You sat across from him in a sweater one of your new girl friends had helped you pick, sleeves properly ending at your wrists now. It was one of those details he still noticed too much. Clothes that fit you. Shoes you chose yourself. Hair tucked back because you liked the feeling of your neck being free.

You were becoming someone who belonged to yourself.

He should’ve been happy about that.

Instead, he kept staring at the menu like the words were going to rearrange themselves into something easier.

“Dongmin.”

He looked up.

You were watching him carefully, head tilted slightly. “You are quiet.”

He huffed a small laugh. “I’m always quiet.”

“Not like this.”

Of course you’d know. You always knew the difference now.

“I’m just thinking.”

“Bad thinking?”

His throat tightened. “Not bad.”

You waited.

He wished you still needed him to explain everything. It was cruel—maybe, to think that, but there had been a time when your confusion gave him more room to delay. Back then, he could say “later” and you would accept it because later was still a shape yiu were learning.

Now, you knew when something was being hidden.

Now, you know the difference between silence and avoidance.

The food arrived before he could answer properly. Steam rose between you both, briefly hiding your face. You smiled faintly at your plate, pleased by the warmth of it, and for one terrible second Taesan thought he might not say anything at all.

Maybe he could just let this be dinner. Maybe he could let you enjoy it. Maybe he could let himself pretend.

You picked up your fork, then paused.

“Are we celebrating?” you asked.

He froze.

“What?”

“You said dinner is for something,” you said. “Sometimes for hungry. Sometimes for sorry. Sometimes for happy.”

Taesan stared at you and his chest hurt.

“You remember that?”

You nodded. “This feels like something.”

He looked down at his hands.

It was so unfair, how much you had learned.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It’s something.”

The sounds of the restaurant continued around you. Plates being set down. People laughing. A chair scraping somewhere behind him. Life moving like nothing was ending.

“I talked to Stella,” he began.

You brightened a little at her name. Riwoo’s cousin, who liked the same shoes you liked. Someone you got to know last week. “Stella.”

“Yeah. Stella.” He swallowed. “She’s going to Star Uni too.”

“I know.”

“And Riwoo said her apartment has another room. It’s close to campus, and she already said she’d help with forms and schedules and everything.” He spoke carefully, slowly, like if he arranged the words neatly enough, they wouldn’t cut. “So when school starts, you can stay with her.”

You looked at him. Your fork lowered slightly.

“With Stella?”

He nodded once, you blinked twice.

“But I live with you.”

There it was.

Taesan’s fingers tightened around his glass.

“I know.”

You stared at him for another second, waiting for the rest of the sentence. Waiting for the part where he explained that it was only temporary, or convenient, or because Stella was closer.

He couldn’t give you that.

“Why,” you asked slowly, “will I not live with you?”

The silence after that felt too large for the table.

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

You watched every movement of his face, and he hated that he had taught you how to read him so well.

“Dongmin?”

He exhaled shakily.

“I got accepted by BND university.”

Your eyes changed.

Not understanding yet, but sensing the shape of it.

“To the university I told you about,” he said. “The one abroad.”

You were very still.

“The dream one?” you asked.

He nodded.

For a moment, your face softened. You understood dreams. He had explained them to you once as wanting something for a long time, even when it was far away.

“That is good,” you said quietly.

His eyes stung.

“Yeah.”

“Then why…” You looked down at the table, brows drawing together. “Why do you look…sad?”

Taesan laughed once, but it barely held together.

“Because if I go, I’ll be gone for four years.”

You blinked, and he watched the number reach you slowly.

Not as a number first. As distance.

As mornings without him in the kitchen. As lights you would turn off alone. As someone else waiting by the door. As someone else saying your name when you came home.

“Four years,” you repeated.

He nodded.

“You will come back after dinner?”

“No.”

“After summer?”

His jaw tightened.

“No.”

Your lips parted slightly.

“When?”

The question was so small.

He wished he could lie. He wished he hadn’t taught you what lies were, because now both of you knew exactly what it would mean if he used one.

“Not for a few years,” he said.

Your face crumpled before you could stop it.

Taesan saw you try to hold it. Saw the effort move across your expression like a hand pressing down on water. You looked away quickly, blinking too fast.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You shook your head once. Not at him—at yourself.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know dream is good.”

That broke his heart.

“I’m sorry.”

You wiped under your eye with the back of your hand, almost angry with the tear for existing.

“I know Stella,” you said, voice uneven. “Stella is nice.”

“She is.”

“And Star Uni is close.”

“Yeah.”

“And I can do forms.”

“I know you can.”

“And I can turn off lights.”

His throat closed. You looked up at him then, eyes wet and shining under the restaurant light.

“I can do many human things now.”

Taesan couldn’t speak.

Because that was almost the worst part.

You could.

You could live without him now. You had learned enough to survive the world he had pulled you into. You could eat without copying him, speak without borrowing his words, choose clothes that fit, lock doors, answer questions, keep secrets, lie when you needed protection.

You could do all of it.

And he still wanted you to need him.

He hated himself for that.

“I know,” he said, voice cracking. “I know you can.”

You nodded like you were trying to convince yourself too.

The food between you had gone mostly untouched. Taesan looked down at it, ashamed suddenly of the restaurant, the warm lights, the pretty table—like he had wrapped heartbreak in something gentle and expected it to hurt less.

“I didn’t tell you sooner because I was scared,” he admitted.

You sniffed quietly. “Of me?”

“No.” He shook his head immediately. “No, never of you.”

“Then?”

He stared at you.

“Of leaving.”

You went very still again.

He pressed his thumb against the side of his glass, grounding himself. “I wanted it for so long. Before you. Before everything. And then you came here, and suddenly leaving felt…” He swallowed hard. “Wrong.?”

Your voice was barely audible. “Then don’t go.”

The words landed between you.

Neither of you moved.

Taesan’s vision blurred.

You seemed to realize what you’d said only after it existed. Your face shifted—guilt, panic, love, all things you had learned too well.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered quickly. “That was selfish.”

“No.” His voice came out rough. “No, it wasn’t.”

“It was,” you said, wiping your cheek again. “Dream is important. You said.”

“It is.”

“And I want you to have it.”

He looked at you, and for the first time that night, a tear slipped down his face too.

You saw it instantly. Your expression changed, softened through the hurt.

“Dongmin,” you said.

He looked away, but it was too late.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

You reached across the table, hesitant at first, then placed your hand over his. Your fingers were warm.

“You are allowed,” you said.

He stared at your hand.

“To go?”

You nodded, though your mouth trembled. He turned his hand over and held yours properly. For a moment, that was all either of you could do.

Hold on.

The walk out of the restaurant was quiet. He paid. You thanked the staff because you remembered that was what people did. He nearly cried again at that.

Outside, the night air was cold enough to turn your breath visible. You stood beside him under the small awning, both of you not quite ready to move toward home.

Home.

The word felt cruel now. You hugged yourself, sleeves pulled over your hands.

Taesan looked at you.

“I’ll call,” he said, uselessly. “And text. All the time.”

You nodded.

“I know.”

“And I’ll come back when I can.”

You nodded again.

“I know.”

But knowing had never made anything hurt less. A tear slipped down your cheek again, quieter this time.

Taesan couldn’t take it. He stepped closer.

“Can I hug you?”

You looked up at him.

For a second, you just stared, like the question itself hurt.

Then you nodded.

He pulled you into his arms carefully, like if he held too tightly, he might make a promise he couldn’t keep.

You folded into him immediately with no hesitation.

Your face pressed into his coat, hands curling weakly at his sides. He felt your breath shudder against him and closed his eyes.

“I don’t want to go,” he whispered.

Your fingers tightened.

“But you will,” you said.

He nodded against the top of your head.

“Yeah.”

You were quiet for a long time. Then, muffled against him, you said, “I will miss you before you leave.”

Taesan’s breath caught and held you a little tighter.

“I’ll miss you too.”

The city moved around you. Cars passed. Someone laughed down the street. The restaurant door opened behind you, spilling warmth for a second before closing again. Neither of you let go.

Not yet. Not while he was still here.

Not while you could still pretend that four years was only a number, and not the shape of everything changing.

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a/n: taesan’s blog is ending soonnnnn

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“i told you i could do it. you hate it. look at you.” you laugh as best you could with a sore throat.

“i’m fine. i’m pulling through for you.” but you can see the way he huffs when he comes across a bedsheet. those were always difficult to fold even for you. he eventually throws it to the side focusing on a pair of jeans instead.

“you’re so cute.”

“i’m cute?” he raises an eyebrow.

“mhm. like my cute househusband.”

“husband, huh? is that a proposal?”

“do you want it to be?”

“i’d like a ring.”

“whatever you’d like, princess.” you wink and he snorts because you look silly.

ㆍhelping them bathe

he’s dragging the wash cloth over your arms, shoulders and back. the gentleness of it all is enough to bring you to tears. he thought to run this bath for you, light your favorite candle and help you bathe because he knew you’d had a long day. it’s when you sniffle that his hand pauses and he leans over to look at you.

“what’s wrong? i wasn’t being too rough, was i?”

“no, no, no. i’m just a little emotional right now is all.” you laugh, but it seems the tears can’t stop coming.

he sets the rag down and cups your face wiping your tears away.

“i just feel really loved right now.” you give him a wobbly smile.

“oh, you’re so precious.” he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

ㆍmaking their tea/coffee how they like it

dongmin’s pretty sure he’s perfected your daily coffee, but he still waits with bated breath as he watches you lift the mug for the first sip. when you set it down you still feel he’s looking at you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask.

“did i mess up?”

“dongmin, seriously?” you laugh. “you’ve been making my coffee for months now.”

“well, yeah, but there’s still room for mistakes.”

“it’s perfect. you could apply to be a barista now.”

“oh, good.” he sighs. “i’ve been thinking of picking up a side job.”

taglist: @moesthinking @shyeppi @mykaneptune @ivehan @wnouzi @andnevertheless @coriihanniee @loveseobie @taestulipss @ihanzzn @cinnamorollhyuka @mirouie @j-jellyous @starriniqhts @k-records

a/n: ouuu shiiballl yoooo im back w crack yoo Guys ill write hybrid fics soon TRUSTT