“Wait,” your friend calls out to you, turning you around to pat down your flyaway hairs. “There, girl,” she prods your cheek, “you look cute.”

You playfully nudge her away, “yeah, because I’m wearing your clothes, Ning. Let’s go,” you reply as the attendant comes back to guide you to your seats.

You walk through the restaurant floor, arm in arm with Ningning, glancing curiously around the room and at what food people ordered to their tables.

“Here,” the attendant’s gesture breaks your focus. “Today’s house dish is our Tuscan Salmon, let us know if you have any allergies, and I’ll be back shortly to get your drinks order.” They bow and leave you two to settle into your table.

As you lower into your seat, both you and Ningning fail to notice lingering stares on you from the table next to yours. “I’m so starving, I could literally eat everything off this menu,” your friend thumbs through the list of dishes.

“I’m thinking I might want something spicy,” you ponder out loud, and the server delivers food to the table next to you. “That looks good, Ning,” you mutter, eyeing the bubbling pot of some kind of red saucy chicken. Ningning jumps in her seat to grasp your hand, “ok, we have to get that.”

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and leans forward slightly, “excuse me.” The boys turn, conversations frozen and food mid-chew. There are three of them, one is black-haired, one with chocolatey-brown waves and the other with light pink hair drooping into his eyes slightly. “What is that dish,” Ningning points to the pot positioned in front of the brunet.

He looks down at the dish, and then back up, “it’s the Sichuan Chili Chicken - it’s really good, you should get it.” You smile at his thumbs-up and wide-eyed expression.

“Ah, thank you,” Ningning then turns to you, “shall we get one of that and then something else to share too?”

You nod in reply and motion to another dish on the menu, “sure, this one sounds good.” Your friend seems to be in favour, and she quickly rattles off your food and drink order to the waiter.

Whilst waiting for your food to arrive, a voice cuts through as you scroll through notifications on your phone. “Have you both come here before?” The boy with pink hair shoots an easy smile at you two, lifting up his glass to sip at. “It’s our first time, we landed here yesterday night and went to the slopes earlier today,” you reply, and from the corner of your eyesight, you catch the brunet staring intensely at you. His hands pause in the air, motionless, despite the food sitting on his fork he clearly was about to eat. You catch his eye, and sheepishly, he breaks out of the trance and scoops his food into his mouth.

Smiling internally, you turn to Ningning and find her smirking at you, trying to hold back a laugh at the scene. “Oh, we might have bumped into each other today then, we were all there too,” the pink-haired boy speaks up, directing everyone’s attention. “Jaemin, nice to meet you,” he gestures to himself. “That’s Jeno,” Jaemin gestures to the black-haired boy, "and that’s Haechan”, pointing at the brunet. Ningning introduces herself, and you follow, your eyes lingering on Haechan as you do so. That Haechan. The same Haechan you had met earlier today, who had oh-so-kindly helped you balance on your board. The same Haechan you had unceremoniously collapsed onto after losing said balance.

You notice Haechan's eyes narrow slightly, head tilting as he speaks, “were you the one who fell like a starfish earlier? I had to help you board down the slope, right? Thought I recognised you from the strands,” Haechan teases, pointing at the two face-framing pieces you had left out of your ‘effortless’ wispy updo.

“That was like, my first time ever snowboarding,” you roll your eyes, instantly sitting up as you notice a waiter making their way to your table with food in hand.

Haechan watches as the waiter places down food on your table, watches whilst you offer a kind smile and “thanks” to the staff. The clay pot in front of you catches his eye, and he grins to himself, meanwhile you and Ningning snap away pictures of your table spread. He doesn’t hold back from feeling proud as your eyes flit upwards after taking your first bite: “Ning, this is so good, try.”

Your eyes dart to his, catching him off-guard, “this is amazing, Haechan.” Haechan. His name rolls off your tongue easily, and Haechan’s chest tightens as he sees you enjoy the food he recommended.

You don’t speak to the neighbouring table much afterwards, giving you the space and comfort to enjoy your food peacefully and chat away with Ningning, getting each other up to speed on life’s events after months apart. You do, however, notice the boys order a couple more rounds of drinks, and they even graciously extended their order to you two. Haechan in particular recounts his earlier promise of a drink to you, “I said I’d get you one because of how sorry I was, didn’t I, what would you like?"

By the end of your meal, Jaemin, Jeno and Haechan are still there, nursing their last glasses but still evidently only slightly tipsy; Jeno is the most effected with his slower moves and permanent, calm smile. As you leave the restaurant, coat belted tight around your body against the biting wind, the three boys stand outside, facing the road. Jeno’s swaying forwards and backwards slightly to himself, and Jaemin huffs the air, watching as clouds form from the cold.

Haechan notices you two first, “oh, hey...I’m ordering a taxi, where are you guys headed? We’re at the Marriott.” You and Ningning share a look.

“We’re headed there too,” she smiles.

“Oh, do you wanna share an Uber, then? We can get a bigger one and all fit,” Haechan prompts, waiting for your response. You shrug, “sure."

“The only big car available is the 9 seater right now, so we’ll just have extra space.” You nod.

“So.. do you snowboard often,” you ask Haechan, trying to make conversation as you wait the 5-or-so minutes until the taxi arrives. It was easy to assume he seemed comfortable on the slope earlier, a dismal contrast to you even refusing to glide down on your own. Haechan looks up from his phone to you, “we’ve been coming here every year for the past four years now, but Jeno’s the most experienced one, he’s been boarding since he was a kid.” You hum, and Ningning steps away to speak to Jaemin and Jeno, leaving you and Haechan alone. “I was just teasing earlier, you should’ve seen me when I was trying to get the hang of it, could barely balance without falling over,” the brunet boy smiles warmly at you, and you notice the woolly scarf tied around his neck pushes against his cheeks.

Breaking out of your stare, you exhale a laugh, “no, no, it’s true, I was hopeless. It was really fun, though, and thank God I had Paddington to help me.” You point at him.

“Paddington?"

“Yeah, you had a red helmet, a blue shell jacket, and a bright yellow board – Paddington,” you smile.

“Hah,” Haechan laughs, “I didn’t even notice."

“I bet,” you tease as he narrows his eyes at you.

“Well, I hope I don’t see you wear anything orange tomorrow to breakfast, then, Starfish.”

You roll your eyes, about to retort until you're interrupted by a car coming to a stop in front of the group. “Ride’s here,” Jaemin beckons you and Haechan as he opens the door. You two are the last to get in, Jaemin and Jeno taking up the two passenger seats next to the driver, giving you and Ningning plenty of space at the back of the car.

Sitting down promptly, you slung your bag over the back of your chair and listened eagerly. “Thank you all for coming, this is a beginners' class so please don’t worry too much! Instruction packs are on each of your desks, and I’m here to help,” the instructor watched on expectantly with a smile.

Opening your folder, the instructions seemed easy enough: you’d hopefully make something that would somewhat resemble a bunny rabbit made of fuzzy yarn. However, you failed to consider that written instructions weren’t exactly your preferred method of learning. And, your first obstacle was trying to figure out which hand to use for what action and trying to coordinate both at the same time.

With the exception of a few high school textiles classes, this was your first proper knitting foray into knitting. The knots kept unravelling, and were so uneven a nagging voice in your head pleaded you to keep starting over. Even the first, starter knot took a few tries to be comfortable and sturdy. It didn’t help that your hands were starting to slightly tremble from the unusual level of coordination and focus required. You were dropping stitches, that you only managed to notice after you had finished a row of knitting, having to start the row all over again. All this was probably making you go cross-eyed too.

The person next to you must have gotten tired of the 10th sigh that came out of your mouth: “first-time shakes?” Turning to your left, you were met with a boy with a smile as if he was holding back a laugh. Were his eyes just naturally that twinkly, was it the lighting in this room, or was he teasing you for being so awfully uncoordinated? “It’s that obvious, huh,” you winced, “I can’t seem to get a good grip on the sticks.” He could’ve laughed at you, and you think you saw his smile perk up, if that was even possible. But thankfully, him choosing to cover your embarrassing tell of inexperience was something you’d come to realise only after the class.

“Hold the needles like this,” the boy turned his wrists, brought his fingers further along the needles and knitted seamlessly. “You won’t drop as many and have to repeat."

“Thanks,” you smiled at the boy.

“No worries, I’m Jaemin.”

“You’ve done this before?” You asked - Jaemin turned a bit bashful now, shyly bending his head a little to avoid eye contact. The momentary coyness didn’t last for that long, though. “My grandma taught me when I was young, I’m just starting to get back into knitting so I’m not very good.” Despite his admission, the belly of his baby pink rabbit was starting to take shape now and you were very envious at his neat work.

“Oh, that’s really nice!” You looked up from the rabbit and met Jaemin’s eye. He held eye contact for a few beats, brows furrowed as he thought. “Can I, if it’s okay, show you?” He held out his palm. Nodding in response, you watched as he held your hands still, Jaemin twisting your knitting needles and winding your yarn himself, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours.

You jumped at the jolt shocking you from the touch. “Sorry,” Jaemin looks up to smile sheepishly at you, “must’ve been my metal needles.”

“It’s ok,” you replied. “Thank you,” to be honest, you weren’t sure what he had just done, everything was just so difficult to focus on, and it didn’t help that hand-eye coordination wasn’t coming to you strongly today. But, your confusion must’ve been thinly veiled. Jaemin boy shook his head slightly with a small laugh. “It’s your first time, don’t worry, it took me weeks to figure out how to even hold the needles properly.” His eyes twinkled in reply — maybe his eyes were just like that.

“Thank you Jaemin… Are you coming next week? I think I’ll be needing some more help after this lesson, if you wouldn’t mind?” You offered sheepishly as you heard your heartbeat in your ears, waiting for the dark-haired boy’s response. Jaemin tilted his head looking at you, brushing the hair that got into his eyes away, “give me your phone.” A sound of confusion left you involuntarily at the surprise demand, at which he sighed jubilantly, “how else would I be able to reach you again? Can’t rely on fate that much.”

Karina brushes off your thanks. “Let’s go inside, let the boys handle this,” she pointedly nods at the men. The taller one gives you a warm smile, and the shorter one agrees with a nod.

“I’m about to blow up the toilet tonig—oh!” A boisterous voice cuts through the serious resolve, and you turn to meet the eye of another man. Karina subtly tells the man to quiet, and as she walks past him—with you in tow—leans in to whisper to him. “Haechan, we’re calling the police, make sure he doesn’t run.” She pats his shoulder and drags you into the store with her.

As soon as you walk deeper into the convenience shop, Karina fishes her phone out, the police code speedily tapped in. You hear her rattle off the situation, adding in your statements as she looks to you for the responder’s questions. “We’re inside the 7-eleven on Sogong-dong, Jung District, the stalker is outside just at the block corner. They started following her from the Museum of Art.”

A few beats pass by, and Karina looks up, smiling as you make eye contact. “Ok, thank you,” Karina ends the call. “Two minutes, they said,” she says to you. “Thankfully, they’re in the area." “Let’s stay here inside whilst we wait.”

“Again, thank you, I hope I didn’t keep you from anything—were you busy?” You ask, picking up some snacks you had eyed.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you came to us and that we happened to be there outside.” “Were you visiting the museum?”

You nod, “yep, I was with a friend earlier but we got completely caught away chatting for way too long in the cafe... We just left each other like 15 minutes ago."

Karina hums, “do you live far?"

“No, I live near Dongguk University, so I thought I’d just walk it home."

“Dongguk! Jaemin lives near there,” you tilt your head at her, “Jaemin’s the taller of the three outside.” You ‘ahh’ in understanding, handing your items to the cashier to pay.

“The funniest too, but don’t tell Haechan I said that!” Karina giggles. “Are you studying? You live near campus."

“Nope, I don’t work far though! What about you, are you studying?"

“Me neither, all three of us work together, so just came out together after work before we head home,” she replies. “Oh! They’re here."

You notice two high-vis jacket-wearing men walk up to the shadowy figure, Karina’s friends looking on from close by on the other side.

The stalker, loose hood still hung over his head and mask on, pulls his hands out of his hoodie and turns to the other direction briskly. He wasn’t quick or lucky enough, however, and one of Karina’s friends, the taller one, grabs his arms together and holds him back. Finishing up bagging, you and Karina walk up to the store exit.

Through the glass, you see Jaemin hold the stalker in a safety hold, Haechan and the other friend inspecting for any risks or struggles as the two police officers rush to handcuff the suspect and formalise the arrest. Seconds later, they pat Jaemin on the back in praise and walk off, the stalker in tow dragged along.

The scene flashed by in what felt like blinks of an eye, you jump as Karina rushes outside to meet her friends. “Thank you so much,” you remark, relieved. You turn towards Jaemin, “are you ok? Did he hurt you?” Your eyes search him for any tells of pain or discomfort, but he replies with a wide, bright smile, round brown eyes glinting under the street light. “All good.”

“Are you sure?” You question, pointing back to the store. “I can quickly run and get you ice or a heat pack?”

Whilst you ask Jaemin, Karina, Haechan and Jeno speak amongst themselves. “What a creep,” Jeno mutters.

“I know, Jeno, thank God for Haechan’s unrelenting instant ramen cravings,” Karina rolls her eyes with a smile of relief as she hears Haechan’s pouting “hey!” and his foot playfully stamp on the ground.

Jaemin exhales a laugh, “heat pack for a bruise?”

“You have a bruise?” You shout out, alarmed.

“No, no! I was just saying... don’t worry, he got no hits on me,” you audibly sigh out at his reply.

“Right, we’re gonna head home now,” Karina’s voice cuts through, “Jaemin, Y/N lives near Dongguk too."

“Oh, perfect! I’ll walk you there—don’t worry, I can walk a bit in front of you if you feel safer,” Jaemin turns to you.

You shake your head, “it’s ok, I don’t mind. Plus, that’d be a bit boring, we still have, like, 10 minutes of walking,” you check the time on your phone.

Karina eyes your phone, “wait! I’ll give you my number.” She taps her number in and calls herself, “text me when you get home, ok?”

You nod. “Thank you again, seriously,” you offer to all of them, watching as they brush it off and wave wishes of getting home safely. “See you tomorrow, Jaemin,” Jeno calls out, and he offers you a kind, gentle smile as brushes his choppy brown hair out from hanging in his eyes.

You smile politely at Jaemin, “I’m Y/N. Thank you so much again, I didn’t know what to do.”

Jaemin waves away your comment, “don’t worry about it, it’s the least we could do. Creeps like that really piss me off.” Jaemin sighs.

“It’s late, I’m sorry I kept you guys,” you apologise meekly.

“Nah, I was just gonna chill at home, probably pig out in front of the TV with some ice cream I should have in the freezer."

You perk up and rummage around your carrier bag of snacks bought from the 7-Eleven, “have one!” Your hand offers out a small, wrapped stick of Magnum ice cream, “as a thank you, please."

Jaemin laughs, “ok, sure, thank you.”

He pockets your treat, “do you have any exciting plans for tomorrow?”

“Hmm not really but I’ve been meaning to go Starfield library, I’ve never been,” you will yourself to focus hard on walking in a straight line, fearing you might accidentally veer of course and bump into Jaemin.

Jaemin gasps, “you’ve never been?”

“I know, I've always wanted to go after seeing it on my Pinterest years ago, but just never had the time” you stress.

In your focus on your directionality, you fail to notice a pothole in your step, until you let out a yelp as you feel your caught foot drag you down. You’re not taken to the ground thankfully, much to your embarrassment, as an arm wraps around you to steady you and Jaemin pulls you up.

“Thank you, for saving me, again,” you hang your head in your hands.

Looking up, you see Jaemin’s wide, proud smile, “that’s what I grow these muscles for.” He jokes as he gestures to his body.

You roll your eyes, chuckling a little to yourself as you walk off.

Jaemin catches up in an instant, “I could show you around tomorrow? I’ve been there loads of times."

You tilt your head, “show me around a library?"

“Yeah... you’ve never been have you?” He questions you smugly.

“And how many times have you been, Mr Curator?"

“Like three or four times... more than you,” he comments playfully.

You laugh, “ok, sure, you can help take my pictures for me."

“Oh, you’re gonna be sooo glad you have me then, I am a great photographer,” Jaemin replies.

You shake your head, smiling. In the meantime, you’ve reached outside your apartment block, “this is me, thank you for walking me back."

“Well, we couldn’t have let you walk home alone after everything,” Jaemin quips. You notice him hesitate, not really knowing whether to leave or stay.

Jaemin wants to speak more, and ask for your number to meet up tomorrow, but wants to give you space to comfortably reject if you didn’t want to. Luckily for him, you remember and quickly hand him your phone, keypad open for him to press in his number.

Handing it back to you, he smiles, “I’ll message you when I get back home to set a time, but I can do anytime after 5, really."

“Me too,” you reply.

“You’re location’s on, right?” Jackson speaks up, “sorry, stupid question, of course it is - I’m on my way, give me like 4 minutes. Ok?”

You bite your lip, “ok, thank you,” you breathe out. Truthfully, you had forgotten your location share was even on. Jackson’s reminder takes you back to when he insisted you two always have location share on for each other, one of you had asked the other to do so because you were both away in different countries on holiday. It was a nice way to keep tabs on each other, whilst vacationing and just generally during busy day-to-day life. It’s the first time it’s ever come in handy for a situation like this, though.

“Keep me on the line, I’ll talk as I run,” Jackson’s voice cuts through. “Is the shop empty, is there anyone else there with you?”

“Yeah, a couple people browsing and some at the till.”

“Good.”

“Thank you, Jacks, I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t pick—“

“I’ll always pick up, anyways, it’s no big deal, literally, bare minimum,” his speech comes out choppily, in staccato. You can hear his feet hitting the ground as he runs, but his breathing never hitches. “Can you hold on the line for just a minute, please? I’ll be back after,” Jackson asks.

“Yeah, of course,” you nod, staring at the paint starting to chip on your nails, and the line goes quiet.

You hadn’t met a long time ago, it had only been a few months since this housewarming party a mutual friend hosted in their fancy new apartment. There, you struck up a conversation after being introduced to each other, and you and Jackson clicked so well. Whilst being from two different worlds, you had a very corporate job whilst he lived a creative’s dream as a famous musician, you loved the same things. To an extent. And the things you didn’t share in common, had somewhat of a commonality too. He wasn’t a fan of a specific genre of film you liked, but he’d happily sit down to watch your favourite movie, without complaint.

After the first meeting went so well, you two quickly set up regular hang outs. You heard he loved a dish and wanted to try out a new recipe, so he came over for dinner. He had an event coming up, therefore he needed your expert eye on what outfit suited him and the event's dress code best. Also, it wasn't too long before your flatmate's cat fell in love with him, and you'd go on cat walks to the park together—in disguise of course.

A few minutes pass of you inspecting the bottles on display, your pretence keeping you occupied as you kept tabs on the man outside. “I’m back,” Jackson’s voice cuts through the call, his tone serious and stern. “I’m walking in now.” The call drops.

The doors to the shop slide open, and you turn to see your friend striding in. He’s adorned in all-black, some loose joggers with a black zip-up, the oversized hood hung over his head. He meets your eye, and rushes over to you.

His hair hangs low, the ends slightly wet from a shower, and he pulls his mask down a little to speak to you. “Are you ok?” Jackson’s eyes search you, his hand comes up to your shoulder. You smile at the way his frown twists in concern, “I am now you’re here, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes, “don’t thank me, I said it’s the bare minimum. Besides, how could I even say no… sorry, I’m busy, ask him to stop following you? As if—” Jackson huffs. “Speaking of, that’s the guy? Following you?” He, subtly, nods pointedly at the figure outside the window. You’re both standing somewhere deeper into the shop, no one can see you from the outside in. And, Jackson made sure to slow his walking down before turning the street corner, he wasn’t about to lose the perpetrator before he could even get him caught.

You nod, “yeah, I, I noticed he had his hand in his pocket, he kept reaching into it a couple times—I don’t know, I’m probably just being paranoid—but I think he had something in there,” your fingers fidget, clasping around your phone. You watch as Jackson’s brows furrow, his hand drops from your shoulder. “We’re staying until the police come,” he says, finally.

“Police? You called them? When?”

“I put you on hold, remember. Anyways,” Jackson takes the bag in your hand from you, filled with snacks from the CVS, “do you want anything from here, it’s on me.” You walk further into the store, looking up and down the aisles together aimlessly as you waited on the police to arrive. If you ignored the shadowed creep outside, this moment felt domestic. Your bag was even slung over his shoulder. Despite your friendship only being relatively new, you felt you had known Jackson for ages. And, there were always twinklings of other things below the surface every time you met each other. Sometimes they were moments of lasting eye contact, other times, goosebumps after lingering touches or brushes of hands. You were still feeling each other out a little, though, taking it slow to build up feelings until they’d become too strong to ignore.

Jackson looks up, noticing something from the corner of his eye, “stay here for a second,” he tells you. “Don’t move.”

You nod, intrigued as you watch him walk away. He strolls out the store, and you see him walk up to some figures in uniform. Two men. Jackson talks to them, points in another direction, and the officers walk up to the shadowed figure, Jackson looking on. The stalker attempts to make a run for it, but unfortunately for him, doesn’t get too far before the officers hold him down and detain him. The scene moves so quickly, too quick for you to process and before you blink, the officers take him away and Jackson walks back into the shop and stops in front of you.

He smiles down at you, “let’s go, I’m walking you home.”

As you walk down the street, you chat away about your day at work, updating him on some recent office gossip about a work-couple. You don’t pay much attention to the way Jackson scans your surroundings: the way he moves closer to you ever so slightly, the way his hands ready to pull you back in case a cyclist nearly runs you over as you cross the road, the way he checks to see how you’re doing, only to get distracted by the way the warm street lights make your face glow.

It’s only when he hears a bunch of rowdy teenagers run past the two of you, that you register the way his arm wraps around your shoulder, bringing you in closer, shielding you. You look up at him, much closer now than before, your brows raised a touch, “oh, thank you.” His arm around you feels heavy, but warm, and you thank him silently for not dropping it afterwards.

The day started off amazingly; he adored the expensive coat you gifted him over breakfast in bed, something he had been not-so-inconspicuously eyeing for a while. It wasn’t an easy feat. You had to sneakily take his measurements using clothes in his wardrobe, and then somehow managed to stash away the thick package before the day arrived. You praised yourself for how good Joshua looked in the coat. The deep blue fabric stretched over his broad shoulders. He looked so heavenly, so dependable.

Then, came lunch. You hosted a hearty meal for Joshua and his parents, serving up all of his favourite dishes. Some of which were childhood favourites he hadn’t tasted in years, thanks to numerous phone calls with his mother in preparation. Seeing the way his face lit up at the sight of the familiar foods, and his constant, content chatter at the table, felt like enough birthday gifts to last you your lifetime.

In between, you spent time swathed up in blankets and each others’ arms on the couch, episodes of reality tv housewives and their girls trips running on television.

Your boyfriend wasn’t being the easiest to deal with right now. Through a series of party games after party games, accompanied with a reenactment where he pretended a bartender — making sure you “drank only the best (his) drinks” — Joshua only became even more cheeky, even more of a menace. The drinks he made you tasted worse and worse too. His imagination running wild only fuelled crazier ideas and ingredients. At some point, you had to put a pause to his little service.

The arm that once slung comfortingly around your waist turned into tight, tight backhugs and his chin stuck resting on your shoulder. The adoring eye smiles also evolved into lingering, desperate eyes, keen for a moment’s privacy. It didn’t help that your charming, sweet boyfriend swept you aside and into the hallway. Alone.

The voices of his group mates and closest friends inside the living room could still be heard, but the closed door giving you two a bit of peace dulled the world around you. The overhead hallway warm-light cast shadows over Joshua as he peered over you. His best features were highlighted, his lips only looked bigger and softer in the glow.

One hand left the other at your hips to cradle your face, brushing the strands of hair that dared to block his view of you. “That tickles,” you let out a breath. His smile only widened, making no move to stop his lingering fingers.

“I love you so, so much,” his arms tightened around you. His eyes gleamed now, the mood-lighting around you two forming stars and twinkles as he gazed on you. Your boyfriend had so much love to give, and there was no hiding on his side. It was so easy to find yourself overwhelmed by how much unfiltered care and adoration he had for you.

“Love you too, Joshie. I really hope you had a good day today,” you stepped closer into his embrace, your chin resting on his chest as you peered up at him.

“You have no idea,” he responded, leaning in to drop soft pecks all over your face: from the tip of your chin to your hairline. The kisses were enticingly light and feathery. After each one you couldn’t help but lean back in for another, only to be disappointed as Joshua drops the next in a different place, missing your lips. “I’m so excited to spend a life with you,” he leaned back, giggling at your unsuccessful efforts.

Bringing your hands up to loop around his neck, you brought him in to meet your lips. “Me too,” you whispered. The kiss started off sweet, gentle, as innocent as a couple could be. And you could feel a smile on your boyfriend’s lips as he continued kissing you.

The way he holds you, treating you like you’re so incredibly precious, turns you a little crazed. Gradually, his fingers curl into the fabric of your top, itching to delve under, desperate to touch your skin.

A particular loud yell from your friends makes you jump, Joshua’s teeth tugging on your bottom lip as you pull apart. “They’re having fun,” you smile, pointedly.

“We can have fun too,” he smirks, pulling you back in. You exhale, amused. Drunk Joshua was certainly more forward than usual, suggestive comments weren’t extremely uncommon but they definitely heightened when he was in one of his moods. His quip makes you giggle, and you feel an urge to spur more reactions out of him.

You tease Joshua as he reaches in, lips getting dangerously close each time but never quite meeting. At the first, he simply sighs, but as you hold up your teases his arms encase you even tighter. He’s definitely caught on by now. “Stop it…” he whines.

In one breath, you’re amusingly watching him grow more and more frustrated, but in the next, your hands are no longer on him. Instead, they’re held behind you, his hands firmly grasping your wrists together.

His lips crash onto yours, the force making you stumble a little, Joshua pressing you into the wall behind you.

You can feel each rise and fall of his chest against yours, your own heartbeat racing to mirror his. You’re overwhelmed by everything him, party cake and fruity drinks taste sweet on his tongue. His — and yours — favourite perfume overtakes you through subtle woody and vanilla scents.

You hear him hum lowly, a hand coming up to guide your lips to different angles. You swear you might faint, your knees were close to giving way and your heart was beating so fast your thoughts can’t keep up.

Joshua’s relentless kisses were addictive, but you pull away reluctantly, for fear of your own sanity. Your lips instantly feel colder, lonely without someone to love.

Reaching over the console to open your door, Seungcheol greets you with a warm, dimpled smile as you slide into your seat. “Hey,” you lean over to kiss his cheek and pull away, brushing through his newly washed hair. “You don’t have to pick me up every time, you know? I am capable of walking home.” Your boyfriend scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes whilst waiting for you to buckle up.“I know you’re capable and amazing and super smart, but weird people come out at night time! Besides, I like doing stuff for you, it’s my duty.” He shrugs. His words do put a smile on your face, you were definitely not complaining. “Thank you, Cheollie."

The car speakers play out your boyfriend’s latest favourite track, the sounds of the saxophone melted with the soft drumming rain outside. Moments like these with Seungcheol were your favourite, you didn’t get too many, so you cherished them dearly. You and him both loved the extravagance of black-tie dates and private island holidays, but just existing together, with no background noise, no one else, was the best.

Feeling your eyes on him, Seungcheol turns his head, the reflection of the red traffic light illuminating his features, softening his curves yet hardening his sharp edges. He had clearly just come back from working out at the gym. Sensing his gaze on you, he exaggeratedly brushes his hand through his hair, resting his elbow on your shoulder so his bicep was right in your face. “Nice try, Cheol” laughing, you shrug his arm off.

He tries to play innocent, “what? It’s not my fault you keep staring at me, I can’t help having muscles, I just got back from the gym.” Seungcheol leans in, his face coming closer to you, “stop staring at me, babe, or you’ll boost my ego.”

“Oh wow - your ego does not need a boost!” You scoff jokingly, keen to see how far he’ll take this, “or what, are you threatening me?” He laughs softly at your quip, turning away to set the car off at the green light. The track changes, and he drums his fingers on the steering while to the beat. The warmth of Seungcheol’s hand placed on your thigh distracts you, and you fiddle with his fingers in response, twisting at his ring. It's only a few moments later that, distracted, you notice he’s pulled over and the car’s stopped.

“Wha-“ Seungcheol cuts you off, cupping your face with both hands, his round eyes gleaming in the orange glow of the overhead streetlights outside. You thank yourself for being stringent with his self-care routine, his lips are pillowy and soft as they press against yours. The music that never turned off fill your senses, and your boyfriend slides a hand down to hold your neck firm, his thumb rubbing on your skin gently. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you can taste the raspberry chapstick you gifted him earlier.

Seungcheol is as insatiable as he is passionate, and chases your lips when you pull away for air, pushing you further into your seat. His hand comes up placed onto your headrest, caging you in as his scent invades you. His favourite, sweet, musky cologne mixed with a fruity body wash comes to be so addictive. You pull him even closer, as close as you can get, but that’s still not enough.

“Did you see the way he dodged the attacks?” When Mark got like this, and he did quite often, so enthralled in something, it’d be quite difficult to bring him out of the trance. A struggle you knew very well. Sometimes, it felt like you were intruding on a one-sided conversation your boyfriend would be having with himself, aloud. It was super endearing, to say the least; Mark didn’t get much downtime with his work, and both of you cherished the time he did so deeply.

There was one way to bring Mark back down to Earth, though. Putting the tried and tested method to use, you wrapped your fingers around his neck and bring him to your lips, cutting him off mid-ramble for a gentle kiss.

All you heard now was the outro of your boyfriend’s current watch on the TV. No lengthy, but cute, sermon about some hero-type character in earshot.

As you attempt to pull away, Mark’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist, locking you in further to his chest. One hand finds home at the back of your head, his fingers weaved into your hair strands, tugging ever so slightly to tilt your head to the side.

His lips leave yours, only by a few centimetres, to catch his breath, and he uses the time to play with your hair. “That wasn’t very nice of you,” Mark fake pouts.

“You wouldn’t shut up otherwise,” he shakes his head at your quip and pulls you in again for another kiss.

“Hey, ‘jun?” Your boyfriend, RENJUN, hums in response, fingers tapping away on his phone. You wait a few seconds, and Renjun lifts his head, locking his phone.

“I can’t figure out how to tie my dress, can you help me ‘junie?” You said, smiling bashfully. One of your hands is currently holding the fabric of your dress’ back together, feeling as if it’s about to give out if you don’t move it out of the uncomfortable position.

Renjun must have noticed and taken pity on you, because he huffs out air in amusement, and beckons you closer, “Of course, come here.” As you approach him, his hands clasp onto your waist and turn you around, allowing you to let go of the dress you had been holding in place and sigh out in relief.

Your back tenses up slightly at the soft touch of your boyfriend’s fingers on your skin, and he gets to work quietly. “What perfume are you wearing?” His question breaks the peace. “Hmm? Oh... it’s the one you got me last month, the YSL one” you reply, “do you like it?”

Renjun manages to weave the ties on the back of your dress, and clasps them together into a bow at the base of your back. With the dress secured, he leans closer forward, nose inches away from your neck and his hands positioned on your hips. “You smell so good, babe” he breathes in gently, your sweet fragrance clouding his resolve. Your stomach turns, feeling no less flustered by the man than when you had first fallen for him. You whisper out, “Yeah?”

As you speak, you turn your head enough so that Renjun’s lips are a few bare centimetres away from your own, and you watch as the tip of his tongue darts out to wet them. He takes your focus on his lips as approval, and presses them to yours, turning your body around so you could kiss him further. Your hands come up to his shoulders, his thin dress shirt allowing you to feel the warmth through the fabric. Your fingers squeeze gently as Renjun’s tongue meets yours, and your boyfriend responds by leaning his body forward, pushing you down.

You feel weightless as he dips you, your stomach exploding into a flurry of knots and twists, hands squeezing his shoulders tighter as you put all your faith in your boyfriend. Pulling away, you’re left breathless, and Renjun makes no move to pull you back up, instead choosing to stare into your eyes adoringly.

“Haechan - stop it,” you wipe at the wet, sloppy kiss Haechan delivered on your cheek. Turning to him, you slam your highlighter down onto your desk and glare up at the boy who was the source of your disturbance. However, you should’ve seen his smirk, as he takes your distracted state as an opportunity and bends down to kiss you.

Placing his hand firmly behind your head, he kisses you deeply, and you feel him smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. His other hand comes down to rest on your chair, and draws circles on your skin, travelling dangerously close to your inner thighs. Haechan tastes sweet, and his touch is warm, and it’s so easy to get lost in his embrace.

You feel his fingers twist and untie your scrunchie, your hair falling onto your neck as his hand works its way through the strands, only to collect the hair into his fist and pull so your head stretches back and your neck is in perfect reach. “You smell so good” he whispers, nose running down to your collarbone, “wearing the perfume I got you, hmm?” His kisses on your neck are electrifying, tickling you in the best way, leaving you pleading for more. You wanted, needed, all of his attention now.

JAEMIN loved hearing your laughter, seeing you beam up at him as he tickled your sides was the best sight to him. You lay on the floor, his attacks rendering you helpless as he traps you between the plush rug and himself. His thighs straddle around you with his hand holding both your wrists above your head.

“Jae- stop!” Your breaths come out uneven as laughs interrupt your words. And miraculously, he listens, if only for a second. He smiles contently at you, halting his taunts, and his eyes cheekily bead down. The next thing you know, he captures your lips with his and this thighs tighten their hold around your hips.

Jaemin lets go of his grip on your wrists, bringing his hand under the hem of your (his) hoodie to rest on your waist. Feeling you shudder from his cool touch, Jaemin breaks the kiss to laugh softly, only to go back and kiss you more feverishly.