Into Another Mind

In those late nights when you cannot sleep, rather than thinking about literally anything else, you’re thrown into the jaws of your mind, replaying that moment and cringing yourself out to the point where a peaceful slumber is no longer an option. Frankly speaking, it’s pathetic, considering how much time has passed since then. 

It’s been three years since you walked across that stage, diploma in hand, and yet, sometimes you feel like it was just yesterday. But not for a lack of maturing. You’d like to say that you have changed immensely since then.

You’ve moved across the world to earn your Master's, built a career from scratch in an unfamiliar city, and now work as a Medical Assistant Liaison at Hybe Health Co., a job you genuinely love and one you worked hard to get. 

And miraculously, you've managed to stay close with most of your university friends despite everything, the years and the distance doing surprisingly little to wear down what you built together. When schedules align, you find a way to get Yunjin and the rest of the girls onto one chaotic group FaceTime to catch up, or send just a quick message to Jake to call for five minutes, even though it always stretches into an hour. 

Lately you've found yourself talking to Sunghoon more than usual, too, mostly because he's looking to change career paths and has grown interested in applying to the same Master's program you once did. He's been peppering you with questions ever since, about coursework, about the application process, about whether moving abroad would be a good option for him as well. You don't mind it, though. If anything, walking him through the parts you wish someone had explained to you feels like paying something forward, a small correction to the version of events you actually lived through. Remembering how lost you felt going in, how much you had to figure out through trial and error simply because no one was there to tell you sooner, makes answering his messages something you look forward to.

Jungwon is the one name missing from your list of maintained friendships, as you’d expect. Truth be told, for the first few months after graduating, you couldn’t even hear his name without getting a feeling akin to full-body shivers. Over time, that response faded, and his name appearing in the group chat became just another notification, but you could never bring yourself to message him privately, never ask how he was holding up. 

Though you haven't heard from him in years, and haven't dared bring up his name in conversation with the other friends (an unspoken agreement everyone settled into once they found out about what happened), the lingering effects are still there, not as loud but present all the same. 

You can't name a single time you have felt real romantic feelings for someone since him. Sure, there have been men in your life since graduation, but you never let yourself like any of them, never tried to read into their actions the way you once did with him. Every time you feel the smallest pull of attraction toward someone, the fear of delusion crawls up your throat. You've gotten good at talking yourself out of feelings before they finish forming, forcing yourself to find flaws in order to prevent them from growing too strong. It is exhausting, though; if you allow yourself a moment of honesty, this constant policing of your own heart. 

Three years you've spent locking in, rebuilding, telling yourself the worst of it was over and done with, and then, without so much as a breath of preparation, you hear your name called from behind you, and the first brick of everything you've spent all this time constructing comes loose. 

“Jungwon?”

You're dumbfounded. Here you are, in a completely different country, on a completely different continent, standing face to face with quite possibly the last person on earth you expected, or wanted, to see. He looks good as he jogs up to you, better than good, actually, some traitorous part of your brain notes. Time has clearly been kind to him. 

"No way, is that actually you?" He stops a few feet away, grinning. "It's been forever!" 

You laugh sheepishly, trying to buy yourself a second to figure out what emotion your face is supposed to be portraying. "Yeah, I know. It's been a while. I hope you've been doing well." 

“I’ve been great,” he says, looking you up and down, “so do you live here then?”

"Yeah, I do. I work as a Medical Assistant Liaison over at Hybe Health Co." You don’t know if you should be doxxing yourself like this so fast, but the words tumble out in the flurry of jitters you’re currently feeling. 

His whole face lights up. “Wait, seriously? I'm starting there Monday. What are the odds." 

Suddenly, you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass, and then a bit further as you process this new information. Is Jungwon going to be your new coworker? Swallowing, you force a smile. “That’s amazing. Look, I’m going to have to get going, but it was great running into you!”

“Likewise,” and then he fumbles in his pant pockets for a moment, pulling out his phone and waving it. “Your number still the same?” You nod. “I’ll message you then!”

—

He wasn’t lying about messaging; you feel the vibration in your purse before you even make it home.

jungwon: hey it was super dope running into you. lmk if you have time this weekend, i’d love to get coffee and catch up

Just picturing it, the two of you sitting across a tiny cafe table with nothing but hours of small talk between you, has you shuddering. It’s as if every nerve ending is screaming at you to say no, but of course, you override that instinct, your thumbs beginning to type. 

you: it was :) i’m free on saturday around 11, meet @ en-cafe?

Message bubbles appear in the bottom left corner right away.

jungwon: works for me

"Then" arrives faster than you would have liked, you think, standing outside En-Café and stalling for one more second before pushing the door open. The bell above the door announces you the moment you step inside, and Jungwon’s head turns immediately, a smile spreading across his face as he lifts a hand to wave you over.

You force your own smile into place and make your way toward the table, weaving between the narrow clusters of chairs. "Hey, sorry, were you waiting long?" 

"Not at all, I got here maybe ten minutes ago." He gestures to the seat across from him. "Wanted to grab us a good spot before it got busy." 

A hum of agreement escapes past your lips while you settle down into the chair. “So, how have you been? What have you been up to?”

Jungwon leans back, considering the question for a moment before answering. He tells you about his first job out of university, a decent enough position that should have felt like an accomplishment but never got there, the days blurring together until he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt excited about anything. He admits later, a little sheepishly, that he spent almost a year feeling stuck, going through the motions without any real sense of where it was leading. Eventually, he'd reached a point where staying felt worse than the fear of leaving, so he took the leap and moved abroad, applying for a job at Hybe Health Co. 

"Actually, now that I think about it," he says, tilting his head, "Jake mentioned you lived in this city. Guess it slipped my mind until just now."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Huh. Well, he definitely didn't mention anything to me about you moving here."

"Guess now we know who his favourite out of the two of us is.”

You snort. Surprisingly, talking with Jungwon is nice, easier than you expected it to be given everything sitting underneath the surface of this reunion. As the time passes, you feel yourself growing more and more comfortable, whatever tension you walked in with slowly dissolving until you're actually able to relax into the conversation. The two of you fall into old rhythms, joking around and laughing as if you were still classmates. You don't dare breach the topic of dating, at least not yet, maybe not ever if you can help it.

You’ve noted that he has yet to mention a partner, but you know better than to read anything into that, having learned that particular lesson the hard way once already. 

Looking at him now, there is zero chance he isn’t cuffed. You’re not even trying to be biased, or speak as your past self; he is just genuinely gorgeous– anyone with eyes would be able to tell you that. It’s only been three years since the last time you saw him, and he still has that boyish look, but at the same time, there's a manliness to him that didn’t exist before. For starters, the baby fat that used to soften his cheeks is gone, replaced by a toned jaw. And his shoulders, which were already doing plenty of damage back in university, are now… 

Realizing what you’re doing, you shut down your thoughts as fast as you can. Nope. You’re not checking him out, not falling back into old habits; you’re merely making an observation.

“So… looking forward to starting on Monday?”

Jungwon puts his mug down. “Honestly, yes. Well, I’m definitely more excited now than I was a week ago. Knowing you’ll be there too is pretty comforting.”

Before you know it, four hours have somehow passed, and you only notice when you check the time on your phone screen. Since you actually have errands you were supposed to run today, you hastily gather your things, apologizing as you stand, explaining that you'd completely lost track of time.

Waving it off, unbothered, and already gathering his own jacket, Jungwon just smiles. "Don't worry about it, I should probably head out too."

–

The rest of the weekend passes in a blur, and when Monday comes, you note that you are feeling significantly lighter and more prepared than you'd previously expected. When you show up to work, you're not shocked to see Jungwon there, already deep in conversation with a cluster of upper management near the front desk, nodding along and shaking their hands. He catches you passing by out of the corner of his eye mid-sentence, and without breaking his conversation, offers you a small smile. 

A few hours later, you hear a knock on your office door. Opening it, you find your boss standing there, and she tells you, very matter-of-factly, that you'll be the one showing Jungwon how everything works, the go-to contact should he need help settling in or navigating anything during his first few weeks. Perfect. 

Your first task of the day is introducing him to some of your coworkers, so during the lunch break, you bring him down to the company cafeteria. "Hey guys, this is Jungwon."

At your usual lunch table sit Soobin, Eunchae, Yunah, and Kai, the four people who have made this entire job bearable since your first week. Mostly it's because you all started around the same time, fumbling through onboarding together, and it also helps that everyone else on the floor is old enough to be your parent. The four of them look up in near unison as you approach, Eunchae already scooting over to make room before you've even asked.

"New hire?" Soobin asks, eyeing Jungwon with open curiosity as he sets his tray down.

"Fresh meat," Kai jokes, earning himself an elbow from Yunah.

Jungwon laughs, sliding into the empty seat beside Eunchae. "Guilty as charged. Starting today, actually."

"He's a Medical Assistant Liaison too," you add, taking the seat across from him. "I've been assigned to show him the ropes here."

‘Oh, so it wasn't out of the goodness of your heart? You wound me.” He pretends to hold a hand over his heart, feigning hurt, and you roll your eyes. 

Reaching for your fork, you say, "Don't flatter yourself. Boss's orders. Apparently, I have seniority now."

"Seniority," Kai repeats, snickering into his drink. "Since when?"

“Like an hour ago.”

Yunah, who has been watching the exchange silently, her chin resting on one hand, finally leans forward, eyes flicking between you and Jungwon with open interest. "Okay, but do you two know each other? You seem pretty comfortable with each other already."

"Oh, we went to university together, actually. Small world,” you answer. 

“Small world indeed.” You hear from across from you as you begin to eat. 

Well, it seems that your friends take well to Jungwon, spending the lunch hour getting to know him and asking questions. You, for the most part, stay quiet, not having much to add to the conversation since you know pretty much everything already. Instead, you focus on your food, occasionally glancing up to catch snippets of the conversation or piping up every now and then to add details to a shared story. 

Walking back to your office afterwards, Eunchae jogs a few steps to catch up with you, her heels clicking quickly against the floor as she chases you down.

"Was he always like that?"

"Like what?"

"Charming." 

Choking and caught completely off guard, you have to clear your throat twice before managing a response. "Uh… I haven’t been keeping track of that. Sorry.”

She doesn't say anything else, already slowing once she reaches the turn for her own hallway, but she gives you a look over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised, mouth pressed into a smirk, and much to your dismay, you know exactly what she's trying to say without her having to say it. “Don't start,” you warn, but her smirk just grows even wider as she disappears from your view. 

–

It's the next morning when you hear a soft tap on your door. You pause your filing, confused, glancing toward the clock on your wall. No one should need anything this early; half the office hasn't even arrived. But when you swing your door open, you're greeted by Jungwon, two cups of coffee balanced carefully in his hands, his jacket still on as though he came straight from outside. Based on the packaging, the coffees are from an outside cafe rather than the office machine down the hall, the cups stamped with a logo you don't recognize.

"Hey," he chirps, holding one out to you, his eyes bright despite the early hour. "I just got whatever you used to drink in university, hopefully still like it."

You stand there puzzled, mouth opening and closing uselessly before any actual words come out. "What? I—" you trail off, blinking down at the cup he's still holding toward you. "Thank you, Jungwon. Although you didn't have to do this."

“I know,” he shrugs, “but I wanted to.”

He's still the same, you realize, watching him. He always used to show up to morning lectures having bought you a coffee (that is, before the Incident). And the fact that he still remembers your order? Perhaps it's the sheer nostalgia his actions stir up in you, but you can't help but beam as you reach forward and take the cup from his hands. 

"Thanks again. I'll see you around, okay?"

He nods, pushing himself off the doorway where he'd been leaning, giving you enough room to get the door shut. You catch one last glimpse of him heading back down the hallway before the door clicks closed and you're alone again.

–

Fuck Thursdays. Nothing sounds better than declaring a war on Thursdays.

Hardly two hours into the morning, and your computer has decided it was done for the day. One second you're replying to an email, the next the screen freezes, cursor spinning uselessly, no matter how many times you click. You restart it, then it freezes again, but on a blue error screen you don't recognize, and you stare at it before shoving your chair back in frustration and marching straight for your office door.

Flinging it open, you lean out into the hallway. "Soobin! Soobin, I need you!"

His door flies open a moment later, head poking out. A second passes, and Kai's door creaks open too, his head appearing at a considerably lower level of urgency than the former. 

"What did you do this time?" Soobin asks, already stepping into the hallway.

You glare at him, hand still braced on your doorframe. "Chill, you know it's not like that. But my computer's not working."

He follows you back into your office to look, squinting at the frozen screen with about as much comprehension as you had. Kai, meanwhile, is still half hanging out of his own doorway, intrigued and deciding whether this warrants leaving his desk as well. "Everything good?" he calls down from his position.

"No idea," Soobin says, waving him over without looking away from the screen. "Come look at this."

So, the aforementioned man wanders over, coffee in hand, and peers over Soobin's shoulder at the screen, saying your name disappointedly. "What on Earth did you do?"

"Nothing! I was just answering emails."

"Well, it's definitely broken now." Unhelpful, as always. "Have you tried turning it off and on again?"

"Yes, Kai, that was the first thing I did."

The three of you are still crowded in the doorway of your office when Jungwon rounds the corner from the far end of the hall. "Hey, what's going on? I heard some kind of commotion out here."

"My computer's being janky," you reply, gesturing at the screen. "And apparently none of us can figure out what to do to fix it."

He crosses the hall and picks your laptop from your grasp, cradling it against one arm while he heads toward your desk to set it down somewhere flat and steady enough to work with properly. You wheel your chair out of the way to give him room to actually stand, and he drops into position in front of it, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard, muttering about under his breath. Soobin and Kai both crowd in behind him to watch, equally lost, and you hover just off to the side, arms crossed, waiting.

For a solid minute, the only sound in the office is Jungwon typing and occasionally sighing at whatever blockage he's finding. Finally he hits a key, waits, and the screen resets, the home beginning to load.

"There." He straightens up, looking pretty pleased with himself. "Driver conflict from an update. Should be fine now."

You lean over to check the screen yourself, relief flooding through you at the sight of your unfrozen laptop. "You're a lifesaver."

Ducking his head, he flushes. "It's nothing."

From behind you, Soobin lets out a low whistle. "Okayyy, newbie coming in clutch."

The four of you dissolve into laughter, and once it dies down, you turn to your newfound saviour, reaching out to rest your hand on his shoulder, the gratitude showing on your face. “Thank you so much." You squeeze his shoulder lightly. "I was about to have a really bad day."

"No problem." His voice comes out more hushed than before, and after a beat, he reaches up and pats the hand still resting on his shoulder. The touch jolts you back into your body, and you awkwardly pull it back. Probably a little weird to be touching him like that, right?

"Right, well." Kai claps his hands together, getting your attention. "Glad that's sorted. Back to actual work, I guess." 

—

Throughout the remainder of his first week, Jungwon seems to cling to you quite a lot. You chalk it up to greenie nerves, since he's the new hire and still needs help getting his bearings, and there is admittedly a lot of new information for him to absorb all at once.

Of course, you take little to no issue with it and expect him to become more independent over time, but that doesn't seem to be happening. When almost half a year has passed and his probation period has ended, he still buys a coffee for you every morning, still spends his breaks with you, and now, during lunch, he practically only sits next to you, claiming the seat before anyone els gets the chance. Sometimes the two of you go out and eat lunch outside the office instead, at a nice restaurant nearby, one he insists on paying for regardless of your repeated attempts to hand your card to the server first. 

It's nice. If you were back in university, you'd probably be geeking out hard at this, reading it as some sign of deeper feelings. But now you just accept it as his way of showing appreciation toward people he considers his friends, nothing more complicated than that. What's better, because you don't allow yourself to read into it, you're able to enjoy the moments as they are, rather than turning them over in your head, wondering what they could be.

In doing this, a different side to you comes out. One that’s more sure— more confident. You'd even go as far as to say you're a better friend now, if only because there are no ulterior motives beneath every interaction. Not that you were ever insincere before, but half of every conversation was spent managing your own feelings.

So, a few days later, when Jungwon is off talking to Kai and Soobin, and Yunah barges into your office demanding you "spill the tea," you're completely startled.

"What tea?"

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I genuinely do not," you assure her, face scrunched in confusion.

"When did you and Jungwon start dating?"

"HUH?!" You're on your feet faster than she can finish her question, chair scraping loudly against the floor behind you.

Yunah tilts her head, studying your reaction with curiosity. "Wait, am I reading this wrong? Eunchae and I have been suspecting it for months."

"Completely." You lower yourself back into the chair, a tad embarrassed at the outburst. “Nothing is going on between us.”

You’d think that your friend would let it go after you say that, but she doesn’t. “But I genuinely thought… Like he’s totally into you.”

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself. “Please don’t go there; it’s just friendly.”

“Girl, the way he looks at you is insane.”

“He looks at me like a friend, Yunah.”

"Uh huh." She doesn't look convinced in the slightest. "Whatever you say." 

At this point, you’ve stopped listening. You refuse, adamantly, to acknowledge that whatever this is with Jungwon has anything to do with feelings, because admitting that would mean actually sitting with it, and that's not something you're willing to do. Truthfully, you can't even fully process what you feel where he's concerned, some tangled thing that isn’t romantic but not fully platonic either. It’s weird. 

You know, somewhere in the more rational part of your brain, that this is a wildly disproportionate reaction to a man who has done nothing wrong. But if someone held a gun to your head right now and told you to relive the exact moment Jake told you he had a girlfriend all those years ago, you'd take the bullet.

Yunah is still yapping away about how obvious it all is, how everyone on the floor has noticed, blah blah blah, as you sit there, stewing in your thoughts.

It just isn't possible. If he didn't want you back then, then why would he want you now? Whatever thing people think they’re seeing between you two must be some rose-tinted echo stirred up by proximity and old habits.

And besides, you enjoy this new friendship with him. It's not the same as it was in university, and that’s good. You wouldn't just ruin it by projecting and beating a dead horse.

“Please,” you plead, “just drop it.”

Finally, she gets the hint, shoulders dropping at the lack of juicy information to relay back to Eunchae. “Okay… I just think you should think about it.”

If only she knew how much you already have.

—

Achoo!

You feel awful. 

Standing just in front of your washroom sink, you pull out the thermometer and see the temperature: 103.4 degrees. You groan internally, already dreading the domino effect this number is about to set off. Calling in sick is something you actively hate doing– always have– but there's such thing as no pushing through a fever this high. You set the thermometer down on the counter and lean against the sink for a moment, forehead pressed briefly to the cool mirror. 

Maybe you can work remotely instead, you ponder, scrolling through your phone. It feels like a reasonable compromise. It’ll let you avoid the guilt of a full sick day while still letting you collapse back into bed between tasks. You type out a message explaining the situation, and hit send. Within minutes, your boss responds, telling you to rest properly and log off if you need to, which does little to ease the small, nagging voice chastising you for not being there in person. You shuffle back to bed anyway, propping yourself up against a mountain of pillows, laptop balanced precariously on your knees as you brace for a day of feeling roughly like death.

Around noon, your phone buzzes against the mattress, and you squint at the screen through gritty eyes. It's Jungwon.

"Hey," your voice is scratchy and thick, the effects of this being your first spoken word all day showing. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” On the other end, you can hear traces of worry in his tone. “Your desk is empty, and neither Kai nor Yunah know why.”

"I'm working remotely today," you explain, punctuating the sentence with a cough. "I've got a fever.”

“Working remotely? You should rest,” he responds. “Seriously. Close the laptop— I see you’re active on slack.”

You laugh weakly, which hurts your throat, and you wonder if a fever is the only thing you’re sick with. "I have deadlines." 

"Screw that, your deadlines can wait one day. Go lie down properly." There's no room for argument in his voice, and you feel a small, warm flicker in your chest at his apparent worry. You promise, mostly to get him off the phone, that you'll rest soon, even if you both know you'll probably answer at least a few more emails before actually following through. 

Alternating between naps and trips to get more tissues is what constitutes your afternoon, once the evening rolls around, your fever has dipped, though you still feel wrung out and miserable, curled beneath a blanket. You're in the middle of debating whether you have the energy to make actual food when your front hallway bell rings. Who could that be? You drag yourself upright and pad over to your video intercom, squinting at the small screen. There, distorted slightly by the fisheye lens, stands Jungwon, holding what looks like a plastic bag in one hand. 

It’s only after you’ve buzzed him in that you’ve realized what you’ve done. Panicking, you spend the next thirty seconds adjusting yourself, trying to make yourself look less like a corpse, only to give up when you catch your reflection in the hallway mirror. There's no use; it's a lost cause.

You open the door after the first knock, and Jungwon lifts the small bag in greeting. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

"I'm a bit better.” Wow. Your vocal cords still desperately need some warming up to do. "What the hell are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?”

“Well, one, someone should be here for you,” he says, already stepping past you into the kitchen as you shut the door and trail after him, watching him set the bag down on the counter. “Two, you gave it to me a while back, remember? When we were figuring out carpooling for that excursion thing.”

He starts unpacking the bag as he talks, pulling out containers of soup, a box of crackers, a bag of orange slices, and a small pharmacy bag containing medication, hand sanitizer, and a box of tissues. "I wasn't sure what you'd actually want, so I just grabbed a bit of everything." 

“Jungwon… you really shouldn’t have.” You’re so grateful for him. “Also, fair warning, I don't want to get you sick, so maybe keep some distance."

He waves off the concern, pulling two bowls down from your cabinet after floundering around, opening the wrong drawer twice before finally locating where you keep them. "Don't worry about it, seriously, I don't mind, and even if I catch something, it's not like it'll kill me."

Carefully, he ladles the soup into the bowls, grabbing spoons from the drawer beside the sink, then signals for you to head back to bed, insisting he'll take care of the rest. This whole thing, him in your apartment, in your kitchen, taking care of you while you're sick, feels oddly and extremely domestic. It feels like something he’d do for a girlfriend, which…. you very much are not.

A few minutes later he appears in your doorway, careful not to spill as he crosses the room and sets the bowl down on your bedside table. You move to reach for it, but he juts out a hand, blocking you, tutting a soft nuh uh uh as he picks the bowl back up himself, spoon already dipped in and lifted toward your mouth. If you weren't so thoroughly ill, you'd probably protest on principle alone, but alas, your body has no fight left in it.

So it's in your room where Jungwon stays with you for who knows how long, feeding you soup until you finally convince him that you can manage the rest yourself, then lingering afterward simply to talk. At some point he abandons his position of squatting awkwardly beside your bed and climbs up to lie next to you, sitting himself against your headboard. When you think about it, this is the first time he’s ever been in your room– and that includes during university. 

As he continues telling you about his new favourite TV shows, you find your eyelids growing heavy despite your best efforts to keep them open. No matter how hard you try to resist it, blinking rapidly, shifting slightly against your pillows in an attempt to stay present, you can’t. The last thing you register before sleep pulls you under completely is the sensation of your head tipping sideways, coming to rest against a broad, solid shoulder.

—

You’ve never seen the bar this busy. Usually, when you guys decide on doing happy hour after a shift, it’s a smaller crowd, your normal group plus a few stragglers from other floors, but today, word must have gotten out far, because you’re seeing people you didn’t even know worked at Hybe Health Co. 

Aside from a round someone in the nutrition department bought for the table, you keep your own drinking modest, uninterested in embarrassing yourself in front of colleagues you'll have to face again tomorrow. And also, you’ve only been back to work for two days after your fever, so alcohol probably isn’t the best idea. Luckily, you have Kai for entertainment instead: three shots deep at six in the evening on a Wednesday, and jumbling words together in a way that makes it impossible to even decipher what his original thought was.

Jungwon stays beside you for most of the night, his arm draped along the back of your chair, whispering things into your ear when he sees something funny. You spot Yunah and Eunchae a couple of seats down with some women, but catch the glances they keep cutting in your direction, eyes tracking from his arm to your face, and you decide that maybe it’ll be better to not engage with them this time, or else you’ll have to deal with their incessant teasing.

Why they still keep pushing for you to relieve the ~underlying tension~ is beyond you. You don't know how many more times you'll have to say you're just friends before it actually sinks into their thick skulls (said with love, obviously). 

Suddenly, a voice chimes in from your side. "Hi, sorry. Are you two together?"

You and Jungwon freeze and stare at each other briefly before you turn back to the girl standing there, cup in hand, eyebrows raised expectantly. Does it really seem like that?

"Nope. We’re not."

"Oh, okay." She doesn't seem particularly invested in the answer either way, redirecting her attention to Jungwon before you've even finished responding. She pulls the empty chair beside you closer, angling it so she's facing him directly, and then she's leaning in front of you to talk to him, effectively boxing you out of your own conversation.

Listen, you are all for women supporting women, but you would be lying if you said your patience wasn’t getting tested at this very moment. In the span of ten seconds, this girl’s voice has risen like four pitches, and no offence to him, but Jungwon isn’t that funny.

To his credit, your friend attempts a few times to loop you back in, throwing you a glance or repeating something you'd said earlier for her benefit, but she barely acknowledges you exist, her attention fixed entirely on him. Eventually, you’ve had enough of this, and stand up.

"Where are you going?" Jungwon's hand catches your wrist before you can fully step away.

"Just going to the washroom," you answer, easing your wrist free. If you weren’t so observant, you wouldn’t have caught the way the girl’s face lights up the second you’re out of his grasp, but you did. And it pisses you off. 

Huffing, you make your way to the washroom, taking a deep breath in front of the sink. Why the hell are you getting cockblocked when you’re not even trying to get cock? Like you’re purposefully friendzoning yourself! No mentally sane person would do that.

The tap water is cold and just what you need as you splash it onto your face. Jungwon pulls. That’s not a problem– you’ve known that for years. The problem is the fact that you're being blatantly disrespected by some random girl.

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

All those online meditation seminars you joined finally seem to be useful as you calm yourself down, and after some time, you head back out. 

You’re astonished at the sight you’re met with upon exiting: the seat you'd been sitting in is gone, occupied now by that same girl, her elbow propped casually on Jungwon's shoulder as she tilts herself into him.

And Jungwon, poor Jungwon, looks severely uncomfortable. His gaze drifts toward the hallway you'd disappeared down, once, then again a few seconds later, searching. The second time, he catches sight of you actually standing there, and his whole posture shifts, eyes going wide before he does a full double-take. 

Next thing you know, he too has stood up and approaches you. "I hated that," he whispers, arriving, hand settling against your lower back. 

You cackle, slipping into your best impression of him and lowering your voice. "Oh no, I'm Jungwon, and I get sooo much attention; everyone wants to talk to me. My life is so difficult."

"I see how it is," he uses his hand that's touching you to pinch at your skin, causing you to yelp. "This is how you want to treat me. After I so graciously took care of you when you were sick, fed you soup and everything." 

“Not my problem– that was of your own volition!”

"I should have left you there to rot."

"You should have," you agree, "and yet."

"And yet," he repeats, features softening.

Is this… flirting? Nope! Absolutely not! It’s just friendly banter between friends! Just two really good friends who get along well! As friends!

Clearing your throat, you take a small step back, putting a bit of distance between the two of you under the guise of grabbing a glass of water from a table nearby. Jungwon must be more of a lightweight than you thought; he’s just saying anything now.  

—

jungwon: yooo the weather's super nice today. wanna go for a walk during the break?

you: yeah i would love to!

jungwon: woah texting on the clock? crazy

you: literally says you

jungwon: seems like we’re both slacking off then

you: fake news i’m always on that grind

jungwon: true. you’re the best 

you: should we invite anyone else? i’m sure our friends would want to come

jungwon: lowkey no…

you: ok! no worries haha

jungwon: see you @ noon :)

That’s how you find yourself currently on a nice little stroll through the streets. The two of you are side by side, the warmth of the midday sun against your skin as you make your way down the path outside the office. He has his hands tucked into his pockets, looking over at you every so often. "So what are your plans after work?" he asks, stepping on a small branch that fell onto the sidewalk. 

"Hm, I don't know." You tilt your head, considering it. "I think I was planning on—"

Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket before you can finish the sentence, cutting you off mid-thought. You glance at the screen and see Sunghoon's name lighting it up, and you send Jungwon a quick, apologetic look before answering.

"Hey, what's up?" Slowing your pace slightly, you listen as Sunghoon's voice comes through, and almost immediately, your face breaks into a wide grin. "Wait, seriously? Oh my god, congratulations! I'm so proud of you, I always knew you could do it." 

You’re quiet for a moment, nodding along attentively as he speaks, even though he can't see you, before laughing again. "No, stop, you did all the work, I just answered a few emails." A pause, then your voice softens, gooey with affection. "You're going to do so well there, I mean it. You're amazing, you know that?" 

Jungwon is still walking beside you, silent, and though he can't make out the words on the other end, he can obviously hear the unmistakable low pitch of a man's voice leaking through the speaker. His eyes flick toward you, brows drawing together, a question forming on his face. You catch the look and hold up a single finger, mouthing "one sec" before turning your attention back to the call, missing the way his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

"Okay, okay, I'll let you go celebrate," you say eventually, slowing to a stop near a bench along the path. "Really though, I'm so happy for you. I'll call you soon, okay? Tell me everything then." You laugh once more at whatever the man on the phone says back before finally pulling the phone away from your ear and ending the call.

When you finally hang up, you're still smiling, tucking your phone back into your pocket. "Sorry about that."

"So…" Jungwon is trying to keep his tone nonchalant. "Who was that?"

"Oh! That was Sunghoon." It comes out easily.  

His eyebrows lift, genuine surprise flickering across his face. "You kept in touch with him?"

"No, no, we only reconnected within the last year or so." 

He hesitates, glancing at you sideways, something careful creeping into his voice. "Are you two... you know…”

"What?" You laugh, shaking your head. "No, nothing like that. He was just asking about the Master's program I did a while back, and he called to tell me he got accepted."

"Ohhh. Okay." Jungwon nods slowly, and a silence settles between you for a few steps, comfortable at first, then noticeably less so, until he clears his throat and says, apropos of nothing, "I'm not, either."

Confused, your gaze is questioning. "You're not what?"

"I'm not seeing anyone either," he says plainly, eyes fixed ahead on the path. 

Huh? Where did that come from, and why did he feel the need to inform you? Many questions start running through your head. 

"I never said I wasn't seeing anyone, though…”

Jungwon's head turns sharply, a flash of panic crossing his face. "Oh. I just assumed, since you never mentioned— I'm not saying that I don't think you'd have—" He stops, drags a hand through his hair, tries again. "You're gorgeous, funny, and like actually perfect, so I mean—"

He keeps going, tripping over one sentence after another, and you feel something cold start pooling low in your stomach as you watch him struggle. Questions start piling up in your head faster than you can sort through them. 

Did he just call you gorgeous? And perfect? 

"Jungwon." You cut him off gently. "Breathe. What are you trying to say?" 

He exhales a long and shaky breath. Then, "I like you. I have for a while now."

Oh god. Your chest lurches, but you’ve been stunned into silence. You should be happy, you know you should be happy, but what you feel instead is complete bewilderment. No part of you could have expected this; your mind is a thick cloud of disorienting confusion, thoughts scattering with no way to catch hold of a single one. It's as if your past self has come forward, trying to seize control, while the part of you that's still humiliated from the years of unrequited feelings, fights back with everything it has.

Involuntarily, your feet take a step back, and Jungwon's expression crumbles. 

"No, wait, I—" The words are strangled, and you press your palm briefly against your forehead. “I have to go. I'm sorry."

You turn before he can say anything else, before you have to watch his expression shift into whatever comes after disappointment, and you walk fast, practically sprinting back toward the office. Your heart is pounding somewhere near your throat. You don't dare look back to see whether he's still standing there. He is. 

—

The afternoon's a bust. Obviously, you are unable to concentrate on anything. 

How lame is it of you to have left him like that? Extremely. It was the wrong thing to do, and you know it, and yet you couldn't have made yourself stay there a second longer if you'd tried. But wow.

You'd spent your entire university career hopelessly crushing on him, only to get hit with the reality of him choosing someone else. Then you spent the next three years trying your best to change, to move on from it, working your way to the point where you couldn’t even allow yourself to consider pursuing anyone romantically, terrified of repeating the same mistake twice. And now, after all that, Jungwon is back, and this time he likes you? 

You’ve been putting in so much work to see him only as a friend, so deep in denial about the possibility of something changing, something shifting from platonic into anything else, that now that the opportunity is sitting right in front of you, you're frozen.

Make it make sense.

Groaning, you slam your head down onto your desk. Feelings are so hard. Jungwon is so… 

There’s no word to describe it, not one that captures the specific, infuriating combination of relief and terror currently weighing in your chest. 

You need to apologize to him, talk to him, explain everything, and the thought alone makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. A chill runs down your spine as you realize you'll probably just have to take the hit to your pride and tell him everything, as in, tell him about liking him in university. But who knows, maybe it'll give you the closure you need. 

This time, instead of waiting for him to come to you, you stand from your chair, smoothing down your blouse, on a mission to find him yourself. Upon exiting your office, you head down the hallway and toward his, trying not to let your resolve threaten to buckle with every step. You need to do this. 

You reach his door and lift your fist to knock, hesitating for only a brief moment, but when you move your knuckles to land against the wood, the door swings open from the other side, causing you to flinch back in surprise. On the other side stands Jungwon, jaw set and hair unkempt. Quickly, he grabs your hand that is still suspended mid-air and pulls you into his office, shutting the door behind him. 

“Jungwon wha–”

“Did I read it all wrong?” he cuts you off. He doesn’t let go of your hand, you notice, his fingers still wrapped loosely around yours as his eyes search your face. "Because if I overstepped, or made things weird between us, I need you to tell me right now so I can fix it.”

Your heart plummets in realization that this– the anxious edge in his voice, his clear stress– is entirely your doing. The irony of him asking if he’s read it wrong is not lost on you, either.

“No, I– you didn’t–” You pause, grappling for the right words. “But since when did you…?”

Understanding what you’re insinuating, he sighs heavily, taking a moment to think. "I'm not sure… Looking back on it I– don't get me wrong, you've always been stunning and easy to talk to,” he swallows thickly. "And I always enjoyed spending time with you."

He shifts slightly, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles as he keeps talking. "But I never really stopped to read between the lines… it just never occurred to me to look at it that way."

You nod slowly, letting what he says to settle, before deciding no version of this conversation works if you keep holding your own truth back.

"If I'm being honest I—" Taking a breath, you steady yourself. "I really liked you in university, ever since we met. And I thought… I thought there was a chance you returned those feelings." You glance down for a moment, licking your lips before continuing. "But then Jake told me you had a girlfriend the night before graduation.”

Jungwon goes still. "You... liked me?"

What.

Did.

He.

Just.

Say?

"You didn’t know? There's no way you didn't know." You're in a state somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.

He chuckles a little, the hand that isn't still holding yours running through his hair. "I was a guy in uni who spent his free time playing videogames or studying. If you didn't tell me, I wouldn't have a clue."

"And if I had?" you ask, quieter now, scanning his features. "Would that have changed anything?"

He's silent, clearly turning the question over, and as that silence keeps on stretching, you become more and more unsure of if you want to hear the answer or not.

"I don't know," he admits finally. "But what I do know is that right now, in this moment, I like you. And if there's a chance you still… if you feel something for me too—" 

"I do," you interrupt. This is scary; it’s probably one of the hardest conversations you’ve ever had. "But I mean, I've spent the last five months holding myself back. Refusing to see you in that light for fear of the exact same thing playing out." Something akin to both a laugh and a sigh breaks through your lips. "I don't know. It's stupid, probably." 

"It's not stupid." His hand tightens slightly around yours, and he tugs on it, bringing you into his arms. 

You go easily, your head coming to rest against his chest, and it's there, pressed so close, that you hear it: his heart, hammering away far faster than his calm exterior lets on. The sound brings a small smile out of you that you don't bother hiding, tucked as you are against him where he can't see your face anyway. 

"I don't know what to do from here," you whisper, the words muffled slightly against his shirt, your own arms coming to wrap around him.

"A good starting point would be letting me take you out on a date." His breath is warm along your ear, his arms tightening around your waist. 

His warmth is inviting, and you close your eyes, sinking further into him. "That sounds great."

Allowing yourself to feel these emotions freely, to embrace them, feels strange. Wrong, almost, even though it isn't. You'll have to do the work, at some point or another, and teach yourself not to push everything down. But for now, you’ll enjoy this moment as it is. 

Eventually, you pull back, though not without some reluctance. "I should get back to work; I still have things to finish."

But he doesn't let you go far, keeping a loose hold on you, his expression shifts, darker and more intense than before. "I really want to kiss you right now."

Your eyes widen, every part of you very aware of exactly where you are. "We, um, we're at work."

He laughs loudly at that, hands rubbing gently up and down your arms as if to soothe your sudden spike of nerves. "I know. I'll save it for our date." His eyes meet yours. "Are you free tonight? You never told me what your plans are.”

"Yes, I’m free," you squeak out, your voice betraying you completely.

After a few more minutes, you finally manage to peel yourself out of his grasp, murmuring a flustered goodbye before slipping out of his office and heading back toward your own, dying a giddy death. 

—

That night, he picks you up from your apartment, and you try not to blush too hard when you spot him through the video intercom, a bouquet cradled in his arms. When you step outside, he's already extending the flowers toward you with an exaggerated little bow, chin dipped, one arm sweeping out theatrically. 

"For you, my lady."

You swat at his chest with your free hand, cheeks warming instantly. "Stop, you're going to give me the ick."

"Bit late for that," he counters, mouth curling upward. "You took the flowers, and I’m pretty sure that means you secretly liked it.”

He laces his fingers through yours once you've managed to tuck the bouquet properly into the crook of your arm, tilting his head toward the end of the block. "Come on, the restaurant's this way."

The pace he sets is slow, and he swings your joined hands back and forth as you walk. "So," he says, glancing at you, "you liked me in university?"

You let out a long groan, tipping your face toward the sky. "Please, anything but that. It's genuinely the most humiliating chapter of my entire life."

"Why's that?"

"Because I spent four straight years thinking you felt the same, building up this whole fantasy in my head," you confess. "Only for Jake to bring me back down to Earth."

His grip on your hand tightens, his pace slackening. "Is that why you avoided me like crazy at graduation?"

Your gaze meets his, shocked. "You caught that?"

"I always picked up on you," he states.  "Maybe not in the way you were hoping for back then, but yeah, I noticed you, cared about having you around. When you went quiet on me at graduation, after everything we'd been through... I’ll be real, it actually stung a lot."

Guilt tugs sharply at your ribs. "I'm sorry. That was a pretty childish way to handle it."

He shakes his head, using his grip to tug you a bit closer. "Don't apologize, I get it. If anything, I should've put in more effort to keep us close after graduation instead of just letting the distance take over."

You're still chewing on that thought when the restaurant comes into view: it’s a modest little building wedged snugly between two taller storefronts, and you suddenly, you’re filled with excitement. "Wait, oh my god, I've wanted to try this place forever."

"Really? I stumbled onto it during my first week here," he says, pulling the door open and stepping aside to let you through first. "Been one of my favourite spots ever since."

After you’ve been seated, attended to, and the server has taken your orders, you finally ask the question that’s been sitting at the back of your mind all evening. 

"I’ve been wondering…" you start, tracing a finger along the rim of your water glass, "what made you see me differently? Like, actually, why do you like me now?" 

Jungwon goes quiet for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. "Truthfully, I, uh, I can't really pinpoint the exact moment it started. You just kind of started occupying my thoughts more and more, and I wanted to spend all my free time in your company, you know?" He rubs the back of his neck, working through how to phrase the rest. 

"Like I said, I've always thought you were pretty, but seeing you again after three years, you've, I don't know, grown into your features." He exhales, and you giggle at his wording. "And I really, really like your personality too, obviously. It's, it's different now, more- how do I put this?" his gaze flickers up to the ceiling as he thinks, "more you, I guess, if that makes any sense at all."

"It makes sense," you nod. "What can I say?" Sighing satisfactorily, you lean back against your seat smugly, "letting go of my feelings for you changed me for the better."

A smirk spreads across his face as he says poignantly, "but deep down, you didn't let go of those feelings, did you?"

"Hey!” Launching forward from your previous position, “I was perfectly content with just friendship," you assure and lift your chin with mock dignity. "I can go right back to that, you know. This whole date thing is entirely optional on my end."

"Absolutely not. That’s not how this works." He reaches across the table, catching your hand in his and pinning it there. Without breaking eye contact, he brings your hand slowly up to his mouth and kisses each knuckle, taking his time.

Your chest all but detonates. You stare at him, mouth slightly parted, any witty comeback you might have had evaporating the instant his lips make contact with your skin. Heat crawls up the back of your neck, circling your ears, before washing down your face. "You," you manage to get out, "cannot do that in public."

"Why not?" He finally releases your hand.

“You know why.”

“Sorry, I don't. Oh, would you look at that, the food's coming."

Sure enough, the server appears then, balancing two plates as she sets them down in front of you both with a quick rundown of what's what. The interruption breaks the moment cleanly, and you're almost grateful for it, giving your racing pulse a chance to settle back down to normal. Conversation shifts into more mundane territory as you eat, work gossip, plans for the upcoming weekend… if those plans include him….

Halfway through the meal, Jungwon pulls out his phone and angles it toward you. "Smile!"

You barely have time to react before the shutter clicks, catching you mid-bite with your eyebrows raised in surprise. Glowering at him, you ask, "What are you doing with that?"

Mischievously, "What if I sent this to the uni group chat?" 

"Hmmm..” you contemplate, tapping your chin curiosity. “I genuinely wonder how everyone would react." 

Wordlessly, he types something out and hits send, angling the screen briefly so you can catch the caption before it disappears: look who my beautiful date is. And within seconds, both your phones start buzzing furiously, one notification stacking on top of another in rapid succession, in what you can only assume to be messages like omg no way or FUCKING FINALLY!!!!!

The remainder of the night unfolds easily, and on the walk back, Jungwon all but demands stopping for ice cream, with no care for the evening chill, and both of you end up sharing a single cone, not only fighting for what flavours to choose, but also bickering lightly over who gets the last bite of the cone itself. 

Standing outside your building now, you don’t want your time together to end. “Thank you for tonight," you say, peering up at him. "I had a really good time." 

"Me too." Neither of you make a move to leave. 

In a sudden spurt of boldness, you offer, "Do you want to come up?" 

“Yes.” His answer comes practically before you even finish asking. 

No words are spoken as you ride up the elevator. You can feel him standing close beside you, close enough that your arm brushes his more than once, and each time it does, you feel a zing go down all the way to your... anyway. Neither of you look at the other directly, both opting to stare at the numbers ticking upward above the door, though you're fairly certain he's just as aware of you as you are of him.

He follows closely behind as you unlock your door, and the moment it clicks shut, he's crowding into your personal space. Lightly, his fingers press down on your wrists, pinning them to the wall as his eyelids droop and his focus lasers onto your lips.

"Can I kiss you now?"

His voice is the lowest you've ever heard it, rough around the edges, and irresistible.

"Yes," you breathe, barely more than a whisper.

Still pressing you gently against the wall, Jungwon releases your wrists, one hand rising to tilt your chin upward while the other settles firmly against your waist, drawing you in until there's no space left between you. He leans down slowly, giving you every chance to change your mind, and when his lips finally meet yours, it’s gentle. And soft. And tender. You melt into it instantly, hands coming up to wrap around his neck, fingers curling into the hair at his nape. The softness doesn't last long after that.

His grip on your waist tightens, hauling you flush against him, and the kiss deepens into something more passionate, hungrier.

You lose track of how you end up moving, stumbling backward together without ever breaking apart, his hands guiding you carefully around furniture. Somewhere along the way, you shed your jacket, and his follows shortly after, discarded on the floor of your hallway. By the time you reach your bedroom, you're both a mess, laughing between kisses, breathless and a little clumsy, falling back onto your bed together.

It's perfect, he's perfect, everything about tonight is perfect, right down to the ridiculous amount of butterflies still going haywire in your stomach every time his lips find yours again. Though nothing goes further than making out, it still manages to feel extremely intimate, more intimate somehow than anything you've shared with anyone in years.

And to think, this might not have happened if he hadn’t dared to confess to you his feelings. God knows you wouldn’t have. You’d locked up that part of your heart, with him being the sole owner of the key. 

Leaning into him further, you don’t feel anything except unbelievably, undeservedly lucky. Whatever came before this feels increasingly distant now, replaced by the joy of being, after so long, with someone who wants you just as much as you want them. 

---

a/n: ngl a part of me wanted to make this significantly more angsty, but i decided to go down the realistic route of two people maturing and acting like adults. i think it's fair to say that, in general, you shouldn't let a crush hold so much power over you. i've been there, and it sucks. please just be yourself bc that's who they're going to like more in the end 🧡 comments & reblogs are always appreciated!!

this term, you swore, would be different. you’d focus on your studies, on your friends, on anything but him. you’d stop daydreaming about what it would feel like if he looked at you the way he looked at the quidditch pitch—like it was the only thing that mattered. you’d stop wondering if he ever thought about you when you weren’t there.

because ni-ki wasn’t yours. he never would be.

and yet, when he slid into the seat beside you at breakfast, his knee pressing against yours under the table, your resolve crumbled all over again.

damn it.

   . . . 

you should’ve known better than to think this term would be easy.

the common room was its usual mess of noise and warmth—crackling fire, hushed gossip, the occasional shriek of laughter as someone recounted their latest mishap in potions. you were tucked into your favourite corner of the couch, a well-worn copy of advanced arithmancy open in your lap, though you hadn’t turned a page in at least twenty minutes. your friends were bickering good-naturedly beside you, debating whether transfiguration or charms was the more practical subject, but you weren’t really listening. your mind kept drifting, as it always did, to the one person you were desperately trying not to think about.

then the door burst open.

a group of seventh-years stumbled in, grinning like they’d just pulled off some grand scheme, and dumped a tray of shimmering, unnaturally bright sweets onto the low table in the centre of the room. the candies pulsed faintly, shifting colours like liquid trapped in sugar shells, looking clearly enchantwd. a few curious hands reached out, but the seventh-years just smirked and said, "dare you to try one," before sauntering off, leaving behind a ripple of nervous excitement.

you barely had time to roll your eyes before the common room door swung open again, and there he was.

ni-ki.

your breath caught.

he was still in his quidditch gear, his hair damp and tousled from the showers, his cheeks flushed from the chill of the evening air. your brother trailed behind him, complaining loudly about some foul during practise, but ni-ki wasn’t listening. he was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his whole face alight with that effortless joy that made your chest ache.

then his gaze flicked to the tray of sweets.

"what’s this?" he asked, already reaching for one, his fingers closing around a candy that glowed a dangerous shade of pink.

something in your gut twisted.

"ni-ki, don’t—" you started, scrambling to your feet, but it was too late. he popped it into his mouth without a second thought, chewing once before his entire expression shifted.

his eyes, sharp and playful, always so alive suddenly went soft and unfocused. then they locked onto you, wide and wondering, like he was seeing you for the first time. 

"you’re beautiful," he breathed, voice low and awed, as if the words had been pulled out of him against his will.

the common room went quiet. your friends stopped mid-sentence. your brother blinked, confused. and you? you couldn’t move.

ni-ki didn’t hesitate. he crossed the room in three long strides, and before you could even think to step back, his arms were around you, pulling you into a hug so tight it stole your breath. his cheek pressed against the curve of your neck, his exhale warm against your skin. his hands were tentative at first, fingers brushing your waist like he wasn’t sure he was allowed—then, as if something in him snapped, they fisted in the fabric of your sweater, dragging you even closer.

you froze.

his heartbeat thudded against yours, rapid and unsteady. his scent—fresh grass and something faintly sweet, like strawberries—flooded your senses. you could feel every shift of his body, every unsteady breath he took, and it was too much. your hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure where to land, but your traitorous heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it.

"ni-ki," you managed, voice embarrassingly shaky. "what are you—"

he didn’t let you finish. he just nuzzled closer, his nose brushing your jaw, and murmured, "you smell nice."

your brother choked on his drink. someone giggled. your face burned.

this was bad. this was so bad.

because even as your brain screamed at you to push him away, to laugh it off like it was nothing, your body betrayed you. your fingers curled into his quidditch jersey, clinging just a little too tightly. your breath hitched when his thumb brushed your hip, absentminded but deliberate. a tiny, reckless part inside of you never wanted him to let go.

the candy was obviously cursed. it had to be. there was no other explanation for the way ni-ki was holding you like you were something precious, like he’d been waiting years to do this.

but then his lips brushed your ear, his voice so soft only you could hear it.

"i’ve wanted to do this for so long," he whispered, and your stomach dropped.

because what if it wasn’t just the candy?

what if, underneath the enchantment, some part of him meant it?

your brother’s voice cut through the haze. "alright, what the hell did you give him?"

laughter erupted around you, but you barely heard it. ni-ki’s arms tightened around you, his breath warm against your skin, and you realised with terrifying clarity—

this was only the beginning.

the next few minutes passed in a blur. your friends were howling with laughter, your brother was torn between amusement and concern, and ni-ki—ni-ki wouldn’t let go. not when you tried to gently pry his fingers from your sweater, not when your brother clapped him on the shoulder and said, "mate, you’ve got to snap out of it." he just held on tighter, his face buried in your hair, murmuring things that made your cheeks burn.

"your hair’s so soft."

"you’re perfect."

"i love the way you laugh."

each word sent a fresh wave of panic through you. because this wasn’t just some silly, fleeting crush anymore. this was ni-ki—your brother’s best friend, the boy you’d spent years pretending not to adore—holding you like you were the only thing that mattered, saying things you’d only ever dreamed of hearing.

and you had no idea what to do.

"we should get him to madam pomfrey," your brother said finally, though he was grinning like this was the best thing he’d seen all year.

ni-ki made a noise of protest, his arms tightening around you. "no," he mumbled against your shoulder. "stay with y/n."

your heart skipped.

your brother sighed. "alright, fine. but you’re coming with me, lover boy."

ni-ki whined—actually whined—but your brother was relentless, peeling him off you with a strength born of years of dealing with his antics. ni-ki’s hands lingered, his fingers brushing yours as he was dragged away, his eyes never leaving your face.

"i’ll find you later," he promised, voice still thick with whatever enchantment had taken hold of him.

your stomach flipped.

as the common room door swung shut behind them, the room erupted into chaos—laughter, theories about what kind of spell had been on those candies, bets on how long it would take for ni-ki to recover. but you just stood there, your skin still tingling where he’d touched you, your heart racing like you’d just run a mile.

when madam pomfrey had examined him the night before, her lips had pursed in that particular way that meant trouble. 

"this isn't your standard amortentia variant," she'd muttered, her wand tracing glowing patterns over ni-ki's dazed expression. "it's one of those experimental brews the seventh years keep inventing. it'll have to run its course naturally." 

you'd nearly choked when she'd added, "could be a day, could be a week," just as ni-ki blissfully unaware of your internal crisis, chose that moment to nuzzle his face against your hand like an overgrown puppy, his lips brushing your knuckles in a way that sent electric jolts up your arm.

"my moonbeam," he sighed dreamily, completely ignoring madam pomfrey's exasperated eye-roll. "your skin is so soft. are you made of clouds? you must be made of clouds."

your brother, the absolute traitor, was filming the entire thing on his enchanted camera.

but nothing, not even the humiliation of the hospital wing visit could have prepared you for the absolute nightmare that was the next morning.

the morning light filtering through your dormitory curtains was soft and golden, promising a slow, lazy day. you were still half-buried in your blankets, caught in that hazy space between sleep and waking, when the first sign of trouble came.

a faint creak of the door. the rustle of fabric. you assumed it was just one of your roommates returning from an early shower, until—

thud.

a muffled "oof" that you'd recognise anywhere.

your eyes flew open just in time to see ni-ki picking himself up from where he'd tripped over someone's abandoned shoes, his hair sticking up in every direction, still wearing yesterday's rumpled clothes. when he saw you looking, his entire face lit up like you'd cast the sun itself.

"good morning, sunshine!" he chirped, already climbing onto your bed before you could process what was happening. 

the mattress dipped under his weight as he settled at the foot of your bed, beaming at you like this was completely normal. 

"i waited outside for two hours. did you know the stairs turn into a slide if you're a boy? so rude. i had to bribe a first-year to tell me the password instead."

you sat frozen, your sleep-addled brain struggling to catch up. behind you, one of your roommates choked on her toothpaste. another pulled her blanket over her head with a groan.

"ni-ki," you hissed, acutely aware of your messy hair and the fact your pyjama top had slipped slightly off one shoulder, "you can't just—"

"but i missed you," he interrupted, as if this explained everything. his fingers found yours, lacing them together with a reverence that made your pulse stutter. "the second you left last night, my heart started aching. is that normal?" 

he brought your hand to his chest, pressing your palm flat against the steady beat beneath his shirt. "it feels normal when it's you."

you were going to find those seventh-years and strangle them with their own shoelaces.

his thumb traced the arch of your eyebrow, then drifted down to the curve of your cheek. you stopped breathing. the early morning light gilded his features in soft gold, catching on the tiny scar above his lip from that quidditch accident last year. you'd never been this close before, close enough to count his faint freckles, to see the flecks of amber in his dark eyes.

before you could react, he was leaning in, pressing a feather-light kiss to your temple. then another just below your ear. then another along your jawline—each one lingering just a second too long, his breath warm against your skin.

"ni-ki—" you gasped, but he just hummed and continued his lazy path of destruction, his lips brushing the sensitive spot behind your ear that made your toes curl.

"you're so soft here," he murmured against your skin, his free hand coming up to cradle your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone as his mouth continued its devastating exploration. "and here." another kiss, this time to the corner of your jaw. "and here." his lips grazed the pulse point beneath your ear, and you swore your heart stopped.

when you tried to squirm away, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you back against him with embarrassing ease. 

"where do you think you're going, snugglebug?" he teased, nuzzling into your neck. "i just got comfortable."

you were going to die. actually die. right here in your pyjamas with ni-ki's stupidly perfect lips tracing nonsense patterns across your skin.

"this isn't—you can't just—" you stammered, but your traitorous body was already melting into his touch, your hands fisting in the sheets to keep from reaching for him.

ni-ki pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his own dark with something you couldn't name. 

"can't just what?" he challenged softly, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. "can't tell you how pretty you look in the morning? can't kiss every single mole on your face?" to demonstrate, he pressed his lips to the tiny one near your eyebrow. then the one by your nose. "can't adore you the way i've always wanted to?"

your breath caught. that couldn't be—he didn't mean—

before you could overthink it, his mouth found yours in a kiss so sweet it made your chest ache. just a brush of lips, barely there, but it shattered you completely. when he pulled away, his smile was brighter than the sunrise streaming through your windows.

"pancakes?" he asked, as if he hadn't just rewritten your entire universe with one kiss.

you could only nod, dazed.

as ni-ki helped you up (his hands lingering at your waist, his lips stealing one last kiss from your cheek), you caught your dormmates' wide-eyed stares in the mirror. one mouthed "holy shit" while another gave you a thumbs up.

you were so, so screwed.

. . .

breakfast in the great hall was nothing short of a public execution.

the moment you sat down, ni-ki was there, sliding onto the bench so close his thigh pressed flush against yours, his arm immediately curling around your shoulders like a possessive, overly affectionate scarf. when you reached for the pumpkin juice, his hand shot out, intercepting yours with a delighted gasp.

"let me," he insisted, pouring it for you with the kind of exaggerated care usually reserved for handling ancient, fragile artifacts. 

he even made sure to wipe the rim of the glass with his napkin before handing it to you, his eyes sparkling. "you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, my precious little pumpkin."

you choked on air.

across the table, your brother was already losing it, his spoon clattering into his porridge as he doubled over with laughter. tears were actually streaming down his face. 

"oh, this is too good," he wheezed, slapping the table. "this is the best day of my life."

you kicked him under the table hard enough to make him yelp. "stop encouraging him."

"encourage him?" your brother gasped, wiping his eyes. "merlin’s beard, i’m taking notes!" to your absolute horror, he pulled out an actual notebook and scribbled something down. "'my precious little pumpkin'—that’s gold."

ni-ki, blissfully unaware of your suffering, was now meticulously cutting your toast into heart shapes with the precision of a master chef. 

"you need proper nutrition," he informed you, deadly serious, as if this were a matter of life and death. "how else will you stay as perfect as you are?"

you buried your face in your hands, willing the ground to swallow you whole.

it only got worse. when you tried to take a bite of your eggs, ni-ki intercepted your fork, holding it up to your lips himself. 

"say 'ah,'" he coaxed, grinning when you glared at him. "come on, sweetheart. you’ll waste away if you don’t eat properly."

"i can feed myself," you hissed through gritted teeth.

"but where’s the fun in that?" he pouted, leaning in until his nose brushed your cheek. "let me take care of you. just for today."

you caved, because apparently your willpower had abandoned you the second ni-ki decided to turn your life into a romantic comedy. as you reluctantly took the bite, his entire face lit up like you’d just handed him the moon.

"good?" he asked, thumb brushing the corner of your lip to catch a crumb that wasn’t even there.

you were going to combust.

your brother, the absolute traitor, was now narrating the entire ordeal to jake like it was a quidditch commentary. "and ni-ki goes in for the kill—oh! he’s wiping her mouth! ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing history!"

you threw a piece of toast at his head.

ni-ki, meanwhile, had moved on to rearranging the fruit on your plate into what appeared to be a smiley face. "you didn’t eat enough blueberries yesterday," he informed you, as if he’d been keeping track. "they’re good for your brain. and your eyes. and—"

"my soul?" you deadpanned.

"exactly," he said, completely serious, popping one into your mouth before you could protest.

by the time breakfast was over, half the great hall was watching your personal nightmare unfold with varying degrees of amusement and envy. ni-ki, still glued to your side, was now insisting on carrying your bag for you, despite your protests.

"you’re ridiculous," you muttered as he slung it over his shoulder, his free hand immediately finding yours again.

"ridiculous for you," he corrected, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

your brother fake-gagged behind you.

you were going to murder them both.

classes were somehow worse. in charms, ni-ki kept whispering ridiculous compliments every time the professor turned his back. 

"your eyelashes are like tiny works of art," he sighed, resting his chin on your shoulder. "do they sparkle in the sunlight or is that just magic?"

when you shushed him, he pouted so dramatically that even the professor noticed. "mr. nishimura, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"just that y/n is the most brilliant witch in hogwarts," ni-ki announced proudly, as if this was a perfectly normal answer. "and possibly the universe."

the class erupted into giggles. your face burned so hot you were surprised your hair didn't catch fire.

by lunchtime, you'd developed a new survival strategy: complete and utter surrender. when ni-ki insisted on carrying all your books (stacked precariously in his arms because he refused to use a charm that might "strain their delicate pages"), you stopped protesting. when he fed you bites of his treacle tart ("you need the sugar, my little sugarplum"), you accepted it with minimal grumbling. when he held your hand everywhere you went, his thumb tracing absent circles on your skin, you stopped trying to pull away.

it was easier this way.

(and if part of you secretly thrilled at the warmth of his hand in yours, well, no one needed to know that.)

the common room was warm, the warmth making your eyelids heavy and your thoughts slow. the fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows across the scattered books and half-finished homework. you were trying to focus on your essay, really trying, but it was hard when ni-ki kept shifting beside you, his arm draped over the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally playing with the ends of your hair.

every time you moved, his hand would tighten just a little, like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on. when you reached for your pen, he intercepted your hand, lacing his fingers through yours with a quiet hum. 

"your hands are cold," he murmured, bringing them to his lips to blow warm air across your skin. the gesture was so tender it made your chest ache.

across the room, your brother and his friends were playing some loud card game, but you could feel their eyes darting over to you every few seconds, their grins barely hidden. you shot them a glare, but it only made them laugh harder.

"are you comfortable?" ni-ki asked suddenly, his free hand brushing a stray hair behind your ear. his touch lingered, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone like he was memorising it. "you seem tense."

you swallowed. "i’m fine."

he frowned, his dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks as he studied your face. then, without warning, he pulled you sideways until your back was pressed against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist like he was afraid you’d slip away. 

"better?" his breath was warm against your ear, his voice low and sleepy.

"ni-ki—"

"shh," he interrupted, nuzzling into the space between your shoulder and neck. "just relax. i’ve got you."

one hand traced slow circles on your stomach, the other playing with your hair, his fingers moving in a rhythm that made it impossible to think straight.

it was too much. the warmth of him, the way he smelled like fresh laundry and something sweet, the steady beat of his heart against your back—it was all so dangerously comforting. against your better judgement, you felt yourself sinking into him, the tension leaving your shoulders one breath at a time.

until he spoke again.

"you smell amazing," he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear. "like vanilla and... something else. just you." 

his arms tightened slightly. "i could stay like this forever."

a choked noise escaped your throat. the entire common room seemed to be watching now, their conversations forgotten in favour of your humiliation. even the portraits on the walls were leaning in, their painted eyes wide with amusement.

"ni-ki, people are staring," you hissed, trying to squirm away.

he made a soft, wounded sound, his grip tightening. "let them stare," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. then, quieter, just for you: "you’re perfect. why wouldn’t they want to look at you?"

your face burned. "that’s not—"

"i mean it," he continued, undeterred. his chin rested on your shoulder, his voice dreamy. 

"the way your eyes get all squinty when you’re trying not to laugh. how you bite your lip when you’re thinking." his fingers found yours again, lifting them to press a kiss to each knuckle. "the little noises you make when—"

"okay!" you lurched forward, nearly falling off the couch in your haste to escape. "i think i left my—my astronomy book in the library!"

ni-ki’s face fell. "i’ll come with—"

"no!" you stood too fast, your vision swimming. "i mean—you should stay. here. with my brother." you shot your brother a desperate look, but the traitor just grinned and raised his drink in salute.

for a long moment, ni-ki just stared at you, his eyes suspiciously shiny. then his lower lip actually trembled. 

"you don’t want me to come," he said quietly, and it wasn’t a question.

the entire room went silent. even the fire seemed to pause.

you opened your mouth. closed it. the words "it’s not that" died on your tongue when his expression crumpled, like you’d just kicked a puppy.

your brother sighed dramatically. "just take him with you," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "before he starts crying and ruins my winning streak."

ni-ki’s face lit up like someone had flipped a switch. he was on his feet in an instant, gathering your books and pens with single-minded determination. 

"i’ll carry your stuff," he announced, already stacking your papers neatly. "and your sweater. and that water bottle you forgot yesterday. and—"

you buried your face in your hands as the room erupted into laughter. somewhere to your left, someone whispered, "ten bucks says he proposes by friday."

as ni-ki proudly handed you your neatly stacked belongings, beaming like he’d just won the lottery, you came to a terrible realisation:

you were so, so screwed.

the afternoon sun was warm on your skin as you sat on the weathered wooden bench near the greenhouses, your textbook propped open in your lap for the quiz you had in next period—or at least, it had been, before ni-ki decided your lap made for a much better seat. the spell still hadn’t worn off.

once again he was all up in your personal space, sprawled across you now, his long limbs tangled with yours, his arms curled tightly around your waist like he was afraid you might vanish if he loosened his grip even slightly. his head was nestled against your shoulder, his soft hair brushing your jaw, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing against your collarbone, warm and familiar.

his fingers traced absent, lazy circles on your arm, his touch feather-light but enough to send tiny sparks skittering across your skin. you tried to focus on the page in front of you, really tried, but it was impossible when ni-ki kept nuzzling closer every time you shifted, his lips brushing the curve of your neck in a way that made your pulse stutter. it was ridiculous. embarrassing, even. and yet—despite yourself—you felt your body softening into his, your free hand coming up to card through his hair almost without thinking.

just then, the crunch of footsteps on gravel made you glance up. your brother stood a few feet away, eyebrows nearly in his hairline, a slow grin spreading across his face. 

“wow,” he said, crossing his arms, “you two might as well get a room already.”

ni-ki lifted his head just enough to flash him a cheeky smile, his arms tightening around you. “we tried,” he said, voice dripping with faux innocence, “but she said she had class.”

your brother barked out a laugh so loud it startled a nearby group of first-years, who scurried away like frightened mice. you, on the other hand, felt your entire face ignite. 

“ni-ki,” you hissed, smacking his shoulder, “stop being a weirdo.”

but he only chuckled, low and warm, the sound vibrating against your chest. before you could scold him further, he pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just a second too long. “you’re too warm to resist,” he murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

you wanted to protest. wanted to shove him off and tell him to quit messing around, to stop saying things that made your heart do stupid, traitorous flips in your chest. but the words died in your throat when he tilted his head up to look at you, his dark eyes soft and crinkled at the corners, his smile so fond it made your ribs ache.

your brother whistled. “yep, i’m definitely telling mom about this.”

“don’t you dare,” you snapped, but your voice lacked any real heat—especially when ni-ki shifted in your lap, his nose brushing yours, his fingers threading through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“let him,” ni-ki said, grinning. “i’ve got nothing to hide.”

you groaned, dropping your forehead against his shoulder. this was a disaster. you were a disaster. and yet—when ni-ki’s laughter rumbled against you, when his thumb brushed over your knuckles in that stupidly gentle way of his—you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

that same evening you decided to sneak off to the library to finally get some studying done, but ni-ki had caught you in two minutes with a pouty look on his face. so, here you were now—at the library which had always been your sanctuary, a quiet place where you could escape everything—until now. the flickering candlelight made the words in your potions textbook blur together, but you hadn't registered anything in front of you in at least fifteen minutes. not with ni-ki pressed against your back like a second shadow, his chin hooked over your shoulder as he lazily flipped through your notes with one hand while the other traced mindless patterns on your thigh.

"you're skipping the good parts," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, his breath warm against your neck. his finger landed on a passage about amortentia variants. "this is where it gets interesting."

you swallowed hard, forcing your voice steady. "we're supposed to be researching counters, not reading about how love potions work."

ni-ki hummed, nuzzling closer until his lips brushed the sensitive spot behind your ear. "maybe i like knowing how it works," he whispered. "maybe i want to understand why i can't stop thinking about you."

the book nearly slipped from your hands. "that's—that's just the potion talking."

"is it?" he shifted suddenly, turning you to face him with surprising gentleness. the candlelight caught in his dark eyes, making them glow. "then why did i watch you all last term? why did i always find excuses to sit by you in the great hall? why—"

"shh!" you glanced frantically at the librarian, who was glaring from her desk. "you're going to get us kicked out."

ni-ki only grinned, unrepentant, leaning in until his forehead rested against yours. "worth it," he breathed. his fingers tangled with yours, squeezing gently. "you're so pretty when you're flustered."

"you're impossible," you muttered, but the protest was weak—especially when he brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to each knuckle with exaggerated care.

"only for you." his thumb brushed over your racing pulse. "your heart's going crazy. is that the potion too?"

you couldn't answer. not when he was looking at you like that—like you were the only thing that mattered. not when his free hand came up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering at your jawline.

the moment stretched, fragile and breathless, until ni-ki suddenly yawned, the spell breaking as he slumped against you with a quiet groan. 

"m'sleepy," he mumbled, his words slurring as he nuzzled into your neck. "your hoodie smells nice. like... like vanilla and that lavender soap you use."

you stiffened. "how do you know what soap i use?"

he didn’t answer, already half-asleep against you, his arms slipping around your waist like living seatbelts. you tried to return to your research, really tried, but how could you focus when every other page was punctuated by ni-ki's soft murmurs of "love you" and "so warm" against your skin? when his fingers would tighten unconsciously whenever you shifted, as if afraid you'd disappear?

frustrated, you turned another page with more force than necessary, your eyes scanning for anything about countering experimental love potions. that's when you saw it—a faded footnote nearly obscured by water damage:

"when the subject already harbours affection for the potion's target, the effects intensify tenfold, blurring the lines between enchantment and genuine feeling. in such cases, the potion acts not as creator, but as catalyst—removing inhibitions and amplifying existing emotions that the brewer may have otherwise concealed."

the words hit you like a bludger to the chest. your hands trembled as memories surfaced—ni-ki always volunteering to be your partner in potions, his laughter a little too bright when you brushed against him. the way he'd show up in the library "by coincidence" whenever you studied alone. how his teasing had always carried an edge of something warmer, something deeper you'd been too afraid to name.

"y/n?" ni-ki's voice was thick with sleep, but his gaze was startlingly clear as he lifted his head. "you okay? your heart's going crazy again." 

"i found something," you whispered.

he leaned in, his nose brushing yours as he peered at the book. too close. always too close. you could count his eyelashes from here, see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. 

"huh," he said after a moment, surprisingly lucid. "so you're telling me i didn't stand a chance?"

"what?"

ni-ki smiled, slow and devastating. "even without the potion," he murmured, his breath mingling with yours, "i was already gone for you. this just... made it harder to hide." 

his thumb brushed your lower lip, feather-light. "do you hate that?"

you couldn't breathe. couldn't think. the library, the book, the world outside this moment—none of it mattered. not when ni-ki was looking at you like you were his entire universe. not when his confession hung between you, raw and terrifying and beautiful.

the librarian's sharp cough shattered the moment. "if you two can't keep quiet," she snapped, "i'll have to ask you to leave."

ni-ki didn't even glance her way. his eyes stayed locked on yours, his fingers still tracing nonsense patterns on your wrist. "well?" he whispered, so quiet only you could hear. "do you want me to stop?"

that was the problem. you didn't. not really. not when every touch set your skin on fire, not when his sleepy "i love you"s had started to sound like home.

your silence was answer enough. ni-ki's grin could have powered the castle lamps as he tucked you back against his side, pressing one last kiss to your temple before nuzzling into your hair. "knew it," he murmured triumphantly.

and as you sat there, surrounded by dusty books and the steady rhythm of ni-ki's breathing, you realised with terrifying clarity that you had no idea how you would deal with this once he gets back to his normal self.

because somewhere between his whispered confessions and the way his hands always found yours, your heart had stopped questioning whether his feelings were real—and started wondering when yours had become so painfully obvious.

the next morning, you stirred awake to the unfamiliar weight of someone pressed flush against your back, their arms locked securely around your waist like living chains. for one disoriented second, your sleep-fogged brain couldn't process why your bed felt smaller, warmer—until ni-ki nuzzled into the nape of your neck with a sleepy sigh, his lips brushing your skin in a way that sent immediate sparks down your spine.

you stiffened, memories flooding back - last night's study session in the library that had stretched too late, your reluctant agreement to let him walk you to your dorm, and then...oh. then his pleading eyes in the dim torchlight, his fingers playing with yours as he'd whispered, "just five minutes? i'll be good." and like the weak-willed fool you were, you'd caved, cracking the door just enough for him to slip in before anyone noticed.

except apparently "five minutes" had turned into him sneaking under your covers when you'd fallen asleep, his body curled around yours like a second shadow. even now, his knee was wedged between yours, his chest rising and falling against your back in a steady rhythm that suggested he'd been awake for a while, just...holding you.

"morning," ni-ki murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear. you shivered, feeling his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. 

you tried to turn, to protest this ridiculousness, but his arms only tightened, pulling you back flush against him with surprising strength.

 "don't move," he whined, his breath hot against your neck as he scattered kisses along your shoulder. 

his hand slid up from your waist to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone in a gesture so tender it made your chest ache. "so perfect."

"ni-ki," you started, but the protest died in your throat when his teeth grazed the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting down just enough to make you gasp. he soothed the sting with his tongue, then did it again slightly lower, his free hand slipping under your sleep shirt to splay across your stomach possessively.

"mine," he murmured against your skin between kisses that were quickly turning into something more. 

his lips travelled up the column of your throat, sucking deliberately until you knew without looking he was leaving marks—dark, unmistakable hickeys that would be impossible to hide later. when you squirmed, he pinned you gently but firmly, his thigh sliding more firmly between yours as he continued his devastating path along your collarbone.

"ni-ki, stop—" you gasped, but it came out breathless, unconvincing even to your own ears.

he lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes, his own dark with something that made your stomach flip. "make me," he challenged, voice low and rough. when you didn't respond, too busy trying to remember how to breathe, he grinned that stupid, heart-stopping grin before ducking back down to worry another bruise into your skin, this time high enough that no collar would hide it.

"you're terrible," you managed, but your hands had somehow found their way into his hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands as his mouth worked magic on your throat.

ni-ki hummed, the vibration against your skin making you shiver. 

"your terrible," he corrected, punctuating each word with a kiss. he shifted suddenly, rolling you onto your back so he could loom over you, his hands framing your face as he took in the damage—the blooming purple marks scattered across your neck, the flush creeping down your chest.

his expression turned unbearably smug, "pretty."

before you could respond, he was kissing you properly, slow and deep and devastating, his fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head just how he wanted it. when he finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he pressed his forehead to yours with a quiet sigh.

"how are you even real," he murmured, the ridiculous nickname paired with the way his thumb traced your swollen lips making your stomach swoop. "my perfect, perfect y/n."

you should've pushed him away. should've reminded him this wasn't real, that it was just the potion. but as the morning light painted gold across his features, as his hands moved over you with a reverence that stole your breath, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

. . .

you didn’t hear it from ni-ki.

it was your brother who told you, somewhere between transfiguration and charms, like it was nothing. like it didn’t matter. he was shoving books into his bag, not even looking at you when he said it. 

“potion wore off last night,” he muttered, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

your hands froze around the strap of your bag. 

“ni-ki didn’t say anything?” you asked, your voice too light, too careful. your heart was suddenly pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

your brother just shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “he seemed kind of… weird about it.”

and that was it. no grand moment, no dramatic shift. no lingering looks or whispered explanations. just—over. like none of it had ever happened. like you hadn’t spent a week tangled up in him, learning the shape of his laughter against your skin, the way his hands always found yours like they belonged there. like he hadn’t looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

so you did the only thing you could. you pretended.

the next two days you acted like nothing had changed. like you hadn’t once been his entire world. when you passed him in the corridor, you nodded politely, your face carefully blank. when he held the door open for you, you gave him a stiff smile and nothing more. in charms class, you sat two desks away, your eyes fixed stubbornly on your parchment, even when you felt his gaze lingering on the side of your face. and when his shoulder brushed yours by accident in the crowded hallway, you barely let yourself flinch, barely let yourself remember how those same hands had traced every inch of you like you were something precious.

it was fine. it had to be fine. this was just how things were supposed to be—back to normal, back to before. it was safer this way. less humiliating.

(because what if he remembered everything? what if he remembered the way you’d melted into his touch, what if he knew—)

you swallowed the thought down like acid.

it was just the potion, after all.

except—

except sometimes, when you weren’t paying attention, you’d catch him staring. his expression unreadable, his fingers flexing at his sides like he was stopping himself from reaching out. and once, just once, when you turned a corner too quickly and nearly collided with him, his hands came up instinctively to steady you—just for a second—before he remembered himself and let go like you’d burned him.

you told yourself you imagined the way his breath hitched.

you told yourself a lot of things.

but then the same evening after class you were heading towards the common room, nearly at the fat lady's portrait when you felt it—the familiar prickle at the back of your neck that always meant ni-ki was nearby. you quickened your pace instinctively, but before you could turn the corner, arms wrapped around you from behind in a hold so warm and familiar it made your breath stutter. his chest pressed flush against your back, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he exhaled shakily against your neck.

"why have you been ignoring me?"

his voice was softer than you'd ever heard it, barely above a whisper, but it resonated through you like thunder. your hands hovered uncertainly over his arms where they were locked around your waist, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

"i haven't," you lied, but it sounded weak even to your own ears.

ni-ki hummed, the vibration travelling through your back and settling somewhere deep in your chest. 

"you have," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear in a way that made your knees weak. "you stopped talking to me. stopped looking at me like..." his voice cracked slightly, "like i matter to you."

you swallowed hard, staring resolutely at the wall ahead. "i just figured... things went back to normal. this is how we were before."

his arms tightened almost imperceptibly around you. "i thought you were embarrassed," he admitted quietly, his breath warm against your neck. 

"when the potion wore off, i didn’t know how to face you. i thought—i thought you hated how i acted. how clingy i was. how much i—" he cut himself off, exhaling sharply. "but then you started avoiding me, and i couldn’t just sit there and do nothing."

your heart pounded so violently you were certain he could feel it. "ni-ki..."

"you do know that i like you, right?" his voice dropped lower, more vulnerable than you'd ever heard it. 

"you know how love potions work. when someone's already..." he hesitated, his grip on you shifting slightly, "when someone's already in love, it makes everything stronger. more intense. everything i did, everything i said to you—i meant all of it."

slowly, so slowly, you turned in his arms. he let you, his hands sliding to your waist to steady you as you faced him properly for the first time in days. his eyes were darker than you remembered, full of something raw and open that made your breath catch.

"so you actually liked me before the potion?" you whispered, your voice barely audible even in the quiet hallway.

ni-ki sighed, one hand coming up to brush a loose strand of hair from your face with trembling fingers. 

"i've liked you since third year when you hexed that sunghoon kid for stepping on my broom," he admitted, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. "i just... never thought you'd look at me that way."

your hands found purchase in the front of his robes, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing keeping you upright. "so all that time... the cuddling, the stupid nicknames, the way you'd kiss my forehead when you thought i was asleep—"

"things i've wanted to do for years," he interrupted softly, his other hand coming up to cradle your face. his touch was feather-light, reverent, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he pressed too hard. "the potion just... gave me the courage to actually do them."

you could feel his pulse racing where his wrist brushed against your neck, could see the nervous hope shining in his eyes despite the confident set of his jaw. it was this—this vulnerability from someone usually so self-assured—that finally broke you.

ni-ki's breath hitched when you leaned into his touch, his eyes darting between yours. 

"can i kiss you now?" he asked, his voice rough with barely restrained want. "properly? without any potions or excuses?"

your answer was to rise up on your toes and close the distance between you.

his lips were softer than you imagined, moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. one of his hands slid into your hair while the other pulled you flush against him, eliminating what little space remained between you. you could feel the way his breath stuttered when your fingers tangled in his hair, could taste the quiet sigh he let out when you kissed him back with equal fervour.

it was slow and sweet and so devastatingly perfect that you forgot to breathe. ni-ki kissed you like he was memorising you, like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment and wanted to savour every second. when you finally pulled back, foreheads resting together, his cheeks were flushed and his lips were kiss-swollen and he was looking at you like you'd hung the moon.

"no more pretending?" you whispered, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

ni-ki grinned, bright and unrestrained, before capturing your lips again in a kiss that left no room for doubt. "never again," he murmured against your mouth, his arms tightening around you.

"i'm done hiding."

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The Witch's Council chambers was an old place outside town that smelled like wood, incense and power. You could easily sense the magic and power like it was engraved in the air, strong and ancient. But the old-fashioned look was interrupted by modern touches: new chairs, a wall projector and council members with iPads, some others playing with their phones. Not the entire council was present; only the president, Na Seorin, and the vice president, Kim Junseo, Minju's father. Off to one side stood the council secretary, Lee Sunjae, who seemed more engrossed in his phone than in what was happening around him, wearing a deep, concentrated frown. He was very, very focused on his phone and at some point he even leaned towards Seorin, asking her if she could send him lives on Candy Crush. She silenced him with an unimpressed look.

There was a small jury of witches and warlocks that you obviously knew, uncles and aunts and even parents of some friends, people who you grew up around. You were sitting with Minju on a wooden bench at the front, being judged in a very dramatic fashion in your opinion. Your back was straight and your knees touching and Minju wore the same position, you could feel the nervousness radiating from her. You didn’t quite know why you'd been summoned there with her, but hell, you wouldn't open your mouth to incriminate yourself until someone else started the whole thing. What was worse, you and Minju didn't have time to talk and organize a lie together.

‘’We are here to clarify the events of last Friday that have caught our attention,’’ Minju’s dad started, voice calm. He turned to face the jury. ‘’We have sufficient reasons to believe that both witches are involved.’’

You raised both eyebrows and tilted your head, wondering what on earth was going on. You weren’t involved in shit. Beside you, Minju whimpered under her breath, probably knowing where this whole thing was heading. Junseo turned his attention towards you and it took everything in you not to shrink under his steel gaze. He looked like a very offended father. 

‘’You are a well-known associate of Kim Minju. You grew up together and are very close, as we all know. Responsible, respectful, talented with magic, and disciplined.’’

‘’Thank you, sir,’’ you muttered, lowering your head humbly and nodding. You heard one juror behind you cooing and telling another how polite you were. 

‘’Did Minju attend a fraternity party Friday night?’’ He asked.

Oh, so that's what this was all about. You lied without even thinking, in a steady voice, even frowning slightly as if you were confused that he even asked you that. ‘’Um, of course not. She spent the night with me; we were catching up on some reading. It was a quiet night, and we went to bed early.’’

You knew perfectly well that was a damn lie. The last thing Minju would do is spend a Friday cooped up inside studying instead of following Jungwon, her campus crush, to parties. You knew Minju was pretty easygoing and a lightweight, so alcohol wasn't exactly the wisest thing to give her, since chaos usually followed her wherever she went. When you asked her the next day how the party was, Minju only remembered maybe a quarter of it, not even a half. You weren't entirely sure what Minju had done to warrant a damn jury of witches, but you were going to defend your best friend no matter what anyway. Minju was... prone to getting into strange situations. You were used to it. 

You turned your face and smiled innocently at the jury trying to sell your act; some thoughtful murmurs reached you while others simply nodded in agreement. You looked at Junseo as if nothing was wrong, with an open and friendly expression, nothing challenging or mocking. His eyes studied your expression and Minju's in a very familiar way, like when you were little and he wanted to find out which of you had eaten the whole drawer of chocolates.

‘’I don't know exactly what this is about, but I guess the only thing I can assure Minju did was snore very loudly,’’ you joked with a chuckle. ‘’We had a super quiet Friday, sir.’’

Minju gave you a playful nudge and you both giggled adorably, the very picture of good, innocent girls that the jury was totally buying into. For a beautiful moment you believed it had worked and that would be all, except that Mr. Kim had an ace up his sleeve.

He just nodded thoughtfully and, without saying a word, simply raised his hand holding a small remote control. The projector sprang to life and displayed a slightly blurry image filmed from a porch security camera. The room filled with sound: loud, silly laughter, someone yelling "aim well!" and "do it again!" A group of clearly drunk college kids came into view, eggs in their hands. Someone threw one and completely missed the house; another projectile did hit the door and splattered a little on the camera. 

Minju gasped next to you. ‘’Oh my God. No way.’’

Then Minju's face appeared, her eyes wide and dilated, her mascara slightly smudged, and smiling as if she had just summoned a vortex of pure chaos. You frowned, believing your sight was deceiving you, but no, Minju was throwing or at least trying to throw eggs. She looked absolutely ridiculous, drunk as a sailor and staggering, unable to contain her drunk giggles, hands full of eggs, some failing into the floor. You covered your mouth, trying to control your laugh from spilling. 

‘’Oh no,’’ Minju blurted with worry. ‘’My hair looked like that?!’’

You closed your eyes with a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. The video continued playing, showing Minju teetering on the sidewalk and trying to aim the eggs, some landing on her shoes while others cheered on her failed attempts. No eggs actually hit the house. Now you understood why the two of them were there. The house that Minju and her friends had vandalized was one of the oldest in town, now a museum, and what not many people knew was that it had actually been a house belonging to the witch settlers. In fact, nobody knew, except for those of their kind. Minju egged a historic house to your community, a very important one. 

The screen went dark and a heavy silence fell over the room. The president spoke for the first time, clearing her voice. ‘’Girls, this is not exemplary behavior for witches.’’

‘’I know and I’m sorry,’’ Minju panicked, moving her hands desperately. ‘’I’ve grown since then! I swear!’’

‘’This happened three days ago,’’ her father said flatly. 

The president moved her attention to you and you shrank a little in your seat under her stare. ‘’And you have lied to this council and the jury, covering up for the accused.’’

You deflated like a balloon, looking at the floor. ‘’Yes,’’ you admitted with a sigh, there was no point in denying it. ‘’I did. I’m sorry.’’

Seorin sighed loudly. ‘’You’re two young witches still forging their path, but at your age you should already understand certain rules. This room isn't a place for lies, girls. Magic doesn't just respond to power, but to truth,’’ she scolded you two gently but firmly; her eyes were not unkind. ‘’I'm a little disappointed in both of you. I was expecting better.’’

Being scolded by an older, more experienced witch felt just as embarrassing as when you were a little girl. Thank goodness your familiar, Soomin, had taken a short vacation, otherwise you would have been doubly scolded, though you suspected she probably already knew. Some jurors nodded, others agreed, and some looked at you two more suspiciously, as if they thought Minju had more eggs in her pockets and was about to attack them. Perhaps with better aim.

‘’This is obviously not a criminal matter, but every action has its consequences,’’ the president continued. ‘’And this is no exception.’’

Minju held your sleeve while looking at you alarmed. ‘’They're going to burn us at the stake!’’ she whispered urgently.

You rolled your eyes and pushed her softly, scoffing. ‘’Of course not!’’

‘’For you,’’ the president said, looking directly into your eyes, ‘’one lunar cycle without lies. No falsehood or trickery, your tongue will always speak the truth. May sincerity teach you an important lesson, young witch.’’

Your stomach dropped, but you maintained your neutral expression, even as you could feel the faint presence of a spell reaching your body and settling there. Your tongue felt heavy for a second and you touched your lips with a frown, noticing that the sensation appeared as quickly as it vanished, as if something had been tied up and then melted on your tongue like candy. Well, fuck.

‘’And for you,’’ she turned to Minju, ‘’you will be in charge of three hens. You will feed them, care for them, clean their coop and collect their eggs. It goes without saying that not a single one should be broken in the entire month.’’

Minju blinked. ‘’Uh, excuse me, Madam President… three?’’

‘’Exactly.’’

‘’Oh. These hens,’’ Minju continued, ‘’are they… alive?’’ 

‘’They’re chickens, Minju,’’ her father sighed tiredly. ‘’That is usually how they work.’’ 

Seorin struck the gavel once. ‘’With this, we conclude the council meeting. Thank you all for your presence today.’’

Minju fell dramatically to your side, staring at the ceiling with a pout. ‘’Next time I’ll tell the truth.’’

You looked at her sideways. ‘’You don't say.’’

She pouted even more, regretting filling her cute features. ’‘I'm sorry I dragged you into this! But it was kind of worth it, if we think about the grand scheme of things. Like, I kissed Jungwon at the party and I got his number!’’

You looked at her in disbelief and wondered if they would increase the punishment if you hanged her right there. ‘’Minju, we're under a spell for a whole month! I can't lie, and you've become the babysitter for three chickens. Aren't you forgetting something?’’

She stared at you blankly, head empty, just waiting for you to say more after she shook his head no.

‘’You're afraid of chickens.’’

By morning you had already begun to encourage yourself. Honesty was easy, wasn't it? You could do this. It's not like you're constantly lying, you weren't a pathological liar. One month. One lunar cycle. Thirty days. It would be easy. You could do this. People liked honest people, after all. 

It's not like the most powerful witch of the coven casted a spell on your tongue forever. There was no chance that a careless word could send you back to the Council chambers with judgmental candles and Minju’s chickens clucking in the distance… right? Right. You could do this. Being honest was a good thing! Maybe this whole mess could turn into something positive. 

But one thought wouldn't leave your mind. How did this spell exactly work? Did silence count as an answer? Perhaps it was a good idea to fake pharyngitis and take a few days off. If you could keep your mouth shut and stay quiet, maybe take a lower profile… Huh. That could maybe do the trick. 

You were so caught up in mental damage control and possible ways to cheat (or maybe not cheating as such, you would call it... walking the spell's edge), that you barely noticed someone started walking beside you.

Too close, close enough that you could smell his cologne. You glanced sideways and there was Park Jongseong in all his glory and blinding smile, gracing you with his presence. Jay was one of those guys who had a high place among campus royalty, definitely a party prince. Everybody knew him. Everybody wanted him. Always smiling like he knew something most people didn't, confident with a track record to back it up: friendly, athletic, way too good with the girls, as you’ve heard the rumors. Trouble.

Your alarm bells were starting to quietly go off because Jay was smiling at you as if you two were lifelong friends (you weren’t), looking at you as if he didn't notice your expression, which was somewhere between disinterest and slight concern (like saying please think twice what you’re about to say).

Jay wasn't a conceited idiot per se, but hey, you weren't going to give all your trust to one of the campus's favorite heartthrob just like that. You knew his kind (frat, attractive boy) and well, his group of friends had a certain reputation on campus. You weren't particularly interested in getting involved in their games like Minju, who had her sights set on Jungwon and apparently it was working well, without any illegal love potion included. You hoped. 

“Hey,” he said easily. “You’re in Professor Park class, right?”

You looked at him and then at the empty halls.

“I am,” you replied flatly.

He chuckled, unbothered by your tone. “Cool, cool. Listen— quick favor. I’ve been kinda… busy lately,’’ Jay made a vague gesture that probably meant parties, games, existing attractively, fucking around, more parties. “Missed a few lectures. You take good notes, right?”

You felt a strange sensation in your chest, like a tickling inside. Your eye twitched a little, too early to deal with whatever that was. ‘’My notes are good, yes,’’ you said.

“Perfect,” Jay said enthusiastically, as if you had come up with the idea and not him. “Think you could send them to me? Or maybe help me catch up sometime? Maybe you could tutor me from time to time.”

You inhaled slowly, ready to say that you hadn't been taking notes lately, or that maybe he wouldn't understand your handwriting, that you didn’t have the time to tutor someone or even just a clear yes so he would leave you alone.

None of that came out of your mouth. 

‘’No,’’ you said instead. Your eyes widened, realizing you couldn't have lied. It wasn't what you meant to say, it was just automatically spat it out.

Jay blinked at you. ‘’Oh. Okay.’’

‘’You should be more responsible, Jay,’’ you said, the words spilling out before you could stop it or control it. ‘’This isn't such a difficult class. If you came regularly, you'd definitely do better and be able to keep up instead of relying on people who actually are responsible, instead of being so unprepared, you know.’’

An awkward, confusing silence fell between you, and you quickly covered your mouth, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. If that wasn't guaranteed social death... some passing girls turned their heads, intrigued by the exchange. 

Jay continued to stare at you for a few seconds and then let out a small laugh, more surprised than angry. ‘’Wow,’’ he said. ‘’Okay. Fair. Harsh, but fair,’’ he chuckled. ‘’I get it.’’

You shrugged mortified and helpless and bit your tongue hard, trying to hold back the words, but the spell was stronger. ‘’Also, I’m not interested in tutoring someone who prioritizes parties over academic responsibility. You'll just waste my time.’’

Jesus Christ.

Jay raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘’Damn. Alright. Message received.’’

He stopped in the hallway, still smiling, but there was something more thoughtful in his expression, his gaze lingering on you, as if he had miscalculated what he expected from you. Jay was placing you in some drawer of his mind with a new label.

‘’I didn’t know you thought like that,’’ he added. ‘’You don’t take shit from anyone, do you? I respect that.’’

Before you could make things worse by replying, thankfully Jay just gave you one of his boyish smiles and walked away. As you watched him go, your heart calmed and you sank into the nearest wall. Well, that turned out just fine. So much for walking on the edge of the spell, huh?

Not very far, someone was watching you and Jay intently, observing the entire conversation without moving with a growing interest. 

Fortunately, you didn't scare away anyone else for the rest of the morning with your big mouth. Perhaps honesty wasn't as simple as you thought if it wasn't filtered, you could only hope that no one else asked you something as direct as Jay did. The spell definitely was out of control. So that was a damn problem. Not only could you not stay quiet, but your tongue was moving uncontrollably with thoughts that hadn't even formed yet. It was as if the truth was being ripped from your soul before your brain was even aware of it.

Minju was halfway through describing chicken’s politics when she realized you weren’t really paying attention to her. Your brows were furrowed, your mind racing, analyzing the damned spell. It was both strong and subtle, binding your tongue to the truth in a way that made it impossible to shut your damn mouth once you started speaking. There had to be some way to stop it. Of course, you weren't crazy enough to cast a counter-spell and actually end up in the Witches’ Council basement. But the chances of getting through the month without any trouble weren't looking so high anymore.

“I swear,” Minju said, poking at her salad, “at first they screamed every time they saw me, but now they only scream a little. And one of them lets me hold her for, like, five seconds. Her name is Buttercup. I don’t know why I was scared of them, they’re kinda cute. It’s not so bad.’’

‘’That’s good,’’ you murmured, barely nodding, eyes unfocused. ‘’Chickens are nice.’’

‘’It really is,’’ Minju agreed proudly. ‘’Also, I don’t scream as much anymore either. I think we’re warming up to each other, you know?’’

You hummed softly, taking a sip of your soda. ‘’It's great that you're building a relationship with your chickens. Bonding is important.’’

Of course Minju noticed your thoughtful and cloudy mood and stroked your shoulder with a frown. She also noticed the faint whisper of magic. ‘’How was your day? Is it the spell? Is your soda not fizzy enou— oh my God. Oh. My. God— okay, don’t look.’’

‘’What?’’ You asked, blinking out of your haze and looking all around. ‘’What’s going on?’’

‘’I said don’t look! Listen carefully,’’ she whispered urgently, going back to her salad and keeping her eyes down. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. ‘’Niki is looking at you.’’

You frowned at her, not quite understanding the urgency of the situation, but you assumed Minju would have some reason. You snorted, keeping your eyes down anyway and trying not to laugh. ‘’Okay, I won’t. So?’’

Minju looked at you in the most offended way possible, pointing her fork at you, eyes full of incredulity. ‘’You must be kidding. Seriously? Niki? Basketball player, very cute, very tall, friend of Jungwon.’’

A face flashed into your mind and you nodded, remembering him too well. The boy with the perpetual look of disinterest. ‘’I wouldn't call him cute but okay. What about it?’’

Your best friend is practically vibrating with happiness. ‘’What do you mean, what about it? He’s looking at you! This is so good! This mean we could have a double date!’’

‘’Okay,’’ you murmured under your breath, ‘’I don’t wanna know how that occurred to you. Besides, I don't think he's looking at me for that reason. He’s probably planning my social death right now. Don’t mind him, Min.’’

Minju fell from his cloud of excitement. ‘’What? Why? Why would he?’’

‘’I refused to help Jay this morning; the stupid spell made me say a bunch of crap. Basically that he was a party animal with little interest in academics and something about not wasting my time in him.’’

Minju made a face, measuring the damage in her head. The bond between the boys was no joke. Jungwon, Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Niki were like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse if they were five of them and in a frat— incredibly attractive, magnetic, with the kind of presence that simply drew attention. Whether it was their looks, their grades, the trophies they won with the basketball team, the gossip or their fraternity parties, someone was always talking about them. Loyal as hell, crossing one of them meant crossing the whole group of friends. And it wasn't a good idea to do that with the guys who basically controlled the narrative on campus.

Minju tried to smile again. ‘’Oh. Uhm, it doesn't sound very polite but he doesn't look murderous to me. He looks… in love,’’ she sighed cutely. 

You looked at her, not entirely convinced and then subtly moved your head, until your eyes did find Riki Nishimura not far away, staring at you as if he could burn you with his mind. Or trying to.

He looked murderous. 

Or maybe that was his everyday face. To you, he looked as always, as if he were bored and at the same time thinking about how he could start some chaos and blame others for it. Niki was leaning back in his chair across the courtyard, one arm lazily slung over the backrest, long fingers slowly swirling his ice americano coffee cup in circles. His posture screamed indifference, but his eyes betrayed him completely. They were fixed on you— not in passing, not accidentally. Intentionally. Burning. There was nothing shy about it, but you guessed that someone like Niki didn't know what shyness was in the first place.

It was a little creepy how his eyes had an almost predatory gleam in broad daylight. They weren't flirtatious as such, more like... analytical. Observant. Curious. As if he'd seen something and wanted to figure out exactly how it worked before getting close. He had a sharp, intense gaze, a feline spark that felt more like a panther than a cat. You couldn't deny it, he was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, no truth spell needed to admit that. His cheekbones alone deserved a separate analysis for sure.

Niki didn’t look away when you caught him. Instead, he held your gaze for too long as if he was challenging you to not look away. His chin tilted and a hint of mockery appeared in his dark eyes, or perhaps it was an effect of the sun, as if he was saying Yes. I am looking. Problem?

You lose on the spot because your stomach did a strange flip under his piercing stare and you looked away, refusing to let him make you blush like a schoolgirl. You turned to Minju again. ‘’Right. I mean, it could be, who knows? That guy only has one expression for everything,’’ you shrugged. 

She gasped. ‘’Of course not! He’s actually nice.’’

You arched a brow. ‘’Have you ever saw him smile?’’

‘’Maybe he’s one of those people who has a neutral face. You’re not the smiling type either,’’ she reminded you, mimicking your expression. 

‘’You’re trying to say resting bitch face,’’ you offered, taking another sip of your soda. ‘’Or maybe he's just constantly constipated.’’

It was impossible for Minju not to laugh a little at that, and the two of them shared a few giggles that quickly died away when a shadow appeared over the two of you. 

‘’What’s so funny?’’ 

A deep, definitely masculine voice sounded behind you. Minju jolted, eyes wide, while you turned far too slowly in your seat— straight into Niki standing there like he belonged in your space. Relaxed. Unbothered. Looking down at you from his full height, and fuck he was actually tall. Jungwon was at his side, smiling like it was a completely normal social interaction and not a potential social nightmare to you. You bit your tongue in advance. 

Before anyone could speak, Jungwon's gaze flicked to Minju and he gently reached out, removing something of her shiny hair with a hint of hesitation, as if reality were playing a trick on him. It was a white feather. 

Minju froze as Jungwon studied her and then the feather held in his fingers, his lips trembling as if he wanted to laugh but he was a little confused anyway. 

‘’What’s this?’’ He asked her, amused.

You and Minju looked at each other speechlessly as the silence stretched long enough into awkwardness, not knowing what to say or how to explain. But of course, the spell didn't hesitate.

‘’It is from one of the chickens Minju is currently responsible for caring as a disciplinary punishment from the Witches' Council,’’ you quickly said.

Minju let out a strangled noise, horrified at your outburst. A second later you realized what you said and covered your mouth, frowning and looking panicked at Minju, shaking your head in a way best friends communicate meaning help me the fuck out.

Jungwon blinked between you both. ‘’Oh.’’

Niki’s eyebrows lifted slightly. ‘’Is that so?’’

‘’Yes,’’ you continued helplessly, ‘’Minju was actually telling me how her relationship with them is progressing and she's not so afraid of them anymore.’’

Minju buried her face in her hands and took a calming deep breath instead of screaming before looking at Jungwon, trying to smile and pretend that everything was normal. 

‘’She’s right! I got some new pets,’’ she laughed with forced enthusiasm. ‘’Three chickens!’’

“That explains the feather,” Jungwon said, nodding solemnly as if this makes perfect sense. He placed it on the table. “Chickens are cute. Good luck with… that.”

‘’Thank you,’’ she mumbled, smiling too wide. 

You wished with all your heart that no one else would speak to you, that perhaps the boys would just keep walking and think you were a couple of weird girls. But fate couldn't be that kind to you. Instead, Niki's attention never left you, searching for your eyes even while you were picking up your things, ready to bolt. You weren’t about to spill all your secrets and actually earn a worse punishment. 

‘’Where are you going? Class?’’

You froze, feeling the spell regain its power and refusing to let you lie. ‘’I do not have class right now,’’ you explained, defeated.

Niki let out a quiet laugh, eyes gleaming. “Ah. Then why are you leaving?”

‘’I really don't want to continue this conversation in case I say something terrible or incriminating,’’ you admitted and made a face, grabbing your purse ready to bolt from there. God, just shut up! 

Niki smiled slowly. Dangerous. Too handsome. The way something malignant finds out a new soul to torment. “Relax,” he taunted you. “We’re just talking. Do I make you so nervous that you want to run away?’’

You stood up abruptly, almost colliding with him. ‘’Yes. That is precisely the issue.’’

Niki stepped aside without argument, gesturing with exaggerated courtesy. “After you, princess.”

With what little dignity you had left and afraid of revealing some witch secret that would end with you being burned at the town bonfire (or having to move to another town), you left almost running. Niki's eyes watched as you disappeared among students coming and going, a slight smile raising the corners of his mouth. 

Minju, bless her soul, tried to fill the heavy silence in your favor. ‘’Uh… she’s been pretty tired these days, you know, exams and stuff. She's usually more... quiet. But she’s super nice!’’

Jungwon nodded buying the explanation but Niki simply saw the bottle of soda you left; it was his favorite flavor. ‘’Is she?’’

The last thing you expected when you entered your home was a very, very angry owl staring at you from the stairs. You groaned under your breath as you approached, knowing you were about to get the scolding of a lifetime. You forced a smile onto your face and circled the scowling bird, slowly beginning to climb the stairs under her stare. 

‘’Oh, Soomin, hi! You’re back already? How was your vacation? God, how the time flies. Anyway, I have so much work to do so—’’

‘’Don’t,’’ she warned, staring at you with huge, unblinking eyes. You gulped. ‘’Don’t even think to leave this conversation.’’

‘’But Soomin—’’

The owl hissed at you, feathers puffing. ‘’How is it possible that I'm only gone for a week and you've been punished with a spell?! And I'm only finding out about this today?’’

You froze mid-step and slowly turned to face her. Her small, feathered face was somehow the same one your mother used when you broke something expensive as a child. Pure maternal disappointment that could be read as: how have I ever had to put up with you.

‘’A week,’’ she repeated, flipping her wings in stress, ‘’just a week! I left you here trusting you’re a functional adult now and you got yourself in a trial and a punishment?!’’

‘’It wasn’t kinda an official trial—’’ 

‘’Of course it was official! There was a jury! The president and— I think I’m about to faint,’’ the owl wheezed, wobbling a little enough to worry you.

You quickly approached the bird trying to hold it, but as soon as you got close, Soomin began hitting you with its wing while hissing with renewed strength.

You yelped, cornered to the wall. ‘’Ow! Stop!’’

‘’You lied to the Council! You didn’t call me!’’ She growled, flapping at you with tiny, furious little hits. ‘’You lied in front of the entire Witches’ Council! Do you have any idea of how serious this is?’’

‘’Soomin, please, you’re being so dramatic,’’ you said, running a few steps up. ‘’It wasn't that deep! It's just for one lunar cycle.’’ 

The owl tilted its head and, of course, followed you, still giving you short, scandalized taps with its wings that weren't painful but ridiculously humiliating. You wondered how many people in the world could be scolded by a bird.

‘’Just a lunar cycle? This is a disaster,’’ Soomin continued, pacing back and forth on the stairs like a furious professor or a stressed lawyer. Probably both. ‘’A complete catastrophe. One week. I leave for one week and you ruin your life. You’re gonna tell me exactly what happened and oh, look at that, you can’t lie to me,’’ she mocked you. ‘’Because you’re cursed!’’

You scoffed and lifted your hands up in a calming gesture, staring down at her tiny form. ‘’Listen. It was just... a very confusing chain of events that somehow ended with me under a spell. I clearly didn’t expect that. How could I have known that was going to happen?’’

‘’Why did you lie in the first place while being interrogated?’’

You hesitated for a second, enough to make Soomin narrow her eyes. ‘’Oh, no. No, no, no, no. That face means it was a stupid reason.’’

You sighed, leaning against the wall, the spell working too well. ‘’I was trying to cover up for Minju. She got drunk and egged the histori—’’ you noticed how Soomin’s feathers started puffing again and you made a face, taking a step up. ‘’Historical house— she went to a party and I told the jury she was with me the entire night.’’

Soomin narrowed her eyes. If owls could facepalm… ‘’So it was a stupid reason.’’ 

You rubbed your temples. ‘’Hey, I’m actually struggling here. Today was my first day and already made some fucks ups,’’ you groaned, covering your face. ‘’I don’t think I’m surviving three full weeks. This is hard!’’

‘’You’ll find the way to do it because it’s what you deserve,’’ Soomin scolded you. ‘’That’s what you get for lying.’’

‘’It was just a small lie! All of this is so dramatic! You have any idea what this means to my social life?’’

‘’You don’t have one,’’ the owl responded, blinking at you. 

‘’That’s not the point,’’ you replied, crossing your arms defensively with a frown. ‘’Now I definitely won’t.’’

Soomin perched on the railing and gave you another motherly look of pure disappointment. ‘’From now on, you won’t be unsupervised anymore,’’ she said firmly. ‘’I’m not leaving you for extended periods of time ever again.’’

You pouted and leaned your head on the wall. ‘’A month,’’ you muttered in pure misery and sadness. ‘’Twenty nine days to go.’’

Soomin shook her head. ‘’Unbelievable,’’ she scoffed. ‘’I raise you for years and this is what happens the moment I take a break.’’

You blinked. ‘’You’re appeared like three years ago, you didn’t raise me.’’

‘’Emotionally, I did.’’

You and Minju looked incredible. There was no other way to describe it, to be honest and full objective. Shorts that showed off your legs, zip-up jackets that clung to all the right places and accentuated your waist, your hair in a high ponytail that could have been in a sports-themed fashion editorial. 

You had both made a deal, before the whole punishment mess happened, that both would enter their athletic era; meaning no more sedentary life and naps. It was time to get healthier, enjoy the nice weather and all that shit that was supposed to be good to your body.

You were dying. 

Literally. Lungs gone. 

You didn't know when you thought it was a good idea to suggest to Minju that you both take an open hockey class as a form of exercise, but it was definitely you trusting too much that your back would hold up. And your knees. And practically your entire body. It wasn’t the case. Who knew running while holding a stick could be so difficult? 

By the end of the class you had moved parts of your body that you weren't sure you could coordinate at the same time in the first place, bent over your knees and gasping for air. Sweat trickled down your back as if you'd run a marathon from continent to continent, not just an hour-long class. Minju wasn't in the best shape either, dragging her hockey stick towards the benches while groaning, like she was leaving a battlefield. 

‘’I think I saw angels,’’ Minju panted beside you, ‘’when they made us sprint the second time.’’

‘’I saw God,’’ you wheezed. ‘’She suggest me to sit down.’’ 

On the other side of the field, the men's team was finishing their practice too. From afar you could hear their shouts, grunts, and jeers. These classes were supposed to be the Student Council's idea to provide free, open sports spaces for everyone, but the men definitely treated it like the National Championship. Fast, competitive, sticks and shoulders clashing. You recognized some of the guys and wondered who in their right mind would do two different sports in the same week and survive. Apparently, Niki was one of them.

The way he moved was ruthless, efficient, controlled. You couldn't help but watch him from afar while you drank water because, well, why not? A girl could enjoy the view. His hair was slightly damp, pushed back from his forehead. His t-shirt clung a little to his torso, and it was impossible not to notice the trace of his abs and the muscle in his arms. His body moved with force and speed. And although he seemed incredibly focused, his eyes still occasionally wandered. Towards you. Searching.

Again. Again. One more time, until Jungwon noticed and it made him snort with a knowing smile. 

After practice, while your lungs were slowly coming back to life and Minju was showing you videos of her chickens, on the other side of the field a group of boys were making a straight line towards you. It was too late to run when you looked up and Jungwon was approaching with an easy smile, Jay by his side and Niki just a step behind, hands in their pockets and a serious expression.

‘’Hey,’’ Jungwon greeted warmly, eyes drifting to Minju. ‘’How’d it go?’’

‘’We survived,’’ she smiled at him, proud. ‘’Barely. But it was fun. I can’t still feel my legs.’’

Jay arched a brow, chucking. ‘’That intense?’’

‘’You have no idea,’’ you whispered to no one, positioning yourself behind Minju as naturally as possible while you put away your water bottle and grabbed your bag. So, a new game plan was set. If no one specifically spoke to you, you couldn't say anything catastrophic, right? 

All you needed to do was make yourself a little invisible.

For a moment you thought you were actually succeeding. Jungwon was clearly only interested in Minju, with whom he was animatedly discussing hockey (or so you thought, because you had no idea about the terminology they were using). That was the moment: back away slowly, as if you'd decided in the moment and hadn't overanalyzed it for several minutes. Slowly, imperceptibly, so no one would smell your fear. Just a few steps toward freedom, just a bye under your shoulder and no one would get hurt. 

Jay noticed right away, calling your name.

‘’Hey,’’ he said casually, glancing at you and your outfit, taking in your legs. ‘’You look good today.’’ 

You froze. Oh no. No. Please, no. The spell didn’t wasted a fucking second. 

‘’I know,’’ you said confidently. ‘’These shorts gave me an incredible ass.’’ 

Silence. Minju choked, eyes huge. Jungwon’s brows shoot up. Jay bursted out laughing, full delight, not at all bothered. 

‘’You’re so sincere,’’ he said with a grin. ‘’Confidence. I like that.’’

Niki didn't laugh or say anything. He was simply watching you, studying the way you spoke without hesitation and the subsequent panic that followed, as if you had no filter.

Jay playfully nudged Niki with his elbow and kept the conversation going. ‘’You guys watched us play?’’

You prayed that no one else would say anything to you directly, taking another step back. 

Of course, Niki’s voice interrupted your attempts. He looked straight at you. Calm, low, direct. ‘’Did you?’’

You swallowed, as if that could stop the truth from rising like bile up your throat. ‘’Uh, y-yes.’’

‘’And?’’

“You looked very attractive,” you admitted helplessly, eyes flicking to him for half a second before staring at the grass, accepting your destiny. “With your hair all sweaty and pushed back.”

Minju made a tiny distress sound, Jungwon tried to look neutral watching the exchange and failed, and Jay grinned knowing he found free entertainment and material to taunt his maknae. But Niki didn't mock you, or smiled, nor did he seem embarrassed or smug. He tilted his head and continued looking at you with heavy, but not cold, eyes. Just… attentive. Listening. Like he never heard that sort of answer before. 

‘’Did I?’’ He asked, mildly. 

‘’Yes,’’ you said immediately, planning your own death. ‘’It was distracting.’’ 

Jay looked at Niki, considering your words. He was enjoying it too much. ‘’Distracting, huh?’’

Niki ignored him and moved a little closer to you, just enough to make the air shift. ‘’Then maybe,’’ he said quietly, eyes steady on you, ‘’you should stop watching.’’

‘’I would, but you’re hard to ignore,’’ you murmured automatically, slamming your eyes shut. ‘’Okay. I’m leaving now.’’

‘’We need water!’’ Minju intervened, taking your arm and leading you away with an apologetic smile. ‘’Bye, guys!’’

Jungwon was smiling and waving, Jay was saying something about Niki's sweaty hair being gross and Niki... his eyes followed you the whole way. Smiling a little.

Already deciding. 

Avoidance is power, you told yourself. 

Clearly you couldn't control the spell. Okay. Nor could you control who spoke to you. Obviously. But you could control the exposure. Limited interactions, minimal risks, avoid potential red flags that could lead to humiliation. You were going to finally walk the line of the spell or die trying.

It didn't matter that Minju was officially dating Jungwon and that somehow included his friends who orbited him and, due to their proximity, your best friend, like damn satellites. You wouldn't be rude. Just... brief and efficient. Simply as that. In the middle of a night where you were staring at the ceiling wondering how you ended up in this problem while you were in a chocolate ice cream coma, that's when it occurred to you.

You couldn't lie, but you could control how you told the truth. You wouldn't be lying per se... you'd simply be revealing the answers in long, technical sentences. Careful words, a controlled tone, crafted and directed honesty. That wasn't lying. You were simply adapting to the rules of the game. Expanding your vocabulary. Making things complicated wasn't lying. The spell didn't imply that people had to understand you.

In the dating world, some friends canceled plans because of their boyfriends. Minju did it for her chickens. She bailed on hockey practice before it even started when her security app sent a notification.

“One of the girls laid an egg and she looks emotionally overwhelmed,” she had said seriously, already packing her bag. “I need to supervise.”

‘’She’s just a chicken,’’ you stared at her. 

‘’She’s sensitive.’’ 

That's how you ended up alone, suffering, exhausted but not as dramatically as last time. Or maybe you just didn't have anyone to complain to. Either way, once practice was over, you actually enjoyed it a little. Other girls were stretching and chatting, laughing and drinking water, while you sat on the benches. You breathed a sigh of relief when you took down your ponytail and let your hair fall, enjoying the fresh air.

Perhaps doing outdoor sports wasn't so bad, you supposed. The sunset and the breeze caressed your damp skin, and for a second you relaxed, enjoying the silence. You tilted your head slightly toward the sky, toward the last rays of the sun, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You even smiled a little, not ruining your social interactions for a whole day felt like a huge victory.

You weren’t aware of it, but at the other side of the field the boy’s team were finishing warm-up drills. Niki’s focus shifted, as he had done all week, to you. Finally alone. Illuminated by a halo of sunlight, looking so pretty and relaxed, not like the times he had approached you and you looked ready to flee.

By the time you sensed someone’s presence it was too late, opening your eyes to Niki standing close enough that you had to tilt your chin up slightly to meet his gaze. You got startled with a small yelp and your heart rate went crazy while Niki was completely and clearly unashamed of staring at you like that in the open. 

He broke the silence first. ‘’Minju abandoned you?’’

You were ready for this. You cleared your throat and sat straighter. ‘’She had a chicken-related emergency.’’

Niki blinked once, nodding like that made all the sense in the world. ‘’I thought you were avoiding us,’’ he said plainly. ‘’Avoiding me.’’

You inhaled, choosing the words carefully in your head. ‘’I’m being selective with my interactions at this particular moment.’’ 

His mouth twitched slightly. ‘’Selective? And I didn't make the cut?’’

Panic spread across your brain, that was dangerous territory! 

‘’I'm trying to minimize situations where I have to interact verbally because… because I'm avoiding saying things that can amplify the exposure of my personal, reserved thoughts and put me in complicated circumstances.’’ 

Niki’s eyes sharpened. ‘’So I complicate your life?’’

This fucker. You froze for a second, feeling the spell around your tongue, ready to pounce head first into the truth. ‘’I believe you increase the odds a little,’’ you admitted, maintaining your calm tone. 

He took a step closer, his knees almost touching you. ‘’And why is that?’’

Because I can't decipher the way you look at me.

Because you don't react like everyone else.

You didn’t say any of it. ‘’You ask direct questions,’’ you said instead, finding the right words. ‘’And I struggle with filtering in those interactions.’’

His eyes fell on the curve of your shoulders, the way your hair waved in the breeze, your cheeks a little pink from exercise. ‘’You look better like this,’’ Niki said casually. 

You frowned. ‘’Like what?’’

‘’Less guarded.’’

Your brain short-circuited, and thankfully, not even a powerful witch's spell could fix that. But before you could die crushed by Niki's dark eyes, he was the first to look away towards the other side of the field, where his team resumed training.

‘’We’re not done,’’ he started, and you suspected he wasn’t just talking about hockey. ‘’Stay.’’ 

You blinked. ‘’Stay? Why?’’

He gestured subtly with his head towards the bleachers and you followed his line of sight. Oh. A few girls were there, watching the boy’s practice. Some talking, others taking photos. Waiting for boyfriends. Watching situationships or prospects. 

You looked at Niki again, not fully understanding the situation. Actually, more in denial. The implication was too obvious to ignore, but it still confused you a little. Why the hell Riki Nishimura wanted you there of all people?

‘’You can sit there,’’ he said, like it was the most normal outcome. ‘’Watch.’’

You kept staring at him, blinking slowly. ‘’You’re recruiting spectators, Nishimura?’’

His mouth twitched again, trying not to crack a smile. ‘’I’m inviting you.’’ 

Your stomach lurched catastrophically. ‘’You want me… to sit there and openly watch you?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’No.’’

He didn't react badly to your refusal, he simply studied you. ‘’Why not?’’

You swallowed and searched your brain for an answer that made sense. ‘’Because that could create some assumptions.’’ 

He tilted his head, a spark of mischief in his eyes. ‘’What kind of assumptions?’’

You narrowed your eyes a little, knowing that now he was playing with you. He knew what kind of assumptions, the cocky bastard.  

‘’I would prefer not to fuel potential situations that could lead to rumors that are not substantiated… based on our interactions. Misinterpretations could arise.’’

He searched your eyes while lowering his voice a little. ‘’What if I want them substantiated?”

Fuck this frat boy. You let out a loud sigh and thought about your next move. There was no chance you would let Niki throw you into the stands full of girlfriends, when the possibility of the spell going out of control due to the pressure and the crowd was so high. You were barely taking baby steps into the edge of the spell, not doing fucking somersaults on it.

So you took the next best route: evade. ‘’You’re very confident,’’ you managed to say, trying to smile. 

‘’Yes.’’

‘’That's very... threatening to my… filtering,’’ you groaned, feeling the spell tightening. 

He kept his eyes on you, pleased by it. ‘’Then stay,’’ he muttered, almost soft. ‘’Face the danger.’’ 

‘’That’d end with me saying something incriminating,” you warned him with a sigh. 

“I’m counting on it.”

Alright.

You stood abruptly, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “This is exactly the kind of scenario I am strategically eliminating.”

He didn’t move out of your space immediately. “You’re running again.”

“I am exercising discernment.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Same thing.”

You looked at him once more, trying to appear composed and with a serene face, even though your heart was beating strangely inside your chest. ‘’I'm not equipped to deal with you right now. Bye.’’

That made him stop for a second. And then: ‘’Good.’’

‘’What? Why’s that’s good?’’ 

‘’Because when you are, I'll be here. I want to see it.’’

Niki walked back onto the playing field, leaving you behind as if he hadn't desestabilized your nervous system.

From that day on, things got progressively worse, little by little, as if the loose ends were starting to tie themselves up. And by loose ends, you meant Niki's friends. The strangest part was the stares you got from other girls. Some were curious and interested, others hateful. The campus had eyes everywhere, that was obvious to anyone. The five horsemen and their lost bachelorhood were the talk of the town. First Jungwon, then Jake, who would be next?

The initial plan to avoid social interactions wasn't working too well. Maybe it was because you were just one soldier, and well, Niki's army was bigger, not to mention the whole campus. Little things started happening. Like Jay sitting next to you in class, much to your alarm, and you even considered pretending not to know him. But if there was one thing impossible in the world, it was getting Jay to shut up. He talked about everything. Your head was completely empty by the time he launched into his anecdote about the basketball team's mascot falling into the pool last week. 

The party invitations came in a more personal way. It wasn't like fraternity parties required it, but maybe it was something about the social hierarchy you weren’t aware of…? You had no idea and weren’t about to ask Minju about it. You assumed people just showed up, like you had done a few times before. But then Lee Heeseung basically blocked the library entry and asked you (more or less threatening you) if you would like to come to one of their parties. It took you too much by surprise to put together a coherent sentence, so you basically scuttled out the side with a yelp and a hurried ‘’no!’’. 

That’s how you ended like this. Looking insane. 

A scarf wrapped around your head as if you were a Hollywood actress from the 40s hiding from the paparazzi (you weren't), oversized black glasses that definitely weren't your style and didn't serve much purpose on a cloudy day, shoulders hunched as you slid along the edges of buildings like a cartoon thief, trying to blend into the shadows. Head down, quick steps, incognito mode activated.

The problem was that the Silverveil’s campus was a curse in itself, starting with its architecture: lots of open spaces, glass walls, and lots of people who liked to talk. And of course, him.

Nishimura Riki.

You had acquired a new knack for finding Niki in a crowd, though it wasn't too difficult. Tall, existing effortlessly, hands in his pockets with a semi-bored expression. You saw him at the other end of the courtyard, laughing at something Jake said, his laugh short and sharp, and just that sound made your stomach clench. 

Abort. Abort. Abort.

You spun around instantly, nearly colliding with a group of students, muttering a quick apology before making a beeline run towards the nearest column. You leaned your back against it and took a breath, waiting a few seconds before poking your head out and inspecting the area.

No five horsemen of the apocalypse. No teachers. No curious girls asking if you can introduce them to Jay or Heeseung— or asking if it's true they're in a polyamorous relationship. No hockey coach asking why you didn't go to the last class and you not answering that you'd rather sleep for ten hours than drag your ass through that torture again. 

Good.

You adjusted your scarf, lowered your glasses further, and leaned again— only to freeze. Niki was definitely close. Too close. So close you could see the lazy way he walked, unhurried, making his way along without even asking, as if he weren't chasing after anything. As if he knew exactly where he was going.

You pulled back fast, heart slamming against your ribs. Shit. 

‘’Who are you spying on?’’

His voice came from behind you, low and amused, close enough that you felt it more than hear it. Slowly, too slowly, you turned around and there he was, devastating so. Niki’s eyes scanned you from head to toe, taking in the handkerchief, the glasses, and your expression somewhere between guilt and panic, as if you were assessing your chances of running away.

For a second he just looked at you, until one corner of his mouth lifted. 

‘’No one in particular. I’m just… examining the perimeter and human elements near me.’’

Niki arched a brow, somewhat amused and slightly judgmental. ‘’Is this a disguise or a styling choice?’’

Panic surged through your mind, flooding your entire brain, barely remembering the plan and survival mode before the spell revived. ‘’I’m avoiding being recognized to prevent unnecessary social interactions that could result in irreversible harm to me.’’

Niki let out a short laugh, surprised and real, eyes bright with something dangerously close to interest. “Wow,” he said. “That’s… specific.’’

You squeezed your eyes shut for half a second, heart trembling. “I would appreciate it if you did not interpret my current behavior as an invitation for conversation.”

“And yet,” he replied lightly, stepping closer instead of away, “you’re still talking to me. You are hard to go unnoticed, too.”

You swallowed. “This is an unfortunate consequence of your proximity.”

He studied you like you were a puzzle he didn’t know how he wanted to solve, which piece picked up first, gaze lingering just a beat too long. “You know,” he started, voice dropping a little, “I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

Your heart stuttered. “Did you? That information is… distressing.”

Niki smiled fully now, slow and unreadable. “Good,” he responded. 

And suddenly, hiding felt impossible and dumb. You were pressed against the column when Niki moved closer, cornering you enough so that you couldn't leave without brushing against his body. Niki lifted a hand, slow enough that you saw it coming but not slow enough to stop it. His fingers brushed your cheek for half a second before hooking under the arm of your sunglasses.

‘’Hey!—’’

He slid them off your face with infuriating ease. The world suddenly felt too bright. Too exposed. His gaze settled on your eyes immediately, intent and unreadable, like he was cataloguing something important. Up close, you noticed details you really shouldn’t be noticing: the curve of his lashes, the way his expression softened when you weren’t hiding behind dark lenses, a faded scar on one of his eyebrows. The smell of his cologne. 

“Hm,” he hummed, studying you. “So that’s what you were hiding.”

You stopped yourself, jaw tightening. “…That statement is inaccurate since you don’t know my intentions and motives.”

Without breaking eye contact, Niki casually slipped the sunglasses onto his own face. They looked ridiculous on him. He also looked unfairly good as well. 

‘’There’s a party tonight,’’ he said, like it was the most normal conversation he ever had. ‘’Our frat. You coming?’’

There’s no way in hell I’m going, you thought. Instead, you said: ‘’Attending an event of that magnitude is not in my immediate plans.’’

He stepped back, finally giving you air. “That’s a shame,’’ he smirked, then tilted his head, lowering his voice just enough to feel intimate. “If you want these back,” he added, tapping the edge of the sunglasses, “you should come.”

You opened your mouth to renegotiate the deal or tell him it was ridiculous, but Niki turned around and left without looking back, just like that. Hands in his pockets, wearing YOUR big glasses, carefree, as if he hadn't left you there with the words on your lips and your heart racing, or with people nearby pretending not to have seen everything.

By the end of the day, it was everywhere.

People saw Niki. 

People definitely saw the sunglasses. 

People definitely saw Nishimura Riki wearing your sunglasses like they were his in the first place and didn't steal it from you in plain sight. The bastard had the audacity to actually wear them throughout the day, even with his friends, completely unbothered by the small chaos he caused. 

You even heard some whispers throughout the day that made you stare at nothing while some people gossiped about your life in real time. You sat in class, notebook opened, half-hearing your professor, doing doodles and making an effort to write something even if you barely care. That’s when you heard the whispers. 

‘’...Is that her?

‘’Mmmh. I think so.’’

‘’Ya, she’s pretty. No wonder Niki’s dating her.’’

You stopped doodling and paid more attention, your eyes were on your professor as you grip tightening around your pen. Waiting for more gossip to spill. 

‘’They look like an idols couple or something.’’

‘’My friend saw them flirting in front of everybody. Is that serious.’’

‘’Really?’’

‘’I know, right? He’s wearing her glasses. She’s friends with Jay too, I think.’’ 

By the end of the day, it was everywhere, and Minju was proof of that, because at some point during the day your best friend dragged you to the nearest cafe and interrogated you in a very similar way to the Witches' Council. With two lattes and two muffins and Minju unsuccessfully trying to contain her excitement, you sighed in defeat.

‘’Okay,’’ she started, resting her hands on the table, trying to calm down as if that would make her hear better. ‘’I’m ready. Tell me everything! What’s is going on with you and Niki?’’

You shrugged. ‘’There’s nothing going on,’’ you murmured, taking a sip of the latte. ‘’I think? I can categorize it for sure. Try be more specific.’’

Minju narrowed her eyes. ‘’Someone from my Economics class saw you and Niki earlier,’’ she paused. ‘’She said he took your glasses, like, he took them.’’

‘’That’s true. I was robbed in broad daylight and slightly criticized by my fashion choices, I think,’’ you frowned. 

Minju blinked and deflated a little. ‘’That’s not… how she described it.’’

You stared at your best friend, unimpressed. ‘’I’m literally incapable of lying, remember?’’ 

‘’So? What you’re gonna do?’’

‘’Honestly, I don’t know,’’ you sighed, massaging your temples. ‘’He told me I can get them back if I go to their party. He can keep them, I guess.’’

Minju gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. ‘’Oh my God. You’re being courted!’’

‘’More like terrorized. He stole from me!’’

‘’He’s flirting, you dumbass!’’

‘’He committed a crime,’’ you stated. 

‘’You’re brushing!’’

You groaned and covered your face with a whine. ‘’Leave me alone.’’

‘’Listen,’’ Minju said, in a softer tone. ‘’I’ve never seen Niki doing something like that, he’s very reserved. He’s always looking at you like… like he wants to eat you alive. And to be honest, you don’t look at him very differently.’’

You pressed your lips together and watched your coffee as it had the answers of the world. Somewhere on campus Niki was probably smiling to himself, that you were sure of, perfectly aware that he did exactly what he wanted. 

Stressed you out, checked.

Provoked you, checked.

Left you with an invitation you could’t stop thinking about, checked.

The worst part? You didn’t care about getting your sunglasses back.

The sky has been gray and cloudy lately, but you hardly care. It was another hockey practice and only half your body was there, your functional neurons checking out a long time ago. Physically you existed there, but your mind? That was a thing with a life of its own. Your body moved when it should, your stick hit the ball when it was your turn, even your legs seemed more coordinated than before. The reality was that your mind was deep in a daydream about the thing you wanted most: your warm bed.

You were planning it in detail, too distracted and entertained. 

Hot shower, giant pajamas, a greasy double hamburger— eating cross-legged under your blankets while something mindless played on your laptop. The beginning of your weekend. No campus. No accidental honesty. No dodging dangerously perceptive boys. Just a pause in time to exist without stress.

You jogged half-heartedly across the grass, barely registering the shouts of your teammates playing. The cloudy weather made everything feel slower, heavier. Your eyelids even drooped for a second. And then— a memory flashing too fast, your brain betraying you.

Niki. Uninvited. 

How close he stood the other day, the way he said face the danger. His low, deep voice, the way he looked at you like— no. You shook your head slightly, refusing to let yourself do that. But the images, his face, it kept flickering in your head. His smile, his smirk, his intense eyes. Him watching you like— 

‘’Watch out!’’

Too late.

A body collided with you, hard, from the side. One of the girls tripped mid run to hit the ball, and suddenly the world turned upside down without warning. Grass. The grey sky. Impact. Your head hitting the ground hard enough to make you stay still with a low groan. There were some black points in your vision and for a second everything sounded muffed, until a sharp whistle pierced the air. 

The girl approached immediately, kneeling beside you in alarm. ‘’Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn't see you— are you okay? Don’t move.’’

You blinked a few times, staring at the sky. ‘’I’m fine,’’ you mumbled, pressing your hand on your head, making sure it was still there. ‘’It’s my fault. I was… geographically misplaced.’’

She looked confused but relieved. ‘’Oh…? Okay. Don’t stand up anyway, just take your time.’’

The coach jogged over, calling your name. ‘’Are you okay?’’ 

‘’Yeah,’’ you muttered, sitting slowly. ‘’It was just grass, it’s okay. Nature softened the hit, I guess.’’

And then, a shadow fell over you, but it wasn’t your coach or a teammate. You didn’t need to look up to know, a sense in your body recognizing the presence before your mind did. But you did look anyway and you suck a breath, cursing in your mind. 

Niki dropped beside you, crouching immediately, his expression serious. Shifting into something you never saw before, sharp and alert in a way that made your stomach flip for entirely different reasons than falling into the ground. 

Before you could process what was happening or even talk, his hands found you— sliding under your head, cradling carefully like you were struck with a metal baseball bat and not softly bonked by grass.

Your brain short-circuited and you let out a startled squeak, trying to push his hands. 

‘’I’m fine!’’ you blurted, trying to push yourself up. 

His hands didn’t move, still holding your skull. ‘’Don’t,’’ Niki said gently. 

Your heart was beating too fast for someone who just wanted a nap and a burger. 

‘’I literally fell on grass,’’ you insisted, noticing more people staring. ‘’This is not a serious injury, really.’’

Niki ignored you completely and looked up at your coach. ‘’She should go to the infirmary,’’ he suggested, voice steady and persuasive. ‘’Just in case.’’ 

Your head snapped towards him, confused. ‘’Just in case of what?’’

‘’Concussion.’’

You blinked, then laughed. ‘’No way. It was a gentle meeting between my head and nature. I’m perfectly fine.’’ 

Niki looked down at you. ‘’Do you know how concussions work?’’

The spell was faster than you. ‘’More or less.’’ 

‘’More or less,’’ he repeated, a small glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘’So you don’t actually know.’’

You clenched your teeth. ‘’I’m clearly conscious. I’m not dizzy. I can form intelligent sentences.’’

‘’Barely,’’ he said under his breath.

You gasped in outrage.

Your coach softened visibly by his tone. ‘’It’s very sweet that you’re worried about your girlfriend.’’

There was a split second of silence. And then:

‘’I am not his girlfriend,’’ you yelped at the same time Niki said smoothly, ‘’Thank you. I’ll take her.’’ 

You stared at him with both betrayal and alarm. ‘’Excuse me?’’

But Niki was already moving, and before you could react or scream his arm slided under your knees, other behind your back and the ground suddenly disappeared. 

You grabbed onto him reflexively, noticing that you were quite far from the ground. ‘’What are you doing?!’’

Carrying you apparently cost him zero effort, holding you like it was nothing. A small part of your brain noticed his arms flexing and his hard chest, but you pushed those thoughts down. 

‘’You might faint,’’ he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘’I’m not taking risks.’’

You covered your face while Niki carried you bridal-style out of the field, leaving behind teammates whispering, gasping, other laughing, definitely rumours taking a new shape. You swore you saw Jay snapping a pic, but for your mental health you told yourself that was a hallucination induced by mortification.

You squirmed in his arms, refusing to give up. ‘’Right, I will faint from humiliation!’’

‘’You’re so dramatic,’’ he chuckled. ‘’Just stay still.’’

‘’This is completely unnecessary,’’ you hissed, kicking the air. ‘’I can walk. Put me down!’’

‘’No. Stop overreacting.’’

You gasped in pure incredulity at his nerve. ‘’Me? I’m the one overreacting? You engineered this!’’ 

He glanced down, amused. ‘’How? You were the one so distracted in the middle of a game that you hit your head. What were you thinking of, anyway?’’

The spell enveloped your tongue. ‘’I was thinking about my plans for tonight when I fell. On. Grass.’’

‘’You. Hit. Your. Head.’’

‘’On grass,’’ you groaned, resuming your kicks in the air. ‘’It’s not serious!’’

‘’You don’t know how hard you hit yourself,’’ Niki tried to reason with you. He adjusted his grip on you, too comfortable to care about your protests. 

‘’I do? I was literally there?’’

‘’So was I. Saw the whole thing.’’

‘’Put me down, Nishimura.’’ 

‘’No.’’

‘’I don’t particularly enjoy being paraded like this. People are looking!’’

‘’You’re being cared for.’’

‘’Against my wishes!’’

His expression, despite the teasing and the smirk, is sharp. Watchul. With something deeper, until you realize what it was. Protective. You hated the way your pulse reacted to it, and at some point along the way you relaxed enough to rest your cheek against his chest. You were giving him the silent treatment anyway, all pouty and clinging to what little dignity you had left.

The infirmary smelled like lemon scented cleaner. It was bright and quiet, a small place with a desk and a few simple beds to lay. Niki set you down on one of them, his hands lingering on your body enough for your heart to do a backflip before he stepped back in a very professional way and not suspicious at all. 

‘’Sit,’’ he said, unnecessary. You did. 

The nurse came up with a clipboard under her arm, looking between you and Niki. ‘’What happened?’’

Before you could open your mouth, Niki started speaking. ‘’She fell, hit her head hard. Black spots, disorientation. She tried to stand up immediately,’’ he accused you. 

Your eyes widened. ‘’That’s not—’’

‘’I feared she might have a concussion,’’ Niki continued, crossing his arms and looking at you like you were a very bad behaving kid, ‘’she insisted she was fine and that’s a sign that someone is not fine.’’

You stared at him in disbelief. ‘’I fell on grass.’’

‘’She collapsed after the hit,’’ Niki told the nurse. 

The nurse hummed, clearly entertained and nodding to the story, writing something on the clipboard. ‘’Mmm-mm, I see. And you carried her all the way here?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Niki replied like it was the most obvious thing to do. ‘’For her safety. She needs a check-up.’’

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. 

‘’Well,’’ the nurse smiled, turning to you, ‘’you seem pretty alert and you didn’t lose consciousness. Let’s have you rest here for a bit just to be safe,’’ she handed you a small box of juice from her desk. ‘’Drink this, sugar helps.’’ 

You took it obediently, giving Niki a bitter side eye.

The nurse stepped back to her desk and then paused, taking the paper from the clipboard. ‘’I’ll be back with some paperwork,’’ she sent you a knowing look. ‘’Behave, you two.’’

The door closed behind her and then silence followed. 

You snorted softly. ‘’Don’t worry,’’ you said while stabbing with too much force the straw into the juice box, ‘’we’re not having a making-out session here.’’ 

The words hit your ears a second later and you froze, remembering the fucking spell. You immediately shoved the straw in your mouth like it might save you. 

Niki tilted his head, looking at you. ‘’We won’t?’’

You choked when the juice went the wrong way and you coughed until your eyes watered. ‘’—What!?’’

Niki patted your back softly, too entertained for someone who was playing hero. ‘’You heard me. That was a question.’’

You glared at him over the juice box, cheeks burning, spell threatening you. ‘’I'm not going to do anything that doesn't involve the nurse's medical advice, Nishimura.’’ 

Niki stepped close and you felt it— his fingers brushing the hem of your shorts, idly tracing the edge like it was the most natural thing to do.

‘’I like it when you call me that,’’ he muttered in that deep voice of his.

Your suspicions and alarms went off at the same time and you gave him another warning look, moving your thigh away from his fingers.

His touch followed you, but now it was his giant palm covering your thigh and gently squeezing it. 

‘’Don't,’’ you scolded him. 

He stooped, mostly. His hand still hovered there, but didn’t move further. 

‘’You got me worried out there,’’ he said, quietly. 

You studied his face— the crease between his brows, the lack of amusement or teasing. ‘’You didn’t have to carry me all the way here,’’ you mumbled.

‘’I wanted to and I’d do it again.’’

That landed harder than it should, straighter to your chest and even lower. A pause fell but it was soft, quiet, not quite awkward. It felt more like something seeking place and settling down. 

‘’Why do you run away all the time?’’ He asked, curious, searching your eyes. 

You swallowed and put the empty juice box to the side with a sigh. Your shoulder slumped a little, tiredness waving in your voice. ‘’Sometimes I feel…’’ you explained quietly. ‘’Like… there’s something in me that doesn’t let me lie, even if I wanted to,’’ you chuckled softly. 

Niki leaned in, eyes sharpening with interest. 

‘’And I don’t know how people would take that,’’ you continued, staring at the floor. ‘’What if I said too much and I hurt somebody? Or I show too much of myself? I don’t like that exposure. I don’t have any… shield or control. So I just wanna avoid those things from happening.’’

Niki didn’t interrupt you, listening attentively. He was silent for a long moment. ‘’You want to protect yourself,’’ he explained easily, making you tense a little. ‘’I know you think running makes you invisible, but it doesn't. It just makes people look harder.’’

You looked up and glanced at Niki, noticing that his face had gotten too close to yours, his eyes focussed on your lips. But before you could respond, the infirmary door opened and the nurse came back. Niki straightened up immediately as if nothing had happened and ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, the other still resting warmly on your thigh.

You didn’t scold him again or move away. 

Growing up as a witch was a series of completely out-of-context situations thrown right in your face for you to deal with. Like the time everything inside your house floated constantly for a month before you could get that power under control. Or the time you saw a rabbit, thought it was cute, and overnight your yard was overrun with rabbits from all sizes and colors until the town newspaper reported a rabbit overpopulation in your neighborhood. You hadn't realized you were controlling their energies and, unintentionally, summoning them.

So yes, you were somewhat used to surprising situations, but you still almost had a heart attack when you opened your backpack in the middle of class and two huge, deep, yellow eyes stared back at you from the darkness inside the bag. 

You nearly screamed. But the sound somehow got muffled in your throat as you quickly zipped up your backpack and cradled it against your chest like a contained bomb. Slowly, very, very slowly, you leaned forward over your desk and opened the zipper again, enough for Soomin to hear you. 

‘’What are you doing here!?’’ You whispered.

‘’I’m doing a surprise check in,’’ the owl whispered back. Inside the backpack, Soomin shifted with the quiet rustle of feathers. ‘’Supervising.’’

You squeezed your eyes shut and slowly pulled up the zipper again. You spent the entire class sitting stiffly in your chair, your backpack resting on your lap like the most suspicious object in the world while you pretended to take notes and that everything was normal and you didn’t had a fucking talking owl with you. Every small movement from inside the bag made your spine lock up and discreetly observe your surroundings, in case anyone noticed anything.

You felt the presence of the spell like a fucking dagger waiting to pierce your heart. Your mind kept cycling through every possible disaster scenario: the owl popping her head out, someone hearing her talk, someone asking you what was inside the bag. You had never been so aware of every single person in the room. When class finally ended you were one of the firsts to get the hell out of there, relief hitting you like oxygen after drowning. 

You fled the lecture hall still holding onto your backpack. 

‘’Don’t run! I’m getting dizzy,’’ Soomin whispered from inside the bag. 

‘’You snuck there! Now enjoy the ride,’’ you hissed quietly. ‘’What are you even doing here!?’’

‘’I’m monitoring and supervising, I told you I wasn't leaving you out of my sight and you been acting weird lately.’’

You pushed through the hallway doors, scanning the corridor for a quiet corner where you could finally unzip the bag and properly scold the feathered menace inside. Unfortunately, fate had other plans, of course it did, because you walked straight into Nishimura Riki.

You stopped in your tracks.

He had one hand in the pocket of his jacket, leaning lazily against the wall like he had nowhere urgent to be. When he noticed you approaching at suspicious speed with your backpack clutched like a hostage, his brows lifted slightly. Then his gaze drifted downward and slowly pointed. You followed the direction of his fingers, to the round owl head sticking out of your backpack. 

Soomin blinked at him. You froze. Soomin froze as well. For a long moment the three of you just stared at each other in a very tense and confusing silence. Niki muttered your name, a little doubtful.

‘’... Is that an owl?’’ 

Your brain ran through every possible lie in the world that you could think of, but obviously they all ran into the magic brick wall of the spell. ‘’Uh… uh… this is an animal that can be found in the forest.’’ 

You stopped talking immediately after that. Niki stared at you, then at the owl, and again at you. He didn't seem alarmed or confused, more like he wanted to understand why you would have an owl with you in the middle of the day instead of questioning how strange it was.

‘’Right,’’ he said slowly. Niki leaned a little closer, examining the bird with curiosity. ‘’And what is it doing in your backpack?’’

The truth tightened in your throat. ‘’It just… climbed in there.’’

Silence fell again, looks were exchanged and Soomin even tilted her head, taking in the boy in front of her, examining him in the same way Niki was doing. Then, he glanced at you and let out a quiet, amused breath through his nose, like he just decided not to question the situation too deeply. Niki was late to class, anyway.  

‘’You’re kind of weird,’’ he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. He looked at the owl again. ‘’What are you going to do with an owl?’’

You tightened your hold on the backpack, feeling Soomin shifting inside. You sighed. ‘’I’m… going to have a talk with her.’’ 

Ni-ki glanced down at the owl head still poking out of the zipper. The owl stared back with wide, unrepentant eyes. He nodded slowly, like that explanation made complete sense. Then he reached out without warning and casually pinched your chin in a gesture too gentle and familiar that made your brain short-circuit for a second. 

‘’Okay. We’ll talk later, yeah?’’

You just blinked at him, eyes huge and nodded. ‘’Uh-uh. Sure.’’

‘’Good luck with your…’’ he frowned and gestured vaguely at Soomin. ‘’Your forest animal.’’ 

And with that, he pushed away from the wall and walked down the hallway, disappearing into the flow of students like the entire interaction had been perfectly normal.

You stood there for exactly two seconds. Then you spun around into a more hidden corner and put the backpack down with a groan. 

“Soomin—!”

The owl immediately hopped out of the bag. ‘’Oh my God, who was that?’’

‘’What?’’

‘’That tall, intense dude. The handsome one with dark eyes,’’ she commented conspiratorially. 

‘’You snuck into my backpack, infiltrated in the university, caused me the most stressful class of my life, and you want to talk about a boy?’’

‘’Yes. Spill.’’ 

You rubbed your face, asking for patience from above. ‘’That’s Niki.’’

The owl studied the hallway where Niki had disappeared with a thoughtful expression. ‘’He’s very attractive.’’

‘’He is,’’ you conceded.

‘’He touched you very confidently,’’ she observed. 

‘’Uh— I mean— he kinda does that—’’ 

‘’And it didn’t bother you,’’ Soomin furthered her observations, blinking slowly. ‘’Are you dating him?’’

‘’No!’’

‘’You’re secretly seeing him? This is some of prohibited romance?’’

‘’What? Of course not.’’

‘’He’s your boyfriend and didn’t tell me?’’ Soomin asked with a squeak, entertained by the gossip. 

‘’I already told you no,’’ you tried to reason with her. 

‘’... Why are you blushing?’’

‘’Because... because... it's hot and I feel strange, now shut up,’’ you groaned, picking up the bird and putting her into the backpack again like you could trap the conversation inside it. 

She gasped. ‘’You like that tall boy!’’

The spell crackled throughout your body, your mind and tongue couldn't agree on what to say, but the truth did its job. ‘’I— I— I think— yes— but—’’

‘’I like that boy too. He didn’t scream when he saw me.’’

‘’You’re a bird, not a monster.’’

‘’That’s not the point,’’ Soomin scoffed. ‘’He was very gentle with you. I approve that.’’

Soomin watched you very carefully and you felt a little nudge in the heart of your magic. Her eyes softened.

‘’Oh,’’ she said. ‘’You’re so doomed.’’

You grabbed the zipper and slammed the backpack closed.

Later that day, after you took Soomin home and she promised you there would be no more surprise inspections, the library greeted you with silence and concentration. The setting sun reached some tables, the soft sound of pens writing relaxed you somehow, and the distant hum from the air conditioner in the distance served as white noise.

You were exactly where you liked to be, seated by the window, notes spread neatly. Pretty and colorful highlighters. Life under control, for once. 

That didn’t last long. 

You were finishing a paragraph about an idea you had written when a chair scraped against the floor across from you. You didn’t look up immediately, which was a big mistake.

‘’Okay,’’ a low, masculine voice said. ‘’Serious question.’’

Your pen froze mid word and you lifted your gaze, finding Niki sitting across from you like he belonged there. Elbows resting on the table, dark eyes locked on you with immovable focus.

You stared at him, putting down your pen slowly. ‘’Oh, no,’’ you doubted, straightening up as if a bomb were about to drop on you at any second. 

‘’Would you date me?’’

You stared at him completely blanky, certain you mishearded. There was no question in his tone. No hesitation. Just calm certainty, like he had already considered the options and selected the obvious one. You blinked again and looked around you, wondering if that was in fact a daydream and not reality. Maybe you casted a spell of illusion without realizing it? 

The spell stirred to life. ‘’I don't know,’’ you finally muttered. ‘’You just can’t ask me that out of nowhere!’’

His eyes sharpened, resting his chin on his hand. ‘’I just did. Let’s date.’’

‘’Niki,’’ you sighed, sending him a warning glance when he smirked at your tone. ‘’I don’t think that’s a good idea.’’ 

‘’Why not?’’

The spell tugged your tongue begging for honesty, warm and insistent, and the silence prolonged until you found how to stretch the truth. You inhaled softly, trying to collect the right words. 

‘’You look like the kind of problem I'm not really qualified for or sure I will be able to manage. Like… advanced detached emotional skills I don’t possess or want to entertain.’’

He didn’t flinch, or left, or smirked anymore. He considered your words leaning back into the chair, arms crossed, studying you like he was deciding how to make sense of what you said. 

Niki leaned forward then, forearms on the table like he was about to touch you in any second. The distance between you and him was slowly shrinking, but you felt like the walls were falling down onto your head. 

‘’How can you know that? We don’t know each other that well,’’ he explained patiently.

That was fair and he had a point. You hated that. You nodded and exhaled, unable to lie.  ‘’That’s true.’’

He waited, sensing how you were trying to expand your answer into something that made sense but it wasn't sharp and cruel. Niki’s focus didn’t waver. 

‘’I don’t know you that well,’’ you recognized, ‘’I am simply overlaying the information I have based on observational data in social interactions to form an opinion of you.’’

One corner of his mouth twitched. ‘’Observational data. Meaning you’ve been observing me.’’

‘’I mean, not on purpose or significance,’’ you explained further. ‘’And that’s not the main takeaway.’’

‘’Tell me,’’ he encouraged you, leaning even closer. ‘’What kind of problem do I look like to you? Use your data to enlighten me.’’

“You look,” you said carefully, stretching the sentence as far as it would go, “like someone who is used to getting attention without asking for it. And who doesn’t have to work very hard to keep it.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “And?”

“And,” you continued, because the spell would not let you escape halfway, “I don’t enjoy competing with other females. Especially not recreationally and emotionally. I like stable sentimental involvements.”

Niki snorted, entertained by you, clearly. ‘’I’d be an excellent boyfriend.’’

You laughed, between surprise and incredulity, it slipped so naturally out of you that you couldn't stop it. ‘’How would you know? You’ve never had a girlfriend.’’

He arched his brow. ‘’How would you know that?’’

You narrowed your eyes, taking in his challenging tone. ‘’There’s usually a different girl every weekend,” you said, far too matter-of-factly. “Statistically speaking, long-term attachment does not appear to be your preferred pattern. It’s very notable that you’re rarely alone and there's no fixed tendency on your type either.’’

But Niki didn’t look offended or insulted, or even caught, he was intrigued. ‘’Have you been keeping track?’’

Your spine straightened. ‘’Not actively. It’s more a knowledge from a passive environmental awareness situation, like… occasionally overhearing comments in the women's restroom from time to time.’’

“Environmental awareness,” he repeated. ‘’So, gossip in the women’s bathroom. That formed your opinion of me?’’

“Well, it's like noticing changes in the weather or bird migration patterns, I guess. I’m just exposing the data I gathered.’’

Niki slowly reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. ‘’You’re comparing me to migratory bird patterns? That’s your angle here?’’

“I compare your social habits to recurring seasonal behavior,” you corrected quickly. ‘’Don’t spin this on me.’’

‘’So you think I’d be a bad boyfriend.’’ 

“I think,” you corrected, choosing each word with painful care, “that you give the impression of someone who enjoys options,’’ you said, honestly falling with surprising weight. And maybe a touch of vulnerability. ‘’Not the type of male to do stable emotional interactions.’’

For a moment, he didn’t deny it. “And that bothers you?”

“It doesn’t bother me in a personal capacity right now,” you responded, then sighed when the curse nudged you again. “But it would complicate things if we get hypothetically involved together.’’

The corner of Niki’s mouth curved upward, slower this time. “So you’re considering being hypothetically involved with me.”

“I am considering the hypothetical scenario in which I evaluate the feasibility of such involvement,” you clarified, aware of how ridiculous you sounded. 

His knee brushed yours under the table and neither of you moved. ‘’Mmm, I see. But you didn’t say you won’t date me, you say you didn’t know. Explain that, then.’’

You stared at him, blinking slowly, pretending you didn’t move your fingers away from his.

‘’I said exactly that I wouldn't know how to handle the problem you represent, theoretically.’’

‘’I’d let you,’’ he simply answered. ‘’Just say yes.’’

The tension between you shifted—less teasing now, more charged. 

‘’Let’s test your theory.’’ 

‘’My theory?’’

Niki played with one of your rings. ‘’Date me,’’ he proposed, ‘’find out if I’m actually a problem. Get to know me, do your research with your own data. What do you think?’’

Your heart flipped, lost connection with your brain and poured with automatic honesty. “I am… not opposed to gathering additional data under controlled circumstances to reassess my preliminary assumptions.”

‘’I like you,’’ Niki simplified, caressing your knuckles. ‘’And I wanna know you more.’’

That simple declaration sent your heart into failure, and your cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “I find you objectively unfair,” you said, forcing steadiness into your tone. “Your face structure combined with your confidence level creates unnecessary distractions.’’

His eyes darkened slightly at that, satisfaction flickering across his features. “So that’s a yes.”

‘’It’s not a no,’’ you sighed, a little lost in the conversation. Keeping track of the truth was already hard, but doing it under Niki’s eyes and intentions was too hard. 

‘’Saturday at the frat,’’ he straightened, victory settling over him like a final move in a game only he knew they were playing. ‘’Come to the party. We’ll be alone and nobody will bother us.’’ 

‘’But—’’

But before you could say anything else, Niki stood up and walked around the table until she was standing in front of you, leaning in until your breaths mingled and you closed your mouth. He stroked your cheek and lifted your face, holding your chin, studying you closely with a knowing look.

‘’I know you're going to try to run away,’’ he said, eyes flickering to your lips. ‘’I know you talk the way you do because you're trying to prolong the truth. I know you want this because you're not really pushing me away,’’ he murmured, his thumb rubbing your lower lip absently. ‘’You look at me the way I look at you, and it's driving me crazy, baby.’’ 

You were out of words. Niki’s gaze returned to your eyes, satisfied at the effect he had on you. He stood up, full of triumph and smiled at you, he actually fully smiled, and you just stared at Niki like you were seeing the sun for the first time.

‘’We’re dating now,’’ he mumbled, giving you one last look. ‘’And if I don't see you there, I'll come looking for you. Choose wisely,’’ he advised, already stepping back.

And that's how Niki left, leaving you stunned and recalculating in a corner of the library, your heart pounding and your cheeks flushed. 

And somehow, in a way you didn't quite understand, the day ended with you officially dating Nishimura Riki.

The fraternity house was already shaking by the time you went through the door. It wasn't surprising, because everyone wanted to be there. Nobody in their right mind would miss the chance to get close to one of the guys, to mingle with them, to get their attention. The chances of fun and craziness were too high; everyone knew about the reputation of that frat's parties. 

The air was thick with the sweet and sour aroma of alcohol, juice mixed with vodka and beer, bottles and glasses piling up everywhere. The music was so loud it pounded in your chest, the flashing lights made your footsteps blurry, and people were everywhere talking, laughing, kissing, dancing. It was the kind of party everyone would tear apart piece by piece the next day and gossip about everything that happened, because it was the kind of party where something was always happening.

You knew that your best friend was probably entangled with Jungwon in some corner of the party. You avoided touching any drop of alcohol, because adding that to a spell powered by truth was the worst idea in the world, even though that what you wanted most at that moment was a drink. 

You felt as if you had willingly walked into the lion's den, and well, you had. There didn't seem to be any safe zone; your eyes were constantly scanning for Niki to appear. This was because of the collection of accurate data, you lied to yourself. That's why you dressed so daringly. A short skirt that showed off your legs, loose hair, overly glossy lips, a long-sleeved top with a neckline that dropped just enough to show your collarbones.

It was absolutely not because of him. And then, you felt it.

It was a shift in the air, a tiny recognition of something about to happen. The weight of somebody’s attention, the feeling of being watched. You turned your face over your shoulder and locked eyes with Niki across the room, near the stairs, where he was watching you intently. 

He was surrounded by friends and other people you didn't know. When his eyes noticed you, it was as if his expression changed completely, fading into something focused and determined, satisfied. His eyes traveled over you slowly, unhurriedly, like a caress; taking in your skirt, your legs, your bare shoulders, the soft, exposed skin. You breath caught under his intense gaze, instinct kicking in from feeling like a prey. 

You turned around and blended into the crowd with ease, trying to control the mild panic and excitement coursing through your veins. You knew he was still there, keeping a close eye on you, and that running was a terrible idea. Because Niki loved a chase. You knew you were delaying the inevitable, buying more time than you had, testing limits just because you could.

You wondered if he was still following you. Wouldn't he get distracted? Wouldn't he get bored and rather pick another girl? Would he get annoyed? 

At some point you gave up and your fingers circled a plastic cup with something sweet and strong that warmed your throat and made you immediately regret it because of how good it tasted, how easy it was to drink it. You didn't know exactly where in the house you were, but it wasn't the heart of the party, it wasn't packed with people, and the music wasn't as loud.

A hand wrapped around your wrist, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His thumb caressed the spot where your pulse quickened, his chest pressed against your back just enough for his breath to brush against your hair.

His mouth brushed against your ear, sending hundreds of shivers down your neck. ‘’Still running from me?’’ 

You barely turned your face, as his grip loosened from your wrist to your waist, where both hands squeezed it tightly, as if he feared you might escape. ‘’I was strategically relocating.’’

Niki laughed shortly, the sound against your ear. ‘’You saw me and tried to escape.’’

The spell cursed through your mouth before you could register it. ‘’Yes.’’

His body pressed closer to yours, making you hold your breath. ‘’Why?’’

You swallowed, searching for the right words, absentmindedly licking your lips. ‘’I wanted to know if you would follow me,’’ you admitted.

He shifted, turning your body carefully so you could face him fully. Niki’s hands were still on your waist, his touch more relaxed, but not less possessive. Up close, his eyes seemed darker, wilder, dilated under the flickering lights.

“You wore this on purpose,” he said, gaze dipping briefly to your collarbones before returning to her face. ‘’For me.’’

‘’I wore it because it's socially required to wear clothes at public events.’’

His thumbs caressed and pressed the skin of your hip, shaking his head. ‘’Not good enough. Try again and be honest.’’

The spell pushed you, taking control. ‘’I wore it because I knew you’d be here,’’ you responded before you could wrap the thought into something safer and confusing. ‘’And I wanted you to look.’’

His jaw tightened, not in anger but in restraint. ‘’You’re starting a dangerous game,’’ he warned you, voice warm and husky. ‘’Careful.’’

You shook your head, staring at him. ‘’I’m not playing,’’ you frowned, spilling truthfully. 

One of Niki’s hands slid from your waist to your back, pulling you flush against him, deliberated. The air shifted around you, your hands resting on his chest and not moving him away, too blinded by his eyes to care if anyone in the crowd saw you.

“You’re driving me insane,” he admitted, barely audible.

“You like it,” you replied, and the tremor beneath the honesty was too evident. 

His gaze flicked to your mouth. “For the record,” Niki said, “I’m about to kiss you.”

Your heart bounced, melted, reformed, and continued bouncing against your ribs. Maybe it was the spell, the drink you had, or maybe you just didn't want to fight against honesty anymore, but you smiled a little. 

‘’If you don't I might, Nishimura,’’ you lightly threaten him.

The small distance that existed vanished like a whisper, slowly, the tension that had been built up for a long time slowly letting go, something bigger entered. He kissed you as if he had waited too long to do so and didn't want to waste another second.

It wasn't desperate or clumsy, but decisive, as if he knew exactly where and how to strike. You melted into a kiss almost immediately, letting him do as he pleased with you. He made his way into your mouth and explored it slowly, savoring the strawberry and vodka from before and your own taste. Both of your breaths caught in your throats as neither of you let go, too immersed in the kiss for breathing to be a priority. 

Your hands tangled in the honey-blonde hair at the nape of his neck, your nails slowly sliding down his skin to his neck, making him hiss into the kiss, his hands touching you more freely, exploring, daring to slip inside your skirt.

You had no idea how, but between a kiss and a breath, more kisses and muffled moans against each other's mouths, at some point your back hit a door. Niki opened it, pulled you both into a room, and cornered you against the door again, closing it with a click you barely registered. His mouth went down to yours again, one hand on your throat and the other on your jaw, as if that way he could hold you down to devour your soul in peace.

When both had to separate again because their lungs couldn't take any more, you two were a bit of a mess. Niki's full lips were swollen from kisses, barely colored by your gloss, his hair a little disheveled, eyes shining with barely contained desire. You weren't looking much better either, your skirt twisted and wrinkled from how many times Niki had grabbed and crumpled it, your cheeks flushed, and your lip marked by Niki's bite.

Niki kissed you again, but this time more gently, first your lips, then the corner of your mouth, your throat, the line of your exposed collarbones. He turned you both gently, walking into the room while continuing to kiss and gently suck on your skin, making you sigh and hold onto him, until you laid on a bed and a little bit of sense got to your fuzzy brain. 

Only then you fully looked at your surroundings. 

The light was dim, with a lamp in the corner casting a warm glow. Sneakers were arranged against the wall, some everyday shoes and some basketball shoes. Hanging from a hook near the closet was a jacket with a number and Niki's last name embroidered on the back.

You tilted your neck to get a better look and Niki interpreted it as you were giving him more space, smiling against your neck and continuing the trail of slow, wet kisses, making himself room between your legs. 

You blinked, still finding details to look at. ‘’This is your room,’’ you said.

Niki stopped briefly, looked at you and then placed a kiss on your lips. ‘’Welcome.’’

‘’This feels like important information,’’ you arched a brow, curious. 

‘’We’re busy,’’ he replied simply, leaning again to press another kiss to your mouth. Your pulse quickened, and you let him distract you with his mouth, wrapping your legs not so timidly around his waist. His lips trailed down the spine of your throat, biting the sensitive spots that made you dig your fingers into his shoulders, breathless.

Your eyes opened for a second, but it was enough to notice something at the other end of the room. It was a medium-sized cabinet hanging against the wall, made of wood and glass, a display case. Inside, carefully arranged under warm strip lighting were small collectible figures— you knew them too well. Cute, round-headed, soft features, expressive.

Hirono.

Not one. Not two. Several. Arranged too neatly to be random, they were all different, but aligned according to the collection they belonged to. It was a curated exhibition. 

The stunned gasp you let out was too loud and made Niki froze for a second, looking up from your neck. ‘’What?’’

You couldn't control the little laugh that bubbled up from you, a mixture of disbelief, excitement, and delight. ‘’You have Hirono figures!’’

Something too interesting happened. Niki blinked, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear from you. For the first time he seemed hesitant, as if he had been caught up in a confusing crime, but at the same time, something else flashed across his face... a touch of shyness. 

He cleared his throat. ‘’What?’’

You twisted slightly in his hold to point at the display case, smiling. ‘’They’re in a diorama, aren’t they? You arranged them by series. The right ones are from the Mime set and the middle ones are,’’ you squinting your eyes, leaning in, ‘’Little Mischief. Right?’’

Niki stared at you, eyes glowing. ‘’You know them?’’ He asked slowly.

‘’Of course,’’ you looked at him incredulously. ‘’I collect them too.’’

He stepped back a little to get a better look at you, holding himself above you. ‘’You’re lying.’’

‘’I can’t lie,’’ you replied automatically, too focused on the figures to notice the slip. ‘’They even look like you, Nishimura.’’

His eyebrows shot up and he snorted. ‘’They do not.’’

‘’They do,’’ you insisted with a laugh. ‘’Look at them! Their eyes and little nose. Moody, slightly frowning, probably judging everyone internally.’’

He stared at you for a moment, as if debating whether he should be offended or not. ‘’I do not look like a Hirono figure.’’

‘’The resemblance it’s very accurate,’’ you defended your theory. 

He looked back at the figures and then at you, something unreadable flickering across his expression. No one noticed those figures when they entered his room. Not the guys on the team or his friends; maybe Jungwon took a picture of them once but didn't ask any further questions about it. Definitely not the girls who came and went and whose names he didn't bother to remember afterward. 

But you did, without a second thought, without trying to impress him. “You’re the first person who’s ever said anything about them,” he blurted, before he could stop himself.

The confession floated between the two of you, as soft as the muffled music that could be heard from below. You felt your face slowly lose its smile, your expression becoming gentler. 

‘’They're arranged as if you cared about them, as if you'd thought it carefully. Of course I noticed.’’ 

He closed the small space and kissed you once again, while his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face. ‘’What am I gonna do with you?’’

‘’You’re the one who dragged me here.’’

‘’You talking about my collection distracted me more than necessary.’’

You smiled a little. ‘’They’re cute.’’

He shook his head, stealing another kiss. ‘’You’re cuter.’’

The spell sparkled but this time you didn’t feel it like a threat or a trap, just letting it take its course. ‘’You look unfairly attractive when you’re flustered,” you observed. 

‘’I’m not flustered.’’

‘’Liar,’’ you scoffed. 

Niki huffed a quiet laugh and kissed you again, slowly. His hands slipped back under your skirt, and you didn't stop him, letting his palms cover and caress your thighs as he devoured your mouth like someone who had all the time in the world. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let each kiss melt you more and more, until the migratory patterns of birds no longer mattered to you, nor did the spell, letting Niki convince you with every touch that he wasn't a problem you could easily run away from.

Maybe it was because your lungs had their daily dose of suffering when they made you run ten laps around the field, or maybe the concussion from days ago was a delayed effect, but you were just too dizzy.

Niki's body pushed you further against the wall, as if the way you were pressed together wasn't enough and he needed more. It wasn't a soft kiss, but the kind of kisses Niki gave where you were convinced he wanted to steal the air from your lungs and replace it with him. 

The bastard knew exactly which buttons to push, his warm hand cradling your jaw while the other one was inside your shorts, long fingers buried deeply in your dripping cunt. His thumb gently stroked your cheek, in that way he knew it would melt you too quickly. It did.

When he pulled back you were too disoriented to remember where you were; hidden from stares under the stands in broad daylight, feeling like two highschoolers furiously making out before getting caught. Your heart was pounding as if you had made ten more laps, moans stuck in your throat trying to keep them at bay, but the way Niki was fingering you was merciless.

‘’Come watch my training,’’ he murmured against your ear, lips kissing the sport under it. His fingers found the spot inside you that made you whimper, stroking it over and over. ‘’I want to see you there, sitting all pretty and mine. Where I can look at you.’’

He had tried to convince you for several days, and you had to admit the man had a certain charm that made you hesitate. Maybe it was the amazing orgasms. Once you had almost agreed, but when a girl you didn't know greeted you and asked what you did to get Niki and if it was true that he had a huge cock like his friends, you panicked a little and abandoned the idea. The spell was coming to an end and you weren't going to give in.

‘’If you don’t,’’ he added, voice dripping into something dangerous and playful at the same time, ‘’I won’t kiss you again. Or worse.’’

You blinked at him, cunt clenching around his fingers, cheeks flushed. ‘’O-or worse?’’ 

Niki hummed and nodded, fucking you faster until you gasped against his lips and he swallowed every moan of yours while you cum, holding you as your thighs trembled and crushed his hand between your legs. 

He deliberately brushed his fingers against your clit one last time as he withdrew his hand and brought them to his mouth, sucking your juices while continuing to look at you. Niki didn’t say anything else, just kissed you, so fondly and threatening at the same time, and walked away towards the field like nothing had happened. Wearing an eating-shit smirk, whistling softly to himself. 

You stared at him, recalculating your entire existence, just as you had from the moment Niki decided to be a part of your life weeks ago. 

You told yourself that maybe it was the afterglow of a good orgasm, or maybe you just had nothing better to do, or perhaps a part of you really wanted to watch Niki training, all sweaty and focused. The day felt like it was about to explode into a storm at any moment, the sky gray and covered with thick, threatening clouds waiting for the perfect opportunity. There was hardly anyone watching the boys, just a few girls a few steps up in the stands— Minju was there.

Buttercup as well.

Minju had grown fond of her chickens and had bought accessories to take them everywhere. Her most recent purchase was a backpack with a hard, clear plastic cover that was actually for walking cats, but the label didn't specify that it couldn't be used for chickens.

She was leaning forward, with lovestruck eyes and a silly, dreamy expression, watching Jungwon run. Inside the plaster carrier Buttercup was dozing off, relaxed and round. Your best friend noticed your hesitation and smiled at you, tapping the spot next to her with an expression that said, "you better sit down or I'm capable of tackling you to the ground if you take one step back."

You sat. 

The world didn’t combust instantly. Minju beamed and turned her attention back to the field. You gradually relaxed and leaned forward as well, resting your chin on your hand as you openly watched Niki. He had just finished a drill and was talking to Heeseung (who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but running there, clearly struggling) (he was the last victim to be convinced to join the open class), when his eyes flickered up to the stands and landed on you. 

You swore you saw his pupils dilating. Something in his expression changed and his smile was slow. Darker, satisfied, making your stomach flip and your pussy throb. But it didn't stop there. Niki was focused on training, of course, but every now and then he'd glance at you, as if making sure you were still there. You met his gaze each time, even smiling slightly and enjoying the way it seemed to affect him. 

You'd discovered that this was a two-way street, and that Niki, the unattainable and serious Niki, was capable of getting flustered. Like when he asked you which Hironos you collected and if he could see them, and which one was your favorite. Or the time you just kissed his neck and brushed his hair back without thinking about it too much, and Niki blinked and then melted against you.

The training session ended and the boys scattered everywhere, some going for water, others lying on the ground to stretch, but not Niki. He walked straight to you, determined eyes that held you still in your place, your pulse spiking with anticipation. 

He kissed you in front of everybody, hands cradling your face.

Minju gasped, you swore Buttercup made a similar sound, other peoples gasps reached your ears as well, but honestly it could have been a trick of your mind. Nothing existed around you but you and Niki.

He pulled back enough to grin at you, eyes soft and bright with a touch of mischief. ‘’Hi, baby.’’

You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts. ‘’Uh… Hi.’’

‘’Ready to go?’’

You nodded, still a little hazy and flustered. He took your hand, pulled you up, grabbed his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and got you out of there in less than two minutes. He also ignored Jay throwing kisses at him while leaving. 

Niki decided to break the silence first, your hand in his gently swaying, intertwined. ‘’There’s a party tonight at Jake’s,’’ he started, stealing a glance at you. ‘’Jay’s pretending we don't notice, but he wants to get a girl's attention.’’

You arched a brow, interested. ‘’Is he trying to set a trap there or what?’’

‘’That’s what I thought,’’ he huffed a laugh, drawing you closer to him. ‘’He’s been weird lately. Restless. Anyway, Jake wants us to keep an eye on the party. He know how things can get.’’ 

You gently bumped your shoulder against his, trying not to smile and failing. ‘’Is this your way of asking me to come with you?’’

‘’This is an opportunity for you to continue collecting new data to establish your patterns. Or have I already convinced you that I'm not a problem?’’

‘’Hmm. You are... doing an acceptable job in proving your case considering my prior judgment based on social environmental observation. Maybe you'll give me back my sunglasses too, Nishimura?’’

‘’They will remain my hostage until you accept that I was right and that I can be a good boyfriend.’’

You didn't correct him and Niki noticed.

Jake's house was exactly the chaos you imagined it to be, maybe a little smaller and more contained than the frat parties, but no less alive and vibrant for it. Before you could go inside and find Niki, something small and black, furry, jumped out from the side and meowed at you. The cat blinked slowly at you, and you tilted your head, studying it, feeling an energy emanating from it that stopped you before you could pet its head. You chuckled softly in disbelief, glancing at the cat and then back at Jake's house as if you were mentally running through the odds.

‘’I can’t believe it,’’ you mumbled, staring at the knowing eyes of the cat. 

‘’Welcome, dear,’’ the cat purred. ‘’I’m Minhyung and you're the one with the truth spell, aren't you?’’

‘’Unfortunately.’’

The cat meowed and laughed, shaking his head. You had to admit, it was too cute and fluffy to even care that it was probably an ancient soul, so of course you petted his ears softly. 

‘’Aish, that punishment was too much. Anyway, your boy’s inside. It’s a house full of witches tonight,’’ Minhyung observed, tilting his head so he could get more pets to his ears and neck.

You entered the house, greeted by loud pulsing music and drunken laughter. You recognized some faces among the dancing crowd, the dim light and the smell of liquor, like Jake taking a girl upstairs and Jungwon and Minju huddled in a corner devouring each other's faces. You slowly made your way through the party, not quite knowing where you were going or where to find Niki, your body trembling with anticipation. It was impossible not to.

In the short time you and he had spent together, Niki had done an incredibly good job training your body. Maybe it was the slow making out sessions in bed, or the way he buried his face between your legs like an starved man, or the intense way he looked at you sometimes, as if he were thinking about throwing you to the ground and fucking you until you couldn't take any more.

You just wanted to find him, sit him down on the nearest surface you could find, and ride him while you kissed him. And maybe then watch something while spooning.

Your steps led you to the almost deserted backyard and you pursed your lips, examining your surroundings without much success, when a hand encircled your wrist and you were cornered against the wall.

Niki placed one hand beside your head and the other settled comfortably on your waist. His eyes drifted to your lips, slowly and deliberately, as if he were thinking about how to kiss you.

‘’You took your sweet time,’’ he said, tilting your chin up. ‘’I was wondering if maybe you backed out.’’

You rolled your eyes. ‘’I said I would come. Why, Nishimura? Would you have missed me?’’

‘’Yes.’’

His thumb brushed your hip and you felt it everywhere, staring at his full lips while he was closing the distance and—

Your phone started ringing with the most annoying alarm ever. 

‘’Wait—wait— let me turn it off—’’

Niki exhaled though his nose, amused. ‘’Seriously?’’

You frowned a little. ‘’I don't even remember setting an ala—’’

You glanced at the screen, blinking completely shocked like you quite didn’t understand what was written on it. 

FULL LUNAR CYCLE COMPLETED!!!

You gasped loud, dramatic, so loud that startled Niki.

He looked at you urgently. ‘’What?’’

You stared at the words like it was some divine intervention. You let out a shriek and jumped on your place, laughing. 

‘’Oh my God!— OH MY GOD!’’

You threw your arms around Niki’s neck so suddenly that he catched you firmly to stop both of you from falling over. You were screaming and laughing and Niki laughed too, more startled and confused than anything, automatically wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you. 

‘’It’s over! I can't believe it! I did it!’’ You laughed again, a little hysterical. ‘’It’s over, it’s over!’’

He blinked down at you, the pure face of confusion. ‘’What is?’’

‘’I survived the whole lunar cycle! It’s over! I’m free!’’

You were practically bouncing in his arms, pulling back only to grab his face and grin at him like you just won millions. 

‘’A month,’’ you started, smiling too wide. ‘’An entire lunar cycle! made it!’’

Niki stared at you, arching a brow. ‘’Lunar cycle?’’ He repeated slowly. ‘’...Is this about your period or something?’’

You didn’t even hear him, skipping away from him and spinning around the yard with your arms in the air. ‘’I can shut up! I can lie! I have options!’’

He watched you like you officially lost your mind.

You approached him again and took his hands, jumping with a smile. ‘’Do you have any idea how hard is to live without lying even once?’’

Niki’s eyebrow shoots up. ‘’You haven’t been lying this whole time?’’

You beamed at him. ‘’I haven’t!’’

He squinted at you, nodding. ‘’That… explains a lot.’’ 

‘’I’m free,’’ you whispered dramatically. ‘’It’s over.’’

Niki stared at you for a whole moment and then, very slowly, he smiled. Not a smug smirk or his teasing grin. A soft, pretty, full smile. Warm and completely smitten by you. 

You were still dancing in tiny, excited circles close to him when Niki reached out, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against his body in one smooth motion.

‘’I have no idea what’s happening,’’ he admitted quietly, brushing his nose with yours. ‘’But you look too adorable to care.’’

He kissed you, deeply, sighing into the kiss like he just found the place where he belonged. Niki held you against him, hands firm and possessive, like he was anchoring you to him. The party noises blurred into something in the back of your mind and you melted against him, fingers curling into his shirt. 

When he finally separated from your lips, a thread of saliva joined them both, which he slowly licked from your mouth. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands wandering further down until he grabbed your ass.

‘’So,’’ he murmured, staring at your eyes, ‘’does this mean you’re going to start lying to me now?’’

You smiled, slow and seductive, stealing a short kiss from him. ‘’That,’’ you whispered sweetly, ‘’depends.’’

His eyes darkened. ‘’On what?’’

You tilted your head, pretending to think about it while biting your lip. Niki’s gaze followed the movement. 

‘’On how good you’re gonna fuck me tonight.’’ 

Niki promised himself that Jake would never find out, despite all their years of friendship, that he used his parents' empty room to have sex with you in the middle of a party. But it was so fucking worth it. 

Maybe you had bitten off more than you could swallow because Niki took your challenge too seriously and you were paying for it with orgasms that didn't let you string a single thought together, your body simply reacting to his will. His mouth was closed over your nipples, alternating between sucking one and then the other until they were red and tender as you moaned and your vision blurred with a second orgasm incoming, his fingers pushed inside your soaked wet pussy. 

‘’That’s it,’’ he mumbled quietly around your nipple, sucking it again while you arched and moaned. ‘’Just take it, baby. Cum again for me, let me stretch this pretty pussy for my cock.’’ 

You gasped from overstimulation, listening to the wet noises your pussy made each time Niki thrusted his fingers inside fast and hard, clinging to his hair and pushing it towards your tits, Niki growled and sucked your nipples roughly, swirling his tongue. You came with a muffled scream and whimpered when Niki didn’t stop, your pussy tightening around his fingers as if you didn't want to let them go.

He chuckled darkly, staring at you completely fascinated at the state you were. Panting, teary, marked everywhere by his mouth; red hickeys blooming all over your neck down your chest, to the pretty and soft skin of your breasts, nipples swollen from having sucked them for so long. So prettily destroyed by him, and it was just the beginning.

‘’Fuck,’’ you whispered, a trembling mess, tears failing from pleasure. You sobbed a short laugh. ‘’You’re such a menace, Nishimura.’’

Niki straightened with a proud smirk and began working his belt, your eyes immediately fixed on the tent in his pants. You licked your lips and replaced his hands, opening his pants and pulling down his boxers until his hard cock sprang out, hard and veiny. Too big. 

‘’No way.’’

‘’What?’’

‘’It’s… so big,’’ you breathed in short gasps, encircling his cock with both hands and pumping it slowly, making him moan. You looked at it from under your eyelashes, rubbing the tip with your thumb, spreading the precum leaking. You were a girl open to accepting challenges, but this worried you a little. ‘’I don’t think it’ll fit, Niki.’’

Niki simply smiled smugly, his dark eyes filled with desire. He flipped you onto the bed, making you yelp because of how sudden and abrupt it was. Your pussy fluttered and a new gush of wetness soaked you, feeling his hands wandering through your body, gripping and squeezing your waist, your thighs, the curve of your ass. 

‘’It won’t fit,’’ you repeated shakily, even as you let Niki position you however he wanted. Face pushed down, ass up, your back arched so prettily that made him grunt and spank you. You whimpered and you turned your head, trying to look at him. ‘’Are you listening to me?’’

‘’Of course I’m listening,’’ he said, positioning himself behind you and caressing your ass with his cock, gently rubbing against your skin. He slipped his cock between your folds and began to rub it lazily back and forth making you feel how hard it was, how big it was. You dripped all over him with a moan each time the head of his cock grazed your throbbing clit. ‘’Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit just fine. You’re ready for me, you trust me, right?’’

‘’Y-yeah,’’ you moaned, feeling the tip of his cock lining up to your hole, barely pushing. Niki grabbed your hips, held you down onto the bed and slowly guided his cock inside you. ‘’I do.’’

The head of his cock pushed against your entrance, forcing its way in little by little and stretching you completely. You gasped and opened your legs wider as he pushed his cock inch by inch, making you whimper at its thickness. Fuck. You had never felt so full, so stretched out and open, a loud moan leaving without you could control yourself. 

‘’Relax for me, pretty girl,’’ he said quietly, still keeping the slow but unforgiving pace. You tried not to tense up, but everything was both too much and too little, gently sniffing against the bed as your pussy tightened around Niki's cock. ‘’Just like that, taking me so well.’’

Niki hissed softly, feeling your cunt wrapping so tight his cock was the hottest thing he ever saw; how your pretty, wet hole creamed his length. 

‘’You’re doing so well, baby,’’ he whispered, hands holding you in place, big hands caressing your waist, your ass. ‘’Opening your pretty pussy for me, letting me fill you. You can feel it, don’t you? How deep it goes?’’

You nodded, drool dripping into the pillow as coherent thoughts left your head and all you could feel was his cock inside you, making you clench so hard around him it made him moan. Niki's thrusts were slow and deep, and you swore it made you feel him all the way to your stomach. He was buried too deep inside you, each push of his thick cock stretching you further until the pleasure was too much. 

His pace quickened, his cock sliding in more easily because of how wet you were and how he had opened you up. ‘’Look at you,’’ he sneered, giving your ass a firm squeeze. ‘’Taking my cock so well, greedy pussy’s sucking me in,’’ he moaned, low and dirty. ‘’Fucking take it like a good girl.’’

Your moans grew louder and your eyes rolled back in your head as he began to fuck you faster, pounding you hard from behind. You cried from pleasure into the mattress, your pussy tightened and dripped around him, milking him with each thrust that went so far you were sure his tip was grazing your cervix. Niki was fucking you so hard that the bed moved, hitting the wall softly and you could’t do anything but to take it, a moaning mess. 

‘’Not so mouthy now, right?’’ He scoffed, giving you another spank, making you whimper and squeeze his cock harder. ‘’That’s what I fucking thought,’’ he chuckled, burying himself into your cunt faster, with a low groan. 

‘’Niki,’’ you moaned, barely able to form a sentence, not feeling anything but his thick cock and his ruthless pace, the way he was filling you. ‘’Please— I’m gonn—’’

‘’Ah, ah, not until I say so,’’ he warned you, laughing when you whined and sobbed when another spank landed on your ass. ‘’Not until you fucking say this pussy is mine. C’mon, baby, don’t keep me waiting. Say it.’’ 

‘’I-it’s—,’’ you moaned again, cunt stretched out and throbbing around him, every thrust sending you over the edge. He hit your g-spot over and over, making you tremble. ‘’It’s yours—’’ 

‘’That’s right,’’ he mumbled, slamming into your harder, deeper and desesperate; sweat dripping from his temple. ‘’Say I’m not a fucking problem.’’

‘’Niki!’’ You sobbed softly, hardly holding back from shattering. He just hummed darkly, almost amused. You shook your head quickly and moaned again, too gone to even care to lie, your pussy throbbing around his cock, needy and desperate. ‘’You’re not a problem—’’

‘’Cum for me, baby, milk my fucking cock,’’ he ordered, voice rough and husky going straight to your core. The pleasure was so intense that once you reached the peak, it simply destroyed you, leaving you trembling and broken. You were too full, overstimulated, squeezing his cock as your climax coursed through you, leaving you a whimpering mess. ‘’I’m filling this pretty hole until it overflows,’’ he promised, voice used and hoarse. ‘’Beg for it.’’

You looked at Niki from the pillow, eyelashes with unshed tears and a completely spaced out expression from being fucked too good, cheeks flushed and makeup smudged. You blinked slowly and licked your lips, milking his cock with the spasms of your cunt.

‘’Don’t pull out,’’ you gasped softly, reaching for him. Niki didn’t doubt it for a second, holding your hand while slamming into your pussy almost brutally. ‘’I want it inside—please—fill me up,’’ you begged with a broken moan. ‘’Mark my pussy with you cum—’’

Niki cursed under his breath, railing you almost at a punishing pace, using your hole until you were both moaning with raw desperation. You never felt anything so intense before and your body couldn't handle it, making you come for the fourth time with a scream as Niki buried himself deep inside you, coming with a hoarse moan. 

You collapse onto the bed, your knees giving away, your whole body trembling and sensitive. Every part of you was throbbing, used and spent. Niki spilled his load inside your cunt and you moaned softly at the feeling, flooding your womb with hot ropes of cum, making you feel so full. His body covered yours and you could feel his racing heart in your back, staying inside you as you both tried to catch your breath. 

You laid there, enjoying his weight against you, the sensation of his cock filling you, and his hot cum slowly escaping from your hole. Niki moved a little and you moaned, tensing up a little, but he gently silenced you, slowly kissing your neck until you relaxed again. 

‘’Shhh, it’s fine,’’ he said quietly, coaxing you with more soft kisses. ‘’You’re okay?’’

You nodded and sobbed a little, still holding onto his hand. Your mind felt… flying somewhere. A wave of need filling you that you didn't understand, only knowing that you wanted his warmth surrounding you. ‘’Don’t leave.’’

‘’I won’t,’’ he reassured you, slipping out of your cunt carefully. You hissed because of the sensitivity and Niki kissed your shoulder, silently apologizing. ‘’C’mere.’’

Niki settled on his side and pulled you close to his chest, studying your face while drying the wetness from your cheeks with his thumb unhurriedly, fondly. You snuggled into his chest and sighed, too drunk on orgasms to even think, just needing him closer. Niki kissed your forehead, lips lingering there, arms wrapping securely around you, making you completely content and warm. Heart fluttering happily, but that was another thing. 

‘’So? You’re gonna start lying to me?’’

You chuckled tiredly, smiling to yourself with your eyes closed. ‘’No if you keep the good work, Nishimura.’’

‘’I told you I’d be an excellent boyfriend.’’ 

Nothing Jungwon loved more than flowers. Ever since he was young, he had dreamed of owning a little flower shop of his own. Nothing too fancy nor shabby, just a warm place with color and life. After graduating with a degree in agriculture, he decided to turn his dream into a reality. His parents had been dismissive at first, doubtful that flowers alone could build a future, but after seeing how tirelessly their son worked for it, they finally chose to support him. 

Most people noticed Eden’s Garden by its flowers long before they noticed the man who tended them. Tucked between an old bakery and a tailor shop at the corner of a quiet street, the little florist was easy to miss. The flower shop originally was a greenhouse owned by an old man, then Jungwon decided to buy it and turned it into what Eden’s Garden is now. 

Jungwon stood behind the counter with his sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, fingers moving with practiced ease as he arranged a bouquet for the old lady waiting patiently across from him. She had come in every Friday for the past three months, always asking for something ‘pretty enough to make an old man smile’. 

Today, he chose pale pink carnations, cream roses, and small sprays of baby’s breath, tying them together with soft brown paper and a ribbon the color of fresh milk. He adjusted the stem once, then twice, tilting his head as he examined the balance of it. 

“Your husband likes warm colors more,” he murmured, gently replacing one white rose with a peach one. 

The old lady chuckled. “You remember better than I do.”

Jungwon only smiled, shy and quiet, before offering the finished bouquet to her with both hands. 

The bell above the door chimed softly as morning sunlight spilled across the shop floor, catching in the glass jars and petals around him. For a moment, with flowers in his hands and laughter filling the room, Jungwon looked exactly where he belonged. 

.

.

.

.

The bell above the door jingled so violently that Jungwon barely had time to look up before someone stumbled inside. It was Doctor Jake from the hospital across the street. Still in his navy scrubs, his glasses a bit tilted on the side, hair a mess like he had run all the way here. He looked as though he had just escaped a medical emergency. 

“Jungwon,” he gasped, hands on his knees. “I need flowers.” 

Jungwon set down the ribbon in his hand. “Good morning, Doctor.” 

“My relationship is in critical condition.” 

Jungwon only hummed softly as he tossed the ribbon scraps into the nearby bin. 

“That sounds serious.” 

“It is serious,” Jake said, straightening up. “She said she needs space.” 

Jungwon glanced at him. “And what did you do?” 

“I gave her space.” 

A pause. 

“Physically?” 

“Yes.”

“No, I mean what did you do to make her say that?”

Jake blinked. “Oh.” He looked suddenly sheepish. “I forgot our anniversary.” 

Jungwon let out a quiet sigh, already walking toward the flower cooler. 

“Yesterday?” he asked over his shoulder. Jake’s silence was answer enough. 

“Mm.” Jungwon opened the glass door and scanned the rows of fresh blooms. “You came here instead of writing your will. Interesting choice.” 

“Can you focus?” Jake groaned. “I’m trying to save my future.” 

“I’m tough.” Jungwon reached for a bundle of tulips. “You’re the one panicking in my store before ten in the morning.” 

Jake dragged a hand down his face. “I had a night shift.” 

Another quiet sigh slipped past Jungwon’s lips. As if Jake had never worked a night shift before. Difficult as it must be, exhaustion was hardly an excuse for forgetting something like that. 

“You’ve had night shift before,” Jungwon said flatly, selecting a few cream roses next. “Yet somehow this is the first time you’ve sprinted in here looking divorced.” 

“I’m not divorced.” 

“Not yet.” 

Jake stared at him. “You’re unbelievably unsupportive for someone helping me.” 

Jungwon merely smiled to himself as he gathered cream roses, pale tulips, and sprigs of baby’s breath into his arms.

“No red roses,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Because red roses say I panicked and stopped at the nearest flower shop.”

Jake frowned. “That is exactly what happened.”

Jungwon paused for a moment, then looked at him with mild disbelief. For someone trusted to make life-or-death decisions at a hospital, Jake could be remarkably foolish in matters of romance. 

“Well,” Jungwon said dryly, returning to his bouquet, “good thing you came to a professional.” 

Jungwon gathered the stems into one hand and began trimming them with sharp, efficient snips, his expression calm even as disbelief simmered beneath it. Honestly, he could not understand why this had somehow become part of his job. He had opened a flower shop because he loves flowers, not to clean up after an irresponsible boyfriend with poor memory and worse planning. Yet here he was, at nine in the morning, barely sipping his coffee in peace, repairing damage caused by a grown man. 

Jake hovered nearby, watching every moment like an anxious intern. 

“Can you make it look expensive?” he asked. 

“Can you try looking sincere?” 

Jake winced. “Right. Sorry.” 

With another quiet sigh, Jungwon returned to his work, layering tulips beside cream roses and soft greenery. Somewhere along the years, he had become less of a florist and more of a crisis manager for careless men in love. 

“I should start charging emotional hazard fees,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

After the bouquet finished, Jake rushed out as dramatically as he had arrived. Bouquet clutched to his chest and phone already in hand, nearly colliding with the doorframe on his way out. The bell above the entrance jingled wildly behind him before settling back into silence. 

“Flower shop owner,” he continued under his breath, adjusting a crooked vase. “Part-time relationship counselor. Full-time cleaner of other people’s messes.” The corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. 

Jungwon dusted stray leaves from the counter and reached for the next stack of wrapping paper, irritation still lingering beneath his calm expression. 

.

.

.

.

Jungwon expected many things when he stayed past closing. Last-minute customers were unfortunately one of them. 

The bell above the door rang just as he was about to flip the sign to 'closed,' and a young man in a wrinkled suit hurried inside with a guilty expression on his face, a look Jungwon knew far too well by now. 

“Please,” the stranger said, breathless. “Do you still have tulips?”

Jungwon glanced at the clock. Two minutes past eight. Of course. 

“I do,” he replied evenly, already turning back toward the cooler. “Who did you disappoint?”

The man blinked. “My wife.”

“Hm.” Jungwon selected a bundle of pink tulips. “Honesty. Rare.” 

“It’s our date night,” the man admitted. “I got stuck at work.” 

Jungwon wrapped the flowers neatly in kraft paper, fingers swift and practiced despite the annoyance tugging at his patience. He hated rushing. Hated the way people treated flowers like emergency repairs for problems they had neglected all week. 

Still, the bouquet came out lovely. It always did. 

“That’ll be twenty-three thousand,” he said.

The man paid, bowed gratefully, and hurried out with promises to do better. Jungwon doubted it.

Once the door shut behind him, silence finally settled over Eden’s Garden. Jungwon exhaled through his nose, locked the front door, and turned the sign to closed with more satisfaction than necessary. He dimmed the front light one by one, gathered ribbon scraps from the counter, and then headed toward the back to check the greenhouse before leaving. 

He expected many things when he heard the sudden crash from behind the glass doors. Stray cats, fallen pots, another loose windowpane. What he did not expect was a girl lying among overturned orchids, breathing hard, with torn wings trembling behind her like broken glass. 

Jungwon stopped where he stood. 

For a moment, his mind refused to make sense of what he was seeing. The greenhouse lights cast a warm glow over the shattered pots and scattered soil, over the pale shape of a girl curled carefully on the floor—and over the pair of delicate wings folded weakly behind her. They shimmered faintly, dusted in silver, the edges cracked and bent as though made from glass. 

A fairy. 

The thought came absurdly, impossibly clear. 

He had heard stories as a child of spirits hiding in old forests and winged beings blessing the garden in spring. He had long since grown out of believing them. Yet there was no other word for the creature struggling to sit upright among his orchids. 

You noticed him then. 

Your eyes widened, and for a second, you looked more startled than he felt. Slowly, carefully, you lowered your gaze and bowed your head despite the pain tightening your face. 

“I’m terribly sorry,” you said softly. Your voice was light as wind through leaves. “I didn’t mean to damage your flowers.” 

Jungwon only stared. 

You glanced at the broken pots beside you and seemed to shrink further in embarrassment. 

“I tried to land more gracefully,” you admitted in a small voice. “It did not go as planned.” 

Still, Jungwon said nothing. You looked back up at him, hesitant now. 

“Are humans always this quiet when surprised?”

That finally snapped him out of it. Jungwon blinked once, then twice.

“No,” he said slowly. “Usually we scream first.”

A faint, apologetic smile touched your lips before you winced and reached for your wing. Only then did Jungwon move forward, kneeling beside you as disbelief gave way to concern. 

“You’re hurt,” he murmured. 

“A little,” you said, though the tremble in your voice suggested otherwise. “I’m sorry for troubling you.” 

Jungwon glanced around at the ruined orchids, the feathers scattered like moonlight, and the fairy trying to apologize while barely able to sit upright. Somehow, this was not how he imagined ending his night. 

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Jungwon returned a moment later with a small first-aid kit tucked under one arm and a clean towel draped over the other. He had also, for reasons he did not care to examine too closely, brought a cushion from the front of the shop. 

You were still where he had left you, sitting carefully among the overturned pots with your injured wing drawn close. Your expression brightened a little when you saw him return, though pain still lingered around your eyes. 

“I wasn’t sure you would come back,” you admitted softly. 

Jungwon set the cushion down in front of you. “It’s my greenhouse,” he said. “Hard to abandon it.” 

Then, after a pause, he added, “You too, I guess.”

A shy smile touched your lips. He helped you shift onto the cushion, movement cautious and surprisingly gentle for someone who looked perpetually unimpressed by the world. Once you were settled, he knelt behind you to inspect the damage more closely. 

“Tell me if this hurts.”

“It already hurts,” you said honestly. “But I’ll let you know if it becomes dramatic.”

A quiet huff of laughter escaped him before he could stop it. 

Using warm water and a soft cloth, Jungwon carefully cleaned the dirt from the fractured edges of your wing. Up close, the structure was delicate and intricate, each translucent feather threaded with a faint silver vein that pulsed like moonlight. He handled it with the same patience he used when pruning fragile blooms. 

You shivered once when his fingers brushed a sensitive spot. 

“Sorry,” he murmured immediately. 

“It’s all right,” you said, voice smaller now. “You’re very gentle.” 

Something unreadable crossed his face. He focused harder on wrapping a strip of gauze around the split near the base. When he finished, he leaned back on his heels to study his work. 

“There. Not perfect, but it should keep it stable for tonight.”

You turned your head enough to look at him, wonder softening your features. “Humans know how to mend wings?” 

“We don’t,” Jungwon said. “I’m improvising.” 

“That may be even more impressive.”

He looked away first. Then his gaze flicked back to you, lingering on how pale you’d gone. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, as though the question had surprised even him. 

“Hungry?”

“You crashed through my greenhouse,” he said flatly. “I assume that takes energy.” 

A tiny laugh slipped from you. “Yes,” you confessed. “Very much so.” 

Jungwon rose to his feet. 

“Stay there. Don’t touch anything expensive.”

As he headed toward the shop kitchen, you watched him go with a smile that felt strangely warm in the quiet greenhouse. 

Jungwon returned carrying what looked like a tray assembled through reluctant thoughtfulness. A small saucer no bigger than his palm held a few berries, torn petals of edible flowers, and a single cube of honeycomb. Beside it sat a thimble-sized cup of water and half of a steamed bun from the baker next door. 

You blinked at the offering, then at him. 

“You prepared this?”

“I guessed,” he said, setting it carefully on the potting table. “You’re smaller than most of my customers.”

A soft laugh escaped you. “That’s true.”

He dragged a stool over and sat across from you, arms folded. 

“Eat.”

You climbed a little closer to the tray, wings tucked carefully behind you, and picked up one berry with both hands. The fruit looked oversized against your palms. After one bite, your eyes widened with delight. 

“This is wonderful.” 

“It’s a blueberry.”

“It’s a perfect blueberry,” you corrected gently. “Sweet, cool, and sun-warmed.” 

Jungwon watched as you nibbled another bite with the concentration of someone tasting treasure. Then you reached for the honeycomb. The moment the golden sweetness touched your tongue, you let out the tiniest sigh of happiness. He stared. 

“Is honey always this good?” you asked. 

“Yes,” Jungwon said slowly. “Have you never had it before?” 

“Not from human shops.” You took another careful bite. “Everything here tastes heavier. Richer. It lingers.”

He did not know what that meant, but nodded as though he did. You sampled the bun next, tearing off a piece no larger than a petal. 

“Warm bread,” you whispered, visibly moved. 

“It’s from next door.” 

“Then your neighboring kingdom is also blessed.” 

Jungwon looked away to hide the smile threatening his mouth. When you reached for the tiny cup of water made out of a bottle cap, your injured wing twitched painfully. You winced. He was beside you before thinking, steadying the cup so it would not tip. Your fingers brushed his. You both paused. 

“Thank you,” you said softly. 

“It’s just water.”

“And yet,” you murmured, looking up at him with bright eyes, “you keep saving me with simple things.”

Jungwon straightened too quickly and returned to fixing overturned pots. Behind him, he could still hear your small, delighted hums over berries and bread. Somehow, in the middle of a ruined greenhouse and a very long night, the sound made the place feel warmer than it had all day. 

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The next morning arrived quietly, washed in pale gold sunlight that filtered through the glass panes of the greenhouse. Jungwon unlocked the back door with a yawn, balancing a tray of watering tools in one hand and a paper cup of coffee in the other. He had almost convinced himself that the events of last night were some elaborate exhaustion-induced dream. An injured fairy in his greenhouse sounded far less believable in daylight.  

Then he stepped inside. And there you were. Fast asleep on the makeshift bed he had arranged from folded blankets, spare cushions, and an old linen cloth usually used for wrapping pots. You had curled into yourself near the row of hydrangeas, one tiny hand tucked beneath your cheek. Your wings, carefully bandaged by his own clumsy hands, were folded close behind you, catching the morning light in soft silver hues. 

Jungwon stopped in the doorway. For a moment, he simply stared. In sleep, you looked even smaller than he remembered. A few loose petals had gathered around your bed during the night, as though the flowers had crept closer to watch over you. 

He had spent years trying to keep this greenhouse alive, and somehow, overnight, it had decided to adopt a fairy. The floor creaked beneath his shoe. Your nose scrunched first. Then your lashes fluttered open slowly, heavy with sleep. For a second, you only blinked up at him in confusion before memory returned. 

“Oh,” you murmured, voice soft and rough with sleep. “Good morning.” 

Jungwon looked away too quickly, clearing his throat. 

“You’re drooling.”

You sat up at once, horrified. “I am?”

“No.”

You stared. A beat passed before he took a sip of coffee, expression unreadable. 

“That was mean,” you said quietly. 

“It was funny,” Jungwon replied, already moving toward the watering cans so you wouldn’t see the corner of his mouth lift. 

Jungwon busied himself with the watering cans, pretending he had not just lied to an injured fairy before breakfast. Behind him, he heard the rustle of blankets and the soft shift of wings as you carefully sat straighter on the makeshift bed. 

For a few quiet moments, the greenhouse was filled only with the sound of running water and morning birds beyond the glass. Then, your voice drifted over, gentle and curious. 

“What is it that you do for a living?”

Jungwon glanced back. You were watching him with open interest, knees tucked beneath the blanket, hair still mussed from sleep. He frowned slightly. “You mean right now?”

“In general,” you said, smiling a little. “Humans seem to spend much of their time doing things for a living.”

He considered that. “I own this place.” He gestured around the greenhouse. “The flower shop out front, too. I arrange bouquets, sell plants, keep everything alive.” 

Your eyes widened with genuine admiration. “You care for flowers every day?”

“That’s the job.”

“Thats sounds lovely.”

“It’s mostly dirt, invoices, and people who remember anniversaries too late.”

You laughed softly, the sound bright enough to make him pause mid-pour. 

“I think it suits you,” you said. “You have gentle hands.”

Jungwon nearly overwatered a fern. He set the can down with unnecessary care. 

“Mm.” 

Then, because he needed the subject away from himself immediately, he turned back to you.  

“What about you?” he asked. “Why did the accident happen?” 

Your smile faded. Fingers curled lightly into the blanket over your lap. For a moment, you looked down at your bandaged wing. 

“My home was destroyed,” you said quietly. 

Jungwon stilled. 

You glanced toward the glass roof, eyes distant now. “It was a garden. Full of blooming flowers. Vines, ponds, trees older than memory.” A small breath left you. “It’s gone now.” 

He said nothing, sensing there was little to say. 

“I had nowhere to return to,” you continued softly. “So I wandered, looking for another place where I might stay.” 

Your fingers tightened around the blanket.

“Then a hunting creature found me.”

Jungwon frowned. “What kind of creature?”

You hesitated. “Small. Round face. Sharp eyes. Very smug.”

He blinked once. “A cat?”

You looked offended. “It was vicious.”

Jungwon had to look away to hide the smile threatening his mouth.

“It chased me through the alleyways,” you said with wounded dignity. “I flew faster than I should have. Then I saw this greenhouse full of flowers and thought I could hide here.”

His eyes moved slowly over the broken pots, spilled soil, and bent orchid stand.

“You then flew directly into my shelves.”

“I lost control,” you murmured. “At the last moment.”

“You crashed through three pots.”

“Two and a half.”

Jungwon let out a quiet breath that was almost laughter.

Despite the absurdity of it, something in your voice lingered with him—the way you spoke of a ruined home, of wandering alone, of choosing his greenhouse because it was full of flowers.

He reached for another watering can, tone calmer when he spoke again.

“Well,” he said, not looking at you, “until your wing heals… You can stay here.”

For a moment, the greenhouse went completely still. Even the faint rustle of leaves seemed to pause. You looked at him as though you were not certain you had heard correctly.

“…I may stay?”

Jungwon kept his attention fixed on the row of ferns in front of him. “Temporarily.”

Your voice turned smaller, softer. “Here?”

“Until your wing heals,” he repeated.

For a heartbeat, you simply stared at him. Then your eyes began to shine in a way that caught him entirely off guard. 

“It’s not a place invitation, it’s a spare corner in a greenhouse.” 

But you were already pushing yourself carefully to your feet, clutching the blanket around your shoulders. 

“This is the kindest thing anyone has done for me in a very long time.” 

The sincerity in your voice made him glance over despite himself. You looked genuinely overwhelmed by something he considered practical at best. 

“Thank you, Jungwon.” 

His name sounded different in your mouth. Soft, careful, almost precious. Jungwon forgot, briefly, what he had been doing. You bowed your head over his hands, though it was something worthy of reverence, then looked up at him with such open gratitude that he had to clear his throat and look away. 

“You’re making this weird,” he said quietly. 

A tiny laugh escaped you, bright as wind chimes. He risked another glance and immediately regretted it. You were smiling at him like he had handed you the world instead of an unused corner and some blankets. Ridiculous. And, annoyingly, kind of cute. 

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Later that morning, once the front sign had been turned to open, Jungwon guided you into the narrow space behind a tall shelf of potted hydrangeas near the doorway between the shop and greenhouse. From there, hidden between leaves and ribbons, you had a clear view of the counter. 

“This is your spot,” he said. “Stay quiet, stay hidden, and don’t reveal yourself to strangers.” 

You nodded solemnly. “I shall be invisible.”

“You are currently sparkling.” 

You looked down in alarm and quickly tucked your wings closer. Jungwon sighed and went to unlock the front door. The bell chimed only minutes later. An elderly woman entered first, leaning on a cane with careful steps. Before she could even speak, Jungwon had already moved around the counter. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Han,” he said, taking the basket from her hand. “The daisies lasted longer this week?” 

Her face brightened. “You remembered.”

“You complained about them twice,” he said mildly. 

You watched, wide-eyed, as he selected fresh stems and adjusted them to a height easier for her to carry. He even tied the ribbon loosely so arthritic fingers could undo it without trouble. When she left smiling, you pressed both hands to your mouth. He knew her flowers. He knew her hands. 

The bell rang again. This time, a nervous student came in asking for ‘something pretty, but cheap’.

Jungwon did not laugh. He simply asked, “For apology or confession?” 

The boy flushed crimson. “Confession.”

“Then yellow tulips. They’re hopeful without being arrogant.” 

You nearly gasped aloud. He could read hearts from a flower request alone. 

Throughout the morning, customers came and went. A mother with a crying toddler received a free carnation to distract the child. A tired office worker was offered water before discussing the colors of the bouquet. A young woman is uncertain about caring for succulents left with written instructions and Jungwon’s promise that she could return if she killed them accidentally. 

Each time, he remained calm, steady, a little dry in humor—but attentive in ways so small most people probably missed them. He noticed trembling hands, tired eyes, wedding rings, and ink stains, as well as sadness hidden beneath smiles. And he responded gently every time. 

From behind the hydrangeas, you could only stare. When the shop finally emptied for a moment, Jungwon began reorganizing ribbon at the counter. You slipped out from hiding before remembering you were supposed to stay hidden. 

“You’re astonishing,” you blurted. 

He looked up slowly. “That sounds suspicious.” 

“You care for them the way you care for flowers.”

Jungwon blinked once. “I sell them flowers.”

“No,” you said, stepping closer. “You make them feel seen.”

The ribbon in his hand stilled. For once, he had nothing dry or clever to say. You smiled at him with shining admiration. Jungwon looked down at the ribbons again, ears faintly pink. 

“Get back behind the hydrangeas before someone walks in.” 

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That afternoon slowed into a gentle lull. Sunlight poured through the front windows in warm strips, turning the shop golden and quiet. No customers came for nearly half an hour, leaving only the soft hum of the refrigerator cooler and the distant sound of traffic outside. 

Jungwon used the silence to sort a shipment of fresh stems at the worktable near the greenhouse door. Roses, lisianthus, eucalyptus, peonies–ordinary things, familiar things. Easy to understand. 

You, meanwhile, were not. 

He glanced over to find you perched on the edge of a wooden crate, legs swinging idly as you studied a sunflower that was bigger and taller than you. Your injured wing was tucked carefully behind you, bandages neat from where he had changed them earlier. The other wing caught the light each time it moved, scattering tiny flecks of shimmer across the floor. 

You reached out with both hands and cupped the sunflower’s face with reverence.

“It follows the sun,” you whispered, delighted. “How loyal.”

Jungwon stared for a moment too long before looking back down at the stems in his hands.

“It’s called heliotropism,” he said.

You turned immediately. “You know the language of flowers scientifically and emotionally. That feels unfair.” 

He nearly cut the eucalyptus crooked. A few minutes later, he looked up again. You had discovered the ribbon drawer. Lengths of satin and organza were spread around you like treasure while you held a spool of green ribbon above your head. 

“This one matches your aura,” you announced. 

“I don’t have an aura.”

“Everyone has an aura.” You squinted at him thoughtfully. “Yours is moss after rain.” 

Jungwon had no idea what that meant. Yet somehow, hearing it made his chest feel strange. He went back to trimming stems. Then came a soft gasp. He looked up sharply. 

You were standing beside a vase of unopened lilies, hands clasped under your chin. Before his eyes, the tight buds slowly loosened, petals unfolding one by one as if waking from sleep.

Jungwon straightened. “Did you do that?”

You blinked at him. “A little.”

“That’s possible?”

“You talk to flowers with water and patience,” you said simply. “I talk to them differently.”

He walked closer without meaning to, gaze fixed on the lilies now fully open and fragrant. All his life, flowers had been work. Beautiful work, yes–but still predictable in their own ways. Soil, sunlight, pruning, seasons. Cause and effect. 

But you stood among them like something from a story, smiling shyly because you thought opening lilies was ordinary. Jungwon looked at your face, then your bandaged wing, then the petals blooming around you. 

Ridiculous. Impossible. Entirely inconvenient. And he couldn’t stop looking. 

You tilted your head. “Why are humans always so quiet when surprised?”

He blinked, caught.

“…Because sometimes,” he said slowly, “we don’t know what to say.”

Your smile softened. For the rest of the afternoon, Jungwon found himself glancing up every few minutes—just to make sure you were still there. 

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Days slipped into one another so quietly that Jungwon did not notice when caring for you became part of his routine. 

At first, he told himself it was temporary. You were an injured guest, nothing more. A strange responsibility that had fallen into his greenhouse like broken weather. He was only helping until your wing healed. 

Then, somehow, mornings began with looking for you first. 

He would unlock the greenhouse and find you asleep in a nest of blankets, petals gathered around your hair, or sitting cross-legged by the window, whispering to seedlings until they stood a little taller. Sometimes you would already be awake, waiting for him with a bright, “Good morning, Jungwon,” spoken as though his arrival was the best part of your day.

He never admitted how much he liked hearing it. 

You learned the rhythm of the shop quickly. When a customer came, you hid in the back room or behind the taller plants, peeking through leaves with scandalous curiosity. When the store emptied, you emerged to ask endless questions.

Why did humans apologize with flowers? 

Why did some people buy roses only after making mistakes?

Why did Jungwon frown when concentrating, but smile at lilies?

He had no answer for the last one. 

You followed him everywhere your wing allowed. If he watered the orchids, you carried the spray bottle two-handed behind him.  If he trimmed stems, you sorted discarded leaves into neat little piles. If he rearranged displays, you offered opinions no one asked for.                                                                                                                        

“That vase is insecure,” you declared once.

“It’s ceramic.”

“It knows what it did.”

Jungwon laughed so suddenly that he startled himself. That happened more often now. You had a way of filling quiet spaces without making them loud. The greenhouse, once peaceful in a lonely sort of way, now felt warm with your presence. There was always the soft rustle of wings, the hum of your voice, the occasional gasp of delight over something ordinary. Bread. Rain. Fresh peonies. The fact that pencils could be sharpened. 

You made the world seem newer than he remembered it being. And you notice him in ways others did not. 

You left flowers beside his register ‘because they matched his mood’. You reminded him to eat when lunch hours grew busy. You scolded him gently when he worked too late. You thanked him every single night for letting you stay, as though he had not already lost count of how many times he would say yes. 

One afternoon, while tying ribbons for an order, Jungwon realized he was smiling before you had even entered the room. He had heard your footsteps in the hall and smiled automatically. The realization unsettled him. He set the ribbon down and stared at nothing for a long moment. Then you appeared in the doorway carrying a strawberry twice the size of your face. 

“Look what I found,” you announced proudly. 

Jungwon looked at you, ridiculous and radiant in the late sunlight, and felt the strange tightness in his chest again. 

“Wash it first,” he said. 

You beamed as though he had said something tender. 

Maybe, Jungwon thought as he watched you hurry to the sink, he was growing used to having a fairy around. Maybe that was all it was. But when you laughed from the kitchen a second later, bright and familiar, even he knew he was lying to himself. 

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It happened on an afternoon so ordinary that Jungwon almost missed how impossible it was. 

Rain tapped softly against the greenhouse glass, customers were scarce, and the shop smelled of damp earth and fresh eucalyptus. Jungwon was in the back room sorting inventory sheets while muttering about missing ribbon spools. You had been strangely quiet for nearly twenty minutes. That alone was suspicious. 

He looked up from the papers. “What are you doing?”

No answer. Jungwon frowned and pushed back his chair. “If you’re using magic on the stock again, I’m charging rent.”

Still nothing. 

He followed the faint rustling sound toward the greenhouse, stepping around buckets and crates until he reached the row of climbing roses near your makeshift bed. Then he stopped so abruptly that the clipboard nearly slipped from his hand. You were standing in the middle of the aisle. Not perched on a crate. Not small enough to fit in his palm-sized blankets. Standing. Human-sized. 

Your head nearly reached his shoulder now, wings spread carefully behind you in a softened shimmer. The loose shirt he had left folded nearby hung off one shoulder, its sleeves too long for his arms, the hem brushing the tops of his thighs. Bare legs, tousled hair, startled eyes. You looked just as shocked to see him as he was to see you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Jungwon’s brain, usually dependable and practical, offered nothing useful. 

“...What,” he said finally, “is this?”

You clutched the oversized shirt tighter. “I can explain.” 

“I would love that.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor. “Fairies can shift forms.” 

“You could do this the whole time?” 

“No!” you said quickly. “Not properly. It requires strength, and my wing has been damaged.” 

You flexed your fingers uncertainly, as if surprised by their length. “I only just regained enough magic to hold it.”

Jungwon stared. This explained many things. None of them helped. 

“You mean to tell me,” he said slowly, “that for days I’ve been making you tiny fruit plates when you could one day become…” He gestured helplessly at all of you. “...this?”

You bit your lip. “The fruit plates were very sweet.”

His eyes caught on the way the borrowed shirt slipped lower on your shoulder. He looked away so fast it almost hurt. 

“And you chose now to mention this because?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“You’ve succeeded.”

A pause.

“Are you upset?” you asked softly.

Jungwon looked back then. You stood there, nervous and hopeful, bare feet against his greenhouse floor, wrapped in one of his shirt like it belonged to you. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled. 

“No,” he said after too long. His voice came out rougher than intended. “Just… unprepared.”

Your expression brightened instantly. “Then you’re not angry?”

“I didn’t say that.”

You laughed, warm and relieved, taking one step toward him. The movement made your still-healing wing wobble. Jungwon was beside you before thinking, hand catching your waist to steady you. Both of you froze. His palm burned through the thin fabric. Yours caught lightly at his wrist. Up close, you smelled like rainwater and flowers. Jungwon cleared his throat and stepped back at once. 

“Sit down,” he said. “Before you break something else.”

You smiled in a way that made his pulse deeply uncooperative. You only nodded. He turned sharply and walked back toward the stockroom. Behind him, he heard your soft laughter echo through the greenhouse. He did not return for five full minutes. 

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The discovery of your human-sized form changed surprisingly little. Jungwon had expected complications. More blankets, larger meals, perhaps an entirely new category of headaches. Instead, by the next morning, he opened the greenhouse to find you exactly as usual—small again, curled atop a folded towel beside the basil pots, one wing draped over your face to block the sunlight. He stared down at you.

“You can become human-sized,” he said. “And yet you choose to sleep in a herb tray.”

Your wing twitched. Then you peeked out at him with one sleepy eye.

“It smells nice.”

“That is not an answer.”

“I like being light. I like fitting into warm places. I like hearing flowers from close by.”

That was such a fairy sentence that he did not know how to respond. So instead, he handed you the lid of his coffee cup, now emptied and rinsed, filled with fresh water. 

“Drink this before you start saying stranger things.”

You accept it happily. 

You followed Jungwon through the shop perched on his shoulder like an inquisitive ornament, asking questions from sunrise to closing.

“Why do humans brush their teeth every morning if they become dirty again?”

“Because that’s how cleaning works.”

“Why do people stare at glowing rectangles while ignoring flowers?”

“Phones.”

“That did not answer the question.”

You rode in his apron pocket while he restocked ribbon, peering over the edge like a suspicious manager. You sat cross-legged on the register while he counted change, watching coins stack with fascination. You once spent twenty minutes observing the receipt printer as if it were a mystical beast.

“It screams paper,” you whispered in awe.

“It prints receipts.”

When business was slow, you demanded lessons on ‘human daily rituals’. Jungwon showed you how to make tea. You insisted the kettle was too aggressive. He demonstrated sweeping. You called brooms ‘floor combs’. 

He tried explaining taxes once. You stared at him in silence before declaring, ‘That cannot be real’. 

“What do fairies even do all day?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You keep interrogating humans. I’m asking back.”

You considered it seriously.

“We greet flowers in the morning,” you said. “We collect dew. We nap in warm petals. We sing to roots when they are sad.”

Jungwon stared. “Roots get sad?”

“Sometimes.”

“What else?”

“We chase dragonflies. We braid grass. We gossip.”

“With who?”

“The bees, mostly.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Of course.”

“What do humans do for fun?”

The question came while Jungwon was trimming wilted leaves from a row of daisies near closing time. He did not look up. 

“Depends on the human.” 

You sat cross-legged on the counter, chin in your hands, wings flicking lazily behind you. “What do you do for fun?” 

“I enjoy silence.”

“That cannot be the whole answer.”

“It’s a strong one.”

You frowned at him. “No festivals? No dances? No moonlit flower gatherings?”

“We have bills,” Jungwon said dryly.

You gasped softly, scandalized. “That is tragic.”

He continued clipping stems, pretending not to notice the way you were now staring at him with obvious pity.

“I think,” you declared, “you have forgotten how to enjoy life.”

“I think,” Jungwon replied, “you’ve been alive in my greenhouse too long.”

When the last customer left, he locked the front door, flipped the sign to closed, and began counting the register. Behind him, you sighed dramatically every few seconds. He lasted three minutes. 

You perked up at once. “What?” 

“You wanted to know what humans do for fun.” He grabbed his coat from the hook. “Come on.”

Your wings fluttered so fast they blurred. “We are going on an adventure?”

“We are walking three blocks.”

“That is still an adventure.”

Ten minutes later, you were tucked safely inside the deep pocket of his coat, only your head peeking out as he walked down the quiet evening street. The city glowed in warm shop lights and passing headlights, rainwater still shining on the pavement from earlier. You stared at everything. 

“The world sparkles at night,” you whispered.

“It’s puddles.”

“It’s magic puddles.”

He took you to the convenience store first.

You nearly fainted at the snack aisle.

“So many colors,” you breathed. “So many shapes. Why is that bread smiling?”

“It’s a mascot.”

“It knows something.”

Jungwon bought you a small honey candy after five full minutes of you pressing your face to the packaging displays. Outside, he unwrapped it and handed it over.

You held it like a jewel. “For me?”

“You were becoming a public spectacle.”

You licked the candy once and gasped. “Humans are geniuses.”

He looked away to hide the smile tugging at his mouth.

Next, he took you through the small night market near the station. Steam rose from food stalls. Music drifted from somewhere unseen. People laughed, bargained, and hurried past. From his pocket, you watched it all with shining eyes. 

“So this is fun,” you said softly.

“This is crowds and overpriced snacks.”

“This,” you insisted, “is life happening everywhere at once.”

Jungwon glanced down at you. Your face was lit by lantern glow, wonder written plainly across it. Something in his chest shifted again. later , on the walk home, you grew quieter, sleepy from excitement. You leaned against the inside of his pocket, clutching the candy wrapper like treasure. 

“Jungwon?” 

“Mm?” 

“Thank you for showing me human fun.” 

He kept his gaze on the road ahead.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“It was to me.”

A pause.

Then, softer—already half asleep:

“You make ordinary things feel safe.”

Jungwon’s steps slowed for just a second. When he reached Eden’s Garden, you were asleep in his pocket, warm and trusting. He stood outside the shop door longer than necessary before unlocking it, strangely unwilling to disturb you. 

.

.

.

.

A week later, Jungwon noticed it before you did. 

You were hovering. Only an inch above the greenhouse floor, wobbling dangerously near a bucket of fertilizer. Jungwon set down the watering can at once. “Get down.” 

“I’m flying,” you corrected, voice full of triumph. 

You drifted sideways, clipped a hanging fern, and landed in a pot of basil. 

“A temporary setback,” you said from the leaves. But he had already crossed the room, crouching beside you with an expression caught somewhere between concern and disbelief. 

“Are you hurt?” 

“No.” You sat up, leaves in your hair, grinning so brightly it almost annoyed him. “Did you see?” 

He had. 

More than that, he had seen the way your wings moved now without trembling, the silver fractures nearly gone, the old stiffness replaced by clean, smooth light. The bandages he had changed day after day were no longer needed. 

Jungwon reached out before thinking, fingertips brushing the edge of your wing. It was whole. You went still at the touch. 

“They healed,” he murmured. 

Your smile softened. “Because you cared for them.”

“I wrapped gauze badly and fed you fruit.” 

“You stayed.” 

The simple answer left him strangely quiet. You stepped out of the basil pot and spread your wings carefully. Morning light poured through the greenhouse glass, catching every translucent panel until they shimmered like water. 

“May I try again?” you asked. 

He should have said no, told you to rest, to wait, to be careful. Instead, Jungwon only nodded once. You bent your knees, then lifted. This time, there was no wobble. No crash. No panicked grab for nearby shelves. You rose smoothly into the warm air, higher and higher until you circled above the hanging ivy with a laugh so bright it filled the entire greenhouse. 

Jungwon stood motionless below, head tilted back. You were beautiful like this. Weightless. Made for the sky in a way the earth could never keep. The realization hit harder than expected. You dipped lower, spinning once before landing lightly in front of him, cheeks flushed with joy. 

“I did it!” 

He looked at your shining face, then at the wings now strong enough to carry you anywhere. 

“Yes,” he said quietly. “You did.” 

You stepped closer, excitement fading as you noticed something in his expression. 

“Jungwon?”

He turned away first, reaching for the watering can he no longer needed. 

“Don’t break anything on your victory lap.” 

But the greenhouse suddenly felt too small, and far too empty. 

.

.

.

.

The morning your wings fully healed, the greenhouse felt inextricably bright. 

You had risen laughing into the air at sunrise, circling the rafters with effortless grace before landing in a spill of golden light. There was no tremble now, no hesitation, no pain. Only freedom. 

Jungwon had smiled. Just not for very long. For the rest of the day, he buried himself in work. He rearranged bouquets that did not need to be rearranged, polished shelves already clean, and spent ten full minutes glaring at the ribbon spool as though it had offended him personally. You noticed, of course. You always did. 

When closing time came, you found him in the greenhouse stacking empty pots with unnecessary focus. 

“My wings are better,” you said softly. 

“So I’ve heard.”

You stood there for a moment, hands clasped behind your back. 

“I think… I should go soon.”

The pot in his hands nearly slipped. He set it down carefully before answering. 

“Probably.” 

Your smile dimmed. “Probably?”

“You wanted to travel.” He kept his eyes on the shelf. “Find somewhere new. Bigger than this place.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than it should have. Then you nodded once. “I see.”

He did not look at you. That night, Jungwon barely slept. The next morning, he opened the shop to find your makeshift bed neatly folded. The tiny cup you liked to drink from had been washed and left upside down to dry. The ribbon drawer was organized by color. 

You were gone. 

For a full minute, Jungwon simply stood there. The greenhouse was quiet again. Too quiet. No humming. No questions. No soft voice asking why humans enjoyed bitter bean water. His chest tightened painfully. He lasted seven minutes. 

Then he was out the door.

He found you on the rooftop of the building across the street, standing at the ledge where the morning wind tugged at your hair. In your human-sized form, your wings gleamed behind you, strong and radiant beneath the sky.

You turned when you heard him. 

“I forgot to say goodbye properly,” you said. 

Jungwon was slightly out of breath, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. 

“Don’t go.” 

The words came rough, immediate, and far too honest. Your eyes widened. He swallowed once. “I know your wings are healed. I know you can leave whenever you want.” He looked away briefly, jaw tight. “But I don’t want you to.” 

The wind moved softly between you. Jungwon forced himself to continue.

“This place was quiet before you came.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Too quiet. Now every corner reminds me of you. The basil tray. My pocket. The fact that I apparently buy honey candy now.”

A watery smile touched your lips. He stepped closer. 

“I don’t know when it happened,” he said quietly. “But somewhere between fixing your wing and arguing about taxes, you became…”

He exhaled.

“…home.”

Your eyes filled at once.

“Jungwon…”

“If you still want to travel, then go,” he said, voice gentler now. “If you want the sky, I won’t stop you.”

“But if you’d like to stay…” He met your gaze fully. “Stay with me.”

You crossed the space between you so quickly that he barely had time to brace before your arms wrapped around him. This time, human-sized and warm and laughing through tears.

“I was waiting,” you whispered into his shoulder. “I was waiting for you to ask.”

Jungwon held you tightly, face buried in your hair.

“You are impossible,” he muttered.

“And staying,” you replied.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes soft in a way he no longer bothered hiding.

“Good.”

Then he kissed you there beneath the open sky, gentle and certain, while your wings shimmered in the morning light.

.

.

.

.

Months later, customers often whispered that Eden’s Garden bloomed more beautifully than any florist in the city. Flowers opened overnight. Wilted stems revived by morning. The whole place seemed touched by luck. Jungwon, tying ribbons behind the counter, only sighed when tiny laughter came from the tulips. 

“I said no magic on inventory.”

“No promises,” came your cheerful voice.

And Eden’s Garden, at last, had become home to you.

Hannah leaned back in her chair, looking mighty pleased with herself. "Why, thank you."

Now, as you stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, half your closet scattered across the room, you were beginning to realize that there was a very real possibility that Logan would simply smile and nod. The man was impossible to prank—partly because he was so observant, partly because he was so annoyingly nice.

You lifted your favourite dress to your chest, studying it with a critical eye, just as the bedroom door creaked open.

Speak of the devil.

Logan stepped inside, hair still damp around the ends from his shower after practice. He was dressed in a Bruins t-shirt and grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Your eyes met his brown ones, the corner of his mouth tipped upward into that gorgeous smile.

You watched his face as gaze shifted from your face to the mess covering the bed and half of the floor space of the room, then landed right back to you, meeting your eyes in the mirror. His smile widened at the sight of you with that dress. "What happened in here, babe?"

Game time, you thought to yourself, turning to him. "Oh good, you're here."

"Yeah?" confusion flickered across his face as you held up the dress, raising your eyebrows at him in question.

"What do you think of this?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

Logan dropped his duffel back beside the bedside table, kicking off his shoes. He walked over to you, placing a hand on your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "You know I love you in everything, babe. But yeah, that dress always looks incredible on you."

You smiled, turning back to the mirror. In the reflection, you could see the mattress dip beneath his weight as Logan perched on the edge of the bed, still studying you with that smile on his face.

You met his stare in the mirror, your mind playing the opening notes of your master plan. "God, I'm so excited for tomorrow."

Logan blinked. "What's tomorrow?"

You almost laughed—almost. But you were determined not to break character, so instead, you forced your face into a look of utter confusion. "What do you mean, what's tomorrow? Its the date you planned for us."

A long pause stretched out between the two of you. Then, Logan's brow creased into a tiny frown. "The... date. Right."

The words coming out of his mouth were perfectly calm, which immediately threw you off, because other than the little crease on his brow, there was no evidence of panic, or confusion—not even concern. You narrowed your eyes.

Interesting.

Logan reached for the TV remote, casually crossing his legs as he leaned back. Your suspicion deepened, because there was no way he was this calm, this collected. There was no date. No reservation, no plans, nothing.

You would've known. He would've told you... unless. A horrible possibility entered your mind, because John Logan was the kindest, most thoughtful man ever, and more importantly, he knew how much you loved surprises. So maybe, just maybe... he'd actually planned something, and you'd accidentally stumbled right into it?

The thought almost made your confidence waver, until you caught the look on his face. His eyes were fixed on the TV, but you knew the expression in his eyes. You'd seen it before—during games, while the two of you studied for finals, before presentations. John Logan was thinking.

You bit back your smile, trying not to completely ruin your own prank, especially as Logan, in the most faux-casual voice you'd ever heard, asked: "So, babe, what're you most excited about?"

Oh, he was fishing—you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out exactly what you were talking about. The realization nearly made you giddy, even as you fought to keep a straight face, shrugging. "Oh, you know what I'm most excited about."

"No, I don't know." The innocence in his voice was almost convincing—almost.

"No?" you asked, fighting to keep a straight face. The two of you stared at each other for a minute, and then—then, Logan's face split into a smile. A beautiful, Logan smile.

Suddenly, your faith in the plan working out wavered, because somehow, against all logic, it suddenly felt like he wasn't the one being set up—you were.

The second the bedroom door snapped shut behind him, Logan knew he was fucked.

Not because there was definitely a date, but because there might be. Which was, somehow, infinitely worse.

"You're pacing, man."

Logan looked up from where he'd been wearing a path into the carpet of his friend's bedroom. Garrett was sprawled across his bed, one arm tucked behind his head as he watched Logan with growing amusement.

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but Garret raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly down at Logan's feet.

Right. He was, in fact, pacing.

Garrett sat up. "Come on, man. What's wrong."

Logan sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, contemplating whether or not he should keep the thoughts plaguing his mind to himself... then immediately abandoned that plan—because Garrett was his best friend, and he was rapidly losing his mind. "She says she's really excited for our date tomorrow."

Garrett blinked. "Is there a reason she should not be?"

"I don't even know if there's a date tomorrow," Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"What the fuck?" Garrett ran a hand over his face. "How could you not know?"

Logan shrugged. "There's a possibility she might be messing with me."

Garrett nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Or," Logan sighed dramatically, collapsing onto the foot of Garrett's bed. "I forgot."

"You forgot a date?" Garrett burst out laughing, and for a moment, Logan genuinely looked around the room for something to throw at his head.

"This isn't funny."

Garrett only laughed harder. "Sorry, man. It kinda is, though."

Logan burrowed his face into the mattress, groaning. "She's picking out dresses and shit, dude."

"Huh."

Logan lifted his head. "What?"

"No idea," Garrett shrugged. "But... if she's trying to prank you, that's hilarious."

Logan narrowed his eyes at Garrett, but his grin only widened. Then, after a moment, he sighed. "Okay, worst-case scenario: you forgot a date with your girlfriend."

Logan winced. "Jesus."

Garrett leaned forward. "No, listen. This is simple. You just need to take her on the greatest date of all time."

Logan blinked. "What?"

"Yeah, man. It's the only way. You gotta plan the date to end all dates."

"Come on, man. This is serious."

"I'm being serious." Garret sat up, his brow furrowing, deep in thought. "Think about it."

Logan usually hated when Garrett said that—because it meant that his friend was about to make an annoyingly good point. And it stood true this time too. Because either way, regardless of whether he was being pranked, or if he'd actually fucked up and forgotten, his girl deserved a date. Heck, his girl deserved everything. "Fuck."

Garrett leaned, back against the headboard, smug smile on his face. "Exactly."

If there really was a date he'd somehow forgotten, this fixed the problem. And if there wasn't—well, he still got to spend a day with you. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and Garrett smirked. "There's that face again."

"What face?"

"The one you make whenever she's involved."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Garrett ignored him, grabbing Logan's phone. "Okay, let's plan the greatest date ever."

An hour later, what had somehow started as a joke had somehow turned into a full-scale operation.

Logan's notebook was open between the two of them, Garrett's laptop balanced on the edge of the bed.

"What's her favorite restaurant?" Garrett asked, frowning at the listings on the screen.

"The sushi place downtown."

The keys on Garrett's keyboard clacked as he wrote it down. "Favorite dessert?"

"Cheesecake from the bakery near campus."

"Favorite flowers?"

Logan didn't even take a moment. "Pink lillies."

Garrett paused, slowly turning his head to look at Logan. "Dude, you answered that way too quickly."

Logan frowned. "I know my girlfriend."

"You know your girlfriend's favorite flower. I don't even know my favorite flower."

Logan couldn't help but let out a laugh at the genuinely offended look on Garrett's face, because it made sense. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, and he wasn't about to let anything—anything—get in the way of making you happy, not even himself.

He could already feel the tension he'd been carrying since leaving the bedroom easing slightly, because now, he had a plan.

Actually, he had several plans—dinner, dessert, a walk afterward, maybe the bookstore you'd been talking about for months. Things that might not look like grand, extravagant gestures on the outside, but things he knew you'd love anyway. Things he knew would make you smile.

He could feel Garrett's watchful eyes on him and the realization settled warmly in his chest. "You know she's probably fucking with you, right?"

Logan could feel his face splitting into a slow, soft smile, "I know."

Garrett froze, the room enveloped in silence for a moment. Then: "What do you mean, you know? You spent an hour freaking out."

"I wasn't freaking out."

"You absolutely were."

Logan ignored him—because the truth was, he'd known almost immediately. The second you said it, the second he'd seen that look in your eyes—the one you got whenever you were trying not to laugh, he knew.

But that wasn't the point, it was never going to be. Because whether there had been a date or not, now there was. If his girlfriend wanted to spend a entire day together, Logan wasn't going to complain.

Garrett groaned. "Oh, my God."

"What?

"You're so disgustingly in love with her."

Logan considered arguing but instead, he just smiled. "Yeah, man. I am."

For once, Garrett didn't make fun of him for it.

By the time Logan picked you up the next evening, you were beginning to regret everything.

Not because the prank wasn't funny—it was downright hilarious. Or at least, it had been, right until a gorgeous bouquet of pink lillies had appeared on your bedside table with a note in Logan's handwriting.

Fuck, you loved them. They were your favorite flower.

The note read, Pick you up at 8. Wear the blue dress.

Now, standing in front of your mirror, smoothing down the skirt of the blue dress you loved so much, you were beginning to suspect that somewhere along the way, things had gotten out of hand.

A knock sounded from the other side of the door, making your stomach flutter. It was ridiculous—you'd been dating Logan for three years, and yet, as you opened the door, you immediately forgot every coherent thought you'd ever had.

Logan stood in the hallway, hands shoved into the pockets of dark jeans, navy button-down rolled up to his elbows. His dark hair was falling across his forehead, his brown eyes softening the second they found you— like they always did. Every. Single. Time.

No matter how many years passed, they always softened. "Hi, babe."

A smile spread across your face automatically. "Hi."

For a second, neither of you moved. Then, Logan's gaze landed on the vase of flowers sitting on your bedside table. "You got the flowers I sent you?"

Your heart squeezed. "They're beautiful, Logan."

"I know."

You blinked, and Logan immediately cringed. "Oh, fuck. That sounded terrible.""

A laugh escaped you. "It really did."

He groaned. "I meant you're beautiful."

Your laugh grew louder, and Logan pressed his forehead against the doorframe, hiding his face and the shy, pink flush that was creeping up his cheeks. "I somehow made it worse."

"You absolutely did."

His answering grin was sheepish, beautiful. You slipped your hand into his, softly closing the door behind you. "Ready?"

Logan squeezed your fingers. "Always."

The date was perfect.

Not because of where he took you— though the restaurant was lovely. The bookstore afterward was also lovely. And the bakery where he insisted on buying three different desserts "for research purposes" was lovely.

Not because of any of it. The date was perfect because every stop felt intentional, like Logan had built the entire evening out of tiny pieces of you.

At dinner, he'd ordered an appetizer while you ducked into the restroom right after the two of you arrived, because he knew you always got hungry while looking at menus. At the bookstore, he somehow remembered the title of a novel you'd mentioned wanting to read six months ago. At the bakery, he'd walked directly to your favorite cheesecake without even glancing at the display.

By the time the two of you found yourselves walking along the Charles River, the city lights glittering across the water, you were fairly certain you'd accidentally created the best date of your life.

The realization was mildly infuriating.

Logan glanced at you. "What?"

"What do you mean, what?" you frowned.

"You've got your thinking face on."

You rolled your eyes. "I do not."

Logan laughed, the sound settling warmly in your chest. For a while, neither of you spoke. The night air was cool, your hand fit perfectly in his. The city hummed around you—comfortable, easy.

Eventually Logan guided you toward a quiet bench overlooking the water. You sat down beside him, your shoulder brushing his. You could smell his cologne, could feel your heart beginning to stutter like it always did around him.

"You know," you said, carefully. "I had a really good time tonight."

Logan smiled. "I'm glad, babe. I did too."

You sighed, because you could feel the guilt winning. "I have to tell you something."

Immediately, Logan looked concerned. Your stomach twisted at the look on his face. God, he was too nice. "I kinda feel bad."

His eyebrows lifted. "About?"

You looked away, suddenly fascinated by the water. "The date thing."

"What about it?"

"Okay," you sucked in a deep breath. "I made it up. There wasn't actually a date."

The silence stretched out between the two of you—unbearable, suffocating, until you couldn't take it anymore. A groan escaped your lips. "Oh, my God, please stop looking at me like that."

Logan laughed. You froze, because it wasn't a surprised laugh, or even a confused one. No, he sounded... amused?

Slowly, you turned toward him, meeting his eyes. He was smiling.

Your eyes narrowed. "John Logan."

His grin widened. "Yeah, babe?"

"Oh, fuck off." The pieces clicked together all at once—the confidence, the calmness, the complete lack of panic. Your jaw slacked. "You knew."

Logan laughed. "I knew."

You stared at him, horrified, offended and impressed. Mostly offended. "When did you know?"

"The moment you said it."

Your mouth fully fell open this time. "You fucking liar."

Logan's shoulders shook with laughter. "You were picking out dresses, way too excited."

"I was acting," you gasped.

"Babe, come on." The words carried approximately zero belief.

You slapped his arm, and Logan caught your wrist immediately, still laughing. "You are unbelievable. You let me think I was winning!"

His grin softened. "You looked so excited." The words came out quietly, simply, like they explained everything.

And maybe, they did.

Logan continued, like it was obvious, like anyone else would've done the same thing. "You were excited, and I like taking you on dates."

You chest tightened. "So you planned all of this?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

The answer left his lips immediately, without hesitation, without uncertainty. "Because I love you."

The words settled softly between the two of you, warm and certain.

You groaned. "Fuck off, Logan. You can't be cute when I'm being mean and trying to prank you."

Logan chuckled, leaning forward, his forehead brushing yours. "You're not mean. You're perfect. And, you're so, so impressed by the fact that I pulled this off."

"I'm not," you scoffed, but you both knew you were lying.

His grin widened knowingly. You hated it—and you hated it even more when he kissed you, slow and sweet, smiling against your mouth, his hands tangling in your hair.

When he finally pulled away, your heart was somewhere around your ankles. "You know what?"

"What?"

You jammed a finger in his chest. "This still counts as me pranking you."

Logan laughed so hard he nearly fell off the bench—and somehow, that felt like victory enough.

“Hi,” you greeted him, unable to contain the grin that spread across your face.

“Hey,” he replied. “You look great.”

“Thanks, so do you.” You stepped back, opening the door wider for him to enter the house instead of just standing on the front porch. “I rushed down and forgot my bag, but I’ll be right back,” you explained, shutting the door behind him.

“Take your time, I can wait.” You gave him another smile before turning and hurrying up the stairs. You almost rammed your shoulder into your doorway, but managed to dodge it just in time. You grabbed your bag of choice that was already packed with all the essentials you might need, spritzed yourself with your favourite perfume, and shoved your feet into your shoes. You stopped momentarily to check your hair and makeup in your vanity mirror. You fluffed your hair and gritted your teeth to check for any lipstick residue before standing up straight and forcing yourself to take three deep breaths.

It’s just coffee, you told yourself, feeling your shoulders relax. It might not even count as a date.

Neither you or John had outwardly labelled it as a date, which you found somewhat reassuring. A date was a lot of pressure. Just getting coffee was easy.

You opened your eyes, meeting them in the mirror and let your natural smile appear on your features. Despite having just fluffed your hair, you tucked it behind your ears, nervously fixing it down over your shoulders. 

You could do this.

You didn’t even know why you were so nervous. Even if it was a date, it wasn’t the first one you’d ever been on. You had gone on a handful in your previous two years at Briar, with only two ever leading to a second date. Neither of which led past a fourth date. Which you were fine with. Those guys hadn’t been the ones for you. Sure, they’d been nice to look at across a candlelit dinner or on the mini golf course, but none of them had been especially interesting. None of them had really had anything to offer personality wise. You couldn’t land a single joke or even a teasing quip without feeling as if you had hurt their feelings, or even without being lectured on why your joke hadn’t landed. 

Meanwhile, John had laughed at all your jokes and taken your teasing in stride, even firing some of his own back. It was fun being around him, easy.

You wanted to be around him. 

The week and a half since you two had last seen each other in person would have passed by so much slower had you two not been texting practically nonstop. He had been busy with hockey and work, while you had been occupied with school and work, yet somehow you two had managed to arrange a day and time that worked for both of you all on the same day that he had asked if you would be willing to go for coffee with him. Your fingers had never flown across a keyboard as fast as when you’d read that text from him. Since then there was rarely a time where you weren’t texting John or thinking about your last text exchange with him. You were hopelessly crushing, but too scared to admit it.

Too scared to even admit that you were currently about to go on a first date with him because that would make it real.

As you reached the middle of the staircase you were horrified to find your roommates in the entryway talking to John. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, stepping onto the staircase’s landing. The three of them had all turned to look at you, John with an almost mesmerized look in his eyes, which your friends immediately noticed, exchanging a look between the two of them.

“Oh, we were just getting to know John here,” your roommate said with a smirk. 

“Were you now?” You glanced nervously between them all, your roommates grins doing nothing to help you out.

“Nothing bad. We were just asking about his intentions with you, his political views, thoughts on women’s rights, thoughts on hockey culture- y’know all the normal stuff.” 

“Oh yeah just the stuff that comes up in everyday conversation,” you deadpanned, the teasing from your roommates actually helping to calm your nerves. “You ready?” You fully faced John, meeting him face to face. He had a small smile on his face, which your roommates would later tell you had never left his face in the entire time that he had been in your presence.

“So long as you are,” he replied. You nodded and began to reach for the door handle, but he beat you to it, opening the door so you could walk through first. “It was really nice meeting you guys,” he said to your roommates who were waving flirtatiously at you when you turned back to watch the exchange.

“You too, John boy!”

“Hands to yourself!” You could feel the blood in your cheeks as he latched the door shut behind you, matching your steps down your porch steps.

“I would say I’m sorry about them, but I’m really not,” you said as you walked down the short path to his truck which was parked exactly where it had been two and a half weeks ago when he’d originally come to take a look at your car.

“No, they’re awesome, I love that,” John replied. “I can tell you’re really comfortable with them.”

“Yeah, they’re my best friends in the world, they’re the best.”

“That’s great.” You two exchanged smiles, before John took a few steps ahead of you to get to the passenger side door first to open it for you. You thanked him as you climbed in and once you were settled he closed the door behind you. As you turned to pull your seatbelt over you, you caught your roommates watching you from the front living room window. You shook your head at them in mock disappointment as they only laughed and waved their phones to let you know that they had been recording and taking pictures since you two had left the front door. You looked away as John pulled his door open and climbed into his seat.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good,” he said, clicking his seatbelt into place and handing his phone out to you. “Do you want aux?” You gasped at the chance to see what his music taste was and excitedly took his phone, feeling a spark as your fingers lightly brushed. His phone was already unlocked and open to Spotify, allowing you to easily navigate to his playlists and saved albums. He watched you with a small smile for a few moments before putting the truck in drive and pulling onto the street, but not before leaning forward and giving your roommates a wave through the window. You looked up at this exchange and laughed at your friends' reactions in the window.

Going back to his phone, you scanned the names of playlists and album covers. Most of the playlists seemed to be workout and hype mixes, leaving you to wonder how many of these playlists one person could need before you remembered your five different studying playlists for your different moods. Most of the albums were rap and hip hop and artists you didn’t listen to or had never even heard of. You found one playlist titled ‘Jules’ influence’ which was filled with a random mix of songs from indie artists, some of which you had heard of.

“So, is it horrible?” John asked, causing you to look up from his phone and at him. You must’ve looked confused because he followed up. “My music taste. Jules always says I need to work on it.”

“It could be worse,” you replied, teasingly. “Could also be a lot better, though.” John laughed, a warm feeling developing in your chest at the sound. You continued to scroll, feeling as if you might find a hidden gem in the depths of his Spotify account. And you did when you found a playlist of Bruno Mars’ entire discography.

“I knew there had to be something redeeming in here,” you said before pressing shuffle play. You sighed as Locked out of Heaven began playing through the speakers. John looked over at you with an amused smile as you nodded your head to the beat.

“Big Bruno Mars fan?” John asked.

“Says the one with a whole playlist of just his music,” you teased. “This is my favourite song of his though.” John leaned forward and turned the volume up a few notches, causing you to grin at him.

About fifteen minutes later you rolled into town, lucky enough to find a parking spot right in front of the coffee shop that your roommate had recommended you guys check out. Before you even had your seatbelt undone, John had undone his and rushed around the truck to get your door for you, a gesture you giggled at and thanked him for.

The ease of finding a parking spot turned out to be completely out of luck because when John had opened the cafe door for you, you found the small space to be almost completely packed, with the line ending only two feet away from the door. Once the line had crept slightly forward, John was able to fully join you in the line, your back pressed almost completely to his front, catching you off guard at the proximity.

“Do you know what you’re getting?” His lips practically brushed your ear as he leaned down so you could hear him, the blood rushing to your cheeks once again. You shook your head no, unable to even spot a glimpse of the menu. A few moments later, John’s phone appeared in front of you, displaying a picture of the menu. You looked back at him over your shoulder, a grateful smile on your lips for the gesture. You did your best to focus on what the menu listed instead of the fact that he was so close you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. It was either him or the sheer warmth of being in the cramped coffee shop.

“Can I get a small iced caramel mocha, please?” you asked the barista once it was your turn to order almost twenty minutes later. After you had decided on your orders, you and John had made up a game of deciding the personalities and lifestyles of the other patrons in the shop as a way to pass the time. While they had originally started off as plausible possibilities they became more humorous and outlandish as your wait grew.

“And can I get a small iced cinnamon mocha, please?” John ordered after you. He beat you again by having his card ready before you could even unzip your bag to find yours. After the barista confirmed your orders you fixed John with an annoyed look which he met with a smile. 

That damn smile of his.

“Y’know I am capable of doing things myself, right?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, but I’m here. So why should you?” You could only shake your head, trying to hide your growing smile. After another few minutes of designating the customers around you with fake backstories your drinks were ready. You both thanked the barista before turning and scanning the shop. Noticing that there were absolutely zero free chairs and tables you agreed to head outside.

“I can finally breathe again,” you sighed as you stepped back into the fresh air, John holding the door open for you.

“You ready to give these a try?” John asked, gesturing to the drinks you both held.

“Let’s do it.” At the same time you both took sips of your respective drinks. Yours was not good. But, seeing as John had paid for it, and not wanting to come off as too picky, you tried to mask your disgust with a pleased expression. “Hmm.”

“How is it?” John asked, studying the drink in his hand.

“It’s…decent.”

“Really? ‘Cause mine’s disgusting.” You almost choke on your sip at John’s reaction, a laugh trying to fight its way out of you.

“I was trying to be nice!” you groaned. “But yeah, this is awful.” You both can’t help the laughs that escape you at the ridiculousness of having just waited half an hour for those horrible drinks.

“Here,” John says, gesturing for you to hand him your cup. “I think I know how I can make these better.” You hand your plastic cup over and watch as he walks a few steps away and proceeds to throw both practically full cups in the garbage can. “I hate wasting food, but there’s no way either of us are drinking those anymore.”

“Completely understandable in this case.” He walked back over to you, stopping a couple steps away with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets.

“So, I know I asked you to go for coffee, but seeing as that didn’t go the best, did you wanna take a walk around town instead?”

“I’d love to.” The two of you fell into step beside each other, John taking the side closest to the street, which you’re sure to remember to tell your friends about later on.

“How’s your car been the past couple weeks?” He asked.

“Really good!” you replied. “No smoke, no noises that shouldn’t be there. She’s back and better than ever.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“How’s hockey been?”

“Good. We’ve won our last couple games, which is always nice.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you laugh. “You been scoring a lot?”

“Not as much as I want.”

“It’ll happen. Watch you’ll start a hot streak next game, I can feel it.” John laughed, his chest warm at the faith you had in him.

“We gotta get you out to a game. Maybe you’ll be my lucky charm.” You felt your cheeks warm at the implication that you could be good for his game, knowing how seriously hockey players took their superstitions.

“If it keeps the Hawks winning then sign me up,” you joked before stopping mid-step. “Have you ever been in there?” you asked. John came to a halt and turned to look at the thrift shop you were pointing to.

“Can’t say I have.”

“They have the coolest stuff all the time. It’s the best thrift I’ve ever been to.” You had no intention of actually going in and just wanted to share the remark, but John noticed the gleam in your eyes and suggested going in. “We don’t have to, I was just saying.”

“No, no, you said they have the coolest stuff, so I wanna see,” John teased you with a smirk. You could feel the challenge in the air between you two and decided to take him on.

“Alright. Follow me.”

John got the door for you once again and you couldn’t help the smile on your face that came from the gesture and being back in one of your favourite stores. The shop was small, practically a hole in the wall, and was stuffed wall-to-wall with racks of clothes and tables of trinkets. The familiar smell was comforting as you took a deep breath.

“This place smells like my grandma’s house,” John remarked behind you.

“That’s the best part!” you exclaimed. “Come on, I’ll show you my favourite part of the shop.” You took off down the main aisle of the place, headed towards the back. You turned down an aisle that was crammed full of colourful knitted blankets, following it all the way down to a shelf against the wall. The shelf itself was slanted, appearing as if it could collapse at any moment, with the amount of things stuffed onto it only adding to this appearance. You grinned as you reached it, turning to John and framing the shelf with jazz hands. 

“Wow, it’s…a shelf.”

You fixed him with an exasperated look, which quickly reverted back to a grin. “It’s not just a shelf, it’s a wonderland of trinkets and accessories.”

“I’m sure it is.” John reached towards the shelf and plucked a tiny figurine of a cow wearing a party hat from it. He inspected it for no more than five seconds before looking at you with a quirked brow. It took a lot of your willpower to not kiss him right there and then.

“You’re telling me that’s not adorable?”

“No, no, it is. I’m thinking you might’ve hyped it up a bit too much though.” He placed the figurine gently back in its spot and looked back at you.

“Well, you haven’t seen much just yet.”

You spent the next half an hour showing John around the store, ten of those minutes being completely spent on the trinket shelf, trying to convince him to purchase something from it, deciding on the party cow. When he finally agreed, he insisted on finding you your own shelf trinket to purchase. Eventually, he found a matching cow figurine to his, this one with a green party hat instead of pink. He clutched the both of them in his hand while you moved your tour along to a different part of the shop.

You showed him the graphic t-shirt racks, many of which he agreed were very cool and was the section he took the most interest in. His second favourite was the table near the front of the store that held many different accessories, including hats, scarves, gloves, and bags. Upon arriving at the table, John spotted a fluffy frog hat, which he placed carefully over his hair, causing you to laugh uncontrollably.

“Wait! Stay there, I need a picture,” you managed to get out through your laughs, pulling out your phone to take said picture. At first he faked an annoyed look before a smile broke out on his lips, causing your laughing to begin once again. Once you got the picture, John took the hat off his head and placed it gently on top of yours.

“Now hang on,” he instructed, pulling out his own phone to snap a picture. You gave him a variety of facial expressions and poses, turning the simple photo into a photoshoot of sorts. John only smiled through them all, enjoying the sight in front of him. Once you deemed he had gotten enough pictures of you in the frog hat, the two of you made it your mission to find the silliest item for the other person to wear or hold up for a picture. The game quickly turned competitive.

You found John a pair of extremely short gym shorts that resembled early 2000s velour tracksuits.

He found you a silk robe covered in a dollar sign print.

You found a pair of pink leopard cowboy boots.

He found a sweater that seemed to list the dates of a singular person’s six different wedding ceremonies.

You found a mug that read ‘Honey, I’m sorry for sleeping with your great-aunt. Please take me back!”

He found a blanket that had Danny Devito’s face printed all over it.

After almost an hour of this game, you decided to continue on with the day. John quickly paid for both of the cow figurines before you both headed outside.

“Pink or green?” He asked, holding a figurine in each palm.

“Green, please.” You plucked the figurine from his outreached hand, but not before snapping a picture of him holding the both of them. “Aw, they’re like our little children.” You internally cringed, horrified that you had just implied that these practically microscopic cows were your shared children. This wasn’t even a date and you had basically said that you were already thinking about having kids. 

You might as well have just walked into traffic right then and there.

However, if John had thought your remark was weird, he didn’t say so and simply pulled out his phone.

“Let’s take a family picture then.” He held his phone out wide in front of the both of you. You shook yourself out of your self critical fog and turned your body in towards him, proudly displaying your new trinket in the palm of your hand. The sides of yours and John’s hands brushed as you both posed, your internal dialogue turning from self deprecating to a mess of giggling and blushing. “So, where to next?”

You glanced around the streets, scanning for anything interesting that there might be to do.

“We could just keep walking? See if we come across anything worthwhile.”

“Sounds great,” John agreed, falling into step beside you once again. You were in the middle of discussing the items you had found in the thrift store when John stopped, gesturing to the store you’d wound up in front of. “Hey, isn’t this where you work?”

You glanced up at the sign, realizing that you had, in fact, walked right in front of the bookstore that you’d worked at since your freshmen year at Briar. “Oh yeah, it is.”

“Do you wanna go in?”

“What? Oh no. We don’t have to. I’m there all the time already, they’re sick of me.”

“Yeah, but you probably don’t really get the chance to look around all that much, right?” 

“Right…” you hesitated, not wanting to make the day all about you. But he did have a point.

“Alright, then let’s go in.” He grabbed the door handle and as soon as he swung it open the smell of hundreds of books, most of which were used, envelopped you in a warm hug. You sighed, taking in the beautiful sight of stacks and stacks and tables of books waiting for you to explore them; despite you being the one who most likely shelved at least a third of them. While you and your roommates had the house that you loved, this shop truly was your home away from home. Despite spending a good chunk of your time here every week, you would’ve been content with having to move in full-time. 

“Welcome in!” a voice called from the register to the left of you. Your boss, Lucinda, sat at her usual perch behind the front desk with her usual grin.

“Hi, Lucy,” you greeted her, feeling shy all of a sudden as John stepped in behind you.

“You’re not working today, dear, what brings you in?”

“Uh, my friend, John, suggested we come in just to look around.” Lucy didn’t miss the slight twitch in John’s smile at you calling him a friend, something you missed due to him standing behind you.

“Hi, I’m John,” he introduced himself, sticking out his hand for Lucinda to shake, which she gladly did with a laugh.

“Lucinda,” the bookstore owner greeted back. “Well, you two enjoy yourselves, and if you need anything, I’ll be right here. Though, of course, you already know where everything is, dear.”

“Thanks, Lucy.” You turned to face John who gestured for you to lead the way. You’re different in the bookstore than you were in the thrift shop. While in there you were loudly confident, thrilled to be showing John around, in here you were more quietly sure of yourself–wandering the shelves slowly, taking in every book spine your eyes fell upon. While this was your place of work, it was also your solitude. You rarely ever ventured to any of Briar’s libraries to study because you had this place and Lucinda was always willing to let you in to study for as long as you needed.

You followed the natural flow of the store’s fixtures, from the tables at the front displaying new and popular reads, to the back where the nonfiction books and magazines were held. When a book looked particularly interesting you would pick it up and read the synopsis, gauging whether it should be added to your TBR or not. Not being much of a reader himself, John followed behind you, listening as you read synopses or excitedly recounted the plot points of your favourite books when you came across them. The way your face lit up upon finding an old favourite of yours would make his heart stutter and the tips of his ears go warm. Needless to say he was in no way bored while following you around. In fact, he could’ve done it forever if you let him.

“Hey, what time is it?” you asked after placing a book back in its slot on the shelf.

“Three thirty.”

“What?” you wheeled around, your eyes practically bulging out of your head.

“Yeah, why?” John asked, slightly amused.

“We’ve been in here for an hour!”

“What’s wrong with that?” John asked through a laugh, clearly not understanding what you were so hysterical about.

“We were supposed to spend today together, not just with you following me around at my job!”

“Hey, it’s okay!” John reassured you, his hand gently squeezing your bicep as you tried hard not to completely freak out at having completely overtaken the day. “I was the one who told you we should come in here. I had a feeling what I was getting into when I did. So, it’s cool, okay?” He watched you intently as you sighed deeply, his doe-like eyes fixated on yours. You nodded, feeling calmer from his reassurance that you hadn’t completely ruined what might’ve been your first date together.

“Okay, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he gave you a smile to make sure you knew that it truly wasn’t as serious as you thought. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes and you get to pick what we do next. No more letting me control everything.”

“Well I think that’s only fair,” he deadpanned before allowing a smile to spread over his lips at your slight pout from the teasing. You said bye to Lucinda as you exited the store, the older woman telling John to come back whenever he wanted which made him laugh.

“So where to, Johnny boy?” you asked, as you continued your side-by-side walk further into town.

“You ever been to the lake just outside of town?” You shook your head, only just remembering that the lake existed. “Follow me then.” He guided you down the sidewalk, taking a few shortcuts down residential streets, before arriving at the east edge of town which overlooked the small lake that was overshadowed by tall willow trees. The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, but was yet to bring about any chill to the air. John led you down to a bench a little ways from the water, dusting the seat off with his jacket sleeve. He gestured for you to sit, which you did, taking a seat beside him, less than a foot of space between you two. You both sat facing towards the water, the wind on the surface of the water and in the tree branches and the wildlife being the only sounds to break the silence.

“Do you come here a lot?”

“Every once in a while,” John replied, looking out over the water. “When we were younger my mom would bring me and my siblings here if it was nice out.”

“Are you close with your mom?” Something shifted in the guy’s face at the mention of his mom. Not darkness, but something haunting.

“Not really. She’s been in and out of rehab so much that I never really know where or how I’ll find her.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s no one’s fault. It’s just how her brain works.” He said it so casually that you almost believed that he believed it himself. And even though you’ve only known the guy for less than a month, you had a feeling that he wasn’t being the most honest. “Or at least that’s what all the doctors have told us.” 

“That’s still hard, though. Especially with having to help take care of Jules.” He turned to look at you then, his eyes scanning your face.

“Did I tell you that?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “When you picked me up from class after you fixed my car.” John then groaned, his hands coming to cover his face.

“Some first impression I made then, huh?” You laughed, folding one leg in on the bench so you could turn your body to face him.

“Well, I think that was actually your second impression. Unless you count all the texting from that week and how you repeatedly accused me of being a Rangers fan!”

“Hey, I’ve apologized since, haven’t I?” He asked, now turning his body to face you.

“Yeah, I guess today counts as an apology,” you responded in a quieter tone than before. His eyes roamed your face and you somehow failed to notice how they lingered on your lips for a second longer than anywhere else.

“Do you have a favourite spot you go to? On or off campus?”

“We were just at my favourite spot,” you responded, referring to the bookstore.

“Huh, explains why you took so long.” You reached forward and shoved John’s shoulder jokingly. He groaned in fake pain, clutching his shoulder as you laughed.

“Hey, I apologized! I genuinely thought it had only been like twenty minutes.”

“Nah, I’m just kidding,” he said, sitting up properly again, a small smile on his face. “It was fun seeing you in your element. I just didn’t think anyone could spend that long looking at books without getting bored.”

“Well, what was one of the first things you learned about me?”

“That you’re an English major.”

“Right on, Johnny.” He looked down at his hands with a smile, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.

“What do you plan on doing with that after you graduate?” he asked.

“Grad school,” you sighed, a common reaction you had whenever the thought of your future came about. “Maybe a PhD to see how long I can fend off the work force, then hopefully teach at the college level.”

“Got it all figured out, huh?”

“For the most part. Hopefully.”

“Are your parents supportive?”

“Oh, they’re the best,” you smiled at the thought of your parents. How they had constantly pushed you to do what you wanted to do, not what anyone else thought was best. Your heart clenched at not having seen them in what felt like forever. “They just want me to be whoever I want.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you have that,” John said, sounding genuinely happy that you had that support system.

“Thanks. I’m just so scared of disappointing them, y’know? They’ve worked so hard my whole life and it’s like…what if I end up not being worth all that trouble?” You caught yourself off guard by admitting this. You had never really voiced these concerns out loud, but for some reason when you were around John the words just fell right out.

“Hey, if they really love you and care for you then it won’t matter what you do in the future,” he said, earnestly. His eyes bore into yours, almost as if he was trying to push the thought into your head. “You’ll still be their daughter. And for what it’s worth, I know you’re gonna do something great with your life. I don’t think you’d allow yourself to do or be anything less than great.” You laughed, your heart clenching at his words and how genuine they sounded coming from him. Any regrets you’d had about voicing your concerns had flown right out the window.

“Thanks for saying that.” He nodded his head, a small smile on his lips. “What about you? What are you gonna do with your business degree, Johnny?”

“Who even knows,” he groaned, eliciting a small laugh from you. “It’s, hopefully, just a backup.”

“For?”

“If I don’t make it to the NHL.”

“You have doubts that you will?” you asked, genuinely confused. 

“You say that like you’ve seen me play.”

“I’ve seen a clip or two,” you shrugged. “Mostly from Jules’ account.”

“I just really want to prove myself. But that’s hard when you play on a line with Phil Graham’s son.” There was a small hint of irritation in his voice, which you could understand. You knew that Garrett Graham was John’s best friend, but also, possibly, his biggest competition for a chance at getting to the NHL. Garrett had already been drafted to the Boston Bruins, but that only meant that there were now even more eyes on him and less on John.

“Hey, you’re your own person. You don’t have to exist or live in anyone else’s shadow other than your own,” you tried to reassure him like he had done for you. “And the NHL? Easy. You’ll be playing for the Oilers as soon as you graduate,” you ended, cheekily.

“Is that a threat?”

“You could play for a lot worse teams than Edmonton.”

“Ugh, like Vegas.” You both cringed which led to laughter from the both of you. 

“Have you ever told anyone that stuff?” you asked after your laughter had lapsed into silence for a few moments. “About making it to the show?” John whistled at your choice of words.

“Damn, you’re talking like one of the guys calling it the show," he laughed. "I’ve really only talked about it with Jules. You’re the only other person I’ve told.” Blood flows to your cheeks again, either from the chill that had begun to waft off the water, or from being one of the only people that knew about John’s secret feelings.

“Not even Garrett?” John sighed and shook his head.

“It’s hard when he’s already been drafted and I’m stuck waiting for a chance.” You mulled his words over in your mind.

“Do you believe in things being meant to be?” John hesitated, seeming to now mull your words over. You didn’t notice how his eyes lingered on you as he thought of the words to say.

“I might.”

“Well, think of getting picked as being meant to be. Maybe it just hasn’t been the right time or the right team. If it’s meant to be it’ll happen when it’s supposed to. Not before.” You met his eyes then, which had already been trained on your face. A moment passed where it felt like only the two of you existed, purely understanding each other, with nothing else around.

“All that Shakespeare’s made you wise, English major,” John broke the silence with a smile.

“And looking at spreadsheets all day has made you lose perspective, business major,” you joked back.

“I gotta keep you around then. Make sure I don’t lose sight of it all.” The way John looked at you then made your breath catch in your throat. Your mind seemed to go blank, other than being filled with how he was looking at you right then and how it made you feel. Maybe this was a date.

“Keep playing your cards right and we’ll see, Johnny,” you scoffed, forcing yourself to look away and back at the water, hoping he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

“”Keep,” huh? So I’ve been doing good so far.”

“Well saving me money goes a long way in my book if that feeds your ego.”

“Duly noted.” You looked back at him with a smile. One that he wished he could’ve taken a mental picture of so he’d never forget it.

“Oh, look at the sunset!” You exclaimed, pointing out over the lake where the autumn sky had begun to show streaks of purple, pink, and orange, a reflection of which showing on the surface of the water. John noticed how the bright colours highlighted your hair and formed almost a halo around you. While your back was turned he pulled out his phone and snapped a couple pictures of you, wanting to keep these for memory. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yeah, it is.” John remarked, his eyes focused on you instead of the sky.

Once the sun had fallen behind the trees lining the lake, John had asked if you wanted to go back to the truck before it got too cold. You agreed, taking the hand he offered to help you up off the bench. After brushing yourself off, you looked up at John to find him looking at you with a smile on his face. You returned it before quickly turning and yelling “race ya!” and taking off back towards the direction you’d come from.

John gave out a startled yell before you heard his feet pounding on the ground behind you. You laughed as your heart beat wildly in your chest, your breath coming out in fast pants as you continued to outpace the hockey player. Despite not knowing the neighbourhood the best, you managed to find your way back to the main road in town and pushed yourself the final yards to John’s truck in front of the coffee shop which you had left what felt like ages ago. 

You raised your arms in victory, turning to face the athlete as he came to a stop behind you, panting. You let out a cheer as he hunched over his knees, gulping in breaths of air.

“How the fuck did you get so fast?” John panted out, causing you to laugh.

“I did track and field in high school,” you explained, your hands on your hips as you took in deep breaths. “And I sometimes run the track at Briar.”

“What the fuck. I might pass out.” You laughed at the poor guy’s state, having to stop yourself from tousling his hair as he remained hunched over.

“What, that wasn’t just like a shift on the ice for you?”

“No, that was so much worse.” You couldn’t help the grin that was on your face as he stood up, the flip of his hair making your heart stutter for a second. His cheeks were red from the exertion and the wind hitting him in the face while he ran. Your eyes went from his to how his silver chain fell against his heaving chest and back to his eyes. “That was cruel.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you could handle it, hockey player,” you teased. He looked at you with what might've been supposed to be stern eyes, but they softened as soon as they actually fell on you and the large grin you couldn’t wipe away.

“Next time, it won’t be so easy for you,” he declared, a finger in the air to emphasize his point.

"So I can expect to see you on the track tomorrow morning?”

“Not tomorrow,” he gulped out. “But whenever my legs and lungs recover, then yeah.” You giggled, finding the whole scenario especially funny. “Are you hungry?”

“All that running make you hungry?”

“If anything, my guts are actually inside out right now- thanks again. But we haven’t had anything to eat or drink since we tried that god awful coffee,” he explained, jutting his thumb towards the coffee shop behind you.

“I could eat,” you agreed, slightly cringing at the memory of the coffee from hours ago.

“Good, ‘cause I know a place.”

A two minute walk down Main street later and you wound up in front of a place advertising one dollar pizza slices, to which you scrunched your nose.

“This is the best pizza place within a one hundred mile radius,” John proudly announced.

“A dollar per slice? Is this some kind of payback for making you run?”

“While I will absolutely be getting back at you at some point," John declared, "their customers are college kids and they know how to cater to that.” The thought of how badly this could end for you crossed your mind, but you decided to be adventurous and shrugged.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

John swung the door open for you to enter and your stomach immediately gurgled at the smell of fresh pizza cooking. When you got to the register you ordered two slices of pepperoni and a Sprite and John ordered two slices of meat lovers and a Dr Pepper. He beat you to the machine once again, giving you a huge smile as you frowned at him. Your food was ready minutes later and John let you decide which booth to sit at. You picked the one closest to the window and John started to slide into the seat across from you when you asked him to sit beside you instead.

“I hate when people watch me eat,” you confessed, a blush covering your cheeks. 

“No problem,” he responded unfazed, sliding in beside you with ease. Your arms brushed as you reached for your food at the same time, your breath catching slightly at the spark between you two as it happened. You took a bite out of your first slice and automatically understood what John had been talking about when he called it the best pizza place in the area. You scarfed down your first slice, not realizing just how hungry you had actually been.

“Was I right?” John asked when you were halfway through your second slice, already finished both of his. You pretended to think about it, not wanting to let him know just how right he’d been.

“You may have had some good points,” you said, your hand covering your mouth as you spoke. He let out a ‘yes’ while pumping his fist, causing you to laugh. He finished up his drink as you finished your pizza. Once you were both for sure done, he took both of your paper plates and threw them out. You stood as he did so, brushing any crumbs off yourself while his back was turned.

“Ready to go?” he asked. You nodded your head, allowing him to open the door for you again out into the cool October air. 

He opened the passenger side door for you once back at the truck and closed it once you were securely in. He handed his phone over to you wordlessly, allowing you to choose the music once again for the drive back to your place. ‘Locked out of Heaven’ by Bruno Mars played as he pulled away from the curb.

“Thank you for today, I had a really good time,” you said after John parked in front of your house.

“Yeah, of course, I did too.”

“And I’m sorry, again, for spending an hour in the bookstore, that was really sweet of you to just let me look. I really never get to do that," you said sheepishly.

“Well, you’ll just have to make it up to me by spending an hour at the rink or the garage with me.” You laughed, not even thinking that that sounded all that bad. You figured now was your chance to ask what you had been wondering since he had originally asked you to hang out.

“I hope this doesn’t make this awkward, but, was today a date?” John’s face was solemn, scaring you into thinking that you had offended him in some way.

“I thought it was, yeah. But if you didn’t think so-”

“No, no, it’s not that!” you blurted out before he could finish. “I was hoping it was and just didn’t want to call it one in case I accidentally got my hopes up.” John gave a small smile at your confession.

“And, was it everything you wanted it to be?” he asked almost shyly.

“Even more so.” His smile grew then, causing your own to grow.

“Well, then we’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“I’d like that,” you agreed, already eager for what the next date would entail. “I should probably get inside though. Don’t want you up too late the night before practice.”

“Especially not after I was forced to run a marathon,” John joked, before quickly climbing out his door and running around to open yours for you. You thanked him again as he helped you down and onto the sidewalk, your hands lingering together for a couple seconds. “Speaking of hockey, actually, would you want to come to our next home game? It’s in a few days and you can bring your friends. I can get you guys free tickets.”

“I’d love to, thanks.” You reached the front porch before you knew it, climbing the steps and turning to face John. “And thank you again for today. I had a lot of fun with you.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I really like spending time with you too.” He then leaned in, your breath catching in your throat as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his cologne engulfing your senses. He pulled away slightly, only to whisper in your ear: “I would’ve kissed you properly if your friends weren’t watching from the window.” He then pulled away, standing at his proper height, with a matching grin to yours. You laughed, not even feeling as if the moment had been ruined, but like everything was falling into place. Like it was all meant to be.

“I should probably go and tell them everything they wanna hear,” you said, not actually wanting the night to end. He nodded, leaning in once again to kiss your other cheek.

“Didn’t want to leave the other cheek lonely,” he said with a grin before turning to head down the porch steps.

“Cheeseball,” you called after him. He turned back to face you still beaming. You watched him walk back to his truck with a matching smile on your face, not yet realizing just how much your face hurt from all the smiling and laughing you had been doing since he’d picked you up. You opened the front door, waving to John as he started up his truck and waved back at you. You closed the door behind you, waiting until you heard his truck roll away and for a few moments afterwards before walking the few steps to the living room doorway to find your friends waiting with their hands in their laps and huge smiles on their faces.

“So what do you want to know?

~~~

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