outskirts of Tokyo, in a somewhat quiet area with access to public transport. It is perfect for the days you’ll want to spend inside - though you don’t know how many days that’ll be. The building’s outside is almost the same as you saw in the picture online, even though the images were dated. The walls are beige and, except for a few areas which reveal the building’s age, are unscathed. It is a three-story, rather small building, with a black roof and relatively large square windows. The owner, who you met up with outside, gives you a key and says that your apartment is on the top floor. Despite giving you directions to your temporary home, he still guides you to your front door. 

The stairs are on the outside of the building, and the owner carries your luggage up them for you. At first, you hesitate, worrying that his old age wouldn’t allow him to carry something so heavy up two flights of stairs. However, there seems to be something magical about this old man - as he carries up your bag without a single huff or puff. 

“This is your apartment,” he says as he sets down your bag outside the door. “If you go further up the stairs, you get to the roof where the guests usually hang up their clothes. I have my area downstairs, so you’ll have your privacy- except for the other guests, of course. But it’s just the two of you, so you’ll have plenty of space.”

“You have another guest?” you ask as you go to unlock the door.

“In the apartment under you,” he explains. “He got here just minutes before you. Nice, young man. I’m sure you can make arrangements for the clotheslines. Feel free to come knock at my door if there are any issues with the shower - I’ve had complaints before, but it’s usually easy to fix.”

“Alright, thank you.” You smile at him, nodding your head before opening the door to your new home.

On the other side of the wooden door, is a small yet cozy room. It’s fully furnished, housing a bed, a coffee table with chairs, and a kitchenette all in this first room. It’s small, you knew it would be. The space is just enough for you and your small amount of luggage. You put your bag down beside the bed to go exploring, quickly finding the bathroom - also small but it held all of the essentials, as well as a small window right above the shower to let the natural light shine on the tiled walls. After finding the door hiding the washing machine, you looked through the entire apartment.

After unpacking and making yourself at home, you rummage through your backpack to find the small handkerchief. Now that you have a closer look at it, the blue embroidery on one of the corners is a profile of Snoopy the Dog. You smile to yourself, gently running your thumb over the carefully stitched pattern. It felt like an intimate secret to hold it in your hands, a look into someone else’s life - someone whose name you don’t know, and probably never will. As your fingers grace the fabric, you can feel that it’s still a little damp from when you used it to dry yourself off. You sigh, a feeling of regret striking you as you realize that this handkerchief might never find its way back home. But what if it does? Are you going to hand it to him with the stain of your water and spit? Absolutely not. With newfound determination, you get up and walk out of your apartment - walking up the stairs to find a washboard. 

The rooftop looks as you had imagined: a smaller area for the clotheslines, next to the slanted, black roof - there is a small door on the short wall holding up the roof, no doubt leading to the attic. The door is not the only thing catching your attention, as a man is sitting on the small table on the roof.

“Oh, hello,” you say to not scare him with your sudden presence.

The man stands up and turns around, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s the man from the train. Your steps halt, and words linger on the tip of your tongue but nothing comes out.

“You,” he says with wide eyes. 

“Me,” you answer, you fidget with the handkerchief. “I was just thinking about you- I mean, I found this and I thought I should wash it in case I saw you again.”

“You’re going to hand wash it?” He walks toward you and you force your feet into the ground to not back away. “I can throw it in with my laundry later.”

He holds out his hand to you and you put the handkerchief in his hands. Now that you have nothing to do on the rooftop, you know that you should say your goodbyes and leave - but you can’t bring yourself to do so. 

“I didn’t mean to run away from you at the station,” you say, “I was just trying to find my way out, and I guess we got separated.”

“I get it.” He nodded. “I got stuck in a crowd, and then it hit me that I never caught your name… it’s hard to call out for someone when you don’t know their name.”

Your jaw went slack and your eyes widened - you didn’t know his name. The two of you looked at each other for a beat, before breaking out into laughter. The tension started dissipating as you looked back at him with a big smile. It was a strange situation, but neither of you seemed to mind.

“Y/L/N Y/N,” you tell him. 

“I’m Boo Seungkwan,” he replies and stretches out his hand for you to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

You take his hand and shake it - his hand is warm and comforting, like a blanket on a chilly summer evening. What brought the two of you together, you didn’t know - but you’re thankful that it did. After shaking his hand you bid him an awkward goodbye, and start walking down the stairs.

“Do you have plans tonight?” His question makes you turn around.

“Plans? No, I was just going to get some groceries and stay in,” you admit.

“Well, if you want to come with me, I was thinking of going to a Jazz café.” His voice stays strong, but his eyes show his nerves as they look everywhere but at you.

“That sounds nice.” You smile at him. “When are you planning on going?”

An hour or so later, both you and Seungkwan are out in Tokyo. Seungkwan is looking for directions on his phone, guiding you through the city. Neither of you speak much, the tension from before having returned. It’s only when you arrive at the café that Seungkwan starts speaking to you again. 

“Do you want to sit in a booth?” he asks as the two of you walk into the cozy room.

It’s a dark room, with a jazz band playing in one of the corners, and people sitting at every other table. It isn’t packed by any means, but it’s still bubbling with energy. You agree to a booth seat, and the two of you find your way over to a free one. After ordering your drinks, the two of you are left to yourselves again. The tension’s there, but now it’s inviting and almost pulling you into a conversation. Seungkwan’s looking around the bar, and doesn’t notice your staring - so, you happily stare for a while. His fingers were drumming anxiously against the table, something you used to find annoying but now it’s nothing but endearing. 

“How did you find this place?” you ask, gaining his attention again.

“I’ve been wanting to go to Tokyo for a while,” Seungkwan explains, “So I did a lot of planning in advance to make sure I could see as much of it as possible.”

You nod while silently condemning yourself for not doing the same. In truth, you had come to Tokyo on a whim - and even though you’ve been wanting to visit for a while, you didn’t spend nearly as much time as you maybe should have when researching. The drinks arrive, and the two of you thank the waitress.

“Why did you decide to go to Tokyo?” he asks once the waitress left.

A vivid memory of loud arguments and slamming doors hit you as his question reached your ears. You look down at your drink, the ice in it slowly melting and blending with the cocktail, taking a moment to compose yourself before looking back at Seungkwan with a smile.

“I needed a fresh start,” you admit. “I’ve been sleeping at my friend’s place for some time, and I needed something to get me back out in the world again.”

“So, your first thought was Tokyo?”

“Well, it’s been a dream of mine too,” you add with a flick of your hand as if it isn’t particularly important. “I saw the opportunity and took it.”

It’s embarrassing, how casual your reason is compared to his - or maybe it’s just how you told it. Seungkwan, however, looks at you as if he’s heard the most interesting thing in his life. His eyes are bright and present, and he wears a small smile. The bad memories his question brought back are now gone.

“I wish I could be that spontaneous,” he says and takes a sip of his drink - his tone is laid-back but his eyes show his nerves. 

“Why can’t you?” you question.

Seungkwan pauses and looks out over the bar for a moment. You can tell that he’s earnestly considering your question - and you half-expect him to jump up on the table and start singing, as if in some kind of musical about finding oneself. He doesn’t, of course, but you snicker at the thought and it gains you Seungkwan’s attention back.

“Well, I really don’t know,” he stumbles over his words, “It’s just who I am. I plan ahead.”

“Do you have a lot of plans for this trip?” you ask, and you watch Seungkwan relax at the change of topic.

“A few,” he admits. “Most of it is just walking around and sightseeing.”

“Well, if you want,” you say, “you can spend a few days being spontaneous with me.”

The piano player plays a small solo, their fingers violently speeding across the keys to produce a sound that is somehow both coherent and incomprehensible. Seungkwan stares at you, his eyes wide with anticipation - you could practically hear him thinking: “What will this lead to? Should I say yes? Is this a good idea?” He opens his mouth, just as the saxophone player joins in on the riff. The two of you laugh as you wait for them to finish, your shoulders finally relax fully, and the annoying bubbling feeling in your stomach has subsided.

“Yeah, let’s go out together sometime,” Seungkwan answers after the players have calmed down. “We live next to each other, anyway, so it would only be awkward if we don’t.”

“Great.” You raise your glass in his direction. “To being spontaneous.”

“To being spontaneous,” he repeats as he clinks his glass with yours.

You wake up the next morning to the sun blaring in through the thin blinds - they’re nothing like the black-out curtains in your friend's apartment, and you make a mental note to get some for your future place in Seoul. With vigor, you rip the covers off of you and put your feet on the cold hardwood floor. You make a second mental note to make sure to get a good rug for your future bedroom, while you tip-toe over to your belongings in the corner of the room. In your unpacked suitcase, you find a pair of knitted socks - brought just in case - and put them on. Once your feet aren't being tortured by the chilly floor, you go to the bathroom and freshen up. A sudden urge to sing and dance struck you, as you realized you had no roommate you could possibly bother with your noise - a new sense of freedom echoed in your ribcage, like a warrior’s cry before a fierce battle.

However, your newfound happiness dulls when you go into the kitchen and find no food in the fridge. You completely forgot to get groceries. A sigh escapes your lips as you trudge around the room to find an idea. Passing by the window, you catch a glimpse of your new neighbor coming home. Seungkwan looked like he had just been out on a jog. You look over at the clock and see that it’s only nine-thirty. The shock and envy of his good life habits leave you once you come up with an idea.

You get out of your apartment quickly, only throwing on a cardigan over your tank top and pajama pants before leaving, and you sprint downstairs to knock on Seungkwan’s door. He opens the door rather quickly.

“Good morning,” you pipe up.

“Morning,” he answers with an incredulous smile. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah…” You take a deep breath as if you’re about to tell him something very serious. “Do you have breakfast?”

“I think you’ve confused me with a hotel,” he quips.

“I know, I’m sorry- I just didn’t have time to get groceries yesterday and now I have no breakfast,” you explain. “I don’t mean to bother you- I’ll even pay for whatever I can borrow-”

“I don’t have anything either,” he admits and, when he sees your sad expression, adds, “You can come with me to the supermarket if you’d like. I spotted one on my run, and it looked like they were about to open. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll walk with you!”

As you and Seungkwan stroll to the grocery store, you take in the charming surroundings of our neighborhood. The store is just a few blocks away, and it's a pleasant walk that only takes a couple of minutes. It’s a small and cozy neighborhood store, known for carrying only the absolute necessities. Seungkwan carries a grocery basket on his arm, and you start putting in any breakfast items that catch my eye. We decide to just grab breakfast items for now and come back for other groceries when you're not feeling so hungry.

As the sun rises, the small store is alive with the chatter of early-morning shoppers, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Navigating the narrow aisles with Seungkwan by your side feels cozy and intimate like you're on a special adventure together. The shelves are packed with an array of tempting items, each one seemingly more delicious than the last. Your stomach grumbles with hunger, but you can't help but be captivated by the variety of products on display. Finally, you come across a container of plump, juicy strawberries. Despite their hefty price, you and Seungkwan decide to share them, exchanging a meaningful, wordless glance that solidifies your unspoken pact.

Back at your apartment, you and your new friend eagerly started the delightful task of preparing a leisurely breakfast in the inviting embrace of your kitchen. With its panoramic view, your kitchen became the heart of your morning adventure. The two of you decided on your place instead of Seungkwan’s seeing as the view from your kitchen window was better. The gentle, tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, infusing the space with a sense of comfort and anticipation for the wonderful meal ahead. Before long, you both find yourselves on the rooftop, savoring the delicious meal you've meticulously put together. The early morning light casts a spellbinding glow over Tokyo, offering a breathtaking view. As you indulge in your breakfast, the easy-flowing conversation is punctuated by laughter.

After finishing his breakfast, Seungkwan reclines in his chair, a contemplative expression adorning his face. It's as if he's carefully considering something significant, and a sense of eager anticipation starts to build within you. At last, he turns to you, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.

“Hey, I was thinking,” he begins, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice. “Would you like to go to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden with me tomorrow? It's one of the places on my list that I’m really looking forward to, and I think you’d enjoy it too.”

You feel a flutter in your chest as he asks you to join him, and you have to remind yourself that despite his charming appearance, he is still a stranger. Nevertheless, the thought of sharing more moments with Seungkwan in such a breathtaking location is incredibly tempting. A smile spreads across your face as a wave of contentment washes over you.

“I’d love to,” you reply eagerly. “I've heard it’s amazing, and I'd be thrilled to go with you.”

As Seungkwan flashes his radiant smile, it illuminates his face, causing a delightful flutter in your heart.

“Great! We can pack a picnic and make a day of it,” he suggests. “I'll buy some snacks and drinks after my run tomorrow, and we can enjoy the gardens together.”

As the morning progresses, you immerse yourselves in detailed planning for your upcoming outing. You carefully deliberate on what items to bring along and excitedly map out which areas of the garden we hope to explore. The air is tinged with palpable anticipation, and with every passing moment, you find yourself forming an even stronger bond with Seungkwan. As the day of your outing approaches, you find yourself thinking about Seungkwan more and more. There's something about him that draws you in, making you want to know more about him and share more of yourself in return. The prospect of spending a day together in such a beautiful place feels almost magical.

The following morning, you rise with the sun, your heart brimming with excitement. And when Seungkwan stands at your doorstep, he holds a woven basket overflowing with a delectable variety of snacks and a steaming thermos of coffee. A wide, infectious grin spreads across his face, and you can't help but reciprocate, feeling an exhilarating surge of anticipation.

"Ready to go?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Absolutely," you reply, following him out the door.

While you make your way to Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, the air is filled with lighthearted conversation and laughter, adding to the sense of anticipation. Upon arrival, the breathtaking sight of the expansive gardens captivates your attention. The lush greenery, vibrant flowers, and tranquil ponds combine to create a serene atmosphere, transporting us to a world far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Strolling through the meticulously designed gardens, you can't help but lose track of time. With every step, you’re greeted by a breathtaking array of colors and scents that captivate my senses. Seungkwan, who’s done his diligent research on the park, eagerly points out various points of interest he's researched, sharing intriguing stories and fascinating details about the diverse plants and landscapes. His genuine love for the garden is palpable, and you’re fully engrossed by the beauty of my surroundings and the delightful company of Seungkwan.

Once the sun climbs to its highest point in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the surroundings, you and Seungkwan spot a serene area shaded by a magnificent cherry blossom tree. You carefully lay out the soft picnic blanket that Seungkwan had found in his apartment and both settle down on it. The spread of delectable food on the blanket invites you to indulge in a delightful meal, further enhancing the serene atmosphere. Engrossed in each other's company, your conversation effortlessly drifts from light-hearted and cheerful topics to heartfelt and intimate stories. Through this easy exchange, you come to truly appreciate Seungkwan's endearing charm, quick wit, and remarkable kindness, making this shared moment even more special.

Time seems to stand still as you talk and laugh together, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. You feel a sense of contentment that you haven't felt in a long time, and you realize that this day with Seungkwan is something truly special.

As the afternoon turns into evening, you reluctantly pack up your picnic and make your way back to the entrance of the garden. The walk back is filled with a comfortable silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, savoring the memories of the day.

When you’re just a few blocks away from the apartment, Seungkwan turns to you with a warm smile. 

"I had a great time today," he says softly. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Me too," you reply, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of the day ending. "Thank you for inviting me."

You don’t want to go to bed just yet, you want to stay with him for just a little longer. A thought strikes you as you pass the small convenience store. You stop Seungkwan by pulling on his sleeve, and making him look over at the store. He seems to follow your train of thought, as he turns to you with a smile.

“Do you want to grab a couple of bottles of beer and head to the rooftop?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes. "The view of the city lights from up there is amazing, it’d be a shame if we didn’t make use of it."

“You’re reading my mind,” you reply.

You both walk into the store, walking directly over to the aisle with beer. Enticed by the colorful and artistic labels, you and Seungkwan carefully inspect each bottle, trying to decipher their unique flavors and styles. Because of your lack of knowledge about Japanese beer, you make your selections based solely on the eye-catching labels - a choice that evokes a playful chuckle from Seungkwan, who nonetheless assures you that he isn't one to judge. With your chosen bottles in hand, you pay and eagerly make your way back to the apartment, your excitement growing with every light and eager step.

The rooftop is quiet, a perfect contrast to the bustling center of the city that you can spot from your position. You find a cozy spot to sit, the cityscape sprawling out before you in a dazzling array of lights. Seungkwan sits down right next to you. The air is cool and crisp, and you feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. You sit together, sipping your beers, and the conversation begins to flow more deeply. You share stories about your past, your dreams, and the things that matter most to you. Seungkwan opens up about his life, his struggles, and his hopes for the future. You find yourself doing the same, feeling a sense of trust and connection that surprises you. Seungkwan sits quietly as you open up about your past relationship, sharing the details of how it ended and how it was all your fault. He attentively watches you, unwavering in his focus as you pour your heart out. As you finish your beer, he offers you another can, and you express your gratitude. The beer loosens your tongue and you divulge more and more secrets from your past.

“How can it be your fault?” he asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that…” He pauses, adjusting himself on his seat on the small table. “Sure, you didn’t put in the effort you should have at the end - if what you said was true, of course - but couldn’t he do the same? Why is it all because of you?”

His words leave you speechless, and you find yourself sitting in stunned silence for a while. You had always thought that it was all your fault - maybe because you had never told anyone the details before, let alone said them out loud. 

“I don’t mean to overstep, sorry,” Seungkwan adds.

“You’re not.” You straighten out your back and look at him with a newfound confidence. “You might be right… are you sure you’re not a therapist?”

Seungkwan's laughter fills the room, a melodic sound reminiscent of silver bells. He playfully shakes his head and lifts his beer to his lips to take another sip. The alcohol drips from the corner of his lips, and you find yourself entranced by his lips. You move a little closer, using the chilly wind as an excuse. Before you know it, the distance between you has disappeared. Seungkwan’s face is close to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. There's a moment of hesitation, a silent question hanging between you. Then, without thinking, you both lean in.

The kiss starts gentle and uncertain meeting of lips, sparking a sensation that sends a shiver down the spine. As the initial surprise fades, the kiss deepens, drawing its passion from the swirling emotions and the shared bond between two people. In the heart of the moment, it becomes all-consuming, surrounding you in a luminous wave of happiness and excitement.

When you finally pull back, you're both a little breathless, your faces inches apart. Seungkwan's eyes are dark and intense, filled with an emotion that mirrors your own. You smile at him, feeling a mixture of giddiness and contentment.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," he admits softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm glad you did," you reply, your heart pounding in your chest. 

Without a second though, you lean in for another kiss - savoring the moment. The rest of the evening becomes a whirlwind of joyous laughter and tender, stolen kisses. Between the kisses, you find yourselves invigorated by a drunken conversation. Somewhere along the line, he asks you to get breakfast with him the very next day at a local café nearby. You happily agree before continuing to indulge yourself with his lips that taste of bitter grapefruit. With each passing moment, you can feel the connection between you growing stronger, the bond deepening. Below, the city lights shimmer like stars, bearing witness to the beginning of a beautiful journey.

As the night comes to an end, you both reluctantly decide it's time to call it a day. You walk back to your apartments together, the silence between you comfortable and filled with unspoken promises. When you reach your door, Seungkwan pulls you into one last kiss, a sweet and lingering goodbye that leaves you wanting more.

"Goodnight," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

"Goodnight," you reply, your voice soft and filled with emotion.

You watch him disappear down the stairs, a smile playing on your lips. As you enter your own apartment, you feel a sense of anticipation for what the future holds. This day has been perfect, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection with Seungkwan will lead.

The next day you wake up with a slight headache, and burning cheeks at the memories from the night before. Have you already managed to mess up this new relationship? Nevertheless, you hadn’t forgotten Seungkwan’s promise of breakfast - and although you doubted yourself through every step, you managed to get ready. As you get ready, you can't help but replay the events of the garden and the rooftop in your mind. The thought of seeing him again fills you with anticipation.

You and Seungkwan stroll to the café, the air is charged with unspoken words. Apart from a brief exchange of greetings, the silence hangs heavy between you, even as the sight of him fills you with a comforting warmth. Upon entering the cozy café, the barista happily tells you that you both are the first patrons of the day. You order quickly, thanking the barista before going to find a table. Choosing a table by the window, Seungkwan settles in, and you take a seat across from him. The atmosphere is tense, with neither of you saying much, lost in your thoughts while reliving the memory of that unforgettable, electric kiss.

As the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee envelops the air, the hushed stillness of the room becomes palpable. The coffee arrives at your table, along with the food you had ordered. As you sip your coffee, the silence begins to feel impossibly heavier. You steal a glance at Seungkwan, noticing the way he seems to be carefully collecting his thoughts. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he draws in a slow, steadying breath, and as his gaze meets mine, there's an unmistakable resolve in his eyes.

"I was thinking..." he starts, his voice a bit hesitant. "Would you like to go out on a date with me? Tonight, maybe?"

His unexpected words jolt you, causing you to almost choke on the pastry you're eating. You swiftly regain your composure, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks. Seungkwan stands up hesitantly, unsure of how to help you - but you quickly motion for him to sit back down, silently telling him that you’re okay. Your face breaks out into a smile as you eagerly nod, feeling a surge of excitement welling up within you.

"I'd love to," you reply, your voice soft but filled with enthusiasm.

The rest of the breakfast passes in a blur of light conversation and shared smiles. The tension that had been present at the beginning gradually melts away, replaced by a growing sense of anticipation for the day ahead.

After going home and getting changed, you meet Seungkwan again, and he walks with you to the theme park. The colorful lights and the sound of laughter fill the air, creating an atmosphere of excitement and joy. Seungkwan takes your hand and leads you inside. The theme park is alive with energy, and the two of you quickly get swept up in the fun. You ride the roller coasters, feeling the rush of adrenaline as you laugh and scream together - you out of excitement, but Seungkwan sometimes out of pure fear. Later on, Seungkwan wins you a stuffed animal at one of the game booths, and you can't help but feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest as you hug it close.

Throughout the evening, you find yourself feeling like a kid again, running around and enjoying the rides with Seungkwan by your side. His laughter is infectious, and you can't help but be drawn to this new playful side of him. There's a carefree joy in the air, and you feel completely at ease with him. For someone who said he has issues with being spontaneous, Seungkwan’s surprisingly good at it.

As the golden sun begins its descent and the evening sky is painted with vibrant hues, Seungkwan suggests one last exhilarating escapade - a romantic ride on the Ferris wheel. You eagerly make your way to the structure. Soon, you find yourself nestled in a gondola, slowly going up above the amusement park. As you ascend, the breathtaking view unfolds before us, revealing a mesmerizing display of city lights twinkling like a sea of stars in every direction. The radiant sun bathes everything in its warm, golden glow as it gradually dips below the horizon, casting a spellbinding and unforgettable scene. 

You and Seungkwan sit in comfortable silence next to each other, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of orange and pink. The Ferris wheel comes to a gentle stop at the top, and you turn to find Seungkwan already looking at you. There's a softness in his eyes, an unspoken connection that makes your heart race. He leans in slowly, giving you time to close the distance. The kiss is soft and tender, a perfect reflection of the emotions swirling between you. It feels just as magical as the first. The warmth of his lips, the gentle pressure—it all feels right, like the beginning of something beautiful.

As the Ferris wheel starts moving again, you pull back slightly, your faces still close. Seungkwan smiles at you, his eyes shining with happiness.

"Thank you for today," he whispers. “I wouldn’t have gone on most of those rides if you weren’t with me.”

"And you don’t regret that?" you reply with a snicker.

“For some reason, I don’t.” He glances down at your lips, and then back to your eyes while a smile plays on his lips.

The ride ends, and you step off the Ferris wheel hand in hand. The theme park begins to quiet down as the night deepens, and you make your way back to the entrance. The memory of the sunset and the kiss lingers, a perfect end to a perfect day. A few months ago, you couldn’t have pictured yourself in this kind of setting.

When you get back to your apartment building and say goodnight, you’re filled with a sense of anticipation for the future. The bond between you and Seungkwan has grown stronger, and you know that this is just the beginning of something wonderful.

From that day on, the two of you spend every other day together, exploring Tokyo and growing closer. The city becomes your playground, a backdrop to the unfolding story of your blossoming relationship. Each day brings new adventures and deeper connections, as you discover the many facets of Tokyo and each other.

You visit bustling markets, where the vibrant colors and tantalizing smells overwhelm your senses. Seungkwan makes you laugh with his attempts to haggle, his playful banter drawing you closer. You wander through serene temples and shrines, finding moments of peace and reflection amidst the city's chaos. Seungkwan's hand in yours feels like an anchor, grounding you in the present and the promise of what’s to come.

The two of you wander through the vibrant streets of Harajuku and Shibuya, finding yourselves immersed in the eclectic fashion, unique shops, and bustling atmosphere. Your afternoons are filled with the delightful aromas of freshly brewed coffee and the delectable taste of sweet pastries as you share conversations in charming cafes. Seungkwan's laughter and genuine warmth create a sense of ease and joy, weaving seamlessly into the fabric of your daily experiences.

You spend lazy Sundays in lush parks, where you lay on blankets under cherry blossom trees, sharing secrets and dreams. The beauty of the city mirrors the beauty of your connection, each moment spent together is a testament to the bond growing between you. You take boat rides on the Sumida River, the gentle rocking of the boat lulling you into a serene state as Seungkwan points out landmarks and makes up stories about the people you pass.

Evenings are filled with vibrant nightlife, from izakayas where you taste various Japanese dishes to karaoke bars where Seungkwan's voice fills the room, his enthusiasm infectious. You find yourself singing along, your laughter mingling with the music, creating memories that will linger long after the songs have ended.

As the days melt into weeks, a bittersweet truth starts to sink in. Your time in Tokyo is gradually coming to an end, and the idea of parting with Seungkwan feels like a heavy burden on your heart. The city, which has served as the canvas for your love story, now seems like a relentless countdown, each passing day pulling you nearer to your impending departure.

Eventually, the day arrives. You have one last day together before you have to leave, and you decide to make the most of it. You revisit your favorite spots, each location now tinged with nostalgia and the knowledge that this is your final adventure together in Tokyo. The laughter and joy are still there, but there's an underlying sadness that neither of you can ignore.

That evening, you find yourselves on the rooftop again, the city lights twinkling below like a sea of stars. The two of you sit in silence for a while, soaking in the moment. Seungkwan reaches for your hand, his grip firm and reassuring.

"I can't believe you're leaving tomorrow," he says softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

"I know," you reply, your heart aching. "I wish I could stay longer."

Seungkwan pulls you into a hug, his embrace warm and comforting. "Let's make a promise," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "No matter what happens, let's remember this time together."

“Promise.”

When the moment to part ways approaches and you bid each other goodnight, a bittersweet feeling fills the air. You savor one last, tender kiss that seems to linger long after it's over, leaving an indelible mark on your heart. The following day, as you prepare to leave, a sense of heaviness settles in your chest, a poignant reminder of the emotions stirred up by that final, lingering kiss. 

It was only at Tokyo Central station, watching Seungkwan wave goodbye through the window to your seat on the train, that a sinking feeling washed over you as you realized that you had never thought to ask for his contact information. In the whirlwind of our time together, you had never exchanged numbers, always assuming that you’d simply meet up again the next day. The thought of leaving without a way to reach him fills you with a sense of regret, but there's no time to rectify it. You leave Tokyo with a heavy heart, the memory of Seungkwan's kiss, and the moments you shared replaying in your mind. The city fades into the distance as you return to your old life, but the connection you felt with Seungkwan lingers, a bittersweet reminder of a love that bloomed amidst the bustling streets of Tokyo.

Back home, you find yourself missing him more than you anticipated. The sights, sounds, and smells of Tokyo haunt your thoughts, each memory tied to the boy who made your time there unforgettable. You crash at your friend's place, trying to adjust to the familiar surroundings that now feel foreign without Seungkwan.

You throw yourself into finding a new apartment, hoping that the busyness will distract you from the ache in your heart. When you finally move your things from storage and settle into your new place, you feel a sense of accomplishment but also a lingering sadness. The memory of Seungkwan's smile, his laughter, and his touch stays with you, a constant reminder of the days spent exploring Tokyo and falling in love. 

The days blend together in a haze of unpacking and organizing, but there’s a sense of purpose driving you forward. The bustling energy of Tokyo still lingers in your mind, a vivid contrast to the quiet moments of solitude as you prepare for this new chapter in your life. When you start moving your things from storage, you immediately know that you’ve found a good place to call home. The apartment, with its cozy corners and ample sunlight, feels like a fresh start. Each box unpacked and each piece of furniture arranged is a step towards creating a space that is uniquely yours. Slowly, you let your heart heal from Seungkwan - and you can only hope that he’s doing the same.

A few weeks after settling in, you’ve developed a routine that brings a sense of normalcy back to your days. Yet, there's a lingering feeling of incompleteness, a part of you still caught up in the whirlwind of memories from Tokyo and the adventures you had there. One afternoon, you decide to take a break from your routine and explore the neighborhood a little more. You look at the local shops and cafés, watch the people who live there continuing their lives, and you think of Seungkwan. He should be back in Seoul by now if you remember correctly. It would be impossible to find him, but a small sense of hope lingers in your chest that you’d manage to bump into him.

You walk back to your apartment and get into the elevator with tired steps. As you walk into the elevator, lost in thought, you hear someone shout for you to keep the doors open. Startled, you quickly press the button to hold the elevator. The doors slide open again, and in rushes Seungkwan, looking slightly out of breath but beaming with that familiar, heartwarming smile. He doesn’t see you at first, his focus being purely on the bag in his hand. Your jaw all but drops to the floor as you watch him fix his messy hair.

"Thank you!" he says, slightly breathless. "I didn't want my ice cream to melt."

He motions to the bag and finally looks up at you. His eyes go as wide as yours, if not bigger, and his mouth hangs open. He had immediately recognized you. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Would it be wrong to hug him? Kiss him? Although that’s all you wanted to do, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. However, when the elevator started moving so did your ability to function.

"Seungkwan… I can't believe it's you."

With the hand that’s not holding the bag, Seungkwan brings you into an embrace. His chin lands on your shoulder, and you can’t do anything but hug him back. You come back to your senses once Seungkwan pulls away. The elevator ride, which feels like the longest and shortest ride at the same time, is filled with small talk. You both exchange quick updates on your lives since Tokyo, and the conversation is as light and easy as it had been before. As the elevator reaches your floor, you realize with a mix of surprise and delight that Seungkwan is getting off on the same floor as you.

The tension releases as the two of you laugh at the situation. "Looks like we're neighbors," Seungkwan says, shaking his head in disbelief. "What are the odds?"

As you both step out of the elevator, he turns to you with a playful smile and lifts up the bag demonstratively. "How about we celebrate this coincidence with some ice cream? My place?"

You agree, telling him that you’re just going to go change out of your clothes. "Give me a few minutes," you say, your heart pounding with excitement.

Rushing into your apartment, you quickly freshen up and change into something more comfortable. As you stand in front of your mirror, you take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. A few minutes later, you're knocking at Seungkwan’s door, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through you.

He opens the door, welcoming you in with a warm smile. His apartment feels cozy and inviting, a perfect reflection of his personality. You sit down together, catching up over ice cream. The conversation flows naturally, filled with laughter and shared memories. Seungkwan tells you that he’s missed you and regretted not getting your number before. His voice is earnest, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes.

"I've thought about you a lot," he admits, his gaze meeting yours. "I was worried I might never see you again."

You feel a rush of emotions, your heart swelling at his words. "I've missed you too, Seungkwan. More than I can say."

The moment feels charged with emotion, and before you know it, you're leaning in, closing the distance between you. The kiss is sweet and lingering, filled with all the unspoken feelings and missed opportunities. It’s as if no time has passed since your last kiss in Tokyo, and the connection between you is just as strong, if not stronger.

When you finally pull back, you’re both smiling, a mixture of relief and happiness in your expressions. Seungkwan takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "How about we do this properly?" he asks, his voice soft but hopeful. "Will you go on a date with me?"

Your smile widens, and you nod eagerly. "Yes, I'd love to."

Seungkwan’s face lights up with joy. "Great! How about tomorrow evening? There's a new restaurant I've been wanting to try."

"Sounds perfect," you reply, your heart soaring. “Can I finally give you my number now?”

Rolling up your sleeves, you walked into your kitchen to deal with the next situation. The walls were covered with stacked boxes, so you almost couldn't see the old wallpaper. The noises were coming from your kitchen table, which still wasn't packed up. Vernon was sitting at the table with your niece, and the two of them had put out a paper plate with whatever snacks they could find, three glasses, and a bottle of water.

Your shoulders relaxed as you watched the two of them play pretend. They had clearly been trying to help you pack but had gotten distracted by your miscellaneous items. Vernon was wearing one of your scarves on his head and an old pair of sunglasses you had forgotten about - your niece wearing a matching pair. However, as soon as he saw you come in, he took off the glasses and sent you a gentle smile.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

It was all so ridiculous. Your sister was in the middle of an unexpectedly early childbirth, in the middle of you getting ready to move into your boyfriend's apartment, and here he was: playing dress-up with your niece. In some weird way, it was just what you needed - how Vernon could know you had no idea.

"She's fine," you finally replied with a tired smile. "It was a little bit of a surprise, but everything seems to be okay... what are the two of you doing?"

"We're just-"

"Stay in character!" your niece complained.

Vernon mouthed "Sorry," before putting the sunglasses back on and turning back to your niece. With his usual, matter-of-fact voice, he asked her what she thought about the weather. Your niece picked up her glass and took a sip of the water, making an exaggerated "ahh" as she put it back down.

"Too much rain," she responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

You could see Vernon have to restrain himself from laughing, his hand flying up to cover his smile. After clearing his throat, he nodded in agreement. You should be packing up the last of your stuff, the moving truck will arrive soon, and you should probably text your sister's husband again to ask him to send you updates. But right now, you could feel how tired you were in your bones. So, you sat down on the third chair and let Vernon pour you a glass of water. Then, he picked up the paper plate and held it out to you.

"Gummy worm?" he asked.

"How old are those?" You chuckled as you inspected the candies on the plate.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "But the cookies are from last week, I think."

You took a cookie and silently thanked him. Vernon and your niece continued their conversation about rain, which took a sharp turn when Vernon mentioned thunder - which was apparently very controversial in your niece's eyes. Any anxious feelings you had over moving in with Vernon were slowly disappearing. For a moment, you could truly let go of everything as Vernon kept your niece busy - and if he acted like this in a moment of crisis, maybe the two of you would do well living together.

"Bathroom break!" your niece suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands together once to signal that the scene was over.

She hopped off her chair and walked away to your small bathroom. You had already taken all of the boxes out of there, so you knew that she would be okay on her own.

"She's a little director," Vernon said.

"She is," you murmured.

He gave you a long look, a silent "Are you really okay?" to which you responded with a nod. Vernon moved his chair closer to yours, wrapping his arms around you and slowly patting your head.

"You're doing good, babe," he muttered against the top of your head.

"Thank you."

"I'll go back to packing up and you could sit with her for a bit," he suggested. "Or I could do anything else you need."

"Packing sounds good," you hummed. "I just need to make sure she's not feeling neglected or anything, you know? My sister was worried."

Vernon let go of you and grabbed your hand to give it a comforting squeeze. He was still wearing the scarf and the sunglasses, and you could no longer keep a straight face. You snort and turn away from him, trying to shield yourself from breaking out into even more laughter.

"What?" he asked and tried to make you look at him again. "Am I not pretty?"

After taking a deep breath, you look back at him with a contained grin. Vernon cocks his head at you, clearly aware of the way he looks now but also determined to keep you smiling. Your niece eventually came back from the bathroom and climbed back onto her chair. The two of you looked at her expectantly as she cleared her throat.

"Bathroom break's over!" she chimed.

"Honey," you said carefully. "Is it okay if Vernon goes away to pack some more stuff and I stay here with you?"

Your niece glanced back and forth between the two of you before extending her hand to Vernon. He carefully removed his scarf and glasses and placed them into her small, outstretched palm.

"You've been replaced!" your niece exclaimed dramatically as she handed you the items. "I'll give you the roll as long as you stay in character!"

As you and Vernon erupted into laughter, your niece continued to mimic the voice of a director before she eventually joined you in your mirth. Everything that could go wrong today, did go wrong - yet, it felt bearable with Vernon by your side. Observing his banter with your niece might have seemed like a man simply engaging in make-believe with his partner's niece others, but to you, it was a deeply serene and comforting scene. You knew with certainty that your future was in reliable hands.

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feedback is always appreciated!♡

The cold air sends goosebumps over your skin as you pull away the covers. Picking up the first clothing item you can see, one of Seonghwa’s discarded t-shirts, you quickly make your way out to the living room. There, the piano stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. It arrived late, and neither of you wanted to move it around. So, in the middle of the room, it is! For now. Seonghwa doesn’t notice you, even though the sound of your feet against the hardwood floor is the opposite of soft. His back is turned to you, his head tilted down to watch the keys intently. The checkered pajama pants, old t-shirt, and messy hair combination contrast the fancy dark wood of the piano nicely. 

When you wrap your arms around his shoulders, he flinches ever so slightly before he sinks into your embrace. A soft sigh escapes his parted lips as he goes to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. You grumble a “good morning,” although it comes out as more of a grunt. 

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

“Yeah, but it was nice,” you admit. “We should get someone to tune the piano, though.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He smooths his fingers over the dark wood. “I’m sure someone on my team knows someone.”

You hum in response, still too tired to speak full sentences. Seonghwa turns around in his piano chair, maneuvering you to straddle his lap. He kisses the corner of your mouth, too sleepy to realize that he’s missed your mouth. 

“I’ll play every day,” he says. “I’ll get really good- I’ll play at our wedding or something.”

“Babe, you’re supposed to walk down the aisle- not accompany the ceremony,” you remind him. 

Seonghwa smiles at his mistake, hiding his face by pressing it against your chest. He’s still half asleep, as anyone would be at eight in the morning, so you’re quick to forgive him for his mishap.

“Besides, I like the thought of having private concerts here in the apartment. All to myself.” You take his face in your hands and make him look at you again.

His glasses are a little crooked, and he wears a matching lopsided smile, but to you, he’s perfect. 

“Can I make you breakfast while you keep practicing?” you ask.

“Sure.

“You have to let go of me, then.” You giggle.

Seonghwa reluctantly lets go of you, allowing you to walk over to the kitchen as he turns back to his out-of-tune piano.

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Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

Soon enough, he's shielded from the rain by the small roof that covers the entrance to your apartment. With shaky hands, he pushes the digits into the keypad; four-one-six-five has become his favorite number combination. A smile plays on his lips as the lock clicks open and lets him push the door open.

Your apartment doesn't have an elevator - and if that isn't enough of a giveaway that it's old, the smell in the stairway makes it even more clear - but Soonyoung doesn't even think about complaining as he jogs up the stairs to the third floor. He's just thinking about you, what you would look like when he finally got up the stairs, what you would say to him, and, more importantly, what he would say to you.

He takes a moment to catch his breath once he gets to the door to your apartment - silently thanking Jihoon for taking him to the gym so much, and the choreographer for working them to the bone until they knew each step perfectly. After he fixes his clothes - pulling at his jeans, fixing his jacket, and taking off his sunglasses - Soonyoung finally knocks on your door.

It takes a few seconds, and he can hear you shuffling around on the other side of the door. You slide open the cover to the peep hole, he can hear the little squeak it always makes, and he waves right at the hole. A soft laugh echoes from the other side of the door, pulling at Soonyoung's heartstrings. The latch comes out of it's place, the lock turns, and then you're there in front of him. You're a vision in one of his "stolen" t-shirts and the heart-print sleep shorts he gave you - a big grin is painted on your face, which is glowing from the skincare you had probably just gotten done with.

"Soonyoungie!" You throw your arms out to him, and he engulfs you in a big hug.

You don't care that he's wet from the rain, or that his "outside clothes" are touching your "inside clothes" right now - as you usually would. You can't think of the last time you had seen him, mostly because you don't want to think about the months you have spent without him. Soonyoung spins you around in the air as he gets inside your apartment, knocking over something on the table you keep in your hallway. But you couldn't care less about your things getting knocked over, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek before he sets you down.

"When did you get back?" you ask, your hands still on his shoulders and unable to fully let him go.

"An hour ago," he says.

"I just needed to see you," he wants to add, but stops himself. It isn't the right time. You invite him to take off his jacket and come inside. While he gets rid of his wet clothes, you pick out a few things of his that he had left from last time he was here. You don't have to tell him that you knew it would be good to leave a few things at your place, he already knows.

Once Soonyoung has changed, he goes into your bedroom where you're lying with your laptop in front of you. When you see him, a giddy smile appears on your smile and you immediately get up to prepare a spot next to you. He would never get tired of seeing your face light up as he walks into the room - for a moment, he can pretend like you're his.

As soon as you move the covers to reveal your comfortable mattress, Soonyoung practically jumps in next to you. You groan and complain - grumbling something about how he spends an awful amount of energy arguing that he's a tiger, when he acts like a kangaroo - but Soonyoung doesn't listen. Your computer almost gets knocked over as he snuggles closer to you.

"Hey, watch it!" You push your computer further into the bed with your foot.

Soonyoung doesn't heed your threatening warning, he doesn't even hear it. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, pressed up against your warm skin, and his arms are wrapped around your torso. Yes, this is home. He notes that you're still using the same scented lotion, but that your laundry detergent may be different. Maybe it's creepy to remember those things - but Soonyoung is clinging to each and every detail of you as if his life depended on it. Once your nagging stops, he finally gets to feel you hug him back. Your arms wrap around him, one of your hands coming up to cradle the back of his head, and Soonyoung finally feels complete.

He can't tell you this, but he's madly in love with you. Everyone else seems to realize but not you - or maybe you're just pretending to not to know. However, Soonyoung can't lie to himself no matter how much he tries. He's been in love with you since last summer - or at least that's when he realized his feelings. His friends told him that they could tell he's liked you for longer, but Soonyoung can't confirm that theory.

Either way, you can't know... is what he used to think. After that time last summer, where he had kissed you in a drunken game of truth or dare, he decided to keep his feels secret. It was only when he wasn't able to see you for months on end that he realized he can't keep it up. He missed your touch, your scent, your voice, your everything. Too many nights were spent complaining about not being able to see you, to the point where Jeonghan had almost called you to tell him of Soonyoung's feelings himself.

Now he's with you again, determined to confess... at some point. This situation was just too delicate.

"Do you want to watch a show with me?" you ask. "I already started it, but I'll catch you up on the details."

"Sure." Soonyoung didn't care what you two did together, as long as he got to be with you.

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You're sitting on your bed with your computer on your lap. The episode is at it's end, and you're planning on going to sleep right after it did - unless it ends on a cliffhanger, of course.

When the doorbell rings, you all but jump out of bed. It's late, and you aren't expecting anyone. You know better than to open the door to a stranger, let alone pay any attention to a late night door bell without anyone telling you they're coming over first. However, the annoyingly curious part of you forces you to make your way to the front door. You quickly slide away the cover to the peephole and lean in to look through it.

To your surprise, it's not a scary stranger standing on the other side of your door. It's your Soonyoung. A giddy feeling spreads through your chest as you watch him wave at you through the peephole. With hands shaking from excitement, you fumble with the latch before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

"Soonyoungie!" You hold your arms out to him, and you're quickly swept up in a big, wet hug.

Right, it's raining outside. He lifts you up off the ground and gets both of you inside the apartment. You hear him knock something over, but don't even look to where the noise came from. He was finally home - as of an hour, he tells you. He came to see you immediately, you can't help but think. You try not to think about the fact that you're wearing his shirt and the heart-print pajama shorts he gifted you for a joke. If you didn't think about them, maybe he wouldn't notice. The proud look in his eyes says otherwise.

You end up getting him new clothes before going back to your place on your bed. At this point, your heart is in your throat - pounding so hard that you're scared it's going to come jumping out if you speak. It was your friend's fault - the ones who dared Soonyoung to kiss you. If they had kept to themselves, if they hadn't mocked you by basically showing you what you would never have, then maybe it wouldn't have gotten so difficult to talk to him.

It only got worse when Soonyoung came back. You moved around, making space for him to lay next to you, and he came running to your side. You let out a groan as Soonyoung crashes into you, his body molding so perfectly against yours.

"You know, you talk a lot about being a tiger but you seriously act like a kangaroo." Your comment falls on deaf ears, and it's partially because your voice is so quiet seeing as Soonyoung is suffocating you with his weight.

At Soonyoung's dramatic movements, your laptop almost falls off the edge of the bed. You yelp and reach for it with your foot, seeing as the rest of your body was stuck thanks to the man beside you. His face was in the crook of your neck, and you could feel his warm breath against your sensitive skin. You don't press him harder against you, despite desperately wanting to. Instead, you shuffle around until you're somewhat free and pick up your laptop.

"Do you want to watch a show with me?" you ask. "I already started it, but I'll catch you up on the details."

"Sure," Soonyoung mumbled.

You're not sure if he actually heard you, but you put on the show anyway. Whenever the characters bring something up from a past episode, you mutter an explanation to Soonyoung - who only hums in response. His arms stay wrapped around your middle, although you wish that they wouldn't. Having him hold you like this almost makes you believe that he liked you back. He has been different ever since that summer evening, but you always brush it off as him feeling weird about kissing a close friend.

"Who's that?" Soonyoung pauses the episode to point at a character.

"Oh! That's my favorite character!" You tell him the character's name and the backstory that has been revealed so far.

Soonyoung's eyes stay on the screen, practically glued to the character. At first you think nothing of it but as you keep talking about him, Soonyoung holds you a little tighter. The actor is very attractive, no one can deny that, and so you may or may not start gushing about it.

"Hey," Soonyoung interrupts your rambling and finally looks up at you. "Why don't you talk about me like that?"

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The words pour out of Soonyoung's mouth before he could process them, and he instantly regrets them. "Why don't you talk about me like that?" Who says that? But Soonyoung can't hide now. He can't look away from you when he's said something like that. He keeps his eyes on you, despite wanting nothing more than to look back at the stupid character on the stupid screen.

"What?" Your voice is laced with a suspectfull humor - as if you aren't sure if he's being sarcastic or not.

"I just..." He finally looks away. "It's nothing..."

"Tell me," you whine as you shake his shoulders. "You can't say that and then not explain yourself!"

A part of him wonders if you want him to say it so badly because you already know. Because you're in love with him too. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but Soonyoung is willing to take his chances.

"The way you keep complimenting this random guy..." He motions to the screen with a nonchalant flick of his hand. "It's like you don't even see that I'm laying right next to you."

"You want me to compliment you?"

"I want you to see me."

Soonyoung meets your gaze again. The playful smile on your lips falters as you see the serious look on his face. He's close to you, your lips are right there, and he can feel your breath fan his skin. When you don't respond, Soonyoung grows anxious. He looks back to the screen, ready to make a joke to relieve the tension, when you take his jaw in your hand and force him to face you again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your lips smash against his in a messy and passionate kiss, so unlike the shy and timid kiss he had given you that summer evening. This was coming from the cave in your chest, where your heart had been spinning threads of want and need for the past few months since then. You're not just his friend anymore, not after this. You couldn't bring yourself to. The pounding of your pulse was drowning out all noise - so when he pulled away and mumbled something to you, you couldn't hear a word. Your half-lidded eyes lingered on his lips, you could see them move but not a word processed in your brain. That was, until he smiled and his laugh made it through the mental barrier you had put up.

"Answer me."

"What?"

"What was that for?" he asked, probably for the umpteenth time.

"I just wanted to kiss you again," you admit without thinking.

It was already getting late when Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin had "discovered" the karaoke machine. One of the members, or maybe even one of their partners, had attempted to hide it under a blanket - to no avail, seeing as the three of them were able to sniff it out.

It all started with a solo from Seungkwan, which Soonyoung joined in on. Soon enough, the entirety of BSS was singing together once Seokmin had joined them. Once the song finished, everyone expected them to start singing again soon enough - but they didn't expect to hear your voice echo from the speakers.

Seungcheol sat in the corner of the room, talking to Joshua about how nice it was going to be to spend some quiet time alone with you, when he heard "Whatta Man" by Salt-N-Pepa and En Vogue start playing over the systems. At first, he thought nothing of it - maybe he was a little surprised that Soonyoung knew all of the words to the first verse, but there was nothing in particular that got his attention from his conversation. That was, until you started on the second verse.

"My man is smooth like Barry and his voice got bass. A body like Arnold with a Denzel face-"

Your voice was giggly, but you surprisingly managed to sing all of the words quite clearly . Joshua snorted as he looked up to the mini-stage that Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan had made out of a few tables. Seungcheol didn't dare look up at first, but it was impossible to ignore your loud voice over the speakers. As soon as he lifted his gaze to meet yours, your face lit up. From your face, Seungcheol could tell that you were drunk - he could tell that you were very drunk from the way you danced as if no one was watching... despite everyone definitely watching.

"Yeah, the ritual, highway to Heaven. From 7 to 7, he's got me open like 7-11," you shouted into the microphone while pointing to him.

Soonyoung was on the floor, dying from laughter, Seokmin was staring at the lyrics on the screen, and Seungkwan was singing back-up vocals while you kept going. Eventually, Seungcheol excused himself from his conversation with Joshua to walk to the front of the room. While he only thought this was cute, he knew that you would be embarrassed as all hell in the morning. It was time to put this to a stop. Seungkwan had since taken over, while you were holding your arms over your head and moving your hips in circles - completely unaware of the eyes on you, despite the many whoop's and wolf whistles. When you saw him approach, you stopped what you were doing and bounced over to him.

"Seungcheollie~," you slurred directly into the microphone. "You're a mighty-mighty good man!"

"Uh-huh." Seungcheol looked up at you, holding his hands out to catch you in case you fell off the table you were standing on. "I think you're ready for bed, pretty."

"Noooo," you whined as your boyfriend managed to take the microphone from you. "The song isn't done yet..."

Seungkwan and Soonyoung were still singing, while Seokmin was still looking at the lyrics and shouting out words at random, and not paying attention to you anymore. With a sigh, Seungcheol put the mic down on the ground - though he couldn't hide his big smile as he looked back up to see that you had started dancing again. He managed to take ahold of you, grabbing your legs and putting your body over his shoulder.

"Cheollie, nooo..."

Seungcheol excused himself to the room of people, and didn't wait for their response before going away to the bedroom the two of you had picked out. To get you more comfortable before he carried out in the chilly night, he maneuvered you to sit with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your face naturally found its way to the crook of his neck, and he heard you let out a delighted sigh as he hugged you a little tighter. He managed to put on his slippers without looking - or at least he thought it was his slippers - and decided to leave your shoes there to be picked up in the morning.

"Comfy?" he asked.

You hummed in response, and Seungcheol opened the door to step outside. The walk to the cabin wasn't far but it was getting pretty cold outside, and you shivered in his arms.

"We'll get you in bed soon, baby," he cooed at you.

"Seungcheol," you said in a very serious tone - you definitely hadn't heard what he had just said.

"Yeah?"

"Why aren't you a lumberjack man?" You lifted your upper body up to look at him.

"Why am I not a what now?" Seungcheol laughed, doing his best to give you his attention while still keeping you off the ground. "A lumberjack man?"

"You're so strong- you can definitely carry wood for a living." You gripped onto his biceps. "And you'd have, like, a husky or something... not that Kkuma isn't cute, she should come with us too... and we'd live in the woods- I think it'd be very hot of you."

"Are you fantasizing about me as a lumberjack man?" He opened the door to the cabin and stepped inside. "I thought I already was a mighty good man."

"Oh, you are." As he set you down on the bed, you refused to let him go - your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close to you. "I just wanna watch you chop wood."

Despite you smelling of alcohol, Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your lips. His heart melted as he saw your big smile when he pulled away. As if his kiss was the password for you to unlock your arms, you let him go. Your eyes stayed on Seungcheol as he walked around the room, preparing for the night. He went into the bathroom to grab the painkillers you had brought and when he came back out, you were still looking at him. Your legs were crossed, leaning back on your arms, and your head was cocked to the side. As if he wasn't looking right at you, you looked him up and down - very obviously undressing him with your eyes.

"Babe," he said, interrupting your staring. "Get your pajamas."

"You're not going to undress me?" You pouted.

You were that kind of drunk. Seungcheol sighed and walked over to your bag, taking out your pajama pants and a t-shirt. While he was usually always intrigued whenever you tried to initiate something, tonight was not the case. You were almost too drunk to stand up straight, so no amount of complimenting his strong arms or fluttering your eyes at him was going to make Seungcheol give in. Still, he agreed to help undress you - and did so quickly, while you giggled as you tried to interrupt him.

Your hands never left his skin as he guided you around the room to get you ready for bed. After successfully getting you to brush your teeth, it was time for your skincare. He sat you down on the counter in the bathroom to help you, all the while you were feeling up his arms and shoulders. It was a little distracting, but Seungcheol put all of his energy to get your face clean. His hands were gentle as they traced the features of your face, and you closed your eyes in pure bliss.

"Maybe you shouldn't be a lumberjack man," you muttered.

"No? Why not?"

"Your hands are so gentle," you whispered, as if it was a secret.

You let go of his arms to start touching his hands instead. Seungcheol tried his best to keep your hands away from his own, but you were relentless. With your hands on top of his, you pressed them against your cheeks. They almost covered your entire face, but you didn't seem to mind.

"Soft hands," you muttered. "Wow, you're warm."

"Baby, just let me do the last step..." He sighed and removed his hands from you to pick up your face lotion. "You're a menace when you're drunk."

"Can you cuddle me when we go to bed?" you asked sweetly, ignoring what he had just said again. "I want to steal your warmth."

"Sure, babe." He looked up at you with a soft smile. "Now, close your eyes again."

Once you were tucked under the covers, he got you a glass of water. When you saw him, standing in front of you with a glass of water and looking tired, your eyes started tearing up. Seungcheol was quick to crouch down, putting the water on the bedside table, and reaching out to cup your face in his hands.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he cooed.

"You really are a good man," you mumbled with a pout. "Like- not just in the hot way."

Seungcheol hung his head down to hide his laugh from you. If you had seen him laughing at you, he knew that you'd take it as a personal attack. He looked back at you, trying to keep a straight face.

"You deserve the best, alright?" He let you go and picked up the glass of water again. "Now, drink up. I'll get you another glass for you to drink in the morning."

You nodded, tears still in your eyes over his sweet act, and started drinking. After putting painkillers and another glass of water on the bedside table by your side of the bed, Seungcheol got ready for bed. When he crawled into bed, minutes later, you were already half asleep. He kept his promise, and cuddled up next to you. You snuggled your head against his chest, and put your cold feet against his legs. Seungcheol froze up, but was careful not to make a sound as you were about to fall asleep. He knew that you were going to hate yourself in the morning, that you were going to ask him a million questions about what you had done, but now you looked so peaceful and he hoped that you could stay like that for as long as possible.

✦ . B O N U S . ✦

Breakfast was set out in the living room of the main house, made by the few that weren't experiencing a hungover that morning. You walked in behind Seungcheol, wearing one of his hoodies with the hood pulled up and sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose to protect you from the strong sunlight. As soon as a few people saw the two of you, they started singing:

"Whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man!"

You groaned and reluctantly sat down by the table, apologizing to everyone that was there about your drunken behavior the night before. People started joking around about it and while you were embarrassed, you couldn't help but to laugh at their jokes.

"Seriously, Seungcheol, you should be proud." Chan said from beside you. "No sane person would ever get up on a table and sing that song like that to a person, if they weren't down bad for them."

This time, your attempts fail. Yeosang stirs awake as you shift to lay on your side. He groans and shuts his eyes tight before they flutter open, and then you know you successfully woke him up.

"What time is it?" His voice is hoarse, yet somehow still sweet.

"Go back to sleep," you say.

He repeats his question, ignoring your statement because he knows your ways by now. You sigh and answer him, it's useless to try to hide. Yeosang hums and lazily wraps his strong arms around you to pull you in closer.

"Did you have another bad dream?" he asks with a slightly pampering tone.

You nod, and he hums again in approval. In slow motions, he rubs your back in circles. When you press your ear to his chest, you can hear his steady heart beat. Thump, thump, thump... his hand move to the same rhythm, practically forcing your own heart to slow down.

"I was having a weird dream," Yeosang whispers suddenly.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" you mumble, your eyes already drooping.

"I was in an empty swimming pool, but it was filled with clouds," he muttered, "and I couldn't find my way out... I know that you were there but I couldn't see you, you know? And I think Wooyoung was there, mocking me because I couldn't get out, but I couldn't see him because of the clouds..."

A fond smile found it's way on your lips as you listened to him ramble. The nightmare is long forgotten, Yeosang triumphantly banishes it from your thoughts. You took a deep breath, the scent of his laundry detergent and the lingering smell of his cologne filling your head.

"Are you falling asleep on me?" he asks, somewhat offended.

"No..." Your body betrayed you, as you were cut off by a yawn. "It's just nice listening to your voice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... it's soothing."

You snuggled closer into his chest, taking in his scent and the way his arms felt around you. While you knew that he'd have to leave sometime soon again, you didn't know when. Every moment until then counted, and you had to live like you wouldn't see him for month on end the very next day every day.

"Baby," Yeosang whispered and you hummed. "You're not trying to squeeze me to death, are you?"

"Sorry." You loosened your grip on him, and tried to shuffle away from him but his strong arms stopped you from moving further away.

"Y/N," he murmured. "Are you okay?"

He was looking directly at you now, and you couldn't bring yourself to look away. Yeosang's eyes were always easy to get lost in, but this wasn't the case right now. His gaze was stern, yet worried, and you couldn't help but to feel like you weren't allowed to look away.

"I know you usually don't want to talk about it..." He sighed. "But, please, let me in. Tell me about your nightmare."

"It's stupid," you muttered. "I was seeing you off at the airport, and everything was okay. But when your plane took off, I was watching from the windows, and I saw it... it went down, and you were gone."

Yeosang hugged you closer again, putting his hand on the back of your head to put it by the crook of his neck. You muttered out some more details about the dream that Yeosang couldn't hear, but he let you rant for as long as you wanted to without interrupting you. It was only when you had been quiet for a while that he started talking again.

"Are your nightmares all like that?" he asked.

"Not exactly... but similar, yes." You played with the hem of Yeosang's shirt. "I think I just don't like it when you leave, that's all."

"I don't like leaving you either... why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"It just felt stupid, I didn't want to bother you with it." You sighed and looked back up at him. "Not when you're sleeping, I don't want to take any rest away from you."

You put your hand on his cheek, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone right by his birthmark. Yeosang put his hand on top of yours, holding it still as he turned his head to kiss your palm.

"I'm not resting when I know you're hurting," he muttered before pressing another kiss to your hand. "Don't be scared to wake me up, Y/N, please. I want to take care of you too."

"I'm sorry-"

"Why are you laughing?" you whined. "That was beautiful!"

Vernon let out another laugh as the tears came rolling down your cheeks again. The two of you hadn't been sitting far apart, but for the sake of your well-being, Vernon moved a little closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Babe," he whispered, "you've already seen this movie... a lot."

"Because it's good! You think so too, right? Why aren't you crying?" you whaled, and Vernon couldn't help but laugh again.

"I've also seen it-"

You buried your face in your chest, and Vernon grinned as he wrapped his arms around your frame. His unwillingness to cry only made you more upset. It was cute, really. Then he saw a name on the credits that he recognized and something he had been trying to figure out clicked.

"Oh. Now I remember where I've seen him before," he said, referring to earlier in the movie where he had tried to figure out one of the actor's filmography from memory. "He's that guy in the second season of Stranger Things."

Your sniffles stopped, your body stopped quivering, and Vernon knew he had said something wrong. He let you go as you tried to get out of his grip, and when you looked at him you were met with a cheesy smile that screamed "Please forgive me!"

"Sam did not carry Frodo up Mount Doom to be known as 'that guy from Stranger Things!'" you exclaimed.

Vernon threw his head back with laughter as you tried your best to argue with him - it was impossible, he was laughing so hard that he could barely catch his breath let alone answer you. He had spent the majority of your rewatch of the Lord of the Rings trilogy trying to figure out where he had seen Sam before. It wasn't anything he had thought of before, so of course he wanted to know. You had asked him to not go on his phone, watching the movies was very serious for you - even if you frequently talked over the movie to explain certain things. That was allowed, of course. Vernon didn't complain, he enjoyed watching you be so enamored with a movie. He was just happy that you had finally started to relax after your hard day at work.

"I'm sorry," he said in between snickering. "I just saw the actor's name on the credits, I didn't mean to offend Sam."

You looked at him with a pout, your eyes still glossy from crying and the skin around them slightly puffy. You looked like a mess, but Vernon still thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. His grin never faltered; eventually, it got you to break into a smile. You cuddled up next to him again, and he wrapped his arms around you. The credits kept rolling, but neither of you felt like moving to turn them off.

"I still don't understand why Arwen was dying," Vernon mumbled.

"She chose a mortal life," you murmured, "And since she was opposed to Sauron, she would've died if he got the ring back. They all would have."

Vernon nodded at your explanation. You were tired; he could tell from the way you yawned and the fact that you didn't go into a full-blown explanation of why Arwen was dying towards the end of the trilogy. He placed one of his hands on the top of your head, letting you take the other in your hands and play with his fingers.

"Would you choose a mortal life for me?" he asked.

"Yeah." You intertwined your fingers with his, looking at them as if you were studying the way his hand fit in yours. Usually, you would've teased him for asking such a question - called him lame, and maybe flicked his forehead, but not tonight.

"Even if I called Sam 'that actor from Stranger Things?'"

"You're pushing it." You looked up at him with a teasing grin. "But yeah."

"Thanks," he said with a grin that matched yours.

You pursed your lips at him, silently asking him for a kiss, and he obliged. It was short and chaste, almost just a peck. His lips were slightly chapped and tasted like salty popcorn, but you didn't care. When you pulled back from him, his eyes were still closed as if he was trying to savor the moment. You put your head back on his chest without saying a word, even though you had plenty of ideas on ways to tease him floating around in your mind.

"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked after some time of silence.

"Could we just stay here for a moment?" you asked. "I'm comfortable here."

"Sure."

The beep cut off the message before Hongjoong got to finish. It was the second time you had listened to it. He had called you while you were at work, doing overtime, and you hadn’t heard your phone buzzing in your bag. It was typical of the two of you; you always managed to miss each other by a hair. You sighed and put down your phone on the counter. The clock on your kitchen wall said 12:30, and you’d usually be in bed by now but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay down in it. Not when you knew the bed would be empty, and the sheets would be cold. Therefore, you sat by the counter with a cup of tea in front of you. 

You were nursing the cup in your palms as if the warmth of the mug would be as comforting as your lover’s embrace. It was late when he had called you, and it sounded like he was heading off to bed, but you were still mulling over whether or not to call him - you just needed to hear his voice. Your phone was next to the cup on the counter, its dark screen was taunting you with your reflection. The little amount of willpower that you had was not enough to keep you away from him; so you picked up your phone and texted him.

You [12:32]: are you awake?

After pressing send, you quickly put your phone down and sighed. You had lost to your needs and wants yet again. The two of you weren’t even official - you couldn’t be. It was easy to fall in love with him, but harder to keep loving him. Everything had to stay secret, no matter how much you wanted to shout to the world that, yes, you were very much in love with Kim Hongjoong and he actually liked you back! However, with his line of work came a lot of restrictions. Seeing him was difficult, meeting up with him in public was even more difficult, and telling people that you were dating was out of the question. 

As much as you enjoyed sneaking around with him, you couldn’t deny your want to be his and for him to be yours - you wanted to be his partner, and you wanted others to know that you were his partner. Instead, you’re stuck in an in-between-relationship; where you’re exclusively seeing each other, but unable to do things that partners would or tell anyone that you were partners - a relationship where you were still scared to seem clingy, despite the two of you barely seeing each other. The low buzzing of your phone brought you out of your spiraling thoughts.

Hongjoong [12:34]: yes, but why are you awake?🤨

You smiled at the message, trying to contain your excitement by biting your bottom lip. The cup was set to the side, the comforting warmth on your palms no longer needed, and you picked up your phone.

You [12:34]: I couldn’t sleep.. did I wake you up?

Hongjoong [12:35]: no, I’m still in the studio🥲why can’t you sleep?

You sighed yet again, trying to come up with an excuse that wasn’t utterly embarrassing to type out. Before you could answer him, your phone buzzed again.

Hongjoong [12:36]:  do you want me to call you?

It was as if he could read your mind. You quickly sent him a yes, and put your phone down to wait for him to call. It only took a few seconds. After waiting for a few seconds, trying to figure out when the appropriate amount of time had passed to answer, you pressed ‘Accept call’ and held the phone up to your ear.

“Hi, baby.” Hongjoong’s voice was raspy like he hadn’t spoken for a long time.

Baby. The nickname had slipped out so casually that you almost didn’t realize that he had said it. Now it was all you could think about. Hongjoong didn’t call you by pet names often, they’d slip out in the heat of the moment and he’d get shy. He could suddenly go from slightly irritated over you touching something in his studio, to a flustered mess because of you teasing him about calling you babe. You would never get tired of it.

“Hey, am I interrupting?” You brought your hand up to your mouth, biting down on your thumb’s nail.

“No, I’m packing up for the night soon.” He sighed, and you could hear him push his chair away from his desk. “I’m sorry for not coming over today.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” you murmured. “Work is important.”

“Not more important than you,” he countered a little too quickly. “I’m working on work-life balance. I promise.”

“I know.” You chuckled under your breath. 

The line went quiet for a moment. You could hear his breathing - soft and steady - and you could picture him, sitting in his chair with a large hoodie draping over his frame. A mixture of comfort and disappointment flooded your veins. Comfort from hearing his voice, disappointment from not being able to hear it in person. Hongjoong cleared his throat, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know…” you trailed off, but shortly thereafter continued, “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

His words lingered in the air, and you closed your eyes to savor them. A part of you wanted to yell that if he missed you so much he should try to be here more, but you knew it wasn’t fair. It’s not his fault. You shut your eyes tighter, bowing your head down as if to curl into yourself, and tried to hide from the angry feeling bubbling up in your stomach. Tears started stinging in your eyes, and, despite your efforts, a weak sob made its way past your lips.

“Y/N…” You could hear the frown in Hongjoong’s voice. “I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” you lied as you wiped away your tears. “I promise, I’m not. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

The line went quiet again as you sniffled. You could hear shuffling from his end, as he gathered together his things. As you pieced everything together, you quickly tried to protest - telling him that he didn’t have to come over and that you really were fine.

“Stop it.” His voice was shaky. “I’m coming over, and you can’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t trying to-”

“I know.”

“... could you stay on the phone with me until you get here?” you asked quietly, your voice coming off as weaker than you wanted it to.

“Of course.”

You grabbed a tissue and wiped your face from tears and snot, and the realization of what you were doing hit you then. It felt stupid to cry over this, but it had gone too long since you had seen him. The urge to cry, kick, and scream was overwhelming - but you kept it inside your chest with a deep breath. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled. “I really didn’t mean to pull you away from work.”

“I know, it’s okay,” he assured you. “I’m heading to the parking lot now, it’ll only be a few minutes.”

A few minutes until you get to see Hongjoong. You could wait just a few more minutes, right? Despite the assurance that he’d be here soon, the empty feeling in your heart didn’t dissipate. In fact, the cavity in your chest only grew larger. You knew he wouldn’t get here for a while, but you still got up from your chair and walked over to your front door.

“How long has it been since I got to see you?” you thought out loud.

“I think it’s been a week already.” Hongjoong groaned. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, okay? I knew what I signed up for with you.”

It was meant as reassurance, but it came out wrong and you cringed as soon as the words left your lips. Hongjoong laughed, making you feel just a little lighter on your feet. You heard the jingling sound of his keys, signaling that he was already near his car.

“That came out wrong,” you said.

“It’s okay, I get it.” You could hear him open the car door. “Let me put you on speaker, hold on a second.”

You leaned against the wall and listened to the rustling sounds of Hongjoong getting into his car and putting down his phone. The engine started, and he stayed quiet as he focused on getting out of his parking space. The parking lot must have been almost empty because it didn’t take long for him to get back to you.

“Alright, I’m on my way now!” he chimed.

“Thank you, baby…”

“Baby?” he teased, laughing as he finally got to take revenge on you.

“Shut up-”

“No, I deserve this,” he argued. “You never call me pet names, I’m taking advantage of it.”

“Well, now I’m never doing it again.”

He gasped on the other side of the line, and you could practically hear the fake-hurt pout on his lips as he muttered something under his breath. No matter the situation, Hongjoong could always find a way to make you smile.

“I teased you once and now you’re revoking my pet name privileges?” He scoffed. 

You liked him like this. It made you forget about everything else; this was the actual Hongjoong, and only you could witness it. In one slow movement, you slid down onto the floor and crossed your legs. With your head leaning against the wall, you looked up to the ceiling and smiled.

“I thought you didn’t like the mushy stuff,” you said, “I would include pet names in that.”

“I don’t dislike mushy stuff… I just get shy,” he admitted quietly.

“You don’t seem very shy when you go on stage,” you countered.

“That’s different!” he exclaimed, and added with a hushed voice, “I just get shy around you.”

Your smile grew wider. You wanted to tell him that you got shy around him, too, and all of the other things he made you feel - but you couldn’t find the words. His words were saved in the back of your mind, for you to think of later and come up with something equally heartwarming.

“I’m almost there,” he said to break the silence, and you could hear the clicking sound of his blinkers as he was probably driving up to the car park already.

“Good,” you said. “Hongjoong?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll stop teasing you for calling me nicknames,” you said, “if I get to keep calling you ‘baby’, too.”

“Deal.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “I’m getting out of the car now, baby.”

A laugh bubbled up your throat. Partially because of his silly tone, but also out of pure excitement. Your giddiness was apparently contagious, as Hongjoong let out a giggle as well - and you could hear the echo of his shoes hitting the concrete floor as he sprinted towards your building.

“I’m almost at the elevator!” he whisper-yelled.

“Hurry!”

He swore under his breath, clicking the button to the elevator multiple times. Eventually, you heard a ding and the doors opening. He was so close. You wanted to run out of your apartment and meet him halfway, but you knew that his being here was already a risk in itself. So you settled beside the door, no longer sitting on the floor. And when you heard the keys you had given him unlock the door, you quickly opened it and pounced on him. He stumbled back slightly, pressing ‘End call’ on his phone before hugging you back. With your arms still wrapped around him, he walked into your apartment and closed the door behind the two of you. Only then did he fully embrace you. You buried your head into his coat, cold from the chill air outside but it smelled like him so you didn’t mind. Your hands balled up into fists, creasing the soft material of his coat, and you pulled him even closer to you. Hongjoong’s chin found its rightful place on the top of your head. 

“I’ve missed you,” he repeated, and you felt your tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks again. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” His voice was trembling now.

As you tried to get out of his grip to look at him and comfort him, Hongjoong put his hand on the back of your head. He held you in place, soft enough to still allow you to leave if you really wanted to let go but firm as if he was silently begging you to stay. So, you stayed and pretended not to notice the tears that fell from his eyes and hit the top of your head. He shifted to kiss the top of your head and gave you one last squeeze before letting you go. You watched as he wiped his tears with his sleeve, quickly as if you wouldn’t notice. For his sake, you pretended that you didn’t.

“Have you eaten?” you asked.

“I ate some take-out for dinner.” He bent down to take off his shoes. “If you’re hungry we can eat, but I just want to go to bed with you.”

Yes. Bed. The concept that had seemed so daunting before now felt like a long-lost dream that had come to life. He stood back up, and you took a long look at him. He had colored his hair, you had seen pictures but you hadn’t seen it in person yet. Blonde always did suit him. He was busy taking off his coat while you watched him. It hadn’t settled in your brain that he was actually in front of you, it felt unreal.

“So?”

“Hm?”

“Are you hungry?” he asked with a smile. You had really missed that smile.

“Oh. No, I ate earlier.” You held out your hand to him. “Let’s go to bed.”

He took your hand gleefully and followed you like a puppy who’s just been promised a walk. You brought him to your bedroom. It was clean, and the bed was still made from this morning. While Hongjoong sat down on the edge of your bed, you pulled out some of the clothes that he had left there - an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, that you desperately didn’t want to give back.

“I’ve been looking for this,” he hummed as you gave him the clothes. “I didn’t know I had left it here…”

“I, uh… I may have stolen it.” You sent him your best smile, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“You’re cute.” Was all he said before he went into the bathroom to change.

You had the sudden urge to follow him - and, despite what he would think and tease you for, it was not with sexual intent. Now that you finally got to see him again, you couldn’t stand him leaving even for a second. However, you stood your ground and decided to fix up the bed instead. You removed any throw pillows, and pulled down the covers. Just as you got into your side of the bed, Hongjoong came back from the bathroom. He left his clothes on a chair, before he all but ran to your bed. When he had gotten under the covers, he shuffled closer to you and began peppering your face with kisses.

“I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you…” he muttered between every other kiss.

You laughed until you were gasping for air, but you didn’t dare lean away from him. As he planted a final kiss on your lips, you let out a low hum of approval. Hongjoong pulled you closer, letting you snuggle up against his chest. It was almost impossible for you to stop smiling. As it settled in your bones that he was actually there, right in front of you, you finally relaxed.

“I want it to be like this all the time,” you admitted.

“Me too,” he murmured. “I’m sorry it’s so complicated.”

“It’s okay,” you hummed. “I guess it makes times like these more special.”

“I’ll try to make a plan for the future, okay?” he said. “I’ll talk to the company and we can figure something out. We could find a good apartment and-”

“You want to move in with me?”

“Yeah, I love you.”

Maybe it was the fact that it was late, or maybe he hadn’t been sleeping a lot since you last saw him, but the words slipped out of his mouth so casually that you almost didn’t register that he said it. You looked up at him. He was still talking about his plans, not having realized what he had said. Putting one of your hands on his face, gently cupping his cheek, got his attention. His words faltered and you brought his lips to yours for a chaste kiss.

“I love you, too.”

At first, he just seemed shocked, but you could see the gears turning in his head. When he finally remembered what he had said, his face was practically glowing in the dark. He quickly tried to explain how he was very tired, and that he was going to make the moment more special but he had forgotten. You simply smiled and put your head on his chest again, the action silencing the man lying next to you again.

“Keep telling me about your plans,” you said.

You never like waking up without him, but especially not when you are supposed to be on a romantic getaway together. With lazy steps, you walk around the room until you find Seungkwan's suitcase. He doesn't like it when you steal his clothes without asking first, but he would have to accept that now. You put on an old t-shirt of his, and find your own pajama shorts lying somewhere on the ground. The fabric was cold against your naked skin, but you pushed on.

Walking down the wooden staircase of the beach cabin is difficult when you aren't completely awake yet. The stairs are steep and you are still dizzy with sleep, so you clutch onto the railing as hard as you can. Each step creaks and croaks under your feet, and you have to keep your eyes down to make sure you don't miss a step. As you successfully reach the bottom of the stairs, you also succeed in waking up Bookeu.

Your search for Seungkwan continues, now with Bookeu walking around your legs. The beach house is small, and it doesn't take long before you've looked into every room - but Seungkwan is still nowhere to be found. Then, Bookeu must have heard a noise because he starts sprinting toward the door to the back porch.

When you slide open the door, you're hit with a nostalgic chill. It isn't cold, just enough for you to wake up properly. Spring is here. Peeking your head around the glass door, you find Seungkwan sitting on the bench lined up with the wall of the house and staring at the ocean. He's wearing a warm fleece and has a blanket pulled over his lap - a sense of calm washes over you at the knowledge that he's at least not cold. The sun is halfway up now, painting your lover with a golden hue. Bookeu runs out on the porch and up to his owner, silently begging him to lift him up. After doing so, Seungkwan looks over at you with tired eyes.

"Good morning," you say. "Do you want coffee?"

Seungkwan, looking solemn, simply nods a yes. You smile at him before heading to the kitchen. From the kitchen window, you can see the top of his head. It's slightly hidden behind a plant, so it's no surprise that you didn't notice it before. The coffee machine is old, and it takes long for the drip coffee to finish. Enough for the sun to have fully risen above the horizon. You wash a couple fruits in the meantime, setting them aside in a bowl before looking around for a knife. The day you have already spent here isn't enough for you to know where everything is.

When the coffee is finally ready you bring two cups of it, along with the bowl of fruit, out to the porch. There's a small table in front of the bench, so you put the things down there. Seungkwan is still just looking out over the water, and Bookeu is sitting in his lap. After handing him his cup, you just stand there. You hesitate to sit down, not knowing if this is supposed to be his alone time. He seems to sense your hesitation and quickly pulls the blanket up as an invitation for you to sit down. When you do, he puts the fluffy fabric over your legs.

"Good morning," he says. "Sorry for leaving you in bed."

"It's okay."

Seungkwan wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to him - and when you put his head on your shoulder, he puts his head on top of yours. Bookeu, who had grown a little bit antsy, jumps down from Seungkwan's lap and runs back inside. You can hear him run around the kitchen, his paws making happy little sounds against the wooden floor. You take the opportunity to hog a little bit more of the blanket, and Seungkwan lets you - pulling at it and making sure that both of your legs are covered properly. He's definitely noticed that you stole his shirt now, but he doesn't say anything.

"Why did you come out here so early?" you ask.

"I couldn't sleep," he admits, "and watching the ocean was comforting."

"You should've woken me up," you murmur as you snuggle closer into his side.

"You looked so peaceful, I just couldn't." Seungkwan presses a kiss on the top of your head before loosening his grip to put down his cup. "Why the fruit?"

"Have you eaten yet?"

"... no." He shuffles around in his seat, making you lift your head from his shoulder.

"Then it's for you."

You watch as he picks up the bowl, holding it gently in his hands. There are a few grapes, a couple apples and oranges, and strawberries. The knife balances on the edge of the bowl, and Seungkwan picks it up and hands it to you along with an apple.

"Can you peel it for me?" he mumbles.

Without another word, you take the items from his hands and start peeling the apple. Laying the sharp edge of the knife against the waxy skin of the apple, pressing down hard enough to break the seal but not to cut into its flesh. As steady as you can, you move the knife around the apple - creating a spiral of fruit peel. Seungkwan watches your hands intently, careful not to disturb the process.

The waves crashing against the shore in the background force you into a rhythm, only to be broken by Bookeu's high-pitch bark. You had only managed to peel half of the apple when the skin broke. Still, you held it up proudly to Seungkwan - and he ooh-ed and aah-ed at the spiral-shaped peel. With a small smile, you continued to peel- Seungkwan now had his chin on your shoulder, giggling whenever you messed up. His breath tickled against your exposed skin, as your shirt had its collar stretched out with age. His laughter made you giddy, only making it harder for you to peel the fruit in your hands.

Eventually, you had peeled the entire fruit. Its white flesh now laid bare for you, and you cut into it with the knife. Cutting out a big chunk of the juicy apple, you hand it to Seungkwan for him to eat. He takes it happily, bringing the piece of fruit to his lips and putting the entire thing in his mouth. You laugh as he grimaces at the too-big piece. Next time, you cut a smaller piece - which he chews with more ease.

You feel warm under the blanket, contrasted with the salty, chilly air. Nevertheless, you welcome the breeze as it gives you an excuse to get a little closer to the man next to you. You keep feeding him fruit, and he wraps his arms around your torso - keeping his head on your shoulder to watch over your hands, making sure that you're careful with the sharp knife.

When the apple is nothing but a skinny pit, you put it on the table, and pick up a strawberry from the bowl. Seungkwan presses a kiss to your cheek, his lips slightly sticky from the fruit juices but you don't mind. You carefully take off the hull before cutting the red berry in half. The halves look like hearts, and you happily show Seungkwan.

"Here." You give him one of the halves. "You can have my heart."

"You're so corny," he huffs but takes the strawberry anyway. "Then that's my heart, right?" He motions to the other strawberry half before putting his berry half in his mouth.

"Of course."

"Good." He sits up straight. "You better not be eating anyone else's heart."

You snort at his comment but eat the heart-shaped strawberry anyway. Its sweetness coats your tongue, and you close your eyes for a moment to savor it. When you open your eyes again and look over at Seungkwan, he's staring at you. His hair is a mess, he probably hasn't looked himself in the mirror yet today, but you only find it endearing. His hand finds yours, and you quickly intertwine your fingers with his.

"Thanks for sitting with me," he murmurs.

"Thanks for letting me," you say. "It's the perfect way to spend a Sunday morning."

"What?" you croaked.

"Baby..." Jeonghan whined, his voice was hoarse. "I know it's late, I'm sorry... but can you come over?"

"I'm not going to come over at two in the morning to have sex with you." You groaned and put your arm over your eyes as if you could shield yourself from the rest of the world that way.

"Y/N, I'm sick." He coughed to emphasize his words. "I need your help."

"My help? How?"

"Soup..."

You guffawed, sitting up in your bed. Even when he annoyed you, Jeonghan could still make you smile. It somehow made you even more annoyed.

"You want me to make you soup?"

"I have the ingredients, just not the energy." He cleared his throat. "I know I've barely talked to you all day, and I'm sorry... I woke up with this awful cold, I've barely been out of bed all day."

You couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Putting your head in your hand that wasn't holding your phone to your ear, you sighed. Were you about to give in to him once again? Yes.

"I'll be over in a few minutes..."

Unlocking the door with the key Jeonghan had given you some time ago, you walked into the dark apartment. The only light was coming from the kitchen, where a cloaked figure was sitting on one of the chairs by the small dining table. When you closed the door, the sound of the click made the figure turn towards you. Under the dark blanket, Jeonghan's face stuck out. Even from the low light from the ceiling lamp, you could see that he looked sick. In the time it had taken you to kick off your shoes and take off your jacket, Jeonghan had approached you. With the blanket still over his arms, he engulfed you in a hug - wrapping you up in the blanket as well.

"Thank you for coming," he mumbled into your ear.

"You owe me," you hummed as you patted his back.

"I know." Jeonghan pulled away from you.

"So, what kind of soup have you been trying to make?" You walked around him to get to his kitchen, Jeonghan staying close behind you.

"Just chicken and veggie soup," he said. "I had all the things for it in my fridge, but-"

"No energy." You nodded.

Jeonghan had pulled out a few things from his fridge; vegetables, chicken, and broth. You pulled up your sleeves and went over to the sink to wash your hands. While you were turning the nozzles on, Jeonghan came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your mid-section.

"Thank you, baby." He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

"Just go rest, Hannie," you muttered. "I'll bring you a bowl when it's ready."

Despite your command, Jeonghan stayed. You didn't tell him to leave, he had made his choice, but as you kept working you found that you didn't mind. Sometimes he stood in a corner, giving you space to cook the chicken and chop the vegetables. However, when you were simply stirring the soup he came up to you. Just like before, he wrapped his arms around your mid-section and buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" you asked.

"I didn't want to bother you," he murmured.

"Asking for help isn't a bother," you said, "unless it's two in the morning, then it's a little different."

"... I'm sorry."

You turned your head over your shoulder, looking at your sick boyfriend with a frown. Usually, he'd joke with you - competing over who could be more sarcastic - but now he was apologetic. He must have been more sick than you thought.

"Hannie, I'm joking," you deadpanned.

"Oh..." He cleared his throat. "You can't joke with me like that when I'm sick. My brain isn't working well."

You scoffed at his whining, going back to stirring the soup until the noodles had softened. Getting loose from his grip, you walked over to his cabinets and got out two bowls. Jeonghan went over to sit by the dining table, and you followed him to put the bowls there. You went back and forth between the table and the cabinets, setting everything up to have a nice meal. Once everything was done, you brought over the pot. Jeonghan clapped his hands slowly under his blanket, his eyes fixated on the soup.

"You really wanted soup, huh?" You picked up his bowl and poured some soup into it with a ladle.

"I've been surviving on whatever leftovers I had in the fridge, and a few ice creams," he explained. "And that's only when I felt like actually getting out of bed."

"Jeonghan..." You sighed. "You really should have called me. I would've helped."

He played around with the spoon in his bowl before bringing the hot soup up to his lips. Hissing at the burn against his lips, he quickly put the spoon down.

"Blow on it first," you warned.

Jeonghan pouted, picking up the spoon again and holding it with the handle towards you - silently asking you to take it. With a sigh, you sat down. You couldn't resist his pout. After pulling the chair closer to him, you take the spoon from his hand and put the spoon in the soup. Sinking the spoon under the surface of the liquid, you watched as it quickly filled up the small surface. You brought the spoon to your lips and blew on it slowly.

"Say 'ahh'," you told him.

He did as you said, opening his mouth until you had put the spoon in. An approving hum came from behind his closed lips as he closed his eyes. You put down his spoon again. When you tried to fill up your own bowl, Jeonghan tapped your shoulder.

"What?" you asked.

He pointed at his open mouth again, and you rolled your eyes... yet still picked up his spoon for a second time. This went on for some time. You eventually got soup in your own bowl and went in between feeding him and feeding yourself.

After cleaning up, and leaving the dishes in the sink for you to take care of in the morning, the two of you went into the bathroom. In silence, you brushed your teeth. Jeonghan had gotten you another toothbrush to keep at his place. He had gotten it without you asking - surprising you with it when you used the lack of a toothbrush to end your stay. He always had something up his sleeve, which you'd usually call annoying but in truth you liked that about him. It was exciting to never know what he might pull. Seeing him like this, dull with big bags under his eyes, was heart-wrenching.

The blanket was still wrapped around him. Although, now it had fallen on his shoulder and you could see the mess of his hair. With his hair getting longer, it needed proper taking care of. Opening one of the cabinets, you quickly found his hairbrush. You beckoned him over, making him crouch down a little. Jeonghan let out a giggle as you began brushing his hair - starting at the ends and working your way up to the crown of his head. It wasn't a difficult task, seeing as Jeonghan kept still. While brushing his hair, you noticed how cold he was despite the sweat on his neck.

"You're really sick, aren't you?" you muttered. "... do you want me to draw you a bath?"

"I could really get used to your pampering..."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

While Jeonghan was in his bath, you went into the bedroom to change his sheets. From time to time, Jeonghan would whine and you'd come into the bathroom to help him with something; helping him wash his back, bringing him a glass of water, and anything else that he needed. Eventually, you brought him in a change of clothes and brought him new towels to dry off with. As soon as he was out of the bathroom, you got him into the newly made bed. You pulled the covers over him and sat down next to him, putting your hand on his forehead.

"Still warm," you mumbled and tried to remove your hand, but Jeonghan started whining.

"It's nice," he murmured. "Your hand is cold."

"I could get you something to put on your forehead if-"

"No, this is good," he assured you.

"Hannie." You sighed. "I have to leave sometime."

Jeonghan looked up at you with eyes that could kill. That you would even dare suggest that you'd leave him in this condition! The gall!

"You need rest. I'm just going to sleep on your couch, I'll be with you in the morning," you explained, but he still didn't look happy.

"Sleep here." He patted on the spot next to him.

"I can't-"

"What if I need your help in the middle of the night?"

"You won't-"

"What if I have a fever-induced nightmare?"

"Jeonghan-"

"Just stay."

"... what if I get sick?" you questioned. "We can't both be sick."

"I'll be better by then. Then I can take care of you," he said matter-of-fact.

With a big sigh, you walked around the bed and got in next to him. He snuggled up against you, putting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. The smell of his shampoo caused all of your muscles to relax.

"Thank you for coming over." Jeonghan yawned. "And for making me soup."

You hummed in response, as you began playing with his hair. The two of you stayed like that until you could hear Jeonghan's soft snores. After that, you could comfortably fall asleep.

Minghao had been smart, he had looked at the weather report and wore light, but many, layers. You had looked at the sunny day, felt the air for a little bit through your window, and deduced that a thick sweater would be all you needed. You were deadly wrong. You had tried to focus on Minghao’s warm hand, but not even the butterflies in your stomach could make you forget how cold you were.

After shivering for a while, you came to a halt when Minghao suddenly stopped walking. Without a word, he let go of your hand to shrug off his jacket. You watched him with a wrinkle in your brow, trying to figure out what he was doing. He wrapped his coat around your frame, and you finally understood.

“You don’t have to…” you said but didn’t make much more of a protest against his kind act.

“Of course I do.” Minghao helped you get your arms into the sleeves of his coat. “There you go.”

He looked at you with a warm gaze and, even though the jacket helped a lot, it was enough to make you heat up again. After fixing the collar, he held out his hand for you to take again. You gladly accepted the offer, and the two of you started walking again.

“Won’t you be cold?” you asked.

“I’ll be alright, I have my scarf.” He proudly motioned to his scarf. “Besides, I was getting cold from just looking at you shivering. It’ll be much better for me like this.”

“If you say so.”

Minghao hummed and pulled you a little closer, your arms now touching from time to time as you walked

✦ .

While the walk in the forest had been idyllic, the journey back definitely wasn’t. As soon as you left the metro station, it started raining. People were lined up at the edge of the metro station, except for the lucky few who had brought umbrellas with them. Minghao squeezed your hand gently, gaining your attention.

“This isn’t stopping any time soon.” He sighed.

“Definitely not.”

“Should we run for it?”

“... sure.”

Minghao grabbed your hand even tighter, and the two of you ran through the streets. The rain was freezing cold, hitting your face like small icicles. Nevertheless, neither you nor Minghao stopped smiling and laughing because of that. 

By the time you got home, you were drenched - leaving water stains all over the floor of the entrance of your apartment building. Your hand was still gripping his tightly, and you had no plans of letting go. The two of you walked in silence, still gaining back your strength from the bad weather, and made your way to the elevator. You didn’t have to tell Minghao which button to press, and the doors closed quickly thereafter. The elevator took you up the apartment complex, and as you were nearing your floor you settled in a bitter-sweet feeling.

“Do you want to dry off a bit at my place before you leave? Maybe wait until it’s stopped raining?” You looked straight at the doors of the elevator, not daring to look at the man beside you. “... I wouldn’t mind having you around for a while longer.”

“I don’t think I can.” He squeezed your hand and you could feel his eyes stare holes into your skin. “Even though I want to... I have an early day tomorrow.”

You knew that it was already starting to get dark outside, and you wished that time could move just a little bit slower.

“Next time?” You finally met his gaze, and it sent a jolt of fireworks to the pit of your stomach.

“Next time,” he promised.

The doors to the elevator opened, and Minghao walked you to the door. You still hadn’t let go of his hand, you didn’t even think to do it. After unlocking the door and opening it, you turned to him again. He was still smiling like he had before - warm and caring.

“I had a really nice time,” you said.

“So did I,” he answered.

It was quiet. You were just looking at each other. But it was okay to just stand in silence with him. He was like a safe space. Always welcoming and never judging. Much to your dismay, his grip on your hand loosened until only his fingertips held onto yours.

“I should leave,” he murmured, glancing down at your lips.

You leaned a little closer, and he took a little step forward - both of you closing the distance as much as you could without making any too hasty movements. Minghao’s hand finally let go of yours, but you were soon reconnected with his touch as he cupped your cheek. Your noses were touching, but he didn’t close the gap. Taking the last step, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. It was a short kiss, some might even say it was just a peck, but it left your entire body tingling. He wasn’t nervous or overly cautious at all, he just needed your permission. Minghao stole another kiss before stepping away. You put your hand on the door handle while he walked backward to the elevator.

“Text me when you get home,” you peeped, not knowing what else to say.

He looked amused by your flustered state but nodded and replied with an “alright” before walking into the elevator. As soon as you heard it go down, you leaped into your apartment and slammed your door shut with an outburst of giddiness. Dancing around the hallway, you suddenly come to the realization that you’re still wearing Minghao’s jacket. You take it off carefully, feeling the thick fabric beneath your fingers, and put it up on the hanger. 

✦ .

You hadn’t been dating Minghao for very long, and you hadn’t been able to meet as often as you wanted to, but everything seemed to be going so well. He was the kind of guy you had been dreaming about… which is why you hadn’t been able to let yourself fall for him. You toyed with the idea of letting go of your emotional restrictions, but your past experiences wouldn’t let you. In your mind, you still had to be careful no matter how kind and loving Minghao was. Still, when you see his text show up on your home screen you can’t help that your heart skips a beat.

The next day you woke up with a stuffy nose, an explosive headache, and a dull ache in your entire body. Even turning to pick up your phone was a chore, but you had to call in sick somehow. You spent the morning in bed, only getting up to go to the bathroom and get something to eat. Everything was either too hot or too cold; you couldn’t find a good balance. So, of course, you ended up napping for most of the day.

The buzzing sound of your phone on your bedside table woke you up from your slumber. It had only been a few hours, but it felt like it had been several days since you first got sick. You looked at the caller ID and your eyes widened as you saw Minghao’s name. Clearing your throat the best you can before answering, you tried to make yourself sound like you weren’t sick.

“Hello?” you asked and cringed at how rough your voice was.

“Hi… are you okay?” The background noise of the city slightly muffled Minghao’s voice.

“I’m okay!” You tried to make it sound convincing, but you weren’t very successful. 

“Are you sure? You sound like you have a cold.”

“I’m just fi-” Before you could finish your sentence, your body betrayed you by sneezing. “I’m fine…”

“Sure…” he said, “Listen, I was just calling to ask if I could stop by to grab my coat but I can grab some food for you. Maybe soup?”

“Oh, you don’t have to! I can hang your coat outside my door, you can pick it up without getting close to me.” The words were pouring out of your mouth. “You shouldn’t have to get sick because of me- I know that you’re busy-”

“I’m not busy right now. Text me what you want and I’ll get something for you, I’m on my way to a grocery store.”

“Thank you.” You let out a sigh. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you right now.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would do. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

The knock on your door was expected, but still made you jump. You were standing right beside it, you hadn’t been able to sit still on the couch while waiting, but when he knocked you slowly counted to five in your head before opening it. There he was, in all his glory, dressed in sweats, a knitted cardigan, and his glasses sitting low on his nose - still managing to look put together, even when his hair had been ruffled by the wind. Minghao’s face lit up as he saw you, and he held up a plastic bag of goods. You welcomed him inside, taking the bag from him, and watched as he took off his shoes. When he stood up, his eyes were met with his coat.

“Ah, perfect,” he hummed. “I’m sorry for intruding on you like this.”

“It’s okay, you’re not in-” Your sentence was cut off by a cough forcing its way out of your throat.

Minghao’s eyes were filled with pity. He took the bag back from you and helped you over to the couch. Once you sat down, he covered you in a blanket and put his hand against your forehead. His hand was cold, and you leaned against it.

“You’re burning up.” He sighed and removed his hand from your forehead. “I’ll go prepare this soup for you, is that okay?”

“I can do it myself, Hao, I don’t want you to waste your time-”

“I think I’m spending my time very wisely,” he said, “But if you want me to leave I will, of course.”

“... I’d like you to stay.”

“Good.”

Once your heart had settled, and as you watched Minghao working in your kitchen, you noticed that he looked a little tired. Maybe he just had a rough day or didn’t sleep well last night, but you were worried for him. Just as you opened your mouth to ask him about it, he turned around to see you staring.

“Where do you keep your spoons?” he asked.

“That drawer right there.” You pointed. “The top one.”

He looked and let out a satisfied “Ah!” when he found it. You smiled and continued watching him cook, your worries slowly fading away.

✦ .

You and Minghao ate on opposite ends of the couch, a random movie playing in the background on the TV. Every so often, you’d sneak glances at him - and only get caught when he was already looking at you too. Then you’d smile at each other awkwardly and go back to watching the movie. There was comfort in sitting in each other’s presence but also a lingering tension that was impossible to deny. It had started raining again. In the quiet parts of the movie, you could hear the pitter-patter of the raindrops against your windows. The sun had gone down too, the only light now was coming from the TV. You looked down at your bowl, which only had a few scraps left, and put it away on the table. Minghao had already done so a while ago. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Minghao tore his gaze away from the screen to look at you, slightly confused. You motioned to the bowls and he brushed it off.

“It was nothing, I’m glad I could help.”

“Still. I’m happy you stopped by,” you said, “Otherwise I’d probably just eat cereal for dinner.”

He moved closer to you, slow enough for you to tell him not to, and put his arm around your shoulders. You shuffled even closer to him, despite a nagging voice in your head telling you that you shouldn’t be getting him sick, and Minghao put his head on your shoulders. When you put your head on top of his, you could feel him relax and put more of his weight against you. The movie came to an end, and the credits rolled, and suddenly the apartment was dark. Neither of you moved, you didn’t dare to. Your fingers crept towards his, and he met you halfway. Trying to navigate in the dark, you fumbled around with your hands before eventually intertwining them. Minghao squeezed your hand, and you squeezed his hand back. You could feel him smiling against your shoulder. But then he started shuffling around, trying to get up.

“Don’t go,” you whined. “You’re so warm…”

“If I stay here, I’ll never get up,” he said, “And I have to do the dishes.”

His head left your shoulder, but you refused to let go of his hand. Minghao turned to you, still smiling. You could barely see the outline of his features in the dark, even when you focused as hard as you could. He leaned his forehead against yours, and you let out a soft sigh at the warmth coming back to you.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you hummed. “Tomorrow.”

“You won’t be sick tomorrow?” he asked.

“No, you’ve cured me.”

Minghao let out a short laugh and moved to place a kiss on your forehead. You hesitantly let go of his hand and watched as he walked away to the kitchen. He turned on the light, creating a warm spotlight right above him. With the light surrounding him in this way, you thought he looked like an angel. And maybe he was. An angel sent just for you, to care for you and keep you warm. 

You watched his back as he did the dishes. The way his shoulders moved, how he went from resting on one hip to the other, and how his hands, somehow, elegantly put the dishes on the rack. With the blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders, you made your way over to the kitchen. Your arms wrapped around his midsection, and you put your head against his back. Listening to his breathing, you could tell that there was something wrong.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“I’m good now that you’re here,” he joked with a flirty tone.

“No- I mean, are you sick? Your breathing…”

You were cut off by Minghao trying, but failing, to hide his cough. The pieces were falling together; his tired eyes, how warm he was, and now the cough.

“Oh no, I’m sorry- did I get you sick?” You let go of him and tried to get a look at his face by standing beside him.

“I was sick before I came here,” he explained but you weren’t listening.

“You shouldn’t be doing the dishes, let me take over, please. Here, you can have the blanket- why don’t you go sit down?” You tried to take off the blanket, but Minghao grabbed your wrists.

His hands were still wet, so he quickly let go of you. But he had managed to stop your racing thoughts. You pulled the blanket tighter around you again.

“Leave the dishes in the sink, please. I’ll take care of it later,” you murmured. 

Minghao sniffled and put the leftover dishes away before drying off his hands. You smiled at him, silently thanking him for listening. Then, you grabbed his hand and brought him back to the couch, and gave him another blanket.

“I’ll go change my bedsheets, you can sleep there tonight. I’ll take the couch.” You went to leave, but he didn’t let go of your hand.

Instead, Minghao pulled you back down to sit on the couch with him. He looked shy, for once, and wouldn’t hold your gaze for very long.

“If you don’t find it uncomfortable… Could you sleep in the bed with me?” he asked.

He was playing with your fingers, looking down at what he was doing. You smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Sure.”

After changing the bedsheets, you told Minghao to come join you in the bedroom. You didn’t have many clothes that he could borrow, but you found him a shirt that he could wear to sleep. It was dark again. The two of you were lying under the sheets, with at least another person’s worth of space between you. You were on your back, staring up at the ceiling, and you could only assume that Minghao was in the same position. 

“I was tired all day, but now I can’t sleep,” you whispered.

“Me neither,” Minghao whispered back.

You shuffled around, trying to find a better position but you ended up giving up rather quickly. You could hear Minghao turning to lie on his side.

“Could I…” he mumbled, “Could I hold you?”

You nodded, but realized that he probably couldn’t see you, and whispered out “Okay”. Minghao shuffled towards you, and you met him halfway. It seemed to be a theme between the two of you - things were never out of balance. When his arms met your waist, and he pulled you to lay against his chest, you felt your muscles slacken and your mind went blank. Your arms wrapped around his midsection, and you tried to pull him even closer. Minghao let go of one of his arms from you, for just a second, to pull the covers up around both of you. Now that everything felt right, the two of you lay in silence. Neither of you could fall asleep still.

“Thanks for coming over today,” you whispered.

“I wanted to see you again…” he said and added, “The coat was just an excuse.”

“Good. I wanted to see you too.”

You lay in silence again. Minghao started drawing small patterns on your back with his fingers, and you nuzzled your face closer to his chest. He smelled faintly of roses, or something else floral, and of your detergent - but you knew that was just from your shirt. He smelled like comfort. And his body was so warm, which you now knew was partly because he was sick, and it was finally the perfect temperature for you. Minghao let out a soft sigh, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“I have a hard time sleeping when I’m sick,” he murmured, “But when we were on the couch before - when I was leaning my head on your shoulder - I almost fell asleep immediately.”

You hummed in response, already feeling drowsy.

“Are you asleep?” he asked, and you shook your head. “If this is what it’s like being sick with you, then I don’t think I mind it one bit.”

“Will you stay tomorrow?” you whispered.

“Of course.”

✦ .

You didn’t know when you had ended up passing out. Something about Minghao’s presence, and his running hands on your back, put you in a trance. When you woke up, you were still in the same position. The sheets were a little bit more wrinkled, and your hands might have been in different positions but you couldn’t tell. Minghao was still asleep, and his grip was loose around you. You managed to get up easily, but immediately regretted it. Your apartment was freezing, one of the downsides of fall. Tip-toeing over to the closest piece of clothing that you could wrap around your bare arms, you picked it up and immediately recognized it as Minghao’s cardigan. You looked over at the still sleeping man in your bed, and decided to steal it from him - just for a little while.

While you were still sick, you were feeling better than the day before. So, you decided to make breakfast as a thank you to Minghao for making dinner last night. It wasn’t fancy, but it was the thought that counted. When you brought it into the bedroom, balancing it carefully on a tray, you found Minghao already awake. He smiled as soon as he saw you, but had to turn away to cough as you put down the tray on your bedside table.

“Good morning,” you said.

“Good morning,” he answered in between coughs. 

You gave him a glass of water, which he gladly accepted. While he was drinking, you put your hand on his forehead. You had about the same temperature, but you knew that you had a fever as well. Minghao groaned when you pulled your hand away, immediately trying to get closer to you again. You took the half-empty glass from his hand and put it on the tray. He had his head on your chest, breathing softly against your skin. Forgetting the breakfast, you made yourself comfortable in bed and tried to make him more comfortable. Minghao started fidgeting with the cardigan you were wearing.

“Is this mine?”

“... yes.”

He smiled and pressed a skin on your clavicle, silently accepting you stealing his clothes.

The clicking noise of the recorder made you stand up taller - a Pavlovian habit from years in your field. Every interview you had ever recorded, all of the voice notes you had ever taken, flashed before your eyes at the sound of that click. It reminded you of what you were about to get yourself into. 

Looking in the mirror of the elevator, you began fixing subtle things about your appearance. Meeting an idol, even if he was an automaton, was nerve-wracking. These automatons were created and revamped to perfection. It was nothing like researching lower-level automatons. Level three’s, and even two’s, didn’t have the same resources to stay so perfect. Interviewing and inspecting a level one automaton would essentially be like meeting a newly made robot - one without imperfections. That’s why you agreed to this job in the first place, even if it was repetitive busy work. You bounced on the heels of your feet, trying to find an outlet for the pitter-patter in your heart. The elevator dings and the doors open. Your smile fades when you’re met with the white room. A grayish, dull, white color. There was no personality, and barely any furniture despite the size of the room. The sight confused you; automaton or not, everyone you had interacted with throughout your studies had a home that reflected themselves. Nevertheless, you stepped inside - determined to find the robot that you had received a picture of. He was handsome, as most automata were - brown hair, warm and inviting eyes, but his smile was as dull as the room The lights were glaring, with an annoying blue hue - but the bright light made it easy to see the group of robots in the room. 

“D1N0?” you called out.

One of the automatons present turned to you, responding with a shy nod. You recognized him from the photo. What captured your attention first, what stood out, was the mark between his collarbones. Some sort of device, in the shape of a diamond, seemed to be attached to his skin. This wasn’t something you had seen in other automatons. You walked up to him with a professional smile and held out your hand to shake. He gave you a confused look before slowly putting out his hand as well as if he were unsure of what to do.

“Pleasure to meet you, D1N0-”

“You can say ‘Dino’,” he interrupted.

“Alright,” you said and repeated, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dino. I’ll be doing some research with you. I won’t be too invasive, just going to ask you a few questions and run a few tests from time to time. You’ll be seeing me around for a while now.”

Dino nodded and turned his back to you, leaving you stunned.

+:★:+

He was reserved around you. There was a big difference in how he spoke to you and how he spoke to the other members. When Dino was alone with the other automata, his smile was brighter and he conversed with a lot of hand movements. However, as soon as he knew he was being watched he would turn back to the reserved version of himself. No matter how much time you spent with him, you couldn’t push down his walls. It was clear that he didn’t trust you, but you couldn’t figure out a reason as to why.

Dino was never a bother to anyone. He was the opposite. Always helpful, and always ‘happy’, and you would never catch him getting into a real fight with anyone. There was playful fighting within the group, but you never saw it get serious for him. He was the youngest but there was something about him that made him seem older. When he was with his group, he was spirited. However, when he was left alone his demeanor changed. You would watch him through a camera and frequently see him sit down in a corner of his room. He wasn’t crying, or angrily mumbling to himself, he just seemed numb. There was no emotion in him, his form seemed lifeless. You couldn’t find a way to bring it up in your interviews, but the image of him hugging his knees to his chest never left you.

Each interview was the same. You would ask him questions about the emotions he had during the week, ask him to evaluate what could have brought him to those emotions, and then end it with general questions. Every other week, you got to analyze his coding. You knew this wouldn’t be a very interesting job, you were just supposed to find regularities in the automaton’s behavior. So, you didn’t need to dig deeper than you had - but you wanted to. 

+:★:+

“Weekly check-up,” you said as you put the recorder on the table between you and Dino, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

You pressed the record button and made sure that the light turned on before you looked at your notes. Dino was fidgeting with his hands. The very human response to nervousness didn’t surprise you. After doing so much research with lower-level automatons, you came to understand that their actions were very human. Nevertheless, seeing Dino, an idol, being nervous seemed strange to you.

“How have you been feeling this week?” you asked.

“Watched,” he answered bitterly.

“... right.” You took a deep breath and looked through your notes again. “Do you mind if I go off script?”

“... go for it.” His interest piqued ever so slightly, but he remained stoic.

You put away your notes and turned to him. The only way to get him to trust you was if you could make him feel less watched, is what you thought. So, you turned off your recorder and put it to the side. You’d have to rely on your memory for this conversation.

“Let’s just talk,” you said, “I asked you how you are, now you get to ask me a question.”

Dino stared at you dumbfounded. It was clear that no human had ever treated him like this, and you could already feel yourself peel back the layers of his personality. Surely, there had to be more to him than hope and despair.

“What’s your job here? You said you were doing research but you never said what kind.” He leaned forward a little, letting his arms rest against the table.

“I have my degree in philosophy and cognition,” you admitted. “I don’t get much use for the first part of my degree, my research is primarily focused on the second one. I’m here to see how your ‘brain’ works.”

“Why don’t you get to use the first part?” he asked quickly.

The question threw you off guard. You sat back in your seat, looking down at the table in front of you. Dino’s hands were on the table, lying completely still on the surface. They weren’t fidgeting anymore. His entire stature had changed, now leaning forward slightly - eager to hear your response. But you were stumped.

“There’s just not a lot of job offers.” You put your hands right in front of his. “Most people don’t need philosophy unless in a historical context.”

“... could you explain to me what it is?”

Dino didn’t meet your eyes, and he started fidgeting again. You put one of your hands on top of his in a soothing manner. It was something that always worked with others, but Dino jumped at your touch. You had forgotten where you were for a moment and quickly gathered yourself after your act of emotion.

“Maybe another time. Is it not my turn to ask a question?”

The two of you went back to your normal interview style, Dino being slightly more comfortable to answer now.

+:★:+

After that interview, you were taken aside by one of the managers. He took you to a closed room. It was dark, the only light coming from the slight gap in the door. You couldn’t see his expression, but you had a feeling it was stern.

“We ask you to avoid certain topics with D1N0 from now on,” he said in a cold tone, “We’ve had issues with this one before, so we’ve made a list for you.”

You disliked how he referred to the automaton but decided not to speak on it. Instead, you accepted his list and walked out of the room. It was a yellow-stained white sheet of paper, the edges folded as if they had handed it around haphazardly. You wondered how they came to find out about your conversation with Dino when you hadn’t even recorded it, and you made a mental note to check the room for cameras next time.

On the paper was a list of topics you needed to avoid. Anything about the Earth as it was before the “Great Journey”, anything surrounding the topic of other planets, and any details on what you’re doing at the facilities were prohibited. The list continued, but you didn’t bother reading the entire thing. 

Even with this setback, you managed to build a rapport with Dino. The two of you discussed his emotions and he let you test his psychological responses to certain hypothetical events. As you kept talking to him, the more you came to understand him - but it also made you think that the research you were doing may be an invasion of his privacy. It never occurred to you before, but the automatons you were studying never agreed to be studied. It was a middle-man who had given you the OK, who had given you instructions of what to do, and you had never heard anything from the automatons themselves. You had managed to build a friendship with Dino, but he had still not agreed to your research. So if he hadn’t agreed yet, did you have the right to do this at all? As a result of these thoughts, your work grew sloppy. You “forgot” to record from time to time, and your notes were practically unreadable. Despite your efforts to hide this, Dino had started catching on.

“Shouldn’t you be recording this conversation?” he asked.

“Ah. Right.” You reached for your recorder.

“You didn’t record our last check-up either,” he hummed.

“... I just took notes later. It’s fine, Dino.” You turned on the recorder. “There. It’s on.”

Dino gave you a strange look, he seemed confused but somewhat relieved. The diamond-shaped shiny emblem between his collarbones caught your attention. He caught you looking and shifted his shirt to hide it. There was something he wasn’t telling you about that, but you understood why - his managers were clearly always listening in, and you suspected it had something to do with that mark.

“Alright, let’s begin.”

+:★:+

You never found a camera in the office, so you thought that there might be a hidden mic. However, no matter how much you looked you found nothing. In your small “office” there weren’t many places where one could hide a mic. It made you start growing weary of your situation. Everything was suspicious. So, the device between his collarbones became your next obsession. Whenever it was on display, your eyes would fall on it. There had to be something special about it - you had never seen a lower-level automaton with it before, but all of 53V3NT33N had them from what you had seen. Working in this place was draining you, for reasons that you never imagined.

You were sitting in the automata’s common area, which was currently empty due to them being away at an event, and waiting for Dino to come back. It was time for another interview. The pen kept slipping into your sweaty palm as you tried to write down some notes. Most of it was about the situation you found yourself in - the moral dilemma of your subject having zero autonomy. It was all scribbles, looking back on it. You could barely read your own handwriting. The pain in your stomach grew as time passed, and your tension headache stayed strong. 

“Have you been waiting long?” Dino’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

After a deep breath, you looked up at him with a strained smile, answering that you hadn’t been waiting long at all and that you had just gotten there. No one else was behind him. He had to have been the first one to get back. 

“You look ill,” he said, “Are you alright?”

“I’m just fine, Dino. Do you want to start your next interview?”

The two of you walked to your office and sat down. The short walk there hadn’t helped your sickly state, in fact, it only seemed to make it worse. Being closer to the office made you more anxious, and being even more anxious made your already stressed-out head even worse.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dino asked again.

“I’m just a little stressed.” You sighed. 

“About me.”

“No, not about you… Well, yes about you.” You put your things to the side and hid your face in your hands, “But I can’t talk about it, so don’t ask.”

“I won’t,” he hummed. “... I used to be stressed about this too. I didn’t like that you were prodding around in my thoughts.”

It was the first time you had ever heard him open up, and it felt horrible. You knew you had to report this, but you just didn’t want to anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered out.

As a sort of peace offering, he reached his hand out across the table. You put your hand in his and let out a breath that you didn’t know you had been holding in. His hand was warm. Even though your hand was sweaty and cold, his gentle smile didn’t change. 

“It’ll be okay,” he said.

“I hope so,” you hummed. “I don’t want you to act any differently around me after this - don’t feel sorry for me. I’m still a person you can come to if you need help.”

“I know.”

The day everything changed was when one of the automata of 53V3NT33N, 5.C0UP5, had enough. You were in your small office, the room where you would conduct your interviews with Dino when you heard the alarm go off. At first, you were calm. You went to go out through the door, but it was locked. The ID card you had gotten didn’t work. The panic started settling in, and you began throwing yourself at the door until your arm begged you to stop. The blaring sound of the alarm was never ending and it was making your already clammy hands slip on the door handle when you grabbed it. Your heart was beating quickly in your chest, and your throat began closing up. The alarm continued, and you were left with nothing. It was almost comical how quickly you gave up and gave in to your fears. With shaky legs, you went over to your table and crawled under it, pulling your knees up to your chest and putting your hands over your ears. It went on for what felt like hours, but you weren’t counting. Something had happened, something bad enough that they needed to lock down the facility and sound the warning bell. You thought of the possibilities - a fire seemed unlikely, they wouldn’t lock you in, but some sort of break-in could be the case. If so, you were happy to stay underneath your table with your hands over your ears. This thought, however, made your blood as cold as ice when a big thump sounded against your door. Someone was throwing themselves against it. You scrambled to your feet and went behind the table, taking a chair to hold up in front of you. When the door broke open, you shut your eyes tight. 

“Are you okay?”

Although breathy, you recognized the voice. When you opened your eyes you were met with the soft brown eyes that had greeted you on your first day here. A million thoughts ran through your head; Why was he here? Did he have something to do with the alarm? How did he get here on his own?

“I’m fine.” Was all you could muster.

You stared at each other. Dino was holding the door open, and the alarm was still blaring, but every need to get out left your body when you saw him. You almost smiled. When the dust had settled, and you had found your words again, Dino motioned for you to follow him.

“What’s happened?” you asked as you walked around the table.

“We’re escaping,” he admitted, “S.Coups he… I have no idea what’s happened if I’m being honest- I don’t even know why I left Mingyu and Seungkwan… shit.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You reached out to him.

Instead of jumping at your touch, this time he invited it by closing the distance. Your hands fell on his arms, trying to soothe him with gentle motions of your thumbs. Dino didn’t know what to do with his hands, flailing them around before finally letting them hang by his sides.

“Just tell me what we need to do.”

“... we’re escaping,” he repeated, “I want you to come with me.”

Your eyes widened, but for some reason, you didn’t question it. After the months you had spent here, you had realized that your perspective of your work had been flawed. For some reason, you trust that Dino has your best interest at heart. You trust him. It was risky, but you were willing to go through with it. You grabbed Dino’s hand and let him guide you out of the room. However, as soon as you left the sanctuary that was your office, your thoughts started racing - especially about the people who might be watching you at this very moment. You stopped Dino by pulling on his arm.

“Wait.” Your eyes fell upon the mark on his clavicle, “We need to get rid of that.”

Dino’s hand fell upon the device, watching in horror as you went back to your office to grab something sharp. When you came back with a mechanical pen Dino quickly put his hand over his chest.

“It’ll hurt. I’ve tried before.”

You looked at his hand that was covering the mark. It was slightly cupped as if he was trying to avoid touching it. You reached out to his hand, putting your hand on his wrist. Dino’s arm tensed up under your touch.

“If we don’t do it I think they’ll find us,” you explained, “This… thing is somehow linking you to your managers, we have to remove it.”

Dino lowered his arm with much hesitation, behind his eyes you could see him debating your words in his head. There was nothing else you could tell him to convince him, this would have to be his own choice. So when he took the mechanical pen from your hand, you tried to not let out a very obvious breath of relief.

“Could I just… crack it?” he asked softly.

The look in his eye, combined with his shaky voice, made you give in almost too easily - Dino could probably convince you to do anything at this point. So, even though you knew it was a bad idea - you took the chance.

“... we’ll risk it.”

You watched him feel for the device on his clavicle, making sure that he knew where to aim. Dino was a decapitated rabbit, pushed to the side of the asphalt, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the scene. No blood spurted when he started cracking it, but his soft groans and sobs still reminded you of a slaughter. His stabs at himself were relentless, to the point where you had to physically restrain him once you saw the low light of the device go out. You got his hands away from his chest and put yourself between him and the pen - hugging him as if he would disappear if you let go. Dino’s body went limp. He let go of the pen and dropped it on the floor. You didn’t bother picking it up. Instead, you maneuvered to his side and took one of his arms around your shoulders for him to walk. 

“If I’m right we’ll run into guards soon…” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. “You need to cover up the.. thing. I’m going to try something.”

Reaching the door to the last building before the exit, you began preparing yourself to pull off the most important lie you would ever tell. You made sure that Dino could stand on his own before you opened it. On the other side, you found a guard waiting for you.

“Authorization?” he asked.

You showed him your card.

“And what are you doing with D1N0?” he asked while looking at your card.

“I caught him trying to escape, I’m bringing him to the back while the managers sort out the issue.” You grabbed Dino’s wrist. “I’m in charge of him as a researcher. I know his behavior better than anyone, I know how to handle it.”

“I’m not questioning your capabilities.” The guard handed you your card back. “There’s a room a bit further down the hall to your right, a laundry room. I’ll come get the two of you when the situation has died down. There’s a manual lock, so make sure to lock the door behind you.”

You were surprised at how easy it was to pass, but you couldn’t think of it further when you finally got past the guard. The only objective was to get out. Dino stumbled behind you as you pulled on his arm to hurry up. The corridor seemed endless, but it wasn’t long before you had made it to your destination. When you reached the door with the sign “LAUNDRY” on it, you stepped inside and locked the door behind you as the guard had said. It was almost halfway to the exit door. However, you couldn’t leave the room without causing suspicion. You turned to Dino, who had slumped against a few bags of laundry. Inside the laundry room, the sound of the alarm wasn’t as loud as it was outside. A mix of the humming sound of the washing machines and the well-isolated walls created a barrier around you. You looked around the room, trying to find anything to help your escape.

“Windows,” you whispered to yourself.

Up high on the wall were barred windows. The bars were metal but were small enough that you might be able to see through them with something sharp. You began climbing on the washing machines to get to the windows, and when shaking the bars you noted that they weren’t anchored well enough.

“Dino, can you help me?”

When you didn’t get a response, you looked behind you to see the automaton passed out on the floor. You hadn’t even considered that he could still be in pain, but seeing him unconscious sprung you into action. After climbing down from the machines, you propped Dino up against the bags of laundry. In any other setting, you would’ve been freaking out - but the adrenaline of being so close to freedom kept you alert. 

“You have to wake up, Dino. Come on,” you mumbled as you tried to bring him back to consciousness by lightly shaking him.

The only response you got was a flutter of his eyes and a hum. You sat down beside him in defeat. He was too weak, at this moment, to help you with the bars anyway. Moreover, how were you going to get past security looking the way you did? It was useless. Dino would have to go back to captivity, and you’d be found out for trying to help him escape.

“I thought you were selling me out before…” You heard Dino whisper from beside you.

“I’m not evil,” you replied and scoffed at the thought. “But I don’t think it mattered anyway.”

Dino fell silent, and you almost thought he had gone unconscious again until he moved. It was a slow movement toward the wall, right by the edge of one of the machines where the bags of laundry were lying. You got up and crawled up next to him. He was fidgeting with wires.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to electrocute myself,” he said as if it were obvious.

You quickly pulled his hand away from the wires by his wrist. He glared at you and strained against your grip.

“Do you have some sort of death wish? You can’t escape so now you have to kill yourself?”

“I won’t die.” He sighed and shuffled closer to the wires. “I’ll get a jolt of energy. I’ve done it before, during concerts… not with a washing machine, of course, but it’ll do.”

“These aren’t grounded, you know? You’ll get full voltage,” you argued.

“You’re forgetting I’m not human.”

His words, and your desperation, made you let go of him. However, you couldn’t watch while he actively tried to hurt himself, so you turned away from him. Your eyes fell on a pile of clothes. Guard uniforms. While Dino kept trying to electrocute himself, you gathered clothing articles that you thought might fit you and the automaton - putting your new clothes on once you had found everything you needed. The uniforms were gray, and in the same style as other guard uniforms from other facilities - meaning that you could sneak around the city and be seen as two guards going home from work.

A loud snapping sound, followed by a shriek, woke you up from your thoughts. You turned to see Dino standing up - seemingly fine, but with a burn mark reaching from his pointer finger, up his arm. 

“What do you need me to do?” he piped.

You couldn’t find any words, deciding to just hand him his clothes instead. Dino pulled the overalls on without any problems, although you noticed that he favored using the hand without the burn mark. When he had zipped himself up and put on his cap, he turned to you for further instructions. 

“We don’t have all day,” he said when you didn’t answer.

“... are you alright?”

“Don’t worry about it. This energy won’t last for that long, so if you want to make it count you’ll tell me what you need done.”

The cold air hit your lungs as you were gasping for air after falling out of the window. Your escape wasn’t graceful by any means, but you had made it to the other side of the wall. Dino, who had just climbed out right after you, helped you back on your feet. The two of you made haste across the yard, to the gate. The other guards must have been kept busy because there was no one around to check your IDs. But once you had made it past the gate, you still couldn’t relax. There was always a chance of someone recognizing you. So you went to the only place you could consider a safe haven. 

+:★:+

Your apartment was small and cramped with books and other things you had collected over the years, but it was a good enough hideout. It was on the outskirts of the city and was hidden between two tall buildings. Dino crashed as soon as he got through the door. His energy had started fading after walking for a while, but he had tried his best to work through the pain - you could tell from the way he would grip your shoulder for balance now and then. You hooked your arms under his armpits and tried to pull him towards your bed, but you only managed to get him halfway through the room. The once cramped and tiny apartment had turned into a grand hall, the bed seeming further away than it was. With a sigh of defeat, you let him stay on the floor and brought the pillows and blankets to him. After making sure he was as comfortable as possible, you went over to your kitchenette and wet a towel to clean up his hand. You hadn’t gotten a good look at his hand yet, he had kept it in his pocket this entire time, and you began feeling nervous at the thought of what gore you might find. But when you pulled up the sleeve of his jacket, you saw that his synthetic skin had mostly healed. His fingertips were charred, but using the wet towel got some of the soot off. The areas that hadn’t healed had a purple hue, looking sort of like a bruise. While you kept cleaning up his hand and arm, Dino started gaining consciousness again and began mumbling something incoherent.

“Don’t talk,” you said.

“... charge,” he muttered.

As it processed in your brain what he needed, you stood up and rummaged through your things. In the company facility, the idols’ beds were created to also function as chargers. An automaton has to recharge, but these contraptions were unlike anything you had seen. Lower-level automata have other devices, some of which you had collected after your many years of working with them. You found a gadget that looked like a blood pressure monitor, with an arm-cuff made of metal. The cuff opened easily, only being held together by a magnet. You clasped it around his arm and turned on the device, a small blue light showing up on the monitor. Dino let out a breath of relief.

“Are you alright?” you asked, but never got a response.

The light from the ceiling lamp flickered and you looked around yourself. The apartment was dusty since you had been living at the company facility during your research. Everything was as you had left it. It only made Dino stick out more. This stranger didn’t fit in your usual routine. You hadn’t spent much time just looking at him before. Now that there was nothing else to distract you, you spent time studying his features. He was beautiful, but you knew that. Each of his features fit together harmoniously - his soft and rounded eyebrows, his pouty lips with the soft cupid's bow, it all contrasted so heavily with his strong gaze. After sitting still for so long, just looking at him, you finally started relaxing. Your shoulders slumped and you rubbed your eyes gently. Your bones felt heavy; you couldn’t control your body anymore, letting exhaustion take over and laying your head on his chest. Dino was mostly covered by a blanket but you could still feel his body warmth. It soothed you and you fell asleep almost immediately.

You woke up with a stiff neck that morning. Dino still wasn’t moving, but the light on your device indicated that he was still charging. He looked peaceful and relaxed, the kind of expression you’d only see on him if he was with his teammates. Getting up from your place on the floor, you moved over to your kitchenette. There were still a few edible items in your cupboard, mostly dried fruits. After making sure your stomach wasn’t empty, you returned to helping Dino. The skin on his hand still looked mostly healed, so you spent your time making him comfortable - moving the pillow under his head and tucking him in better. As you were moving your hand away from his chest, you remembered the device between his collarbones. You went to look at it, pulling down the collar of his shirt. There were a few pieces of the device missing but most of it was still intact, just cracked. When you went to touch it, Dino’s hand grabbed your wrist. You hadn’t noticed that he had opened his eyes, but he was looking right at you. 

“Don’t touch it,” he said.

He only let go of you when he felt you retract your hand. You wanted to apologize but kept your mouth shut. There were no words that your brain could voice. Your shoulders slumped and you put your head in your hands. Everything began crashing down around you - everything that you had built for yourself was about to be ruined. What were you doing?

“I’ll get out of here once I’ve fully recovered,” Dino said, as if he could read your mind, “You can tell people that I forced you to help me or something, you don’t have to go down with me.”

He was offering you a way out. You looked up from behind your hands. Dino’s eyes were closed again. Even if you told people that you were forced to help him, you wouldn’t go without punishment. You could contact the people you knew in Phylaca, and maybe warn them that you needed their help beforehand. Letting him leave on his own would mean that you could start to make your life normal again.

“You can stay with me if you want.” You hear yourself speak, but you can’t process your action or its meaning.

Dino stayed quiet, and it made you restless. Standing up, you walked over to one of your bookshelves - pulling out a few books and putting them on the floor. Each of the books was covered in a layer of dust but otherwise, there were no markings of age on the covers. The shiny books created a wall in front of a small hatch in the wall. When you pulled on the wall opened sideways, revealing a small room filled with more books. These books were worn, tucked close together to fit as many as possible but still leave room for a crawlspace.

“What’s that?”

Dino had sat up, the secret room catching his attention. He stood up and walked over next to you, letting his charger hang by his side.

“It’s my real library,” you said and turned to him, “This is where I keep the important stuff. I know you had questions that you couldn’t ask back there… but you can now. You can stay and we can find- I can help you find your answer.”

He stayed quiet for a while, looking up at the ceiling light. 

“My answer,” he repeated to himself.

+:★:+

Dino spent most of the time resting. When he wasn’t resting, he would walk around as much as he could in your small apartment. You didn’t speak much to each other, but you caught him looking over at the hatch in the wall frequently. Now that you didn’t have a script to follow, you had no idea how to talk to the automaton. All you could do was read, sleep, and run short errands. It was when you got back from one of those errands, grocery shopping, that you found him in front of the hatch. He was trying to get it open.

“Do you want to read something?” you asked.

He looked like a deer in headlights when he realized you were there. Backing up from the wall, he muttered a short apology. You walked over to the hatch and pulled it open, crawling into the small space.

“What do you want to read?”

“Anything.”

You smiled at his eagerness and picked out a few books. When jumping out of the crawlspace, you hadn’t expected to end up so close to him. You played it off by pushing the books into his chest and quickly backing away - trying your best to hide your sudden fluster. Spending so much time with Dino in an enclosed space had made you very aware of his looks. His broad shoulders contrasted with the soft curve of his waist, and his delicate yet sharp facial structure - his entire being was so easy to be enthralled by.

“Take these. I can help you with anything you don’t understand.” You turned around and closed the secret door.

When you turned back to Dino he was still just standing there, watching you. It looked like he wanted to say something but was unsure of how to express it. You approached him, picking up one of the books, and opening it.

“These are from my parents,” you explained, “I have more but not here… and this one is about the meaning of life- maybe we should start with something a little more lighthearted.”

You picked up the book under that one. Aesthetics.

“Let’s start with this one, I think you’ll like it.”

The two of you settled down on your bed next to one another. Dino seemed more relieved now that the book was in your hands, so you started reading to him. 

Every time you read to him, he would put his head on your shoulder - trying to follow along in the text. From time to time, he’d ask questions and you’d do your best to answer. You’d read together at least once a day. Until those readings turned into lectures. It was fun being back in your academic element, but it surprised you just how clueless this all-knowing automaton was. The automata were supposed to know everything, yet he seemed surprised by everything that you told him about Earth as it was before - the questions that used to irk the philosophers of that time, he had never heard of. 

The first time you were almost caught was when you were at home, where you were supposed to feel safe. You didn’t think much of it when you got a call from your former boss. A few days ago you had sent in your resignation, with the reason for your departure being the traumatic event of the escape. You assumed he wanted to talk about your time at the facility, and maybe if you could know where Dino might be - questions which you had already thought of answers to. But after exchanging pleasantries came an announcement which you were far from ready for.

“I know that you sent in your resignation, so I’m sending someone over to collect any data that you may have. D1N0 and some of the others have still not been found, so we’re hoping that your research might help us.”

“Someone’s coming here?” You looked over at Dino, who was staring at you wide-eyed.

“Yes, in just a few minutes. We don’t want to intrude, but we need whatever data you might have brought with you.”

“Sir, I didn’t take anything home with me-”

“We’d still like to… check.”

The CEO’s change of tone made you put two and two together. They were going to check if Dino was with you or not.

“Of course, sir. Whatever you need.”

He hung up and you immediately started panicking. Without saying a word, you started putting away any illegal books and the uniforms you had stolen into the crawl space. “What are you doing? What did he say?” Dino asked, referring to the CEO.

“You need to get the fuck in there,” you hissed out, “Someone’s coming over here, I don’t know when-”

There was a frisk knock at the door. Your body froze and your eyes widened. It was as if every moment of your life flashed before your eyes. It was only the second knock at the door that startled you awake.

“Get in,” you whispered to him.

Dino crawled in and sat down as comfortably as he could, and you closed the door behind him. Any trace of your illegal activities was hidden away safely, and you did your best to cover the wall as naturally as you could. There was another knock on the door.

“I’m coming, just-... Hold on!”

The “inspection” of your things went by quickly. You hadn’t lied when you said that you didn’t bring anything from the facility - if you didn’t count those uniforms and an entire fucking automaton. So the worker never found anything, even though they ruined your place. When they left, you made your way over to the secret door again.

“Get your things, we’re leaving,” you said as you opened the door to the crawl space.

“What?”

“We’re leaving, we have to move now!” You ushered Dino to get out.

While Dino was gathering a few things - a charger, a few clothes, and a backpack to carry it all in.  After grabbing a few necessities, the two of you were out the door. Dino hid under a large hoodie and a cap, and you decided to do the same. Adrenaline was pumping through your chest as you ran down the stairs, almost forgetting to lock your apartment door behind you. 

+:★:+

You and Dino traveled incognito. The underground metro system helped you stay in the shadows and avoid the amount of guards you’d usually see above ground. However, you knew you were never really safe. Not until you reach your destination. It took half a day’s train ride, and the other half walking off the road to reach where you needed to be. Dino didn’t say much. He was way too busy just looking at everything - it was clear that he had never been in nature before. While it was rare to see large fields and thick woods completely undisturbed on Earth, there were a few spots just like this. The big field you had to cross to get to the woods was usually a walk you dreaded, but with Dino with you, it felt more like a pleasant promenade. He was almost skipping through the grass, happily touching everything he could, and even picking a few flowers here and there. There weren’t many, seeing as it was so cold outside, so his bouquet was mostly weeds. But it made him happy. 

Before you reached the woods you stopped to remove the last few pieces of Dino’s tracker - which was rather unprofessionally done with a pair of old tweezers that you found in the bottom of your back. The device was attached to him with strings that looked like nerve endings. Even though you thought the painful thing was long over, Dino had to bite a piece of fabric to keep him from ruining his teeth. No matter how careful you were, you couldn’t stop his pain. You buried the pieces in the ground once it was over, hoping that no one would come across the remains. After covering up the wound, Dino stood back up and took a deep breath. 

“This is like a new beginning, isn’t it?” he mumbled.

“If that’s what you want.” You patted the ground where you had buried the pieces.

“It is,” he said.

You looked up at him and smiled. He was fidgeting with the flowers that he had just picked. A cold breeze blew past the two of you. After you had gotten back up, Dino crouched down and put the flowers over the patch of dirt. When he got back up, there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t understand - a sort of acceptance mixed with sorrow. He was leaving his entire life behind, the only family he had ever known. 

“We could try finding them again,” you whispered.

“I know I’ll see them again. Someday.” Dino looked over the field he had just walked across. “But I’m ready to live now.”

“Let’s go.” You reached out your hand for him to hold.

The forest was dense, with tower-like trees growing where they pleased - creating a natural labyrinth that was easy to get lost in. Unless you knew the woods. You held Dino’s hand as you walked over roots and rocks, avoiding anything that might leave you lying face-first on the ground. Even though most of the leaves were gone, it was hard to see the sky through all the trees. So you kept your eyes focused on your goal, and all of the walking became worth it when you reached the small cottage. A small stone building with overgrown ivy all over the walls - it looked like it was falling apart, but you still felt relief at the sight. 

“It’ll need some work done,” you said, “But it’s better than getting captured and being sent to Phylaca.”

Saying the name of the planet sent a chill down your spine - as if you put a curse upon yourself by uttering the word. Phylaca was an unofficial death sentence. You had done research there before, and even then you could feel your energy being drained by the place - your only light at the end of the tunnel was the people you worked with.

“It’s pretty,” Dino hummed, bringing you back to reality.

You walked over to the small pot in front of the door and looked under it. The key was still there. It was difficult to get the key in the lock, and you had to jiggle the handle around to get the door to even move. When you opened the door, the smell of mold and dust hit you. The cabin was small and the wooden floors were creaky - just as you had remembered it. Walking into the small entry hall, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. You remembered running across the floor, slipping around as your father chased you - laughing loudly and not being scared that someone would hear. After taking off your shoes you walked into the living room. Everything was covered in white sheets, which you were quick to start ripping down. Moth-eaten blankets were laid on the backs of armchairs, waiting for you to wrap them around your shoulders when the cold would start creeping in through the walls. Nothing compared to the feeling you got sitting on the couch with your parents as a kid, watching the flames dance in the fireplace while you huddled together under these blankets. You kept walking through the cabin, getting to the small kitchen. There you put your backpack, right by the pantry so that you’d remember to unload the food you had brought. In that kitchen, there had been loud music playing, and your parents forgot whatever they were cooking to dance together. Love was the main ingredient of every dish you ate in this place. Dino put his bag down next to yours, clearly confused about his place in this house. He didn’t fit in all of these memories, but you’d make sure to find room for him.

“We should take a look at what our bedroom situation is,” you said, “I don’t think either of us will fit in my old bed, but we can make do. Then I can show you my parents’ library.”

“... did you spend a lot of time here?” he asked.

His question brought back even more memories, those that you had pushed to the back of your mind. You motioned for him to follow you over to the dinner table. The wood of the chairs creaked under your weight, screeching in surprise after years of not being in use. You felt the cold tabletop under your palms, following the small cracks on its surface with your fingertips. 

“We used to come here every summer,” you explained, “Then… things happened, and we spent a few years here together. Me and my parents. It was only when I got to a certain age that we moved- I can’t remember their reasoning, but they thought it was for the best that we left.”

Dino looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was quiet - maybe he was unsure of what to say, or he didn’t find it necessary to reply. You watched him explore your childhood home from his place on an old stool.

“They left most of their belongings here,” you continued, “I think they knew that they wouldn’t need them once they left.”

“What happened to them?”

“... I’m not sure.” You thought about it for a while, tracing back your steps from the moment you knew that you had lost them. “I was old enough to take care of myself at that point. I was living on my own, studying. At a certain point, I just stopped hearing from them. Their apartment was no longer theirs, someone else had moved in there. They were erased. Forgotten.”

The warmth of Dino’s hand was comforting on top of your hand. He wasn’t good with words, and you knew that. However, he could still comfort you. You knew that he was there for you - he was the only one there for you right now. He smiled at you, and you returned the gesture before standing up.

“That’s enough about me.” You walked around the table. “Let’s go find some somewhat whole bedsheets.”

+:★:+

Time passed quickly as you cleaned the cabin. The sun had already started setting when you got there, so it was pitch black outside by the time you had fixed the place up. There was still much to be done, but you had time for that later. Both of you were tired and ready for sleep. The day had been chilly, and it only got worse as the sun went down. You had lit candles to see where you were going, but they didn’t make you any warmer. Chills like electric shocks attacked you when you laid down in bed, even though you were wearing thick layers. All you could do was shudder and wait for the warmth to come. Dino got in next to you, although reluctantly. Your old bed was made for a child, and could probably fit one person - if that person wanted to risk falling through the bedframe in the middle of the night. The wood was old and worn out. This was your only option. It was annoying at first, but you were thankful for it as soon as you realized how warm Dino was.

“Are you not cold?” you asked him in a whisper.

“Not really,” he answered in the same hushed tone, “Are you cold?”

You nodded, scared that your teeth would chatter if you tried to talk. While you couldn’t see his face in the dark, you could tell that Dino was going over something in his thoughts. A few seconds later, he opened his arms for you. Without question, you crawled into his arms. He was warm, making you melt into him. 

“Why are you so warm?” you mumbled against his shirt.

Dino didn’t answer, but you weren’t looking for an answer anyway. Your arms wrapped around his frame, pulling him even closer like he was a big teddy bear.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

That night, Dino didn’t sleep. Truthfully, he didn’t need to - he just had to charge. But you had offered him a place to lay down anyway, which he was thankful for. And he tried to close his eyes and float away into unconsciousness, but he couldn’t. Usually, he would have no trouble drifting off to a sleep-like state while charging, but he couldn’t when you were so close. He could tell when you had fallen asleep, your body going completely limp in his arms. Although it felt weird, he rubbed soft circles on your back with his palm. When he closed his eyes, it felt like everything else was gone. It was just you and him amid nothing. No time, no space, just you in his arms. He liked that feeling - too much, he thought. It was the first time he had ever experienced this kind of contact. And although the position he was in was uncomfortable, he didn’t dare move. He listened to your soft breaths, he could feel the air against his neck. From time to time you would move in your sleep; moving your head ever so slightly, putting one of your legs on top of his, and trying to hold him even tighter. Dino had felt special before. Special in the sense that millions of people wanted to watch him perform on a stage. Seeing them sing, or even dance, along to the music always made him feel special. This was just a different kind of special, it was personal. Happy couldn’t begin to describe his state of mind. He was free.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

That morning you woke up in almost the exact position that you had fallen asleep in. Dino’s eyes were still closed so you tried to move away carefully to not wake him, but his hands gripped your shirt tightly.

“Are you awake?” you whispered.

Dino’s eyes flew open as he realized that you hadn’t just been moving in your sleep again. His grip on your shirt loosened, but you didn’t leave just yet.

“Good morning.” You shuffled around a bit to get more comfortable.

“Good morning,” Dino mumbled back.

He looked anywhere but into your eyes. Seeing him so nervous, and even embarrassed, almost made you laugh - but you held it in for his sake. You put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, finally getting him to look you in the eye. 

“Is the charger still working?” you asked.

“Yes, it’s working fine,” he answered rather formally.

“That’s good.” You nodded and sat up. “We should start up our cleaning project again, there’s lots to get done. Then, if we have time, we’ll find something to read together. Maybe something fictional this time? I think we’ve earned it.”

The two of you got to work right after you had something to eat. You dusted off everything, cleaned the floors, and moved things around to your liking. This wasn’t your dream home, far from it. It didn’t even have running water or electricity - you had to get water from the nearby river and light candles as soon as it got dark. But once you had finished cleaning, and everything was to your liking, you started seeing a new home in this cabin.

As promised, the two of you sat down to read at the end of your day. You were sitting on the couch, using the last bit of sun shining through the window as your lamp, with the book right between you. Instead of you reading out loud, the two of you were reading silently together. Whenever Dino had finished a page he would nod, signaling that it was okay for you to turn the page. You were at a part of the book where a couple is looking at their newborn child, trying to figure out a name for the baby. Dino had been looking at the same paragraph for a long time, not letting you turn the page.

“Is everything okay?” you whispered so as not to startle him.

“... do you think I can have a different name?” he asked.

You shifted in your seat, turning to face him. His eyes stayed on the same paragraph. Although your biggest light source would shortly disappear behind the horizon, you took your time to think about what he said. The importance of a name; it’s a form of identity, after all. If the only name Dino has ever known was given to him by those who made him miserable, a part of him must still feel that way. The way that his eyebrows were knitted close together as he read the same sentence over and over again made you think that must be the case.

“Have you been thinking of new names that you’d like to try?” you asked.

He turned a few pages in the book, looking at what the two of you had just read. When he found what he had been looking for, he pointed his finger right under the small text. Chan.

“Would this suit me?”

“I think it fits you perfectly, Chan.”

His face lit up when he looked back at you. You hadn’t seen him smile like this before. It was a beautiful sight. 

“I like the way you say that,” he said, “Chan.” He tried out the feeling of the new name in his mouth and seemingly decided that he liked it. 

A smile was practically forced upon your lips as he repeated his new name over and over again, trying to find every way he could pronounce it. He laughed, realizing the absurdity of what he was doing.

“You have to say it again, I think I’ve forgotten what it’s supposed to sound like,” he said.

“Chan.”

+:★:+

Days passed and everything was perfectly still in the cabin. You and Chan would go on walks together in the forest, read as much as the sun allowed you - and try to keep going with the light of a flickering candle once it got dark. Whenever you were low on food, or when Chan needed a new charger, you had to walk to the nearest market. It was half a day’s work, but it was worth it.

Every night you would sleep close to Chan, stealing his body warmth to protect yourself from the cold darkness until morning came. At first, you apologized for it. But when you did Chan would only hold you closer. 

You started making new memories in the cabin. Certain traditions were kept. Like when you finally managed to find the old record player, you made sure that you and Chan would spend as much time as possible dancing in the kitchen together - something that he seemed to enjoy as well. 

“You need to keep your hand here.” You took his hand and put it on your waist. “And I’ll have my hand on your shoulder- you’re a dancer, you should know this.”

“I never had to do ‘couple dances’-” He cut himself off with a laugh. “I’m definitely going to step on your feet.”

The kitchen was full of lit candles, your old record player doing its best to play the unknown tracks, and you were in the middle of it all. You didn’t know the song, but that wouldn’t stop you from dancing. Laughter filled the room as the two of you swayed around slightly off-beat. Chan was looking down at his feet the entire time, trying very hard not to step on your toes. You were too busy looking at him, studying the small lines on his face that came from his smile. His hand was gripping yours tightly, and he tried his best to keep his other hand on your waist while still leaving a respectable amount of space between you.

“Am I doing it right?” he asked.

“Here, let me help…”

You moved a little closer to him, getting a better grip on his shoulder, and your feet slotted perfectly between one another. Chan’s breath hitched in his throat when you put your head on his chest. But when he released the tension in his muscles, he rested his cheek against your temple. The two of you barely moved, except for your subtle swaying, but it was more than you could ask for.

“So this is how it’s supposed to be?” he asked again.

“Probably not,” you hummed.

“It feels right.”

“That’s all that matters.”

The two of you stayed there, forgetting about the dinner that you were supposed to make for yourself. And even though you went to sleep a little later than usual, it didn’t matter. It just meant that you could sleep in a little longer.

+:★:+

New traditions were also created. Every time you would read together, it was the person who hadn’t picked the book the previous time that got to choose your reading material. Even if that meant that either of you could be forced to read something that you didn’t feel like reading at that time. Neither of you ever thought about just reading your separate books. It didn’t feel right.

One night, after reading something particularly heavy, you noticed the thoughtful look in Chan’s eyes that he usually got whenever something was bothering him. He invited you to lay down next to him in bed, as he always did, and you accepted, as you always did. The candles were blown out, everything was pitch black. Your head was tucked into the crook of Chan’s neck, as his chin rested on the top of your head. Everything was quiet, but you knew that he wanted to get something off his chest.

“We don’t talk about what we think of the things we read about,” he said.

“No, you’re right,” you admitted. “Is there something specific you want to talk about?”

His fingers started to mindlessly rub small patterns on your back, and you tried to picture what he was drawing. Closing your eyes, you tried to imagine that his fingers were pencils and that your back was a canvas. The forms you could see in your head were mostly shapeless - things that didn’t look like anything. Yet they brought you a lot of emotion; the main one being peace.

“Mostly just- and maybe this isn’t about anything specific we’ve read about,” he explained. “But, are you content? Being here, I mean. Are you happy?”

“Yes,” you answered without question.

“How do you know?”

“It’s not something that you know.” Your hands had started mirroring his, drawing circles on his back. “You feel it. Everything is calm, there’s nothing to worry about. There’s no need to think about the future or the past - they exist, and you can acknowledge that, but they don’t matter to you right now.”

“... all I’ve ever done is dread the future.” Chan’s voice was quiet, he reminded you of a helpless animal hiding from their predator. 

“And now?”

“I still think about it… what might happen,” he admitted, “But maybe not as much? And maybe a bit happier. Whenever I think about it, it’s in a nice way... I’m worried too, but I think that’s out of habit.”

The wind howled outside the window, and you could hear the house creak in the direction it was blowing. You hugged Chan a little tighter as if it would remind him to stay there with you and not drift away in thought. It was safer under the covers than it was in his mind, and you wanted so badly to protect him from it.

“We should read something happier tomorrow,” you whispered.

The sad and worrying moments were transient and overshadowed by the happy and exciting ones. Every bad thing was an opportunity to make something good. You didn’t have running water in the house, which meant that there was no way for you to shower. There was a river outside, but it was too cold outside to swim - is what the average person would think. Instead, you made a fire in the fireplace and one person watched while the other went out to their ice bath. Once that person was clean, you would switch. This ended with both of you on the floor, wrapped up in towels and blankets in front of the fireplace. At first, it felt exposed, but after living with Chan for a while it only felt natural. You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t taken a peek at the automaton’s physique when he was outside taking off his shirt, but when you were cuddled close together it was different. It was a vulnerable moment between two individuals, and the number of clothes you had on didn’t matter - you could let yourselves exist around one another.

“Did you put on more firewood after I had gone out?” Chan mumbled.

“Of course.” You turned and looked over at him. “What? Don’t you trust that I’d do my job?”

Chan turned to you, a soft but otherwise unreadable expression on his face. You glanced at his lips, only for a second, to see his gentle smile. His hair was still wet, hanging over his eyes in strands - making you want to reach up and push it back.

“I trust you.” He was so quiet that, if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was so close, you could barely hear him over the crackling fire.

You leaned a little closer to him, your bare shoulder touching his, and you could feel his breath against your lips. When he moved his head your eyes fluttered shut, but you never felt his lips. He only leaned his forehead against yours, making you open your eyes again. 

“I trust you too,” you hummed.

His smile widened and his body relaxed, resulting in him leaning back again. Your shoulders were no longer touching, and the spot where his skin had touched yours now felt freezing cold. There was not a single thought in your head. Chan had stolen all of your words. You leaned a bit further towards him, pressing your lips on his cheek. 

“What was that?” Chan let out a soft laugh.

“A kiss,” you said.

“I know, but why?” He looked at you incredulously.

“I wanted to kiss you.”

Chan paused for a moment. Carefully thinking over your words before he moved to put his hand on the back of your head. He pressed a kiss on your forehead - smiling proudly afterward as if he had figured out something new he was allowed to do.

+:★:+

The weeks you spent with Chan were the best you had experienced in a while. Whatever the two of you were doing together, you did it with smiles on your faces. It made you realize how deeply you felt for him. He was a bright light in your otherwise dark world- more than that. Past horrible experiences were like dust in the wind to you now - there was no reason to dwell on them when you were with Chan. Maybe it was the ignorance that came with that feeling that made you so confident.

“Do you remember when I first showed you my secret library back at the apartment?” you asked, and Chan mumbled out a yes. “Well, I think that book that I showed you then - the one that was a little too heavy for a first topic - would help you figure some things out… you know, about what you said the other night.”

“... are you saying we should go back there?”

“Well, no… and yes.” You sighed. “By now they should’ve stopped looking there, right? And we could go there, get the book, and maybe get all of the used chargers back to full battery. We can’t keep buying new ones all the time.”

“... alright. I trust you.”

+:★:+

The two of you ended up going. It was the same road that you took on your way to the cabin, but on your way back it felt as if time moved faster. Neither of you spoke much, but Chan never let go of your hand. When walking through the city, he would squeeze your hand from time to time - an involuntary reaction to any noise that startled him. You kept your brave face on for him, but you were terrified too. Maybe not in the same way that Chan was but terrified.

The apartment building looked the same, reminding you that it hadn’t been that long. It felt like it had been - it felt like you had spent years with Chan in the cabin. The familiarity of it all made you question if this was a good idea at all. You should’ve spent more time in the cabin before returning, but it was way too late to turn back. It would only be a quick trip anyway.

Inside your apartment also looked the same. It didn’t seem like anyone had been in there, and if they had they made sure to clean up after them. You worked quickly, plugging all of the chargers you brought into outlets before you opened the door to the secret library. However, before you could find the book, you started hearing footsteps echo in the stairwell outside. There were many of them, and they were approaching fast. The cogs in your brain started spinning, and you almost immediately knew what you had to do.

Before Chan could process what was going on, you pushed him into the crawlspace and told him to keep quiet. You closed the door on him, leaving him in the dark. He could hear you shuffle around outside, putting back books onto the shelf and moving things around in the apartment. Chan was frozen in fear and shock, he didn’t know what to do. So when he heard someone barge in, and heard you struggle and shout, he didn’t do anything. He held his hand over his mouth to try to stop any sound that might force its way out. When it got quiet outside, he still sat there. Chan didn’t dare move.

For hours, he sat in the crawlspace - and only got out when he noticed that he needed to charge. Everything was a mess. A chair was knocked over, the table had been moved across the room, and most of the books were ripped off from the shelves. The books that weren’t on the floor fell when Chan pushed the door to the crawlspace open. The door was left open, and he went to push it close. The bed still looked the same, except for the pillows. One of them was left askew. After having watched you make the bed almost every morning, Chan instinctively knew that something was wrong. He didn’t have time to feel or react to what happened, he had to act. He walked over to the bed and yanked away the sheets and the pillows. There was a note:

Contact ‘H.J.’. Digits in the drawer.

The note was poorly written, but he could still read it. It was a dicey move of you, but he was thankful for it. Chan’s thumb grazed the ink lightly, thoughts of your capture flooding his mind - but he had to shake them off. Putting down the small notebook, he began looking for another note. He started with the bedside table, but couldn’t find anything. Chan turned the entire place upside down trying to find a note in one of the drawers - only growing more and more impatient. At some point, he sat down in defeat - putting his head in his hands. He was right where he had started, by the bed. Looking up at that first drawer, he could see something sticking out under the opened drawer. Slowly, he reached out for it. It was a note- no, a list. There were two columns on the paper, one with one or two letters and the other with numbers. Chan’s eyes scanned the note for “H.J.”, and he almost began crying when he finally saw it. As soon as he found your phone, he dialed the number. Chan hadn’t used a phone like this before, but he figured it out rather quickly. It only took a few rings before someone picked up.

“Wow. I haven’t heard from you in a while.” The person said as they picked up.

“Hello?” Chan’s voice was shaky.

“... who is this?”

“I…” He took a deep breath. “I’m looking for Y/N, have you seen them?”

Chan knew the answer but couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Uhm… no. Listen, if you don’t tell me who you are then I can’t answer any more questions.” The man sounded suspicious.

“I’m… you don’t know me, okay? I’m Chan, I know Y/N,” he explained, “I’m looking for them, I think they’re being sent to you- they left a note, I don’t know-”

“They’re what now?”

“We were in their apartment- shit happened, okay? I don’t have time for this. I need to know where they are. They left me a note with your number, can you help me?”

The line went quiet. Chan almost thought that the stranger had hung up until he started speaking again.

“If Y/N’s getting sent to me, it’s bad. What have they done? Why would they get sent to Phylaca?”

“Phylaca?” Chan swore under his breath, trying his best to keep his emotions under control.

“Listen to me, man, I need you to focus. I’m going to get you here but you have to follow my every step.”

Chan found out that the man’s name was Hongjoong - an old acquaintance of yours. He was a guard at Phylaca, working undercover to help those who wanted to desperately get off the planet. When Hongjoong found out that you were going to Phylaca, he immediately checked their databases to see if that was true. Once he had gotten confirmation, he told Chan what he needed to do.

When he had put on the stolen guard uniforms, finding them in the crawlspace where you had put them, he picked the notebook back up. Chan studied your handwriting, then put the small book in one of his pockets. 

The next thing that Hongjoong had him do was more dangerous. Chan had to sneak onto an aircraft being sent to Phylaca, disguised as a worker. With Hongjoong’s many connections, he would luckily have help. Another guard named Jongho, who also worked undercover, would help him on board. Even though the steps seemed simple enough, it made Chan shake from nerves. 

Chan met Jongho outside the boarding docks - a well-built, serious-looking, man. The stolen uniform fit well into the environment, but Jongho gave him a jacket to blend in even more. It was made out of a thick material, to survive the cold conditions while in space, and had the same gray color as the uniform. Its dull color fits in with the insipid interiors of the spacecraft. Jongho helped Chan get acquainted with the area, but other than that he didn’t say much. Once everything was settled, Chan was able to stay in his room for the entire journey. Jongho had helped him register as an automaton maintenance worker, meaning that he wouldn’t need to show himself in the cafeteria. At most, he needed to sweep the floors for a few hours a day. The time spent in his room was boring for the most part. Chan would spend most of those hours writing in the notebook. He kept your note from before; although it didn’t say much, your handwriting felt like a good reminder to him. Except for that first note, the rest of the small book was empty. On the blank pages, Chan would write his thoughts like letters to you. He would write about his feelings, memories from your time spent together, and what he hoped to do with you in the future - find a place of peace, something similar to that cabin in the forest, and spend your lives together. Writing was what kept him sane during the week that he traveled across space to Phylaca. That and thinking about what he would do when you were together again. The time spent apart was taking a toll on him, but the image of you never faded. He thought of the many nights he spent lying next to you, holding you as close as he possibly could. After the time he had kissed your forehead, he could only think about doing that again. The small act of affection was more than he had ever experienced before, and he hadn’t gotten to try it again - what if he didn’t do it right? However, the image of your euphoric smile calmed him from these thoughts.

+:★:+

Walking onto Phylaca was unlike anything Chan had experienced before. He felt physically heavier, a sudden weight being placed on his shoulders. There was no time to dwell on it. Jongho helped him find Hongjoong, who welcomed him with a sad smile.

“Where are they?” Was the first thing to fly out of Chan’s mouth.

“Keep quiet, will you?” Hongjoong looked around himself. “I’m going to lead you to their cell, Jongho will be covering your tracks, and then there will be a ship waiting for you at the docks. They’re not professionals, but they’ve agreed to help you in exchange for supplies - you’ll just have to trust that they’ll take care of you.”

“... that’s fine,” Chan said, although he was less than happy to possibly put you in danger right after managing to get you out of it.

“Alright, let’s go. We have to hurry, but make sure to keep a low profile.”

Sneaking through the corridors wasn’t difficult. There was barely anyone there. Clearly, Hongjoong knew something that Chan didn’t because he kept looking over his shoulder every other minute. Despite his obvious paranoia, Hongjoong did a good job at staying calm - he wasn’t letting his nerves get in the way of finding the quickest path to you. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the halls - combined with a dripping sound and distant screams, it felt deafening. The concrete walls towered over them but the corridors were thin, making a claustrophobic sensation settle in Chan’s stomach. Every turn they made felt fruitless, no matter how much they walked it didn’t feel like they went anywhere. Every inch of this place looked the same, and Chan wondered how he could have ever found his way to you if it hadn’t been for Hongjoong. So when they turned the final corner, finding your cell, Chan was unsure of what to do. He saw you sitting in the corner, your legs drawn up to your knees, and your eyes staring down at the ground. You were wearing the clothes you had on when he last saw you, now dirty and slightly torn. 

“Y/N? He’s here,” Hongjoong said after waiting for Chan to speak up.

+:★:+

The moment you saw Chan again, you couldn’t believe your eyes. At first, you were just happy, then confused, and then even skeptical if he was truly in front of you or if it was a hallucination. But when you got to wrap your arms around him, feel his strong arms hug you tightly, you were just relieved. He was there with you.

“Did you miss me?” Chan’s voice was shaky and muffled against your neck.

“You have no idea.” You let go of him to look over at Hongjoong. “Thank you.”

“He did most of the work, I’m just the messenger,” he said, “Listen, I’m sorry to break up your reunion- but you have to leave. Chan, you know the way back to the docks. Just keep to that path. I can’t keep the guards away from here for that long, but I’ll buy you as much time as possible. There’s an aircraft at the dock, you’ll recognize them immediately- it’s the only ship that doesn’t belong to the Phylaca facilities.”

You and Chan nodded in response. Chan let go of you and shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around you and helping you put it on properly. The jacket was warm and smelled like him, reminding you of the time you spent in bed together at the cabin. After Chan made sure that you were comfortable enough, you left Hongjoong behind. 

Chan’s hand gripped yours tightly as he led you through the corridors. The two of you hadn’t gotten to talk at all, and you were itching to say something. Looking at Chan, you realized that there was only one thing you wanted to say.

“Chan?” Your voice was weak, but it caught his attention nevertheless. “I love you.”

His steps stuttered, but he refused to stop moving. Time was running out, and he had to get you to safety. He squeezed your hand reassuringly and gave you a bittersweet smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

Commotion echoed from where you had just been, and you took a quick guess that it was the guard finding your cell empty. Chan’s hand gripped yours even tighter as he started running down the halls. You had already gotten pretty far, but you knew that the guards could close in within seconds if you didn’t hurry. 

+:★:+

The two of you ran as fast as you could until you came to the docks. Just as Hongjoong had said, the aircraft stood out like a sore thumb. The sound of the guards had gotten closer, but you were so close to safety that you couldn’t help but smile. With the last of your power, you ran as fast as you could. But the loss of Chan’s hand made you stop dead in your tracks. You turned around to look at him. There weren’t any guards behind him just yet, but you could hear them closing in.

“What are you doing?” you shouted, “Come on! Let’s go!”

“I need to stay,” he whispered with a sad smile.

“What?”

“They’ll just come after us if I come with you. It’s always been me that they want, Y/N.” He grabbed your arms. “You have to leave me behind, I don’t want to put you in more danger.”

“No- you’re acting crazy! I’m not doing that!” Tears began building in the corner of your eyes. “We’re going together- we can build our life together now!”

“Y/N, I love you. I want you to be safe.” One of his hands cupped your cheeks. “When I saw you again… everything started making sense again. You’re the only thing that makes sense to me - if I don’t protect you now, I’ll never forgive myself. So, let me do this for you, I beg of you. Let me make your life as happy as you have made mine.”

“I don’t want you to- I can’t be happy without you.”

“Sure you can.” He pulled the jacket he had given you a bit tighter around you, his hands staying at your collar - even with his adamant attitude, he also wished to go with you. “... It’ll be cold on the ship, make sure that you stay warm. I don’t want you to get sick.”

You could see the guards approaching in the distance. Chan smiled before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. Tears were falling down your cheeks, contrasting the fireworks that went off in the pit of your stomach. You knew he wasn’t going to give this up.

“I love you.” You mumbled before running toward the ship.

You could barely see what was in front of you, throwing yourself at what you thought looked like the entrance of the ship and crawling inside. Before the doors closed, you could hear Chan being knocked down on the ground - a sob escaping your lips at the sound. Voices from the cockpit were shouting, but you stayed still on the floor. The aircraft took off shortly after.

+:★:+

After that day, you barely moved and never spoke. Your “saviors” were a couple, a human, and an automaton that you recognized as 5.C0UP5 from the facility. He was also quiet, clearly upset at his partner for leaving Chan. Sometimes he’d bring you food, and give you a half-sympathetic smile. Most of the plates he gave you went untouched. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat, there was no energy in your body to lift the utensils to your mouth. All you did was think of Chan, just as you had during your imprisonment at Phylaca. But back then you had the hope that he’d come to rescue you. Now there was no motivation to keep going.

A few days passed. You’ve become restless, spending most of your time wandering the ship. Usually, there was nothing for you to see - so you would walk from window to window to look at what was around you. There was nothing most of the time. You didn’t even know where you were going, but you didn’t feel like talking to the couple and asking them to drop you off on the nearest planet. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, you were too weak. Although you had managed to eat more, you were still the husk of the person you were a few weeks ago.

Your endless wandering had made you stumble upon the couple fighting. Their voices were muffled through the wall, but you knew it was something about Chan or the rest of the group. Pressing your ear to the wall, you tried hearing a few of their words. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you had to. You didn’t hear much, but the things you heard made your heart break for them.

“Do you blame me? Do you hate me?”

“... I can’t lose you too.”

“We should’ve tried saving Dino…” 

They were bits and pieces of the actual conversation, but it was too much for you. You left without hearing if they made up.

During an especially hard night, you picked up the jacket that Chan had given you. It still smelled like him, but it was fading. You put it on and laid back down in your bed. It wasn’t the same, but it was similar enough to his arms wrapping around you. But as you turned to lay on your side, you felt something poking into your ribs. Shuffling around, you managed to reach your hand into a hidden pocket and pulled out a rectangular object. You turned on the lights and recognized it as your notebook. It was one of the notebooks that you waited for the “proper purpose” of before you could write in it. On the first page, you recognized it as your handwriting: 

Contact ‘H.J.’. Digits in the drawer. 

A small gasp escaped past your lips, as the memory of your kidnapping flooded back. You pushed those memories to the back of your mind and flipped the page with shaky hands. On the next page was handwriting that you didn’t recognize as your own:

Hi. I don’t know who I’m writing this to, maybe it’s just to myself. Either way, I can’t stand doing nothing on this ship. I’m mostly just laying in bed, charging whenever I need to. I thought I would write to pass the time… now that I’m doing it, it feels a little stupid. But I should write about what I think, and get my thoughts out of my head. Most of the time I think about Y/N. I’m worried for them, and I can’t help but feel that it’s my fault that they’re stuck in Phylaca. They would probably tell me that I shouldn’t blame myself, but how can I not? I never did anything to stop the guards who took them. I could have done something. Then again, I could have also just left instead of coming here. But I need to see them again. And apologize. I have to make it up to them. Chan.

You put your hand over your mouth, trying to silence your sobs. He had filled this entire book with notes, this was the only thing left of Chan once his scent on the jacket had completely faded. With teary eyes, you turned to the next page.

I feel bad for M1NGYU and 53UNGKWAN. I don’t know what happened to them, but leaving them behind wasn’t right. Of course, I’m happy that I went to Y/N, but I keep thinking about what would have happened if I had stayed with 53UNGKWAN. M1NGYU sacrificed himself for us after all. I don’t regret my choice, I got to live happily for a while, but what would have happened if I had helped 53UNGKWAN instead? Would I have been as happy as I was with Y/N? They’re like my brothers. We were family, we didn’t have anyone else. I think a lot about 5.C0UP5. The pressure he must have been under. Could I have done something to help? Why did he decide to run away at all? He wasn’t any different during the days before the escape. I hope he’s happy now, that’s what he deserves after the years of putting up with us. I wish I could tell him, and everyone, how much I care for them - maybe see them just one more time, and tell them my new name. I wonder if they think it fits me, or if they still prefer D1N0. Either way, it’s fine. I just want to see them again. Love, Chan 

You smiled at the way he signed his name with extra care this time. After thinking over it, you decided to tear out the page and put it in the pocket of your jacket. This message should go to Cheol. He deserved the closure. Tearing out the page revealed the next paragraph. 

It’s barely been a week since they disappeared, but I can’t stop thinking about Y/N. I can’t tell the difference between night and day, but whenever I lay down to charge I close my eyes and think of them. I think of the time we sat in front of the fire, and they kissed my cheek. Nothing can compare to the honor of receiving their affection. I hope to do it again soon. And if you’re for some reason reading this right now, Y/N, I want you to know that I love you and that I would do anything to protect you. I owe you my life, and I’ll give it to you with gratitude. Please, don’t ever forget it. Even if I’m not there to tell you every day. Love, Chan.

You took a shaky breath and closed the notebook. There was more to read, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. After putting the notebook back in your pocket, you laid back down and tried to calm your breathing. Even if it was only the trace of a plan, he had already started thinking of his sacrifice before he got to you. And it was all for nothing. If he had known Cheol was on the spacecraft, maybe he would have followed you. You couldn’t understand what he had been thinking. Why did he need to do this? He had written about M1NGYU sacrificing himself, was that the reason? Did he feel that he needed to make up for it somehow? You knew that dwelling on his thinking wouldn’t make it better, but you couldn’t help it. 

“You should eat something,” Cheol told you.

This happened every day. Cheol sat with you, trying to get you to eat something for an hour or so until you finally gave in. You thought about giving him the note from Chan, but you never found the right moment. In the background, Cheol’s partner was looking around the spacecraft’s panel and you could tell that something exciting was happening.

“I don’t wanna get your hopes up, Cheol, but this planet looks so much like Earth…”

The announcement caught both your and Cheol’s attention, and the two of you made your way to the front of the ship. Clouds surrounded you and in the distance, you could see what looked like water and fields - it did look a lot like Earth. Cheol sat down in front of the steering wheel as he turned off autopilot. A child’s voice echoed over the intercoms. 

“Hello? We’re outside of your airspace, our registration is BO883628K, and we are requesting permission to land!” Cheol’s partner answered.

There was another voice over the intercom, seemingly scolding the child before answering your plea. They welcomed you to Lumen. A place that you had only heard of in fairytales. A planet, much like Earth, living in complete harmony. A safe haven.

“There are bigger docks located northeast of your current location, go there to land safely,” the voice said.

You sat down in one of the seats, preparing yourself for landing.

+:★:+

The days after landing you spent exploring the town where you found yourself in. Now that everyone had calmed down and settled, you thought it would be the right moment to give Cheol the note. You walked into his room when you knew that he and his partner were away, and put the note on the bedside table. Although a part of you thought it was wrong, you couldn’t bring yourself to give it to him in person. You didn’t want to watch as he opened the letter. So you left it there, hoping that it could give him some kind of closure, before leaving. 

You spent your time in Lumen in a small cabin in the forest, in an attempt to hold on to what you had with Chan. When you had time to heal, you were considering picking up teaching or doing something to give back to the people of Lumen. But for now, you stayed by yourself. On Phylaca, your only hope had been that Chan would come and save you. A part of you still hoped that he could find you, escape again, and come to you, but you knew it wasn’t possible. You thought a lot about if he had just known that Cheol was on the spacecraft too, maybe he would have come along. It wasn’t good to dwell on it, but you couldn’t help it. When the nights got lonely, your brain automatically started thinking about it. It made your chest feel hollow and your breathing quicken. During those nights you would wrap his jacket around you, or read his notes. Of course you were losing hope, but you would have to live without it. Day by day, just surviving.

*+:★:+━━━+:EXTRA :+━━━+:★:+*

The doors to D1N0’s room opened, and M1NGYU stepped inside. It was a completely white, empty room, just two chairs and a charger-bed. D1N0 was sitting on one of the chairs, and smiled at M1NGYU as he stepped inside.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi, Dino…” M1NGYU answered.

“Have a seat, I’m so happy to see you again.”

The diamond mark shone brightly on his clavicle, brighter than D1N0’s fake smile. His eyes were blank like he couldn’t think for himself. M1NGYU sat down in front of him.

“... is everything okay?”

“I’m feeling great. They have taken care of me so well here. I charge, practice, and exercise.”

“Dino… do you even remember what happened?”

“I remember what happened yesterday. I charged, practiced, and then exercised.” He sounded robotic.

“No… before that, don’t you remember?”

“Oh. Last week I charged, practiced-”

“Dino, no.” M1NGYU sighed. “The escape, do you remember the escape? I stayed behind-”

“That topic is not appropriate, M1NGYU,” D1N0 interrupted him.