“Dude, what the actual fuck—?!” Jaehyun gasps as he jumps out of his own skin, the wooden table under him still vibrating from the force of Sungho’s fork being stabbed into it. 

Sungho glares. He's been glaring for some time now, and not at Myung Jaehyun, but at the spot behind him—using the gap between his ear and his shoulder as a sniper scope. Straight at you. 

Jaehyun swivels around, following his line of sight.

He takes in the view of you silently eating your tray of food, slipping a piece of broccoli into your mouth as you read the book propped up next to it. When Jaehyun eventually turns around to look at Sungho, he's wearing a face of exasperation. “Not this again. Dude…”

“Number 2,” Sungho huffs out heavily, chest rising and falling in rapid fiery breaths. “I'm number two in my class…again.” 

“That's not bad.”

Sungho switches his maniacal glare towards him, making Jaehyun blanch like a ghost. He flails to fix his mistake but the blond is quicker to launch at his throat, “Not bad? …Not…Bad…???” He lets out a crazed laugh, one that won't sound out of place at a mental institution, making Jaehyun squirm in his place. “I have done everything right—I rewrote all my notes, I memorised the shit out of the additional readings… Hell, I even stopped showering for a week just to have more time to study for exams!” 

“Yeah, we needed to stage an intervention for that, remember?”

“I deserve that spot,” Sungho ignores him pointedly. “Why does she hoard it like a mole, can't she let up at least once?? It's been like ten years.”

“She’s more like a squirrel if anything, look at her,” Jaehyun gestures towards how you've been chewing the same thing for the past five minutes, cheeks all puffed out, too engrossed in your reading. “And, it's you that decided to go to the same university as her… Even when you got offers from literally all your top options.”

“That's—” Sungho’s words die on his tongue. He isn't going into the psychoanalysis of why he'd chosen to follow his sworn enemy into the battlefield again, after losing over and over for all of his school years. “I need to do something about this. I'm not gonna lose to her again.”

“Right.”

“I need a game plan.”

“Right.”

There's a menacing glint in Sungho’s narrowed cat-like eyes, duckling yellow hair falling across it to make him look like he's trying very hard and looking intimidating, and failing every bit of the way. But the resolve in his voice is sharp when he says, “L/N Y/N, you are going down.” 

Even if that means he might potentially be dragged down with you. 

SUNGHO'S FOOLPROOF STEPS TO CLIMB TO #1

Step 1: Find the target, then lock the fuck in. 

The clock ticks like a time-bomb about to explode any second, the hands on the dial moving with the pulse of his heart, his fingers tightly clasped within each other on the table. 

His eyes flicker between the wall and the door, maniacally—he’s early by thirty minutes and the waiting might just kill him before the looming disappointment of Rank 2 does. But this is all part of the plan. If he wants to finally shake off the jinx of the second spot (ugh, even thinking those words makes him want to punch a pillow), then he needs to follow through without making mistakes. 

The door finally clicks open and his heart finally soars, excitement building as your figure comes into view. 

You're the same as always: loose, plain clothes, the same half-open backpack hanging off a shoulder, hair a quick work of being pulled together by what appears to be just your fingers. A mess, he would say. Nothing like him. 

And it pisses him off, yeah. Because here is a disaster of a human being somehow doing better than him at what should be his forte. He's the one that spends hours poring over notes and utilising every resource he can get his hands on, going as far to hunt down the hard-to-access ones as well. He's the one that had a carpal tunnel for a month from non-stop typing. He's the one that has to hide his horrific eyebags under makeup in case he ends up spooking another child on the street into crying because they thought they'd seen a ghost. He's the one who works hard, who sticks to his regimen, who never crosses the lines he's drawn for himself, sticking within the confines of rules and propriety.

He's the one that cares. 

You—you don't give two shits about whether you do well or not, but you still somehow just win. 

And the worst thing is that you don't even seem like you're aware of this game you're playing. You're just swinging through life with no stress and still acing every bit of it. 

Sungho loathes it, but because he has ulterior motives (he's not evil, he swears), he plants the best and sugar-sweetest smile he can muster and calls for you. “Y/N, hey!” He grins, waving at you. “I saved you a spot.”

Your shoes scuff on the tiles as you stop walking to stare at him in confusion, a hint of a knot at your forehead. Then your eyes move from him to the empty space he's gesturing at next to him. “Huh?” 

“Come on!” he chimes happily (he's dying inside). “I won't bite.” (Oh yes he will, he so will.)

There's hesitation in your movements, but you've always been too shy to say no, he is aware of that and is shameless enough to monopolise on that fact. 

The second you sit down, you have stepped into the devil’s territory. Poor, poor you. Unaware of his clever schemes, totally clueless that you're about to hand over that first place as though under a spell. Because, guess what, Park Sungho, while the perfect student, is also a perfect campus heart-throb. He's shot many an unsuspecting passerby with the cupid's arrow, doing nothing but existing in all his angelic, golden haired (dye-job but it counts, okay?), feline-natured glory. 

He just has to distract you with his manly wiles until you forget how to study. That's the plan. 

“Oops,” he says as soon as you sit down to prepare for the class, checking your watch for when the professor will arrive. Other students have already started flocking in. “Ah, I think I dropped a pen,” Sungho feigns innocence, searching the floor for the pen he'd discreetly flung down a minute ago.

“Oh!” You’re immediately eager to help, shooting a hand down to scamper for his pen. 

But Sungho is clever; he does the same thing, and before your fingers can grab hold of the pen, his palm grazes yours, sending a tingle up your skin.

You slowly look up, and he does too, leading from the point where you touch to the gentle dips of your cheek, then to the sparkle in your eyes. 

Your eyes sparkle? That's new information... 

“Uh,” he whispers accidentally, but is quick to reel it back with a small cough and a polite smile. “Thanks.” He crinkles his eyes on purpose. 

He’s expecting you to blush. Or flounder for words awkwardly or topple over with the shock of how pretty he is. 

Unfortunately, none of those scenarios happen. You actually shoot him a blinding smile and return right back to your seat, opening up your work. 

And…

Sungho is the one to sit there flabbergasted at the turn of events. Because he hadn't expected you to be nice like that.

Or for your smile to be so…pretty.

Ew, no—! No no no, he does not think your smile is pretty, he’d meant to think petty—that’s it! Ha ha… Yeah…

Ahem.

It doesn't end there, he hasn't forgotten his mission to capture your heart just yet. There are still steps and sub-steps to follow, and he will do just that. A momentary lapse of his brain is nothing that can hold him back. 

So he doubles down on the efforts in the coming days: he brings you an extra cup of coffee for the 8 AM lectures, he offers to hold your bag for you when he sees you roll your shoulders with a pained sigh, he even brings a hairclip for you on the days you forget to brush your hair and need to keep it out of your eyes. 

It's a little counterproductive maybe—your focus definitely improves when you're hydrated and taken care of—but he is playing the long game here. A tiny lift of your spirits before it eventually plummets into the depths of hell, right into his opportunistic hands. 

You don't blush still, but you smile a lot more. When he gets you a slice of strawberry cake as a sweet treat after a test, you return the favour by paying for lunch. You eat together now, Jaehyun needing to find a new eating buddy because Sungho cannot get distracted by his dumb jokes while he's seducing you into failing. He splits his free time into studying, drawing up new and exciting methods to befriend you even further, and then preparing for these mini hangouts he's orchestrated. 

Everything is going swimmingly well. 

Step 2: Do not—absolutely never ever—get sidetracked. 

The ice cream shop is a quaint building at the corner of campus, with white bricks for walls and vanilla circling the air. The ideal spot for a romantic endeavour.

And Sungho is deviously romantic, of course. He's still stuck below you on the rank sheet, but the gap isn't all that big. It doesn't hurt him the same anymore. Just makes him determined to knock you off your throne. 

“Hmm…which flavour?” you ask, blinking at the shiny glass display holding a trillion different shades of ice cream. 

Sungho has to be a gentleman. So he says, “Anything you choose,” and he does it with a soft smile and lovesick eyes. (He practiced that morning in the mirror and almost fell in love with himself; it's a guaranteed trap.)

Your face breaks out in a happy grin, hair loosely falling along your cheek. It's a nice view—he has to admit—for how long he's known you from afar all these years, it's strange to see you up this close, with a smile that's admittedly very beautiful in the objective, factual, scientific sense. He's only agreeing with the voice in his head because he is after all, a scientific man, not for any other reason. 

Eventually you settle on a rocky road (he'd predicted this to be honest, you've got a raging sweet tooth), and end up with a wonky cone with two scoops bulging out of it. 

“You really like it, huh?” he chuckles at the way you eat it like a little kid would, with stars in your eyes. 

You nod shyly, twirling it around in your hand. “It's yummy. I had it a lot while I used to pull all-nighters in high school.”

“Yeah? Is that why you'd show up in the morning looking like a bird made a nest in your hair?” he teases, and he's met with a pout that makes him laugh at your reaction. “Sorry, sorry, just kidding. It wasn't that bad.” He holds his hands up in surrender, still grinning. 

It's a slow morning. There aren't any classes until noon, and the air is thick with the scent of spring—birds singing up on treetops, the lawn plush and green with rose bushes lining the curbs. Perfect romantic weather for a romantic scheme. 

Sungho is savouring the cup of vanilla in his hand when he looks up to see a tiny spot of brown at the corner of your lips. 

You haven't noticed yet, too engrossed in your own ice cream, and well—he tells himself it's just the messiness of it that bothers him. Not the way it mars your nice lips, no way. And his hand just moves on its own because he's always had a good instinct for cleanliness, not because he wants to touch you. 

But your eyes widen just the tiniest amount when soft skin thumbs at your face, swiping away the sweetness there. He watches closely, watches every minor change in your expression—the soft blinks, the stillness of your breathing, the way you have a gentle pink running up your cheeks.

His brain wants to scream jackpot! It wants to celebrate the victory of getting you to blush, of finally tripping you over into his metaphoric claws. 

But…

But why the fuck is his own face also heating up like a furnace?! 

He feels like he has a fever, a terrible affliction that causes his heart to run a mile a minute and for his mouth to stop working. Was he dying? Was he going insane? 

His thoughts only come to a swerving stop when you regard him with a sunny smile and say, “Thanks.” 

Thanks for what, really? He wonders. But he's quick to bury those complicated musings in favour of changing a steady mantra of ‘remember the plan, the plan, the plan, the plan—’, until he tunnel-visions and sees nothing but the score sheet pinned up on the bulletin in front of the lecture hall. 

Sungho does not stop until he's back in the safety of his dorm, having faked a stomach ache to run here before his next class—until he's splattered water into his face and climbed into bed without even changing out of his outside clothes, like a madman. Today marks the first day he's ever skipped a class. 

But it’s of no help at all, because he still ends up having a nightmare of your face giddy with happiness, and he burns like a fire the whole time he dreams. 

Step 3: Sympathy is for losers. Do not ever take pity on your enemy; it's a trap. 

The score sheet flutters from the draft through the window, the pale sun cutting dull lines across your name, and his right below.

Sungho tightens his fist, his jaw clenched in fury. At himself, not at anyone else. He's tried to do it this time, really pushed himself beyond what he thought was even possible. But it's of no avail when you've managed to secure the top marks again. 

“Oh,” he hears your voice from behind him, a small sound that he only picks up through the ruckus of students from how often he spends listening to it these days. 

When he turns back, he expects you to smile at him, maybe even give him a victory hug the way you do these days. But all he sees is the thin line of your mouth and the empty void in your stare. And…tears? 

“Hey,” he begins, instinctively on edge from worry. He doesn't even make it to you before you've schooled your expression into apathy, a robotic reaction so different from what he'd just caught a glimpse of before. He pushes forward anyways. “Come with me,” he says softly, wrapping a hand around your wrist and getting you through the crowd. 

You follow him quietly until he's found an empty lecture room, closing the door behind him and leading you over to the elevated stage in front. 

“Look at me,” he coaxes, gently bringing your gaze to meet his, with a soft palm guiding your cheek. “What's up, hm?”

“Nothing.”

It's a typical answer he'd have expected from you maybe some months ago and wouldn't have back an eye at back then. But now—now it feels odd. Like you're hiding so much and he’s only learnt to read past your mask, still in the process of figuring the meaning behind your little quirks. 

He knows you fiddle with pencils when you're nervous, that you twirl your hair when you're shy, the way you sometimes space out into distances when you're pondering something, when you're digesting a paragraph before it makes sense to you. And now, there's a tension in your shoulder that he knows is none of those things. 

“You can tell me anything, I won't judge,” he says, and it sounds true to his own ears for once. For once, he isn't lying. 

You open your mouth to deny, but you must be holding a lot in that a sharp, pained gasp escapes instead, and years begin to well up past your waterline before you've readied yourself to fight it. 

“I—” you try, and it tapers off into a choked sound when Sungho’s palms hold you with even more tenderness. “I’m not…I don't deserve it,” you confess into the air like it's a secret you've kept forever.

It doesn’t make complete sense to Sungho, but the one thing that he can say with his whole heart now is that if there is anyone that deserves all the good things in the world, it’s you. He’s been looking your way forever now—how could he not see how much soul you pour into your work… How dedicated you are and how diligent you are. He’s been envious of that talent of yours to absorb material like you’ve breathed in all the details and then recollected every bit of it on a test paper, but right now, he can only admit that it doesn’t just sprout from nowhere—you’ve honed that skill to perfection by working hard. 

“You do,” he disagrees gently, brushing the corner of your lashes with his thumb. “You deserve all of it.”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing…I…” You sniffle. “I don’t want to complain, I feel like an ungrateful brat when I do.”

Sungho lets out a soft chuckle at your words. “You’re anything but that. You say sorry to furniture when you walk into them…and you always ask me questions more than you talk about yourself. Not an ungrateful bone in you, Y/N.”

“It’s just,” you suck in a breath, finally managing to stop the tears from flooding down your face, just for a second. “I keep working, over and over, day and night, but I don’t know why I do it…”

“Hm?”

“I just feel so…lost…sometimes.”

Oh. 

Oh… Sungho realises a lot at that moment. Most of all, how he’d really chalked you up to be this superheroic entity that couldn’t feel more than just happiness and apathy. After all, you’re just a person. You’re just like him. Someone who is wandering life without having figured it all out. 

“I try so hard but I never know what I’m doing it all for and…today I just…I don't know, it's so stupid,” you bite back your sobs,body quivering from how tightly you hold yourself together, afraid of breaking apart. “I don't even like seeing my name up there anymore. It just reminds me I’m faking it all.”

“Who cares?” 

Your eyes flicker up to meet his, a little shocked, somewhat confused. “Huh?” 

Sungho shakes his head at how cute you look, all red and puffy-cheeked. “Who cares if you're faking it or not? I'm proud of you for getting that top spot again, and you should be too. I like how smart you are and how capable you are and how you never let it get to your head,” he says softly, in a voice reserved just for you. “Couldn’t be me.”

His funny smirk pulls an unexpected laugh out of you, even though it's tinged with the remnants of your tears. “Hey, look at that, you're laughing!” he teases, pushing your hair out of the way to get a better look at your pout. “How could someone so smart be so cute… It's unfair, honestly.”

It's too late when he realises he's said the last part out. It only occurs to him when you reply with, “You're only saying that because you're my boyfriend.”

…

Sungho stops breathing. 

Huh…?

Boyfriend?

You're unaware of how wide his eyes have gotten and how he resembles a fish letting out bubbles through its mouth right now. “I actually have thought of giving up this whole thing y’know—drop out of school and waste everything I’ve worked towards, because sometimes it feels like a race with no end and I’m just moving because I have to…” You press your forehead against this chest, leaving wet splotches of tears on his shirt. “But seeing you study with so much ambition…it makes me want to try just as hard. I like that we're always together on the grade sheets. It's not as hard when I’m not alone.”

And fuck, oh fuck, Sungho is late to so many realisations today. For someone who prides himself on his brilliance, he is so, so stupid.

“I'm your boyfriend,” he says out loud, the factual truth of the universe. “You're my girlfriend.”

The sun rises in the east. It sets in the west. Myung Jaehyun is annoying. The outings you go on are not schemes—they’re dates—the very real kind. You are smart. You are his girlfriend. Objective truths that not even his mouth has an argument for. 

“Yeah,” you look up at him, all the wonders of the world shining in your eyes. God, you're so pretty. He's blushing like the embarrassment he is, completely ashamed that it's taken so long for him to figure this out. “Aren't we?” you ask.

Beyond all the shameful musings, Sungho is not one to let go of a good thing that's happened to him. He's not an ungrateful idiot, just an oblivious one. 

“We are,” he nods feverishly, matching the red of your skin. “I'm so happy that we are. I don't even care that you beat me to pulp on our exams anymore.”

This garners a giggle from you; you probably think he's joking, but he's dead serious when he says it. He doesn't give two shits that the scheme has backfired and instead of making you fall for him, he's done the exact opposite. And maybe, maybe he's been in love for as long as he's known you—just that he'd taken his unending interest in you as spite and not what it really was. A crush. A stupid, one-sided crush he’d never managed to put out. 

“We haven't even had our first kiss though,” he ends up blurting out, watching you melt into his hands. 

You must be dead set on surprising him today, because even though he comments with no intention to coax you into one, you pull him closer to press your lips against his, a clumsy but sweet kiss landing against the corner of his mouth. It's so quick, but it still manages to pull a whimper out of him. 

“Now we have,” you reply, coy and soft.

“That was just a victory kiss. For demolishing the exams again,” he tosses back. “Give me another.”

“For what?”

“For buying you ice cream all the time, duh.”

He half expects you to push him away, but in a second, your lips are back on his, slower than before. He takes it as a sign to return the favour, and the classroom melts away in your peripheries. 

In his head, Sungho makes a correction to the principles he's lived by until now, scratching out his not-so-successful plan with an imaginary red pen—because Park Sungho is no longer just a man of routine, he's a man in love.

Step 3: Sympathy is for losers. Do not ever take pity on your enemy; it's a trap. 

And then, in its place, he makes a correction—a reminder for future-Sungho. Something like a promise. 

Step 3: Fall in love with your rival. Then ask her to marry you one day. 

He seals it with another kiss. 

a/n: hope this was a fun little read for everyone and that it warms your heart/made it laugh as much as it made me happy to write it. for everyone dealing with exams right now, remember to take it easy and know that things always end in happiness despite the road-bumps you may experience on the way. and for fae, i hope you don't stress yourself out too much because we're all rooting for you and will be there for you whenever you want to unload your worries <33

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div cr: @saradika-graphics

you’re sitting there organizing your things and prepping your documents for this assignment. it was suggested to work in groups as to get the work done faster, and you already know who will be showing up at your desk. but when you look up, there’s an unexpected face staring at you instead; taehyun. he’s another classmate of yours and a good student. “hey, if you’re not busy i was hoping we could work on this together? yknow split the work up a bit?” you’re about to reply when a familiar voice rings in your ears. “oh im sorry, was i interrupting? i was just trying to get my partner so we can work together.” of course it’s sungho. he’s not even sure how he got here so quickly. all he remembers is a weird feeling swirling in his gut. why is he with you. doesn’t everyone know sungho only works with you? you’re so smart and kind, always working with his ideas and adding your own thoughts. taehyun doesn’t even know the face you make when you’re focused, so why does he think he can just walk up to you like he doesn’t exist?? taehyun flashes a quick apologetic smile, completely unaware of the battle sungho is fighting in his head. “partner? sorry dude i had no idea you guys were dating, my bad!” his eyes go wide and almost immediately his ears burn a bright red. “WHAT—?! no not my partner, she’s my class partner! like we’re paired for the project!!” his eyes flash over to you, wildly gesturing with his hands. “we’re not dating no- i mean, i’m not saying i wouldn’t date you.. you’re amazing— L-LIKE in a ‘you’re super smart and hardworking’ way, you know? but i- im not trying to ask you out now, i’d have more class than that! i’d take you out somewhere nice and ask you properly— NOT THAT I’VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT BEFORE!!” he’s beet red and out of breath by the time he’s done over explaining himself. taehyun takes his leave awkwardly and you’re stuck staring at him with a bewildered expression. “sungho. get to the fucking table already.”

- he’s speechless after that, completely confused as to what made him act out like that. he seemingly can’t comprehend why it made him so… upset to see you being someone else’s partner.

- and that word, partner, is what makes the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. he might like you a lot more than just a classmate….

- sungho is traumatized. by himself. and vows he’ll never do something that embarrassing again. therefore, he now has to confess to you properly and keep his word of asking you out after a nice dinner!

riwoo — the cutie

- you and riwoo met in elementary school, bonding over having the same pencil case and liking the same music. but him moving away after the fourth grade unfortunately had you forgetting about him. well, until now.

- of course you’re happy to see him after all these years and can’t wait to catch him up on your middle school horror stories. but he’s not just some school gossip, he’s a man now! a man ready to confess what he couldn’t all those years ago.

- his confidence has always been what pushes him forward and there’s no denying that now with how much prettier and interesting you’ve gotten. but with everyone else seemingly fighting for you..? what if he stands no chance…

- no, he can’t think like that. he knows he can trust in his cute charm, so he’s not worried about his “competition” since there’s really no better choice than him!!

- besides, there was no going back for him once he’s heard you’re going to the same high school now. he needs to make up for lost time :

“ah- riwoo?” he’s snapped out of his thoughts and turns his head to the sound of your voice. there you are. just as pretty as he could’ve imagined. your hairstyle suits you, he thinks, it frames your face in a way that brings out your eyes. and your smile— wait. respond, riwoo don’t just go silent! “yn! it’s so nice to see you, how have you been? i know it’s been a while,” does he hug? handshake? a simple nod?? god, when has he ever been this nervous.. after you go in for a hug, you pull away and hum, “cute glasses,” and he swears he feels light headed. you almost immediately start talking afterwards and for that he’s glad. there’s no awkward transitional phase where you’re silent, it’s like you’re just resuming a conversation. he smiles to himself because you still talk the same. just as animated and excited when recreating stories with the same habit of talking with your hands. it’s like you’ve actually known each other all these years. oh but now he’s overthinking it.. what if this is too casual. are you this comfortable because you just see him as a close friend? what is he thinking, you’ve been talking for 2 minutes not 2 months! there’s no way you could— “..riwoo?” his gaze shoots up to yours, “i said, what about you? i’d love to know how you’ve been doing.” and his nerves calm because the beam of your smile is all the reassurance he needs.

- however, no matter how many years have passed or how he’s grown into his features, riwoo is still scared that you’ll always see him as the friend you had on the playground.

- he also might have a bit of an unacknowledged one sided beef going on with these other guys because they don’t see him as a threat..

- but that’s not gonna stop him from winning your heart, he’s technically known you years longer than anyone else here! plus, he’s charismatically handsome and a lot funnier so why wouldn’t you choose him?

jaehyun — the overachiever

- jaehyun juggles the many tasks of being the class president, captain of the boys soccer team, and is now trying to be the schools genius. however you’re a pretty tough candidate to beat.

- you’d assume he would come for your spot in being top of your class but he actually really admires you for it! he starts making an effort to get on your good side because in his head, you’d be an unstoppable duo.

- it’s during a study session for a group math competition that the warmth in his chest becomes unavoidable and he comes to terms with the fact that being just the top students isn’t all that he wants.

- at first, he tries winning you over with expensive gifts and elaborate plans to take you out. he thinks he can win you over by just impressing you. but you’re just not falling for him yet.. so he almost gives up

- but he realizes that you actually enjoy nerding out and appreciate when someone really listens. you light up with an animated expression when you talk about your interests, he caught the look in your eyes during your conversation with the “weird fish guy” and couldn’t get it out of his head.

- he starts paying more attention to what you’re really passionate about instead of going off of the surface level things he sees :

the sun begins to dip under the horizon as you finish your last assignment for the week. you don’t even notice jaehyun walking up until he’s sitting across from you at the table. he’s still a little sweaty from practice but changed into a fresh pair of clothes. you notice he’s acting weird, normally starting the conversation with a loud greeting or a laugh. but he looks… nervous. not making eye contact, unusually quiet, and playing with the strap of his backpack awkwardly. “are you.. okay? you’re acting really weird.” you laugh it off but concern is laced in your tone. “i got you something,” his voice is weaker and even a little embarrassed, like he’s not sure if he’s saying the right thing. “myung jaehyun, i told you to stop getting me things! you’ve spent way too much money and i don’t—” your throat goes dry when he turns his phone over to you. the screen reads YOU GOT EM! with a recent picture of your favorite idol group that’s just announced their tour. your eyes trail down and are caught on the subtext. meet and greet. jaehyun’s heart pounds against his chest in anticipation, he can’t read your expression. did he go too far? what if he got the group wrong. what if you can’t even go that day? what if— you launch out of your seat and practically tackle him, “OH MY GOD. YOU DIDNT- HOW DID YOU EVEN—? THEY’RE SO EXPENSIVE WHAT??” you’re spewing out thank you’s and your face is so close that all he can muster is a “are they okay..?” you pull back with a huge grin, “OKAY?? jaehyun this is PERFECT! thank you, oh i LOVE YOU FOR THIS!” and his brain short circuits.

- now that he knows the true way to your heart, jaehyun takes the time to assure you he’ll support every interest you talk about. the expensive gifts don’t stop, instead becoming more thoughtful and relevant to what you’d actually love.

- he listens to your advice of slowing down and stop trying to get ahead of his future, focusing on you is his main priority and he can only hope he isn’t too late.

taesan — the quiet one

- you’ve heard of taesan before, some calling him the rude emo that makes garage band music.. but the guy has been no where to be seen as of late.

- an awkward interaction with one of your love interests leads you to take refuge in a music room you had wrongfully assumed to be empty. unfortunately, no one takes your schools band seriously so the practice rooms are usually unused and left unlocked to whoever wants to make an attempt at making music.

- you’re giving yourself a pep talk on how to not be so awkward when the most monotone voice scares the living daylights out of you

- “..are you done?” and that’s where you meet him!!

- you magically start noticing him around your campus a lot more and he soon starts waving back when you say hi.

- he eventually catches himself enjoying your company and once he opens up, you realize he’s not the “gothy grump” everyone makes him out to be.

- it isn’t until the festival that’s coming up that taesan realizes he might have to confront his feelings sooner than he’d like. he overhears jaehyun saying he’s gonna confess to you during the fireworks and he can’t have you wasting your time on that “tryhard” :

just before you finish getting ready to leave the house and meet jaehyun, a message pops up on your phone from taesan asking you to meet at your usual spot because it’s urgent. you rush over because he’s never texted with such…emotion before. except when you get there, he’s calm as ever saying he needs your help with his equipment and writing lyrics. “taesan- i don’t have time for this.. the festival starts soon and i had promised jaehyun I'd—” “hold this,” he cuts you off and hands you his electric bass as if to distract you. you freeze. taesan has said how this is like his prized possession. how he saved his paychecks from his job at the dead end music shop to pay for it. and he’s just handing it to you so naturally. “you know how to play?” his hands ghost over yours, cold and much larger than yours as they position your fingers in the correct spot. he teaches you the beginning melody of a song he’s working on and it gets stuck in your head. you can almost catch a glimpse of his notebook with the lyrics. lines are scratched out and others are penciled in messily, and you swear a scribble at the top resembles your name but you don’t get the chance to read any of it before he swipes it from the desk and turns his attention back to you. you end up talking a lot in that room, the night feeling endless as time goes on. your heart sinks when you hear the fireworks cracking outside, realizing you’d broken your promise to jaehyun. taesan tries bringing your attention back to him but is too late before you’re grabbing your bag and running out the door. there’s a twinge of guilt in his chest but it’s ultimately drowned out by the ache in his heart when the warmth of your hand lingers on his palm.

- the music room becomes your safe space when things get too overwhelming and you know taesan will be the silence you need

- he likes your company as he works on his music, watching your face as he plays the backtracks of “your song” without explicitly saying it’s for you just to see if you like it

- he hates how distracted you are with all these other losers so he can only hope his music gets stuck in your head and into your heart.

leehan — your nerdy friend

- you’re not entirely sure how or when you had become so close to leehan. all you remember is asking him to help you get a bag of chips out of the vending machine because they were stuck and he was the only one around. he kinda just assumed you were friends now and has lingered around ever since.

- hanging out with him is a nice change of pace though, like a person you really can be yourself around. you take turns info dumping about things you’re into and get equally as excited with each other.

- he’s always super sweet, walking you to class and waiting for you outside before it finishes. he’ll even hold your bag despite your protests of being fully capable to hold it yourself.

- even on your hangouts to the aquarium or a museum he’s a saint. if you want pictures taken then he’ll turn into your personal photographer and smiles when he sees himself tagged under your instagram post.

- ever since the new year has started, leehan has noticed you’ve been around him less. he’s always been very observant like that, so of course he’s aware of the time you don’t spend with him.

- he gets a little sulky, sure, but he only suspects that to be normal because of all the new friends you’re making :

leehan hasn’t had a reason to doubt your closeness anyway. you have matching keychains and go out with other around the town basically every week. you always have something (and someone) new to talk about so he doesn’t see much of a problem because you’re so happy when you talk. but today he’s heard some news that’s seemed to have reached everyone but you considering how calm you are about it. “i heard from riwoo that you’re going out on a.. date pretty soon.” there’s a lilt in his tone that isn’t necessarily insecure, but more so curious as to what you’ll reply. “oh yeah that’s right! he said there’s this super cute pastry shop downtown that we should go to!” he’s not a fan of the way you perk up. “you’re actually going??” you almost flinch at his change of tone; accusatory and almost offended. “well.. yeah? riwoo’s nice and i mean no one else has really stepped up to take me out so i don’t see why it’s so bad to go out with him.” confusion is written all over your face because why would he care? you’ve barely mentioned any of the other guys you’ve met to him. he scoffs, pouting and breaking eye contact with a huff, “and you didn’t bother to tell me?” “it never came up! besides, why do i need to tell you everything? it’s not like we’re dating.” it goes silent. “….we’re not?” you stare at him for a long time before breaking the silence, “why would we?? you haven’t asked me out or called me your girlfriend— we don’t even see each other everyday!” “i just thought.. we were really secure…”

- turns out, all leehan needs in a relationship is attention, a great listener, and an aquarium buddy. but now he thinks he can do better than that..

- these other guys don’t even know you! he’s the only one who recognizes the video game character you have as your profile picture and the music you listen to while you study.

- so after a few awkward explanations, leehan is determined to prove to you and everyone else why he should reclaim his spot as your official boyfriend.

woonhak — the eager one

- you didn’t necessarily have a choice in being in woonhak’s life, it was more like he chose you to be in his.

- he begged you to tutor him in biology and hasn’t really left your side since. he kinda claimed you as his friend and now you have no say in the matter.

- he’s always coincidentally at the same places you are. he’ll walk by your class and wave at you through the window or offer to buy you lunch since your schedules surprisingly match up.

- but despite how..random he is, woonhak always manages to put a smile on your face every time you're around him. whether it be a dumb joke or his clumsy mistakes, he's always managed to get you out of a bad mood.

- traces of you are left all around him now; your notes and doodles in the margins of his notebook, random stickers left on his water bottle, even some of your pens that he stole borrowed from you. while other people have gained suspicion, you both only see it as a ‘really good friendship’…

- one day, you go out grocery shopping with your mom and stop dead in your tracks when you make eye contact in the cereal aisle :

he’s immediately on his best behavior to make a good impression on your mom and of course she loves him. he has that boyish charm that wins her over and makes your stomach do a weird flip. you excuse yourself to grab a carton of eggs and a breather. it’d be silly to overthink this, it’s a grocery store not a manhunt, so why would it be crazy to see him here?? either way. your mom taking such a liking to him wasn’t exactly on your bucket list. of course you’re questioned on the way home and asked about who he is but there’s not many answers to give. later that night, you hear a knock at your door right before dinner is almost done. but you’re completely dumbfounded when woonhak is standing at your doorstep with a cheesy smile and a bouquet of flowers. “your mom will like these, right? i wasn’t sure if she was more of a lilies or peonies type of person, but she suits both!” your own mother plotted your demise while you were grabbing eggs. and worst of all? you’re in your home outfit. a well loved band tshirt, sleep shorts that have seen better days, and your hair sticking every which way. but woonhak’s smile almost melts like he finds it endearing, and that just makes this all worse!! he’s invited in by your mom and you rush to change into something more presentable before setting the table. you completely expect the table to be awkwardly silent or for someone to end up embarrassing you but it’s surprisingly pleasant. woonhak compliments your moms cooking and gets into an entertaining conversation with your dad about baseball. he fits in all too well and, without either of you realizing, it makes you both a little nervous.

- he definitely will help with the dishes after and your mom will insist he comes over more often. she’ll even bring him up like “that woonhak boy is so sweet, you should bring him over more!” and you don’t know what kind of spell he’s cast over her.

- since he’s a little younger than you, woonhak is just trying his hardest to prove himself to you and the universe is working in his favor every time.

so, who would you choose?

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