제이

It was usual to take your time packing your things, not feeling the collective sense of urgency to leave like your classmates. Your fingers smoothed over the edge of your notebook before placing it carefully into your bag, aligning it with the others out of habit. The late afternoon sun had begun to settle low once you stepped outside, turning the dust in the courtyard into something almost golden.

As per usual, the boys had taken over the field, running without restraint while their shoes kicked up dry earth with every turn. The girls stayed closer to the edges, gathered in small groups to keep their past conversations going, or simply watched them play.

“Did you hear about Sunhee?” Near you, two girls stood close together, speaking in hushed tones.

The other leaned in. “No—what happened?”

“She was seen walking with—” Despite how badly you wanted to know that piece of information, your attention was diverted for longer than you’d care to admit

He stood in the corridor with a teacher in front of him. His uniform was perfectly neat; the dark jacket sat straight across his shoulder, the brass buttons catching the light as he moved. The only thing that barely messed up his polished self was a faint trace of chalk along one of his sleeves, as though he had brushed against the board earlier without noticing.

He gave the teacher his full attention, his posture straightening almost instinctively. When the teacher finished speaking, he bowed—clean and measured, neither exaggerated nor careless.

“Yes, sir.” Despite the low tone, it was clear enough to reach where you stood.

The teacher gave a short nod. “Make sure you review that section again. You were close.”

“I will,” Another bow, smaller this time, and the teacher moved on.

You were too immersed to notice how Wonhee nudged your arm lightly beside you. “You’re not listening at all today.”

You blinked, turning toward her. “I am.”

She didn’t believe you, but she let it go. “We’re going to the market later. Are you coming?”

“Maybe.”

“You always say that.” A faint smile appeared on your face, your attention already drifting back. This time, he had stepped down into the courtyard, now joining the others. 

“Juhoon! Don’t just stand there!” A boy whom you recognized as Seonghyeon threw him a ball, and the catch was so easy that it made his friends cheer him on.

“Hey,” The voice from Yunah softly broke in as she followed your gaze. “Who are you looking at?”

“No one,” you answered a little too quickly.

“Are you looking at Kim Juhoon?” The bell rang sharply, a clear cue to dissolve the moment into motion again before you can answer. Students began to move toward the gates, voices blending in familiar patterns. 

Trying to keep up with the conversation between your two friends was a little hard as you nodded at the right moments and offered brief responses when needed. It wasn’t difficult to stay present enough that no one questioned you; it was your forte, even when part of your attention was somewhere else.

And yet, just before all three reached the gate, you turned your head just enough to find him again.

Kim Juhoon… that’s a pretty name for a pretty boy. The name settled more easily in your mind than you expected.

At the time, you didn’t think much of it. Names were just names, and people existed around you every day without leaving any real impression. So why was there something about him that seemed so different that it stuck with you a little longer than usual? In a way, that should have been the end of it, but when your eyes noticed him again the next day, you knew it wasn’t.

It was surprising that it was not deliberate; you weren’t looking for him. Simply more aware of where people stood, how they moved, and of the small changes that others overlooked. It was something you had always done without thinking.

He sat near the front during morning assembly. Again, back straight, right through the teacher's speech, which was longer than necessary. He definitely carried the idea of the ideal student when you saw him ignore his friend's whisper and keep his gaze forward.

Later, in class, you realized he wrote quickly—but never carelessly. He didn’t pause to think of what to write; he paused to make sure it was right.

“Why do you keep looking over there? It has been a couple of days.” You startled slightly, turning to Wonhee, who had already caught you in the act.

“I’m not.”

It didn't take long for her to stop where your gaze fell. “You totally are.”

“I was just thinking.”

“About him?” she asked, not bothering to lower her voice as much this time.

“... No.”

Yunah leaned forward from the other side, resting her chin lightly on her hand. “It’s not a bad choice,” she said, almost thoughtfully. “He’s pretty, but not… reliable.”

“That’s what you’re looking for?” Wonhee teased.

“It’s what everyone is looking for,” Yunah replied simply.

It was the first time you didn't respond because you weren't sure that was really what you were sensing. As days passed by, it happened more often that you even began to recognize patterns.

He arrived earlier than most and always from the same direction, would greet the teachers properly, even when others only bowed halfway or not at all, and most importantly, he studied quietly, talked briefly and to the point, and became his friendly self when he was with his usual group of friends.

Once, you saw him lend a pencil to another student without being asked without making a point of it or wait for thanks—just passed it over and returned to his work. Another time, during a short break where Wonhee spoke about his interaction with Keonho, his friends tried to pull him into a game.

“Juhoon, come on. Just one round.”

“I can’t,” he replied, who you believed was Seonghyeon.

“Again?”

“I have something to finish.”

“Tell us something we don't know.” At that, he gave a small, almost apologetic smile, not moving from his seat. Due to the look on his face, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to join them; it was that he chose not to.

“Again? It’s like a million times today.” Wonhee murmured, barely hiding her teasing smile.

“No!”

“You were.”

“I’m not.” Yunah glanced between the two of you, then back toward him. “If you’re going to look, at least be less obvious.”

“I’m not being obvious,” the tone was quieter, eating one piece of kimbap to keep you busy. Both of them looked at you. You sighed, mouth muffling your words. “…Am I?”

Wonhee smiled. “Only to us.”

That should have embarrassed you, but it didn’t. It was a matter of time before your brain noticed things before they happened—when he would stand, speak, and leave.

And you couldn’t escape the fact of his overall appearance. He was handsome, to say the least, with slightly large brown eyes that turned hazel in the light, and a wide smile that surfaced easily when his friend James made him laugh. His dark hair fell in a soft fringe over his forehead; his slim, graceful build made the structured uniform look both formal and effortless.

God, you even noticed the faint mole just below his right jawline, visible only when he turned his head a certain way, adding a quiet touch of character to his already youthful features. Each day, your brain seemed to dedicate itself to noticing him—to sensing the way youth sat on him so naturally, and how many people envied him while he didn’t even realize he carried it like a blessing.

His skin had that untroubled clarity to it, smooth and bright enough to catch the light when he smiled, making everything about him feel a little warmer—an almost ethereal contrast to the colder persona he tried to portray. As the sun went down, a faint, natural flush would rise softly to his cheeks, fleeting and unfair in the way it made him look younger—or perhaps exactly his age, in the most disarming way.

And when he did smile? Oh, his smile.

His lips curved depending on the moment—slightly downturned at rest when he was holding back a thought or a joke—but that only made his smiles feel more genuine when they came. And it wasn’t just the smile itself—it was how quickly it arrived, how it slipped out before he could stop it. It was the kind of smile that belonged to someone who hadn’t yet learned to measure every reaction, to dull things down for the sake of composure.

There was a carelessness to him—not reckless, it was mostly unaware. As if he hadn’t yet realized how closely the world could look at you. He moved without that weight; the way he stood once as he waited for a girl outside another classroom gave him away. There was a loose rhythm to him, a slight swing of his arms, trusting that the ground would meet him every time. He didn’t hold himself like someone trying to be seen, especially outside of school; his shoulders stayed relaxed, his posture easy and unforced.

And then there were the small, unconscious habits that made him feel younger than he probably realized. The way he leaned in when his friends goofed around, how his fingers tapped absentmindedly against his sleeve when he was thinking, or how he tilted his head just slightly when something intrigued him. That one was your favorite.

He didn’t really guard himself; even when that colder expression crossed his face and pulled his features into something more distant, it never fully held. Something always shone through: a flicker in his eyes, a half-formed smile, a softness that refused to disappear.

Maybe that was why people noticed him without meaning to—why you felt almost hypnotized the first time you saw him. That contradiction made people like you look twice. Because, in your mind, youth—real youth—wasn’t just in smooth skin or bright eyes. It was in the way everything about him felt unfinished in the best possible sense. Just like you, he was still shifting and unaware of which parts of himself would stay and which would fade.

And the strangest part? He didn’t seem to know it at all. It came to him naturally, the same way you had always noticed shifts before anyone else did.

Only now did the shift have a name: Kim Juhoon.

JUHOON's POV

July 23rd, 1960

He adjusted the strap of his bag as he stepped onto the road, the noise of the school fading behind him, replaced by the softer sounds of animals. The path home was familiar enough that he didn’t need to think about it, leaving his mind free to return to more pressing matters. The math test. He replayed the last question, frowning slightly.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the ground if you keep thinking like that.” Keonho caught up to him, hands tucked loosely into his pockets.

“It wasn’t difficult. I just didn’t answer it as well as I should have.”

Keonho chuckled. “You say that every time, and you get it right.”

“Because I’m usually right.”

“See? That’s the problem. You’re always right, and it’s still not enough.” Juhoon didn’t respond, focused on kicking a pebble instead, until Keonho nudged him. “By the way—”

“What?”

“There’s a girl who keeps looking at you.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen it. In class. She’s always—” he gestured vaguely, “—watching.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“I’m not. The quiet girl by the window—the one with the binyeo. She’s been looking at you for at least a month.”

That made him pause, a binyeo? Then he nudged Keonho back, sharper this time. “So you’ve been paying more attention to her than your lessons?”

Keonho scoffed. “I’m a loyal man. My heart’s already taken—by one of her friends.” Juhoon let out a short laugh, quiet at first, then louder at the faint color rising to Keonho’s cheeks.

When the laughter died down, Juhoon looked ahead. “…I know who you mean.”

“See?”

“But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Maybe not. But it’s still interesting.”

Juhoon shook his head, his expression settling. “It’s not.”

Keonho sighed. “You’re no fun.”

“That’s not my concern.”

They reached the turn where their paths split, and the youngest gave him a friendly pat on his back. “Don’t think about the test all night! You’ll survive one mistake.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” As Keonho left, Juhoon continued alone, though the conversation occupied his mind longer than expected.

He was used to Keonho’s teasing—that was easy to ignore. The mention of the girl wasn’t. She was quiet during lessons; that much was true. He had seen her with her friends: she was more expressive, although never enough to catch anyone’s attention—except for those who were already looking at her, and she was composed and always stayed that way. She perfectly blended herself into the background—unless you chose to notice.

And until now, he hadn’t.

The thought had already begun to fade once he reached his street. His grandmother stood outside the gate, adjusting a basket of tangerines, the bright color standing out against the muted tones of the yard.

“Grandma, you should’ve called me.”

She clicked her tongue softly at the sight of him taking the basket from her, though she let him. “You just came back from school, and I can still carry a few tangerines.”

“They’re not light,” he replied, steadying the weight in his arms.

“And neither are you,” she said, eyeing him briefly. “You’ve grown again.”

He didn’t answer that, only shifted the basket more securely before stepping inside with her.

From the kitchen, the faint sound of his mother already preparing the evening meal, and the smell of a soup simmering drifted into the courtyard.

“You’re back?” she said without turning fully. “Wash your hands soon.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Took you long enough.” Juhoon glanced over. His older brother, Soobin, sat with one knee pulled up, a book resting loosely in his hand. He wasn’t really reading it—just flipping through pages like he had nowhere else to be.

“I walked home,” Juhoon said.

“With Keonho?” Soobin asked lowly with the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes.”

“Mm.” The tall one nodded once, convinced. “Then I guess you were talking the whole way.”

Juhoon set the basket down with a quiet exhale. “Not the whole way.”

“Of course not,” Soobin said lightly. “I used to take that one to forget that I have exams coming up.”

Juhoon rolled his sleeves back slightly. “I didn’t forget.”

“I know,” Soobin replied, finally looking up at him properly. “You never do.”

Their mother glanced between them briefly without interrupting, continuing what she was doing right after she gave a kiss on his cheek. He could hear the faint rustle of newspaper pages turning, marking their father’s presence in the living room, remaining silent as he digested the news.

Juhoon moved to wash his hands, the cool water running over his fingers before he dried them clean and grabbed the utensils.

“So, how was the test?”

“I think I made a mistake.”

Soobin let out a small breath through his nose. “You say that like the world’s ending.”

“I know it’s not, but I can’t stop thinking about it,” Juhoon said.

“Good, then just fix it next time.”

The smile he gave him was comforting enough that he copied it. “I will. Don’t worry about it.”

“Obviously,” Soobin said, leaning back slightly. “You’d bother me all week if you didn’t.”

“Everyone! Dinner’s ready.”

“Going,” Juhoon slowed, just a step behind the others, to help his grandma stand up from her rocking chair. “Wow, Grandma. You are getting better at drawing.”

His tone was light, almost teasing, but his grandmother formed a pleased smile. “You think so?”

He nodded, reaching down to steady her arm as she rose. “These are different.”

Up close, the flowers were more detailed than he first thought. Due to his grandma’s drawing abilities, they weren’t just simple petals—clusters layered carefully, and each one slightly uneven. The tiny, round buds gathered together, with faint lines suggesting stems or threads holding them in place.

“They’re pretty,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“They are, I saw them at the market.”

Juhoon paused. “How? It’s really hard to get flowers at times like this.”

She hummed, taking a slow step forward with his help. “A girl helped me carry the basket on the bus. It was brief since she had to do something.” Her eyes softened, recalling it. “But the flowers stayed in my mind. So I drew them before I forgot.”

“A girl?” 

His grandmother chuckled. “Don’t sound so interested all of a sudden.”

“I’m not,” he said quickly.

“They were in her hair. A binyeo.” She gestured faintly with her free hand. “Soft colors. Pink, maybe. You know, I’ve never seen a piece so pretty since your grandfather gifted me one.”

Juhoon glanced back at the notebook. Soft pink, clustered, and carefully placed without looking messy. The same vague image brushed against his thoughts again.

“You remembered all that just from seeing her once?”

“You don’t always choose what you remember. Some things just settle in and stay.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached over and gently closed the notebook, focusing on getting his grandma to the table.

“Let’s go.” They moved toward the others, slowing down for her.

Juhoon kept his gaze forward. It didn’t matter. A random girl with a binyeo and his grandmother’s sketch. That was all it was. And yet, as he walked, the image stayed—clearer and more defined than it had any right to be.

He exhaled quietly, the sudden distraction bothering him. He wouldn’t let something that small take up space in his mind. And yet, it did.

Dinner passed in its usual rhythm. The clink of chopsticks against metal bowls, the quiet exchange of small remarks, his mother asking if the kimchi had enough salt, his father folding the newspaper only after finishing the last column—nothing out of place or worth remembering.

Juhoon answered when spoken to, ate what was given, and kept his posture straight without thinking of it. The conversation drifted around him more than it included him, but that had always been the case, and the same went for his brother. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just pretty normal.

Still, somewhere between one bite and the next, his grandmother’s words returned.

“You don’t always choose what you remember.”

He frowned faintly, lowering his gaze to his bowl. That didn’t make sense. Memory wasn’t random—it followed logic, repetition, and importance. That’s what he believed and how he studied; you focused on what mattered, and the rest faded.

That was how it should be.

“Juhoon.”

He looked up. “I’m sorry, yes?”

“You’re thinking again,” his mother kindly said, her hand fixing his hair. “Please focus on your food.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, almost automatically.

Soobin let out a quiet laugh. “Your mind must be busy today, huh?”

Juhoon didn’t argue this time; his brother knew him too well.

After dinner, he gathered the empty bowls, stacking them neatly before bringing them into the kitchen. The warm water stung slightly against his hands as he washed them. As soon as he finished, the house had settled into its usual quieter state. His father had returned to his reading; his mother moved more slowly now as she put things away, and his grandmother’s soft humming drifted faintly from the other room before she turned the TV on.

Juhoon dried his hands and stepped outside; it was his usual routine to prepare himself for a long night. The cool air of the evening brought him enough comfort to ease his mind, as he pleasantly enjoyed the faint edge that came just before night fully settled in. The sky was darker now, the last traces of light barely holding onto the horizon, and somewhere down the street, he could hear a radio playing softly. 

He exhaled, letting the quiet sit with him, leaning back slightly against the wooden post behind him, arms crossing loosely. This was the part of the day he preferred when everything slowed enough for him to organize his thoughts properly before studying, taking his time to close his eyes and breathe deeply, just like he used to see his grandma do.

Despite his efforts, that binyeo came back to his head. Juhoon clicked his tongue softly under his breath, annoyed at himself this time. It didn’t make sense for him to think about it. 

Most of the people he knew who wore that particular hairpiece were adult married women, which is why it made her recognizable in a community where braids and ponytails were standard, which was exactly why it stayed in his mind longer than it should have. That was the reason it made sense to him.

Juhoon opened his eyes again, gaze settling past the low wall, though he wasn’t really looking at anything in particular. The image remained vague—more impression than detail—he shifted slightly against the post, uncrossing his arms before crossing them again, as if adjusting his posture might also settle his thoughts. It didn’t. Maybe his grandmother had misremembered.

That was possible. Ever since the day her mother decided to take care of her because of her age, he saw how his grandmother’s mind was also slowly aging. She worked from memory when she drew, and her memory had a way of softening things, changing them without permission. Either the colors blurred, or the shapes shifted, but she had been so certain.

Juhoon exhaled slowly through his nose. It didn’t matter. 

An unfamiliar low hum of an engine interrupted his internal fight. Juhoon’s attention shifted immediately, his head turning slightly toward the road. The sound grew louder, then steadied before slowing.

A Sibal car came into view. Its headlights cut briefly across the wall before dimming as it pulled to a stop right in front of his house. The car wasn’t new, but it was well-kept, with clean lines and no visible damage, clear as the day that the owner cared for it. 

The driver’s door opened first, and a man stepped out, one polished shoe meeting the ground before the rest of him followed once the engine idled. He straightened slowly, rolling his shoulders to most likely ease the stiffness from the drive, closing the door with care, not letting it slam, and turned briefly toward the house across from Juhoon’s. His gaze scanned—taking in the gate, the small yard, the structure itself. Confirming.

Juhoon followed that line of sight instinctively. The “For Sale” sign was gone completely. He didn’t notice when the passenger door opened and someone emerged into his sight more slowly; what he did was catch the fading light from her hair. 

A half-up secured with a binyeo holding her hair neatly in place, with a soft detail at the end that caught what little light remained. Pink or something close to it. That’s when his eyes widen slightly.

The girl smoothed her skirt absentmindedly before glancing toward the unfamiliar surroundings, her quiet yet contained movement feeling too familiar, making it easy to connect the dots between the past conversations he had had. One of the streetlights made her face more visible, finally putting a face to the object.

She looked exactly like someone who had not yet realized she was being looked at; an unguarded youth settled on her naturally, from the ease of her posture to the softness that hadn’t been shaped into anything yet. Every feature of her delicate face conveyed a certain beauty that he couldn’t quite put his finger on from a distance; her slightly parted lips faced the street, as if these narrow roads and quiet houses would be the ones to watch her grow over the next few years, too busy taking it all in to think about being seen. Still, it felt difficult for him to look away once he had started, as though there was something in that unawareness that held him there longer than he intended.

While the light didn’t do her justice, at least not enough to define her features so much as to rest on them, he couldn’t help but notice the faintest trace of melancholy in the way her gaze moved quietly and observantly rather than bright with excitement. She didn’t fidget with the medium-sized cardboard box in her hands as most would, nor did she rush to follow her—presumably—father toward the entrance; instead, she remained where she was for a moment longer, existing within the stillness, carrying a composure that didn’t feel practiced, only natural.

It made her seem older at first glance, and yet, the longer he looked, the clearer it became that it was the opposite—that this quiet steadiness was part of her youth, not separate from it, and very unrefined and unguarded in a way that made it all the more real.

It happened without warning—the moment her gaze lifted and met his.

For a second, neither of them moved, the distance between the two houses collapsing into something far smaller than it should have been. Up close—or as close as that distance allowed—there was a flicker in her expression, realizing she was no longer alone in her quiet observation. Her eyes widened slightly, the composure slipping just enough to reveal the girl beneath it, and just as quickly as it appeared, she looked away, the motion small yet immediate.

“Sweetheart, come take a look!” the man spoke, and her shift was sudden. She adjusted her hold on the box, almost too quickly now, and without sparing another glance, she turned and moved toward the gate, her steps no longer as unhurried as before. The door opened, then closed behind her, and just like that, she was gone.

Juhoon remained where he was. A coincidence, that’s all. It wasn’t unusual to see people move. Houses changed owners, and the streets were meant not to stay the same forever. There was no reason for this to feel like anything more than that.

From inside, he heard the faint creak of his own front door.

“Juhoon?” his mother called lightly. “Who is it?”

He turned his head slightly. “New neighbors.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a father and his daughter. The man came in the afternoon to move their stuff.” She spoke again, the leftover kimbap from his hand going to his mouth after his words.

There was a brief pause before his brother stepped out with Grandma by her side to see for herself. “Ah… I see. Hopefully, they are kind.”

Across the street, the man came out again, noticing them looking directly at their property, and gave a polite nod, one that his mother returned almost immediately. And by the look on her face, a proper introduction would come later. He stepped back, turning toward the door, the moment already beginning to close in the most uneventful way ever. As he entered his room, partially ready to study, his gaze went to his window.

There she was again, this time with more comfortable clothing, her hair completely loose, a few strands falling softly against her face as she moved about the room without urgency. The light inside her house was warmer, embracing everything about her, making her seem even more distant despite being closer than before. She continued unpacking, and Juhoon stood there for a moment longer than necessary before looking away.

It was nothing. Just a neighbor across the street, someone he happened to go to the same high school, and there was no reason to think about it beyond this, especially since there were more important things waiting for him. Pop quizzes and exams didn’t allow room for distractions, and he had never been the kind to create them for himself.

After a quick shower, he pulled his chair back, opening his notebook to the same page from earlier. The numbers were still there, waiting for him to do what he always did—focus, correct, and move forward.

It would have been impossible to avoid your friends’ questions about the move when you had spent the whole week talking about it, only to fall silent now. You hadn’t gotten used to having Juhoon as a neighbor yet, much less expected that, out of everyone, it would be him—the one who had already unsettled your heart.

Every morning for the past week and a half, the new street became familiar as you created your own route to avoid him, making your usual stop before going to school. 

Whenever you entered, it was usually the same noise—some mornings heavy with the low-energy vibration of a Monday morning, others softened by the sunlight filtering through the tall windows, dust drifting in golden haze.

You sat at your desk near the window as usual, when two chairs suddenly scraped close. The sight of Wonhee and Yunha leaning over your desk with their eyes bright with curiosity made you chuckle a little.

“So?” Wonhee whispered, “Did you see him this morning? Did he say anything?”

“No,” you murmured, pulling your literature textbook from your bag. “We’re just neighbors, it’s normal.”

“Normal doesn’t make you turn that shade of pink,” Yunah teased, resting her chin on her palm.

You didn’t answer because, at that moment, he walked in. As usual, he moved unhurriedly, his perfectly ironed gakuran-style jacket embracing his body. “Have you ever thought of confessing?”

Your head snapped toward her, “Are you insane? No.”

“You have an advantage. He’s your neighbor—” Yunha used her hands to emphasize her argument, disappointed in how you denied.

“I actually spoke with Keonho about you, so we can—” The confession made your pens drop, eyes shamefully wide. 

“You said something about my crush on him?” The whisper came out sharper than you intended.

“No!” Wonhee rushed. “He asked first! He noticed you looking at him. That’s when we started paying attention. We didn’t know about your feelings until now.”

Oh, God.

“Good norming, everyone. Let’s begin the class.” The teacher’s voice settled over the room firmly. Wonhee and Yunha exchanged one last look at you before retreating to their seats. You kept your eyes on your desk, heat still clinging to your skin.

The panic of one person knowing—one that was so close to him—and exposing you sent shivers down your spine. You didn’t dare look up, hearing the chalk tapping steadily against the board in the background. 

Normally, you would have followed along easily, but your hand remained still as that lingering thought began to press against your mind: He knows.

Or worse, Keonho might know, and he might say it.

The graphite hovered over the page before finally touching down. Each of the strokes was carefully written down your book slowly and unnaturally, but despite your efforts, your thoughts kept drifting.

“...open your notebooks and copy this down.” The teacher’s voice cut through your thoughts.

The notebook was pulled safely onto your desk before flipping it open. The soft rustle of the paper, accompanied by the sound of a few pens being unscrewed, was strangely comforting. 

“Is something wrong, Juhoon?” The teacher’s question made everyone look up, their pens pausing mid-writing as their attention drifted towards him without anyone saying a word. Yours included.

He was already half-standing from his seat, one hand inside his bag, the other pushing aside books with restrained urgency that didn’t match him.

“I—” he started, stopping abruptly. His brows drew together faintly. “I think I forgot my notebook.” 

A few people chuckled under their breath, his friends included. The teacher sighed, tapping the chalk once against the board before turning fully toward him. “You think, or you did?”

Juhoon glanced down at his bag again, as if the answer might appear if he searched hard enough. “I did.”

“Then borrow one,” the teacher replied, his back facing all of us. “And copy everything before the end of class.” 

“Y/N has an extra!” The tip of your pencil snapped faintly. Wonhee’s voice cut through the room with clarity, pulling every gaze toward you.

Warmth flooded your ears. “Wonhee—” you hissed. Yunah covered her mouth, barely containing a laugh, and Wonhee just looked satisfied with what he had done.

He was looking at you when you decided to turn around quietly to confirm rather than discovering something else. As he approached, your heartbeat pounded faster.

The opportunity of laughing it off before denying it was there, and instead, you just sat there, fingers tightening around the broken pencil still in your hand. 

“Can I?” he asked, gesturing toward your bag.

Your mind lagged. “My—? Oh. Yes. I mean—yes.”

It felt like your back cracked as you turned, quickly leaving your broken pencil aside and reaching into your bag to pull the extra notebook your dad has insisted you bring “in case,” its cover still a little too stiff, matching its mostly untouched pages.

“Here.”

Unconsciously, your hand passed over the front once and brushed your fingers with his hand when he reached for it. It was so light you barely missed it if it wasn’t for Juhoon’s eyes on yours when it happened. You carefully pulled your hand back, missing how he slightly bowed with gratitude.

“Thank you.” He returned to his seat to gather the rest of his things, as nothing happened.

“Still nothing?” Yunha murmured, her gaze on you.

“Still noting.” Not even your voice believed that.

After four hours and finally resting in your house, the sky had turned into that quiet blue of early night. It felt weird to see how the first few pages were no longer untouched, and his handwriting filled the top of one page neatly. It wasn’t special, and yet you stared at it longer than expected after finishing your homework.

The tip of your finger traced the faint indentations left behind by his pen, and your pencil found your hand before you thought about it

You didn’t think, just wrote it. Juhoon.

The name looked too intentional sitting there alone, so you draw a heart next to it. You stared at it, feeling your heart beating a little faster than it should have.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!” The door opened before you could react properly. Your dad stood there, clearly watching the way you jolted before placing your hand over the page and erasing everything at a speed that felt almost unnatural, closing the notebook to stop staring at it. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you said, standing a little too fast. “Let’s go.”

Dinner moved around you without landing. Your dad’s voice carried stories from work, including late deliveries, conversations that slipped sideways. Still, guilt lingered in its place for not engaging like usual because your mind wasn’t fully there.

Chopsticks clicked softly against porcelain. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”

“Just tired.” 

His gaze lingered on you as silence pressed in. “For what it’s worth, your mom used to get like that.”

“Like what?”

“Somewhere else,” he said, a faint smile threading through memory. “All the right answers, none of the attention.”

“I’m listening.”

“I know. Just thinking.” An ache rose to the point it was difficult to ignore. The chopsticks where placed next to your plate.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

Your fingers pressed into the fabric of your pajama. “…How did you know you loved Mom?”

The room stilled, and the radio static hummed low like a distant echo. He leaned back, exhaling slowly, something he used to do when a memory settled over. “That’s a serious question.”

“Just want to know.” 

A nod. “At first? Nothing felt important.” 

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. Just another familiar person whom I used to have occasional conversations with. Then, the details stayed in my mind.”

“Such as?”

“The way she laughed at things no one else noticed.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “The quiet around her when she thought. Also, the way she made space for people—even when space was all she had. None of that felt big back then, that’s the part no one tells.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s not sudden and loud. Stories get that wrong.”

“Then what?”

“Quiet. So quiet it’s easy to miss.”

Both of his elbows touched the table. His head was resting on top of his fists with his eyes fixed on the framed picture of them. “It shows up in habits. Wanting to tell her everything first. Wondering what she’d say, even when she’s gone. Remembering without trying.” His voice softened. “And then, everything begins to include her.”

“That sounds—”

“Complicated?” A small nod. “It can be. But back then, it wasn’t.”

“What did it feel like?”

A faint smile returned. “So familiar that it felt that it had always been there and I’d been blind this whole time.”

“And how you knew it wasn’t a phase?”

“Because I gave it a chance. Even when the chaos was everywhere, that feeling stayed.”

“And then?”

“I chose it.”

“Choose it?”

“Feelings arrive on their own. Staying doesn’t. At some point, a decision happens.”

“And if certainty isn’t there yet?”

“It doesn’t need to be. Not at the start. Just pay attention to what stays.” A pause. “Love isn’t about a face. It’s about what remains when everything else fades.”

The warmth of his palm brushed your cheek.

“A face catches attention,” he continued softly, “but a person keeps it. From the way they think to how they treat people, especially when they finally show you who they are when no one’s watching. That’s what makes someone real. And real—”

That small gesture, the one always used to pass the ending over. A laugh slipped out. “—is what stays.”

“Exactly.”

His hand dropped back to the table.“Plenty of people are easy to like from a distance,” he went on. “There’s no risk, responsibility, or need to show up. Closeness asks more, and not everyone’s willing to give that... If something lives in hesitation,” he said, “in almosts, in unsaid things, it doesn’t and won’t last. Maybe it never even begins. Love shouldn’t feel hidden or uncertain.”

He leaned back, reaching for the kimchi to balance the deep conversation. “The right person won’t leave you guessing when they know it’s the one; you won’t have background roles. That person must be next to you, upgrading you every single time.”

“That’s what you did with mom?”

A flicker of mischief crossed his face, “She actually didn’t make it hard. She shone so brightly that the sun was jealous.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was always meant to be seen. And I…” His two thumbs pointed at himself with a small shrug. “I just made sure she shone the way she deserved.”

The conversation stuck with you more than you meant it. You waited for him to leave your room after a kiss on the forehead once you both were ready to sleep for the next day, then opened your notebook again. The faint outline of a name was still visible beneath where you had tried to erase it, but you let it stay.

JUHOON's POV

The afternoon hit when Juhoon finished copying what he annotated on his neighbor's notebook, a clear indicator of it was that particular shade between evening and night in the sky he liked. It was time to return it.

He reached for his jacket first before entering the hallway, and his reflection caught him off guard. Juhoon’s eyes scan over himself—collar straight, hair not completely out of place, nothing noticeably off.

“I’m going out for a bit,” he called, already slipping his shoes on.

His mother’s voice followed from inside. “Don’t be long!”

“I won’t.”

The night air greeted him immediately, a few children here and there playing before dinner. He crossed without hesitation once he noticed her house had the lights on, lifting his gaze toward the window out of habit, stopping himself since there was no reason to look.

He knocked, clearly hearing footsteps approaching, and soon, the door opened, revealing her.

Up close, nothing changed—and yet, it did. Her hair was loose and partially wet, not as carefully arranged as it had been earlier in the week, a few strands resting against her face like they hadn’t decided where to settle. Her expression went from composed to slightly surprised.

“I—” He adjusted slightly, holding out the notebook. “I forgot to give you this.”

Her gaze dropped to it, then lifted back to him. “Oh.” She stepped forward just enough to take it from his hands. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I didn’t realize I still had it,” he added, because it felt like something that should be said.

“It’s okay, I didn’t need it today. Or any day, I just keep it just in case.”

He nodded once. “That’s good.”

“Oh! It’s you!” a voice cut in suddenly, bright and unmistakably familiar.

Juhoon turned slightly. His grandmother was already making her way across the street, her steps quicker than usual, one hand lifting in an excited wave.

He hadn’t even noticed her leave the house.

“My bus girl!” she said, her face lighting up the moment she reached the gate. There was no hesitation in her steps, no restraint in the way she approached and moved him out of the way. The girl blinked, clearly caught off guard for a second until recognition settled in.

“Grandma—” Juhoon started, but it was already too late.

“My dear!” his grandmother continued warmly, reaching out to gently take the girl’s hands without thinking twice. “It’s really you.”

“Hello, Miss. Kang,” Juhoon didn’t miss her smile and how she got comfortable with the touch of the elderly. That’s one pretty smile. “Are you doing well?”

“Well?” his grandmother repeated with a small laugh. “I’ve been waiting to see you again! You disappeared so quickly that day.”

“I didn’t disappear, I just had to get off,” she admitted, glancing down briefly. “I’m sorry.”

“For helping me and keeping me company for several months?” his grandmother shook her head. “You even carried my basket. I should be the one apologizing for being such a burden.”

“You will never be a burden to me, Miss. Kang. I love talking to you.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” his grandmother continued. “You stayed with me the whole way.”

“It was nothing,” the girl replied.

“That’s what you say,” his grandmother smiled, squeezing her hands lightly. “But not many people would do the same.”

“…You know each other?” he asked.

His grandmother turned to him, almost amused. “Of course we do, are you not listening? She’s been keeping me company on the bus these past few weeks. Sometimes she's quiet, but I love that! Quiet people notice more.”

“You never said anything,” He heard a small chuckle from her, and she glanced briefly toward Juhoon before looking back at his grandmother.

“I didn’t know you lived here,” she said.

“Across the street,” his grandmother replied easily, gesturing behind her. “This is the grandson I spoke to you about.”

Only then did the connection settle fully. “Oh, I didn’t know she was your grandmother,” the girl murmured.

Juhoon straightened slightly, suddenly aware of his own presence again. “Well, I was just returning her notebook.”

“Yes, yes,” his grandmother nodded quickly, but her attention stayed on the girl. “You should come by sometime. I make good tea—better than the one on the bus, I promise.”

A small smile appeared, her fingers gently tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d love that. I can go with some cookies. I remember you like the lemon ones.”

“Oh, sweetheart, that would be lovely.” Then the girl stepped back slightly, adjusting the notebook in her hands as she bowed. “I should go. My father is waiting.”

“Of course,” his grandmother said, though there was a clear reluctance in her tone. “Don’t disappear again, hm?”

“I won’t. Have a good night, Miss. Kang. See you at school, Juhoon,” she replied softly.

“Night.” Her gaze flickered once more unintentionally toward Juhoon before she turned and stepped inside; the door closed gently behind her.

Juhoon exhaled lightly. “That was unnecessary,”

His grandmother glanced at him. “Was it?”

“You didn’t have to come over like that.”

“She would’ve left otherwise,” she replied simply.

“That’s fine,” he said. “I already returned it.”

“Walk with me,” she said. Since it wasn’t a question, he didn’t argue.

They moved down the street together, her pace naturally slower, his adjusting without effort. He knew the night had settled fully now when there weren’t any children on sight, windows started to dim, and the world was folding into itself after a long day.

He didn’t mind it. Walking beside her had always felt nice, knowing that at the end of it, she would let him vent without being judged by his father.

“You said she was quiet,” his grandmother began.

“She is,” he replied. “And serious. You just said that, as well.”

“Serious,” she repeated, a faint trace of amusement in her voice. “That’s what you see?”

“She doesn’t talk much. She keeps to herself. Focused, I guess.”

“Mm.”

“That’s all.” His grandmother smiled faintly, but there was something in it that made him look away first.

“She helped me on the bus,” she said again.

“I know.”

“She carried the basket without being asked.”

“You told me.”

“And she stayed with me until my stop.”

Juhoon nodded. “You said that too.”

“And she missed hers.”

That made him glance at her properly this time. “…Why?”

“She didn’t say it; she just stayed next to me and told jokes just to make me feel better when I told her I lost my friend.”

“That’s not practical.”

“No?”

“If she had somewhere to be, she should’ve gone,” he said. “Helping doesn’t mean you have to—”

“—lose something?” she finished gently, already knowing his answers.

They walked a few more steps before his grandmother slowed, eventually making her way toward a small bench by the side of the road. She sat down with care, her hands folding neatly in her lap as her gaze drifted upward, toward the faint scatter of stars.

Juhoon hesitated for a second before sitting beside her.

“You look at people the way you look at your studies.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you decide quickly what matters,” she continued. “What’s useful and can be understood.”

“That’s not wrong,” he said.

“No, it isn’t,” she agreed. “But people aren’t questions with one correct answer.”

Juhoon’s brows pulled together faintly.

“You see that she’s quiet. Serious and focused.” She glanced at him briefly. “That’s what she shows you. But what someone shows isn’t all they are.”

He let out a small breath through his nose. “I’m not trying to figure her out.”

“That’s exactly why you don’t see it.” 

“See what?”

“Courage despite the pain.”

“It’s just kindness.”

“Is it?” she asked. Juhoon didn’t answer right away, not truly having a correct answer this time. “She didn’t know me, it would’ve been easier not to help and pretend she didn’t notice.”

He looked down at his hands, resting loosely against his knees.

“That doesn’t make it courage,” he said after a moment. “It’s just… a choice.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “And not everyone makes it. She didn’t gain anything from it. No one praised her or saw it.” A small pause. “She just did it because of her pure heart.”

Juhoon’s gaze drifted somewhere ahead, unfocused.

“You think courage has to be loud so that people recognize it,” she said gently. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to, I know you, you punk.” He exhaled quietly despite the nickname. “It’s small, most of the time, and easy to miss if you’re only looking at what’s on the surface.”

Her warm hand engulfed his; her fingers tightened slightly. “I think you’re reading too much into it,” he said after a while.

“Maybe,” she agreed easily. Juhoon leaned back slightly, his gaze lifting toward the sky for a brief moment before dropping again. “Enough about that, what’s on your mind?”

“The math test results come out tomorrow,” Juhoon said, shifting the topic immediately. “I think I lost points on the last question. The method was right, but the explanation wasn’t precise enough.”

His grandmother listened. “If I had written it differently, it would’ve been clearer,” he added. “It’s not a big mistake, but it still matters.”

“A mistake is a mistake, it doesn’t define you unless it hurts someone,” she said.

“That’s why I need to fix it next time, because it will most likely pain my father.” And just like that, everything else faded. They walked home with his voice filling the space now, focused entirely on numbers, on corrections, on what could be improved.

When they reached the house, he stepped inside first.

“Don’t stay up too late,” his grandmother said, her finger pointing at him.

“I won’t.” The woman kissed his forehead before he went straight to his room. The desk, the chair, and the notebook were waiting exactly where they should be.

He sat down and opened the notebook to the same page, the paper settling flat beneath his hand with the problem staring up at him, exactly as he had left it: unfinished and slightly off. He let his pen hover just above the page, the tip barely grazing the surface as if it could decide for him where to begin. It only lasted a second before he started.

The first line came easily, followed by the next, and then the next after that. Each step fell into place with certainty, the method unfolding the way it should have earlier. The smile spreading across his face showed how proud he was that there was no hesitation this time, completely familiar.

It may sound odd for others, but he really enjoyed how numbers didn’t leave space for misinterpretation, hide behind silence, or shift depending on where you looked. If something was wrong, it could be corrected. If something was unclear, it could be rewritten. There was always a way forward and a clearer answer waiting if you just focused long enough to find it.

His attention stayed where it belonged, following the final steps as they coalesced into something complete; the correct answer sat before him. He leaned back slightly, exhaling under his breath, sensing how the faint tension in his shoulders eased without him realizing it.

The notebook was closed with him looking, the soft thud of the cover sealing everything neatly inside. Just like that, the mistake was fixed. 

Across the street, he didn’t know a certain someone was slowly dozing off, still thinking about how a dinner conversation carried more weight than it should, and made her question everything. The distance between them wasn’t far, but why had it never felt wider?

It didn’t change the next day or the one after that; it was already settling quietly and deeper, slipping beneath the surface where it couldn’t be easily named or pushed aside. Juhoon didn’t think about it directly, he couldn’t put it in with words, but it showed in the way his routines lost their characteristic ease, first it was his pen hovering a little longer before writing, then his eyes lingering on questions he would normally move past without hesitation, to end with the certainty he had always relied on began to feel just slightly out of reach.

Seeing himself in second place in his class didn’t cause him any surprise. It wasn’t familiar, sure—there was always a first time for everything, and he was very happy for Minseok—but what unsettled him wasn’t the number itself but how quickly it stopped feeling like something temporary. Three points weren’t enough to define anything, and that bittersweet feeling stayed with him longer than it should have. And despite everything looking the same at home, he could already feel the tension the second his dad glared at him.

The table was already set when he came down from his room, dishes neatly placed with steam rising softly above them from the soup, curling into the air. His mother moved between the kitchen and the table, his grandmother sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap after arranging the utensils, and Soobin helped with what was missing. And his father sat at the head of the table, newspaper closed next to him and conserving his posture straight, not even giving up his stare after he sat down.

He reached for his chopsticks. “The rankings came out today.”

Juhoon’s hand paused slightly before continuing. “Yes.”

“And?”

“I placed second overall.”

“Second?”

“Yes.”

“Who placed first?”

“Hwang Min Seok.”

“And the difference?”

“…Three points.” Juhoon focused on picking up his food, if only to fill the silence with sound.

“So you lost points.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“The last question.”

“You didn’t know it?”

“I did.”

“Then why did you lose points?”

Juhoon’s fingers tightened slightly around his chopsticks. “My explanation wasn’t clear enough.”

The sound of his father setting the chopsticks down echoed. “That’s carelessness.”

“I reviewed it. I just—”

“You just what?” The interruption was sharp this time, making him stop before saying something else.

“I thought it was enough.”

“Enough?” his father repeated, the word coming out almost incredulous. “You’re satisfied with ‘enough’ now?”

“No.”

“Then don’t say it like you are.”

“I’m not,” Juhoon replied, the edge slipping in before he could stop it. “I corrected it. I know what I did wrong.”

“That’s not the point.” His father’s voice hardened, cutting through the room more clearly than anything loud could have. “You shouldn’t have made the mistake at all.”

Juhoon’s jaw tightened. “I can fix it.”

“I’m not asking if you can fix it, I’m asking why you made it.”

“I told you—”

“You’re not listening.” The words landed fast.

“I am,” Juhoon insisted, the restraint in his voice thinning.

“Then act like it.”

“Jae Won. Juhoon. Let’s eat first,” his mother said gently, carefully placing another dish on the table as if the motion itself could settle things. “The food is getting cold.”

No one was in the mood to reach for it, not when the “head” of the family was still gazing at his son. “You knew the answer and still lost points. That means you weren’t thinking properly.”

“I was thinking,” Juhoon said, more firmly now. “I just didn’t explain it the way the teacher wanted.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Soobin straightened slightly in his seat.

“Juhoon,” his mother said quietly, a warning in her tone already too late. He took in how his father’s expression shifted, and his hand started to grip the newspaper beside him.

“Say that again.”

Juhoon swallowed, but didn’t look away this time. “I understood the problem,” he said, slower now, more controlled. “That should count for something.”

“It doesn’t,” his father replied immediately. “Not if you can’t present it correctly.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t know it.”

“It means you failed to show it.”

Failed.

Something in Juhoon’s chest tightened at how that word stung deeply. “I didn’t fail.”

“You came second, you lost points on something you claim to understand. What would you call that?”

“Enough! The sound of his grandmother's palms slamming on the table was what finally broke the standoff. “He did well.”

His father didn’t look at her. “He could have done better.”

“He always does his best.”

“And his best should be first,” his father replied.

“Dad, it’s just three points. He’ll beat Minseok next time.”

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?” Soobin asked, the casual tone not quite hiding the challenge nor the anger he was starting to feel.

“The issue is that he’s becoming comfortable making mistakes.”

“I’m not comfortable, I said I’d fix it!”

“Fixing it after the fact doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Why doesn’t it?” Juhoon pressed, his voice rising and slightly breaking. “If I know what I did wrong and improve—”

“You shouldn’t be making mistakes like that to begin with.”

“I’m not perfect.”

His mother grabbed his thigh below the table immediately after his scream, barely feeling it. “That’s enough.”

His father’s gaze didn’t waver. “No. Say that again.”

“I’m not perfect.”

“And you think that excuses you?”

“I’m not making excuses,” he snapped, the control finally slipping. “I’m explaining.”

“You’re defending failure.”

“I didn’t fail!”

Soobin let out a breath under his breath. “Alright—okay—everyone just—”

“Stay out of it,” his father cut in. Soobin fell quiet, jaw tightening.

“You’re arguing with me over three points,” his unsteady voice was bothering him, maybe even more than the score itself. “Three points. I still did well.”

“Well, it isn’t enough.”

“It should be.”

“On my roof, it isn’t,” he finally slammed the newspaper on his shoulder.

“Kim Jae Won! That’s enough.”

“You think the world will reward you for ‘well’?” his father went on, completely ignoring his mother's pleas. “You think effort and intention matter when results don’t match?”

“I said I’d do better.”

“You should already be better.”

There it was again, that same sentence carrying the same weight his brother and he had heard six years ago. Instead of making him stronger, he could feel how it threw everything off balance.

“I am trying,” he said, and this time it wasn’t controlled.

“Trying is meaningless if this is the result.”

Juhoon’s grip tightened against the table. “Then what do you want from me?”

His mother’s hand pressed more firmly against his thigh, the unplanned question even taking him off guard. “Juhoon—”

“What do you want?” he repeated. “Because I study. I correct my mistakes. I—”

“I want you to stop falling short,” 

“I’m not falling short.”

“You are.”

His grandmother shifted forward slightly. “That’s enough, you’re pushing him too hard.”

“He needs to be pushed. Those kids you hang out with are a bad influence.”

“He’s already pushing himself because of you.”

“And it’s not enough.”

Juhoon didn’t respond this time. His hand had curled into itself at his side, fingers tightening until they trembled, impossible to still. He kept his head lowered as soon as he felt his vision blur, trying to blink away the burn behind his eyes that only sharpened. His chest felt too tight, which left no room to inhale properly or speak.

“Finish eating. And then study.”

Juhoon didn’t remember finishing dinner; everything was a blur. The next few days passed without anything visibly changing, but that feeling didn’t go away from every single sentence that came from his father’s mouth. At school, he showed more than he realized.

He missed answering a question he knew, the teacher's encouragement to make him participate, and even playing soccer with his friends. They couldn't help but notice that they had a hunch even before they knew what had happened, thanks to the strong bond the five boys shared. He had to intervene and brush it off as something temporary, but it wasn’t. It was obvious.

By the last class of the day, Juhoon stared at his notebook without really seeing it, the lines of writing blurring just slightly as his thoughts drifted somewhere else, as well as his classmates once they heard the bell.

“Juhoon?” A hand on his shoulder reached him, looking up. You stood beside his desk at a decent distance, your quiet presence existing with it.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice slower than usual. “You’re still here.”

“So are you. The bell rang, and your friends didn’t want to bother you.”

He glanced around briefly. “…Right.”

You shifted slightly, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag before loosening again. “I was going to leave, but…” Your voice trailed off, and for a moment, it seemed like you might take it back.

“But?” he asked, more out of habit than anything else.

He could see that you were physically torn between saying something and not saying anything, until he finally noticed in your eyes that matched what you were about to say. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said automatically.

“You don’t look like it.” His expression couldn’t be hidden anymore, opting for letting out a quiet breath.

“It’s nothing,” he added, softer this time.

“…It’s nothing,” you said gently. For a moment, it seemed like that would be the end of it—that he would let the silence close back in, let you take the hint and leave him, he didn’t think you would step a little closer, reinforcing your presence.

“You don’t have to tell me, I just… thought I’d ask.”

The gentle tone soothed something within him. The lack of pressure and how you were already giving him a way out made the tension on his shoulder ease. He stared at the page a second longer, the tips of his fingers following the route of a random line he drew mid-class.

“I came second.”

You blinked. “Second?”

“Overall.”

“That’s really good. Congrats!”

He shook his head, almost immediately. “No. It’s not.”

“ Oh... Why not?”

His fingers curled slightly against the paper. “…I lost by three points.”

“That’s still—”

“I shouldn’t have.” His cheeks warmed in embarrassment as his words cut through the space between you. He exhaled slowly to try to calm himself. “I knew the answer, I just didn’t write it properly.”

You didn’t interrupt. “I checked it, more than once, and I thought it was clear enough… It wasn’t.”

A small piece of chocolate appeared before his eyes; he glanced at the girl holding it, and she simply gave him a gentle smile, inviting him to take it. He couldn't refuse.

“…My father said it was carelessness,” he went on, the words coming more steadily now while playing with the candy. “That I shouldn’t be making mistakes and how they shouldn’t happen at all. He even said trying doesn’t matter, not if the result isn’t right.”

The faintest crease formed between his brows, and easing them once the chocolate ended up in his mouth. “And I thought I did it right. I checked it, I really did.”

That particular sentence made your chest pull at how his words wavered. You stepped just a little closer. “That doesn’t make it nothing. Three points don’t erase that.”

He let out a small, breathless sound—almost a laugh. “It does to him.”

“…And to you?” His gaze stayed fixed on the notebook, but he wasn’t seeing it anymore. The question went directly to his heart. Has he ever thought about himself?

“…I don’t know, I just—” he exhales unevenly. “I keep thinking about it.”

“The question?”

“The way I wrote it,” he corrected. “What I should’ve changed. If I had just rewritten the last line—”

His fingers tightened again. “I’ve gone over it so many times,” he said, almost under his breath. “I can’t stop.”

“You care a lot,” the few seconds of silence when you said that gently.

“I have to.”

“Or you want to?” That made him pause; his thoughts seemed to catch on something that didn’t already have an answer ever since he joined your conversation.

“I don’t know…” 

“Well, it’s just three points,” you said, your voice light but steady. “But you’re acting like you lost everything.”

He let out a slow breath, shoulders lowering just slightly. “It feels like it.”

When he finally looked up, his expression had shifted—his usual, more put-together.

“…Sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong… If it’s any consolation, you have a bright future ahead of you, even if you came in second. To me, you’re more than just a place in a ranking.” You interrupted gently.

“Thank you,” he said instead, a small smile tugging at his lips. You nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile that brought a slight warmth to his heart.

“Anytime.” Juhoon glanced back down at his notebook, straightening slightly.

“I should go,” he said, his tone more composed now. Familiar again.

You stepped back, giving him space as he gathered his things.

“Yeah, me too.” He slung his bag over his shoulder, walking away with a more relaxed pace, pausing just briefly before turning.

“Wanna grab a cup of tteokbokki before going to our homes?” The offer made you open your eyes in surprise, which quickly turned into a sincere smile that spread to your face.

“I’ll love that, Juhoon.”

September 12th, 1963 || age: 17

Time had a quiet way of slipping past you before you could properly hold onto it. Days folded into weeks, and weeks marked not by dates, but by small changes you only noticed when you stopped to think about them.

Wonhee and Keonho were no longer something whispered about between classes; they were real now, obvious in the way they hold hands while walking to class, in how her voice softened when she said his name. Yunah had started seeing someone, too, though she pretended it wasn’t anything serious, even as she spent longer fixing her hair in the mornings.

And you were still exactly where you had been for three years. Still noticing him, always carrying something that hadn’t quite settled into anything certain. At this point, you’d think your feelings for him were all too obvious—you couldn’t hide how your face flushed when he smiled at you as he walked through the kitchen of his house while you were having a little chat with his grandmother, or the times he helped you with your groceries when he saw you arrive with his mom after a trip to the market

The only difference now was how it felt.

At first, it had been quiet in the easiest way, like something that didn’t need to be explained to be understood. It settled beside you without effort, familiar and unassuming, never asking to be questioned. You had let it exist like that, untouched, because it felt safer not to look too closely.

But somewhere in between ordinary moments, it changed.

Not all at once—at least not in a way you could name. It slipped out of place gradually, as if a rhythm started to fall out of time until the shift was too obvious to ignore. What had once felt steady began to waver, rising and falling without warning, leaving you grasping for a feeling that no longer held still.

There were small things. How his gaze would catch on you, lingering for a few seconds, that, in your heart, almost meant something. How the conversations brushed against depth, only to cut short before they could reach it. Each moment felt like the edge of a story that never quite began.

And that was the hardest part—the almost.

Because sometimes, it felt real. To think he saw you in a way no one else did and believed there was something quietly unfolding between you in an unspoken way. But just as quickly, it would disappear, leaving you questioning whether it had ever been there at all.

You were left suspended between those two versions of him—one who noticed, and one who didn’t—and neither stayed long enough to be certain. And in the space between them, doubt grew louder than anything else, until even your own memories felt unreliable, as if they belonged more to hope than to truth.

“See you on Monday!” Yunah waved her hand brightly. Wonhee was no longer with the two of you since she had an after-school date with Keonho. “I’ll tell you two how the date went.”

“Hope you kiss that person this time,” you said loud enough for her to hear and blush. “Oh, God. The rain had started earlier than expected.” 

It began with a thin drizzle that was barely noticeable unless you paid attention to how it darkened the ground beneath your shoes.

“I’m glad my mom told me to bring an umbrella,” the tallest opened the object, hugging you tenderly before gently walking away.

Your feet quickly carried you along the usual route, though a small detour was demanded by your stomach’s quiet insistence, pausing for a snack before continuing.

At the bus stop, you slipped beneath the shelter just as the rain began to fall harder, shifting your weight as droplets gathered along the roof’s edge and fell in soft, uneven intervals. The scent of petrichor rose to meet you, planting a smile on your face.

There weren’t many people left; most had already gone, disappearing into the weather with hurried steps and lowered heads. Just a few remained scattered along the road. The sound of footsteps approached hurriedly, alerting you enough to turn to where the sound was coming from. And there he was.

Juhoon slowed slightly when he reached the shelter, brushing a hand lightly through his damp hair as he stepped under the small overhang. A few droplets clung stubbornly to the ends, catching the dim light before slipping away. Neither of you spoke, just a small bow from both sides.

“You’re still here.”

“My bus hasn’t come yet,” you replied softly, the usual tone that came out unconsciously when he was around.

He nodded once. “I see.”

The rain filled the silence between you. He stood with his usual posture, his attention drifting somewhere ahead rather than toward you, just like you were doing.

A stronger gust of wind pushed the rain further in, forcing you to step back slightly at the same time he reached into his bag. The hairs on your skin stood on end, and your hands did their best to warm them, too focused on that to notice the umbrella that stretched wide above him.

“You can stand here,” the offer came with him shifting it slightly in your direction, inviting you to step closer.

The space between you disappeared almost instantly; the umbrella wasn’t large enough to keep a comfortable distance, not if both of you wanted to stay dry. Your shoulder brushed lightly against his, and this was probably the closest you two were in three years.

“Thank you,” 

He nodded. “It’s fine.”

The rain continued to fall around you, louder now against the fabric above that wrapped around the moment. It was almost impossible not to feel the warmth of him beside you, close enough to notice, but not close enough to reach. Sadly.

Your fingers tightened slightly around the strap of your bag.

Say something.

The thought came to your head like a whisper. You could.

It wouldn’t be that hard. Just a few words—simple, honest. Enough to shift whatever this was into one that didn’t leave you guessing every time you looked at him.

“Juhoon, I—”

The words stopped, and to your surprise, it wasn’t because you couldn’t say them; you actually could. It was how his gaze focused on the road ahead where the bus would eventually appear. Even when he looked at you, there was no sign that he was waiting for anything more than the bus to arrive, clearly having no space opened for you.

The realization came quietly and landed harder than you expected on the back of your head, your words slipping away just as quickly as they had formed. “…Do you think it’ll be late?” you asked instead.

He glanced at the road briefly. “Maybe. The rain usually slows it down.”

“Oh.”

“That happens sometimes,” You nodded anyway, gaze dropping slightly to your partially dirty shoes. In a way, you couldn’t wrap your head around how the quiet that once felt shared even without words, it stretched between you unevenly, pressing in on your chest in a way that made it harder to breathe.

You were so, so close, and yet it felt like you were the only one standing there whose thoughts were eating her alive. The rain softened slightly, though the sky remained unchanged as the grey clouds didn’t seem ready to clear anytime soon.

All these years, you lived saying, “Maybe it was nothing,” although right now, where you didn’t feel an ounce of willingness on his part to know you beyond the dinners both of your families shared, the small tea parties with Miss. Kang, it felt like you should truly stop using that phrase. 

Surprisingly, your father had been right: A face can catch your attention, but a person keeps it. And suddenly, you weren’t sure what was being kept.

The bus lights appeared in the distance, clearer as it approached. Juhoon adjusted his grip on the umbrella slightly, stepping forward just enough to guide both of you closer to the edge of the road. The movement was considerate in the smallest way, just not enough to feel like more.

The doors opened with a soft mechanical sound. Juhoon signaled you to step in first. “Thank you,” 

He gave a small nod. “Of course.”

And that was it. You climbed the steps, your fingers brushing lightly against the damp railing as you moved inside. There was an empty seat by the window—your usual one—and without thinking, you slid into it, your bag resting neatly on your lap. A second later, he took the seat beside you, close enough that your shoulders nearly touched when the bus shifted forward again.

The window beside you was streaked with rain, blurring the outside world into shifting shapes. You rested your gaze there, watching as droplets chased each other down the glass, merging and separating without ever really stopping. Beside you, Juhoon adjusted slightly, the faint rustle of fabric breaking the quiet. 

“Here.” his voice caught your attention, watching him holding out a small tangerine as a simple gesture.

Still, your chest tightened slightly. “…Thank you,” you said, accepting it carefully.

He nodded once, already pulling his hand back, already moving on as if the moment had ended the second it happened.

“It’s from home,” he added after a beat. “My grandmother bought them.”

You glanced down at it, the bright color sitting softly against your palm. “They look good.”

“They are.” A gentle smile spread across her face, making you smile as well. You peeled it slowly, the scent rising faintly into the air. Naturally, you separated one slice, then hesitated for a second before holding it out toward him.

“Do you want—?”

He shook his head lightly. “You can have it. Grandma bought plenty.” That was it. That briefly friendly tone appeared.

“Oh… okay.” The slice was sweet, slightly tart on your tongue, but your attention wasn’t really on the taste. It drifted beside you instead, catching on the quiet shift in Juhoon’s posture. He hadn’t said anything after that.

He just sat there with his shoulder low; what you did notice was how his eyes blinked slowly, an action you often did when you were trying to keep up with something your body had already decided.

When they finally closed, it just happened; his head landed on your shoulder. You paused mid-eating at the warmth of him resting there, his hair brushed lightly against your neck as he slept without realizing it.

Your fingers tightened gently around the remaining slices in your hand, the peel crinkling faintly as the bus rolled forward. After what her grandmother had told you, you didn't move.

The concern rants about how she saw him stay up long after everyone else had gone to sleep, books spread out in the dim light. How it wasn’t just about school, not really, but about becoming someone his father could be proud of. The kind of effort that didn’t leave room for softness, or hesitation, or anything that might get in the way, like living a normal teenage life.

His behaviour made sense now to you, how carefully he carried himself and kept everything contained, neat and controlled, until he was with his friends, where he let himself loose to take a breath.

Your gaze drifted back to him, to the faint rise and fall of his shoulders, to the unguarded softness resting across his face while he slept. It was different like this. Lighter, almost. Whatever he carried during the day had been set down, if only for a moment.

You let yourself take it in, knowing it wasn’t something you were meant to see. Knowing that once he woke up, it would slip away, replaced by that familiar distance he wore so easily. And somehow, that didn’t make this moment feel any less real.

If anything, it made it more fragile, which was held only in the space between who he was for the world and who he allowed himself to be when no one was looking. And that was enough.

DUAL POV

Juhoon didn’t mean to come this way.

If anyone had asked, he would’ve said he was just walking—clearing his head after too many hours bent over his desk, loosening the quiet tension that felt too heavy on his shoulders whenever he stayed in one place for too long and had to listen to his father's constant speech about perfection. Lately, the air of his house had made him feel smaller than usual, and he didn’t care to name, especially when his father was home. So he walked.

It wasn’t unusual for him to take the longer route, to let his feet decide instead of his thoughts. Still, he knew this path wasn’t one he usually chose. It pulled him further out than expected, already past the familiar houses with their dim porch lights and the small shops already shuttered for the evening. At some point, he realized he didn’t quite know where he was.

That thought should have bothered him, but it didn’t; he actually felt a kind of relief.

He kept going, the rhythm of his steps slowing as the noise of the city thinned behind him. The wind came with a soft rustle ahead, and when he stepped onto a stretch of fallen leaves, the sound followed. Then the path opened. A lone ginkgo tree stood at the edge of a small clearing, its branches stretching wide against a pale, fading sky. Its leaves had already begun to fall, scattering across the ground in uneven patches of gold. 

Juhoon slowed once he realized there was someone there. At first, it was only a shape—a figure near the base of the tree, partially hidden by the slight dip in the ground. But as he stepped closer, the outline became so familiar that it made him stop without realizing it.

It was you, looking smaller here.

Not physically, but you fit into the space around you. The open clearing stretched wide, and there you were, kneeling beneath the tree as if you belonged to it more than the world beyond it. The wind moved gently through your loose hair, lifting a few strands before letting them fall again. Your hands were busy with something in front of you. He hadn’t expected you here, of all places.

His mind made him consider turning back; it would’ve been easy since you didn’t even realize he was there, yet destiny didn’t want it that way, forcing him to step forward. This time, the sound of leaves beneath his shoes gave him away, and when he saw your face, he couldn’t believe how his heart stopped.

There was no shock on your face, only a small pause; maybe his presence had arrived a second too early, but he didn’t feel entirely unwelcome. He was never good at reading emotions; that was his grandma's talent. He was grateful to pinpoint a sadness that didn’t ask to be seen resting beneath your face.

It sat gently in your expression, in the softness of your eyes, in the stillness of your lips. And somehow, it showed you in a light he hadn’t noticed before, or didn’t want to. A kind of beauty that didn’t try to be anything at all, and maybe that was why it moved him enough to make his ear warm up.

“Juhoon.”

“I didn’t know you came here.”

“I do,” you said simply. His gaze drifted, almost without permission, settling on the ground in front of you while his body didn’t know what to do. “Do you want to sit with me?”

Then he noticed it—a small blanket spread beneath you with enough space left beside you for him to sit, and he doubted only for a second before sitting down. Once he was next to you, two small markers that rested beneath the tree caught his eye. Probably, you sensed his curiosity since he couldn’t look away from them. “My family is here,” you added. He searched for the pattern in those markers—two crosses side by side—and could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Are you alright?”

“I am now. Yes.” The sentence came easily. You had already turned back by then, your attention returning to what you had been doing, hand brushing gently over the ground, moving a few fallen leaves aside with quiet care. He didn’t interrupt; he wasn’t supposed to disrupt.

After a moment, you reached into your bag, recognizing the binyeo in a second once you pulled it out. You had worn it for as long as he could remember—three years, maybe more, the fading light softly making it shine as usual, even brighter as you held it between your fingers.

Juhoon’s eyes followed the movement without thinking.

“This was from her,” you said quietly. “My mother.”

Carefully, you leaned forward and adjusted it where it rested, your fingers steady for a person who has been doing it over and over until it became easy, like a small ritual. “She liked things to be neat, said it made things feel in place.”

Juhoon stayed still, feeling how you were trying your very best to swallow that knot in your throat. “My brother used to tease her for it, he said she cared more about how things looked than how they felt, but he always let her fix his collar before he left. He was a student,” you said after a moment.

Your hand stilled for just a second.

“He thought he understood everything.” The corner of your lips curved, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “They died during the April Revolution.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it; it was better if it stayed lowered, fixed somewhere between the ground and the small space you had carefully cleared, so he couldn’t see the small tears forming in your eyes.

“He went out that day,” you continued quietly. “Said he was just going to see what was happening… my mother followed him because she knew deep down he lied.”

Juhoon felt his chest heavier once again as he kept listening. “She found him, before anything happened.” Your fingers brushed over the edge of the marker, lingering there. “And when it did… she didn’t let go. They were both brought back here.”

Juhoon swallowed lightly, his hands resting against his knees, unmoving. He searched for something—anything—that felt appropriate, and that could sit beside what you had just given him.

But nothing came; this was the first time he couldn’t ask a question.

“I see.” The words sounded small, even to him. You nodded, like that was enough, and it was in a way, knowing the lack of comfort he would give.

Neither of you spoke; he watched you adjust the binyeo again, though it didn’t need fixing, your fingers smoothing over it before pulling back. “They used to argue a lot, about small things. My brother always said he’d leave first,” you continued. “That he wouldn’t stay in a place that didn’t listen or feel understood. But he didn’t. because we all knew he was playing around.”

Your lips pressed together slightly, deciding to look at him as one tear finally dropped from the corner of your eye, wetting your cheek. “He stayed.”

Juhoon nodded once, though he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to. Deep in his mind, he wanted to say something, but asking what it had been after or how long you had been coming here seemed inappropriate. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask how you had carried it all this time and still smile to your friends so prettily and act like everything was fine with her grandma as he watched you from a distance.

The questions hovered somewhere at the edge of his thoughts, and they didn’t even reach his voice. Instead, he sat there, observing something he didn’t know how to step into.  After a while, he shifted slightly on the spot.

“I should go,” It came out gently. You didn’t look surprised.

“Okay.” Contrary to his tone, yours was dry.

“Take care,” he said instead.

You nodded. “You too.”

He stood, brushing a few leaves from his clothes before stepping back onto the path. The sound of them shifting under his shoes followed him as he walked away, quieter with each step. 

He didn’t look back, but just like anything related to you, the image stayed with him. The tree, the scattered gold leaves. Especially, you, sitting there with careful hands and a voice that carried more than it showed. The words from his grandma knocked some sense when he was far enough from you, realizing how little he had actually seen the whole you.

On the other side, you were never simply quiet—not in the way people found easy to understand. There was a depth to your life that resisted being seen, that was sadly shaped by loss and held together with quiet discipline to not show it to the only family you had. You had learned how to carry it without letting it show, folding it into softer expressions, small smiles that asked for nothing in return.

It was easier that way, for others to accept, and for you to move through the world without being asked questions you didn’t have the strength to answer.

He had seen that version of you—the gentler outline, the one that didn’t trouble anyone. Perhaps because it was all you allowed. Or perhaps because anything more would have required him to linger in a place he didn’t know how to stand in.

But there was nothing simple about you. You had endured the kind of loss that reshapes everything, leaving no visible fracture and yet altering the weight of every day that followed. You had learned how to live beside it, how to return to it, how to honor it without letting it consume what remained of you. And beneath all of that careful composure, there had been the faintest hope that someone might one day recognize it—not as something to mend, but as something to remain beside.

Under the ginkgo tree, you did not move.

The wind slipped into the space he had left, gentler than his presence had been, brushing against your face before passing through the branches above.

This place had always belonged to you—to you and to them. Tucked away from the rest of the world, it held everything you could not carry anywhere else. Without meaning to, he had found it. He had seen a piece of what you kept here, had listened as you gave voice to a version of you that you rarely allowed to surface.

There was kindness in him, you knew it. But kindness did not always know how to remain when things grew heavier or when silence stretched and asked for more than quiet company.

Your gaze shifted to the space beside you, feeling more tears rolling down your cheek.

Once, you might have imagined it differently—might have believed that if he opened enough like before and how his grandma wished, something in you would turn toward him without resistance, that the distance between you could soften so it can become steadier in hopes of being something more.

So when the space remained unchanged, you let it. 

JUHOON's POV

Considering how much the country had suffered in recent years, including outside his home, he couldn't avoid conversations that emphasized responsibility.

They came from everywhere now.

From the crackling radio his father listened to every evening, to teachers who lingered a little too long on civics lessons once their words slipped from memorization to more pointed ones, to older students who spoke in lowered voices near the gates, glancing over their shoulders like the air itself might carry their thoughts elsewhere.

Responsibility.

It used to feel like a distant word that was only meant for adults, for men who had already decided what kind of lives they would lead. Not for someone still in uniform, still worrying about test scores and neat handwriting.

But lately, he noticed it by how his father folded the newspaper more sharply than before, in the pauses between sentences at dinner. In the way his brother spoke about the future, one that wasn’t abstract and unavoidable.

And, sadly, he started to see that in himself.

Juhoon adjusted his grip on his pen, the tip hovering just above his notebook as the classroom buzzed faintly around him, a habit he had acquired. The teacher’s voice could be perfectly heard from the front, explaining something about economic recovery, but his attention was snagged on a single phrase.

“…the responsibility of the younger generation…”

He saw how a few students straightened their backs at that, while others looked down. His pen touched the paper again, writing without hesitation: Responsibility meant direction. Hence, direction meant decisions. And decisions meant there was less room for anything else.

“Hey.”

The whisper came from his left. Juhoon didn’t look up immediately.

“Hey,” the voice repeated, insistently.

He finally turned slightly. Keonho leaned back in his chair just enough to avoid the teacher’s direct line of sight, eyebrows raised.

“You’ve been writing the same line for the past minute.” Juhoon glanced down. He didn’t even realize that

“I’m listening,”

“Sure thing,” Keonho corrected, unimpressed. “Such an attentive student.”

From behind them, a soft snort slipped out.

“Leave him alone,” James murmured. “If he starts talking, we’ll all get in trouble.”

Juhoon didn’t turn fully this time, but he could picture the expression anyway—the relaxed posture, the half-smile that never quite looked forced. James was like that.

Where Keonho filled silence with noise, James would either let it sit or join. Where Juhoon measured his words, James didn’t seem to measure them at all, yet somehow never said the wrong thing. It made people gravitate toward him without trying.

“See?” Keonho whispered. “Even he thinks you’re too serious.”

“I didn’t say that,” James replied lightly.

“You didn’t have to.”

The teacher’s chalk hit the board a little harder than necessary. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

Keonho straightened immediately. James lowered his gaze, the picture of innocence. Juhoon didn’t move. After a moment, the teacher turned back to the board, the lesson continuing as if nothing had happened.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes returning to his notebook, the word alone in a line: Responsibility.

After school, the courtyard filled like it always did. And despite being used to that movement to shake off the weight of the day, it felt different.

“Are you coming or not?” Keonho tossed the ball lightly between his hands, watching him.

“For what?” Juhoon asked.

“The river. Just for a bit. Seonghyeon and Martin can’t make it because of practice.”

“I have work to finish.”

“You always have work to finish. Come live a little.”

“That’s because I don’t leave it unfinished.”

Keonho groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“Then go without me.”

“I would,” he said, then paused. “But it’s more fun when you’re there.”

Juhoon didn’t respond right away. From the side, James spoke again, softer this time. “Come for a little while,” he said. “You can still study after.” 

The kind offer made him hesitate. It would be easy to say no; it was easier than considering it. The way James said it made the refusal feel like an answer he couldn’t say. “Not long,” he said finally.

Keonho lit up immediately. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“It shouldn’t have been,” James added under his breath. Juhoon ignored that.

The walk to the river wasn’t long. As usual, Keonho talked the most—about a teacher he disliked, about a rumor he swore was true, about a plan he had already abandoned halfway through explaining, and most importantly, his next date with his girlfriend.

James listened, occasionally adding something small that somehow made the story better or complemented his ideas. Juhoon walked beside them quietly.

“…and then she actually said—” Keonho stopped mid-sentence. “Wait.”

“What?” James asked.

Keonho nodded toward the path ahead. “Look.”

Juhoon followed his gaze without thinking. A group of girls walked ahead, their uniforms moving softly with each step, voices blending into the late afternoon air.

He recognized them by the uniforms, more than anything. Dark skirts moving softly, white sleeves catching the light as they walked. The whole group moved in a pattern he had seen from a distance more times than he could count.

Then, her.

It wasn’t planned; the recognition just happened in such a quiet and immediate way, adjusting into place before he had the chance to question it. But she wasn’t where he expected her to be—not slightly behind or tucked into the edges of the group the way he had unconsciously placed her in his mind.

She was in the middle of it, leaning in as one of her friends spoke, her head tipping back when she laughed, the sound too soft to reach him, and it was clear enough by how her shoulders loosened. One of the girls nudged her, and she nudged back without hesitation this time, something easy and unguarded in the motion.

Her hands weren’t held close to her chest either. One moment, she gestured lightly with them as she spoke; the next, she adjusted the books at her side, only to forget about them again as the conversation pulled her in.

There was a rhythm to her he hadn’t seen before, an uncontained lightness.

She turned her head quickly—too quick to be measured—and said something that made the others react all at once. Even from where he stood, he could see how their steps slowed, and their attention gathered around her instead of passing through.

It didn’t feel like she was trying, and that was the part that caught him.

There was no effort in it—no awareness of how she might be seen. Just the certainty of someone who had forgotten to hold herself back. He watched a second longer than he meant to; the version he had built of her, without realizing it, broken into pieces.

And for a brief moment, that unsettled something in him. In his chest.

“You’re staring,” Keonho sang with the sole purpose of teasing him.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not,” Juhoon repeated, sharper this time. James glanced between them, then back ahead.

“…She’s in our class, right? The one in the middle,” he asked casually.

Keonho nodded. “Yeah. That's Y/N, the quiet one.”

“Mm.” That was it; there wasn’t any exaggeration, just acknowledgment that made Juhoon more aware of it, not less. “She doesn’t look that quiet to me.”

He looked away first, only to find James staring at her as if he were in a daze with a small smile on his lips, a state from which Juhoon made sure to snap him out of with a gentle nudge.

It didn’t mean anything.

They reached the river shortly after, the sound of water softly cutting through the last remnants of conversation. Keonho dropped his bag first, already crouching near the edge to check the temperature. James followed more slowly, hands in his pockets, before he finally sat down on a flat stone. Juhoon stood a moment longer, his bag hanging in his hand, to find a clean enough space to put it.

“You’re doing it again,” Keonho said without looking up.

“Doing what?”

“Thinking like you’re about to solve the country’s problems.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

James let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.

Juhoon exhaled, finally setting his bag down. “…It’s just…” 

“What?”

“Things aren’t the same,” he said instead.

“That’s because we’re not fourteen anymore,” Keonho replied immediately. “Of course they’re not the same.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Juhoon looked toward the water, the reflection of the fading sky shifting with each ripple. “Everyone keeps talking about what comes next, like it’s already decided.”

“…And?” he asked.

“And I don’t think it is.” Keonho leaned back on his hands, quietly thinking about what he could say. 

“So decide it yourself.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“There are expectations,” he said finally.

“From who?”

“You know who.”

Keonho clicked his tongue. “Yeah. Sadly.”

“You’re not wrong,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a choice.” James tilted his head slightly, gaze still on the water.

He frowned faintly. “It feels like I don’t.”

“Then maybe you’re only looking at the choices you think you’re allowed to make. Have you ever truly lived?”

The river moved the same way it always had, indifferent to everything else, comforting the silence that sentence created. Eventually, Keonho stood, brushing the dust from his hands.

“Alright,” he said. “If we stay any longer, he’ll start thinking again.”

“I never stopped,” Juhoon replied, smiling briefly. Keonho splashed a little water on him.

“Exactly my point.”

James stood too, stretching slightly with a groan. He removed his shoes before dipping his feet into the water.

“You should head back,” he said to Juhoon. “You’ll worry about it otherwise, and your dad will be pissed. Maybe on the weekend we can all hang out.”

He wasn’t wrong; it didn’t take long for him to pick up his bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Keonho said. “Try not to become a government official overnight.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“I know. That’s why it’s funny.” James just smiled, splashing more water on the youngest of the three.

On the walk back, the quiet returned. His thoughts didn’t scatter as they usually did—they narrowed on words. Responsibility, future, expectation—the words lined up too easily now, slotting into place as if they had always been waiting for him to notice them.

By the time he reached his street, the sky had darkened enough for the first lights to flicker on behind windows, another three words: Home. Routine. Structure. It should have eased him like usual. Instead, when he passed the low wall, he slowed.

Across the street, the gate stood half-open. A faint light spilled from inside, catching on movement. He didn’t mean to look, still, even though he could only see her out of the corner of his eye, he did it anyway.

She stood in the yard, her back turned this time, sleeves rolled just enough as she adjusted something near the entrance. It was either a box, maybe, or a stack of books. Her movements were casual and unhurried. He saw how she paused, her hands resting lightly against the edge as if she had forgotten what she was doing—or maybe she was just thinking. He couldn’t tell, and he shouldn’t have been watching long enough to wonder.

Juhoon shifted his grip on his bag, looking away when he sensed her gaze and kept walking. That was what made sense, and that was what he did—but not before his gaze flickered back once more, resting on her without reason, just taking a look at how the last rays of sunshine made her shine.

Then he turned fully, stepping through his own gate without hesitation this time.

Inside, everything felt the same. A difference was that his mother was next to his grandmother, drinking what he supposed was tea, the usual faint rustle of paper confirming his father's presence, and the familiar expectation fell back into place as if it had never left. His brother was nowhere to be found, his work consuming him until nightfall.

While seated at his desk with his books spread neatly in front of him, a couple of hours later, he found himself pausing more than usual. The material wasn’t difficult. He understood it completely, although his mind had different plans; his focus slipped only for a second at a time. It was either a movement outside, the sentence James had said, or the figure standing in fading light before.

Juhoon closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. This wasn’t like him. It couldn’t become a habit.

He picked up his pen again to force himself back into rhythm. The words came easier after that. Still, somewhere between one line and the next, his thoughts drifted again, not toward responsibility and the uncertain future, but to the simple realization that someone could exist so close, just across the street, and remain completely outside of his world. One look at his window showed that her bedroom window was fully open to let the night in.

She stood there, brushing her hair in absent strokes, the radio hummed “Ranch Lady in the Straw Hat” by Park Jae Ran, and she followed it without thinking, combining a small sway of her shoulders with a turn of her wrist, creating a rhythm that belonged to her. It wasn’t a performance meant for anyone, and maybe that was what held him there—the pure way she seemed to exist entirely for herself in that moment.

He hadn’t meant to notice her, simply doing a passing glance that was supposed to be dissolved as quickly as it came. However, a force prevented him from looking away as easily as he should have. He caught himself observing the details without understanding why: how the light reflected off her hair, the vacant look in her eyes, the slight movement of her lips, as if she were half-remembering the words. It was nothing, really. Less than nothing.

Nevertheless, it tugged some strings somewhere inside him, softly and without invitation.

When she slipped into a small, unthinking sway, losing the rhythm for a second before catching it again, the corner of his mouth lifted before he could stop it. The smile was brief, almost accidental, and soon he looked down, not long after, a little too quickly. Noticing her at all had already felt like more than it should have been.

Still, when his eyes returned to the page, it was too late. His focus slipped once and for all, catching on the same line without moving forward. There was a faint and unfamiliar feeling sitting somewhere in his chest—nothing strong enough to name, just distracting him from what was important. He ignored it, or tried to, though it made it hard to forget entirely.

At first, nothing seemed different. The mornings came as they always had, taking the same walk to school, past the same voices gathering at the gates, into the same rhythm of footsteps brushing against pavement. You slipped into your place in the day, greeting your friends with an easy familiarity, taking your seat, smoothing your hands over your notebook as you had done a hundred times before, and, of course, talking with them before the classes started.

Everything remained exactly as it had been, and yet, deep inside, you had gone quietly still. You didn’t look for him in that instinctive, unthinking way you used to, when your attention would drift without permission, and your eyes would search for him before you even knew you were hoping. Now your gaze stayed where you placed it, anchored to the small ordinary things that asked nothing of you. 

The unusual part was that you didn’t decide to stop; there was no moment of refusal, no conscious turning away. It was only later that you realized the pull was gone.

And in its absence, there was something unfamiliar that managed to balance the softness you hadn’t expected to come with it. It was so easy that it felt almost undeserved, as though love at seventeen should have left something heavier behind that tarry and ached to demand to be noticed. But it didn’t. It slipped away from you gently, and you let it go without ever once turning your head.

“Are you feeling alright?” Wonhee asked one morning, leaning in slightly as she studied your face.

You glanced up, pen still in hand, with a soft smile on your face. “I am.”

“You’ve been strange.”

“... I’m always strange?”

“I know, but it’s... strange,” she said, unconvinced.

Yunah, who had been quietly flipping through her book, looked between you both before speaking. “She’s studying.”

Wonhee frowned. “She always studies, more than usual though.”

“Not like this,” Yunah repeated, echoing her earlier tone with a subtle difference. She nodded toward your desk. “She hasn’t looked up once.”

You hadn’t realized that. “There are tests this week, and the one I messed up last time can be improved with this new one.”

“There’s always a test, but you will do great this time,” Wonhee muttered under her breath, the last part gentle.

You didn’t argue, just giving her another small smile because this time it felt like enough of an answer.

“Also, we have something for you.” Then Yunah reached into her bag and placed a white envelope on top of your book. Your name neatly written on it and their names just beneath, you could recognize the envelope anywhere.

“It’s nothing big,” she said. “Just take it.”

Wonhee nudged it a little closer to you at the sight of you staring at it in disbelief. “Don’t leave it there.”

Your throat tightened before you could respond.

“And—” Wonhee hesitated, then took your hand, her grip warm and clumsy. “Next time you go… to the ginkgo tree—”

Yunah picked up gently, “—would it be alright if we came with you?”

You nodded before you could trust your voice. The room blurred, and you quickly looked down, pretending to adjust the envelope in your hands.

“Hey,” Wonhee said quietly, not letting your hand go, “don’t cry here.”

You let out a small breath before leaning forward, wrapping your arms around them both. “Thank you.”

As you heard your classmates rushing to their desks, the moment had to be broken apart, quickly putting your envelope away in one of your books to clean up the tears that escaped from your eyes, right before the teacher arrived a few seconds later.

Months ago, there had always been an awareness that sat beneath your thoughts, mostly the sense of where he was in the room, of whether he had arrived yet, of whether he would speak. Now that it was gone, the absence had shape and made you return to your focused self.

And that also goes to how the hours passed, barely noticing when the bell rang. Wonhee saw you placing your things without thinking about it. 

“Wait—already?” Wonhee called after you, her voice trailing as she wrestled her bag into place. “You’re leaving first?”

“I’m not leaving first.”

“You are right now.”

You adjusted the strap on your shoulder and glanced at her. “I want to go to the library today.”

“Are you actually studying there?”

“Yes.”

Wonhee let out a long, exaggerated groan. “You’re becoming unbearable.”

Yunah laughed, and you did too, the sound slipping out easily. “It’s only for a few weeks. Come with me next time—I’ll explain Civics to you.”

Wonhee physically recoiled at that, clutching her chest like she’d been personally attacked. “Fine. I’m taking that offer, but I won’t enjoy it.”

“I’ll go too,” Yunah added once she caught her breath. “Just in case she tries to escape.”

“I’ll see you girls, tomorrow! ”

You stepped away before Wonhee could argue again, slipping out of the conversation and to the same after-class scenery: clusters of students, familiar paths worn into the space, and several conversations. Nothing had changed, except that the way you moved through it had.

Crossing without slowing down, your gaze stayed forward, not sparing a glance at the corridor where he sometimes stood or the field as you just walked.

The absence didn’t pull at you or demand notice. It stayed to exist without asking anything of you and closing on its own. You hadn’t decided to come here more often. It wasn’t a plan you’d made or a habit you’d set out to build. To your luck, the library had begun to feel less of an obligation.

You had always come when you needed to finish an assignment or just to be outside your house, knowing how passionate your dad got while painting the walls with music. The librarian would even say hello to you since you used to arrive when there wasn’t a clear reason, like today, only wanting to read a new book that your father thought you might like in English, so you can improve.

It would have been easier to follow your friends out through the gates to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, but after all the studying you had done, you wanted to be alone.

The library received you with the soft turn of pages, the occasional scrape of a chair, the low presence of other people existing alongside you without interruption. You took your usual seat by the window after picking up the two grammar books for the next test. At some point, the rest of the day slipped past without you noticing, too focused on reading your book.

“…Is this seat taken?”

The voice pulls you from the quiet gravity of your book, a soft interruption that feels almost out of place in the stillness. You look up, blinking once, twice—more out of surprise than confusion. It takes a second to place him, not because you don’t recognize him, but because you hadn’t expected to see him here, out of all places.

Zhao Yufan, one of Juhoon’s closest friends.

A flicker of guilt passes through you. You’ve seen him before—of course you have—but only caught your eye once or twice when he did something funny with his taller friend just to make everyone else crack a smile. 

Still, you can’t deny it. He’s handsome.

You envied the balance of his features—soft, but not unremarkable. Defined, but not in a way that feels intentional. As if he wasn’t shaped to impress, he happened to be. Your gaze lingers on his eyes briefly. They’re the first thing that holds you there—calm, slightly downturned at the corners, giving him a thoughtful look. There’s no sharpness to them, no edge meant to intimidate. Not when he’s looking at you with such gentle eyes, it’s almost impossible to read.

His skin is smooth, even, marked here and there with faint scars. His expression rests in that space between neutral and curious. And his lips, softly shaped and with balanced thickness, sit in a relaxed line that makes you wonder for a moment what they’d look like if he smiled without holding back, which probably might change everything.

His hair falls in uneven strands across his forehead, slightly tousled, which doesn’t look intentional. It suits him effortlessly, softening whatever distance his expression might have created, and makes him feel closer somehow.

“Um… no,” you say, realizing a second too late that he’s asked you something. Your eyes flick to the empty chair across from you, and you gesture toward it. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

He moves quietly, pulling the chair out with minimal sound, setting his books down with the same careful ease. You brace yourself for the awkwardness that usually follows in this type of situation, but it never quite arrives. He doesn’t look at you again right away,  just opens his book, settling into his work like your presence doesn’t complicate anything.

You return to your own pages, this time from the grammar book for your English class. Eventually, you both reach for the same reference book, causing your fingers to brush.

“Oh—sorry,” you said immediately, pulling your hand back.

“It’s okay,” he replied, just as quickly. None of you moved after that, then he shifted the book slightly toward you. “You can take it.”

“You were reaching for it too.”

“I can wait.”

“…Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Totally”

You hesitated before taking it, your fingers brushing the edge of the cover instead of his this time.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Before you can think too hard about it, you glance up again. “How about we read it together?”

He doesn’t react at first, but when you see his eyes lift from the page, meeting yours with surprise, his gaze shifts briefly to the book in your hands, then back to you.

“…Together?” he repeats, like he’s making sure he heard you right.

You nod, suddenly more aware of how this might sound than you were a moment ago. “It’s—uh, kind of annoying to wait for it. We’re probably looking for the same thing anyway.”

A small pause follows before he leans back slightly in his chair, considering it.

“…Okay,” he says.

You made a small space next to you for him to put his chair, and the book was placed between you two for him to see. Your shoulders don’t touch, but you’re aware of how close they could. The silence came back between you two as you both looked down at the same page, silently figuring out where to start.

“Were you in this section?” you ask, pointing lightly to a paragraph near the middle.

“Yeah,” he replies, leaning in just slightly. “That part explains it better than the earlier one.”

You hum in acknowledgment, eyes tracing the lines as you read. It’s easier this time, and now and then, one of you points something out like a sentence, a detail, or a correction.

The rest of the time slips with quiet exchanges, shared glances at the same lines, the occasional murmur of agreement. Later, you stop keeping track of whose hand moves first, whose voice breaks the silence. It blends easily and unforcedly, and turns out, Yufan was good at English, so he helped you with the pronunciation from time to time.

Deep down, you felt a little disappointed at how quickly time had flown by, even though you’d been able to relax with Yufan for at least ten minutes earlier. You closed your notebook with a small exhale, gathering your things.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes.”

He nodded, closing his own book. “Me too.”

You weren’t sure why you waited, but you did just long enough for him to stand. Outside, the air had cooled slightly, announcing how the night was getting closer.

“You stay late often?” he asked after a bit of walking side by side.

“Recently. I do that when it’s exam season.”

“Mm.”

“You?”

“Not usually,” he admitted. “But I had more to finish today.”

You nodded, adjusting your grip on your bag. “You’re good at focusing.”

You blinked. “What?”

“In there,” he gestured lightly toward the school behind you. “You didn’t look up once.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t realized. “…I guess.”

“It’s impressive.”

“It’s just studying.”

“Still. I can’t even sit still for a couple of minutes—I just pulled it off to match your energy.”

There’s something playful in his tone that catches you off guard. You let out a small laugh before you can stop it, and the way his expression shifts—quietly pleased—makes it feel like he’d been waiting for that.

“That’s very kind of you, Yufan.”

“James.”

“Mh?”

“Call me James. It’s easier.”

“But I like your name.”

That, apparently, surprises him enough for him to lift one of his eyebrow lifts. “Liar.”

“I’m serious,” you insist, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I think it’s pretty… but if you want me to call you James, that’s okay. I can make that sacrifice.”

He laughs this time, it felt even warmer than the evening air, softer than the fading light. You slow your steps without meaning to.

“I go this way,” you say, gesturing ahead.

“Same,”

“I didn’t know you lived nearby.”

“Not too far.”

The quiet that follows isn’t awkward, but it soon fills with your conversations. “…Keonho talks a lot,”

A small laugh escapes you before you can hold it back, remembering how you and Yunah placed a bet once on who speaks the most, him or Wonhee. “He does.”

“He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know!”

“He just fills space with the most random things. So does Martin.”

“That makes sense,” you say, glancing down for a moment. “They get along so well.”

He looks at you then, briefly but directly. “You don’t.”

You frown, a little puzzled. “I don’t talk much.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You turn your head toward him, confusion softening your expression. He doesn’t explain right away, letting the moment sit there. “You don’t need to.”

Something about the way he says it makes your chest feel different, but before you can figure out why, he nods toward a smaller street branching off ahead. “This is me.”

You stop. “Oh.”

“Let’s keep going,” he says.

“James, we’re in your street.”

“I don’t want to let you go alone; let me take you home safe.”

It’s said simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He reaches out, hand hovering before gently nudging yours forward, urging you to keep walking. The contact is light, fleeting—but it made your face warm instantly and forced you to look away, walking forward before he has the chance to notice.

Or maybe he does.

The street stretches ahead as your footsteps walk side by side, the conversations growing as both of you arrive at your house.

“Hold on, you are Juhoon’s neighbor?”

“Yes, for a couple of years now, actually.” 

“I didn’t know that,” he says, glancing between your house and his, fitting pieces together a little too late. “That makes sense.”

You smile faintly. “Does it?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, hands slipping into his pockets. “You’re around more than I thought. I just didn’t notice properly.”

“Well,” you murmur with your eyes on him, “you’re noticing now.”

“Glad I am.”

You stood in front of the cool metal of your gate with your key in hand. “I had a good time,” he says then, almost like it surprises him to admit it out loud.

Again, you were caught off guard, but this time, it’s easier to smile. “Me too.” Your door finally opened. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, James.” 

You take a step back, already half-turning toward your door.

“…Yufan sounds nice, too.” Once the words lingered in the air, you looked back at him just to see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Yufan,” you corrected, his smile growing a little in size.

“I’ll be happy to see you tomorrow,” he says. “Y/N.”

You nod once before slipping inside, closing the gate behind you. But even as you walk toward your door, you give one last glance back once more. He’s still there, waiting for you to enter safely and to wave his hand softly before he finally turns and heads home.

Who would have thought that Yufan was that sweet?

─── BLR DIDN'T WANT ME TO POST THIS BC OF THE 1K BLOCK LIMIT </3! Hence, I'm posting the first part out so you all can stop waiting (and yes, we are missing more scenes). The second part will come out hours later today or on Thursday, but it WILL. Tysm for waiting, it feels so good to be back on cortisblr yall 🚬🩷

You sighed deeply, unable to form words as his body shook in your arms. You held him tightly, one hand cradling his head as he buried his head in your neck. You stayed still, trying to be his anchor when his world was falling apart right in your arms. You could feel his tears slide down your chest from your neck, you rubbed his back in order to console him. After a while his sobs subsided but his hold on you remained tight, not too much to hurt but enough to remind you of their presence on your body, firm enough to know you won't disappear. He pulled away from you, his movements abrupt as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice water on him in the middle of the winter. He took a few steps back, hands grasping the door of his car. He looked at you.

"What are you doing here?" His eyes glassy as he questioned you, his gaze fell behind your figure to see if there's anyone else. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, ears ringing and eyes sensitive, "are you okay?" You saw his bottom lip quiver at your words, his shoulders slumping as if everything around him was weighing him down. "You should be inside, enjoying your night-" "I should. But I couldn't stay when I saw you walk out." The grip he had on the car's door wavered and he let his hand fall. "Why?" He questioned, eyes hazy as steps drifting closer, his hand lifting up to your face, "you seemed to be enjoying yourself on the dance floor though..." he mumbled as he swiped his thumb against the corner of your mouth, hand trembling slightly, "what do you mean?" Your breath shuddered, one hand clasping around his jacket.

"Your lipstick smudged a little," his gaze locked into your lips, "there, all good." You exhaled the breath you were holding when he stepped back, his thumb stained with the lipstick he removed from the corner of your mouth. He turned towards the car and you grabbed his shoulder to hold him back, "Jay, it isn't what it looked like." He faced you, tongue poking inside of his cheek as he scoffed softly, "doesn't matter to me, it's your life anyway," he opened the door and you stepped forward, the hand grabbing his shoulder moving up to rest softly against his face, "don't shut off, you always do this when you're stressed," your thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping the tears that had fell, "and it hurts to watch you lock everything inside you like you're alone in this. Lean on me, talk to me, just don't shut yourself out."

He observed you for a while, unable to find any words that would contradict yours. His eyes fell upon the people coming out of Ava's house and he held your hand, tugging you towards the passenger's seat and quickly running back towards the driver's seat, "I don't want people to misunderstand us, let's talk somewhere else." You turned around in your seat to look at people leaving the party, "you're right..." he looked at you before watching the people through his rearview mirror, "yeah." He started driving, and you couldn't tell where exactly he was trying to take you. He pulled up in an empty parking lot, got out and opened your door for you. He locked the car door and made his way towards the curb and sat on it, hands in his head as he took deep breaths to calm himself.

You slowly made your way towards him, giving him time to calm himself, you sat down beside him, not too far, nor too close. You removed your heels, feet aching with all the running, you put them beside you, hands instinctively holding your ankle to massage it a bit as you waited for Jay to say something. "Are they hurting that bad?" Your eyes found his face but his hands were focused on your leg, you stopped your movements, folding your arms on your knees, "tell me what happened." His eyes finally met yours and he sighed, "we had a fight, and I walked out." You put your head on your knees as you nodded at his words, "I don't like big parties, I'm allergic to chocolate, she knew about this, I wrote those things in the letters I sent back to her and she's trying to make me the crazy one for not appreciating her efforts."

"Jay," you started even though you had no idea what to say. "I don't get it anymore," he sighed as he run his hand through his hair, "those letters mean the world to me, gave me the strength when I almost gave up, they talked about me, not the popular guitarist of HYPHENIX, those letters understood my silences and that's why I fell, that's why I thought I could have something real with Ava." You watch him unravel in front of you and you swallow back the burning feeling igniting in your stomach at his words, "maybe she never expected you to hold those letters so dearly, Jay." He looked at his eyes darkening as the possibility of your words being true settled inside him, "how could I not hold those letters close? They were the foundation of our relationship, the Ava who wrote those letters saw through me when everyone else just expected me to be perfect."

You smiled softly looking down at your hands at his words, "maybe you're trying to hold onto a version of her which only existed in those letters, sometimes people portray a version of themselves which they can't live up to, which leads to disappointment and heartbreak." He nodded at your words feeling confused yet understood, "maybe I am but is that my fault? For believing in it?" You shook your head at its words, laughing slightly, "It's not your fault for believing, its hers for not living up to it, sometimes it's easier to pretend especially if the words are wrapped in kind and comforting words inside an envelope."

"But her kind and comforting words were the exact reason why I fell for her, but now when I try to connect with her, she diverts the topic like it isn't a big deal. For her spotlight is everything, she always gushes about it, but when she wrote me those letters, she never once mentioned about my popularity, her letters rather focused on my musicality," you nodded your head as if you don't remember every single thing you wrote on those letters, like it doesn't hurt to watch him going through so much pain when all you wanted was for him to be happy, "maybe she doesn't know you the way you thought she would. Maybe she wasn't as serious about those letters as you were."

He turned his body towards you fully, eyes narrowing deep in thought, "no one can notice things that deep if they aren't serious about it," you play with the bracelet in your hand nervously, "how am I supposed to find a solution to this?" He sighed as he buried his head on his hands, you contemplated to reach out to him but you did it anyway, your hand slide up to run your finger through his hair, he didn't stop you, "don't force yourself to be somewhere you don't belong, if you feel she's not the person you fell in love with then it's better to break things up." He lifted his head enough to look at you, "It's not that easy," you let your hand fall on your lap, sighing deeply you muttered something which always lingered at the back of your mind, "Jay, don’t build your entire world around someone who can’t hold it for you."

Your eyes fell upon the stars that shone brightly above you, and his eyes were focused on you as those words left his mouth, "I think I might confront her about this whole situation, I really don't like how things are going in between us, we always fight and pretend in front of others that everything is fine. I don't like it." Your mind drifted far off as you watched the night sky, feeling exhausted at the events that unfolded today. You thought Ava would take notice of basic things and at least pretend to care for Jay, but it was clear that all she wanted was popularity rather than a companion. You blame yourself for supporting her reckless choices cause now you're doubting every single thing you did that led you to this moment.

Your lips twitched in discomfort, you knew watching Ava in Jay's arms would be hard but watching him break down in front of you because of her was harder. You wanted to tell him he deserved the kind of love he hoped he'd get from Ava, that it's not wrong to fall for someone and be disappointed when their actions wouldn't match their words. But how would they match when both of you were two different people? You cursed internally, taking a deep breath, if only she never lied, if only you never supported her. God you hated her so much for complicating things. "Jay," his name left your mouth like a confession, he hummed, eyes still trained on your face, "I don't like your girlfriend."

Sunghoon checked the time on his phone, squinting slightly as the sun was up, he knocked on the door, stepped a few steps back and waited, "oh! You're here!" He heard the person at the door say, leaning his weight on one of his legs, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled to instagram. He barely hummed in response, finally looking up, "Where are the gifts?" Ava's smile dropped at his dull tone, "well good morning to you too," she said, rolling her eyes and stepping aside to make way for him. Sunghoon wordlessly put his phone inside his jeans pocket, entering the same house he was in yesterday night, he looked at the surroundings. The house was yet to be cleaned fully, "I'll call some cleaners to help you with the cleaning-" his words were cut off when Ava grabbed his arms, "no, I've got this, though thank you for offering your help, you're such a gentleman Hoon."

Sunghoon gulped, removing her hands from his arm, "it's Sunghoon for you." Ava frowned at his words, pout forming on her face as she glared at him, "but you let her call you Hoon though." He sighed, looking anywhere but her face, "she is allowed to call me that. I allowed her to call me that. I don't recall asking you to call me Hoon." She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and Sunghoon stepped back, "you should be close to me not her, I'm your best friend's girlfriend!" He exhaled deeply, already regretting coming to her house, "exactly, my best friend's girlfriend, and your association with Jay doesn't define if you'll get close to me or not, it's actually based on how you are as a person."

Ava scoffed, flicking her hair back as if she couldn't grasp the concept, "she's not even that fun, doesn't do parties, isn't popular, has nothing special about her, she's not interesting....I don't know why you pay so much attention to her!" Sunghoon looked at her, boredom laced on his face but his eyes showed the quiet furry he felt within, "well at least she doesn't back-bitch about her best friend! Maybe we like her better because she's a better person than you'll ever be Avalyn." She flinched at his harsh tone, footsteps retreating, "Sunghoon....don't get close to her please." He scoffed at her, eyes trained on the main door then towards the huge cardboard box placed in the corner labelled 'Jay's gift', "you greedy woman, you're dating my best friend yet you're trying to continue to hit on me?"

He took a few steps towards her, and she backed off, suddenly trembling under his intense gaze, "isn't he enough for you? I thought you stopped being a fucking whore and finally came to your senses, guess I was wrong, huh?" She fell down on the chair behind her, eyes shut closed as Sunghoon's words rang in her ears, "you kept on harassing me to sleep with you, even after I clearly declined, then suddenly my best friend introduced you as his girlfriend to me, you think I'm stupid?" Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, eyes glossy but he continued, "and I know your games Ava, you think I believed you when you said you wrote those letters for Jay? I don't think your pea-sized brain could even comprehend a single sentence written on it. I'm entertaining you just because I care too much about Jay and his feelings to hurt him bluntly by the truth."

"Sunghoon, please don't tell him, I beg you. I really love Jay, I'll take care of him well..." His hand slammed against the wall near him, "you're dating him for quite some time and yet you don't know what things he likes and dislikes and you're telling me you'll take care of him?" Tears fell from her eyes, hands shaking at the possibility of her truth being exposed, "Sunghoon, I'll be a good girlfriend, I'll keep him happy, please I beg you." He just looked at her, walking towards the gift box and picking it up in his arms, "you still try to hit on me subtly and say you'll be a good girlfriend? You think I don't notice your advances? Don't notice how whenever me and your best friend are close you take her away from me? You can't even be a good friend Ava, how will you ever be a good girlfriend? You're just a selfish bitch who only thinks about herself."

Sunghoon turned around towards the door, taking a few long strides to reach his car, he put the gift box in the backseat and shut the door of his car. He opened the door of the driver's seat when Ava grabbed his hand, and turned to face her, "I can ruin your friendship if I want, you know?" She spoke through gritted teeth, hands now clenched in fist by her side, "you think Jay would be by your side if I tell him you tried to take advantage of me?"

Sunghoon blinked at her once, twice, then laughed loud and full, straight from his chest as he threw his head back. He grabbed the hood of his car to keep his balance. He wiped the tears that escaped his eyes as he calmed himself, "I wanted to say something hurtful but your words just made me realize how pitiful you are," Ava frowned at his words, "maybe if you weren’t so selfish and actually knew how to keep real friends, you wouldn't be so quick to throw out threats like this. But go ahead and see if he believes that over someone who has known him better than you ever will." He turned around, sliding into his driver's seat and driving off without giving her a single chance to speak.

Sunghoon parked his car in Jay's parking place, taking notice of Jay's car being parked in its usual spot. He picked up the gift box and made his way towards the main door. He kicked his door, flinching slightly as the door was unlocked so it slammed against the wall. The sound woke Jay up from where he was curled up on his couch in the living room, "what the fuck is up with you?" Jay mumbled although he wanted to lecture his friend about guest etiquette. "Ah close the door for me yeah? As you can see my lord, my hands are full." Sunghoon took off his shoes and invited himself into his best friend's house, keeping his gift box on the coffee table and jumping to sit on the couch.

"Since you weren't replying to your girl, she asked me to pick up your gifts from her house," Sunghoon grumbled reminiscing about the texts after texts he got from Ava which forced him to go and get Jay's gift. Jay just shrugged, still half asleep, rubbing his eyes as he approached Sunghoon, "did you atleast eat something?" Jay nodded at his friend's words, "yeah, I woke up, got fresh, made breakfast and ate it, washed the dishes, then slept again." Jay slumped beside Sunghoon, yawning. "Wow, I expected more sulking and less functioning adult energy from you."

Jay rolled his eyes, sitting up straight to open the box, "why did she call you? Could've waited for me to reply to her back..." Sunghoon looked at Jay, his mind drifting back to Ava's house, "she said her parent's will be home tonight, she needed to get rid of everything before they arrive," Jay nodded, remembering Ava telling him about her parents being very strict about everything. He remembered her telling him that you are her only friend whom her parents trust. "I'll get going, I am having some issues with my keyboard, I'll have it checked." Jay bid him goodbye and made his way back inside the house to open up the gift box.

He took off the gifts inside the box one by one, placing them neatly on the ground or on the coffee table as he emptied the box and folded it to throw it in the trash bin at the back of his house. He folded the cardboard box and made his way towards his backyard, he placed the box near the trash bin and started making his way back towards the house. His footsteps halted when he saw an envelope fallen near the backdoor of his house. He crouched down to pick it up, turning it around to inspect it carefully, 'Dear, Jay.' it read.

His eyebrow furrowed while looking at the envelope, a sense of familiarity growing within his heart as he read the label of the envelope. The handwriting, a huge smile etched upon his face at the familiar scribble of words, though in the letters he received the writer used to call his name a bit differently, he found himself feeling relieved. He made his way inside his room, rummaging through his closet to take out the box where he kept all the letters together. He took out one random letter to compare the handwriting, praying continuously for it to be the same. It had been a while since he saw the handwriting and he laughed at himself for being so excited over a trivial thing.

He grabbed his phone, when he found the handwriting matched, grinning happily even before opening the envelope to see what's inside. After a few rings Ava picked up the phone, her voice shaky as he finally called her back after being ignored for a whole night, "Jay, I'm sorry for yesterday baby, please don't be mad at me, I love you so much." He smiled at her, eyes focused upon the envelope on his hand, "It's okay Ava, I love you too, I just got your gift, thank you so much, baby. You made me so happy you have no idea." She laughed at his excited tone, breathing in relief that Sunghoon didn't share anything with him about what happened at her house, "you loved your gift?" She asked, her voice relaxed now, "yes I did."

"Thank god, Jay. I was stressed if you'd love it or not, I mean it took me days to find that limited edition watch, I'm so glad you loved it. Don't forget to wear it when you come to meet me, okay?" Jay's smile flattered as he focused on Ava's words then back at the envelope in his hand, a watch? His brows twitching in confusion, "did you attach anything else with your gift Ava?" He questioned, inspecting the envelope as if it would answer his questions, "umm just a bow." Jay hummed, his heartbeat frantic, "okay baby, I'll meet you soon." "See you." He hung up the phone, scoffing at himself as he laid back on his bed, the letters and envelope still spread near his legs. He picked up the envelope, sighing as he looked at it.

He dialed Ava's number again, mind swirling with thoughts waiting for her to pick up, "Jay? Did you forget something?" He sighed, putting the phone on speaker and keeping the letters back inside the box, "umm," he wondered, an idea popping in his head, "be ready in 2 hours, wanna spoil you a bit for giving me my birthday gift..." he could hear the excited squeal left leaving from her mouth, "why? You didn't have to, what do you want me to wear?" He chuckled, "wear anything, you look pretty anyway." He hung up the phone before she could speak further.

Jay was getting ready to pick Ava when his phone rang, the called ID showing 'Dikeu' in bold, he chuckled looking at the contact name for Jake, realizing Sunghoon must've changed it when he wasn't looking at his phone, "I'm free, wanna hangout?" Jay's eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on the soft background music playing, "since when did your music taste change?" He could hear Jake chuckle as he turned the music off, "nah, the song is good, but I wasn't the one playing that..." Jay's heartbeat quickened, "who were you with?" Jake blinked once before your name left his lips.

"Oh what was she doing with you?" Jake pouted on the other end of the phone as if Jay could see him, "you aren't even interested in me anymore?" Jay groaned and a chuckle left Jake's mouth, "I dropped her home, our classes ended at the same time. Are you gonna tell me if you're free to hangout or not?" Jay rubbed his temple but replied nonetheless, "I've a date with Ava, I can't hangout today," Jake hummed, thinking on who to irritate next now that Jay was busy, "okay, I'll irritate someone else then!"

Jay leaned on his car as he waited for Ava to come out of her house, "Jay!" He lifted his head, eyes taking in her short satin dress that fit her body perfectly, she smiled at him, one hand stretched out for him to take, he held her hand, pulling her closer to give a quick kiss on her cheek, he guided her towards the passenger's seat and made himself comfortable on the driver's seat. The engine hummed beneath them as Jay scrolled through his playlist. When he found the song, he pressed play and Lee Hi’s Breathe poured softly into the car’s hush. He gave a quick glance towards Ava who didn't even utter a single word about his choice of the song.

"You wanna change the music or is this song fine?" She nodded at him, before he watched her lean towards the screen to play another, more upbeat song, "We are going on a date, I don't think dull songs like that match the vibe." Jay's eyebrows twitched but he didn't press further, just hummed in response and started driving off. After a while, "Jay," Ava called softly as she looked at him, he signaled her to continue, his eyes trained on the road, "I shouldn't have argued with you yesterday, I'm sorry, it was your birthday I should've been more patient," Jay smiled at her, one hand clutching the wheel while other was placed on his own lap.

Ava looked at his expressions before continuing, "It's just that I was so angry, I had to do everything alone since your friends decided to exclude me, even my own best friend didn't tell me about the surprise party. I felt so betrayed, I tried my best but it all crumpled down when I accidentally ordered the wrong cake, I mean, people can make mistakes right? But still, I'm sorry for making you feel like you don't matter to me..." she trailed off realizing Jay had barely acknowledged the words that slipped her lips, "didn't you say that it was the bakery who made the mistake?" Her breath hitched as she clasped both her hands together on her lap, "Isn't that the same thing?" Jay didn't question her further.

He stopped his car near a high end restaurant, handing over his car keys to the valet, he slid his hand on Ava's waist to pull her close. The restaurant was beautiful, with high ceilings and open plan structure so one could enjoy the view of nature around it. Ava gasped, thrilled to be at such a place, she turned around, giving Jay a little kiss before she dragged him towards a spot she wanted to sit. He pulled a chair for her, then made himself comfortable. The waiter handed both of them the menu card and left, but as soon as Ava was about to discuss what she wanted to eat, he stopped her, his smile sickeningly sweet as he looked at her.

"I'll order for you," he said, leaning a bit towards the table, "I remember you writing about your favorite dishes in the letters, I want to be a good boyfriend and prove you that I remember all those things you wrote," Jay held her hand, softly rubbing circles at the back of her hand. She laughed awkwardly, nodding her head with way too much enthusiasm, he looked at her for a second too long, before dropping his gaze back on the menu, "since it's still day time, let's order tea first," He signaled the waiter to take the order, "two chamomile-lavender tea please," the waiter nodded asking if they needed anything else and Jay informed him he'll update further.

"Chamomile-......lavender tea?" Jay grinned at Ava's expressions, "yeah? I never tried drinking that combination but now that you're with me I thought why not? If in case I don't find it pleasing I can just pass it to you since you're so crazy about it." Ava's lips twitched but she managed to mask it behind a polite smile, swallowing a lump from her throat, "I hope you'll like," she trailed off, looking at the view, "I feel so refreshed after drinking it." Jay hummed clearly amused by her ability to still try her best at blending in, "refreshing? Didn't you say the bitterness of this combo helps you stay awake when coffee doesn't do it for you?" She pulled her hand out of his grip and clenched her hands tightly on her lap, "yeah that too."

"Here's your tea," the waiter placed the drinks on the table and Jay looked at Ava expectantly, she smiled at his direction, placing a trembling hand on the cup and take a sip, "I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about drinking it," Ava grimaced at the taste, but masked it with a semi-awkward smile which didn't even reach its full potential, "I am, just feeling tired from yesterday's party." He nodded solemnly at her words and urged her to continue drinking, smiling as he took a sip of the tea himself, "Ah it's too bitter for me," he pushed the tea towards Ava, "please finish this for me too baby." He could see color drain from her face but still acted oblivious, humming a song or complimenting the restaurant's architecture.

Ava finished both the tea, he grinned at her, kissing her hand and complimenting her, "I need to go to the bathroom, one second." He watched as Ava rushed off to the bathroom, leaning back on the chair and sighing. Ava came back, a bit breathless, Jay ordered the food and she sighed in relief that he ordered something she could eat without feeling like throwing up. "You okay baby? You don't look good," Ava sat on her chair, dabbing the sweat off her forehead with tissues, "Yeah, I don't know, I'm feeling suffocated suddenly," Jay watched her, nodding his head, "okay, let's get out of here then." He paid the bill and made their way towards the next destination he had in his mind.

"Baby what's this?" Ava wondered when he stopped the car in an unknown lane, getting out of the car and helping her with it. "You don't recognize? Didn't you say you loved this place?" Ava's heartbeat quickened, eyes wondering on numbers of small shops and stores lining up one after the other. Her eyes took in the surroundings, "haha, yeah. I remember this, it's just that I'm feeling so tired that my brain isn't working." Jay hummed, holding her hand and pulling her inside a bookstore hidden in between two large clothing shops. "It's okay, you said the smell of books calms you down, that's the reason I brought you here." She nodded wordlessly at his words, rubbing her nose slightly at the lavender candle lit at the entrance of the bookstore.

Ava panicked, realizing that Jay planned this whole date based on the letters written by his secret admirer. She could still feel her throat itching even after forcing herself to throw up the tea in the bathroom and if this thing continued she wasn't sure if she would be able to cover up. Jay made his way towards her, hand holding a couple of books which Ava didn't recognize and another holding a lavender scented candle. "Ava? You good baby?" Her nose itched, turning a bit red as she looked at Jay, clearly anxious, "Jay, it's getting late, shall we go back? I'm not feeling good at all, baby." He sighed, placing the candle back on the shelves and paying for the books before agreeing with Ava. She sighed in relief as they made their way back towards the car.

"Baby?" Ava hummed as she looked at the passing cars, "wanna hangout at my place before I drop you off at yours? We don't have to do anything, just cuddle, maybe drink some alcohol if you're up to it? Hm?" He glanced at her, before concentrating back on the road, "okay, sounds good to me." Jay smiled, extending his hand to give her hand a gentle squeeze. When they reached his house, he helped her remove her heels, taking her hand and guiding her towards his bedroom. Ava laughed, nudging Jay a little bit, "Wait here, I'll bring the drink." Ava sat on the bed, looking at his room, "open the sliding door, we'll drink outside, you'd love it."

Ava nodded, opening the door and helping Jay with the drinks. They were in the middle of drinking when the weather became gloomy, dark clouds spreading all throughout the sky, few drops of rain fell upon their clothes and Jay urged Ava to get inside. He bought the drinks and glasses inside, neatly putting the glasses on the sink. Till the time he returned from the kitchen, heavy downpour had blurred the word around them, and in the distance, thunder rolled low and slow. Ava flinched slightly, her hands clutching the comforter, "you okay baby?" She looked up, smiling slightly and he made his way towards her, eyes trained on the rain.

"Yes, just startled." Jay squinted his eyes at her, tilting his head, "thought you said you loved storms, why are you startled?" Ava shrugged, flinching again when lightning struck again, "why would I say that, I hate storms!" He crouched in front of her, his gaze hardening, "isn't that crazy? You said you loved the storms as it made you feel like you aren't the only one who is unraveling. I remember it clearly, you wrote about it, how they make you feel at peace." Ava froze, her eyes widening and body trembling under his fierce gaze, "I was just in a different headspace at that time."

"You always say that Ava, I was in a different headspace, I was feeling poetic, I didn't think you'd think so deeply of it, my opinion changed. It never ends!" Ava stood up, walking towards the bedroom door to create some distance in between them, "I was just trying my best to impress you because I love you, Jay. You're comparing me to a version of myself I curated just for you." Jay followed her, breath ragging, "are you sure that's the truth?" Ava paused, hesitating to say another word, "what do you mean?" she mumbled, leaning against the door.

"I just think, Avalyn," He taunted, voice low and dangerously calm, "I think you saw someone laying their heart bare, you saw how everyone noticed, you saw something genuine, which you could never be, and instead of respecting it like everyone else, you dressed yourself in someone else's devotion and had the audacity to call it yours!" He took a step closer, eyes burning through her, he slammed one hand on the door beside her head, "you saw someone bleed their love on the paper and got greedy. You never wanted love, just attention, and you didn’t care whose heart you had to break just to get what you wanted."

Ava looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes, she pushed Jay away, scoffing in disbelief, "you really think I would do something like that? After everything I've done for you? God! I knew this would happen, you just want a reason to get rid of me now that you're bored." Jay's jaw clenched at her words, "I'm sorry I didn't live up to your fantasy Jay, sorry that I couldn't talk in ink and metaphors for you." Jay pushed her against the door, eyes narrowing at her words, "it isn't about ink and metaphors, it's about the meaning behind them, you claimed those thoughts were yours, you silenced someone Avalyn, you banned someone from loving me the only way they knew how." Ava's jaw clenched but she kept quiet, unable to say anything in her defense with the way Jay was looking at her.

"Here's what you're going to do now Avalyn," he started, stepping back and glaring at her, his tone calm and calculated, "in few weeks it's your birthday, you're going to tell everyone there that you lied about those letters, and I'll tell them I don't hold any grudge against you so that we can both part ways without creating anymore mess." Ava's eyes widened at his words, all the things she did to gain the popularity wilting away in front of her eyes, "please Jay? Can't you give me a chance? We were doing fine, we can continue to do that. If the person who sent those letters to you loved you enough she would have exposed me long ago, but she didn't right? Please Jay, I beg you." Jay rubbed his temple, groaning as he threw his head back in frustration, "no, just do as I say, in a few weeks, at your birthday party, tell everyone the truth, and we're done for!"

You heave a sigh as you stand, leaning on one of the pillars of your university campus, looking at the downpour. It had been raining since yesterday night and hasn't stopped since then. Most of the students had either left the campus or found home in some corner or the university where they could wait till the downpour was light enough to travel through. You heard someone call your name, you turned slightly, smiling when you found Heeseung wave at you. "Done with your class?" You questioned, your eyes falling on your mobile screen to see if Ava responded to your texts or calls. "Yes, I wanted to go home but the rain is so heavy, you can't even see what's in front of you." You offered him a quick nod, eyes trained on the rainfall, but your mind drifted towards something else. Ava didn't attend any classes today, which was completely normal but what irked you most was her skipping the cheer practice. Her friends had stopped you to ask about her whereabouts and the only thing you could do was shrug in response.

"Yah, both of you," you jumped a little at the sudden voice, Heeseung chuckled before turning around to face his friend, Jake, "are you just going to stand there and watch the rain? Might as well come inside the music room and chill." You and Heeseung made your way inside the music room, you walked towards the window, dragging a chair with you, and sat on it, sighing. "I don't think the rain is going to stop anytime soon...." Sunghoon's voice trailed off as he spotted your figure sitting near the window as he walked inside the music room while talking to Jay. "Looks like someone loves rain way too much," Sunghoon smirked as he dragged a desk near your chair and sat on it, startling you in the process.

Jay quietly made his way towards the couch, slumping against it as he watched you interact with Sunghoon, a weird knot forming in his chest as he remembered you and Sunghoon sharing a kiss right in the middle of his birthday party. He kept wondering why he would feel so jealous in the first place, it wasn't like any of you were betraying him but he couldn't help but feel weirdly hurt whenever he saw both of you together. He was sure that if he kept on glaring at both of you with the same intensity then he'd actually be able to punch a hole in Sunghoon's face.

"Jay, did you bring your car?" Heeseung's voice brought him back to reality, his eyes looked around the room to see everyone already looking at him, he blinked a few times before nodding his head yes. Heeseung eyed him skeptically before nodding his head at his words, "so, Sunghoon, Jake and I slept over my house yesterday so we just took my car to come here," Jay nodded, hands playing with the ripped part of his jeans, "yeah so I need to take these two back to my house to retrieve their cars which is in complete opposite direction to where she lives," he pointed his index finger at you and you glared at him, "so will you drop her off?" Jay's eyes met yours, you smiled a little and he nodded, "ofcourse, I would. It shouldn't be a question."

And now you were sitting inside Jay's car as he pulled out of the university's campus. You leaned your head against the window, trying your best to not steal glances at Jay. You noticed he looked tired than usual, like he didn't get any sleep last night and with the way Ava had completely shut you out today, something must've happened between them again. You remember Jake texting you yesterday to ask if you were free to hangout, you had planned on deep cleaning your apartment that day so you declined and he told you Jay was busy taking Ava on date, you figured they mended the things between them but guess you were perhaps wrong.

You were busy with your thoughts when Jay's phone rang, he pulled his car aside and stopped, picking up the phone. You looked at him briefly as he was busy talking with someone on the phone. After sometime he hung up, giving you a side smile, "give me a few minutes, I just need to send this location to my cousin." You nodded, taking out your own phone to scroll through instagram when a loud thunder roared through the sky, your eyes widened at the sound, "damn, that was loud," you couldn't help but say as you leaned towards the windshield to look at the sky. Jay looked at you, surprised as you finally spoke something. "Scared of storms?" He questioned, giving you a quick glance before resuming his task, "no, I'm not. Just amazed by the intensity."

He locked his phone screen, throwing it somewhere in the compartment, the sound of thunder immediately sent his brain in a flashback mode, his mind drifting to the events that unfolded the previous night. He then turned his eyes on your figure which was still leaning towards the windshield, hands placed on the glass to wipe the condensation and see the view clearly. "You seem quite fascinated by the view," he couldn't help but chuckle at your wonder-like expressions, "oh I love storms, it brings me peace! I could sit and observe it all day!" Jay's smile flattered at your words, chest tightening at the familiarity of the words. He quickly swallowed the tension building in his throat and started driving towards your apartment.

You reached your apartment building, the thunder still loud above you, even the trees hazardly swayed left and right, and you could barely manage to stand still without struggling a bit against the wind. You knocked on the window of Jay's car and waited for him to roll it down. "I think it will be better if you wait for the weather to calm down a bit," you suggested. He shook his head, turning around his seat to look at the scenario out of the parking space of your building, "I think I can manage-" His words got cut off when a large tree branch flew past both of your line of vision, ripped from the tree like it was nothing, "yeah I think I can wait for a little bit." You smiled at him, stepping back and moving towards the elevator to press your floor button. Jay joined you inside the elevator and you sighed waiting for it to reach your floor.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Hot Coffee?" Jay paused to think, fingers tapping against his chin in deep thought as he sat on your couch, "what type of tea do you have?" You smiled bashfully, leaning against your kitchen door, "Mr. Park, what type would you like to drink? Your wish would be my command." He laughed at your words, "do you have chamomile tea?" You nodded your head in enthusiasm which Jay couldn't help but reciprocate, "I have all the types of tea, I sort of have a weird fixation on it." He smirked, getting up from the couch and following you inside the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen counter, humming softly as he watched you gather the ingredients to make the tea. "Wow, you indeed have a crazy collection of tea."

You grinned back at him, opening the cabinet wider for him to get a better look, he stepped closer, hands raking his fingers through the jars. "Damn, you could open a tea stall," you solemnly nodded as if actually considering his suggestion. "What tea is your favorite? Taking a look at the jars I would say..." he trailed off, looking through the jars, "black, chamomile and lavender tea are your top picks." You gave him a thumbs up, taking the chamomile tea's jar off the cabinet and shutting it close. He made himself comfortable on the chair against the kitchen counter as he watched you make the tea, comfortable silence settled between them, the only sound being gentle clatter of cups, and soft bubbling of the water.

You poured the tea into two cups and slide one in front of him as you sat beside him, he smelled the tea, "oh it smells calming..." you grinned, taking a whiff of the tea yourself, "the weather is so beautiful, and the chamomile tea just made it more perfect, but do you want honey added into yours? I like to drink it bitter, I have to submit an essay tomorrow so I need to stay awake..." you mindlessly trailed off searching the cabinets for the bottle of honey, not realizing the weight of your words, mind temporarily forgetting about you mentioning about it in one of the letters. Jay felt a sense of deja vu take over inside him yet again but before he could say a single word to you the doorbell rang.

You put the bottle of honey in front of him, wondering who would visit you at this time. You made your way towards the living room and looked at the window at the end of the hallway, the weather had calmed down significantly. You opened the door, swinging it open to see Ava standing in front of you, she huffed a breath, "I've been ringing your doorbell since forever," she rolled her eyes, stepping forward and pushing your figure aside slightly since you didn't move an inch. "I've been trying to reach you since last night and you ignored me, and now you randomly showed up at my apartment without replying or calling me back?" You complained as you followed her figure back into your living room.

"Do I need to always inform you about my whereabouts or something?" She hissed, sitting on your couch rather harshly, "my mood is so off, my life is about to turn upside down and you only care about me ghosting you?" You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning your weight on one of your legs, "well yes since I texted and called you to ask about those exact things Ava!" You saw Jay slowly making his way towards the living room from your peripheral vision, he stood just near the kitchen door, Ava's back against his. "You should have tried harder to reach me, you could've skipped classes and visited me home, I even missed my cheer practice for God's sake!" You nervously glanced at Jay before speaking, "you know I had an important exam today, I told you about it ages ago, and it was raining so heavily how do you expect me to visit you?"

"I don't care, you should be beside me when I shut you out, shouldn't you as my best friend seek me when I pull away from everyone?" She complained, hands pulling at her head. "Well she tried reaching out to you through texts and calls, what more do you want her to do when there's a storm going on and she doesn't have any vehicle?" Ava sat up straight, eyes going wide as Jay stood beside you, "Jay? What are you doing here?" Her gaze travelled in between you and him, wondering how he had time to be at your apartment when he didn't reply to even a single text from her. "That shouldn't be your main focus, is this how you always talk with her?" You grabbed his arm when he stepped closer to her, his jaw clenched, Ava's gaze landed on your hand on Jay's arm, you released your hold when he stopped his steps.

"Answer me!" You flinched at the tone of his voice, Ava swallowed, clenching her fist tightly, "no, I'm not thinking straight and wanted to seek solace in my best friend especially after what happened last night!" Jay scoffed, pinching his nose in annoyance, "this isn't how you seek solace in someone..." Ava slammed her head against the back of the couch, clearly not prepared for Jay's interrogation, "I'm sorry, what are you doing here anyway?" Jay shrugged, turning towards you, "I think I should get going, the weather is calm enough for me to drive back, thanks for the tea." You nodded at him, bidding him goodbye and closing the door behind him, confusion etched upon your face.

"How come my boyfriend was in your apartment?" You turned around to look at Ava who was already on her feet, making her way towards the kitchen. You followed her to find her standing near the kitchen counter, taking a sip of tea from your cup. She instantly spit it out in the sink, throwing the rest of the tea along with it. "I didn't even take a single sip!" You groaned as you approached her, "since when do you drink this shit?" You squint your eyes at her words, her face contouring into that of a grimace, "what do you mean since when? You should know I prefer drinking tea to calm myself." Ava stopped midway, your words dawning heavy on her shoulder as she remembered what Jay said about drinking chamomile-lavender tea. She shook her head, making her way back into your living room.

"What happened to you anyway? Are you guys fighting or something? He didn't even say goodbye to you," you sat beside her, keeping your head on the back of the couch. "He found out I didn't write those letters..." she trailed off, her fingernails digging at her skin, "what?" You straightened up, eyes going wide at the realization, "how?" She scoffed, slumping against the armrest, "I didn't even get to bask in my popularity that much, how am I supposed to explain this to my other friends and cheer team?" You rubbed your temple, feeling anxious, "is that what you're worried about?" Ava rolled her eyes, "he wants me to confess about lying in my birthday party."

"What?" Ava sat up, looking straight into your eyes, no guilt about what she did, "he said something about confessing that I lied and then he wouldn't make a big deal out of this and then we can part ways," you looked at her for a moment, taking in all the things she dumped into you in a span of 5 minutes, "I warned you about this, but you didn't listen, just apologize to him, tell him you want to silently part ways, maybe if you look sorry enough he'll forgive you." She threw her hand in the air, "no he won't make this any easier, he was quite angry." You sighed, "well of course he is, you literally lied your way into the relationship, he must be feeling so betrayed and hurt, I told you not to do that, why do you have to be so selfish Ava?"

"Oh you two seem to be so deeply connected with each other to always defend each other's feelings in front of me, who's best friend are you? Try to think of something!" You shook your head at her, completely declining to be the one to help her after what she did, "you are going to do what he said, that's the only way you can get him to forgive you." She groaned, slamming her head against the armrest in frustration, "you aren't helping me with this," she got up, gathering all of her belongings and slamming the door shut behind her when she left. You thought about reaching out to Jay, your fingers hovering just long enough to feel the weight of the choice. But doubt slipped in quietly. What if he thought less of you too? What if saying it out loud only pushed him further away? You didn’t have the answers and maybe, deep down, you weren’t sure you were ready to hear them from him.

You were sitting on the bleachers, the court empty aside from a few students lounging around the area, "why do I always find you as if you're in mid-philosophical mental breakdown?" You tilt your head upward, removing the headphones from your ears, "I don't know Heeseung, you tell me." You saw him playfully roll his eyes as he sat down next to you. Jay, Jake and Sunghoon join right after with Jay sitting on your other side, Jake and Sunghoon sitting in front of you. "Why are you guys here anyway? Don't you guys have practice or something?" Jake gasped, an offended expression forming on his face, "why do you hate us so much? Are we not cool enough to hang out with you?"

"Stop with that 'too cool for you to hangout with' joke, you're stretching it so far up it's gonna explode," Sunghoon laughed at your expressions, "I did not think of you as a violent type pretty." You opened your mouth to retaliate but nothing came out, you just looked at him, trying to ease the rapid beating of your heart after hearing him call you pretty. After the kiss, Sunghoon didn't pressure you to explain anything to him, didn’t even ignore you but he stopped calling you pretty, your own name sounding so foreign when it left his mouth, you thought with time you'd get used to it but there he was, once again with that silly smirk of his, calling you pretty.

"Oh how blessed do we have to be to find HYPHENIX sitting here!" All of your head turned towards the voice, the captain of the cheer team, Gyuri smiled, behind her stood Ava along with a few other members of the cheer squad. "We were just leaving," Jake announced, already standing up, "why would you do that? Ava, does your boyfriend's friend hate us?" She pouted, eyes trained on Jake who just rolled his eyes in annoyance, a complete 180° from how he teased you a few minutes ago. You wondered if both of them had any history, Sunghoon didn't even glance at them after initially looking to see who called their name, Heeseung pretended to be busy on his phone. "It's not like that Gyuri," Ava mumbled looking down.

Gyuri scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, "It's Ava's birthday next week, I'm pretty sure I'll meet all of you there, right? It's going to be so much fun, everyone's going to be there." Jay nodded, not really looking towards Ava or even trying to have any sort of interaction with her, Gyuri noticed, she turned her head towards Ava, "did you two fight or something, you guys were fine just a few weeks ago!" Ava smiled awkwardly, making her way towards Jay, sitting beside him and leaning against his arm, "it's lovers quarrel, nothing we can't work upon." Gyuri looked at her skeptically before shrugging off and turning around and leaving.

Other three boys exchanged a look, clearly sensing the tension between Jay and Ava, they looked at you and you just smiled, clutching your notebook hard in your hands, they didn't press further. "What are you guys up to?" Ava questioned, her eyes trailing towards a few students who were looking in her direction as she sat with you and the boys, "nothing, just hanging around," Jake shrugged taking a seat. Eventually Ava sat awkwardly beside Sunghoon, and right in front of Jay after realizing he didn't tell his friends about them. She watched as Jay refused to acknowledge her presence at all and Jake and Heeseung exchanged glances at each other from time to time.

You were somehow also ignoring her presence, focusing on the reels on your phone rather than starting a conversation and Ava thinks it's maybe because she rudely left your apartment a week back and you haven't reached out to her after that. "You were going to send me a video of the recipe you saved to make that tea, you haven't sent it to me yet." Jay spoke, nudging your shoulder with his and you gave him an apologetic smile before copying the link of the video and sending it to him. Ava's eyes watched you both like a hawk, eyes narrowing at the newfound closeness in between you two. She gulped, feeling as if the perfect world she tried so hard to build was crumbling down the more she tried to save it.

"Oh shit, I forgot I had a seminar to attend, I should get going," you hurriedly zipped your bag and checked the time, cursing under your breath and running off towards the hall where the seminar would take place. "Oh she dropped her notebook," Sunghoon leaned down the grab the notebook which fell down from your lap, dusting it off, he opened the first page to look, "Give it to me, I'll pass it to her," Sunghoon turned his head towards Ava, eyes sharp and unmoving as he passed your notebook towards Jay instead. Ava sighed, eyebrows twitching at everyone's distant behavior, sure they took less liking for her somehow, even Heeseung and Jake, just acknowledged her as their bandmate's girlfriend but somehow each of them had soften themselves for you and she didn't like how you were getting more attention than she could.

"You're sure everything is alright between you two?" Gyuri questioned Ava as they stood in the locker room changing their clothes after finishing practicing, Ava gulped not maintaining eye contact with her caption as she hurried to put her things inside the bag, "you know you're only in the cheer squad because of Jay right? Since you bought so much attention towards our team after your whole secret admirer agenda?" Ava nodded, zipping up her bag, Gyuri held her shoulder, forcing Ava to face her, "try to mend things in between you both, if you were good enough with your talent alone, you wouldn’t have to enter the team through popularity, I hope you remember all the times you got rejected by different people from the team okay? But now that you finally made it into the team, try to maintain your spot."

"Yes, we are doing fine, Gyuri, we just need a little bit of space, that's it. Everything will go back to normal." Gyuri gave her a skeptical looks, not buying her reasoning at all, "you used to write all those letters to him which made him turn from icy to soft, he looked so smitten by you initially, I don't know what you did, but try to handle it properly, don't be a disappointment, I already get yelled at by our coach for allowing you in the team with the amount of mistakes you do, but I let him drag me since I know you bring attention to the team, don't do anything stupid to further taint my name, Ava." Ava sighed, leaning her head on the locker after Gyuri left. There was so much pressure on her head, she didn't know how she would even handle that.

Ava left the locker room, her feet dragging towards the main gate of the university. Her steps halted as she saw you standing few feet apart from her, you gaze trained on your phone as you sat on the stairs by the entrance of the university's building. She contemplated reaching out to you, her texts and calls left unattended since weeks, you wouldn't entertain her now, but this wasn't the time to whine over things like that, she needed your help to get out of the mess she had made, just like how you always did. Ava took a deep breath, deciding that apologizing to you and asking for your help would be the best case scenario for now, she could always deal with your attitude problem after this mess is solved. She took a step towards you but stopped when she spot Jay walking out of the music room, guitar case hanging off his shoulder and eyes turning ever so soft as they landed on you.

"I didn't think you'd still be here, your classes ended early today," He said, dropping his guitar case gently beside him, his voice casual but his eyes said otherwise. You hummed, smirking at him, "oh so you keep a tab on my schedule now?" Jay shrugged, smiling too wide for someone just having a casual conversation with a friend, "I need to look after you." You squint your eyes at him, elbowing his stomach, "I don't need anyone to look after me," Jay groaned as if your little nudge to his stomach actually hurt, "I know you don't need to be looked after, but I want to." He scooted closer to you, elbows pressing together, knees touching, you didn't move away. "Why do you always do that?" Jay questioned after sometime, "do what?" He reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, thumb rubbing against your earlobe a little too long.

"You never properly hold eye contact with me." You blinked, caught off guard by his observation, Jay's gaze softened like he wanted to ask something more than that, you didn't notice the way Jay looked at you but Ava did. She stood there frozen, clutching her phone in her hand tightly, she noticed everything, the way Jay would always listen to your words attentively, how he had this soft smile on his face whenever he talked with you, how his eyes always found you despite being surrounded by a large crowd, Ava noticed everything. And as you packed your things and Jay snatched the bag from your hand and carried it on his shoulder instead, as you both walked off towards Jay's car blissfully unaware of Ava's presence, she realized, in that moment, that you weren't invisible anymore. And she hated it.

Your eyes were trained on the birthday invite sent by Ava on your phone. You both haven't talked with each other after she stormed out of your apartment, it wasn't the first time she did that, neither will it be the last time but you were done trying to save your friendship. You always apologize for things you didn't do just to protect your friendship but you couldn't let her do that repeatedly, you were done with her toxicity. But still your mind keeps on drifting towards how she'll manage to confess about her lying, if she'll be able to handle people throwing taunts at her. You didn't have to, but you felt bad for her. You looked at the following text she sent after sending the invite, 'I know we aren't on good terms but your presence would mean so much to me, especially for what I am going to do today, I will think of it as a last birthday gift from you.' You sighed, locking your phone and stood up to get ready for the party.

"Wow she really went all out for the party," Jake chuckled in amusement after he reached Ava's house, "I know right, I heard she invited more than half of the campus..." Heeseung trailed off, Sunghoon looked at Jay who had his jaw clenched as he looked at the scene in front of him, "you good bro?" Jay tore his eyes from the house and looked at Sunghoon, "It's weird, why would she invite so many people to a party where she's going to announce our breakup?" A loud gasp escaped Jake's mouth, "she's going to announce about your breakup?" Jay nodded looking at them, "she lied about those letters, they were never written by her."

"What? How did you even find that out?" Jay sighed watching his friends look at him with worried eyes, "I always felt disconnected from her, I started questioning her more about the letters but it would end up with us fighting and long story short, she confessed about her lies. I told her to tell everyone about her lies on her birthday when everyone will be present there and I will make sure no one will harass her over it and that we could part ways in peace after that." Heeseung nodded, still a bit shocked at how everything turned out, "if that's the case then it is indeed weird for her to go all out with the party."

"Let's just hope she isn't trying to pull any new stunts then," Sunghoon huffed looking at his friends, hands resting on his hips, "if she can steal someone else's identity for her greed, let's not think she is incapable of doing something mundane again." Rest of them nodded their heads, exchanging a look of wariness before making their way inside the house. Sunghoon stopped Jay from going away, one hand clutching his friend's shoulder, "Jay, I never got good vibes from Ava, don't let her get inside your head, be prepared for whatever okay? She's crazy enough. All you need is to look at me and I'll be there to help you." Jay smiled, nodding his head and assuring Sunghoon.

The party was in full swing, people were dancing around, some were already passed out on the couch, each corner of the house was crammed with people. The room smelled like sweat, alcohol and too many perfumes. Whenever you tried to move, your shoulders would brush against someone. The lights were dim but somehow harsh enough to make you squint. You had previously spotted Ava talking with her cheer squad, and called her aside to greet, give her the gift and go back into your apartment, but she stopped you, requesting you to wait since someone else called her name. Now you were standing beside the alcohol section, near the entrance of her house, waiting for an opportunity to find her alone and get done with it.

"Pretty," you didn't need to turn around to see who called you, his presence, his voice, the way you could feel his body heat on your back was enough for you to confirm who it was, "you're waiting for someone?" You nodded your head but didn't make any effort to change your position, eyes still trained on Ava who was now in the middle of celebrating her birthday. Jay stood beside her, his expressions hard as she cut her cake. She offered the piece of cake to Jay to which he just took it from her hand and fed her instead. The crowd cheered, their screams almost overpowering the music blasting through the speakers.

Then Ava signaled the DJ to pause the music, and the crowd quieted down, everyone gathered around Ava, who stood on the mini-stage along with Jay and some of her friends from the cheer team. Your heartbeat quickened but you felt a gentle squeeze on your shoulder, you looked up and Sunghoon gave you yet another squeeze of reassurance, you smiled at his gesture, a silent thank you, then you trained your eyes back on Ava, who was now looking at everyone with an anxious expression on her face as she announced she wanted to confess something to everyone. You swallowed, crossing your arms across your chest as you waited for her to continue. Jay stood beside her, eyes dark and intense but they softened slightly as he looked at you, your smile was enough to tell him you knew what was going to happen and he heaved a sigh, waiting for Ava to start speaking again.

"Thank you so much for attending my birthday and making it so much special for me," Ava smiled looking at everyone, "I am sure I won't be able to forget this birthday ever." Choruses of oohhs and aahhs spread all throughout the house, Ava shook her head, "I just want to confess something to you guys.....I've been holding it in for a while now." Everyone looked at each other, waiting for Ava to elaborate further, you watched as she looked back at Jay for a minute before her gaze turned back towards the crowd. You held your breath, anxious feelings creeping up on you as you waited for her to continue. "Everything is alright Ava?" Gyuri came forward, the rest of the crowd humming in agreement. She smiled at her, nodding her head, "I will be Gyuri." Sunghoon scoffed at her words as he leaned down towards you, "Oscar season came early huh?" You shivered as his breath hit your ears, a chuckle left his mouth watching her act.

"I feel like everyone deserves to know the truth about what's going on," you froze in your place when she stood beside Jay but her eyes locked in with yours. "The two people I trusted the most went behind my back," Ava's voice trembled as she looked at Jay, "he cheated on me," she exclaimed, pointing directly to you, "with her, my very own best friend." A ripple of gasp fluttered around the house, people glanced in your direction, whispering to each other low and biting. Tears welled up in your eyes, throat closing in, making it hard for you to defend yourself as you watched everyone look at you as if being in your vicinity made them impure.

"I trusted them, both of them but they intentionally chose to betray me like I was nothing." Your chest tightened as Ava continued her sob story of how you betrayed her, people around you started calling you names, whispers of you being a homewrecker, a whore, an attention seeking good for nothing slut, a nobody with a pretty best friend, a jealous bitch who couldn't watch her friend be happy. You shut your eyes, covering your ears with humiliation. "Avalyn!" Jay approached her, his tone dangerously even, "what the hell are you talking about?"

Sunghoon sighed as three of them made their way towards the stage where Ava and Jay were standing. Everyone's attention was fixed on the three band members who now stood at the foot of the stage as they watched the scene in front of them. Ava laughed bitterly, nose and cheeks red, and eyes glassy with unshed tears, "why are you acting innocent, I'm surely not the only one who noticed you pulling away from me, you didn't even sit next to me in cafeteria anymore, instead you were always around her, talking in whispers, about anything and everything, you think I wouldn't notice? You thought no one would believe the truth just because you're popular?"

"Oh I know you're not the one talking about popularity Ava!" All eyes turned towards Sunghoon who stepped up on the stage, eyes burning into Ava's, "you claimed to be the person who wrote those anonymous letters to Jay, you lied to everyone just so you could date Jay and get attention," everyone turned quiet, watching Sunghoon behave so rudely for the first time. Some of them turned towards you, trying to puzzle the pieces together. Jay stepped forward, grabbing Ava's arm to make her face him, "you lied to me, took advantage of someone else's words of love and used it for your selfish reasons and I pulled away from you when I caught your lie." Ava's eyes scanned everyone's face, lips trembling as she could feel everyone doubting her words, then her eyes fell upon you, her eyes darkening with anger, again.

"You're just deflecting because I caught you cheating!" She yanked her arm off his grasp, stepping back a little, "no! I'm clearing my name, if I was someone who treated relationships as casual, I would've dated countless girls and not waited for the right one!" The crowd started murmuring, words of agreement spread throughout as they realized the honesty Jay's words held, they never saw him entertain any girls before. Ava's breathing grows uneven when the room remains silent, no sympathy in their eyes, just observing, watching the drama unfold. "Are you done with your lies now? I told you we could part ways peacefully if you just confess about lying and come clean but you decided to drag me and your best friend through the mud just so you could have an upper hand."

Ava stepped closer to him, voice low but filled with venom, "you're really painting me as a villain because I claimed something that wasn't mine?" Jay stood there, his posture stiff and jaw clenched as Ava wasn't giving up, "you lied, Ava." She scoffed, tears clinging to her lashes, "but you believed me without a second thought Jay, and you believed me because you were desperate to be loved and I did just that, so how am I the villain?" You stepped back, unable to keep yourself together, the room felt too suffocating, you turned around towards the door trying to get out of the situation, to where? You didn't know, you just needed to get out of there. People watched as she spiraled more and more, concern spreading throughout the room, "and don't defend her like she needs to be saved," her voice lowered enough only Jay could hear, "she knew."

Slow smirk forming on her face, "She knew the whole truth but she chose to stay quiet." Jay froze, heart stopping at the cruel revelation, "you're lying..." but the look on Ava's face was enough for Jay to realize she wasn't lying this time. "She knew from the beginning, she watched me take the credit for those letters, watched you fall for them, and still chose to say nothing. So how are we different now?" Jay's eyes scan your figure amongst the crowd, like looking for you would give him some answers. Jay could barely hear a word coming from Ava's mouth, he felt his chest tightened, with disappointment? Betrayal? Or something else entirely? He wasn't sure.

Sunghoon leaned closer to Jay, informing him about you leaving the house. He pushed Jay down the stage so he would follow you. It took some time for him to snap out of everything and his feet started moving before his mind could catch up. Ava stood still, eyes trained on the way the crowd watched Jay run towards the door. Ava's figure trembled with anger, but underneath all the fury there was fear. Because she could see the closeness you and Jay shared couldn't be erased, not even now, now even after her lies were laid bare in front of everyone. Her feet moved, she couldn't let this moment be the one responsible for her downfall, Sunghoon grabbed her hand, pulling her back harshly, "we aren't done with you Ava," He looked back, Jake and Heeseung joining him as they cornered Ava, "can’t really let you walk away without leaving a scar for what you did to our best friend, now can we?"

Sunghoon turned towards the door, watching Jay run off towards the direction he gave him, Jay stopped when he reached the door, turning around to find himself locking eyes with Sunghoon who was holding Ava back from following him. Jay waited for him to say something, but Sunghoon just smiled, nodding his head at Jay and ushering him to follow you. Jay's lips trembled but he nodded back, turning around with newfound determination to find you. He walked down the stairs, looking around to see if he could catch a single glimpse of you, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the neat style he previously did. He swallowed hard, taking deep breaths, when he spotted something sparkling around the corner of the block. He ran towards that direction, praying and hoping you'd still be there.

You were walking down the sidewalk, mind too clouded and eyes too hazy to hear footsteps edging closer. You felt someone grab your hand and yank you back, then you heard the faintest whisper of your name, the voice slightly laboured, out of breath. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight of him, not expecting him to follow you out, you wanted to say something, anything but the look in his eyes, the way his lips trembled as he looked at you, the way his jaw was clenched as if he was holding something back, stopped you to saying anything further. For a moment he just looked at you, at your reddened eyes and tears stricken face but all it did was take him back a few moments ago when Ava told him the truth.

"You knew," he stated, his voice low and laced with something too broken to name, "Avalyn told me you knew she didn't write those letter, and you never told me..." your heart cracked at the slight crack in his voice as he talked, you opened your mouth but no words came out. He removed his hand from you, stepping closer till your toes touch, "all this time," he laughed bitterly, blinking a couple of times to wash away the tears that threatened to fall, "you watched me believe her, fall for a fake version of her, I trusted her, I trusted you, you're the only person with whom I shared the struggles of my relationship with, about how the letters made me feel seen, about how your best friend wasn't living up to it and you just let me?"

His words cut through you like a knife, you swallowed hard, throat dry, "it wasn't my place-" "wasn't your place?" He spat, eyes burning with betrayal and underlying heartbreak, "I thought you were my friend." Your head hung low, tears slipping down your cheeks, ashamed that you let everything spiral to this, "I'm your friend," your voice cracked, hands clenching into fist, you couldn't bring yourself to look at Jay, too guilty to feel worthy enough to do so. He shook his head as he watched you trembling in front of him, his hands itched to just pull you closer and hug you till it all started making sense. But he just shook his head instead.

The silence stretched for too long, none of you moved, your mind was swirling with hundreds of reasons you could give in order to justify your actions to him but none of them felt worthy enough to say out loud. Jay's hand trembled as they cupped your face, he placed his thumbs below your chin to tilt your face upward, "do you know how humiliating it was to find out that the entire foundation of my relationship was fake? That the girl who confessed about writing letters to me just played with my heart to get a few people to glance her way?" He wiped away the tears that fell down your cheeks, and leaned his forehead against yours, "and you? You let me believe in all of those things, you watched me make a fool of myself and didn't feel I'm worthy enough to know the truth."

Your breath hitched, hands reaching up to curl around his jacket to ground yourself, "I didn't want to hurt you Jay." He brushed his nose against you then stepped back, eyes red, hair disheveled as he narrowed his eyes at you, "isn't it too late to say that?" You closed your eyes as a choked sob escaped from your mouth, you couldn't even look at him without feeling the need to rip your heart apart. He was hurting, and he was hurting because of you. He studied you for a moment, even though every fibre of his body told him to just reach out to you, he took another step back, "I just," he ran his hand through his hair, visibly overwhelmed, "I don't know who I can trust anymore."

You opened your eyes at his words, "Jay," you started but he backed away even though you stayed glued in your spot, "wait here. Sunghoon will come and drop you off." And you watched him turn around and walk back towards Ava's house. You could see the weight of the betrayal, the disappointment, the truth weighing on his shoulders as he walked away and you stood there, watching the boy you love unraveling and breaking right in front of you. After a while, Sunghoon's car pulled up beside you and he got off, running towards where you stood, your arms circled around his waist, tears streaming down your face and sipping into his shirt. He held you close, rubbing your back to console you. The drive towards your apartment was silent, he glanced at you from time to time to check if you were doing fine. You bid him goodbye, assuring him that you'll call him if it felt too suffocating. He kissed your forehead, and pulled out of your building.

Jay was laid wide awake in his bedroom, still wearing the same clothes from the party, now slightly crumpled and disheveled. He blinked at the ceilings, recalling back to everything that led him to this moment. It felt surreal, the anonymous letters, the lie, the hope he had, the connection he shared with you, your lie, and the moment it all crashed down. He rubbed his face, groaning in his hands for being so stupid, he blamed himself for not verifying Ava's claim, for trusting her blindly. He wondered how his life would've been if he never received those letters, if he never let himself believe that someone was out there loving him the way he didn't know he needed. Maybe he got selfish after reading those letters.

He wondered how the person who originally wrote the letters must've felt after learning Ava claimed the letters as hers, about why that person never came forward to expose her lie, then his thoughts drifted to you. He still remembered the way his heart dropped when Ava told him you knew the truth all along, how even after knowing you deliberately chose to lie his heart still ached for you. How watching you crying in front of him felt like thousands of glass pieces pierced his skin, all at once. How one teary look from your eyes was enough for him to get on his knees for you. And it all confused him to no extent, he was sure he loved the person who wrote him the letters and he knew there was no one else who could see him the way they did, or make him feel the way their words did.

But now here he was, drowning in your thoughts, realization dawning upon him that even if you somehow decided to stab him with a knife, he would happily help you by placing it in the middle of his heart. That he somehow managed to fall in love with you so hard that he isn't sure what to do with his feelings. He knew he should've told you off, called you a liar, broken ties with you just like he did with Ava, because you were her best friend and you took part in her lies, that should've been the case but it wasn't. Instead, he just found himself looking for you amidst the crowd, his heart pounding and he ran off to find you, how his heart clenched at the sight of your trembling form and how relieved he felt after knowing you were safe.

He sighed, sitting up straight and switching on the lights of his room. He had been trying to sleep but he couldn't with all these thoughts running in his mind. His eyes wandered around his room as he grabbed the glass of water from his nightstand and drank it. He stopped when his eyes landed on the notebook neatly placed on his desk, your notebook, which you dropped as you rushed to attend the seminar. Despite his better judgement, his steps carried him towards his desk anyway. He picked up the notebook, fingers tracing the stem of the book, smiling softly at the little heart you drew at the corner of the cover page. He traced the heart with his thumb as if to picture you doodling it while you were thinking about something.

There wasn't a single thought behind his eyes when he opened your notebook, no suspicion, no curiosity, just a causal reach, a familiar motion which one does when they have a book in their hand. He didn't mean to see anything inside the book, but the second the pages parted and his eyes caught the words written inside, something shifted, like his heart recognized something his mind was yet to figure out. His fingers stilled against the paper, breath hitching as he looked at the pages, turning over a few more, just in case. He stumbled a bit, like the floor beneath his feet decided to slip off, and fell on his bed, he exhaled a deep breath, eyes trained on the book and your handwriting staring back at him, achingly familiar, too familiar and it hurt.

His fingers hovered over the ink, as if he felt the words would vanish if he touched them carelessly. But they didn't, they stayed, etched in the unmistakable way you write your words, the same pauses, the same rhythm. He flipped open the last page of the book and his throat tightened as he read a few lines that were scribbled recklessly, the handwriting a bit messy as if you wanted to hold onto the words before they disappeared from your head. Lines he recognized instantly, the one he knew he had read before, not in your notebook but in one of the letters that are neatly tucked inside the box. He grabbed the box and searched for the letters where you wrote those exact same lines dedicated to him. Keeping them side by side.

'I think you look the best as the sun sets, the sun's rays kissing your face in a gentle goodbye. Even the ground beneath you looks beautiful coated in your silhouette, and I wonder if I'll ever be able to stop seeing that version of you when I close my eyes.' He remembered those lines, he remembered how you wrote that you watched him enter the campus with his bandmates as he laughed at something his friends said, how you watched him till he disappeared from your sight from the library's crooked window, how you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by how beautiful he looked and how deeply you were falling for him. His hands trembled as he clutched the notebook in his hands and made his way towards his car, towards you. He couldn't wait till next morning to talk to you, not after everything you both have been through, not after all the wait and longing.

You were sitting on your couch, hands in your hair, regretting everything that led you to this moment. All you wanted was to express your love for a person who helped you when you were at your lowest, a quiet support to let him know he wasn't alone. You still recalled writing him your first letter after you heard his parents berate him for choosing a musical career instead of their family business, they way his shoulders slumped, how hurt embraced him like an old friend. All you wanted was to let him know that he's loved, he's seen, and that his struggles aren't invisible. And maybe you did reach your goal, made him feel all the things you intended on making him feel but then everything shattered, like a twisted fairytale. And here you were, replaying it all, wishing you'd never sent those letters to him to spare him from the hurt that now made home in his eyes.

You wiped the tears that streamed down your cheeks, they seemed to be never ending, you'd sit for a while, blankly staring at nothing in particular then a sudden wave of emotions would dawn on you and tears would well up. You didn't try to stop them, didn't try to think of something that would numb all the pain. You deserved it, after all you had chosen to side with Ava instead of correcting her mistakes, so you let yourself feel, let yourself cry, let yourself hurt. You stood up, deciding to let sleep distract you from your feelings for a few hours would be a good option, you didn't want to bother Sunghoon with your feelings, he already did so much for you.

You turned around towards your bedroom, stopping mid-step as the echo of your doorbell bounced off your apartment walls. You frowned, wondering who would be visiting you at this hour. Still, you made your way towards the door, and opened it without a second thought, Jay stood in front of you, breathless, eyes red, then your eyes fell upon something he was holding tight in his hand. A notebook, yours to be specific. He didn't say anything right away, just stared at you as your brain pieced together the puzzle. You tilted your head upward, heart racing as you looked at him when a voice at the back of your head chimed in, he knows.

You weren't sure what to expect now that your secret has been revealed, you didn't not expect to see him again so soon, especially not with your notebook clutched in his hand at least. He walked towards you, and you wordlessly backed away to give him space, he hesitated before reluctantly stepping forward and keeping the book on the table by your entrance, "you left this behind," he mumbled, looking towards the notebook and not you, his voice hoarse as if it had been scratched. Then he turned towards you, stepping forward till there was no space left for you to go, "I read it." You swallowed, heart thundering inside your chest, "why did you? It was you....all this time....you." You inhaled sharply, mind racing with countless of things you could say to make this situation less messy and complicated than it had become, but before you could speak, he closed the distance, almost desperately, almost as if staying one second away from you was eating him up alive.

His lips met yours, not softly, not hesitantly. His fingers tangled in your hair, another one snaking around your waist to pull you close. Your hands found home on his shoulders, gasping at the sheer shock of it all. He kissed you like it was his elixir, the only thing that made the ache in his heart subsidize for a while. The kiss was everything, pain, longing, anger, love, all wrapped into one reckless moment of affection. He pulled back enough for both of you to breathe the air but not far enough that you'd miss his touch. His hand was still tangled in your hair, he gave it a gentle tug to tilt your head towards him, "I'm so fucking mad at you," his lips brushed against yours as he uttered those words, low and seething, "but I've never wanted anything else more than this."

He stepped back while you were still frozen in one place, his kiss lingering on your lips like a confession and goodbye at the same time. You opened your eyes, your breathing shallow, a little bit shaky as you watched him pace around your living room. You hesitated reaching out for him, like if you moved quickly the moment would shatter and vanish like it never happened in the first place. "Jay," you started, softly this time, fearing he would stop you yet again and leave you hanging, when he didn't, you took it as a sign to continue, "I never meant for you to know it's me." He stopped, his back turned towards you, "but I needed to..." turning around and stepping closer to you, "I needed to know it was you." Your lips trembled, you looked down to prevent him from watching you break yet again.

His hand reached up to cup your face, other reaching forward to hold your hand, "I was so angry," he breathed, leaning his forehead on yours, "At Ava, at you, at myself. I thought maybe all of it was just a fragment of my imagination, that none of this was real." You blinked, nodding your head, unsure of whether this is where he leaves or forgives you, "but then I saw this notebook, your handwriting, and I knew it was real, that you are real." Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them back. "Why didn't you tell me?" He questioned, his nose brushing against yours, "I didn't tell you because I never thought you'd ever see me that way."

He kissed away the tears that managed to escape your eyes, your heart swelling with emotions at the softness of his actions, "don't say that, you don't get to decide how I feel about you, about us." He kissed your forehead, staying there for a beat or two, "I was looking for someone who was by my side the whole time, who made me feel seen, yet I was blind enough to never recognize the calm I felt in your presence was so achingly familiar."

"I never planned on coming out of the shadows, Jay. I just wanted to love you from afar, because I felt someone like me would never be able to keep up with someone like you. But Ava changed everything and I couldn't do anything about it. I tried warning her, but you looked so happy when she confessed that I couldn’t bring myself to tell the truth." You choked a sob, leaning your head on his shoulder as you cried. He held you close, kissing your head as he tried to blink back his own tears. "I fell in love with your words first, but it was your presence that made me fall deeper." And then without another word, he pulled you in for another kiss, soft and slow before it turned into something hungrier and needy.

"You said you weren't sure if I wanted you right?" He mumbled, not breaking the kiss, he pushed you towards your bedroom, a soft gasp leaving your lips at the abrupt movement, he took it as an opportunity to ease his tongue in your mouth, exploring, carving and claiming every corner of you as his, "let me show you how much I want you." His kisses trailed down from your mouth, to your jaw, his hand tilting your head slightly to pepper kisses down your throat. Your hand clutched his shirt, other sliding up from his chest to the nape of his neck and pulling his hair lightly. He groaned against your neck, sending shivers down your spine, his tongue lapping at your sweet spot. You moaned, he took it as a sign to suck on the same spot till a mark bloomed on it.

He pulled away, your body trembling as the air hit the spot where he licked. "You want me to show you?" He whispered, giving you a chance to back out if this isn't what you wanted, you gulped, taking a step closer, lips hovering above his, just enough, enough to drive him crazy with the distance, enough to have him begging for more, "yes," you sighed against his lips before grabbing his collar and pulling him down for another kiss. His hands travelled down from your neck, to your waist and finally they settled down low on your hips, pulling you closer so you could feel his hardening length against your thigh. You bit his bottom lip in response, which pulled a hiss from his mouth, hands tightening around your hips like he didn't want you to stop.

You felt his hand knead on the skin at the swell of your ass, your hands curling around his neck to bring him closer. He tapped your thigh, once, twice while leaning down and you took it as a sign to jump as he gave you support and carried you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and he pushed your body against the wall. He pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips making him moan. He looked at you with a heavy, drunk in euphoria stare, a lopsided smile adorning his face as he took in your form, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, hair messy and swollen lips. He decided it was one of his favorite looks.

His hand slid up from your waist, to your chest, stopping briefly to see you whimper before it reached your neck. He curled his finger around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze and you whined, throwing your head back, legs instinctively tightening around his hips. He smirked, leaning closer, "I need you to use your voice for me, butterfly. You think you could do that for me?" You nodded your head, aroused by the intensity of it all. He gave your neck another squeeze, a bit more firm, like a warning, "use your words, butterfly." You moaned, eyes rolling back, "yes." He smiled, releasing his hold from your neck and giving your neck a gentle kiss, "good girl."

Your hands that rested on his shoulders, rose up to cradle his face as he continued to lick, suck and bite your neck. You tilted his head, reconnecting your lips with his as if you couldn't just get enough of it. He groaned, one hand sliding at the nape of your neck to deepen the kiss and the other pressing into the skin of your arm, squeezing the flesh to anchor himself. He traced his tongue on your lips, before capturing your lips again, biting at the skin, silently asking you to let him in. His fingers then pulled at the hem of your top, tugging at it impatiently, you broke off the kiss, pulling the top over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. His pupils dilated, hunger creeping in as he looked at you like he had been starving.

You swallowed hard, for the first time in your life you were watching someone unravel because of you without even doing anything wild. His ragged breath made you bold, you ran your fingers through his scalp before grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging it. He moaned, his lips attaching to the unmarked area of your chest, his hands sliding up and stopping just below the swell of your breast, "is this okay butterfly? Can I touch you here?" You whined, arching your chest, needy for his touch, "please," you whispered, almost as if it physically pained you because he wasn't touching you and he sighed, biting his lips and reaching up to squeeze your boobs.

"Let me take this off," His hands found the clasp of your bra, detaching it in one swift motion, he pulled the bra off of you and threw it down. Your eyes widened, low-key impressed by his 'bra-removing-expertise' but your train of thoughts broke off just as you felt his lips on your nipple, he liked it, then blew air on it, sending shiver throughout your body, his hand softly massaging the other one. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the wall as he switched between both of your boobs, heat pooling between your legs, begging for attention. He took his time with your boobs, relishing at the sound of your soft sighs. He licked up your neck, placing a slow kiss on it, you grind your hips against his, a groan ripping out of his throat at the sudden sensation. His hands supported your back as he turned around and walked towards the bed, gently laying you down.

He stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming on your half-naked self, he climbed up, gulping at the sight before him, "so beautiful." Your hands instinctively cross over your chest, frown appearing on his face at your actions, "don't be embarrassed, it's just me." He hovered over you, hands on your side, he removed your arms from your chest, dipping his head low and placing gentle kisses all over your chest, mumbling sweet nothings in between. Your hands fists the sheets, as he moved lower, his eyes trained on the way your expression changed with every movement of his. He stopped as he reached near the waistband of your shorts, sucking and marking the area around your hips. Your breath shuddered, eyes closing.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Your body relaxed as you felt Jay's voice vibrate through the skin of your stomach, you looked at him, hands on both sides of your hips as he found home in between your legs, chin propped up on your stomach, pupil blown wide as he waited for your answer. You ran your fingers through his hair, a small smile gracing your lips before the heat in between your legs became too much to handle, "yes, love." He got up, sitting on his knees as he started removing his shirt. You reached up, rising slightly to help him, eager to have him close. He threw his shirt somewhere near the bed, you sat up, trailing kisses from his torso to his chest. He tangled his fingers on your hair, not pulling, just holding. His eyes met with your lust filled one and you bit on his nipple, then placed a kiss, he moaned, loud enough that he surprised himself, and he pushed you back on the bed, connecting his lips back to yours.

His hands travelled down your body, squeezing, gripping, tracing, the skin beneath his hands, "you're so soft, butterfly." His fingers dig inside the waistband of your shorts, your breath hitched in anticipation, he looked at you once before he pulled both your shorts and panties off of you, together, in one swift motion. You tried closing your legs, the air around you feeling cool against the slick in between your folds. "You're dripping butterfly, all this for me?" He dipped down, fingers separating your folds to get a better look at your dripping hole, you whined, clenching around nothing as his words went straight into your core. His breath fanning against your folds, he slid up two of his fingers on your slit, your hips jolting with surprise, legs shaking.

He kept an eye on your face, in case you felt uncomfortable, he rubbed your clit in small circles, your legs digging in the bed, back arching. Your hand gripped his shoulder, the other one holding the wrist of his hand which was making you see stars. "I'll be putting a finger in love," he waited for your reply then carefully inserted his middle finger inside your hole, you gasped, lead lifting off the pillow, his head dipped down, capturing your lips in his to help you get distracted. He started moving his finger when you let out a strained whine, his movements slow and steady as he waited for your body to adjust to the feeling. "So good, Jay." He smiled at your words, carefully inserting his index finger and curling them inside you to test out the waters.

"Jay," you moaned, eyes rolling back, he continued his movements, increasing his pace, he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, "damn love, you're doing so good for me." Your chest rose and fell, heart racing, mind filled with pleasure, you could feel a knot forming in your stomach, "Jay, I think- I think I'm gonna cum," Jay smiled at you, already feeling your release close before you even said anything, "yeah? Cum all over my fingers butterfly, make a mess." You nodded, brows furrowing at the overwhelming feeling, "shit, Jay don't stop," your breath shuttered, pleasure washing over you. Jay's movements slowed down, his eyes trained on the way your juices coated his fingers, his head dipped down, licking a long strip on your pussy, your hands flew onto his head, pulling at his hair at the sudden action.

His fingers gain their pacing again, as his tongue works on your clit, "Jay, it's too much, I can't." He groans when he feels you pull at his hair, "you can do it love, give me another one please." He laps at your pussy, eating it like it's his last meal, his hips slightly rut against the bed, aching to get some friction, you bite your lips, trying to supress your moans with how good he's making you feel and it's not long before you come undone again. He removed his fingers from your pussy and you whined at the empty feeling, you watched as he looked at you before putting his fingers at his mouth and licking them clean. His hands then spread your legs wider, tongue darting out to lick you clean. You shiver, legs closing around his head, feeling overstimulated after cumming twice, he laps at your pussy, smiling at you when he's done.

You pull the waistband of his jeans, a little impatient but eager to help him with his needs, "take it off." He chuckled at your needy tone as he removed his jeans and boxer, his hardened lock slapping against his abs. You gulped, mouth salivating at the sight, he looked so gorgeous as he kneeled before you, eyes closing momentarily as he stroked himself lightly, spreading his precum on his length. He climbed over you, his cock slapping against your thigh. He sighed, wiping the sweat dripping off your forehead and removing the hair sticking on your face. "So beautiful, could eat you out for hours, butterfly, you taste so good." You flush at his words, slapping his chest lightly, he laughed, leaning up to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.

He rubbed his cock against your fold to gather you slick, his hands placed on either side of your head, one of your hands held his shoulder while the other ran through his hair. He kissed you, gentle and soft as he lined himself up in your entrance, your breath hitched at the mere contact, legs tightening beside his waist, he groaned against the kiss, his hand sliding down to keep your legs open wide as he pushed himself in you, slow and steady. You hissed, feeling his tip enter your dripping cunt, he kissed you all throughout, mumbling words of encouragement and praises in between as he slowly bottomed out inside you. "Fuck butterfly, you're so fucking tight around me, it's like you're sucking me in, love."

You whimpered, feeling full, he looked at you, showering kisses across your face till you adjusted to his size so he could move. "Tell me when you'll be ready, okay love? Take your time." You nodded your head, kissing and marking his neck to distract yourself from momentary pain, his neck chain shining, against your face, "please move, Jay, fuck." He gave you a peck before pulling out of your pussy all the way, then sliding back in, in one swift motion. Your back arched, as a strangled moan left your lips. His hands trembled just hearing you moan right next to his ears. The sounds are going straight in his cock.

He pulled out, only to thrust back in, slow and deep, his eyesbrows furrowed as he tried his best not to lose control and fuck you senseless. You moaned, your walls clenching around his length, his chain hitting your face in the same rhythm his hips snapped against yours. "Faster, please." He leaned his head on yours, his movements steady as he smirked at you, "you want it faster my love?" You nodded frantically, and he bit your lip as he adjusted himself to increase his pace. He started slamming his length into you faster, and harder and with the way your walls were trying to suck him into you, he knew you were close. One of his hands slid down your body to rub circles around your clit to heighten your pleasure.

"Ah fuck, Jay!" He smirked as you held onto him like your life depended on it, "you're taking me so well baby, this pussy," he groaned, hand never stopping their movement on your clit, "made for me." You whined, nails digging on his shoulders, his chain repeatedly hitting your face, you frowned tilting your head up and parted your lips, and as the chain hit your face again, you trapped it between your teeth, Jay froze at he felt a abrupt tug on his neck, looking down towards you he breathed out a pained sigh, completely unraveling. His hips recovered their pace, hips slamming against yours. You released the chain and he dipped his head to suck your nipple.

"Fuck, Jay, I'm close so close," He released your nipple only to focus on the other one, "me too, I'm close too butterfly, cum with me, cover me with your juices, love, fuck." His movements became sloppy, losing the rhythm as he fucked you recklessly, you moaned one last time as your orgasm washed over you, he rode you through your high before spilling his seeds inside of you, long spruts if cum dripping out of his cock, you whined feeling the heat of his cum spilling inside if you. "I love you," you opened your eyes to see smiling down at you, the soft glow of your bedroom light framed him in gold, casting a quiet halo around his body, he chuckled lightly, wiping the tear that escaped your eyes without even you knowing, your lips trembled, "I love you too."

He closed his eyes, dropping his weight on you as he hugged you close, burying his face on your neck, still buried deep inside you. You hugged his shoulders, massaging his scalp as both of you regained your breath. "Come one, let me clean you up so we can sleep." You whined at his words and he chuckled, scooping you in his arms instead and took you inside the bathroom to clean you and himself up. You shuddered as he cleaned your pussy, feeling overstimulated and sore. He mumbled quick apologies, cleaning himself up, changing the sheets and climbing up on the bed with you to finally sleep.

The hallway is empty, save for a few students who are scattered across in little groups, you're sitting inside the empty classroom, gathering your belongings as you texted Jay that you'll be heading to his house soon. A small smile gracing up on your face at the mere thought of spending time with him. You're so busy with yourself that you don't hear her approach you. But the moment a pair of heels come into view, you glance up and Ava is already looking down at you, standing in front of you like she had been searching for you all day. Her eyes are red, almost as if she had been crying all week, her perfect hair frying at the edges, but it's her eyes, raw, wild and angry, you stand up.

"You're such a great actress," she says, low and seething as she looked at you, "you wrote those letters and let me play the role of a fool as I claimed to be the one who wrote your letters. You let me be the thief." You opened your mouth but she cut you off, stepping forward, every movement sharp with fury, "was this your ultimate plan? To humiliate me? Let me take the fall so you could step on me and reclaim the spot as yours?" Your eyebrow twitched, words flying off of your mind at her accusations, "No!" You sharply declined, stepping towards her instead of backing away like you always did, "you don't get to play the victim here Ava, you did this all upon yourself. Yes I wrote those letters, yes I let you claim it as yours but I did it for Jay."

You stood tall, having enough of her tantrums and manipulation, "I did it because he looked so happy when I saw him with you. You didn't ask me when you claimed those letters as yours, I even warned you but you are so selfish, you only think about yourself." She laughed, eyes squinting, "you let me live in the spotlight while you sat there watching me like some pathetic loser, what does that make me now?" Her voice crumbled, not from pain but from fury, "nothing, that's what I am now! I lost Jay, I lost my spotlight, I lost....you. and you were supposed to be someone who would never leave." Your heart broke watching her breakdown in front of you but you knew better.

"You were mine, my best friend, my shadow. You weren't supposed to overtake me, you were supposed to stay behind me!" She stepped closer, but you stepped back, she froze, realization hitting her on the face that the power she once had on you is over now. "You don't complain when you make your own plate, Ava. I warned you but you never listened. I stayed with you even when I knew you were using me to satisfy your ego, I thought you'd change but no, you don't care about anyone else but you and your image, and now that you've lost it, you're trying to manipulate me into thinking I was at fault. You wouldn't be in this situation if you never lied." She laughed, "wow, you really are the cruel one," she whispered. She stepped back, her heels echoing off the empty classroom and she left. And you were left standing there, watching her go out of your classroom and your life.

"Yeah yeah, I'll be there soon," Jay replied to Heeseung while packing his things inside his bag. He was currently in the music room of the university while everyone else was waiting for him to join them at a hangout spot they usually go to, the bridge that overlooks a river. He hung up the phone, his screen blinking with Heeseung's contact photo. He shook his head, locking his screen and continuing with his actions. He looked around to check if he forgot anything when he noticed he left his music book on the table, he grabbed the book hurriedly before placing it inside his bag.

An envelope fell down from his book due to his frantic movements and he stopped, crouching down to pick it up. His chest fluttered when he opened it, a handwriting which he had seen countless times appearing in front of his eyes, he smiled in amusement, wondering when you put this letter inside his book. He opened the letter anyway, deciding that waiting till the day was over would be too much for his curious heart.

My Jay,

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me thanking the heavens for blessing you in my life, smiling at the thought that I was lucky to have you, thinking about how I ended up with you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me looking for you everywhere I go, trying to trace your face amongst the crowd, yearning for being in your presence.

If you look into my eyes, amidst all the lingering eyes and subtle glances, you'll find me staring at you, watching you giggle, and when I get caught, I look away hiding my blush.

If you look into my eyes, you'll see how much your presence affects me, wanting to be the center of your universe. If I could, I would spend eternity with you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me clutching onto our dreams, a bit insecure about our future, still determined to take the tempting risk.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find how deeply I'm into you, so much so to the point I sometimes scare myself, thinking about how hard life would be without you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me standing by the river, gently letting the wind engulf my heart, looking at you longingly as you try your best not to fall.

If you look into my eyes, you'll see a tired soul, just wanting to love and to be loved, wondering if you feel it the way I do.

If you look into my eyes, you'll feel the love that pours out of me, just look up and stare directly at my eyes, you'll find me clutching at our dreams.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find yourself.

Yours,

Butterfly.

PS: I know you're wondering when I put this letter inside, but you'd never know, I'm kind of very good at this whole secret admirer agenda. Don't expect anything else, just because I'm dating you doesn't mean these letters will stop. I'm very much in love with you, but there are still some moments where I'm too shy to say what I want to say, but I need you to know how much I love you, so these letters are my armour. I wrote this for you recently, and I wanted you to read that!

He smiled, feeling warmth spread all throughout him as he folded the letter and put it inside the envelope, making a mental note to keep it inside the box when he reached back home. He sighed, content at how things have turned out. He still had a long way to go with his parents but you were by his side now, so he was glad he wouldn't have to face it alone. He felt at peace with you, never felt the need to say much. He was zoned out, drowning in his thoughts when his phone rang again, he snapped out of his thoughts, answering Heeseung's calls, "I'm done bro, I was just leaving."

"How many fingers can you see?" You glared at Jake, who currently stood beside you holding up 4 fingers in front of your face, "four," you muttered through gritted teeth, you could hear Heeseung chuckle from behind you, which annoyed you more. You put your glasses back, shoving Jake's shoulders. "You can see, why do you need glasses," you rubbed your temple, sighing in disappointment, "I'm not THAT blind, I just need them to see more clearly, stupid." Jake looked at you like you had just committed a crime against his dignity, "woah, did you just call me stupid? After all the love and affection I shower you with?" He placed a hand on his heart, staggering back a step, "me? The one who puts up with you squinting at traffic lights?"

Your mouth fell open at his words, you lurched forward, attempting to grab his precious hair as he didn't seem to back down from his teasing you. Heeseung laughed at both of you, clutching his stomach, beside him Sunghoon just shook his head, an amused smile plastered on his face as he stepped forward to separate Jake from your fury. "See, and you wonder why I call her trouble!" You stuck your tongue out at Jake, who was trying to make his hair more presentable after you messed it, trying to win an argument like a five year old, which worked somehow because Jake whined, clearly more irritated.

Jake gave you a side eye before turning around dramatically and walked off, joining Heeseung and complaining about how mean you are and how you never seem to return the love he showers you with, and how he feels that his best friend's agenda is one sided and you never considered him as such. You laughed at him, and he threw you an annoyed glance. You heard Sunghoon clear his throat from behind you and you turned around, standing beside him, overlooking the river as both of you leaned against the railing. "You know," you turned your head in his direction, but he wasn't looking at you, instead focusing his eyes on the view in front of him, "you used to make my heart race, at some time." You saw him swallow, a soft smile adorning his face, your heart skipped a beat, but you still hummed in response, "now you make me question your maturity level on a daily basis."

You gasped in mock offense, turning your head back at the river flowing gently in front of you, "excuse you, I just reciprocate the energy people give me." He chuckled, his fang-like teeth making an appearance, "whatever helps you sleep at night pretty." You pout at his words, bumping your shoulder with his playfully, he bumps back, just enough to make you slightly wobble on your spot. "Hey! I could've fallen," you whined, holding onto the railing tightly as if he would try to bump into you again, "don't worry, I would have fallen with you before letting you do it alone." You felt your heart tightened at his words but when you looked at him, you could see a teasing glint in his eyes, like he knew those words would make you stumble a bit.

You shook your head, smiling softly at his words, "see I don't doubt your words but I was hoping you'd just pull me back instead of falling with me." He chuckled at your words, ruffling your hair before retracting his hand back. "I'm glad it's you," He mumbled after sometime, "with Jay, I mean." He was already looking at you when you turned your head towards him, the wind messing his hair. You smiled, feeling warmth spread over you, "and I'm glad, you are still beside me." He nodded, tearing his eyes away from you, "I know....I think I'm exactly where I am supposed to be." You gulped, still looking at his face, you could see he wanted to say something more, so you just nudged his shoulder and arched your eyebrows at him.

It got quiet for a second, wind flowing through your hair as you stood with him in silence yet it was enough, for you both, it would always be enough, "I think some part of me loved you even before I realized it, you're good, a steady kind of good, the type where I know I could lean on you and never have to worry about falling apart." You nodded, biting your lips at his sudden confession, "and I loved you, not in the way like I love Jay, but something just as real, something I still do." His smile turned a little melancholic but still held the same warmth nonetheless, "I'm glad at the way things turned out, that you got Jay just how you wanted, it pained me to watch him be with Ava, second guessing everything in his life." You exhaled, memories resurfacing in front of your eyes, "you pushed me towards him when all you wanted was to hold me, it's something which I will never forget, Hoon."

"Oh, this dangerously looks like someone is trying to bond without me," you both turn around at the voice, you don't move but you're already grinning like a lovesick fool, the wind mess with your hair lightly and Sunghoon just smiles like he had been waiting for Jay to make his entrance. "Relax, lover boy, she's still yours." Jay rolled his eyes at Sunghoon's words, making his way towards where you stood and sliding his arms around both of your shoulders, pulling you both in. "We were just talking," you grinned, nuzzling into his warmth, "talking huh?" He teased, playing with your ear. Sunghoon snorted, clearly amused at the exchange, "yeah talking, want me to narrate everything to you so you'd feel included?"

Jay shook his head as Sunghoon leaned his head on his shoulder, "trouble comes in pairs in my life." You and Sunghoon laughed at his words, not really defending his claim, then Jay sighed, a content smile gracing on his lips, "lucky for me though, I'm clingy and not emotionally constipated." You scrunch your nose in response, just as Sunghoon faked his cough, "and humble too, apparently," you joked, rolling your eyes though you had a fond smile on your face. "Seriously though..." Jay trailed off, kissing your temple as you hand reached up to give his hand a gentle squeeze, "I don't think I've ever felt this steady in my life, like I know even if the world around me starts to spin I've got people who would have my back."

"And we've got your back too," Heeseung replied, standing beside Sunghoon, who then draped his hand on Heeseung's shoulder, while Jake joined your side, his hands interlocking yours as he looked at everyone, "Wow, this shit almost made me cry." Everyone groaned, nagging at him for ruining the moment. "It's so stupid, but I feel so lucky right now," Jay chuckled, biting back his emotions. "You're definitely stupid, but hey at least you're self aware," Heeseung laughed, looking at everyone with softness. Jay shook his head as he dramatically sighed, "I take it back, I'm not lucky, I'm doomed." Sunghoon chimed in, not missing a beat, "you still chose us, real tragic."

ruby is your best friend in the entire world. 

it’s a fact you find yourself repeating in your head more often than you’d like to admit. almost like you’re reminding yourself that you love this girl. 

it’s easy to realize that you love ruby when it’s just the two of you. whether you’re hanging out in her apartment watching a movie or at a cafe getting coffee together, it’s simple, relaxing. 

but at times like now, you feel like you have to forcibly remind yourself that ruby is your best friend in the entire world. 

your best friend has brought you to a party tonight, even though it’s a wednesday and you both have an 8am class tomorrow. somehow, situations like this are common in your friendship. you tell her no, give a rational, logical reason as to why you say no. and then ruby persuades you with her hunger for spontaneity everytime to do the opposite. 

from the outside, you and ruby look like complete opposites. even right now, at this party, others that don’t know or ruby would guess that you don’t even know each other, let alone be best friends. 

you’re sitting on a couch, lazily holding a red cup with some punch in it that tastes like shit, most likely because it was created by a group of frat boys. you’re sitting with a few people that you know from your classes, adding occasional statements to their conversation. 

meanwhile, ruby is absolutely wasted already, dancing all over heeseung at the pool table. she’s got her arms thrown around his neck, dancing and twirling off his body. you can hear her squeals of laughter from across the room, even over the loud music playing. 

it’s hard to not notice ruby. besides the fact that she’s constantly getting herself into situations where she’s the centre of attention (last weekend she fell off a table at a party from dancing too hard). ruby is beautiful— far away from “stereotypical” beauty. she literally excels with an aura of beauty. everywhere she goes, she has eyes on her. it’s something she’s come to expect and love. 

the thing about you and ruby is that in the areas of yourself that need to be more adventure seeking and social, ruby provides you. in the places where ruby needs more rationality and grounding is what you give her. both of you have traits that the other needs, which perfectly aligns and blends you together. which is what makes ruby your best friend. 

“what the fuck are you doing?” a man’s voice questions angrily. you turn to where the voice came from, right where ruby was dancing with heeseung. the person who you expected to be standing there, was. 

jay park is ruby’s boyfriend. they’ve been dating on and off again for the past two years. you’ve tried to remember the reason why the broke up for the first time, only one month into their relationship at that point, but it’s no use. they’ve broken up so many times over the past two years that you can’t connect what reason to the number of break up. 

jay and ruby are so similar yet so different at the same time. it’s exhausting. 

everyone at your college knows about jay and ruby’s complicated relationship. which is why no one at this party is surprised right now that jay and ruby are fighting, again. 

they both can be chaotic and impulsive, which so easily leads to their fights being dramatic and escalating quickly. they’re unpredictable together. one second they’re yelling until their faces are red, and the next they’re crawling back into bed with each other. their attraction to each other is strong enough that their commitment issues are almost constantly showing. 

“i’m dancing jay, is that a problem?” ruby answers him, her face twisted in annoyance as she holds one of her hands on heeseung’s shoulder as she stares down her boyfriend. 

“yeah, you’re grinding on heeseung, right in front of me.” 

ruby only chuckles, “i’m just having fun, jay. chill out.” 

“chill out?” you can see jay’s jaw tense from across the room, “how can i do that when my girlfriend looks desperate as fuck grinding on whoever is closest to her.” 

ruby’s faux smile drops from her pretty face, her eyes narrowing at jay in front of her. heeseung’s stuck in the middle of them. 

“why can’t i have fun without you getting all possessive? i’m not yours, jay.” 

jay scoffs, “yeah, clearly you fucking aren’t. don’t come near me again.” jay shakes his head at her before he turns, bee-lining it through the crowd of people. 

“fuck you, asshole!” ruby shouts after him, her chest heaving in anger as she watches her ex boyfriend storm out of the party. 

you can’t help but sigh as you know that it’s time for you to get ruby to go home with you. you’ll have to see her switch from crying to yelling in anger about jay until tomorrow morning, when they will most likely forgive each other again. ruby is your best friend in the entire world. 

“have fun,” maria, a girl from your calculus class, nudges you with a smile. knowing to a certain extent what you’re going to have to deal with for the next eight hours. 

“thanks,” you roll your eyes playfully. 

“i just, i don’t get why they can’t just break up for good. like they seem miserable together.” jake, a boy from the rugby team at your college, grumbles. 

you shrug, “if you find out, don’t forget to tell me.” 

your classmates tell you they’ll see you tomorrow as you head over to ruby, who’s sobbing into heeseung’s shirt now. by the look on his face you can tell he has no idea what to do, he feels awkward about this whole thing. 

“ruby?” you place your hands on her shoulders gently, “wanna get out of here?” 

ruby turns to you, her lips pouting and her makeup running down her face, “please, y/n.” 

she lets you start to guide her away from poor heeseung and outside. you smile awkwardly at heeseung, trying to reassure him that everything’s fine. he looks as confused as ever, but he manages to smile back at you before you get lost in the sea of people. 

ruby puts her head on your shoulder during the uber ride home. her crying has turned into small sniffles. “he’s such an asshole, y/n.” she tells you, a sentence that you’ve heard one million times before. 

“i know,” 

ruby lifts her head up to look at you, her lips still in a pout, “but he’ll come back, right? he always does.” 

you force a reassuring smile at her, knowing that no matter what you say, she’ll only listen to what she thinks. “right, he always does.” 

she manages to smile weakly at your words, returning her head to your shoulder. ruby is your best friend in the entire world.

"These classes are draining the life out of me," Soojin sighed dramatically as if she wasn't one of the top students at her program, she removed the scarf wrapped around her neck and placed it neatly around yours and gave it a gentle tug. "I always need to look after you, why did you forget your scarf again?" She made herself comfortable beside Jake, your eyes lingered on Sunghoon who steadily walked towards your friend circle and sat on the unoccupied place beside Soojin. You smiled sheepishly at her as you watched Sunghoon button up her coat all the way up to safeguard her from the harsh winter breeze.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," You started but Sunghoon gave you a tight look which screamed disappointment rather than anger. "Yet again?" He raised an eyebrow, shutting you up completely. You look down pouting, the air around felt heavier as his eyes weighed you down. "I was thinking of throwing a party this year for my birthday," Jay expectantly looked at everyone, successfully diverting the topic, as he slipped his hand off your shoulder.

"You? Party? I think I've seen everything in my life now," Jay threw a crumpled piece of paper in Jake's direction as soon as those words slipped past his mouth.

This has been your life from the past three semesters, Jake and Jay's constant bickering coupled with Heeseung's struggle of keeping up with his 'academically challenging' classes. When you, Sunghoon and Soojin first decided to take admission in Decelis, you thought it would be just you three against the world like it has always been but now as you sit here surrounded by three more people who decided to take comfort in your little trio you wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Yeah that sounds like a well needed break before the summer exams kick our ass," Sunghoon laughed, "right?" He glanced towards Soojin expecting her to answer back but her silence made everyone's focus shift towards her. Your eyebrows pulled together as you noticed her drifting off from reality again, "Soojin," You called out making her flinch, she met your eyes before she looked towards Sunghoon who was now facing towards her with raised eyebrows. She laughed awkwardly as she half heartedly agreed to whatever question Sunghoon asked which she did not even listen to.

"Are you okay? If you're not feeling well we can leave," Soojin looked around at others before declining Sunghoon's words. Sunghoon sighed deeply as he tucked her hair behind her ear, looking into her eyes as if to reconfirm and she nodded her head, taking his hand in her hand and holding it tightly. There it was, the sickening feeling inside your stomach, back again as you looked at their intertwined hands. You swallowed the lump which began to form in your throat, inhaling deeply as you tore your eyes away from them.

Which proved to be a wrong move because your eyes landed on a certain boy with his god-awful glasses, who somehow was already looking at you as if he could see right through you. He sipped his espresso while throwing you a look of 'this-is-the-nth-time-I've-caught-you-giving-that-downbad-look-towards-your-long-time-bestfriend.' Your shoulders slumped, he scoffed, breaking eye contact and made a dramatic show of standing, gaining everyone's attention, even Heeseung's.

"I think I'm done for today guys," He smiled, narrowing his eyes at his three roommates. Jake, Jay, Sunghoon and Heeseung decided it would be better to live together after constantly struggling to find better housing separately outside of the campus as they refused to stay inside the campus dorms and Jay was more than happy to welcome the "Roofless Rizzlers" in his apartment. Jay stood up joining Jake while Heeseung started packing his belongings. He gave you a quick side hug before walking towards Soojin, ruffling her hair as he asked Sunghoon, "You coming?"

"You guys go ahead, I'll walk Soojin towards her dorm building first," Heeseung nodded, already expecting Sunghoon's answer before the words left his mouth and made his way towards the other boys patiently waiting for him. Your eyes followed them till they disappeared completely out of your sight. You stood up, adjusting the scarf Soojin placed around your neck, taking a few steps ahead and kneeling in front of where she was sitting. "Do you need me to stay with you today?" You softly caressed her hand as concern clouded your eyes, mimicking Sunghoon's.

She sighed like she carried the weight of the world around her shoulders, and maybe she really did. Every heavy breath, every soft sigh that escaped her cherry lips indicated the turmoil she carried deep within her very being. You guessed that's the price you need to pay when you're too good at what you do. As far as you remember Soojin has been an ideal daughter, teacher's favorite, a helping hand for fellow students, and a shoulder you and Sunghoon have constantly cried on. She's perfect, much like her long hair which sways with wind as if it flows just to touch her.

At one point of your life you thought nothing could get better than it already was for her, she was always at the center of the little bubble she had created, till that bubble shattered. The pieces stung your heart equally as it did to your hand when you plucked large fragments of glass from her wrist. Sunghoon frantically called the ambulance. Soojin had tried taking her own life in her room when her parents were away from the town.

Maybe it was a mother's instinct, maybe it was God's will as her grandmother said, when Soojin's mother called you, worried as she asked you to stay with Soojin that unfortunate night. You agreed, already texting Sunghoon to come join at the impromptu sleepover, you both wanted to surprise her but it was you who got surprised instead when you found her unconscious but still breathing in her room.

That night the ride towards the hospital was as chilling as the weather today, that night as Sunghoon and you sat beside each other covered in blood outside of the operation room, you made a promise to be there for Soojin, to take care of her, to prioritize her well being over your own needs and wants. You cried as the nurse tended your wounded hand, Sunghoon just sat beside you holding you close wondering if you were crying because of the injury or the sheer shock of it all.

You were teenagers then, you're adults now. But the feelings you felt that day were as clear as the morning sky mid-summer. And that feeling was creeping back upon you once again as you paid more attention towards Soojin. Her parents, grandparents, you and Sunghoon did everything you could do to help Soojin cope. Therapy, family trips, friends outing, you name it. Everyone was desperate to help her find her light again. You never talked about the suicide note you found in her room to anyone, not even Sunghoon, at her own request. It's still neatly folded and well kept at the far corner of your closest. You never read it but daily prayed to the universe that it will disappear in thin air somehow.

"I'll meet you guys tomorrow," You three were standing in front of her dorm building now. You bid her goodbye and watched as she made her way towards her designated floor. From the corner of the building Lia, Soojin's roommate, made her way towards you, a flicker of recognition and a smile of acknowledgement graced her lips as she patted your shoulder, "Don't worry, I got you guys, I'll call if she'll need you." The dorm selection happened on merit basis and you were second on the waiting list. You had to stay outside of the campus, life would've been easier if you were living with Soojin.

Sunghoon is silent beside you as you make your way towards the apartment you stay in. The sidewalk is draped with snow, it gleams with a slippery sheen in the soft evening light. You take a cautious glance towards the man you've come to recognize as your childhood best friend as you continue walking. Although things have changed significantly from how they were before, you're glad that Sunghoon's habit of walking you home never did.

Ever since the incident with Soojin, he has taken it upon himself to always be available for her, or maybe he takes care of her so feverishly because feels he needs to. Doesn't matter if his classes end early or late, if he's free or busy, he's by Soojin's side way before anyone else. You think maybe that's the reason you, even though you still wake up in the middle of the night by the nightmares, still sleep a little bit more soundly than he ever could.

He catches your eyes before you could tear it off of him, "why are you so forgetful, you know I've to be more focused on Soojin," He's nagging again, it's like a clockwork at this point, most of his thoughts begins and ends with her, you aren't even sure where Sunghoon ends and where Soojin begins. Perhaps you forget things because you want to see if he would care just as much if it were you in her place, you think you got your answers now.

You just look at him, your mind drifting towards the promise you made with each other for Soojin's sake. It was you who suggested that promise so why did it sting this so bad now? The bitter taste lingering in your mouth, why won't it go away easily? Since when did taking care of your ill-friend turned into a silent competition for you to have Sunghoon's attention? You're ruining everything you've worked hard to build, Soojin needs you both more than anything. You're pulled back to reality by Sunghoon as he tugs at your scarf, you silently glare at him as he begins taking off his gloves and putting it inside his coat's pocket.

A soft gasp leaves your lips before you could stop, his hands warm in comparison to your stiff and numb ones. He held your hands with such tenderness as if they would break if he didn't handle them carefully. He cradled your small hands in with his larger one, softly blowing warm air into them. His eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed, completely immersed into the small act like there was nothing more significant than this moment. He pulled back, not before placing a gentle kiss on your connected hands, he exhaled, you shuddered.

"Try to look after yourself more," His voice was barely audible, like he was talking to himself more than you, "please? For me?" And who are you to deny when he looked at you as if it physically pained him to even think about you being in pain. He reached for his pocket again, slipping his gloves onto your bare hands. His eyes traced the path from your glove-covered hands to your eyes, "you'll do that for me yeah?" He waited till you nodded your head, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

He moved closer, tucking your hair behind the ear before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You inhaled a sharp breath, the sky exhaled out the snowflakes.

Jay called you early in the morning in order to prepare for his birthday celebration, you had a clear schedule which Jay wanted to take advantage of. Jake, Heeseung and Sunghoon weren't present in their apartment as they have classes, Soojin would tag along with them after her class ends. You're helping Jay with the decorations, a displeased look painted on your face, "what are we? 10?" You skeptically side-eye your dear friend who was happily helping you stick a giant banner of 'Happy Birthday to me: the man, the myth, the majesty,' written in bold.

His signature cheeky, roblox-styled grin graced his face, he blew you a kiss before hugging your waist. "You love me anyway," You did your best to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him today, ruffling his hair lightly as you finished sticking the banner. Both of you look around the decorations you did. It was funny how Jay was helping you with his own birthday party. "Is the cake ready? Did you call the bakery? Let's buy drinks on the way back." Jay nodded at your words, already searching for his car keys as you grabbed your phone for a long day ahead of you.

"I'll get ready in Sunghoon's room," you informed as you made your way towards the stairs, Jay walking in front of you. Exhaustion creeped upon you due to all the preparations, you wonder how Jay managed to not even break a sweat the whole day, probably too excited since it was his day today. You entered Sunghoon's room which he shared with Jake, all of your belongings neatly placed beside his desk. You took a few essentials and made your way towards the attached bathroom deciding that a quick shower won't hurt you as they still had an hour at least to return from their classes.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a bit cheerful after taking a shower, getting dressed quickly and deciding to do your hair and makeup after they arrive. You sat on his desk chair, eyes mindlessly roaming around the room. You've been here countless times, still you feel a bit flustered being here alone with your thoughts. You decided irritating Jay would be a better option until others arrive. "Are you done getting ready?" You called Jay out from outside his room, a muffled 'leave me alone, I need to prepare to look my best' was all you heard in return.

Pouting, you made your way back towards Sunghoon's room, leaning against the doorframe in boredom, thinking of ways to entertain yourself for time being when your eyes landed on a hoodie sprawled below Sunghoon's bed. "Seriously?" You shook your head as you grabbed it to put it in the laundry basket when your eyes landed on two boxes, a red one fully closed, another black one half opened lying beneath the bed. They say curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction entered the chat as you sat on the floor to see what was inside it.

And maybe your mother was right when she said curiosity will lead to your downfall one day, because as you open the black box you were surprised to see it was filled with polaroids of Sunghoon and Soojin, planned and candid ones, on different occasions dating back from middle school till university, some cute keychains, few charms, and a bracelet which you don't recognize from your memory.

Silence grew heavy on your shoulders as you looked throughout the pictures, almost all of them were clicked when all three of you hung out, hell, some of the pictures were captured by you but there was no sign of you in any of the polaroids, you exhaled a breath you didn't even realize you were holding before keeping the box where it was. You stood up, dragging your feet towards Jake's bed and sat down, mind going haywire with all the thoughts and feelings you were suddenly bombarded with.

You did it upon yourself truthfully, if only you knew how to not snoop your nose in every single matter. A voice at the back of your head nagged at you, calling you stupid, about how you were just third wheeling in their relationship, about how their life would've been better if you weren't a part of it. Another voice chimed in, this one a little bit softer as it reminded you that those two are your best friends, they love you, they aren't isolating you from their lives, that they deserve to share a special bond with each other as much as you do with each of them.

You reluctantly decided to do your hair and makeup in order to escape from your feelings. Others will be arriving soon and you didn't want your feelings to get the best of you and ruin your friend's birthday. And as you got ready for the party, eye glassy as you bite back your tears, you swore to not fall in love with Sunghoon and be an obstacle in his happiness. You refused to let your negativity win, Soojin deserves the happiness only Sunghoon could bring in her life.

The music was blaring through the speaker and the crowd was alive, every corner of the room echoed with life and laughter. The air was a bit suffocating but it vibrated with full joy. The cameras were flashing, the laughter of your friends drowned into the night's symphony. The celebration continued, each of your friends giving their 'unsolicited advice,' and words of encouragement to the birthday boy. You sat on the couch beside Jake, who was already half drunk, his head on your shoulder as he mumbled incoherent facts about fishes.

"Something is bothering you," Jake's voice was nothing more than a whisper as he looked up at you. "Nothing is bothering me," you reasoned with him. Jake has always been someone who was able to see right through your acts and while you were great at hiding things and pretending to be fine, Jake somehow always catches you right in the act.

"If that nothing goes by the name of Sunghoon then I'll agree," Your eyes widened at his remark and even though he was only whispering you wouldn't risk anyone hearing it. "Seriously Jake, it's not what you think," Jake shook his head dismissing your words completely. "He deserves to know how you feel, you know, something about all that friends don't keep secrets and shit."

"I don't think that's a good idea, plus Soojin and him seem to be more comfy with each other since past few years anyway," you smiled bitterly as those words left your mouth and thankfully Jake chose not to intervene further and you silently thanked him for that. Maybe the alcohol finally got him, you weren't ready to have this conversation today anyway. You weren't sure how long you'll be able to hold onto these feelings but you needed to get rid of them for Soojin and Sunghoon's sake.

You scanned the room, many people left, leaving only close friends behind. Jay greeted the last guest goodbye, barely able to stand as Sunghoon balanced his weight. Even when he was shit-faced drunk, the gentleman knew his etiquette well. Now only the boys, you and Soojin were left, Jake still by your side, and you still haven't decided if you want to crash out here or go home.

"Let's watch a movie," You don't really comprehend who said that but you sighed in relief when everyone else just groaned in return. Soojin sat beside you, her arms crossed trying her best to fight back sleep, you chuckled at her state before giving her temple a kiss which immediately brought a smile on her face, Sunghoon sat beside Soojin. Jay and Heeseung sat on each of the love-seat respectively.

"I'm so tired, I just want to sleep forever," You might have to agree with Jay on this one. Sunghoon put his hand at the back of the couch, his actions prompting Soojin to put her head on his shoulder with practiced ease, like the place was meant for her to rest, like she knew everytime Sunghoon opened his arms, it was for her to find home. Jake was almost half asleep on you, your head buzzing in the aftermath of all the noise and screams. You tilt your head to rest against the couch, very much aware of Soojin softly complaining to Sunghoon about feeling tired after all the classes, then party, and how she'll have to go back to the dorms.

Sunghoon listened to every word escaping from her lips, smiling softly at her state. Soojin always complained about things but would go to the moon and back if it meant she'll get a single smile from her friends. You sighed, maybe going back to your apartment was genuinely a better idea. The constant train of thoughts inside your head broke when a hand slid below your head from where it was resting against the couch.

You looked to the side to see Sunghoon still talking with Soojin and occasionally with Heeseung and Jay, but his hand cradled your head as he soothingly traced circles on your head, his fingers tangled in your hair. And your attention should be on Soojin truthfully, given how overstimulated she feels while being constantly surrounded by people but your mind was hyper-aware of the way Sunghoon gently massaged your head, how gentle his fingers were.

His hand moved towards your ear, gave it a gentle tug before mindlessly tracing patterns on it. He was still talking with Heeseung about some dumb movie they watched last week. His touch continued, alternating between your head, ear and then back of your neck and you couldn't help but lean more into his hand. Somewhere deep down in your gut you knew you were doomed but you were glad he didn't stop with his touch either.

You flickered the light switch of your apartment on, Soojin making her way towards your bathroom to get fresh. You offered Soojin to stay the night at your place since it was way too late for her to go back to the dorms. You texted Sunghoon that you reached your apartment, took an oversized shirt and sweatpants from the closet and put it on bed for Soojin to wear. After Soojin was done, you did your own nightly routine, changing into comfy clothes, ready to sleep.

"I'll bring water for you," You smiled at Soojin who was already halfway into the dreamland and made your way to the kitchen. You checked your phone to see Sunghoon's reply, a simple 'call me when you can' glaring back at you. You checked the time, 03:00 AM, shrugging you decided to call him anyway. He picked up after two rings.

"Is she asleep?" You rolled your eyes at his voice, "what happened to hello? How are you?" You could picture his exaggerating sigh just as you heard it, "hello beautiful, why aren't you sleeping yet? Is Soojin asleep?" You turned back to take a look inside your bedroom, "Yeah, she's asleep." You slowly shut the bedroom door close so as to not disturb her sleep.

"Why? What's up?" You bit your lips as you sat on your couch waiting for him to answer, "I noticed she's been out of it for sometime, I'm worried about her," You exhaled a deep breath, adjusting your position on the couch as you listened Sunghoon recalling about the instances where Soojin would randomly zone out, get easily irritated and overwhelmed, tale-tell sign of her having troubles with her thoughts again.

You hummed in agreement, heart racing, fist clenching as you told him about your observations during your usual hangouts. You prayed the phase she was in would go away quickly, the summer exams were fast approaching and you knew she would be too sensitive during those phases, pulling all-nighters, not eating properly, ignoring everyone. That's how she gets when stressful situations arrive in her life. You have been used to it by now and you both try your best to be there for her during such times to make things easier for her. Sometimes risking your own grades just for her sake.

"Well....staying by her side and keeping an eye on her is all we can do for now," That was a no-brainer and Sunghoon didn't need you to voice out your answer to know you agree with him. "You've been helping Jay since morning, why aren't you asleep yet? You need proper rest for your body to function the next day, trouble." "Yeah, yeah...I know, I'll go to sleep now," you softly yawned.

"Okay, good night, take care of her and of yourself so that I can sleep peacefully, okay?" You nodded before realizing he can't hear you, "I will hoon, try not to stay awake so late at night too, this isn't your first time, you're making me worried sick too, you know." Sunghoon sighed before reluctantly agreeing with you. He knows he gets lost inside his head one too many times, he's aware you and Soojin try your best to pull at the threads of the maze his head creates. And he is trying his best, he swears to it, to be strong for both of you, especially for Soojin since her attempt. You bid your goodbye and make your way towards your bedroom to finally let sleep consume you.

The crisp morning light falls directly on your face, you groan, not yet ready to face the next day. You toss and turn before draping your hand and leg over Soojin's body, your head nuzzling at the crook of her neck. The touch of her lips on your head is featherlight as she sleepily holds your body closer to hers. "Morning sleepyhead," you whine in protest, hugging her body more closely, "don't wanna," Soojin laughs as her fingers thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as her soft humming fills your ears.

For a moment your thoughts drift back to last night when Sunghoon's fingers were tangled in your hair before you felt yourself drifting off again. You could get used to this mornings, waking beside Soojin, freshening up and then preparing and eating breakfast together, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Maybe sometimes Sunghoon would join too, you and Sunghoon would bicker and Soojin would try her best to resolve the issue. Sleepovers with them were your favorite amongst everything.

"Move in with me," you didn't even move an inch, feeling utterly comfortable while cuddling with your best friend. "Why? Does my baby feel alone?" Even though there was a hint of teasing in Soojin's voice, she knew how lonely it gets to live alone. When you didn't answer back she just sighed, adjusting her position a little bit to get more comfortable, "how about next semester? Would you like that?"

"For real?" If the excitement wasn't detectable from your voice, the wide grin plastered on your face gave it away. Soojin just laughed, removing strands of hair sticking on your forehead as she nodded, "I've thought about it, you can't cook properly, I can't watch you eat unhealthy food on daily basis, I'll cook home-cooked meals for you, in return you wash the dishes, just like we always planned." You looked at her, still unsure but excited nonetheless, "we can watch as many movies as we want, I'll wash your hair when you don't feel like it, you'll help me do my homework when I get stuck on it. You won't have to worry about my health issues, I will always keep you entertained. Sounds like a plan."

Soojin sighed as she listened to you rambling about all the things you would do, how you'll throw a welcome party with the boys. You chatted and she paid attention to every word that left your mouth, throwing hums of appreciation and a few words to add to your neverending list of things you would do when she would move in. You both got fresh, made and ate breakfast together, cleaned the dishes and were now sprawled on your couch watching a newly released drama series.

"It has been a while since you and I spent time like this, right?" You tossed the popcorn in your mouth, nodding in agreement. Surprisingly Sunghoon has neither texted you or Soojin until now, maybe he's still asleep. "Sunghoon always cock-blocks us, who does he think he is?" Soojin just laughed, directing her attention towards the drama, "Don't be so harsh on him, you know how he is." You made a face, "whatever, I don't need him when I have you." You both know that's a white lie.

"You say you don't need him, but look at him like he hung up the stars in the sky," You choked on the popcorn you were eating at that, Soojin alarmed over your state as she patted your back to help. You looked at her wide-eyed, reaching for the glass of water kept on the coffee table with trembling hands. "What do you mean? I mean he indeed put the star stickers on the ceiling of my room in my parents house if that counts?" Soojin rolled her eyes so hard you thought they got stuck at the back of her head.

"You know what I'm talking about but if you aren't comfortable we won't discuss further," she picked up the empty bowl of popcorn, cleaning the mess you both made, "come to me when you're ready enough okay?" You couldn't help but let confusion overtake your features. And as Soojin hugged you goodbye and you stood in your hallway watching her go, you wondered why Soojin was suddenly talking about Sunghoon to you in this way? Does she not feel the same way about him? Were you perceiving everything wrong? Because as far as you knew, more than you, it was Soojin who looked at him like he hung stars in the sky.

The summer sun irritated your skin, your school's uniform blazer neatly placed on your lap, "ugh, I hate summer with burning passion," You tried putting your hair in a ponytail, muttering curses under your breath as summer heat consumed you whole. Soojin chuckled lightly before getting up from her seat, turning you around as she helped you with your hair. "Cry baby, you're in high school now...grow up," You gave Sunghoon a sharp glare, complaining to Soojin about how he's always so indifferent when it comes to you. Soojin just laughed, placing a gentle kiss on your head as she sat down behind you, placing her head on your shoulder.

It had been a year since Soojin's incident, and you were glad to hear her smile and laugh again, so if that meant you had to constantly bicker with Sunghoon then so be it. You were just glad you didn't lose her that day. When your eyes found Sunghoon he was already looking at you with a soft smile, a mutual understanding in your eyes. Soojin was smiling more these days, and you were glad things were going back to how they were.

"Ah, I forgot," You stood up frantically gathering your things as the other two watched you with confused eyes, "I've to help my mom with dinner since her friends are coming," Your blazer fell down on the ground, "need to go, I'll meet you guys tomorrow, byee." Sunghoon and Soojin could only shake their heads at your forgetfulness and you made a run towards the school's gate. You were halfway through your way when you realized your blazer was, in fact, not in your hand, you don't even recall where you dropped it.

"Fuck, how stupid I could get?" You grabbed your phone from your pocket and dialed your mom's number, thankful that she picked it up quickly. You told her about your blazer, of how you're unsure to run home or back towards school to find it. Your mother laughed, reassuring you that your dad had come home early to help, urging you to get your blazer before it's too late. You sighed in relief before running back towards school, hoping and praying you dropped it somewhere nearby. It had slowly started to get dark when you reached the school's ground, you made your way slowly towards the place you, Soojin and Sunghoon, hung out.

Your eyes fell upon your blazer neatly folded and placed upon the bench you were sitting along with Soojin and Sunghoon who's belongings. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion since both of them were nowhere in your sight. You made your way towards the back of the school filled with large palm trees, your feet coming to a stop as you caught a sight of them.

Soojin's hand was held by Sunghoon as they stood in front of each other, close, maybe a little too close, they were talking, you aren't sure about what. Your ears were ringing loudly anyway, and you stood there watching it all. Soojin stepped closer, her hand clutching his necktie as she leaned in close. Sunghoon's hand raising up to cradle her cheek. The distance between their lips shortened, you turned your back and never looked back till you reached your parents house, blazer still lying on the bench you were sitting earlier that day.

You sighed deeply, laying on your bed, as you remember watching them together. Sunghoon handed you the blazer, washed and ironed, first thing in the morning when he picked you up from your house the next day. You remember smiling awkwardly and being quiet all the way to school, even Soojin looked concerned. Everything was normal that day, between Sunghoon and Soojin at least, because all you did for the next few days after that was wonder when they'll break the news of them being a couple to you.

As the time passed, you thought less about it, maybe both of them just weren't ready to open up to you. Eventually you stopped wondering all together, cause nothing drastically changed between you three after that day. Soojin was still recovering from her traumas, maybe they wanted to take things slow. But something shifted slightly, Sunghoon started paying more attention towards Soojin, you thought it was inevitable if they had feelings for each other, you made peace with that fact. Back then you only feared they would forget you, that they'll forget they had another piece in their puzzle but as you grew older you realize you not only feared losing them as your friend but also about your growing feelings for Sunghoon.

You knew you had feelings for him way before you even realized, especially when he smiled at you, crooked teeth and all, when you fell down your bike on the first day of your middle school. You remember him apologizing, his small hand grabbing your smaller one as he helped you stand up, and how Soojin ran towards you both and scolded Sunghoon intensely for hurting her 'bestest best friend in the whole world.'

He just stood there as he listened to her scolding, his face as serious as it could get, like he wanted to prove Soojin that he was indeed deeply saddened by the fact that you got hurt. It took a while for Soojin's 11 year old self to calm herself down and you hugged her, face full of guilt as you explained that it should be you apologising since you weren't paying attention while riding the bike and almost hitting Sunghoon who wasn't even aware you were bolting towards him. The look on Soojin's face was priceless and Sunghoon offered to be both of your '2nd bestest best friend in the world' as an apology, you quickly agreed and the rest is history.

"I applied for this program because it was academically challenging but I did not think it would actually challenge me," Heeseung was struggling with his study material, his head propped lazily on your lap as he abandoned his laptop on the coffee table. "Oh poor bambi," You mumbled massaging his head to release some of his stress. Jake was drinking his deathpresso again as he sat surrounded by countless textbooks and binders. Jay and Sunghoon were studying together in Jay's room to not get distracted. Soojin was back in her dorm room, probably didn't even sleep for a minute.

You texted and called her in regular intervals to remind her to eat and rest, exam season was always too hectic. After sometime Heeseung got up to continue his study and you placed your textbook back in your lap to continue from where you left. One more paper and then you all were free for the rest of the summer.

"Are you planning on going home after exams?" Heeseung asked as all six of you were eating dinner at the local diner near the college campus. When Soojin didn't pick up her phone for the 2nd time, Sunghoon decided it was time to drag her out to force her to eat something. You were thankful that Heeseung, Jay and Jake had a mutual understanding about everything that had happened but never dared to touch the topic in front of Soojin. "Not me, I will try to find some summer jobs to save up money," Jake nodded at your words agreeing with you.

"I'm staying here too, I need to find and apply for internships as soon as possible," Sunghoon said, your eyes drifting to Soojin who agreed to stay with you the whole summer since she didn't want to go back home alone. Jay's family was going on a long vacation so he'll be gone for half of the summer holidays. Heeseung and Jake decided to be back from the holidays as soon as Jay came so that all of you could spend the rest of the summer together. "All the best for tomorrow guys," and you were off to your respective places.

Your steps felt light as you exited your exam hall, you decided worrying about how you wrote your exams now was useless anyway. You met the boys at the usual sitting area near the far right building. You checked the time, Soojin and Heeseung were always the last ones to exit the exam hall. You smiled, getting up from your seat as you spotted her walking towards you. "Soojin! Come fast!" Sunghoon shook his head as he grabbed your wrist, smiling lightly, making you sit back once again.

Soojin's steps flattered as she neared the spot, what once began as a smile on your face ended in tremble as you watched her balance tip, your feet were moving before your mind did, Sunghoon few steps ahead but still too far. You closed your eyes, unable to watch her hit the ground, you could hear distant voices of Jay, Jake and Sunghoon yelling at her to stay put and then everything went silent.

You opened your eyes, everything stilled, Soojin laid unconscious, in Heeseung's arms as he tapped her cheek to wake her up. Sunghoon reached forward, taking her from Heeseung's arm as he instructed Jay to get his car. You couldn't move, still glued in the same place as you watched everything unfold, eyes never leaving Soojin's face as Sunghoon placed her inside the car. Heeseung followed soon, making himself comfortable in the passenger's seat.

Somewhere in between, you felt Jake grab your arm and pull you towards his car. You let him drag you, your mind blank. He pushed you towards the passenger's seat and fastened your seat belt, and made his way towards the driver seat. The drive towards the hospital was silent, Jake throwing concerned glances at you as he kept on driving. You didn't even let him properly park before you were taking out your seatbelt and making a run towards the hospital.

You found Sunghoon and Jay near the end of the hallway. "Where's she?" "She's inside the room, the doctor is examining her, I heard the doctor say something about fatigue and low energy," You nodded at Jay before slumping against the chair, your hand trembling as you stared at the room she currently was in. You don't remember when Jake joined you three, you could hear Jay's voice in the distance explaining that Heeseung was taking care of the medical obligations, but their voices were muffled and all you could focus on was the door in front of you.

Sunghoon sat beside you, his fingers on your shirt's button where a few strands of hair had tangled in all the rush, you let him untangle them. It was his way of keeping himself grounded, paying more attention to trivial things in order to temporarily forget about the bigger ones. His hand grabbed your trembling ones, assuring you that it was probably due to stress. You forced yourself to listen to him, you forced yourself to believe in his words even when your instinct told you not to.

After some time, you were allowed to see Soojin. Sunghoon, Jay, Jake and Heeseung entered the room and you stayed back to ask the doctor about her condition. She explained to you how Soojin was severely dehydrated, she hadn't eaten in days so she had no energy left, and the all nighters she pulled didn't help her condition either.

When you entered the room, you simply asked Sunghoon to bring some juice and energy drink for Soojin. You sat beside her silently, holding her hand which wasn't connected to the IV tube, the same hand which bore the scar of the pain she endured years ago. Jay, Jake and Heeseung stayed with you, Jay put your head on his shoulder in a silent way to say he's there, right beside you. And as you sat there in the hospital room with all the boys by Soojin's side, a small tear escaped your eye realizing this is the closest you could get to a second home.

You made Jay, Jake and Heeseung go back to the apartment even though they were very reluctant. Sunghoon had gone with them to prepare some food for Soojin to eat in the hospital. You washed your face in the hospital's bathroom, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Something was bothering you at the back of your mind, but you decided to pay attention to it later. You made your way back into Soojin's room, she looked better now than before, she was talking with a nurse with a newfound enthusiasm which you couldn't find earlier when another nurse was checking up on her.

The nurse gave you a smile of acknowledgement as she scribbled on her notepad and left, you gave Soojin a wary look as you sat beside her. "This nurse is way nicer than the other one, kinder too, I like her," A smile graced your lips at her words, taking note of the fact that being nicer indeed makes people's life easier. "I told you to take care of yourself, I asked you many times if you've eaten, you lied to me?" Her face went pale, she avoided holding eye contact with you.

"I tried to eat, I couldn't swallow anything due to the anxiousness creeping up on me, what if I fail this exam?" You could see her eyes getting glassy as she rambled on about how the exams are stressing her, how she is feeling like a loser, "You've never once failed Soojin, and these percentage means nothing, all of us will love you the same even if you score less marks, I can guarantee you that I'll love you regardless of anything. I won't leave your side." You wiped the tears before they slid across her face, you were scared, scared for her, for her parents, for Sunghoon, for yourself. How are you supposed to make her realize she's more than her achievements and reputation? You were desperate to pull her out of this, desperate enough to pray.

"Really? You'll love me even if I fail all of my subjects? Even when I won't win that debate competition? Even when I look ugly? Will you?" She held your hands in her pale ones, like they were the only thing keeping her sane. "Yes, I'll love you through it all, not only me but Sunghoon too okay? Remember you're moving in with me next semester, I'll help you make flashcards and study materials and stay awake with you revising each and every topic. That's my promise to you, I'm still thinking about all of that, I'll be by your side."

"What if I ruin you? What if you get irritated by me? You have trouble sleeping, if you stay awake for me won't it affect your health too? What about your studies? Aren't your parents expecting you to graduate first class? Won't you feel suffocated? What if you'll start hating me-" You shut her mouth with your hand, you held her tighter in your arms as you repeatedly told her that it would never happen.

"Soojin, if I had two hearts, I would give you the second one too, just to break. So it doesn't matter to me, I will gladly embrace the inconveniences that come along with you. Those aren't inconveniences for me, nothing about you is an inconvenience for me, I chose your struggles when I chose you. Sunghoon and I are staying for good." You let her soak your shirt as she cried in your arms and you didn't let go even after she stopped.

"I think it will be better for me to go back home for the holidays, staying here will only stress me out more if I'll see someone working harder than me," You nodded at her words, maybe staying with family will keep her head off of the university's stress. You'll inform her parents about her condition too. "If that's what you want...I won't oppose it." Soojin gave you a warm smile, placing a kiss on your cheek, "can you promise me one thing?" 

"Promise? What?" She sat up straight facing you, she looked adorably cute in that hospital gown, you pinched her cheeks and she swat your hands away before once again holding them, "promise me you'll take care of yourself and Sunghoon when I am not here, both of you tend to get overbearing when it comes to me, and Sunghoon worries so much about me that it worries me," you let her words sink in your chest before you nodded, "I'll take care of him and me, pinky promise."

Your summer holidays are as boring as they could get, with only Sunghoon and you in the city while others are enjoying their families. You almost wished you went along with Soojin to your hometown instead. Sunghoon packed his bag and decided to live with you for the time being because you wouldn't shut up about being bored all the time. You tried looking for a job but the summer heat was unbearable, so work from home it is. Sunghoon, as he said, was indeed very busy with his internship applications and research. But at least you weren't alone.

You regularly FaceTimed and texted Soojin, even Sunghoon always joined in each and every call despite his schedule. But it seems your presence beside her would have been better than the calls you three shared. With time, the schedule got busier, you got another work from home opportunity which you could fit in your schedule. Sunghoon started his internship, and would only come back in the evening. The number of calls started declining the more you got exhausted due to work. And each day, the light inside Soojin's eyes started getting more and more dimmer. You occasionally talked with her mother to get updates from her, and she always said the same thing, Soojin wouldn't talk with them more than necessary.

"I had a talk with Soojin's mom yesterday," You were leaning back against the headboard and Sunghoon laid beside you, his eyes closed, finally being able to rest since it was a weekend. "I think I should go and pay her visit, she said Soojin is growing more and more quieter day by day." Sunghoon opened his eyes at that, shifting a bit as he laid his head on your lap instead, "Is it that bad? I will come with you." You played with his hair, thinking about his suggestion, maybe Soojin would appreciate Sunghoon's presence more than yours. "What about your internship?"

"I'll handle it, let's share this with Soojin. She'll be excited to know we're visiting her." Your eyes lit up at his suggestion as you FaceTimed Soojin. Sunghoon sat you straight leaning into your phone's frame. She picked up the phone at the last ring, "what's up?" You and Sunghoon waved as soon as you saw her face on the screen, she smiled half heartedly as she jumped on her bed to sleep.

"We're coming to meet you and maybe stay there for a couple of days." You smiled brightly at her as Sunghoon nodded his head. "Both of you? What about your jobs and your internships?" You laughed at her confused expression shaking your head, "Don't worry about that, nothing is more important than you," You nodded your head in agreement at Sunghoon's words. "Seriously guys! I'm really FINE, don't change your schedules for me, it's just a phase, I'll be alright!" She hung up the call before even listening.

You exchanged a look with Sunghoon at her sudden outburst, yeah, something was definitely wrong, yeah, you really needed to visit her to calm her down. She was getting pulled right back into the abyss you thought she left behind in high school. You immediately sent email to both your jobs for emergency leave and Sunghoon did the same with his internship. You both started packing your essentials so that the first thing both of you do in the morning is to board the train taking you back to your hometown.

The ride towards your hometown was filled with anxiousness and concern. You tried calling Soojin to tell her you'll be arriving early in the afternoon, then once again when you boarded the train, then again when you were halfway through your destination, but she didn't pick up even once. "I feel like throwing up since midnight, the feeling won't go away hoon," Sunghoon's face was hardened as he looked out the window, his persistent tapping of legs indicating the turmoil he himself was going through.

"It will go away, everything will be alright, it has to be," He anxiously checked the time and station every 5 minutes. He was getting agitated with every call getting ignored. Soojin had never ignored the call, even her parents won't pick up. The train ride was nerve wracking for both of you as you reached your destination.

Visiting Soojin straight after reaching your hometown was a decision both of you didn't need to verbalize. The house was locked when you arrived making you more confused than you already were. No one was picking up the phone, no one was in the house, what was even happening? You dialed her number again, the silence of your surroundings made it possible for you to hear the distant sound of a phone ringing from inside the house. She left the phone in the house. You heard a familiar voice call out your name, you and Sunghoon walked towards Soojin's neighbor, an old grandma who always gave you three sweets whenever she could. "Where are they?"

"You don't know?" You and Sunghoon exchanged a curious glance at her worried tone, "why?" You were practically holding onto the fence for dear life as you ushered grandma to continue, "Soojin attempted to take her life early in the morning today, all of them are at the hospital, she's in a very critical condition-"

Sunghoon dragged you out of the yard and towards the hospital before grandma couldn't even finish her sentence properly. You were out of breath, Sunghoon being relatively taller and faster, you let him drag your body along with him. He stopped right in front of the hospital gate, unable to bring himself to enter. "I'm scared," So were you, Sunghoon let you drag him inside the hospital, his mind numb as he forced himself to take one step after another. "She'll be alright, her parents were with her," you tried to reason out.

You spotted Soojin's younger brother and rushed towards him, he immediately broke down in your arms. Her mother and father were sitting outside of the operation room covered in blood as they prayed for her, it reminded you of the first time when you were here with Sunghoon. "She'll be alright, right?" Sunghoon kneeled in front of her mother, she broke down immediately after noticing you both. "What happened?" Your voice trembled as your eyes flickered between her parents and the operation room.

"We heard a some noise, a soft thud, I thought someone had barged into our house so I woke Soojin's dad to inspect and we found her lying on the ground unconscious, with blood dripping from her hand-" her mother couldn't stop another wave of tears from flowing so her dad continued, "they have been inside the OR for hours, she was breathing still, we informed police about this, her brother found a note."

"Tell her we don't expect much from her as long as she's happy, tell her we love her regardless, I can't take it anymore, let her live pain free, please," You hugged her mom as tears formed in your eyes. Sunghoon was already crying, his head resting against your lap. The light of the Operation room dimmed, her dad and mom were first to make a move towards the doors, you and Sunghoon stayed where you were, eyes trained towards the room.

The doctor walked out, his face gravely. At that moment, the world stood still. The doctor’s lips moved, but all you could hear was a roaring silence. Your heart knew before my mind caught up, Soojin was gone. The hallway was too quiet, too sterile for grief. When the doctor looked at you, you saw it in his eyes, loss wrapped in professionalism. His voice was calm, but it shattered your world. They always say you'll remember the exact moment you hear it. For you, it was the way the doctor hesitated before speaking, "I'm sorry, we tried everything we could."

The scent of incense irritated your nose and burned your eyes. With trembling hands you offered flowers in front of Soojin's portrait. Your parents and siblings stood beside you, bowing towards the altar as they silently mourned. Soojin was smiling brightly in her portrait, a picture captured by you in her happiest moment, framed in black ribbon above the altar. The room was filled with hushed conversations, some sympathetic, others judgmental. You decided you would stay quiet for Soojin's peaceful departure.

Jake and Jay were helping with the food, Heeseung stayed beside Soojin's parents in case they needed anything. Your eyes searched for Sunghoon who was seated at the far corner of the room, his parents right by his side as they consoled him. He just sat, not even moving an inch.

When the time arrived, Soojin's mother couldn't let go of her. Sunghoon gently but firmly held her back as she cried in his arms, defeated. Someone wailed loudly, who? You aren't sure, your eyes never left Soojin's face even when they closed the coffin, like a finality that this was it. Sunghoon, Jay, Jake and Heeseung, along with Soojin's brother and dad helped in picking up the coffin.

You helped her mother carry her portrait in the front. Outside air was chill, it sent a shiver down your spine. A white car was waiting outside the funeral hall, a coffin was placed, the car took off as everyone bowed for the last time.

You softly called out for Soojin's brother, "take your parents back home, they must be tired. Make sure they rest, you've to be strong for them. I'll handle the rest." He nodded his head, wiping his tears before urging his parents to get in Jay's car to drive back home.

You haven't cried the entire time, you weren't sure if you'll be able to. You stood in the middle of the empty funeral hall, eyes not leaving the spot Soojin was moments prior, you didn't move, you didn't dare to disturb the silence with your presence. You just stared at nothing in particular, your mind haywire with everything and nothing simultaneously. You wanted to cry, to yell, to feel something other than the hollowness you felt deep in your heart, but tears won't come out. You hand made its way inside your dress pocket, your fingers curled around a neatly folded envelope. "Soojin left it for you and Sunghoon, I found it beside the note addressed to us."

You aren't sure how much time has passed, you're still at the same place, unable to let go, unable to come to terms with the fact that a piece of your past has decided to stay frozen forever. You aren't sure how you'll escape this loneliness, when all of your memories till now had Soojin in it. You felt Sunghoon's presence before you saw him, he stood beside you for a moment, didn't utter a single word. You wondered how he's coping with the news, you haven't even spoken to him since yesterday, yet you've been with each other all along.

He sighed deeply, his hand circling around your wrist. He wordlessly dragged you out of the hall, you let him. You weren't sure where he was taking you, but you didn't protest. Evening breeze irritated your skin, it was still the middle of the summer, the air was too humid, suffocating you slowly. The breeze brought anything but peace to you. Sunghoon sat you down on one of the benches of the hall's garden. He never let go off your hand, fingers now intertwined with yours. The sky looked pretty today, you almost clicked a picture to send it to Soojin.

"I tried my best to make her understand, when she slept in my apartment on Jay's birthday, when she was hospitalized, I....I tried everything I could to help her understand but...." your voice gave out, you didn't know how to even explain this to him. Sunghoon gulped, "I did all I could do too, when she would complain about things while walking to our hangouts, when she got less marks than she anticipated, when I was walking with her while coming to Jay's party, when I called her at the middle of the night when she was pulling those all-nighters."

"Do you think she's at peace now?" You finally dared yourself to look at him, sullen eyes, chapped lips, ruined shirt collar. You heard him sigh, "maybe she is, she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders." You didn't disagree, instead you felt Sunghoon guide your head on his shoulder. "You know," You laughed bitterly, "I moved all of my things to accommodate hers, I was so excited that I was finally going to have a roommate." Sunghoon just listened as you sat there talking about how you had planned everything, you talked and talked till you couldn't anymore, till the security guard gently smiled at you both, telling you it's time to close.

The summer holidays came to an end, you and Sunghoon, occasionally Jay, Jake and Heeseung, spent it with Soojin's family. Helping them move Soojin's things from her dorm room, with house chores, with her brother's assignments, and everything which you could. Lia decided to move out of the dorm, the emptiness of their dorm room was eating her up she said, you don't blame her. She had spent everyday living with Soojin. You suggested that she visit you sometimes if she missed Soojin too much.

You were currently working on your assignment, it was past midnight yet you were wide awake. You were afraid to fall asleep, memories of Soojin's death lingering at the back of your mind like a tape record with a broken off button. Her absence was still fresh, you still sometimes dial her number or almost text her about random things. The group chat three of you had was silent now, yet sometimes you or Sunghoon would message a thing or two, mainly when your brains were too foggy to realize that Soojin isn't going to reply.

You texted Sunghoon asking about his whereabouts and now you can't help but keep on glancing at every notification on your phone hoping it's from him. He rarely ignored you, especially after what happened with Soojin, he had made it his personal mission to be there for you. You wondered where he was, he never left you hanging like this so you were getting anxious. Even though your conscience begged you to not disturb others who are sleeping, you still found yourself texting Jay to ask about Sunghoon.

Surprisingly, Jay replied immediately informing you that Sunghoon left the apartment hours ago and is yet to come back. You asked him if he had any idea where he was but he told you he thought Sunghoon was with you like always. You replied that you haven't seen or heard from him after he dropped you off from university to your apartment. You quickly exited the chat, dread creeping up on you, you silently prayed he will pick up this time.

After a few rings, you heard a faint sound coming from the other side of the phone, "Sunghoon?" You heard him take a sharp intake of breath followed by a very clear and loud hiccup. Soft music could be heard but it was muffled with the sounds of traffic, people and wind. "Where are you?" Another hiccup, "It's 5:00 AM, why are you awake?" You rubbed your tired eyes in exhaustion. "I asked you a question first! Are you drunk?"

"Very much," You got up, took the keys in your hand, locked your door, started your car and entered his location details on the map. "I'm coming to get you, stay where you are." You didn't think you would end up in this situation today, your eyelids were getting heavier due to lack of sleep. You saw him slumped against a lamppost near the bar, you helped him get inside your car, texting Jay that you found him and are now taking him to your apartment.

You haven't seen him quite this drunk, ever. You recalled having a conversation with Jake, about how Sunghoon wasn't much involved in their chats or hangouts, they figured he needed some time to himself, to deal with the grief like he wanted, if this is how he was planning on grieving then you weren't going to let it happen. You've already lost Soojin, you weren't going to let Sunghoon be next. You helped him with his shoes and jacket, pushing him towards your bedroom.

You laid him on your bed, helping him with his accessories, putting them on your nightstand. You pulled a blanket on him, and he quietly let you. You were skeptical with him being so compliant, normally he was very hard to handle when drunk. He had his eyes closed, letting you pamper him all you want, you removed a few hair from his forehead before pulling back to continue with your work.

"Don't leave," When you turned around, he was already sitting up looking at you with pleading eyes, you sighed as you made your way back, standing beside him. His hands circled around your waist, his head on your stomach, he nuzzled his head closer inhaling your scent, "don't leave please," his voice was muffled but you heard it anyway. You ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down. The desperation in his voice pulling your heart apart.

"I can't lose you too, you mean the world to me, I can't lose you like I lost Soojin, please," Your shirt soaked with his tears as he cried, shoulders shaking uncontrollably as he held you like his life depended on it. "I'm not leaving, I'm here," your presence grounded him as he cried till no tears left in his eyes to shed. Whispers of 'I feel so empty', 'I feel alone', 'I unintentionally called her but her brother picked the phone', 'where did I go wrong' left his mouth and you listened. After a while when silence surrounded you both you pushed him back against the bed, and climbed to the other side of the bed. He immediately shifted near you, taking your hand in between both of his and closed his eyes. You sighed, patting his back to help him sleep.

The constant shifting on your bed was what pulled you out of sleep the next morning, your mind still foggy as you turned to look beside you. The morning light seeped through the space between the curtains, you lifted your head to look at Sunghoon who was constantly tossing and turning. You chuckled lightly, pulling him by his shirt, he obliged albeit half confused, his hand circled around your waist, lazily pulling your body closer to his, tucking his head on your neck.

"Morning," you softly comb your finger through his hair, "My head is thumping like a drum," he whined, holding you tightly, his groggy morning voice sent shivers down your spine. You softly massaged his hair to help with his hangover. He hummed in delight, feeling a bit better. You stayed like that for a while, your eyes getting heavy once again.

"Shall I move in with you?" You were wide awake now, "Are you sleep talking?" Sunghoon leaned back a little to give you a tight look, then resumed his previous position. "No, you're bad at taking care of yourself, you don't sleep or eat properly, you're a walking hazard to put it simply...I'm afraid you need constant supervision."

"....that didn't help me feel better"

"It wasn't meant to make you feel better, just pure fact," you hit the back of his head to remind him of his hangover, he winced pinching your side in return. You slapped his hands too, "what are you good at anyway?" His fingers traced circles around your stomach and you gulped, clearing your throat, "washing dishes?" Sunghoon laughed loudly as he propped himself on his elbow to look at your face. "Washing dishes? Hmm....let's see...I can cook well, you can wash dishes, how does that sound?"

That sounds great, you wanted to tell him but words got stuck in your throat. It sounded exactly how you imagined living with your roommate would be like. How similar it was to what you discussed with Soojin. Sunghoon's smile flattered as he looked into your eyes, his free hand gently cradling your face to shift your attention back on him. "It sounds perfect," you muttered. He narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push further.

"You sound like you dread having a roommate," he pouted as he got off the bed, holding his head since it started spinning due to sudden movement. "I dread having you as my roommate, what if you poison me?" He scoffed, throwing a towel on your face, "trust me, I would have already if it was legally allowed. I don't want this handsome face to be behind the bars where no one would be able to appreciate it." You made sure he heard you gag at that thought.

You were eating breakfast or brunch if you looked at the time, talking about you having a chat with Soojin's parents and asking yours to visit them from time to time. Sunghoon smiled softly, playing with a fork rather than eating. He was happy to see you talk about Soojin without dread looming above you. Things haven't been easier, and he fears it won't ever. Thinking both of your lives would go on without Soojin already leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he knows Soojin wouldn't want him or you to be hung up on her.

Sunghoon isn't blind, perhaps a little too good at observation, he knew you still had nightmares from the time Soojin attempted to take her life, after all you were the first one to see her in that condition. He knew it would be more difficult for you to stay alone with Soojin gone. Soojin had once told him how you sleep better if you have someone with you. He thinks he finally understands what Soojin meant when he saw you sleeping soundly beside him. He didn't want to take a risk by leaving you alone, especially now that Soojin wasn't there for you to run up to.

You nudged his leg with yours when you saw him zoning out, "don't play with your food, how many times do I have to tell you?" He smirked at your words, "many times now that you agreed on being my roommate." You rolled your eyes, going back to eat your food.

Sunghoon sighed, finishing his food and helping you with the dishes, "you're pretty good at cooking, I always thought Jay or Soojin helped you but I guess I was wrong."

"Help me? You mean to say of all these years you were eating my food, you didn't think I was the one making it?" You nodding enthusiastically was not even the last reaction expected. "I need my daily dose of appreciation now as a compensation for all the years of ignorance."

"Ugh, I hate you with burning passion,"

"No, you don't."

"Yeah, I don't." Sunghoon dried his hands before ruffling your hair. "You're going back?" Sunghoon nodded, promising to shift his things into your apartment the following weekend.

As soon as Sunghoon entered his apartment he was greeted by a very stern looking Jay sitting beside a very oblivious and confused Jake. "You should at least inform someone before disappearing like that! Do you know how worried everyone was?" Sunghoon sighed, mumbling an apology to never repeat it again as he made his way towards his room to relax and continue his work.

He changed into more comfortable clothes, quickly texting you that he reached home. He stretched a bit before making his way towards his study desk to finish his assignment. As soon as he opened his laptop, his headache rolled back due to the screen light, he closed the laptop with lightning speed. He massaged his head, groaning lightly before pulling his hair in frustration. He stood up, trying to recall where he put his medicine box the last time he cleaned.

He found the box placed carelessly on the far end of Jake's computer. He took the box, walking back towards his bed to take the glass of water from the night stand. He swallowed the medicine and hoped it would work fast. The cover of the tablet fell down in the process. He sighed before crouching down to throw the trash in the dustbin when his eyes landed on the boxes kept below his bed. His eyes trained on the half opened one, he reached forward and opened it fully. He smiled at the polaroids and keychains as he rummaged through it. He stopped when he caught the sight of a bracelet, he picked it up bringing it up to his eyes before putting it back inside, closing the box.

Sunghoon sighed, fragments of his past life connecting together to make a bigger, clear, picture. That day started normal, Sunghoon picking you up from your house, you running away from him as soon as you spotted Soojin, him waving at her before continuing the classes. It was the last class of the day when Soojin approached him, "Sunghoon, do you have a spare book in your locker? I forgot mine." Very unlikely that Soojin would be the one to forget something but he got up to get her the book anyway.

The locker room was situated outside of the classes, in a common area. The hallway was empty as Sunghoon opened his locker. His eyes landed on a black box neatly placed inside his locker, confusion gracing his features as he looked around to see anyone who may have left it. Sunghoon's locker being filled with gifts and letters on certain occasions was nothing new, he had grown used to it, but he couldn't recall that day being anything special. A letter was neatly folded above the box, he carefully opened the letter and it didn't even take a minute for him to recognize the handwriting of Soojin.

'Before you open the box, I need to talk to you alone, meet me at our usual hangout after school?'

Sunghoon eyed the box, staring at it as if it would start spilling out secrets hidden inside of it. The class bell rang, he quietly grabbed a spare book and made his way back towards the last class of the day. He entered the class, immediately making eye contact with Soojin, she smiled at him while taking the book from his hand. She turned her head to look in your direction where you were happily laughing with your seatmate then back towards Sunghoon. "I want you to keep this between us," she looked at him expectantly, Sunghoon nodded before making his way towards his seat.

His mind was racing with countless scenarios, his foot tapping against the floor repeatedly. He was silent during the lecture but couldn't focus at all. His mind racing with thoughts. His eyes trailed towards you trying to keep up with the teacher's words and notes you were writing. Then they swayed towards Soojin who sat straight in her seat. If it wasn't Sunghoon, anyone else would think she was laser focused on the class.

While you were talking with your seatmate, Sunghoon made his way towards Soojin. "How are you planning on discussing things with me when you know I walk with her home?" Soojin smiled, turning towards you to realize you were already looking at her. She waved her hand towards you urging you to hurry up then turned back towards Sunghoon. "She needs to help her mom with something, she'll go first. I don't want her to feel isolated, I would have chosen another day if that wasn't the case." Sunghoon nodded his head, and then you joined them.

Sunghoon shook his head as he watched you hurriedly run to go home, "she dropped her blazer." Soojin dusted the dirt from your blazer, Sunghoon took it, folding it neatly. "What are you doing?" He just smiled at her confused gaze, "taking it with me to return it." Soojin gulped, taking the blazer from his hand and placing it beside their belongings. "Let's take a walk?"

Sunghoon didn't urge her to talk, he let her set the pace. He knew she was much more anxious than he'll ever be so she let her lead the discussion. They talked for a bit, about everything and nothing, for a moment it felt good, normal even, like it was just another day and this was just another conversation amongst the countless ones. Mid-laugh, Soojin stepped forward blocking his path, Sunghoon gulped, raising his eyebrows to let her know she had his attention.

She took a deep breath, "did you....open the box?" Sunghoon shook his head no, she smiled, thanking him for listening to her. "You alright? Is anyone bothering you?" He needed to know, the nervousness of her face making his thoughts spiral more. She laughed assuring him everything is normal before she stepped closer, taking one of his hands in hers. "Your presence has always given me a sense of security, especially after what I did, you both must have been too worried about me and I'm thankful that both of you are still by my side."

"That's what friends are for! I'm always here for you." Sunghoon smiled back, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "Right...friends," Soojin huffed a small breath before locking eyes with him again, "I'll be direct with you since I know I can share anything with you without the fear of any judgement okay?" Sunghoon nodded, the grip of his hand tightening a bit around hers as she continued, "I like you," she stopped a bit to watch his expressions but decided to continue before he could say anything, "I think I've liked you for a while now, but ever since that night when I made an attempt at taking my-...and you've been by my side taking care of me, I couldn't help myself, I couldn't let these feelings sit in my heart, that's why I'm saying it to you. I really like you Sunghoon, you make me want to live a little more."

'I really like you Sunghoon, you make me want to live a little more.' Those words echoed in his ears as he looked at her. He never left her hand, he didn't even know how to react. He gulped as he watched her step closer, her other hand grabbing his necktie to pull him closer. He closed his eyes on instinct more than approval, how would she react if he pulled back? Will she fall into depression? Will she feel humiliated? Embarrassed?

Soojin is a kind girl, dating her wouldn't be that bad, especially if his presence means so much to her, he cares about her more than anything. He surely would fall in love too. He just felt terrified for intentionally or unintentionally hurting her. His hand trembled when he cupped her cheek, Soojin inhaled sharply.

His first kiss, he should be grateful it will be with someone he trusts, someone he cared for. Their noses touched, he felt her breath on his lips. He tilted her head to the side, he was sure his heart would jump out of his ribs. His thumb traced her jawline slowly before it stopped right at her lips, a shift in the position and his lips touched her forehead instead. He pulled back, chest heaving heavily like he had run a marathon, "I-....Soojin?" He looked at her, confused.

Soojin laughed, pushing him away from her lightly with the same hand she clutched his necktie a few minutes ago, "I just wanted to try my luck I guess." Sunghoon opened his mouth to say something, anything really, Soojin's eyes were filled with tears as she awkwardly stepped back, looking around the place to ease the tension. "Why would you try to kiss me when you don't even like me romantically?" Her question caught him off guard, isn't that what she wanted?

"I....just. I don't want to hurt you Soojin, I just want you to feel loved and cared for." Soojin shook her head, grabbed his blazer with both of her hands and shook him slightly, "so you were ready to be with me just to make me happy? What about you?" He avoided her eyes, he placed his hands on her, lightly but firmly. "I thought it will be fine, I care for you,"

"No, you just pity me," Her voice cracked, "you just pity me because I tried to take my own life, I know I've things to deal with, but don't pity me, I can handle rejection but I don't want people around me to walk on eggshells." Sunghoon pulled her into his arms, "I like you, maybe not in a way you want; does that mean I'll leave your side? No. I'm staying with you, right by your side. I'll still be just one call, one message away. Nothing has to change."

"You promise?" He wiped the tears flowing from her eyes, smiling softly at her, "you'll always be my priority Soojin. I may not be your boyfriend but I'll be the best friend you ever need."

Weekend rolled over faster than you imagined, Sunghoon's belongings were roughly scattered all around your living room. Jake and Jay were currently sprawled upon the couch, eyes closed. Heeseung and Sunghoon were still unpacking things and placing them in the places you pointed out. By evening, most of the things were unpacked and Sunghoon finally let his former roommates free. They bid their goodbyes with Jake dramatically clinging onto Sunghoon, crying about missing his roommate. You let the fact that they lived 5 minutes drive away from you go for now.

You helped Sunghoon with the rest of the things, he vacuumed the floor and you mopped it after. Only a few words were exchanged between you, your playlist occupying most of the silence. "Shall we eat out? It's too late and I'm very hungry," Sunghoon agreed with you before going to shower. You waited till he was done to go shower. Your clothes feel sticky with all the moving and cleaning you did.

You grabbed the food, deciding it would be better to just eat in the car. "You're very quiet today. It's threatening." You glared at him, though you never stopped eating your sandwich. "Don't speak with your mouth full," You retorted after swallowing your food. He stuck his tongue at you, opening the cap of your drink before passing it to you. "It looks like it will rain soon." The sky was filled with dark clouds, harsh wind making you shiver. Sunghoon closed the windows before even a single drop of water could touch your skin.

The rain came down heavy, angry as it drummed against the car's roof. The windshield blocked your view immediately due to the sheer amount of raindrops. The trees swayed relentlessly, signs blurring, people running to shield themselves from the heavy downpour. From inside the car the rainstorm seemed loud, distant even. The air went dense, thick with the scent of earth, the soft hum of the engine grounding you to the moment. Then the thunderstorm struck and you involuntarily shuddered, it wasn't like you were scared of lightning but because you've been extra sensitive to everything lately.

Sunghoon removed his jacket and placed it on your shoulder engulfing you in his scent, "wanna go back?" You shook your head no, wearing his jacket properly. "It's dangerous to drive in this weather....let's just stay here till the rain calms down." Sunghoon wordlessly agreed, raising the temperature of AC up. Soft music filled your ears as you leaned back on the seat. It looked like you'll be stuck here for a while.

Sunghoon hummed along with the song while waiting for the rain to calm down. You peered at him from your spot, he looked at you from the rearview mirror, your eyes trailed from his thick eyebrows, to his lashes, then to the moles adorning his face, to the slope of his nose, and those plush lips. You gulped, forcing yourself to look away before he caught you. You sighed softly, the rain showed no signs of stopping, neither did your thoughts.

"How do you cope when you're left with your thoughts for too long?" You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, eyes still focused on the way rain dropped on the window and slid down, "I mean, it must've been hard for you after Soojin left." He took a moment to let your words sink in, trying to understand them fully before responding. "I let those thoughts consume me, I don't run away, ignoring will only delay the pain."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, "you can talk to me if things get too hard you know. I'll be there for you." He looked at you wondering why you were saying all those things now, "It must have been hard for you too right? I'm not the only one who lost her."

"Hmm...it's different for me and for you though....you two shared a much different bond than the one you two shared with me," the words left your lips before your brain could comprehend. Your eyes widened as your eyes met Sunghoon's confused ones. "What are you saying?" You scoffed, breaking eye contact, avoiding his scrutinizing eyes. "I saw you two that day....I walked back to school since I dropped my blazer." You didn't need to say anything further to clarify what day you were referring to. His eyes widened, mouth opening and closing, you continued, "I thought at least one of you would say something, anything to me but neither of you did."

You fiddled with your hands, unable to look at him, unable to keep your emotions in check. You had suppressed everything you felt in your heart for Soojin's sake, for years at that. Soojin's absence brought more turmoil inside you rather than ease it. You wanted, no, needed answers. Not for you, maybe a little for you but more for Sunghoon, you didn't want him to hurt alone. You could at least be there for him when you couldn't for Soojin. Maybe that's how you wanted to bring peace to your heart. If he wasn't going to open up to you, how were you going to help him with it?

"I-...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel neglected, I thought Soojin would prefer things that way so I just went along with her and never told you." You played with the hem of his jacket. "So you just were never going to tell me if I didn't ask?" He shook his head, his hand making its way to hold yours. "Why does that thing matter though?"

"Why? It doesn't?" You released your hand from his hold, you decided to ignore his pained expression, "You did not think it was that important? Is that why you were so casual the next day? Because it didn't matter?" Sunghoon scoffed, not understanding where the conversation was heading. "If you saw us, why didn't you question us the next day? You always did that before!"

That pissed you off, "You wanted me to just barge in and ask you both, 'oh hey! I saw you both kissing and left, mind telling me if you're officially together or not' is that how you expected me to behave?" Your hands were flying everywhere as you spoke and Sunghoon just got more and more confused with each word spilling from your lips. And he knows he's stupid, Jake had countless times reminded him of that fact, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were more focused on your lips in that moment than anything else.

"Wait, we aren't-"

"I don't even want to discuss this, you're just pissing me off more, let's stop talking about this." Now it was his turn to get pissed, "Let me explain at least," your sharp glare shut him off quickly, "okay, whatever." Now not only was the atmosphere gloomy but so was the mood inside the car. The rain stopped and you sighed in relief, at least you could go back to your apartment and create some distance between you two. If this was how your first night ended after becoming roommates, you could only imagine the rest of the days.

You got off the car as soon as he parked the car, Sunghoon following suit. You fumbled with your keys trying to get it in, he gently grabbed them from your hand and easily opened the door in one go, now that just pissed you off more. You removed the shoes, stomping inside your room. Sunghoon just laughed to himself, "what a brat." He made his way inside his room, the former guest room planning on having a talk with you tomorrow after you've calmed down.

You threw your body on your bed, groaning at the way your body aches after helping Sunghoon move his things. He was so sweet when he asked if he could move in with you, and now he's behaving like that. You questioned why you have feelings for him in- "Why am I questioning? I don't have feelings for him." you decided you need a little sleep and peace for your mind to function properly again.

You were cozy, the weather outside was cool, wind was still blowing, the smell of earth after rain filling the air, your soft bed with your softest blanket draped around your body. You were in dreamland. You knew the sleep would be different after all that labour you did today, but that's not how that works right? You were thirsty, your throat screamed for your mercy, you searched for the glass of water on your nightstand only to realize you didn't refill it. You smashed your head against the pillow and screamed into it, then you made your way towards the kitchen to drink some water.

You flicked the kitchen light on, lazily drinking water when a loud thunderstorm echoed and you were surrounded by darkness. The yell that escaped your throat was intended to be in your imagination but Sunghoon heard it clearly, which made him frantically get up from his bed mid-sleep, and fall down. He got up, hurriedly making his way towards where your voice came from. By this time, the small light from the hallway window was the only thing illuminating the apartment.

He made his way towards the kitchen, still a bit hazy from waking up abruptly. He called out your name, "I'm here," he followed your voice. You were sitting on the floor at the corner of the kitchen. Your hand grabbed his as soon as you saw his silhouette near you. He freaked out a little when you grabbed his hand, but he wasn't going to let you know that.

"Hey, I'm here for you okay? Don't be scared." He sat beside you, wrapping his hand around your shoulder. He could feel your body slightly trembling, he pulled you closer, wrapping his other hand around you too, caging you in his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his waist to ground yourself. You have always feared darkness with burning passion. Normally you would always have your phone with you or near you to get through it.

Sunghoon drew out a long breath, his heart picking up speed at close proximity. Sure he has slept beside you, even hugged you countless of times but this felt more intimate, more vulnerable, more exposed. "You're still trembling," He pulled away from you in order to check on you but you grabbed his shirt in your hands, not letting go. Another lightening struck and you flinched, his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you up and onto his lap like you weighed nothing.

A loud gasp escaped your lips, he moved you till you were straddling his lap. His hands guided yours around his neck before his own made their way around your waist. He closed the distance between you in one push. His head found home in your neck, his arms tightening around you. A whimper left your lips as you hugged him. He rubbed your back, mumbling sweet nothings in your hair to help ease your nerves. You pulled back slightly, now that your vision had adjusted, you could see his silhouette though it was still very dark. You still hand your arms wrapped around him loosely and his grip shifted on your sides now. His thumbs draw circles around the area.

"We never kissed," His voice was more clear than the sky in the night's silence, "Soojin confessed to me that day, I got scared that she would get depressed if I rejected, I was afraid to be the reason for her next attempt, so I just went along with it. I thought maybe she'd be better if I said yes, but when I tried to kiss her she pulled back."

He continued, "I never told you anything because I didn't want Soojin to feel humiliated, she never discussed it with me either. Although I did not reciprocate, I still felt the need to be there for her more because she told me she felt safer with me around."

"I always thought you both had feelings for each other but were just toying around."

"Why would we be toying around if the feelings were mutual?"

"How would I know that?"

"God really said, 'no thoughts just vibes' with you," You slapped his shoulder as you leaned back a bit more. "What about that gift box?" You questioned, "exactly how many things you know about, trouble?" You groaned loudly before slamming your head against his shoulder. "I saw it on Jay's birthday when I picked up your hoodie from the floor, you aren't good at hiding."

"So the blame is on me?"

"Yes, of course. Who else?"

Living with Sunghoon was more peaceful than you initially thought. It has been months since the incident but nothing really changed, except now you had a companion to stay with. You couldn't really point but after Sunghoon's clarification days of turmoil finally stilled inside your mind, you realized how heavy your thoughts had been before that.

"Ready for college?" You peeked from the kitchen to see Sunghoon already near the door wearing his shoes. You gave him an okay sign, a half eaten bread in your mouth, he chuckled at your state urging you to hurry up. You finished your routine, locking the door behind and made your way out of your apartment complex. "We're driving today?"

"Jake wanted to go out after finishing classes." You entered the car, already feeling excited to spend some time with them. It had been a while, in between classes, assignments and everything, you only met each other in the university briefly. You missed spending time with them. "I missed them."

"Yeah, I can see it on your face." Sunghoon chuckled, reaching out to help you with the seatbelt. Your breath hitched at the close proximity and he just smirked, having the time of his life teasing you. He pulled back, not before throwing a wink at you, and you pulled his ear in response. You adjusted yourself in your seat as Sunghoon began driving.

"Jake, my baby!" The moment you spotted Jake a wide smile spread across your face, and before you could think your feet were already moving. You broke into a run, heart pounding with joy. When you finally reached him, you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. He hugged you back, his arms tightening around your waist as he lifted you up and spun you around. Jay made a face when you pulled away from Jake, "You act like you didn't just meet yesterday,"

"Don't sulk, I missed you too." You threw yourself on him, although he put up a bit of a fight, he hugged you back nonetheless, "it feels good to see you smile like this again." Heeseung pushed Jay aside before engulfing you in his arms. "Missed you so much, can't handle these two without you, I was crashing out so bad." Sunghoon joined as soon as Heeseung let go of you, "Shall we head inside?"

All five of you made your way inside the arcade, you stood back letting the boys have their moment together, they rarely spend time together like before since Sunghoon moved in with you. Jake noticed your absence before anyone else did, making his way towards you he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards dance machines where Heeseung was currently standing, you stood beside him. He gave you a smirk before starting the game, you smirked back challenging him. What started as friendly competition, turned into you, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon rolling on the floor laughing as Heeseung slipped and fell.

"You okay?" You extended your hand to help him, he glared at you half angry half smiling as he held your hand. "You aren't hurt right?" He shook his head no, before holding Jake on a chokehold since he couldn't stop laughing. The rest of the day was filled with laughter, with conversations and gossip you missed having with them. For a moment, as you looked at them animatedly talking, pushing each other in annoyance everything felt normal.

For a moment you felt at ease, when Jake whispered something funny in your ear you turned to your other side, almost instinctively, to tell Soojin about it, then you stopped when realization hit you. This wasn't the first time it was happening, and you're sure this wasn't surely the last. All of you were still trying to adjust to life without one member of your little friend group.

Heeseung, Jay and Jake occasionally visited Soojin's parents if they happened to be near your hometown. Her mother once expressed her gratitude towards the boys' presence to you. You were happy that none of you were erasing her from your life, she was still present with you all. Especially in small moments like this when any one of you suddenly remembered her. She wasn't physically there with you, but you made sure she'll be with you in your memories.

Sunghoon nudged your shoulder with his, noticing that you were in your head again. He raised his eyebrows and you smiled, shaking your head as you ate your food, joining the conversation back. Sunghoon leaned back, his hand sliding across the back of your chair. You shot him a suspicious glance, he just shrugged. The night continued and soon Jay, Jake and Heeseung left.

The weather started getting cool again, you had your jacket with you this time, Sunghoon bought it knowing you forget easily, he was starting to get suspicious that you were doing this on purpose. "You zoned out again, you're doing that more these days." You gave him a look, "I'm trying my level best with everything, leave me alone." He just shrugged, draping his hand on your shoulder and pulling you flush against his body. You yelped but slid your hand against his waist anyway. You both decided to walk for sometime before heading back, the weather was too good to stay inside.

"You know," He started, you looked at him but his eyes were trained straight ahead, "there are times when I don't know what to do with the time I have in my hand, I don't need to have my phone close to me incase something would happen, I got so used to doting around Soojin that I don't know what I should do now. I moved in with you, so now even if I'm worried about you I can just solve your worries in person, I almost feel empty." He was looking at you now, his smile soft but still strained.

"I get it, but maybe it's time for us to honor her wishes rather than feeling guilty about it. You remember what she wrote in the letter right?" Sunghoon sighed, coming to a stop when he could see the city's skyline. You gave him the letter addressed to both of you after a few days of living with him. You stood beside him, recalling the things Soojin wrote for you. You may have known her your whole life, but you realized you failed to understand the roots of her struggles while trying your best to help her cope.

'I felt like an obstacle in your life, I wanted you both to focus on your own life more. I wanted to just feel normal with you. I couldn't bear watching you guys miss important milestones in your life in order to help me with my own, I felt like I was using you. I love and appreciate both of you, please live your life without any burden. Live your life the way you were supposed to, not focused on me, but on yourself. You'll both do that for me right?'

"Wanna go back?" You asked as you turned around to go back towards your car when you felt his hand grasping yours and pulling back. Your feet stumbled and you collided against him. You looked up meeting his gaze, the cold air sending a chill down your spine. His gaze darkened, his other hand sneaking around your waist to hold you properly.

"Aren't you a little too impatient?" He tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning close till your noses touched. Your breath hitched, one hand still in his hold and other clutching his jacket tightly. You felt his hand slip off your waist but neither of you made any attempt at pulling away. He held you in place with his gaze, the hand holding yours drawing small circles around your wrist. Your pulse was so erratic you were afraid he could feel it.

He raised his hand, his fingers lingered on your cheek, the softness his eyes held made your heart flutter. You tilted your head, and your eyes fluttered close. He looked at you for a moment, not too long because he was losing his control too. His lips met yours, the touch gentle, cautious like he was giving you a gateway to pull back if you wanted to. You sighed against his lips, your hand found its way towards his collar, pulling him closer. Something shifted inside him at your actions, his movements a little clumsy, he pulled you closer deepening the kiss.

The sheer pressure of his actions drew out a surprised gasp from you. You hand tightly holding his shoulders to ground yourself. He caught you just in time, without breaking the kiss. His lips parted, tongue sliding across your bottom lip, you parted your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth like he waited all his life just for this moment. You didn't feel the shift in your positions till your back hit the railings of the sidewalk you were standing at.

His hands cradled your face, you pulled away just enough to breathe, forehead touching, trembling and breathless, as if breathing was just another interruption. He didn't stop, pecking your lips once, twice and once again just because. His lips found their way towards your forehead, then your eyes, nose, cheeks and they were back again on your lips. The kiss this time was slow, the urgency was still present, but it was masked with something softer.

The distant traffic sound made you well aware of your surroundings. You pushed him away gently, your hand trembling against his chest. You looked at his state, chest heaving, hair disheveled, corner of his lips stained with your lipstick. A soft laugh escaped your lips, you hand raising to remove the lipstick stain from his lips, he leaned against your touch, his actions pulling at your heart, that's when you noticed.

You blinked, unsure if you were imagining things, you bought your hand closer. You froze, your fingers brushing against the cold metal you were sure wasn't there before. Your eyes widened when you recognized the bracelet which was neatly placed around your wrist, the one you saw in Sunghoon's room at Jay's party. "When did it get here? Is this for me?"

Sunghoon just smiled at you, locking you in between his arms and railing. "Hmm, for you, and about how it got there, I have my ways," he smirked, one of his hands tracing your lips. He placed the bracelet on your hand when he pushed you against the railing in the middle of kiss, the realization making heat crawl up your face. Sunghoon's lips find yours again, almost as if it's the only place that brings him solace. Your fingers grabbed his hair, pulling him closer. You don't remember how much time you spent just kissing each other, you've lost track of it far ago anyway.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips, pushing his body closer to yours if it was even possible. For a minute you forgot how to breathe. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember and I regret not having you like this before. Soojin was right, should've made the move years ago."

You pulled back, "Soojin knew about it?" He just smiled, kissing your cheek before continuing, "Well, Soojin knew about my feelings way before I did, it's kind of ironic if you think about it, something about the way I look at you when you're not noticing. She bought this bracelet for you, she wanted me to give it to you when I finally act on my feelings so here we are."

You held the bracelet closer, "is this her way of giving blessing to us?" Tears welled up in your eyes as a choked sob escaped your throat. She knew Sunghoon had feelings for you, she knew you had feelings for him, and she was trying her best to not be in the middle of it. You always thought you were the one getting isolated when in reality, it was Soojin trying her best to not get in the middle of both of you. Sunghoon wiped the tears that escaped your eyes, his own vision getting blurry. "I couldn't bring myself to confess when I knew she had feelings for me too."

"And that is the exact reason she was so fed up with us Sunghoon." His head hung low, in the process of trying to protect your best friend you both completely disregarded her need to blend in. Yours, Sunghoon's, her parent's life circled around her to the point she felt suffocated, maybe she felt guilty for unintentionally being the reason people around her neglected their own needs.

You cupped his face, kissing his eyes. You pulled him in your arms, inhaling his scent. "I love you too, more than anything." His arms tightened around your waist and you stayed like that for a while basking in each other's embrace. You both made your way back to the car to go to your apartment, one of his hands grabbing your thigh and occasionally squeezing it. Both of you were still riding on the high of your newfound confessions. None of you could keep your hands off of each other but decided to take things slowly. You had plenty of time together anyway.

You were ready to call it a night, freshly changed into your pajamas when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. Sunghoon was leaning against the doorframe, in his hand he carried a red box. You looked at him curiously, a silent question flickering behind your eyes. He just shrugged and placed the box in your lap and sat before you.

"The black box is the one Soojin gave me when she confessed, when I went home and opened it, the box was filled with different keychains and charms and polaroids of us," He explained as you opened the box then he continued, "there were polaroids of me, you, hers, of both of us, of me and Soojin." You nodded at him as your eyebrows furrowed looking at the contents of the box.

You looked at him and he just scratched the back of his neck smiling sheepishly, "I separated the polaroids which had you and me, and even your candids in my bag and Soojin saw them one day. She just laughed and told me to get another box to keep the things so I won't embarrass myself like that in front of you." You laughed at his words and he gave you a look which said, 'this-is-the-reason-I-wasn't-telling-you-about-things-before.'

The box was filled with the polaroids of you, of you and him together, the locket which you once left in his house, the greeting card you gave him on his 12th birthday, your drawings which you thought you threw away in trash bins. You laughed at yourself, so this was the reason why the black box was filled with polaroids of Soojin and Sunghoon only. You put them back, closing the box and putting it inside the drawer of your nightstand.

"If I had been a little bit more curious that day, I would've found you had a huge crush on me on Jay's birthday," You sighed dramatically, plopping yourself back onto your bed. Sunghoon lightly slapped your knees before making his way upwards, his arms placed on either side of your head as he hovered above you, caging you with his body. "You're such a menace," he grumbled, putting all of his weight on you, as he trailed kisses down your neck.

You sighed softly, his hands roaming all around your body. His mouth is working on your neck, sucking, biting, licking. You were sure your neck would be adorned with love marks after he was done with you. You ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand sliding across his shoulder as you both drifted off to sleep.

You don't think you'll ever forget what Soojin did in order for you to be here at this moment. Soojin was an integral part of both of your lives and she'll continue to play that part forever. She will always remain the link which joined you and Sunghoon together. You know she's still with you, maybe not how she used to be.

But now her presence lingers when morning sunlight makes you groans, it lingers when Sunghoon makes home cooked meals for you, when Jake wraps his scarf around your neck when you forget it yet again, when Heeseung ruffles your hair and constantly reminds you to eat during exam season, in a way Jay asks you to help him make flashcards for his study materials.

nsfw tags― big dick jay, masturbation, small instance of dubious consent, tit obsessed jay, groping and grinding, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum stuffing-ish, pussy eating, fingering, basically it’s jay doing stuff to you, this ain’t smut this is making love, also reader doesn’t shave her coochie and jay fucking loves it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having a stray eye isn’t typically something you afford yourself when it comes to men. Things tend to change with time though, that much you know is true. 

It was proven to you for the first time when your ex husband decided to up and leave you three weeks before your due date for a woman–well, girl, fresh out of high school. Years of trust and promises crushed with just a single sentence and a slam of the door. Time must’ve changed you for him to leave so heartlessly. Time must’ve changed him to become so cold. 

 It was proven again when you were able to heal despite never believing you could. Seconds of pain turned to minutes, to hours. Days. weeks. Months. Years of pain before being able to wake up and feel somewhat numb to it all. Like a flip switch in your head that told you that you can be happy now even if as a single mother. After all, the hard part was over. 

It took some four to five years, but it did happen. Time did change you, it healed you, it matured you. As your child grew, so did you. And for the better, you think. You count your blessings of living a life far more lavish than you ever could have anticipated given the circumstances that had been thrown at you. Even to the point of nesting, wanting another child, wanting a big and happy family. But alas, your ex husband had better things to do. 

At the end of the day, you’d never be able to call this home yours if you had stayed with your ex husband. He didn’t like this kind of “flashy” lifestyle, and to him, everything you wanted seemed too flashy for him. Perhaps he was right to some extent, as you recognize the brand name goods you now own, solely because you had promised yourself in the depths of your despair that you’ll get to a point in life where you can buy yourself everything you not only need, but want. So, here you are, owning an expensive home, in a nice neighborhood, with a nice car and a nice pool. 

Your daughter has everything she could want and need too, aside from a sibling, it’s certainly still more than what you had growing up and it’s all because of you. A fully decorated bedroom drenched in glitter, purples, creams, yellows, and pink, her favorite color. All sorts of play houses, costumes, dolls, a few lego sets, and even some plastic swords and knives for the days she wants to pretend to be her favorite movie characters. Clothes she can grow into, and a nice little fund building up for her as she grows up. Her first car, college, help for a down payment on her own first house. 

Both of you have everything you could ever want or need and for that, you’re so proud. Especially knowing your husband would have never believed you could make it this far without him. Still, despite having everything you could ever ask for, there’s something in you that feels empty.

Time changes things. 

Time changes a lot of things, you note more than usual, as the man you’ve been ogling for the past three weeks makes himself far more known to you than you ever wished he would.

The interaction with him was always so quick before today and given the fact that he was a complete stranger, you never quite invited him into your home considering–you know, small child and all. You had hired him over text. Jay, your neighbor said his name was. His handsome features didn’t offer you anything more than a clean pool and a wandering eye. 

Your neighbor apparently has a friend who has a cousin that has an even nicer pool than you do. Given, it’s only a nicer pool due to the fact that this young man, Jay, tended to it weekly and made damn sure it could be drunk out of if a person had a craving for chlorine. 

You feel like an idiot now that it didn’t dawn on you quick enough. Sure, he looked a bit familiar to you but who doesn’t when you’re always out and about seeing so many different faces on a daily basis? His name, Jay, didn’t ring any bells. Now though, the shame of staring at his sweaty pecs and biceps came crashing down the moment you realized who Jay actually is. 

He didn’t do a damn thing to remind you either, if anything, all he did was walk around all sweaty in the afternoon heat with his tank top either sticking to him, or off entirely. It appears that you had just been too busy running errands with your child, considering his shifts were always when you were home. Too busy cooking, cleaning, reading, lounging. Too busy looking at…well, not his face. 

Too busy to give the man a glance more than that of a slice of pie behind a bakery window. 

Jay. 

Since fucking when was that his name?

“Park Jongseong.” You whimper near mortified, three weeks too late as you hand him his pay with nervous hands. “Spray-cheese in my hair Jongseong?” 

“Ah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that.” He smiles at you with that crooked grin, a knowing look that any man at a bar would give you if he had caught you checking him out. Then, he pockets the hefty amount of cash that you hand to him. “I go by Jay more often these days.” He trails off, an amused smirk half-falling as he looks at your expression of realization. “You can call me whatever you want though.”

He’s well aware of how often you’ve checked him out since he started intentionally taking his clothes off. After all, it’s mid-july by this point and the sun baring down on him doesn’t quite call for a fucking turtle neck sweater. Or a T-shirt, or a tank top, for that matter. It calls for all skin baby, beautifully tanned and toned for you and any of your neighbors to look at if they so wanted to. 

Jay doesn’t work out for nothing, after all. Summer after summer, he’s found himself to be quite fond of the rich women that hire him for their pool services. Always wanting an attractive young man to wander around half naked and satiate their lack of sex life with their husbands, or boy-toys, or what have you. He knows all that extra pay isn’t because he does a good job either. He’s gotten winks, small comments, even a few offers of his body for more pay.

He’s turned them all down, of course. For a full-on affair, anyway. Jay has gotten a few blow jobs and quickies as a tip before though, and a lot of that is why he keeps getting referred to more women. Richer women. Never single women. 

Until you. 

He quite enjoyed catching you looking at him. Especially given the fact that he knew exactly who you were when you introduced yourself to him via text. That little childhood crush on you came back within an instant upon actually seeing you again. Truly, he had forgotten all about you up until that fateful day three weeks ago. 

If he’s being honest, he’s been pining something fierce since he first stepped foot on your property. Excitement swelled inside of him just to see you again. To see if you’re still hot, to see how you’re doing, what you’re doing. How your life is going.

 He knew you didn’t recognize his nickname through text, and he definitely knew you didn’t recognize him to be eating him up with those eyes of yours either. So, he played along, enjoying it while he could before it would inevitably dawn on you. Still, he remembers you so well from back then. Crazy to know that he rarely thought of you for the past twelve years or so, and how all those little butterflies of his came back in a far more mature way. He was only ten back then, but he’s a man now. 

Twenty two and perfectly sound as a man who knows what he likes. The fact that you happen to fall into that category is no fault of his own, honestly. It’s your fault if anyone’s at all. Jay is a man that likes a specific type of woman too. Woman. Not a girl, not a young lady, not a free spirit, nor a prude. He is drawn to the idea of experience, to the idea of settling down. It’s not easy to find that at his age, in college, surrounded by party girls and casual drug use. 

And, well, imagine his smile upon seeing your lovely, lavish home with the large pool, no ring on your finger, a whole fucking child, and your motherly instincts when you buckle her into the car for an errand. Oh and the broken fence in the far back of your yard.

You’re a single mom. 

A hot single mom who lives lavishly. One who could probably use a man’s help around your house.

He half expected you to be able to recognize him when he appeared for work the first time. He even had a monologue in his head on what to say to you, and how to present himself. You didn’t seem to take notice though, introducing yourself to him as if you hadn’t spent all that time in his childhood home when you were a teenager. Like you never mothered him, or put him to sleep with the soft lul of your voice when you let him watch all those scary movies before bed. 

 Clearly you’re too busy experiencing life to notice the way he fawns over you too. Hating how you’re more reserved than the other lavish, fixed-up women. You seem to have standards, or maybe it’s just priorities ... that's so hot. Truly, it only makes him want you more because by now, the other women would already be rubbing all over him. The ones who shouldn’t be wanting him the way they do. So, yes, he’s always stealing glances at you with sparkling dark eyes, fantasizing in his head that this pool is his to clean now, because that’s what a good man would do for you, right? With him around servicing your pool and lawn, you’d never need to hire or spend money on another broke ass college student again.

Yes. That’s how quickly he fell into this infatuation solely because you looked at him like you want it without realizing who he was. Hell, without realizing how perfect you are in terms of what he wants.

God, how are you still single? 

Like, why do you have a child and a house so beautiful without a man wandering around doing all of this work for you? Not that you couldn’t do it on your own, it’s just, you clearly have the means to make a man do as you please. Why haven’t you?

You happen to fall almost perfectly into the categories of what he’s looking for. Save for the fact that now you recognize him as that kid you used to babysit rather than the man who tries to be sexy while cleaning your pool. Which is a fucking shame, if he’s being honest, to be written off as that same ten year old child rather than a fucking man who very clearly has needs and desires. 

The point is– Jay wants you and he parades around your pool for you to look at him. So what if you used to babysit him? It’s not like you’re an old swamp-hag trying to lure him with candy. You’re just…a woman. And he’s just a man. 

“Well, thank you for cleaning again,” You trail off in an awkward tone, shifting your eyes to anywhere but him. He watches you though, smiling a smile you know all too well from his childhood antics. It must mean something different now, or maybe not. “I guess I’ll see you next week?” 

“Well, actually,” Jay offers, “Would you be opposed to–” You cut him off instantly with an awkward wave of your hand.

You don’t know why you make assumptions, maybe from that damned smile on his face, but you do recall your ex husband reminding you time and time again that it’s one of the things he hated about you. 

Assumptions. Always thinking the worst, or perhaps the most filthy of situations and expressions. To be fair, you feel guilty about how you’ve been looking at him, you can’t help but panic trying to pretend like it never happened, and that he never saw it happen.

“I’m not interested, Jongseong.” You respond hastily, pressing your thumb to your bottom lip to bite the skin on it, keeping your eyes away from him with the awkward words. After all, he knew who you were this whole time and paraded around like that? 

Even before recognizing him yourself, you know men well enough to know when they’re trying to flaunt. Is it so wrong to assume?

“Interested in what?” Jay tilts his head knowingly, seeing the way you buckle under the guilt of staring at the very man you used to tuck into bed every night. He can see the way you try to push those sexual thoughts you had away in the quick rejection to a simple assumption. 

 “I was just going to ask if you want me to fix your fence.” 

Ah, you did get ahead of yourself through the guilt, and you’re far too aware of it as you draw your eyes back to him and note the expression on his face. Amused, maybe a bit of concern in his eyes, even? 

“Ah, um–” You start, trailing your eyes down your fence line never once noticing a break in it. Jay is quick to point though, leaning to you with a whisper of “right there.” And well, you did not need to hear that tone in his voice the way you just did.

God, it’s so awkward.

“Well, how much would that cost me?” You question with an empty voice, staring at the broken fence. 

“Free.” He uses the same tone, leaning away from you now and smiling wide. “That is, if you provide lunch.” 

Well, despite the awkwardness, that break over there would cost you a pretty penny to fix, and your daughter needs the safety of playing in her own yard without random animals or worse, people, making their way in. Plus, you’re quite fond of saving money. How else would you be here if you weren’t good at it? And now, given that you’re most definitely not interested in Jay, what's the harm in making a few sandwiches for someone you already know well enough? It’s not like you’ve never made him lunch before.

The awkwardness will pass and your guilt will subside. You both will laugh at it over a cold glass of iced lemonade, surely. It’s not like you realized who he was anyway, it’s not like you’re just gonna keep looking at him like that. You should just push forward and it’ll all be fine. 

“Hell, I’d even watch the kiddo so you can have a break every now and then.” He watches your reaction, wanting to ask so many questions about why you’re single, who the father is, where he is, why he isn’t here. “After all, I learned quite a bit from you.” 

For a second you consider that too.

And there’s three reasons as to why you should. The first being that you were literally just looking for a new child care facility due to learning of the staff coming to work while sick. Your poor daughter came home with a fever just last week, and you’ve had little luck in finding a place with the same educational benefits for her. 

The second being that, well, while you’re not hurting for cash or anything, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to put a little more back for her college fund. Or for fun little vacations. 

And lastly, despite your guilt of lusting over someone you shouldn’t have, you know Jongseong and you know his family even better. No background check would be needed, your daughter could be in the comfort of her own home rather than a classroom setting that she’s sure to see for at least twenty years of her life in the future. 

So, yes. You consider it instantly, and Jay sees it. 

You only know of the childhood version of him and, well, the slutty pool-side version of him apparently. If only you knew of that other side of him and how fond he is of watching his own younger cousins. How good he is with children, and how much he clings to the idea of being a father one day.

Jay is great with kids, with or without them having a hot mom.

And well, he knows that he’s fond of looking at you at least. Besides, as long as you can work with his class schedules, he’d be willing to do just about anything to play pretend-husband, even if you’re unaware of it. 

“Is that so?” You finally ask, curious eyes looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be out living the life? College parties and such?” You add, wondering why such a great deal has managed to flop down on your lap. The idea of even cheaper childcare without the risk of unvaccinated children, and sick caretakers being far too good of a deal to pass up. 

“Well, yeah I guess.” He shrugs, leaning backwards to stretch and roll his shoulders. “Not really my scene though. I have classes Monday and Wednesday all day, Tuesday and Thursdays my classes are online. If you can work around that, I’d rather just be making money and chilling.” 

You think about it just for a second more when he continues. 

“I can be here on weekends too. Maybe you should be the one out relaxing and having some drinks.” 

“Well, I don’t quite need that, or for you to be here on weekends.” You think as you say it, knowing you have given up on going out to try and meet men two years ago. “I could pay you though, let’s say, thirty an hour?” 

Well, shit, that’s not too bad at all, especially considering he’s about to give up on cleaning the pools of a few women in his contacts for this. It’s a major pay cut, but still enough to get by comfortably if you’ll have him multiple times a week. That plus the pool cleaning money? And free lunch? 

“Oh, you don’t go out at all? I don’t see why not, could probably get a man in no time–” Jay ignores the wage offer and pushes to note the singlehood he had been noticing for the past three weeks. “and the pay is fine.” 

“Ah, well, the dating pool isn’t so great in this neck of the woods.” You scratch the back of your neck when you say it. “That aside, I'll have her in day care on the days you can’t be here, but it really would be a big help. Thank you for the offer, Jongseong. And for the fence too.” 

He watches you with a firm nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts, still entirely shirtless in front of you. 

“And the pool.” You add quietly after a moment. 

“I think you’d be surprised about the dating pool.” He smiles as he pushes the subject back to what you had previously said, hoping you believe those words before continuing. “So, when do you want me to start?” 

“Is tomorrow too soon? You’re okay to set up here with your online classes?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” He smiles.

“I’m sure she would be so happy knowing she won’t be going to daycare–” You clap, feeling a bit less awkward despite the boldness of the man in front of you. You’re sure he’s just teasing you for knowing you checked him out. “I know I am.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a little too perfect, actually.

After that first day of watching your child and making a lazy attempt at “fixing your fence,” he’s settled in like it’s home. He wishes it was, with the lavish lifestyle in a house far too pretty compared to his own living space with piles upon piles of laundry he’s too lazy to pick up for himself. 

It’s different for you though. Different when he’s here.

Truly, he feels like he’s living the life after a couple of weeks with decent pay and a comfy space to do his homework. He watches your child, which is arguably the hardest part of the job but she’s well behaved for him. In fact, she seems to have taken a shine to him.

He’s starting to be very intentional with taking far too long to work on your fence too, and still maintaining your pool. He’s trying to drag this out for as long as he can. Even if just to see if you still look at him when you come home the same way you did before recognizing him. You never do though. When his shirt is off and he’s wiping his forehead in the sun, you don’t look at him anymore.

Hell, he’s even considered breaking things in your home just to give himself more jobs to do. More things that make him feel needed, like a husband. More things that you thank him for fixing, even if it breaks again two days later.

And ah, the food in your fridge is always free reign to him, that large television in the living room too. God, sometimes he dreads going home, and by sometimes, he means all the time. Who in their right mind would ever fucking want to live outside of this lifestyle? He really can’t believe you’re single, nor can he believe that he has the opportunity to be in your home, close to you. It shouldn’t take too long now to convince you, right? That you don’t necessarily have to be single? That you need him around to live even more comfortably?

In short, Jay is in his head about how he’s practically just roleplaying as your stay-at-home husband before having to go back to his shitty little apartment and remind himself that he’s just a fucking college student with no interest in the people on campus. And like, even with the way you come home from work, all groggy and exhausted on the days he’s there, you always thank him before giving him his pay. What he likes best about those nights is when you’re too exhausted to even pay him and you promise to do it next time.

In his mind, that’s you promising to see him again. 

He could give less of a shit about the pay at this point, as long as he gets to be in this house, smelling your favorite candles and dish detergents, seeing you, being a semi-father to a child who deserves more love than the two of you combined can give…he’ll fucking do anything you want for free. 

It’s difficult sometimes, like he really can’t help it. Some days wandering around this house and imagining how the two of you could have landed on buying it together. How the rooms would be organized if he were here from the start. Claiming his spot on your couch like any dad would. Playing dolls with your daughter, laughing with her, letting her paint his nails and put his hair in little pigtails. He even cleans your pool as if it were his own, meaning, he genuinely cleans it. 

He has taken it upon himself to mow your lawn, confusing the yard workers that you apparently hired years ago. Did he accidentally fire them? Maybe, but any good husband would save you money, right? He checks your mail, waves to your neighbors and lets them make assumptions. 

And every single fucking night it’s harder and harder to go back home.

Especially after a full day of playing dad then seeing you come back home so tired. Turning off that switch in his head isn’t easy. He wants to greet you like the husband you don’t have. He wants to ease your hard days in so many ways. Tell you he’s proud of you, that you still look so pretty after an exhausting shift of whatever the fuck you do. He wants to serve you dinner, run you a bath, fix your hair, lay you down– oh, he’s fantasizing again. Unfortunately, he has to settle with seeing the relief on your face when he lets you know in a soft voice that he’s cooked dinner and he will heat it up for you before leaving, kiddo is in her room sleeping, no dishes in the sink, and laundry is folded and put away. 

He loves the appreciation in your eyes, and sometimes even sees a glint of sadness. He can tell you wish you had this from a person who isn’t here for pay. Someone who loves you, and loves your child, and feels joy in making your life easier. 

Fuck, if only you knew. 

And  you’d be lying if you tried to say Jay isn’t a godsend to you on the days he babysits. Many times you find yourself wishing he’d just move in and do everything that you can’t do. You’d pay him well, give him a guest room, whatever. But it’s just…not viable to support a full time employee like that, nor is it fair to your daughter. 

She needs a parent, not a paid college student who needs some extra cash. You have to be that parent, you have to make time for her and witness all of her joys in life. You have to protect her and never bring in faces of men who claim to want to be a father, only to run and break her heart more than your own. 

For now, you settle with this godsend of a little shit you used to babysit. Still you can barely believe that’s the same person, but again…time changes things. And thankfully, the awkwardness of what you did has died down drastically.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today, you’re more thankful for Jay than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. For the first time in years, you’re giving yourself a night out, all because you have someone you can trust to be here for your daughter.

He was so understanding when you called, even happy to come over right then and there to put her to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. “What? You need me there right now? I’m putting on my shoes.” He had said.

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit– he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are because it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 

To be fair, he didn’t realize you were going out out. He thought that maybe you were gonna go stay with a friend to celebrate and have a drink or two. 

In reality though, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. The way your tits look in that push-up bra and tiny ass top, when he’s used to seeing you head out in some sort of business casual outfit without an ounce of skin showing save for your ankles or wrists…jesus. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, hopping up on one leg when you walk away to try and adjust the chub in his pants, and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 

Jay shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you as if he didn’t just see the way your tits bounce and squish against your shirt with each move you make. 

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there. 

Just, look at you. Fuck, he’s staring again. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home, getting to plant his face right there. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, fixing and breaking that fucking dishwasher, cooking you dinner every single night he’s here just to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you imply you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed like that?

And you’re…

God, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 

This is what you look like when you want to impress a man? This is how you act? How you talk? Fuck, god, fuck– maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone else to fuck.

“Thank you, Jongseong,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 

He’s never heard you speak his name so sensually, the way his cock twitches forces him to wince away from you. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fucking hell, somehow it feels worse seeing you act like this after how many times he’s imagined it, all alone in his room. 

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, fat tits threatening to spill out, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 

Probably some loser he’s seen on campus too.

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Ah, lipgloss. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? Like he’s not about three seconds from dropping to his knees just to see you from the angle you deserve?! 

“It’s no problem.” Jay relents, dropping himself onto your couch instead and adjusting his body to sink deep into the cushions just to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

It’s really not something he can control after seeing you like that either. Your child is already in bed and he’s just sitting here on your couch with a throbbing, fucking weeping cock thinking about you. What’s stopping him from taking care of it? You’re not here, after all. 

You’re not fucking here. But everything about you is. 

And that’s how he finds himself in your bedroom for the first time, barely making it a foot into the room before closing the door and dropping to the floor. The scent in your room is different. It’s feminine, gentle, like the energy is kissing him all over and sending goosebumps straight to the head of his cock. He couldn’t even pull it out, already holding his breath with his hand down his pants, vigorously trying to get what he wants so badly yet knowing that his hand will never compare to you. 

And it’s here where he feels like a husband. Spilling against his pants with a silent, choked back sob as he stares forward at your bed, and the way you didn’t make it this morning. It’s messy, and he wants to be in that mess of sheets with you more than anything. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend now. Every. Fucking. Weekend.  You ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. There have even been a few times where you’ve exposed your ex husband during your rants, giving Jay little hints to follow as to why you’re single, and how he left you. 

Still, he knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this to not only him, but yourself. It’s mostly because you’re technically coming home to him though. 

And every single time, you go back to your bedroom to grab his payment even though it could wait until morning, considering he’s been sleeping in the guest room– all he can think about is how he’s been in your room. He’s gotten off countless times by now by the smell of your room alone, still barely able to even reach your bed to lay in it himself for a better experience. God, he’s probably memorized each little fray in your carpeted bedroom floor by now with how much he’s zoned out on it mid-jerk off session right there on his knees at your door. 

He’s truly pathetic for you. 

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock again in your guest room before sleep, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in, smothered by the sheets you meticulously picked out to match the walls of the room. Moaning for you, practically crying for you to let him do it all. 

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….He does everything for you, why the fuck don’t you see it?!

Click.

Jay’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-screams “Shit, fuck–”

Jay looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out an alcohol scented sigh. 

His nostrils flare as he holds his breath, feeling your tit press against his arm, smelling the drinks, the sweat, and the dulled perfume on you. Then, a hint of something else. Musk. 

You’ve been with a man. 

He holds back a gesture at the way you lean on him. Nothing more he could want at this moment but to hold you tightly and tell you that he’s got you, despite the panic in his stomach at the way he sniffs out another man. Out of lust, love, desperation, frustration. This is the closest you’ve been to him for this long. You feel clammy and cold, a clear indication that you drank far, far too much. Your tank top is sticking to you, your eyes are a bit glassy–

“You’re late.” He says shortly.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother. 

You should’ve just gotten a hotel for the night and slept there to dream a little longer. 

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?” 

Jay fixes his eyes on you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The way you’re slouching…seemingly forgetting that you’re wearing a skirt and basically flashing your panties at him. God, the things could do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. He tries to shake those thoughts for now, and instead, inspects you from head to toe.

He’s never seen you look so relaxed. Chest raising and falling with each breath, hair a little messy, lipstick stains smeared on the outsides of your lip line. He chooses to ignore the faint swell against your neck indicating someone has been sucking on you. But, well, he can’t ignore it. Both his cock and heart aches at the very thought.

“You’ve been kissing?” Jay tries to ask nonchalantly. 

“A lot more than that–” You smile, feeling a flush cross your cheeks before the disappointment hits you square in the gut. 

Jay watches your face fall, and he mimics it by falling onto the couch and sitting by your head…you know, allowing you to lay your head on him if you want to. You’d probably not notice his arousal anyway, given your state. 

“Oh?” He asks gently, the disappointment now showing plainly on not just your face, but his own.

“Thought I was gonna go home with him, turns out he decided to be done after a blowjob in the parking lot.”

Oh, the way his blood boils. Not for the fact that you were used or rejected, but for the fact that you found someone that you were interested in and genuinely intended to leave your home life in his hands for however fucking long. Really? Just gonna leave him here all alone? Like he couldn’t do better for you?

“It’s for the better–” Jay says as he shivers with irritation, struggling to keep his façade up. It’s definitely not what you wanted to hear, and definitely not what you’d have expected to hear from a college guy at all either.

“This happened last time too, except he didn’t even get me to the parking lot.” You huff, unaware of how much you’re sharing right now. 

He bites back the anger yet again, inhaling deeply before releasing a calming breath through his nose just to contain it. So…it has happened more than once? 

“Why don’t you let me take you out someday?” He says suddenly, well aware that you’ll probably never remember he said it in the first place. 

If anything, he’s testing the waters for his own sake. He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t at least take advantage of this moment a little bit. 

“Then who will watch my daughter?” You respond in slurred speech, not even comprehending who it is that’s asking you this question right now. Not even thinking about your history with him, or the family ties. 

He, on the other hand, is quite entertained by the way you don’t bring the history up like he expected. His cock twitches at it, bumping your head just a bit, not enough for you to notice apparently. Fuck, it would be so easy for him to pull it out right now, and just…tap your lips with it. 

Maybe you’d even open your mouth for him. 

“I’ll skip class on a Wednesday, we can go while she’s still in daycare.” He continues through an almost-moan, encouraging the conversation to stay positive.

“Jongseong–” You slur before clearing your throat and sitting back up in a dizzy show of how drunk you are. “You know I can’t do that. It’s too weird.” 

In all fairness, you know he has like…a thing for you. After all, why else would a college dude be spending his weekends here babysitting your kid? It’s not like you haven’t noticed the way he checks you out before you go out for the night. Why would he do all of this if he didn’t have some sort of attraction to you? Sure, you’re taking advantage of it as best as you can despite how you didn’t recognize him at first. 

Despite how deep down, you very well know how attracted to him you are too. 

“Only because you make it weird.” Jay rolls his eyes as he looks at you, spreading his legs out to adjust his comfort, noting the way you glance down to his lap and see it. “I’m a grown man–” He starts, spreading his legs wider, pressing his cock against his pants to the point you can practically see the outline. ”you know this.” He continues, trying to be bold now by reaching forward and moving a strand of your hair from your cheek. 

“You’ve seen it.”

You freeze, suddenly feeling entirely too sober to be talking about this kind of thing with him. With Jongseong. God, his mother would fucking kill you if she found out he’s in your house while you’re out trying to get fucked by whoever is willing to love you temporarily. 

Jay sees you thinking though, and continues to take the advantage now that he’s feeling brave. Now that you’ve seen the twitch in his pants and haven’t moved off the couch, or told him to go home. 

“I saw you watching me when I was cleaning your pool, multiple times.” He whispers snidely. “You stopped when you realized who I am. Why?”

“Jongseo–…” You trail off. “You know this isn’t okay. What would people think of me? There are rules, and I will not go down this route with you.”

A rush of air hits your face and suddenly, warmth hits your cheek. You feel him so close, closer than ever before. It’s dizzying. Jay is over you, hovering with one hand ghosting over your hip. 

“You want to though, don’t you?” He gets even closer now, darting his eyes down at your chest and unable to pull them away. “Knowing how good I am with your daughter? How well I clean up? How strong I can be–”

You swallow hard. For a moment, you almost lean into him. You almost melt right then and there, the need for intimacy so heavy inside of you after being left high and dry, knowing that you’d accept it from just about anyone at this point. But– this is Jongseong. You can’t. 

You really, really, can’t. 

The look of disappointment in his eyes kind of hurts when you’re pushing him away. That playful smirk falling faster than you think your sanity did the day your ex husband left you. 

“This–” You pause, realizing all too well how he’s used your drunken state against you for this conversation. “This is your last paycheck.”

“I don’t think so.” The smirk is back now, except…it’s different. “You know I promised her a Barbie dream house next weekend.” He smiles fully now. “She’s a bit attached, you know, even called me dad by accident the other day.” 

You’re shocked. 

“She…what?”

“You know she’s attached to me already, don’t be selfish.” Jay shrugs at you while rolling his eyes, leaning against the couch again and turning his head to look at you. You try to pretend that you don’t see his hand slightly groping himself. “Guess she misses having a father around. Can’t be too easy for her, especially with her mom going out every weekend trying to fuck guys who would run the second they learn about her.” He ticks his tongue now, as if he’s pitying you more than your daughter. 

“Jongseong, that’s not–”

“That’s not, what?”

“That’s not what I’m doing…” You lower your voice to a near whisper, upset that you couldn’t even enjoy the drunken state you came home in, now feeling entirely too sober, and a little sick in the stomach. 

“Oh, so you haven’t gotten laid since I’ve been here–” He leans closer again now, trying to resume what he was going to do just moments ago. “They haven’t even touched you, have they?” His hands move to your thigh and presses down as if to hold you in place. “Why?”

“I try not to just sleep with anyone.” You lie, knowing you’d sleep with anyone just to feel wanted for once. And you’re trying to ignore his hands on you right now, trying desperately not to like it. It’s the first time a man has touched you in this house since your husband left you. As expected, you almost feel your knees buckle despite sitting comfortably. “I have to be careful, you know?”

“Mm, I know more than you think.” He leans into you, hovering yet again with his upper half over you as he whispers it. “Don’t need to be careful around me though.” He adds, this time trailing his voice right against your jaw, up to your ear. “You must be so frustrated.” He ghosts his lips there for a moment, waiting for you to push him away, or say something, anything, really. 

“Why would I be frustrated?” You lend the smallest of whispers, feeling the goosebumps against your skin rising at the mere thought of giving in just this once.

“Not having anyone to please you.” He adds now, landing a very slight kiss right under your lobe. “Always being used for someone else’s pleasure, maybe?”

You almost nod, feeling weak in your state and thoughts swimming with what if’s, morals, and anxieties. You’re frozen in place despite knowing a simple push would create the distance you need to breathe. 

“Your fingers will never be enough, will they?” He continues, essentially chaining you to this couch with his words alone. You can’t help the fight in your head, you need to feel wanted, and you want so badly to feel needed. “I bet you wish someone would love you for all that you are, not all that you have.” 

It’s silent as you feel his lips press down again, this time moving his body over you almost entirely. You can feel the couch dip a bit as he places all of his weight on a knee, moving his other leg to stand between yours.

“You must need someone to fill that hole in you by now, right? That pussy of yours?” He continues, his tone a bit more snide now as you give in to his hold with shaky breaths. 

And truthfully, Jay has never let himself come on this strong towards someone before. Usually the wives are doing this to him. They’re trying to convince him, encourage him. He’s so fucking horny right now though, with that daze in your eye, your legs spread around his knee, blinking up at him like a cheating wife. As if you want to apologize, as if you need him to forgive you. Need him to make everything better.

“I heard you the other day, you know, talking to your mom–” He smiles, tilting his head to look into your eyes, seeing a small shine in them. “You want another, don’t you?” He continues, moving his lips now just over yours as he, now, presses you firmly against the couch. “You must hate knowing that I’m the only person who can do that for you.” 

“God, Jay.” You immediately buckle, not realizing how suddenly he’s not Jongseong at this moment. He’s someone else. He’s Jay.

“Why don’t you go for girls on campus?! Don’t you have parties to be attending on the weekends instead of being here, trying to parent my chil–”

“Lower that voice of yours,” He whispers, eyes now hooded as he looks at you. “You know she’s asleep.”

God, he’s right. 

“Besides, why would I want them when I have you right here under me–” He tilts his head. “Looking so disappointed that you like it, too.” 

Right then, your moral code shines into the front of your mind at the consideration of giving in.

A weight on one shoulder chanting, “No! What would people say?! What would people think?!”, and then little to no weight on the other shoulder, echoing in a sweet song of “Finally! Someone who will love you! Finally! Someone! Finally!!! Finally!” 

You pause, not knowing at all what to do. Your body wants to push him away, even your mind and soul wants you to push him away. But you know deep down, you’d only push him away to see if he will try again. No man has ever tried for you like this, and you need more of it. 

To feel desired after so long of neglecting this side of yourself, it’s enough to make a person lose their footing in reality. To give in to just about anyone willing to look at you the way he is right now. It’s the fact that you go out to try and find it, and even with this alone, Jay has satisfied you more than any stranger promising to make you cum.

“I…don’t know what to say–” You stutter. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do.” Jay smiles, glancing at your lips before meeting your eye again. “Why not hand over the reins and relax for a–” His hand dips under your skirt, cupping your sensitive cunt in one hand alone. “Ah, I knew it.” Then, his other hand finds purchase on your chest, lifting your heavy breast in his hand with a blatant, hard squeeze.

After a sharp inhale you look away from him in shame, afraid to admit it despite the truth of it leaking through your panties and onto his palm.

“Wet.” He smiles, no longer looking at you but flicking his eyes back and forth from between your legs, and to your chest. Still, he fumbles around the wet spot, wanting so badly to lift these fingers to his mouth and taste. He’s fantasized about it, about how you’d taste, how warm it would be, what your pussy would feel like against his fingers–

And just as he’s pushing your panties to the side, pads of his fingers touching right where you need them with his eyes hooded and watching you closely, something snaps.

You push his hand away, only to feel him push back, holding you down with more force, gripping your tit tighter, sliding his fingers in before massaging the slit with a blatant moan on his lips. Then, you try again, shoving him back only to hear him chuckle and continue his antics until– you jump to your feet. It felt too good, too grounding to have him touching you like this. You nearly stumble back over the coffee table, but you manage to stand tall and firm despite the fact that even though your mind feels sober, your body is fucking wasted.

“Jongseong.” You argue immediately, using his name the same way you did when he was a child. “Stop.” 

He throws his hands up in defense, raising his brows in surprise. 

“I–” He pauses, staring at you. “I thought you were enjoying it, my mistake.” 

It’s the fact that you were. You were enjoying it too much, and there would have been no defending your actions if you had given in to the feeling. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. That’s what you are. 

Your ex husband was right all along. Out of everything you’ve accomplished since your heart was shattered, ripped to shreds, stomped on, you’d think it would take a lot more to break you. 

“You ask for too much.” Your ex husband had said once. “You can’t even stand to be alone for one day.” He had said a year or so later. Small digs on who you are and what you need sprinkled into small arguments, only to come more and more from the lips that you kissed and promised to kiss until you die. Until all of his words were to make you feel inadequate. Until everything he said to you stuck with you, forcing your confidence to bury itself six feet under. 

Are you to blame? As it stands, maybe. Why else would you be allowing yourself to consider it? Consider Jongseong, you mean. Never in your life would you have considered him of all people to be the one that you need. 

Never in your life would you have thought he’d be interested in a woman like you, in a situation like yours, with a child. Why did that night with him stick in your head more than every single mean thing your ex husband said to you? Why did his words seem more believable? 

Because you were drunk at the time? Wet, neglected, and drunk? 

Then why is it that you’re sitting here on your day off with your beautiful, bright-eyed daughter rummaging through your purse for whatever catches her eye….and you’re thinking about him? About what he's doing right now, how he’s feeling, if he’s eaten. 

Why is it that you’ve gone the entire week ignoring his texts, asking if you need him to come resume his job as babysitter? Why the fuck do you want to accept after how he took advantage of your state of mind? After he came onto you and tried to manipulate you? 

Despite all of his words ringing true in the back of your head. That was a dirty tactic he pulled on you. Yet, still…you want him back, and god fucking dammit you could cry knowing your daughter called him “dad.” You hadn’t believed him at first, but after this week alone it slipped from her mouth several times. 

“He’s not your dad, baby, that’s just Jay.” You remember correcting her more than once, and all she responded to you with was a confused expression. 

“Why not?” Is what her little voice gave back to you after her child-like brain decided it was fed up with you correcting her very right assumption of the guy who promised her the Barbie Dream House. 

Why not?

Why not?

Well, if you could have an adult conversation with a five year old it would be much easier to answer that. Because he sprayed cheese in your hair. Because you were seventeen and his babysitter when he was ten years old. Because you ogled him without recognizing him as your pool boy. Because of a lot of things.

“Uncle Jay.” You finally corrected her again. 

She shook her head, and continued doing and saying as her little mind pleased. It made you miss having a father around for her though. You think she needs it more than you do. 

And that fucking Barbie Dream house is what brings Jay back. 

Right at your doorstep today, with a gentle knock to the door and a timid smile on his face. He doesn’t even look at you when you open the door, and instead crouches down in front of you with the big, flashy box. He ignores you, tilting himself to look past you and straight at your daughter. 

You hold your breath when she runs to Jay, arms spread open and laughter shrieking in your ears. Your heart aches so much at this moment. 

Given your work schedule, you’d never gotten to see them interact much. He always came over as she was eating her breakfast, and you always came home after she was put to bed. You guess it’s fair that they have a bond now. She doesn’t even run at you like she does for Jay. In fact, the only time she ever did was when she had a bad day at daycare and had a tummy ache. 

She runs to you when she needs you, but she runs to Jay like she wants to. Like she genuinely is attached to him, and his kind smile, and his eyes, and probably that warm embrace that you’ve never let yourself experience.

You watch them, not allowing yourself to melt at the moment because you did not invite him over, nor did you give consent to bring that fucking doll house here. But you can’t say no now, as she clings to his leg when he stands up and looks at you with an almost irritated glint in his eye. 

His eyes trail all over you briefly too, as if checking for any new spots or marks that a man could have put on you. You feel seen, dipping your head to not meet his eye and scratching the back of your neck as if to hide a spot there. There isn’t a mark, it’s just…fear? nervousness? anxiety? 

And then he hauls the box in for her without saying a word to you. You watch him hard now that his back is turned. His voice sounds so loving when he speaks to your child as if she’s an equal. Plopping down on your living room floor with her and opening the large box. 

He Ooo’s and Aahhh’s with her as he pulls each piece out, connecting the walls, the doors, handing her little things to help him with. And both of them are so focused on the task at hand to create a safe space for all of her abused barbie dolls that… you feel invisible.

For the first time ever in front of them both, you feel like you are nothing but a ghost. That he is the single parent. As if you’re forgotten, less loved, not wanted, not even needed. 

There’s a bubbling in your gut when you tear up, reminding yourself that what Jay did that night was probably just, well, he’s a man. Men aim to fuck at all times usually, and you guess you should have expected it at one point from him because, again, you’re aware that he’s attracted to you. Even more aware now. 

But the way you feel right now outshines that. He’s ignoring you to keep your child happy. She is ignoring you because it seems Jay does a better job at it than you do. 

And, well, he’s not holding you down, whispering things in your ear, letting out frustrated little sighs at your drunken or drowsy words now. So, you say nothing. All you can do is go to the kitchen and prepare a snack, trying to force the tears to stay inside of you with quiet sniffles, hoping you can join their little picture perfect moment so that you can be helpful too. 

Your heart swells when they both look at you as you present a plate of snacks. You have to hold back tears again at the way their eyes shine, thanking you for the snacks. Jay’s eyes stay on you a bit longer though, as if saying “See? See what you’re making her go without?” 

You do see it. 

But…it can’t be him. As much as you wish it could be, you just can’t. There has to be another man out there just like him, one that doesn’t have a history with you that would cause whispers and questions. There has to be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

That moment you witnessed seems to have solidified Jay’s place in your home. Whether it be for babysitting or simply so your child can see him when she’s asking for him (which is often.) It’s kind of an issue, actually, because now the choice isn’t yours anymore and it appears Jay knows that.

You hate that you’re forced to see him for what he is now. How he proves himself over and over again to be the man you need. The issue is that you still don’t want it to be him. The bigger issue is that he’s breaking down your walls, doing little things for you, looking at you with those dark eyes– your resolve cracks and reminds you every time he’s here that maybe it could work. Maybe you’ll give him a chance. Maybe you won’t have to go out anymore looking to fill a void that no one else fits into. 

It’s the way that now, you can’t help but to compare him to your ex husband. The man who you loved for so long, who you genuinely thought you’d spend your life with happily and safely. Now, compared to Jay, your ex seems like…nothing. Like a little crack in your resolve. He was older than you by just two years, took care of you for so long, impregnated you, and slowly but surely throughout all that time grew to resent you too.

You still don’t know why, but perhaps it’s just because you were growing into your own. You were becoming more independent, though he never had the capability to realize just how much you depended on him during the very time he left you. 

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” Your ex had said to you on that fateful morning. 

Your belly was big as you tried to waddle up to him when he said that. You can’t help but think back now and wonder how pathetic you must have seemed when he yanked his arm from your grip, especially due to the difficulty of your pregnancy already. You were sick through most of it, only having a few good days here or there where that pregnancy glow would make your ex husband second-guess himself. 

The slam of the door after that was more exhausting than the months of pregnancy you’d gone through. It felt loud, so loud you could hear it vibrate throughout your whole body. You recall falling to the floor and carefully holding your stomach. It’s like all of the heartbreak pooled there. The loss of your husband three weeks before he got to meet the child he was supposed to love. Her little heart must have been breaking inside of you too. 

Double the pain.

And then you were mending yourself on your own. Going into labor early from stress,  your family helped take care of you more than her. You were needier. You were broken. 

And never, fucking ever, did you think you’d find yourself sitting comfortable in your lavish home realizing that your ex-husband didn’t deserve all of that pain from you. He left you for that girl, and not two months later did she leave him. 

Never did you think you’d find yourself thinking about Jay as a replacement either. Well, not a replacement, but like, maybe just…he’s the idea of a perfect dad if you pay attention to how your child talks about him. How they act together. How she cries for him before bed when he’s not there, asking you why you don’t read to her the way Jay does. Why don't you sing to her the way he does? Why don't you use the same voices for her dolls? Why you don’t cut her food like he does, why you don’t do this or that.

That’s what makes it click the most you think. The fact that Jay has given her something you never can. The love of a father. It doesn’t even feel like he’s babysitting at this point, he’s parenting, teaching her lessons, bandaging small boo-boos, fixing her hair,…cooking dinner, cleaning…existing here like he belongs.

Jay has done more for your daughter than your ex husband ever could have, more than you could have done for her too, you think. 

Even now, as you come home night after night and see him, you struggle to see him as anyone that isn’t who your daughter needs. Maybe who you need. 

His summer semester is coming to an end too, and it’s hard to see him as a college student now. He really does coursework and everything that needs to be done at your home all within a single work day? With no complaints at all? Lately, you’ve noticed that he’s been more focused on studying when he babysits too, but still your daughter listens to him better than she listens to you. 

Yet, still, it’s like you’re avoiding each other as you go through the motions, but you notice him more. You feel more discomfort because of it, mostly because you know your resolve about this is breaking. There’s a fear inside of you that revolves around him.

What if you missed your chance? 

What if it does end up being a mistake if he still wants you?

You don’t know what to do, but you know you want him. 

Some nights, Jay does sleep over due to exhaustion and you don’t even ask him to leave because you know he’s not doing it to try anything. The avoidance is loud. Lately, you come home from work and there he is, sitting up with his laptop on his lap but sound asleep, softly snoring. Each time, you remind yourself of how he’s sacrificing his study time to babysit. You know your child can be distracting and needy when she wants something too, but he doesn’t complain even a little bit. The least you could have done was bring him a blanket, which you did. And you woke the next morning to find him curled up on the same couch, laptop toppled over onto the floor.

Small, gentle acts of kindness towards each other but never face to face. You’ve woken to fresh coffee countless times, made exactly the way you like it because you know he’s watched you make it yourself. You’ve come home to re-stocked items, like milk and eggs, laundry detergent, and even toothpaste. It’s nice, and a small indication that he doesn’t resent you. Even through face-to-face avoidance on your part.

Tonight seemed different though, compared to all of the other nights when you can’t go out. You walked through the door to the smell of dinner and your child still awake, sing-songing at you the moment you walked in. 

“Dad said I can stay up late!” 

You quirk a brow, her calling him that now becoming a regular occurrence to the point it goes through one ear and out the other for you. You recall discussing her bed time though, with absolutely no exceptions.

“Did he now?” You hug her before taking off your coat, walking with her to the kitchen where you find Jay, placing down a small plate on the table with cartoon characters on it, right in front of two bigger plates with bigger portions of delicious looking food placed neatly on it.

Your heart swells, but your anxiety grows twice as big alongside it. This. 

This is what you’ve wanted for so long. This is what you never thought you could find. So, why is it that you still have push-back in your mind? Despite knowing that Jay has proven himself time and time again, you want to argue?! 

Perhaps it’s because you like the way he tries. Maybe you’re not ready to lose that feeling of being chased in some way, of being begged to let him stay. Maybe it’s because you begged your husband, desperate for him to keep you, but he left anyway. It feels like Jay gives you power over yourself, over your love-life, over everything, really. 

And if you were to actually accept his advances, even just a dinner on your table, what if he stops? What if he gets bored once he gets what he wants? After all, he’s still young, you can’t truly imagine he wants to do this forever. 

Not with you, and not with your daughter either. 

“What’s all this? Isn’t it a bit late for her to have dinner?” You question him instantly, anxiety bubbling up out of assumption alone. 

“We had a small snack a few hours ago.” Jay reassures you. “I finished my exams and had a burst of energy to celebrate, besides, it’s a Friday–” He goes to pull out a chair for you. “You don’t need to be up early either. A late dinner every now and then never hurt anybody.”

The way this is the first time the two of you have had a face-to-face conversation since…that night. His voice calms you, and that’s scary. 

You huff, happy because you could easily melt into this chair and pretend you’re having a family dinner, like you always wanted, like you never rejected a touch from him that you desperately wanted. You could just play along and pretend Jay is everything you need. Except, it wouldn’t even be pretending at this point. The whole idea of him has changed. But, again, that anxiety. You still have that little voice holding you back, no matter what you want, or what you need, you fear it’ll be ripped from you again if you were to let yourself be weak for another person.

“I’m really tired, Jongseong.” You explain, walking past the kitchen and towards your bedroom. “Thanks for dinner but I’m not too hungry and I just want to lay down.”

And with that, he watches you leave. No real appreciation, no congratulations on him finishing his exams, not even a kiss to your child’s forehead. Is he still expected to be the one to put her to sleep? 

Why is he even here? Why did he do all of this? 

His patience is running dry.

So, he eats with your child as your plate goes cold and he leaves it there. If you can’t even handle a dinner at the table with the person who cooked it, you can deal with your own fucking plate. Throw away your own fucking food, wash your own fucking dish. And if you can’t tuck your child into bed, he’ll do it, but you can shove that fake ass exhaustion right up your ass for all he cares. 

He knows you’re not exhausted. He’s seen you when you are. You’re just being an asshole to him at this point, trying to appear like you’re perfectly happy with the life you live when your drunken rants prove otherwise. You treat him like everything he does has an ulterior motive. Which, yeah, maybe it does, but he was genuinely excited to have someone celebrate the end of this semester with him. Maybe assuming you’d indulge him went too far. For the first time, he wasn’t doing it to impress you.

By the time Jay gets your daughter to bed, all tucked in with a little tune to fall asleep to, he closes her door and just stands there in the silence on the other side of it. 

You must really enjoy being a single mother, huh? This is why too. He always questioned it. You’re so attractive, so well-adjusted. You work hard, your daughter is a sunshine in this world, and you’ve not managed to find anyone to love you yet? He thought he was lucky to be the one getting to spend time with you. 

Turns out, you refuse to let anyone in despite Jay knowing, fucking seeing straight through you. You want something from someone. You need it, yearn for it, even. But it’s almost laughable at the way you refuse it. 

Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

It’s the fucking audacity you have taking advantage of him. You’ve practically led him on. You lend him everything he wants in life. That’s it. You lend it. From flaunting yourself before you go to bars, to exposing all the marks you allow other men to leave on you. Letting him stay in this house, father your child, cook, clean, mend, fix, heal. 

From being a faux-father to being minimized to a college student that you used to babysit. He’s offered you relief in so many ways including sexual, and all you fucking do is avoid, deny, fucking reject him. You still go out to bars, later and later you’ll come home with new swells against your skin, but always looking so empty and disappointed. Sometimes he thinks you try to make him jealous. Sometimes, he thinks you want him to try again. 

Sometimes, he thinks you get off on the fact that he keeps trying.

And he has tried. Albeit more gently lately, but he has. Small, lingering touches when he hands you your coat to help you get out the door and to work quicker. Starting your car for you before you leave. Fuck, he even opens the goddamn door for you. Anything to make you feel appreciated, respected, and fucking wanted.

The silence is loud in his ears due to the sheer irritation as he drops his head, staring at his feet and knowing it’ll only take a few strides to reach your bedroom. A room he still craves to be in.

He’s raided those drawers by now, because of course he has. Soiling your panties, your sheets, anything that still smells like you when you’re gone for the day, all so he can act normal upon seeing you when you come home. He’s laid in your bed by now too, wondering what it would feel like to have your weight beside him. He fantasized about anything and everything he possibly could in there.

And he’s always warmer. Always cums the hardest with weak, muffled moans as he stuffs your pillows into his mouth to keep quiet. All before cleaning every trace of himself there, closing the door, and wishing he was allowed to exist in there with you. 

Right now will be the first time Jay enters your room to your knowledge, and it sucks for him because he has essentially trained himself to get hard every time he opens this fucking door. Still, he composes himself, and it’s a bit of a shock if you’re being honest.  You thought he’d go home after this, you were kind of hoping he would after you made it so awkward. 

You felt guilty the second you saw his expression fall to your rejection of eating dinner like a big fucking happy family. You want it so bad, you want him so bad.

When you left the kitchen, you immediately went to your room and hopped in the shower, well aware that he wouldn’t follow you. You thought hard while the hot water made attempts to wash away your feelings. Would it have been so bad to just eat with him? With your daughter? With both of them? The way his eyes fell, it burned your heart a little bit.

Still, no answers came to you because you know part of you just wants to see what else he will do for you. Despite the history with him, and despite knowing his entire family would question and scoff at you for it…Is it really so wrong? To want to give him a chance just to see if he’ll leave you too? 

Just to see if it’ll hurt when he does it too?

Inviting him to your home almost every day of the week isn’t wrong, right? Forgetting to pay him all those times before, hoping to see him again and get that confidence boost, that wasn’t wrong. Letting your daughter attach herself to him when you swore he wasn’t permanent, no longer having the energy to correct her use of “dad” towards him… none of that is wrong.

 It’s all Jay. He’s the one in the wrong for willingly following along, not you. Right? 

And as you’re sitting on your bed in your towel, zoning out and staring at your floor, Jay swings your bedroom door open without a single knock, mindfully closes it, and immediately goes off on you.

Somehow, you really expected him to accept your rejection but your heart swells that he didn’t. You don’t think he ever will, and you’re exhausting yourself hoping he’ll prove you wrong.

He’s shown you enough by now. This is what breaks down that wall inside of you, isn’t it?

“What am I doing wrong?” He shoots his first question out in a desperate whisper shout, eyes searing into you before continuing without a single breath. “Because I do everything for her, and i do everything  for you, does that really make you so fucking uncomfortable?”

“J–” You try to respond, feeling your skin prickle at the sheer irritation in his expression.

He’s fighting for you.

“Isn’t that what you want?!”

“After everything I do–” He throws his hands up now, running his fingers through his hair as if you make him feel like he wants to rip it out. “After trying to make your life easy while making mine harder, for what? You to not eat the fucking food I made? For you to go to the bar all the time just to come back disappointed like I’m not right here waiting for you to come back?” 

“What ar-”

“Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions, Just answer me.” He drops his hands, stepping up to you, placing both hands on either side of your hips, doing his best not to react to your near-naked body. “Why?”

You lean back, trying to create more distance to try and give him an answer that you don’t even know yourself, but he just keeps closing in. Not letting you escape this time. You’ve never seen him so riled up before, it’s…

Well…

“Because I came onto you? Because I tried to do what no one else will do for you?” His voice shakes when he says it, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Is he…about to cry?

Only now, seeing him so close with an entirely sober brain do you realize an answer. Maybe not to his question of why, but to the same question you’ve been asking yourself. It’s because of that look in his eye. You’ve never been able to put a word to it, but now with him demanding you explain yourself so closely, you see it.

He’s desperate. 

Arguably as desperate as you’ve felt to fill the void. Except, he’s trying to do that for you and you won’t let him out of what? Fucking fear? Hell, at this point the history means close to nothing when it comes to all the new memories he’s made in this home, even without you. The history of babysitting him, the history of your ex husband leaving you. It doesn’t matter.

You think hard, so hard that you feel your eyes burn as you stare up at him. Glancing without intention to his jaw when he clenches it, to his neck when he swallows his words, to his lips, his eyes, the hair falling in his face…and you just–

You reach up, running a soothing hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Then you see those same desperate eyes somehow grow more desperate as he lowers them, leaning into the touch, as if you’ve been starving him the same way you’ve been starved for years. He falls silent too, cutting himself off mid-question just to feel you touch him for the first time.

“I don’t know.” You say, which seems like a better answer than having an excuse. What can you say otherwise? That it’s because it shouldn’t  be him? That you’re afraid he’ll realize he’s not ready to settle? To be a dad? He’ll ask why, and it’ll be the same answer you gave on that drunken night. An answer that you no longer care about. 

You babysat him when he was a child, but you were still a child too. 

You were still a child, and time changes things.

Your ex husband left you, and you’re afraid he will too, especially because he’s so much younger? Who cares?

Your answer seems to fly right past his head though, because he’s still leaning to feel your fingers in his hair, and he’s looking at you as if nothing you say will matter unless you make it hold some weight to him. 

“Jongseong–” You pause, scratching right at his nape, uncaring of how you can feel your towel loosening on your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Somehow, his name on your lips is what he needed to hear. The tone of it, the rasp in your voice, your fingers in his hair. Actions speak louder than anything the two of you could say right now, and he can’t help it. Nothing can stop him, not even you at this point. 

He hasn’t done anything wrong you say? It’s because he fucking knows what you need.

You inhale deeply, holding your breath when you feel your back hit your mattress, his warm hands instantly taking advantage of your freshly-showered state and tugging at the towel just slightly to let it fall open. You hear a slight breath from him at that moment, an inhale. There, he climbs onto the bed, nudging himself between your legs and trapping you there under him, both hands holding your arms down.

Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him again.

“You’re going to let me take care of you now.” He demands, though to him it sounds more like a plea solely due to the fact that he’s so fucking turned on it’s unreal. That feeling of when your fingers were in his hair? Seeing your naked body? Unshaved pussy? Being in this fucking room with you? It throws him into overdrive, especially with the way you just lay there blinking up at him in surprise. The anger melting away only amplifies it more. 

How could you do this to him? Genuinely, how could you have let him fucking suffer for you like this? 

Still, you blink up as if you’re a deer caught in headlights and it makes his heart thump against his ribcage. Your eyes are so bright, that glint of sadness he had seen so many times isn’t there right now. And there’s so much adrenaline inside of him, like he needs to move fast before you change your mind again. You’ve not let him do this for some fucking reason or another and now you’re just laying here for him.

 There, with your entire body on display, and you appear to be docile. Fucking obedient? Like he always knew you would be if you’d just drop the fucking act?! You were meant for him and him alone, and he’s going to show you why.

In all honesty, you’re tired of denying yourself by now. From the moment you saw him that day cleaning your pool for the first time, you’ve wanted him on some level. It wasn’t an emotional attachment, but a hope, a fantasy for you. And when you recognized him, you were more impressed with him than embarrassed. You tried not to let your eyes wander out of guilt, out of feeling like a pervert. 

And then, that day when he came onto you, he was just a man to you. Your faux guilt kept you from letting him, and your hope to be chased kept you from it too. As if you’ve never pleasured yourself to the thought of him, shamefully in this very bed. As if you’ve never called out his name with a silent breath. If you keep going at this point, you’ll lose him before ever knowing what he could really be for you. 

This is his last ditch effort to beat you at your own game, and you’re ready to lose.

  So, now, you let yourself get lost in him. In  his eyes and the way he pleads and makes his demands. He probably doesn’t recognize his strength against you right now, or how much it’s turning you on. With the way he has both hands on your wrists, probably bruising them, and there’s nothing you could do even if you wanted to. His weight holding you down feels better than you imagined. 

After so long, with so many failed hookups where you’ve told them of your daughter and all they’ve done in return is get their orgasm then leave…Jay. He wants to take care of you? 

He wants to…give you what you need?

Fuck, you know he can. That’s the fucked up part. He’s proved it so many times to you in so many ways. You’ve watched him, the way he moves and acts around you. He’s exactly what you need. You pushed him to this point, where his sanity is on the brink of crashing. Taking it away from him again feels wrong, because it’s exactly what you want.

And when he presses his leg between yours, he knows.

“Again?” He comments, now releasing your wrist from one hand and running it down, able to slip his fingers right into the slick of your bare pussy. “You’re wet.” 

You still just blink up at him with an intake of breath at the pleasure, thoughts running left and right on what to do, finally realizing you don’t want to do a damn thing. He’d do it all if you let him. Clean your house, be a father, fix all of the breaks, make you wet.

And you just feel him, the way his fingers play around with what he does to you. You can practically feel his confidence rise at the way you spread your legs a bit more, as if to give him more access. When you look at him, his expression remains harsh, but slowly he moves himself down, lips brushing over one of your nipples while keeping eye contact.

Still that irritated look, like he’s mad you haven’t let him do this before now.

“How many times are you going to pretend like I’m not the one who gets you wet?” He asks before rubbing circles around your clit, tongue flicking in the same way around your nipple. “Like I don’t have a right to take care of you?”

Your breath is still caught in your throat, trying to be careful about what you say right now despite knowing you can’t speak. You focus on what he’s doing instead, losing yourself to something you’ve not felt in far, far too long. 

He’s right. He’s gotten you wet more than once by now. More than he knows. 

And goddamn, he knew your tits could bounce, but the way they move without the support of a bra, the plush, soft feeling of your nipple growing erect in his mouth, all for him to bite and pull at. He does it too, listening to the little seething sound of pain from you when he pulls all the way back with your nipple between his teeth. Only to let it fall from his mouth and break eye contact with you to see the jiggle as it falls.

His cock twitches, at everything that you are right now, feeling more pleasure through seeing you like this alone compared to fucking his own fist on your bedroom floor. He notes how your legs squeeze him more at the nipple stimulation than his fingers too, memorizing the way your labia falls open between them. He smirks, flicking his tongue more, quicker. 

There. There it is.

A low rumble in your chest falls from your lips. Soft, a moan. A very small, delicate sound.

“You like this?” Jay asks, looking up at you, letting his tongue fall from his mouth again and flicking the erect nub. “When I play with your tits?”

You nod, throwing an arm over your face in embarrassment that this is actually happening. You’re letting him. Already you feel yourself heat up more, even when he takes his fingers away from your clit and instead, uses them to flick your other nipple. 

And he does this for a few minutes. Paying special attention to your tits, going back and forth with his fingers and tongue to each bud, trying so hard to not stop just to shove his cock between them and use them the way he’s always wanted. He focuses on drawing out more and more little sounds from you instead, slurping his own saliva from your painfully erect nipples, pulling back, blowing cold air, then warming it up again with his lips. All while simultaneously groping, flicking, and pinching with his other hand. 

“Jesus, Jay–” You moan quietly, chest rising and falling as he squeezes and licks against you. 

That’s right, say his name. Let him fucking know he’s doing what you like. Jay thinks, feeling his cock weep in his pants as he does it. Wondering just how sensitive you are to be reacting like this to simple nipple stimulation. God, he’s wanted to suck on these for so long, and now you’re letting him. They’re so big, so plush. He wants to fucking cover them with his mouth, he wants to bury his face in them, kiss them all over them. 

And if they were to get bigger? He moans at the thought, remembering that conversation you had with your mom. You want another. He bets they’d swell up–Oh, fuck yeah. They’d probably hurt to rub against your shirt. God, fuck, he can’t control his thoughts right now.

 Finally. 

Fucking finally, he has you and he’s not going to let you run away again.

He doesn’t fucking care if it’s forward. He wants what he wants, you want what you want. That want just so happens to line up. Besides, he’s already proved himself to you, he knows it. If you’re letting him do this, maybe you’d let him stay like this. 

“Did they get bigger?” He moans briefly as he swaps to your other nipple again. “So full, so heavy, were they leaking all over you?”

You listen to him, trying not to feel the pit in your stomach bubble with even more arousal at his blatant and dirty words, feeling your clit throb at the stimulation your tits are getting right now. 

“Makes my dick fucking throb just thinking about it. Fuck–” 

“Let me give you another,” He mumbles now, almost mindlessly before looking up at you with an intense gaze as he bites down, indicating that he’s not mindless about it at all. 

“Swell you up, make you glow–”

Oh. 

Why is that– why are you dripping?

He hears that moan you let out. Different from the others, almost desperate.

“Mm, yeah.” He encourages it, now allowing his hand to travel back down to witness how much wetter you’ve gotten at those words. So messy, so perfect. “Knew you’d want it raw.”

You can’t help the nod, as it comes before you even process his words solely because you feel his fingers slip inside of you. You haven’t been this wet in so, so long. You want to feel it. To be full again, of anything. Of him.

“Ye-” You start, interrupting yourself with a bite of your lip and your eyes rolling back. 

“That’s right mama,” He coos, tilting his fingers up and amplifying the pressure inside of you. “Gonna let me take good care of this pussy, yeah?” He adds, lifting from your tits and ghosting his lips over yours. 

He watches you closely, that daze in your eye. God, you look so horny right now. There’s nothing more he wants than to see this time and time again. To let you wake up every morning with his warm cum inside of you, to see your belly swell with his child, to see your tits grow until they hurt. 

He’d take care of you. He’d take good fucking care of you. 

“Say something.” Jay whispers against your lips, darting his tongue out against your lips, angling his fingers up and making you moan. “Say you want me to give it to you raw.”

You open your mouth, feeling his tongue lick and swallow up that moan you just gave him before you try to compose yourself. You can’t help it, you’re so, so sensitive right now and you can’t help but find it incredibly sexy to be here, laid bare, while he’s still fully clothed.

Like he really is doing this for you. He’s not trying to get his own orgasm and leave. You’re weak and those words of “let me give you another” shines in your head. Weak, you’re weak. You should be thinking about condoms, you should be thinking about the consequences of this. 

But you’re not. 

You do like it raw.

“Jay–” You stutter as you try to grasp the reality of his words, feeling his fingers repeatedly hit right where you need it. “I’m…not protected.”

He moans. Loudly, before huffing out an irritated groan.

“You must really want it then.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Going out all the time trying to get fucked–” 

He plunges his fingers in again, deep, and holds them there as he pulls back to look at you. To really look at you, then he glares.

“You’d really let just some fucking dude give you a baby?” 

You repeatedly shake your head. 

“No!” You retort, thrusting your hips up. “I just–”

“Mhm,” He pulls his fingers out now, sliding himself down so fast that you can barely comprehend him sucking your clit into his mouth before pulling back in a moan at the taste of you. “If mama wants another, daddy will give her one.” He says now, as if to pacify you.

As if to give you everything. 

And you’d argue, really, you would.  You want another child so bad, but this is– it’s too soon. You haven’t even established a relationship with him yet. Boundaries haven’t been discussed. His college plan– but fuck it’s not entirely your fault that you’re like, super turned on by the idea of it. To the thought of being so filled with cum that there’s no possible way you couldn’t end up pregnant. An indication that, no matter what, no man at a club could fulfill the arousal for you even if they cared to do it. 

You’d never have let them actually fuck you raw. 

Jay though…how can you keep telling him no?

How could you reject him again when you want it so badly? 

Fuck now, think later.

“Yeah–” You say against your better judgement, hands reaching down to his hair so you can grind up against his mouth, lost to the arousal as you mimic what he referred to himself as. “Daddy?”

You feel his mouth fall slack at that, as if you’re accepting him in full now. You feel your clit hit nothing in his open mouth, but it throbs harder. 

 He knew you were slightly into him for letting him do this at all, but now, you’re truly accepting it. Like you know he’ll fucking do it, like you want him to fucking do it.

“That’s right,” He moans against your clit as he licks at it, barely able to comprehend your voice calling him that but clinging to it all the same.  “Gonna let daddy do it all for you.”  

Yeah. You are. You’re gonna let him do it. All of it. 

And then, the room is enveloped in quiet moans, more from Jay than from you due to your breath being stuck in your throat. His tongue, licking every part of your sensitive cunt, his hands reaching back up to your tits, fondling, pinching, painfully tugging at them as he moans louder, louder, louder for you to want him.

He presses his hips up and against your mattress as he tastes you, so deeply it hurts his cock to neglect it like this. Each rub feels raw, twitching and pulsing to be let out, to be inside of you, on you, against you. Filling you up with his cum, plugging it in as a promise that you can’t leave him even if you wanted to. 

He’s going to fucking do exactly what he said he would. 

And only when you feel his tongue lap against your hole do you finally release your breath, “Daddy” coming out in a choked back sob. It breaks him, his body going into overdrive as he pulls back and just– stares at you with wild eyes. 

You stare back up at him, knowing that calling him that means something more than a cringe little roleplay kink. It means something deeper to him. He wants to be a dad, a real one.

“Oh yeah?” He finally says, hands going straight to his button and zipper. 

You can’t help it, biting your lower lip as you blink up, watching his shoulders move, the veins on his arms protruding as he rushes to pull it out and– oh. You moan at it, the way his heavy, slicked up, cock falls out, heavy, needy. 

“Daddy–” You urge him on, knowing that it’s driving him absolutely insane. 

“Mhm?” He shuffles himself off the bed, letting his pants drop as he lifts his shirt off of him and fucking glares at your tits. “You want daddy’s cock?”  He adds now, shooting his eyes up to you as both of his hands land on your legs.

Your mind goes blank when you feel him slide his hands around to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward, curling you in on yourself, forcing your pussy to be out and on display for him. 

And you watch him, the way he stares down at it. It’s embarrassing to be so seen right now, not having expected to get fucked open by anyone tonight, let alone him. You probably should have shaved or something, or like, not gotten out of the habit in the first place. But he moans at it, mouth falling open at the fact that you are entirely a fucking woman. 

A fucking mother.

The prettiest pussy he’s ever fucking seen let alone tasted.

And he moans, breaking the silence, forgetting only for a moment how long he’s been wanting this. It boosts your confidence more than you’ve ever felt. His reaction to this is more than your ex husband’s reaction to you when you were pristine and borderline pornstar quality. 

Jay doesn’t see you as used and neglected, he just sees you. And this. This is the pussy he wants. This is what he wants to put his baby in. 

When he flicks his eyes back to you, with that same open mouthed expression, it knocks the breath out of you. There’s so much love in his eyes, or maybe lust, you don’t care. You think you’re matching that expression for him too, because it’s like he can’t hold back anymore. He can’t just sit and look at you anymore. 

He just can’t.

And you feel it, his thick head pushing past the tightened, pulsing hole and not stopping. He pushes in slowly, painfully slow, to the point you’re both looking at each other with a slack jaw. Finally. The pain of it, the pleasure, the fucking need you’ve been trying to fulfill. 

That look on your face drives him wild too, he knows he has you by now. You like it, you love the way he slides in and makes damn sure you feel it the way he does. Every second of the slide pries you open, and he wants to remember this moment forever. He wants you to fucking remember too. 

Wants you to know that no one will ever fit inside of you so perfectly, so deeply.

When he finally bottoms out, he leans forward to keep himself buried deep as he ghosts his lips over yours. He feels the way you try to kiss him, but he pulls back with a confident smirk. 

“When was the last time you’ve felt a cock so deep in you?” He whispers hotly, knowing you need not answer. Knowing you won’t answer, not with the way you’re instantly lifting your head and kissing him. 

Your pussy pulses around him when you lick into his mouth, the first real kiss sending his heart soaring. He twitches inside of you with each squeeze, and kisses you harder, deeper. And somehow, it brings tears to your eyes. 

The way he kisses, the way he makes you feel him. Fuck, the way he makes you feel whole, so wanted, like you’re amazing to him. In more ways than just a body to fuck, but he’s stuck around despite all of your avoidance and rejections. You hope you’re making it worth it. 

Fuck, you need to feel worth it to him.

“You’d better not fucking pull out.” You groan through a breath, his lips still kissing you through your words as he finally pulls his hips back, fucking in once. 

Hard.

Honestly, could you have said anything else at this moment? He’s trying to make this last, he needs it to last. If you keep fucking talking, saying everything he’s ever wanted to hear– 

“Fuck,”  He moans, his hands moving up to your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. “You can’t–”  He continues, fucking in again, moving your body up with each thrust do to the sheer force of him trying to plunge in as deep as he can. “You can’t fucking say that to me right now.”

You’re seeing stars though, unable to say anything else as your eyes roll back at the way the head of his cock practically kisses your cervix with each push into you. He’s so rough, so desperate for it. 

You don’t think he expected you to respond either, with the way he keeps his lips on yours, his body pressed so closely that having your legs to your chest means nothing to him now. Mating press be damned, he’s lost his mind to the feeling, not the aesthetic of being a fucking dad. 

Your legs wrap around him instead, and he’s all to happy to feel it. Your legs hug him the same way your arms do, the same way your pussy does, and he’s fucking in love with you. 

He braces one hand back against your leg, holding it against his hips as he continues to fuck forward, still at the same pace. Deep and with purpose. Every few seconds the bursts of pleasure run through him, making him shiver and moan into your mouth. Little grunts, near whimpers for you to let him give you the world. 

More than this. More than fucking, more than taking care of you, more than anything he could ever possibly give you. He’ll find a way. 

And then, you’re clenching hard, matching his near-whimpers except moaning in full pants, babbling and drooling cries against his mouth. 

“Mama–” Jay soothes, continuing his pace as he tilts his head back to get a good look at that lost gaze in your eyes. “You’re crying?”

You nod with a laugh, tears rolling down the same way the wet of your cunt slips down your ass. You’ve never felt so good, so fucking full.  And for some reason, that does him in. Making it last be damned, he genuinely thinks he’s won you over. He can make it last next time, he can do more next time, he can–

He leans back all the way now, onto his knees as your legs try to hug him back to you, and his eyes go straight back to those tits. The way he made a promise. The way they bounce, slick with his sweat from pressing against you. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He grunts in a breath, now quickening his pace and snapping his hips. Pulling out all the way briefly to plunge into your again. “Can’t get any deeper–” He continues, flicking his eyes from your face, to your tits, to that beautiful pussy of yours swallowing him up. 

Now his eyes roll back, hands going back to your thighs to push you back into position. No way in hell can he last, not at a pace like this, inside of a woman like you. 

“Don’t pull out.” You repeat again in a breath, seeing his face and the way he focuses solely on you. You know he’s going to cum, and you want him to. You want to feel it, every single fucking drop of it. 

“Yeah?” He nods his head with laser-focus on your pussy now, staring down as he points tight, short thrusts inside of you. “Momma wants my cum? Hm?”

Oh, he’s fucking gone.

“She likes it?” He continues to talk himself up. “Likes being so fucking full of it? Yeah?” 

Goddamn, fuck, he’s insane. 

“Yes, daddy!” You whisper-shout, fingers shooting to your clit, other hand raising to your mouth to silence the moans as to not be too loud. 

“Fuck, yeah you do.”  He lets out a near growl, his voice low and rumbled as he slaps your hand away, pressing hard on your clit with his thumb as he buries himself in you once more and stiffening his abs. “That’s right.”

And instantly upon feeling him pulse, that first spurt of cum painting your insides, you lose yourself with him. Your fingers drop from your mouth and you release a pornographic moan for him, rutting yourself against him, as if to fuck it deeper into you. 

It only prolongs the orgasm though, for both of you. 

Jay is silent, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure as you pulse and squirt around him, his thumb pressing so hard  into your clit, his cock cumming so deep, filling you up so well– He wants to see it. Wants to watch you fall apart for him. Wants to witness the way you let him do this. 

And he holds himself there, so hard and so full of pleasure for you. Keeping himself practically impaled against your cervix until your body falls slack. Still, he fucks it into you, holding you in place with a softer moan now. No longer guttural or deep from his chest. His breathing is rough, a soft, near feminine moan leaves his lips as he falls forward onto you. 

You wince along with him at the sensitivity, panting, a sweating tangle of a mess the two of you have become. And it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever gotten off at the same time as someone else. You feel…soft. 

Your hands find their way to his hair as his face squished against your tits while he regains breath, not daring to move his hips because your pussy is too warm to leave right now. You brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, running your fingers all the way back to his nap, and then slowly down his back to rub and scratch.

He shivers at the feeling, humming the same feminine-tone he had released previously. And all he can do is hear your heart thumping against your chest, even through these soft tits of a pillow he’s lying against.

Jay never wants to move again, not from this spot, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Jay mentions briefly after a long moment of silence, looking up at you with his wet hair. 

Deep in the night, your food still cold and on the table, you’ve found yourself freshly showered and on your living room couch with Jay’s head on your lap. He made sure to have stayed long enough inside of you to implant…something if it was going to happen. So he didn’t argue a shower, and you didn’t argue letting him join you either. 

He had washed you, gently running his hands between your legs with what you can only describe as the softest, most alluring face a man has ever given you. Like he won the lottery, or found the answer to eternal life or something. You repaid him by letting him admire your tits again while you jerked him off, but that’s besides the point. 

“Like, I’m not going to leave. I hope you know that.” He adds with a soft groan to your hands still in his hair. His new favorite thing. 

You look down at him, hand moving to his cheek as the words hit you in the chest.

There’s anxiety along with happiness, at all of the boundaries and serious conversations that will need to be had now, but still, you feel like you’re glowing when he looks at you.

He didn’t even have to say it, and arguably you probably don’t need to say it back either. You think he sees it in you. Even if he didn’t, you think he’d take anything you give to him and cling to it. After all, it only took one time for you to break entirely for him. 

“Are you now?” You smile with a chuckle, looking back to the tv and pretending to watch it. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d be making you go get a plan B or something.” 

His eyes narrow at you.

“Like hell I’d let you, even if I didn’t love you.” He groans. “But I do, so don’t ever say that shit again.”

You chuckle, feeling the calm in your home that once felt so chaotic. It’s quiet now, both inside and outside of your head. 

“Congratulations, by the way.”

He looks at you with question, quirking a brow.

“For finishing your finals, I mean.” You smile, going back to petting through his hair and feeling like you’re on top of the world, despite what you assume to become half of your world lying his head on top of you. 

“Oh, right.” He smiles, now turning his head to watch the tv. “I probably failed them.”

You don’t believe that, but even if he did, you think you could be what he needs too. He wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t want to.

If he’s really in love with you, all he’d have to do is…not leave. 

“Are you sure you want to be having these conversations with me? You can just call it a hook-up.” You finally say, hoping he means it, knowing it breaks your heart a bit to give him an out. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to trap you here just because I’m a little smitten too.” 

Jay glares, blinking up at you.

“I literally just tried to put a baby in you.” 

That’s fair. 

“And you’re not going to run off? Get cold feet?” 

“Can you stop doubting me and just let me do what I want for once?” He argues playfully. “Do you even know how much that barbie fucking dream house costed me? I couldn’t run even if, for some stupid ass reason, wanted to. I love her too.”

Silence for a moment.

“Maybe even more than I love you.” 

You really, really, want to believe him.

Your eyes flutter open slowly and the moment they do, a stabbing pain splits through your skull, sending your senses reeling. The world around you feels heavy, like a storm just crashed through your body and jumbled your insides. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel a strange, warm trickling sensation on your face.

Instinctively, you lift a trembling hand to your forehead, fingers brushing against a slick wetness and the coppery tang of blood hangs in the air. When you pull your hand away, the sight of thick crimson streaks running across your palm makes your stomach churn, but you feel the need to explore the source, touching the tender gash on your scalp.

“Help! We’re trapped in here!” A girl’s voice, high-pitched and filled with terror and desperation rings through the chaos. Her words stab through your clouded mind, pushing you to focus and look beyond the pain.

You force yourself to take in your surroundings. The floor beneath you is cold, hard concrete that chills your skin through your clothes. The room is wide, but the walls stretch up tall, covered in grimy, cracked tiles. Red stains mar the surfaces, some splattered haphazardly across the tiles, others pooled and dried in dark streaks. It's everywhere, like the aftermath of something disastrous.

Your gaze lifts, drawn upwards towards the ceiling. Industrial scaffolding crisscrosses high above, its rusted metal beams looming. The sight sparks a flicker of recognition - a warehouse? A factory? The place feels abandoned, yet recent, like it’s still haunted by the last horror that just unfolded.

The girl’s voice echoes again, frantic, tearing your thoughts back to the present.

Blinking hard, you try to clear the dizziness that still lingers, your breath shaky as you sit up, the pounding in your head dulls a little, but the fear remains. 

Five people, including you, are in the room, all coming to grips with the nightmare you’ve all woken up in. Each person reacts differently, the tension thickening with every breath and realisation of the surroundings.

To your right, there’s a boy who looks barely out of his teens, maybe 20, 21. His blonde hair is tousled, layers falling over a set of delicate, pretty features. His dark eyes are wide as he tries to make sense of it all but failing to grasp the reality of the situation. He wears a bright, eye-catching fit - a pink hoodie with characters on it…Sanrio maybe? It’s hard to tell from the glaze in your eye. But either way, he looks so out of place against the grim backdrop. His hands are shaking slightly as they rest on his knees, his innocence clashing with the horror around him.

Opposite him stands another man, older by a few years, maybe mid-twenties, with a hardened expression that tells a different story. His dark eyes are calculating, his face carved with indifference, a nonchalant coldness to his posture. He’s dressed simply in a faded black shirt and worn jeans, but there’s something sharp about him, as though he’s accustomed to violence or pain. Unlike the boy, this man seems almost detached, unaffected by it all. 

Weird…

On the far side of the room is the girl who brought you to attention, pulling you from your unconscious state. She’s banging on the large metal door, her fists bruised and bloodied from her frantic efforts. Her voice trembles as she yells, but now she turns around, her brown eyes wide with fear. Her long, tangled hair hangs around her face, and she’s covered in dirt and what looks like splashes of dried blood on her clothes - a simple white shirt and jeans that are torn at the knees.

One more boy sits close to you, clearly still feeling the effects of whatever beating he endured. His head is placed firmly in his hands as he tries to bring himself around. From what you can see, he’s around ages with you, youthful and pretty, with a sharp jawline and pretty lips. His clothes are ripped, probably struggling with whoever put him here.

The fifth person is you, but the growing dread makes you feel distant from your own body. You clear your throat, the air dry and sharp, your voice hoarse as it escapes. "W-what’s going on?" you ask, timidly, the words coming out cracked and raspy.

“We’re in a death box by the looks of it,” the older man says, his voice calm. 

“What do you mean?” The colourful boy asks, his voice shaky, eyes darting around the room, looking for answers. He’s so desperate he looks to the older man hoping for an explanation or reassurance, but there’s none to be found in those dark eyes.

“I mean, look around,” the man continues, standing slowly, unfolding his tall frame. “There’s blood and piss everywhere. You can literally still smell death in the room.” He says it without flinching, his eyes scanning the bloodstained walls with no reaction, like the gore is no more unsettling than a stain he can easily get out with some Vanish.

“And how would you know what death smells like, huh?” the girl snaps, spinning away from the door with her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She’s still trembling, but now her fear has turned into a raging accusation, her fists clenched at her sides. “Are you the one that put us here?”

The bright boy, caught between the man’s cold indifference and the girl’s rising panic, shifts uncomfortably, his bright eyes flickering from one person to the next. You can feel his uncertainty, his confusion, and deep down, you share it.

The man, however, remains unbothered. He stares at the girl with a bored expression, clearly not agreeing with her that the accusation requires a response. There’s not a lot to read on his face; you can’t work out if the girl has clocked him perfectly or if she’s clutching at straws to find reasoning.

"Answer me!" she demands, her voice trembling with fury. "Are you the one that did this to us?"

“You think I put us all in here?” he replies, his tone dripping with disinterest, the accusation itself beneath him. “If I had, do you really think I’d be stuck in this shithole, bruised and battered, and having to deal with you?”

The girl bristles, taking another step towards him, a vein slowly making its presence known on her forehead. "You’re too calm-"

"And you're too loud," he cuts her off and his voice is sharp now, clearly over her dramatics. "Screaming at me isn’t going to open that fucking door."

Tension rises, the air thick with suspicion and apprehension. The boy with the blonde hair flinches at the harshness in the older man, not accustomed to raised voices. "Stop it," he pleads, his voice soft, wavering, oh so gentle. "We shouldn’t fight. We need to figure out what’s happening..."

"Figure out what?" the girl snaps, turning her frustration toward him. "We’re trapped in here like animals!"

Before anyone else can respond, a low mechanical hum interrupts the argument. You glance around, searching for the source, and then, without warning, the tile wall opposite you flickers to life. Everyone falls silent, the room filling with the eerie glow of the screen.

The image shows a boy in his early twenties standing before the camera. His face is smooth and untroubled, with dark brown hair, thick-rimmed glasses that frame his face perfectly, and a pretty nose to match. There’s no mask, no attempt to hide his identity, and his eyes twinkle with an unsettling glee, a bright grin stretching across his lips, completely at odds with the horror of the room. 

"Hi!" he chirps, waving at the camera. “You’re probably a little confused, but you shouldn’t be. You all asked to be here." His voice is light and playful. To be fair, it matches his features, but you already know that what he presents isn’t the case.

"Asked to be here?" the younger boy mutters in an innocent pout, resembling a cute penguin.

The boy on the screen just continues smiling, oblivious or indifferent to the growing dread in your hearts. "Dayoung, Jaehyun, Sunoo, Heeseung and Y/N," he says, rattling off your names like he’s reading from a class roll, and he lets each name hang in the air for a moment, allowing you all to figure out who is who by the reactions. "You all answered my ad, y’know, the ones on the dark web?"

The blonde boy - Sunoo - gasps softly, his eyes wide with sudden recognition. The others exchange uneasy glances, knowing they can’t deny his claims. The older man  - Jaehyun - folds his arms and glares at the screen with narrowed eyes, his expression hard and calculating.

"You all wanted me to save you, to help you out," the boy on the screen continues, waving his hand around as though explaining something trivial, like when you have to explain a new TikTok trend or why Tesco is the best supermarket in the UK. "Or rather…to help me out."

Dayoung - you presume, being the only other girl in the room - asks, her voice low and filled with bitterness. "What the hell is he talking about?"

Your kidnapper leans in closer to the camera, his grin never faltering. “I asked for a helper. Someone who wouldn’t mind getting their hands dirty. And you guys were the most promising ones who responded.”

Your stomach drops as the full meaning of his words begins to settle. This isn’t a random abduction. You willingly put yourself here.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the boy chuckles softly. “You’re thinking, ‘What did I get myself into?’ Well, let me tell you - you’re in for some fun.” The animation in his body is cartoon-like, soft and playful. He’s finding pure, unfiltered joy in whatever this is, and you don’t know whether he is reading the room wrong or simply fucking psychotic.

"No...I didn’t...I never agreed to this..." Sunoo mutters, his voice shaking.

On the other hand, Dayoung is shaking with anger once again, her face turning red. "This is a sick joke!"

But the boy on the screen doesn’t seem to care about the protests. He continues on, breezily. “You see...I have a bit of a hobby.” His grin widens, and there’s a disturbing glint in his eyes. “I like to murder people. But recently, it’s been getting...a little overwhelming. Too many bodies, too much cleanup. My hands can only do so much, y’know?” He sighs in inconvenience, clearly all the murdering is taking its toll on the boy.

The brooding older man’s jaw tightens, his eyes dark as the boy continues his twisted monologue - you can’t help but eye the man suspiciously, suddenly curious as to why he is here. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s fun and all,” the boy says with a shrug, “but even I can’t do it all by myself. So I figured - why not get some help? That’s where you come in.” He gestures toward the camera, shooting comical finger guns at you all, but absolutely nothing is funny.

“No…no, this isn’t happening,” Dayoung steps back defiantly, her body subconsciously seeking space from the boy despite his absence in the room. You can tell that she never in a million years thought that this was what she was offering help for. 

In her case, all she wanted was some cash, a new job and get out of her small town. Someone suggested that the dark web is where all the highest-paying jobs are, they aren’t pretty jobs, but they are jobs. She just never expected this to happen; call it naivety. Could she clean up the blood and ask no questions? For sure. Can she help a murderer commit the crimes? Not so sure.

The murderer on the screen lets out a soft laugh, mocking. “Oh, but it is. You all wanted an escape, right? A way out of whatever hell your life was? Well, this is it. I’m giving you a purpose. A new path. You’re here to help me with my work.”

The room is dead silent now, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone. The realisation hits everyone at once: you didn’t stumble into this nightmare. You walked right into it. 

The boy claps his hands together, his grin acting as his most prominent feature, looking like he is about to unlease the punchline to a joke only he finds funny. And to be fair, he is. “Alright, now that we’re all caught up - let’s talk about what happens next.”

You can feel the weight of his words crushing you like a lead blanket. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest, each thud reverberating in your ears as frisson slowly wraps its icy fingers around your throat. The others are still frozen, processing the horrifying reality of the situation. You can see it in their eyes - the slow dawning of horror.

Jaehyun is still standing stoically in the corner, his cold facade cracking ever so slightly. His dark eyes flicker toward the others, calculating, assessing. 

Sunoo, is shaking, his face drained of colour. He’s clutching his knees, eyes wide, breath coming in shallow gasps. He looks so young, so fragile; he’s barely holding it together.

Dayoung’s lips tremble, but her eyes burn with an inner fire, a desperation to escape this madness, to fight her way out if she has to. But there’s a fear in her, too - a deep, raw terror that seeps into the edges of her defiance.

The boy next to you, Heeseung, just has his head down, not looking up to even peep at what his new potential boss could look like. He’s quiet, distant, and not mentally in the room with you all even if he is physically. 

“I know, I know,” the kidnapper says, as if reading your thoughts. “You’re thinking, ‘This can’t be real, right? There’s no way this psycho actually expects us to help him.’” He chuckles, a soft, almost boyish sound, but there’s an edge of malice behind it. You wonder how many victims heard that laugh as the last noise before they were brutally murdered. “But here’s the thing - it’s very real. And I’m about to give you the chance of a lifetime.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes, his arms crossed, watching the boy on the screen with a calculating expression. “What kind of chance?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

The boy’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Glad you asked!” He stands up straighter, chest protruding proudly. “See, you’re all here because you needed a way out of your pathetic lives. Don’t try to deny it - you wouldn’t have answered my ad if you didn’t. Each of you has your own personal hell, something that you want to escape or gain. And that’s what I’m offering you - a way out. A new life.”

You swallow hard, the room feeling smaller, the air tighter. His words stir something in you, a dark truth you don’t want to acknowledge. You were desperate, looking for something…that much is true.

“But,” the boy continues, his voice dropping to a soft, almost conspiratorial whisper, “I don’t just let anyone into my little...operation. No, no. You have to earn your place.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, a heavy tension filling the space. No one speaks, the silence punctuated only by the sound of your racing hearts and the quiet hum of the projection.

“So here’s how it works,” the boy says, pacing in front of the camera, gesturing animatedly with his hands. “There are a series of tests in place. You can take a turn each, I don’t care what order, that’s up to you guys. You just need to survive. Survive the test, and you win. Fail, and…” he whistles, letting your imaginations run with conclusions of your own, his smile turning into something darker. “Well, you don’t want to fail.”

Dayoung steps forward, her face twisted in disbelief. “You want us to play some sick game for you? Is that it?” Her voice trembles, the earlier bravado she showcased cracking under the weight of the horror she’s facing. And who can blame her?

The boy tilts his head, a patronising expression plastered on his face. “It’s not a game,” he says softly, almost sweetly. “It’s a job interview. If you pass, you get to work for me. You get to leave behind whatever miserable life you were living before. Isn’t that what you want?”

Sunoo shakes his head, his voice weak, barely a whisper. “I didn’t want this...I didn’t know...”

“Oh, but you did know, Sunoo. You knew something dark was waiting on the other side of that ad. But you still clicked, didn’t you?” His tone is mocking, almost sing-song. “You all did. If you guys wanted a normal job, you would have gone on Indeed, not the dark web.”

No one moves, no one breathes. It’s hard to grasp that the lunatic is actually right, and it’s the bitterest pill to swallow.

“This is insane,” Dayoung whispers in disbelief. Sunoo’s wide eyes fill with tears, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Heeseung, a quiet figure at the back of the room until now, looks away, his face pale, as if retreating inward, trying to block out the horror unfolding around him. Jaehyun stands still, his eyes narrowing as though calculating his next move. But even he, with his calm facade, looks shaken.

The boy on the screen throws his head back and laughs, the sound bright and carefree yet insanely manic. It echoes unnervingly in the cold, bloodstained room, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. His smile stretches wider, his eyes twinkling with that same psychotic glee.

"Don’t look so dramatic about it!" he says, waving a dismissive hand at the camera. "It’s fun, I promise." No one dares speak, as if the wrong word will trigger whatever madness this boy has planned for you. The boy in the video sighs. "Now, I would get out of your scared little minds and focus if I were you. Seriously, you’re all acting like this is the worst thing in the world." He tilts his head, his smile softening, though it’s far from comforting. "It’s not. I’m giving you a chance. This could be the best thing that ever happens to you."

He pauses, letting the eerie silence settle in. You can hear the sound of your own shallow breaths, the frantic beat of your heart pounding in your ears. His feigned innocent smile never falters even within the quiet. 

Dayoung steps forward, her voice filled with fury. “You’re insane. We never wanted this!” One thing you’re learning about Dayoung in this predicament; she’s loud and unabashedly, stupidly brave

The boy just chuckles again, his laugh light and almost boyish, which only makes it more unnerving. "Oh, you’ll see soon enough how much you’ll want this. But if I were you, I’d stop worrying so much about me and focus on yourselves."

The air feels heavier now, as though the walls themselves are caving inward. You feel a growing…’something’ in your gut, a sinking realisation that this isn’t just a game. This is a dream you might not wake from. 

Clapping his hands together again, your captor startles you from your thoughts. “Now, let’s get to the fun part!” His energy is high, you can see how his face is lit up with glee, a clear juxtaposition to the rest of you. "The first test is coming up."

Your blood runs cold. "Test?" you murmur under your breath, feeling the weight of the word crash over you like a tidal wave.

The boy’s smile widens as he sees your reaction. “That’s right. The first of many. But don’t worry! Like I said, it’s fun. Just think of it as...an initiation. Survive this, and you’re one step closer to working with me. One step closer to getting out of this room, out of whatever sad little life you were living before.”

Jaehyun’s fists clench at his sides, his knuckles white as the pretty murderer’s words strike a nerve in his chest, but his face remains a mask of control. "What’s the test?" he asks through gritted teeth.

 “You’ll find out soon enough.” His eyes gleam with twisted excitement. "I’m Jaeyun by the way. It’s nice to properly meet you all! Good luck with the interview; I’m rooting for you to survive.”

The video flickers and shuts off, the tiled wall goes back to a blank surface and the humming of the projector stops, leaving behind only the sound of your ragged breathing, the quiet gasps of terror from the others.

The shock of Jaeyun’s words hangs in the air, thick and oppressive. Sunoo lets out a shaky sob, covering his face with his hands, his body trembling. Dayoung is pacing now, her eyes darting toward the door, fists still clenched as if ready to punch her way out.

Jaehyun steps forward, his expression hard, a calculating look in his eyes. “He’s playing with us,” he mutters, his voice low but filled with barely restrained fury. “We need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?” Dayoung snaps, her voice breaking. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”

No one has an answer. The silence stretches until you feel like the room is turning into that one hallway in willy wonka. Your heart pounds, fear gnawing at the edges of your sanity. The test is coming. The only question is, will you survive?

_____

Not one of you has uttered a word in the past 30 minutes, each brain focusing on its own fears. The room has fallen into a suffocating silence, the only sound breaking through is Sunoo's quiet, shaky sobs. His soft cries echo in the dim space, bouncing off the walls, making the stillness feel even more unbearable. His breath hitches every now and then, little gasps of panic, his shoulders quivering as he tried, and failed, to keep it together. His bright hoodie, once a symbol of his sunny disposition, now seems like a cruel joke, a beacon of misplaced hope in the grim reality.

You make your way over to him, the concrete floor cold beneath your feet giving you a subtle chill biting at your skin. Kneeling down beside him, you gently place a hand on his back, feeling the tremor of fear that possesses his body. You have no words to offer; nothing you could say would fix this. Instead,you flash him a small, strained smile, trying to convey comfort, even if you don’t believe it yourself. 

With your thumb, you gently wipe away the tears collecting under his eyes but the action feels hollow, not filled with the intent you need it to. You know it won’t stop his panic, but in a place as shit as this, sometimes just knowing someone’s there is enough.

Sunoo sniffles, looking up at you with wide, terrified eyes. His lips quiver, but he manages a weak nod, the faintest flicker of relief crossing his face. All he needs to feel like he isn’t alone in this hell.

Meanwhile, Heeseung is finally up, pacing the room. His eyes dart around, taking in every corner, every inch of the walls, looking for something, anything, that might be an escape. His movements are stiff, purposeful, his mind clearly racing. 

He didn’t think this was real when he applied. He’s navigated the dark web more times than he could count, seen the fake ads, the scams. Every twisted job post was always a hoax, a trap set by someone looking to get a rise out of thrill-seekers. But this…This wasn’t some elaborate prank. This was real. And as much as he tries to keep a cool head, he isn’t truly prepared for any of this. Who actually would be?

Suddenly, a loud metallic creak cuts through the silence, making everyone flinch. You all turn as a hatch in the wall slowly slides open, the rusted metal scraping against the frame causing the irritating grating in your ears. A cardboard box is thrown through the abyss, it’s small but deliberate, a grotesque gift dropped at your feet. You’ve always liked presents, this one…maybe not so much.

Jaehyun steps forward first, his movements deliberate yet measured, his eyes narrowing as he approaches the suspicious box. With unnerved hands, he opens it despite Dayoung’s cries to leave it alone. Once he rips the flaps open, his face flashes with confusion. 

“It’s a collar,” he informs, his voice carrying no emotion as he peers inside, leaning over just enough to pull the object out.

“Like a dog collar?” Dayoung asks tentatively. Her earlier fear has settled into cautious curiosity.

“More like a Battle Royale collar,” you say quietly, stepping up beside Jaehyun. The moment you see it in his hand, your stomach leaps. The worn leather strap is attached to a thick, cold-looking metal device with intricate wiring running along the surface. A faint red light flickers within the contraption. The collar isn’t for show and certainly won't appear on the next Prada F/W season - it’s much more dangerous than a fashion statement.

Your mind races back to all the horror movies you’ve devoured over the years - Saw, Hostel, Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Even the obscure British slashers which somehow found purchase on Amazon Prime that for some reason feature Danielle Scott. You remember the collar from the Japanese cult classic - the way it sat ominously around the necks of the students, a grim countdown ticking away until their last moments. The sight of it here, in Jaehyun’s hands, sends a shiver down your spine, making the hairs on your arms stand on end, a thrill encroached in your blood.

Sunoo inches closer behind you, his footsteps tentative and quiet, afraid to make a sound. His wide, innocent eyes are filled with disbelief, his lips quivering as he stares at the collar in Jaehyun’s hand. He never planned on this being his fate. His new uni friends had dared him to answer an ad which screamed dodgy, saying he lived too cautiously, that he was too safe, too nice. They had called him boring, the good boy, the one who never stepped out of line. They wanted to see if he could do something reckless for once. So he clicked on the ad. This all started as a stupid fucking dare but now, standing here, he’s regretting every second of that decision.

Jaehyun pulls a small card from the box that had been hidden under the leather. His face hardens as he reads it aloud. “For your first task, one of you should put on the collar and sit in the iron chair at the back of the room. Strap yourselves in! It’s quiz night.” He tosses the card to the floor, his lips curling into a sneer and voice losing edge as annoyance seeps in.

The rest of you follow his gaze toward the back of the room, where a chair stands alone, bathed in the bask of an overhead light. It’s hidden in plain sight, none of you registering its existence or importance until this exact moment, which is crazy considering it’s completely unmissable. As you get closer, the details of the chair come into view. The seat is worn, darkened with age, and thick leather straps hang from the armrests, ready to bind whoever sits there. The straps are cracked and rough, but still functional, their purpose and past crimes clear. But it’s the strange contraption beside the chair that sends a wave of nausea through the room.

A twisted metal device sits on a pedestal to the left of the chair, resembling a skeletal hand. Each finger is a cold, metallic clamp, poised to cause irreversible damage. You’ve seen something like it before, it’s a trap. The kind that springs back when triggered, bending fingers until they break. You swallow hard, anticipation rising in your throat as your mind conjures up the image of bone splintering and flesh tearing.

Suddenly, a deafening screech fills the room, the sound of a tannoy system coming to life. The static drone crackles for a moment before a throat is cleared, and Jaeyun’s voice, upbeat and casual, cuts through the tension like a knife.

“Welcome to your first task, which I’ve cleverly named Quiz and Snap! A little fun game to get all your brains and bones working.” 

“I hope his quizzing is better than his naming,” Jaehyun snorts, his face set in a grimace.

“I heard that!” Jaeyun’s voice whines through the speakers, an exaggerated pout in his tone. “Anyway, you’ll love this one. For this task, I need one brave volunteer to sit in my lovely antique chair, strap in, and place your hand in that cute little metal skeleton hand over there. See it?”

All eyes are on the device now, the sight of it sending a fresh wave of chills down your spine. There’s something wrong about it - something viscerally terrifying.

Jaeyun’s voice drops, the grin in his tone so palpable it makes your skin pop with goosebumps.“Once you’re all strapped in, I’ll start the quiz. Just five questions. Nothing too hard. Mostly about cleaning up blood, disposing of bodies...you know, simple stuff related to the job you’ve applied for. Easy, right?” 

The way he says simple implies it will be anything but.

“What’s the catch?” Dayoung’s voice cuts through, her earlier anxiety now giving way to an edge of scepticism. “Why the hand thingy?”

“Inquisitive! Extra points for you!” Jaeyun giggles through the speaker, and you catch the faintest flicker of pride on Dayoung’s face despite the situation. You need to watch out for that. “Well, if you get a question wrong,” Jaeyun continues, his voice gleeful, “a little spring will snap, and…well, then so will your finger! It’ll bend it back and back and back until - pop - off it goes! So I wouldn’t make a habit of getting answers wrong.”

His grin is so clear in his voice that you can almost see it, hanging in the air like a sickly, invisible presence. You can feel it wrapping around you, tightening its grip on your chest.

Jaehyun lifts the collar, turning it in his hands, his expression a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. “And what’s the collar for?” His voice is steady, but you can sense the tension coiling behind his nonchalance.

“Oh, just a little accessory! Something to complete the look. Nothing to worry about, really. What you should be worrying about is which one of you is brave enough to try and pass my first test. And, of course, be in with a chance to become my sidekick. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

Jaehyun’s eyes narrow, and before he can respond, you find yourself speaking, your voice softer than you intended. “What if...none of us want to do it?” It’s the first time you’ve spoken directly to Jaeyun, and the moment the words leave your lips, a prickly chill runs down your spine.

There’s a beat of silence, followed by a laugh from Jaeyun. “Well, pretty lady,” he says, his tone taking on a flirtatious but mocking tone, “I don’t think you want to know the answer to that question. But let’s just say, if none of you want to play, you’ll all be sleeping for a very, very long time...”

The threat is suffocating and the atmosphere shifts. The panic that had lay just upon the ocean bed of the situation now feels like a tidal wave, crashing over everyone. The room is thick with unspoken terror, a collective paralysis. Of course, being kidnapped and forced to attend an ‘interview’ doesn’t set everyone with great faith, but hearing that your life could end so blasé-like is what really sets the haunting tone in the space.

Sunoo’s sobs have quieted, but his wide, tear-streaked face looks between each of you, desperate for someone to step up and make this nightmare end. Dayoung’s hands twist nervously at the hem of her shirt, her earlier confidence giving way to hesitation. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but no words come out, only a sharp, shaky breath. Even Jaehyun, who had been so calm and composed, is frozen, his eyes darting between the chair and the collar still clutched in his hand.

Heeseung’s jaw is clenched, his fists balled tightly at his sides. He’s scanning the room again, probably still searching for an escape, but even he knows deep down that there’s no way out of this - not without playing Jaeyun’s twisted game.

You can almost feel the dread sinking in, seeping into your bones. The low hum of fear vibrates in the air, like a pressure building, ready to snap - no pun intended. No one moves. No one wants to be the first. The weight of the decision is suffocating, and you can see it in everyone’s faces - the growing realisation that if no one steps forward, the fate Jaeyun promised is waiting for you all.

“I’ll give you all two minutes to decide,” Jaeyun’s voice suddenly crackles through the speaker again, almost jovial, relishing in the tension. “But if none of you are in that seat when I come back...well…night-night.” He draws out the words, taunting, the sickly-sweet edge to his voice making your skin blister in unease.

The seconds tick by in oppressive silence. Everyone exchanges glances, the fear fairly obvious in the small, cramped space. No one wants to die, but no one wants to be the first to volunteer either. The weight of Jaeyun’s threat makes it insanely hard to breathe. It feels like the room itself is watching, waiting, pressing down on all of you, daring someone to make a move.

But who?

“Look, I-I can’t do it,” she says, her hands wringing together. Her face is like a ghost, her eyes wide and pleading as she looks around at each of you. “I’m not…I’m not strong enough for this. I barely made it through high school biology without fainting. The second that thing snaps, I’ll probably pass out, I’ll never make it.”

Her words filter through your ears but you find it hard to register them or find sympathy. Aren’t most people squeamish with blood? Hardly a solid excuse out of this.

Then again, do you have one better other than the fact that you simply don’t want to?

“I don’t think I can do it either…” Sunoo whispers, his voice trembling. “I-I’m not brave like the rest of you. I shouldn’t even be here. This was all a stupid dare - my friends, they…they told me to apply as a joke. They said I live too safely, that I never take risks. But this? This isn’t what I signed up for. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing…”

His hands tremble, his fingers twitching nervously as he shifts on his feet. Even the thought of being strapped into that chair terrifies him beyond words. His usual sunny demeanour is completely shattered, replaced with raw panic.

Jaehyun snorts, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, none of us want to do it, kid. But the fact is, we don’t have much of a choice, do we?” His voice is sharp, but there’s a tinge of bitterness in it. He exhales, running a hand through his hair before looking at the rest of you. “Look, I’m not putting myself in that chair. I’ll save myself for harder tasks, give you all a chance to do the simpler ones. God knows what this psycho has planned.”

His words are cold, but you can see the fear flickering in his eyes. He’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be.

“He is right, we need to be smart about this,” you mutter under your breath. “I get it. No one wants to do this. But if we don’t…we know what happens.”

Heeseung, who had been eerily quiet up until now, suddenly exhales sharply and the sound pulls everyone's attention to him. His arms are crossed and he’s been watching as the conversation spirals. But now it’s his turn to speak up.

“I watched How to Get Away with Murder,” Heeseung says unexpectedly, his tone eerily calm. “I mean, I can deal with a few broken fingers in the worst-case scenario, but that show taught me a lot.”

His tone is calm given the circumstances. He stands upright to fake confidence, his eyes scanning each of you with a sharp, assessing gaze. He can see and feel the apprehension in each of you. A TV show isn’t really the best means of knowing how a murderer actually works.

“Look,” he continues, “I don’t give a shit about being Jaeyun’s lackey. Fuck, there’s no way in hell I’m working for that psycho. But if this is what it takes to get out of here, then fine. It’s just a couple of fingers, right? I get this over with, I survive, and then I’ll figure out how to end this whole thing. We need everyone to survive each test at a shot of getting out of here. There is strength in numbers.”

Jaehyun glances at Heeseung, his eyes narrowing, though a flicker of respect passes through his gaze. “You’re serious?” he asks, disbelief threading ever so finely through his voice.

“Dead serious,” Heeseung replies, rolling his shoulders back as if shaking off the weight of what he’s about to do. “Someone has to go first. Might as well be me.”

He knows - he knows - that putting his hand in that device will hurt like hell, but he’s already rationalised it in his head. Broken fingers are temporary; death is permanent. And if this twisted test is the only way to survive long enough to escape, then fine, he'll take the pain. Heeseung's not the kind of guy to back down, not when there's a way forward, however brutal it might be.

You watch him, feeling a strange mixture of admiration and awe. Someone has to make the first move, or you’ll all be dead anyway. His determination brings a sliver of clarity, cutting through the terror gripping you.

Dayoung looks away, biting her lip, her eyes filling with guilt. “But...what if it’s worse than just broken fingers? What if-”

“I’ll handle it,” Heeseung cuts in, his voice sharper now, impatient. “We don’t have time for ‘what ifs.’” He looks toward the chair, and you can see the muscles in his jaw tense, his resolve hardening. “Two minutes. That’s all we’ve got. I’m not waiting around for this asshole to put us all to sleep.”

Without another word, you all watch Heeseung move toward the iron chair, his steps slow but deliberate; he’s walking a path already set in stone. The atmosphere shifts with each step he takes, growing heavier. It’s as if even the air is afraid to stir, afraid to acknowledge what’s about to happen.

Heeseung reaches the chair, his expression still calm, but you notice the subtle way his fingers quake as he reaches out to brush the metal skeleton that holds the fate of his fingers as he takes a seat.  

The strange contraption sits gleaming menacingly under the faint light. It reminds you too much of something straight out of a twisted tale you love, the kind of device you’ve seen rip apart flesh and bone on screen. But now, it’s here, in front of you, real and ready to inflict its brutal punishment.

Jaehyun approaches Heeseung, collar still in hand. “You sure about this, man?” His voice is quieter now, cautious. His eyes flit between the chair and Heeseung’s face, secretly begging the boy to not back out now.

Heeseung turns his head slightly, casting Jaehyun a brief look. “No,” he says simply, but with a grim smirk. “But it’s better than sitting around waiting to die.” His voice is calm, like he’s resigned to the pain that’s about to come. He slides into the chair, exhaling slowly as the cold metal presses against his back. 

You swallow hard, moving closer alongside Jaehyun and Dayoung, feeling the collective tension in the room ratchet up to a near-breaking point. There’s no way to delay this, no way to stop it. Heeseung’s steely determination is infectious, but it’s also terrifying. 

Watching him buckle the leather straps across his chest and arms is surreal, like watching someone chain themselves to their own doom. Jaehyun reluctantly straps and locks the boys wrists to the armrests, and places the collar on his neck, giving him a knowing but sympathetic look as he tightens it, the leather representing more of a noose than a fashion statement.

This is his death sentence.

Dayoung’s voice cracks as she speaks, her words faltering. “Heeseung, if you...if you can’t handle it, we’ll -”

“I’ll handle it,” Heeseung interrupts, his voice absolute. He gives her a brief, almost reassuring glance before slipping his fingers into the grooves of the trap. The device clicks, locking his hand in place with a chilling finality. He breathes in sharply but stays composed, his eyes narrowing in focus.

The room feels like it’s holding its breath, just waiting to be disrupted like still water. Then, without warning, Jaeyun’s voice echoes through the speaker, loud and bright.

“Ah! Looks like we’ve got our first interviewee. Atta boy, Heeseung,” he coos mockingly. “Now don’t look so grim, everyone. I promise this is going to be fun. Just sit back and enjoy the show. Who knows, you might learn a thing or two about the fine art of murder.”

Jaehyun snorts, though the sound is hollow. “Yeah, can’t wait for the master class.”

“Oh, someone’s still got jokes! Cute!” Jaeyun chirps, his voice taking on a teasing lilt bit you can sense the threat behind it. “Now, Heeseung, since you’re the brave soul taking a seat, let me remind you how this works. Get the question right, and you’ll walk away with your fingers intact. Get it wrong, and...well, I think you get the idea. Snap, crackle, pop!” 

A sickening sense of anguish washes over you. You glance at Heeseung, whose face is set like stone, determined, though you can see the slight twitch in his jaw as he braces for the worst.

“Let’s start with something simple, shall we? Question one: What chemical is most commonly used to dissolve organic matter, particularly bone?”

The question hits like a hammer against wood, reverberating through the room. You know the answer - you’ve seen enough crime documentaries in your life to know - but the gravity of the situation is causing your brain to short circuit. Finally, you understand contestants on The Chase and seeing them seize up in pressure makes more sense. Maybe you should stop slagging them off and start empathising. 

Heeseung, however, is unflinching. He knows this.

“Hydrochloric acid,” Heeseung answers coolly, eyes fixed on the trap, just in the off chance that it’s going to snap anyway despite his own assurance that he’s correct. 

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, Jaeyun’s voice comes through again, delighted. “Ding ding ding! Looks like you have potential. Good for you, Heeseung! But don’t get too comfy. The next one’s gonna be trickier...”

Jaeyun’s voice continues to betray light and bouncy colours, like someone introducing a game show, but there’s a sinister undercurrent to it - a dissonance that twists your stomach into knots. That contrast of him compared to your surroundings is what makes it so much worse. If he were dark and brooding, if his voice dripped with malice, at least you’d know what to expect. 

But this? This feels like a mockery of the fear gnawing at within you. The way he speaks - so upbeat, so casual - makes the horror of the situation seem unreal; you’re being taunted for even thinking this could be deadly serious.

“Oh! One little thing I forgot to mention, Heeseung, my guy.” There’s a pause between Jaeyun’s interuption, the silence stretching out ominously before he continues. “That collar you’re wearing? Yeah, if you get more questions wrong than right...let’s just say your fingers won’t be the only thing going capute, I’m afraid.”

The impact of his words hits like a Roman Reign’s Superman Punch. Heeseung’s face tightens, his composure faltering for the first time since this interview task began. The suffocating atmosphere in the room turns colder, sharper. 

“W-what does he mean?” Sunoo whispers, his voice trembling. His wide eyes dart between the collar around Heeseung’s neck and the rest of you, desperately seeking answers. You notice that about him, how he seeks guidance like a lost lamb. 

You daren't think how he will cope with his task.

Yet you don’t have time to think about Sunoo’s own woes as your own heart hammers in your chest, the tension skyrocketing. You try to keep your breathing steady, but Jaeyun’s words tighten around your body like a vice. The room feels impossibly small, the walls closing in, and suddenly, the bloodstains and grime seem more oppressive, more real.

Jaehyun’s brows furrow as he tries to process it all, but his voice comes out strained. “That thing…it’s rigged to kill him if he messes up too much. Fuck, this is insane.”

Heeseung’s gaze remains locked on the finger trap, but his breathing has quickened. His eyes flick briefly to the others, and for a moment, you can see the fear gnawing at him, breaking through that calm facade. But then his jaw sets again, and he straightens his back in the chair, forcing himself to maintain control. Heeseung doesn’t speak, but the flicker of doubt in his eyes tells you all that he understands the stakes now. More than just a few broken fingers are on the line - his life is teetering on a razor's edge.

Jaeyun’s voice hums back into the room, sensing the collective panic. “I wouldn’t worry too much, though,” he says, his tone still obnoxiously bright. “It’s just a little extra incentive, y’know? A bit of motivation to make sure you’re paying attention. Besides, Heeseung, you’re a smart guy! You already got the first one right. Piece of cake, really.”

“Piece of cake?” Jaehyun mutters darkly, his hands balled into fists. “This psycho’s enjoying this.”

“No shit,” you murmur in reply, yet your eyes locked on Heeseung’s collar. The device looks deceptively simple but now that you know what it’s capable of, it seems like something far worse. 

Sunoo looks like he’s on the verge of tears again, his hands clasped tightly together, trembling and he holds them to his chest, clearly wishing on a prayer. “Heeseung, you...you can’t get any more wrong. You just can’t.”

Heeseung glances briefly at Sunoo, then at the rest of you. His voice is calm, but you can hear the strain behind it now. “I’ll try not to.”

“Try?” Dayoung echoes, her voice rising with panic. “This isn’t something you just try at, Heeseung. If you get it wrong...”

Heeseung cuts her off, his tone sharper now, trying to maintain control over the situation. “I know. I know what happens. But freaking out isn’t going to help. I just need to focus.” His voice dips lower, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you, if not more. You can see him getting agitated with Dayoung but you know his attitude isn’t directly pointed at her worry for him, but rather the situation he has put himself in.

The rest of you stand frozen, helpless as the seconds tick away. Time feels like it’s slipping through your fingers, and there’s nothing you can do but watch.

Heeseung's chest rises and falls a little faster now, the weight of the situation pressing down hard on him. His hands flex slightly in the grooves of the device as though testing for a way out, but there’s no escaping what’s coming. 

Jaeyun’s voice returns, gleeful and dismissive of Heeseung’s pain. “Alright, folks, let’s get this party going again. Question two! Should be easy for a sharp guy like you, Heeseung.” He clears his throat, the grit of it grating your ears through the speakers. 

“What’s the best way to get rid of bloodstains on concrete? Think fast!”

Heeseung’s lips press into a thin line, his eyes narrowing as he focuses. You can almost hear the gears turning in his head, calculating the right answer while also bracing for the trap to spring if he’s wrong. The rest of you hang on the edge, nerves frayed, hoping he can pull through. Because who the fuck would know this answer? 

Swallowing thickly, the trapped boy can feel his adams apple collide with the metal death trap, which does nothing to clear his mind. Think, think, think. His chants of wishes are meaningless, there isn’t an episode or crime podcast that is coming to his mind that could save him.

He’s fucked.

“B-bleach,” Heeseung finally stutters out, unsure and unprepared for what the consequences are.

There’s a brief pause although it feels like an eternity, and then Jaeyun’s cheerful voice rings out again. “Ohhh, so close! It’s everyone’s go-to answer but bleach won’t get blood out of anything. You could have even said cow’s milk, but bleach is a basic bitch answer.”

Everyone stiffens. Heeseung’s jaw tightens in apprehension and his eyes flick nervously to the finger trap. There’s a moment where nothing happens, and everyone thinks that this is a hoax, that the psychotic boy is just fucking around with your minds. 

But then it all happens so quickly.

Heeseung’s breath hitches as the first snap resounds through the room - a brutal, stomach-turning crack. His hand jerks, but it’s locked in place, trapped as the device rips his finger back mercilessly. The bones give way with a sickening crunch, and though Heeseung tries to hold it in and be brave, a guttural scream rips from his throat. The sound is raw, torn from deep within him. You can only akin it to an animal being tortured, and in some way, he is.

His knuckles from his right hand whiten further as it clings to nothing, his other fingers trembling uncontrollably as the trap tightens. You can hear the awful, wet sound of skin stretching, starting to split at the joints. The mechanic isn’t just breaking his fingers…it’s tearing them off. 

Blood wells from the tears, trickling down his hand, the droplets splattering softly onto the grimy floor. Heeseung’s entire body trembles as wave after wave of agony courses through him and his breaths come out in ragged gasps, chest heaving violently, but there’s no escape from the vice-like grip.

Dayoung turns away, shielding her eyes from the gore in front of her. Never has she seen something so brutally evil. The worst thing she has ever witnessed was a Seagul popping under a tyre, and even then it took her 2 months of therapy to even glance at a winged animal ever again.

You can't tear your eyes away though, no matter how much you know you should. For just one finger, there’s so much blood, trickling relentlessly like a grotesque, mesmerising waterfall onto the floor, forming a pool of dark red. You hear each drip hit the ground, its quiet sound somehow more deafening than the crack of bone that preceded it. You're frozen, trapped with Heeseung in this nightmare.

“That’s one right and one wrong. Let’s hope for your sake, Heeseung, you get the next questions right. Wouldn’t want to see any more fingers out of place, would we?” Jaeyun mocks. He’s so sarky you wonder how on earth he ended up this way -  so numb to all of this.

Jaehyun's attention moves down to the collar that is snugly wrapped around Heeseung's neck. His heart clenches as he realises how much worse things may get. Heeseung treated this as a quiz with consequences. However, when Jaehyun watches the blood run freely from the boy's hand, he realises that this game is far crueller than they could have anticipated. His expression remains stoic, however, disguising his terror. Without the tiny wobble of his Adam's apple, no one would have known he was anxious.

Heeseung's breathing is weak and uneven as his body trembles from shock. The acute, burning agony that had previously ripped through him begins to fade slightly, but it stays in deep, throbbing pulses. He grinds his teeth, pulling in air through his nose, attempting to endure the pain, but it's searing up his arm and into his shoulder.  

Squeezing his eyes shut, he wills himself to breathe through it, to focus on something - anything - other than the pain and his other fingers twitch slightly, instinctively trying to pull away from the trap and escape their possible fate, but it's pointless - they’re trapped in there like rats on glue.

"Okay, time for the next round, folks! Are you ready, Heeseung? This one’s a real doozy. Third question!" Jaeyun’s voice is tainted with dark amusement, basking in the misery he is causing. "What's the best way to dispose of a body in under six hours without leaving a trace?"

The room becomes deathly quiet. It's a question no one could know the answer to unless they have done it before. The air feels heavy, as everyone holds their breath, or rather, gifts the air in their bodies to Heeseung. His chest rises and falls fast with your snatched breaths, his mind rushing for anything, any piece of knowledge that may rescue him.

But there's nothing.

"I-" Heeseung stammers, his speech scarcely audible. His throat is dry, his thoughts are confused, and his body is gradually giving up, wracked with distress and anxiety. He tries again, but his words are little more than rasps. "Acid?" It's a crazy and desperate guess, and the moment he says it, his face falls. He knows it's not the right answer.

Jaeyun’s laugh crackles through the speakers, high-pitched and mocking. “Oof, sorry, Heeseung, that’s not quite right. You’d need a lot more time to do that properly…Man, I should have invested in that buzzer.”

Everyone tenses again. Heeseung doesn't even have time to prepare himself before it happens. The second snap is even louder and quicker than the first: a horrific, gut-wrenching crack. His finger is violently jerked back, the bone splintering due to the pressure. This time, the device doesn't stop with a single snap. The finger bends even farther back at an unnatural angle, causing the broken bones to grind together with a sickening crunch. It makes your teeth grind together for some reason. The skin breaks more, the sharp edges of bone ripping through the flesh, blood coughing out in a fine mist and trickling down his hand in thick rivulets.

Heeseung lets out a strangled shriek, and his body convulses in the chair. His scream is muffled, halfway between a gasp and a sob, as he struggles to breathe through the unbearable pain His non-trapped fingers squeeze into fists, his knuckles becoming white as his body reacts instinctively to the sheer agony he is in. Tears burn his eyes, distorting his vision as the room around him appears to shrink, the anguish overshadowing everything.

“Looks like that one’s a little worse than the last, huh? Really fun fact for you all, the fingers located near the middle of your hand are actually attached to more nerves and have more bones than the others. So you better hope you get the next few questions right because otherwise…”

Everyone looks at Heeseung’s severed hand and comes to the same realisation. With his pinky and engagement finger already torn from his hand, his middle finger is up next, which means the most painful of all. 

The tortured boy finds it hard to concentrate on the madman’s educational lesson as he sits there, trying to fight the dizziness creeping in from the loss of blood.

"Hey, Heeseung, we've had our ups and downs, right? But I bet you'll appreciate the next one! It's a little challenging, but I believe in you. Fingers crossed!"

Heeseung flinches at the mention of fingers. His entire body is shivering, his muscles taut, and his head is foggy, pain radiates from his hand in unrelenting waves. His pulse thunders in his ears, and the room spins slightly as he struggles to remain aware. Every part of him wants to give up and let the misery engulf him, yet some deep, primordial urge drives him to hold on - to survive.

Jaeyun's voice becomes more serious as he continues the interview. "Okay, listen up. If you wanted to make a murder appear like an accident, how would you shatter the victim's bones in a way that mimicked a fall from a high location without actually dropping them?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Heeseung’s mind is beginning to race, trying to latch onto something that might help him. Documentaries, tv shows, movies, all play in his head at once like an overstimulating nightmare, and somewhere in that murky chaos, an idea forms.

“...Weights,” Heeseung mutters, his voice hoarse. It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s all he has and it’s better than no answer at all. “You…use weights…drop them…to break the bones, then stage the fall.”

The five of you hold your breath as silence falls over. Even Jaeyun appears to linger longer than usual as he considers Heeseung's response. Then, through the crackle of the speakers, Jaeyun lets out a slow, almost begrudging whistle. “Well, colour me impressed, Heeseung. That…is correct. You actually got it. Who knew you had such a devious mind, eh?”

The shock reverberates through the room because no one, including Heeseung, can believe it. His head lolls forward, and for the first time, he lets out a small, broken chuckle of relief. His chest heaves with a deep, difficult breath, and his ray of hope brightens, even if only slightly.

Sunoo stands next to you, shaking frantically. His gaze darts between Heeseung and the collar placed securely around his neck, his lips twitching with barely restrained terror. Then, unexpectedly, a faint, pathetic sob escapes him. You look at him, experiencing the genuine horror that emanates from his body. 

Without thinking, you draw him closer, throwing your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to console him. His body is rigid, yet he leans into you and grabs your sleeve like a lifeline. You've only known him for an hour or so, but with these circumstances, you feel compelled to shelter him. You wouldn’t say you had maternal instincts, none at all really, but you feel a pull towards the boy; like a planet to the sun. .

“And now… the fifth and final question.” He lets the words hang as he breaks the tender moment, “You’ve made it this far, Heeseung which is impressive, but you know how this works. This is the decider. Get it right, and you walk out of here with your life. Get it wrong…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but everyone knows what happens if Heeseung fails. That collar around his neck isn’t just for show. It will obliterate his being if he fumbles on this last question.

There is a shared look of sorrow mixed with the tiniest specal of hope that Heeseung can get out of this, that he might have lost two fingers but he will rise from that chair with his life. It’s all anyone can hope for, particularly the boy himself. 

"Alright Heeseung, last one, and let's see what you've got. Who was the first person ever murdered?”

The room freezes and you feel Sunoo’s breath hitch beside you, his body going rigid in your grasp. A ripple of disbelief washes through everyone because this question…it’s fucking impossible. You exchange a glance with the others, hearts pounding, knowing that the probability of Heeseung guessing this right is closer to zero than ten. 

Heeseung stares blankly ahead, his thoughts racing. The pain flowing from his wounded hand fades into the background as he realises this is the end. His thoughts race through several clouds of despair, anxiously searching for a solution. However, his thoughts comes up empty. He has no means of answering this. His breathing quickens, his chest rising and falling wildly as the pressure builds, clamping down on him like a vice.

His gaze shifts to his hand, or what's left of it. The gruesome scene of fractured bones, ripped flesh, and pooled blood. His once-strong fingers are now disfigured beyond recognition. It appears alien to him, as if it does not belong to his body anymore, and he certainly doesn't want it to be. The agony that once overwhelmed him has subsided, replaced with a chilly, creeping anticipation of what is to come. He cannot win. He's known it for a while, but this question - this impossible, ludicrous question - solidifies it in his mind.

Heeseung’s heart sinks as the hopelessness floods in, drowning any last flicker of hope. He looks down at the collar around his neck, the cold metal pressing against his skin, and he knows, without a doubt, that it’s going to kill him. His thoughts turn dark, his pulse pounding like a war drum in his ears. The idea of death, once abstract and distant, now feels all too real, looming over him like a shadow.

His mind begins to spiral. He pictures the trap and what on earth it could do to his neck. Would it hurt? Would it be fast? Or would there be a brief moment, just a second, where he’d feel everything before the darkness swallowed him whole?

A bitter taste fills his mouth, the knowledge that he’s going to die here settling like lead in his stomach. There’s no way out. No answer that will save him. He’s done for.

“I… I don’t know,” Heeseung finally whispers, his voice cracked and hollow. It’s not a plea for mercy, not an attempt to bargain. It’s just the truth - cold, hard, and brutal to accept.

Jaeyun's voice, feigning sorrow, returns over the speakers. "That's a shame, Heeseung. According to the Bible, the first murder was committed by Abel. But that doesn't really matter, does it? You got it incorrect.

Sunoo lets out a choked sob, burying his face in your shoulder and shivering vehemently as the reality dawns on everyone.

Heeseung's fate is sealed. He's going to die. 

The room is a graveyard of mourning, with the weight of what's going to happen crushing down like a thick and choking fog. Heeseung sits there, shaking, just holding on to his last scrap of hope. The pain from his fractured fingers pales in comparison to the nearing horror that looms over him.

The trap releases Heeseung's finger for just a moment before a quick, abrupt force yanks it back violently. The sound is horrible, a harsh snap that echoes across the room. Flesh shreds, tendons and muscle give way to the unrelenting strain of the pull, and the bone shatters into shards. Blood pours like a crimson rainbow, with the droplets catching the light before falling to the floor to meet their already escaped family. 

His anguish is a living thing, twisting and writhing inside him, growing with each heartbeat. He feels the loss - both physical and metaphysical - as his finger is ripped from him. The pain doesn’t just echo in his hand; it reverberates through his soul, a profound reminder that he is about to lose it all. His breath comes in ragged gasps, sharp and shallow, as the world begins to fade at the edges, like a high-opacity vignette. 

Amidst the hubbub, your eyes suddenly lower, and you notice it; the red light on the collar flickers like a heartbeat in the quiet. It's a warning sign for approaching disaster, a siren song that you can hear all too loudly. Each LED flicker acts as a countdown, catching everyone's attention.

Confusion sweeps across Heeseung's face, his forehead furrowing as he struggles to grasp the unexpected change in the room until he follows each of your gazes down to his fate. He observes the red glow as it pulses, and it is enough to warp the faces in the background.

He shakes his head weakly, as he attempts to wish the light away. "I…I don't want to die," he murmurs, each syllable a desperate cry that hovers in the air like a ghost. "I...I'm a good person!"

Dayoung’s heart sinks at the sound, and without a second thought, she rushes towards him, the instinct to save overwhelming any sense of self-preservation. “No! We have to get this off him!” she shouts, desperation flooding her voice.

But Jaehyun lunges forward, catching her arm before she can reach Heeseung. “Don’t! If you try and take it off, you’ll die too!” The urgency in his voice is laced with fear; while the boy in the chair’s fate is sealed, the rest of you can still have a chance.

Heeseung's eyes widen with terror and his breath quickens. Desperately, his wrists struggle to escape out of the leather straps, his legs kicking and struggling as he tries to tear himself free with the adrenaline of knowing he is dying in mere minutes, seconds. He opens his mouth, a choking sound emerging as he searches for one last idea, a desperate confession that could rescue him. 

But time is no longer on his side.

In a single second, the collar explodes with a thunderous sound that resonates across the room. The blast is brutal, sending pieces of metal and flesh flying in all directions. Blood splashes the walls, mimicking a horrific shower, turning the room scarlet and crimson. Heeseung's head vanishes in an instant, skin and bone crushing under the sheer force of the collar's mechanics, spreading fragments of him throughout the universe like grotesque confetti. 

Some of his skin and blood splatter on the rest of you, Dayoung and Jaehyun getting the brunt of it as they stand too close to the crime. Pieces of the boy now firmly clinging to you, his last remnants of hope in each of the lumps of his flesh, begging you to put him back together. 

Silence follows, thick and suffocating, leaving everyone in the room trapped in a state of shock, their minds struggling to comprehend the unthinkable. It’s not every day that you see someone blown to smithereens.

Dayoung remains transfixed, her hands quivering at her sides with specs of Heeseung's blood covering her skin. The warmth seems surreal in juxtaposition to the icy grip of disbelief that has settled in her chest.  She feels as if she has been driven into a nightmare that she can't escape, her heart beating in frantic panic as the truth of the situation breaks over her like a tidal wave.  

Jaehyun's eyes are wide and unblinking, peering into the space where Heeseung formerly sat. The conservatism he wore as armour has crumbled, revealing a raw vulnerability. He feels the weight of guilt crushing down on him, thick and oppressive. He should have done something to stop this madness. But now all that remains is a terrifying quiet, broken only by the gentle patter of blood flowing from the surroundings, as if the room were mourning the loss along with you all.

With his breath hitching in his throat as he grapples with the horror, Sunoo falls to the ground, letting you go, the impact jolting him back to reality. Tears stream down his cheeks, mixing with the blood that clings to his skin. “What just happened?” he whispers, his voice breaking, a fragile thread of sound that feels more like a whistle in the wind. No one can hear him, all drowning in your own minds.

You wipe the blood from your face, spitting out little bits of Heeseung's shattered head from your mouth as you gaze at his motionless corpse, shoulders to feet still attached. There is a beautiful quiet in death, both serene and awe-inspiring. Though his screams of dread and anguish echo in your memory, you know he is finally free.

You just need to make sure you avoid the same fate.

_____ 

Hours pass by as the group processes Heeseung’s demise. You try to clear up as much of him as you can, finding an old brush in the corner of the room, and sweeping up his head’s ashes. It’s surreal to be sweeping up a splattered head with such a commonly used household tool. Once you finish, you see the pile of him smooshing together, you wonder what type of person he was; good or bad, happy or sad, smart or dumb. You never really got to know him in the fleeting hour you spent trapped here together, all you can run off of is your imagination.

That is easier said than done however, especially with your mind caught up in what happened; it’s hard to separate him from the dismembered mess you’re cleaning up so casually. He seemed kind, and strong-willed, though that might be the reason he’s dead right now. 

Taking the first task was a brave but foolish decision. Is it wrong to be thankful that it wasn’t you? Even though you knew the answers, you wonder how your brain would have processed them if you were in the same situation as Heeseung. Like when you watch Catchphrase and get them all perfect, but as soon as you step foot in that studio, your mind blanks out from the pressure.

Sunoo and Dayoung have formed a bond through your time stuck in misery, those two you can read like a book. Both bubbly and bright, well, at least they would be if you met them under different circumstances. Dayoung is a beautiful air hostess who needs a job closer to home now that her mother is sick. When her best friend told her about jobs on the dark web, she applied for a bunch that seemed promising, dirty work that no one else would want to do - cleaning, sex work, drug transportation. She applied for them all. She is far too sweet to be here, and certainly too lovely to be a murderer's assistant. 

Jaehyun on the other hand, you haven’t heard a peep, a few grunts here and there, but never a word. He’s strange, constantly working something out in his head that you can’t quite put your finger on. You think about Dayoung’s accusation again but more in-depth. 

Clearly, he is not the killer or orchestrator of this entire derangement. But he is hiding something, either about his past or his present; in either case, you need to be wary of him.

"What about you, Y/N," Sunoo says with a sweet grin, "what did you do before this?"

To be honest, you haven't been paying attention to their chat recently, so the question throws you off. "Um, I…go to university."

Dayoung’s eyes light up, a flicker of her usual sunny personality breaking through. “I knew you were about our age! What are you studying?”

Before you can respond, the air crackles to life unexpectedly with the tannoy - it's almost cheery, in sharp contrast to the strain on everyone's faces.

"Sorry, I kept you waiting," Jaeyun's voice echoes uncomfortably light-hearted. "I had some other business to take care of." His voice alone sends shivers down your spine, and the phoney civility makes it much more terrifying. "Isn't it a shame about Heeseung? I was convinced he would make it!"

Your gaze instinctively flickers to where Heeseung’s body lays, and a cold wave of dread washes over you. The atmosphere shifts instantly, becoming even more hostile; Jaeyun’s mere voice is enough to suck the warmth from Sunoo and Dayoung straight out of the room. The others seem equally disturbed - Sunoo pales, and Dayoung’s lips tremble, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“Are you ready for task two?” Jaeyun continues, never actually expecting an answer, because let's face it, you all don’t really have a choice.

“Well, that depends,” Jaehyun mutters under his breath, bitterness tainting his words. “Is it fucking impossible?”

Jaeyun tuts mockingly, “No task is impossible, Jaehyun.” His tone sharpens, clearly irritated by the defiance. No one really talks back to killers like this, so you can understand the animosity that he holds for the older man. “Y/N, angel, could you be a sweetheart and pull that cloth over on the right?”

Your heart skips a beat as he speaks to you directly. You had not seen the big, alarming object wrapped in a thick sheet until now. It lurks in the corner of the room, producing a massive shadow that appears to reach across the ground. With trembling hands, you approach it, the others gazing in tense stillness. The cloth seems heavy in your fingers, and the structure beneath is gradually revealed as you draw it away. 

It's...horrifying. The tower rises around 8 feet tall and resembles a monstrous crucifix made of cold, glistening metal. At the top, as well as at the ends of the arm and foot sections, are little contraptions linked to a gear system that is too complex for even a YouTube tutorial to describe. The mechanics look meticulously designed for one purpose: pain. Your breath freezes in your throat as you take in the whole thing.

“Isn’t it beautiful? I made it myself, believe it or not.” Jaeyun’s voice drips with pride, “Someone needs to strap themselves in, and the rest of you... well, your job is simple. Find the keys I’ve hidden-”

“No,” you cut in, your voice surprisingly steady despite the bubbling in your stomach. “Tell us what really happens. One of us goes into this trap, and what?”

There is a pause. Then Jaeyun's voice returns, a bit slower and more deliberate. "Well," Jaeyun drawls, delighting in you discomfort. "See those gears? Once you're strapped in, parts of the machine start to spin all the way around. Slowly at first and each limb gets a full twist, one by one. You've got 10 minutes to find all the keys before your neck gets twisted and...you get the jist"

A countdown appears on the wall, and you realise the terrifying truth. The floor drops out from beneath you. 

"So, who's going in?" Jaeyun taunts.

The four of you exchange glances, each of your eyes betraying the same emotion - terror. None of you need to voice it. After witnessing Heeseung’s brutal demise, it's clear that no one wants to be the next victim. The unspoken tension swallows you whole. Jaeyun’s laughter still echoes faintly in your ears, mocking your helplessness as you stand before the towering metal monstrosity.

Jaehyun breaks the silence first. His hands shoot up, palms forward as though warding off any suggestion that he should take the fall. “Not me.” His voice is firm, adamant that he will not be strapped up and deemed helpless. Maybe it’s the toxic masculinity or something else, either way, you don’t really like his mentality. 

He steps back, glaring at the floor as if searching for answers in the cracks of the concrete. “I’m no good to you in that trap. I’m...” He hesitates, his brows knitting together as he searches for the right words, contemplating how much he should share. “Good at finding things. Things out of sight.” His lips curl into a faint snarl as his mind thinks in ways you can’t decipher from the twitch in his brow.

Sunoo fidgets anxiously before exclaiming, "I'm really good at escape rooms!" His speech resonates with an unexpected surge of confidence, and his eyes are filled with the hope that this will pardon him. "I always find the last clue!" A short smile flashes over his lips, a proud glance that glows behind his sullen demeanour. Escape rooms require cleverness, a knack for finding hidden things, secret compartments, and codes. He’s putting himself forward as the best option for hunting down the keys. His reasoning is sound, and the relief on his face is almost palpable as he sees the rest of you nod. 

You just hope he isn’t lying.

That leaves just you and Dayoung. You can feel their gaze on you, and the weight of expectation presses across your chest like a weight bar, and you have no one to spot you. The boys have already thrown out their reasons.. Now it's your turn. You open your mouth, but your thoughts are blank. How could you even start arguing your way out of this? There is no legitimate justification that will not come out as cowardly. Fear claws at your insides, and for a brief minute, you envision the machine twisting your limbs one by one, hearing the crunch of bone and muscles shredding, and experiencing the excruciating pain. The image makes you feel like vomiting. 

Dayoung fidgets next to you, her eyes darting between the rest of you in search of an escape. Her face is pale and fingers tremble as she tugs on the hem of her shirt. You can see her anxiety, a mirror of yours. But underneath that anxiety is truth, and the truth is that someone has to step into the trap - you cannot let that person be you.

The painful instrument dominates your thoughts, its cold, lifeless shape sending shivers down your spine. You can hardly think straight as you look for any excuse or justification to avoid the crucifix-like monster.

"I..." you begin, your voice unsteady and hesitant. "I have quick hands." The lie emerges before you can stop it, a feeble attempt to weasel your way out. “I’m good at…opening things. Picking locks, and…I can hotwire stuff. If worst comes to worst, maybe I can stop the gears.”

The flimsy excuse hangs in the air, and for a moment, you wonder if they’ll see through it. Sunoo, to your surprise, nods quickly, accepting your words without question. His eyes flicker with a strange sense of determination, as though he’s already decided this task will be his moment to prove something - perhaps even to himself. It’s not just about who gets into the death trap anymore; it’s about whether or not the others trust you enough to find the keys and save whoever steps into that crucifix-shaped machine.

Dayoung, however, remains frozen, her terror palpable. She looks between you and the machine with a mixture of disbelief and silent pleading, as if she’s hoping someone - anyone - will speak up and spare her from what’s coming. The claggy air around you grows thicker and more suffocating. Every breath feels shallow, as though you’re inhaling the very tension that blankets the room.

“Dayoung, you get in,” Jaehyun says, his tone flat and absolute. There’s no room for argument, and you can see from the set of his jaw that he’s not going to entertain any. His words hang heavy in the silence, a command disguised as a suggestion.

Dayoung snaps out of her haze, eyes widening with horror as she instinctively goes into defence mode. Nothing like someone forcing you to possible death to spring you alert. “Huh? Why me?” Her voice wavers, panic obvious in her words. “I have twenty-twenty vision, and I’m smaller than all of you! I can squeeze into tight spaces-”

You interrupt, your voice stronger than you feel. “The three of us all have those skills covered. I’ve got good eyesight, and Sunoo is small, he can wiggle into any space that needs crawling into.” You’re desperate now, more than you’d like to admit. If they start considering her reasoning, you’ll be the one stepping into that machine, and you can’t - won’t - let that happen. You don’t know these people. You don’t trust them. What if they strap you in and fail to find the keys in time? What if they’re lying about their abilities? What if they leave you to die?

Sunoo, catching onto your momentum, pipes up next. “Yeah, and you said you were a cheerleader back in high school,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “So that means you’re, like, bendy, right?”

Dayoung glares at him, clearly regretting ever sharing that piece of personal information. “What does that have to do with my limbs being twisted off my body?!” she snaps. “Flexible or not, they’ll still be twirled like a fucking pretzel!”

You wince at the harshness of her words, but Jaehyun, standing by the contraption, doesn't seem fazed. Instead, he glances at Dayoung, his expression unreadable as he adds, “It means you might be able to withstand it more than we will.”

The room falls silent, weighing up the truth of his statement and somehow agreeing with his logic. Dayoung, however, looks at him like he’s lost his mind, her face contorted with disbelief and horror. “Oh, and what about my neck, huh?” she snaps, voice rising. “What if you losers don’t find all the keys and my neck gets snapped? Nobody can ‘withstand’ that more.”

Her words echo in the room, and for a brief moment, everyone is stunned into silence. Jaehyun crosses his arms, clearly unmoved by her protests. He’s decided, and there’s no changing his mind. 

"I don't want to die like this," Dayoung says, her voice suddenly low and broken. Her shoulders sag as the gravity of the situation sinks in. Her eyes are glazed over with terror, and you can feel her breaking. All that bravado and bite she had earlier is slowly but surely disappearing.

But Jaehyun's stare is unwavering. He takes a step nearer and rests his hand on the cool metal of the machine, his eyes surveying the intricate gearwork with detached fascination. "We won't let it go that far; just do it," he adds, almost as if he's trying to persuade himself as well as her.

Finally, Dayoung takes a hesitant step forward, her face pale as a ghost. She's resigned, like a prisoner headed to the end of the line. And you can only watch as she climbs onto the platform, her hands shaking as she fumbles with the straps, helping Jaehyun secure her into whatever fate lies ahead.

The sound of the straps and locks clicking into place makes your stomach churn and Dayoung’s breath hitches as the final buckle snaps into position, locking her neck in. You can see the panic rising in her eyes, her chest heaving as the machine stirs to life. She’s finding it hard to believe that Heeseung was so calm, and if he wasn’t, then how the fuck did he hide it so well.

“Excellent! Well done Dayoung,” Jaeyun’s unsympathetic voice bounces between the speakers and down the walls. “The countdown’ll start as soon as your right arm starts to twist! Good luck and remember, this is a team interview exercise.” 

Your legs feel like cement as you wobble forward, your gaze darting over the room, looking for any trace of the missing keys. The others follow suit, but it’s clear that the tension has infected everyone’s ability to think straight. The sound of the machine's gears creaking fills the room as the clock ticks down, and every second feels like a mallet, battering you deeper into dread.

Dayoung whimpers behind you, the straps tightening as precious time slips by. The air is thick with her shallow breaths, and the hum of the machine grows louder, more menacing. You can hear the faint clicking of gears preparing to turn, and the thought of her limbs being twisted…it’s enough to make bile rise in your throat.

You can’t think, can’t focus.

The countdown is annoyingly bright and menacing in the corner of your eye as Dayoung’s breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps, the crucifix’s gears clanking ominously and telling the tale of what is to come. Her wide eyes dart frantically between the three of you as her right arm jerks in its restraint, slowly being twisted backwards, the pain already creeping up to her shoulder. 

"Please! Oh my God, hurry!" Dayoung cries, her shrieking voice slicing the quiet like a blade. Her body twitches in pain as the cuff tightens around her wrist, and you watch in horror as the skin on her arm stretches unnaturally, taut like a rubber band about to snap.

The grinding noise grows excruciating as the gears yank harder, and suddenly, you hear it: crack - the first bone in her arm fractures loudly, like dry twigs breaking beneath your feet. Blood vessels begin to creep onto the surface of her skin. Her hand twitches furiously, fingers curving into odd angles as her forearm twists tighter and tighter, bones grinding against muscle. 

Dayoung’s right arm twists further, the machine now dragging her elbow into an impossible angle. The skin stretches thin, almost translucent, the veins standing out against her flesh. A sickening pop fills the air as her elbow dislocates, and her screams grow louder, more desperate. Blood oozes from her wrist, the pressure of the cuff cutting deep into her skin.

You feel like you’re frozen in place, staring at the horror unfolding in front of you, but Sunoo is sueprisingly the first to break free of the trance. “We need to find the keys!” he shouts, voice tight with panic, to which you and Jaehyun nod, tearing your eyes away from the sight. You all wasted two precious minutes just staring at her when you could have been looking for the keys that could have been saving her.

You rush into action, your mind racing and your hands shaking violently as you yank every object in the room out of its designated space. As you knock it over, a chair smashes to the ground, tearing up its cushion in a blind quest for the key to stop the madness.

Jaehyun searches through a cabinet, tugging drawers out one by one, the wood splintering as he throws them away. "There must be something! Anything!" His voice shakes and you can see desperation in his eyes. 

Yanking open a vent in the wall, Sunno’s hands tremble as he feels around inside, the cold metal and dust bunnies brushing his fingertips. Then, he feels a bump and his digits pinch around it, the jagged edges meaning only one thing.  

“I’ve got one! I found a key!” he cries out, holding the small piece of metal high. You all rush over to Dayoung, hope surging through you like lightning. Maybe this will work, maybe you can stop it.

Sunoo's heart pounds in his chest as he wrestles with the lock on her right arm restraint. His fingers fumble with the key, trying to find the right angle, but it just won't turn, or more to the point, the key isn't fitting. "No, no, no, no!" he mutters, his voice rising in desperation. He tries again, twisting the key with all his might, but it remains stubbornly stuck. 

Jaehyun takes the key from him and tries another lock on the machine. "What the hell?!" He plugs the key into the contraption's base, but the gears continue to revolve. You can hear Dayoung sobbing; the anguish is too much for her to bear. 

“We’re wasting time!” you shout, looking around frantically. "Let’s just collect all the keys first, then we’ll figure it out!"

The three of you go back to scrambling around, opening drawers, and checking behind cabinets, Jaehyun even looks around Heeseung’s decapitated body, hoping that one could shine out amongst the blood. 

Sunoo discovers another key buried in a crack in the wall, near a dusty old picture. "Another one!" he cries, but the desperation in his voice exposes the helplessness that grips all of you. He pockets the key, and the three of you spread out again, tearing through the room with intent.

Jaehyun is ripping apart the shelf with desperate energy, his knuckles white, when the next horrible thud of the machine resonates across the room, sending a chill down your spine. You turn just in time to see Dayoung's right leg furiously writhing in its constraint, the strap pressing further into her skin. The machine moves its brutal focus to her lower body. Your stomach clenches and nausea rises in your throat as you watch the grotesque scene unfold.

The machine's gears moan, and Dayoung's foot begins to twist awkwardly, as the rotation accelerates. Her thigh remains rigid, its muscles straining and bulging under the pressure, like a rope stretched to its breaking point. Her knee tendons swell beneath her skin, huge cables of flesh pulling and stretching in a dance of resistance. Dayoung's scream punctures the air, a primal, guttural sound that stills your blood. Her face is pallid, smeared with tears and sweat, and her eyes are wide with fear as she thrashes helplessly.

"Oh my God! Not my leg! Not my leg!" She screams with an understandable mix of fear and pain. The thin layer of skin around her knee begins to rip, blood pouring through as the strain goes above what human flesh is capable of withstanding. Her muscles twist and sag as the machine's merciless grasp tightens, and suddenly, with a horrible crack, her knee breaks sideays, making a wet, nauseating sound that echoes like thunder. 

The jagged edge of her femur rips through her skin with a nauseating pop, jutting out in a jagged shard. It weirdly reminds you of Adamantoise from Final Fantasy XV. Flesh hangs in torn, ragged ribbons around the exposed bone, and blood pours in a thick torrent, pooling in a dark stain beneath her mangled limb, much like Heeseung’s fingers did, except this is a lot more blood and a lot more evil to watch.

Jaehyun stumbles backwards, panic in his eyes as he tears open another drawer, frantically pulling out a key hidden behind a false panel. His hands shake as he tries the key in the restraint locking her left leg, just in the off chance. “Goddammit! What are these for?!” His voice cracks, teetering on the edge of despair as the key refuses to budge. His breath comes in ragged gasps, desperation turning his hands into quaking fists.

Your mind is overwhelmed by the image of Dayoung's leg, which is no longer recognisable as a limb but rather a tangle of flesh and bone gushing blood. It looks like raw meat shredded apart by wolves. The room spins around you as you claw at the walls, overturning furniture in a wild frenzy, searching for anything - literally anything - to stop this.

Suddenly, Sunoo’s shout pierces the chaos. “I’ve got a gold one!”.

He bolts toward Dayoung, holding up another key as if it were salvation itself. He jams it into the restraint around her left leg, but it doesn’t turn. The machine chugs and Dayoung’s other leg is pulled taut, the bone twisting under the skin in a gruesome slow-motion torture. The sound of her muscles tearing, that awful wet rip, lodges itself in your ears, and you can't shake it.

Then comes the final, sickening snap. The bone in her shin shatters, tearing through her skin in jagged shards. A spray of blood explodes across the room, splattering onto Sunoo’s face, and your legs. It feels warm and sticky against your skin, the coppery scent filling the air and overcoming your senses. Dayoung’s screams have weakened, her voice barely a whisper now, choked with exhaustion and agony, her eyes glazed over in shock, mouth spilling out choked sobs.

It’s amazing how different the circumstances between Dayoung and Heeseung are, yet their deaths follow a similar parallel. The sprays of blood, the weakened states, the bones crushing. It shows that no matter the reason for death, everyone bleeds and breaks the same.

“We don’t have much time!” Sunoo cries, his hands shaking violently, clutching the remaining keys like they’re mocking him. His eyes are wild, filled with fear as he glances between Dayoung’s mutilated body and the infernal machine that continues its slow, merciless work. You can feel it, too - the ticking clock of doom, grinding closer and closer to its inevitable, bloody end. 

It’s more daunting than the actual clock behind you.

The machine clicks ominously, and the sound alone makes your stomach lurch. Dayoung’s left arm jerks violently as the mechanical cuffs tighten around her wrist, pulling at her arm and beginning it’s torture on the perfectly in-place limb - the only one she has left. The grinding whir of the machine grows louder, almost gleeful, as though it’s savouring the destruction it's about to unleash on her fragile body. You know Jaeyun will surely be enjoying this - like machine, like inventor.

Her arm twists further, the tendons straining beneath the skin like cords ready to snap. Then, with a sickening pop, her shoulder dislocates just like her right, and you watch as the bone and muscle jut unnaturally against the surface of her skin, threatening to rip through. Blood begins to trickle from the edges of her arm, mixing with the thick pool already staining the floor beneath her mangled legs. Her head lolls to the side, her mouth opening in a weak gasp as her eyes roll back, the struggle for consciousness palpable on her ashen face.

Jaehyun is tearing apart the last piece of furniture in the room, his voice raw with frustration. “There has to be one more key!” He throws the remains of a shattered drawer against the wall, rage flooding his features. It’s supposed to be five keys for the five locks, and even though the older man knows that the likelihood of the last key working, he needs to find it for principle.

The machine doesn’t give you a moment to process that you can’t save her as a dark groan comes from behind her head. it locks into its final phase and Dayoung’s body spasms, her neck jerking in the metal collar now tightening around her throat. Her eyes snap open, wide with pure, unadulterated terror as the realisation hits her, the clock from the projector down to its final two minutes. “No! No, no, no! You said you would save me you fucking assholes.” Her scream is shrill, a piercing wail filled with desperation and horror, the kind that claws at your insides. Her chest heaves as she tries to force air through her constricted throat, her sobs now a mix of strangled cries and gurgling gasps.

The collar tightens further, pressing into her throat like a vice. Rather than spinning her around like it did her arms and legs, this one tightens, squeezing flat against her neck. Her throat bulges unnaturally under the pressure, veins pulsing as the skin stretches to its breaking point. She’s barely able to get a breath, her voice reduced to choking whimpers. “Please, please, stop it!” Dayoung pleads, her wide, panic-stricken eyes darting between you and the others, pleading for mercy, for salvation. “Don’t let it kill me! Please!”

You’re out of time. The keys don’t work and the machine has literally no mercy to offer. But Sunoo isn't going to just let someone die; it's not who he is. He begins to shake the device, kicking and clawing at it, desperation as his driving force. He attempts to remove the leather strap from her throat, but it's too tight to fit his fingers beneath.

“Y/N, you said you can hot wire! Fucking do something,” he cries out, never taking his eyes off Dayoung. He doesn’t know her but even with the dragging hours that have passed, learning about her and forming even a slither of connection, he has to do everything to get her out of this.

In a panic, you rush to the rear of the equipment ripping apart the metal plate concealing its inner workings. Inside, you can see the gears spinning, the chilly, complex system pushing Dayoung's head tighter and tighter, threatening to shatter her neck like a fragile twig.

As your fingers dig into the tangle of cables, the machine roars louder, its gears grinding cruelly, as if mocking your efforts. Sweat pours down your cheeks, and your hands tremble uncontrollably as you grasp at wires, hoping to disconnect something to halt the awful machinery. 

"Y/N, hurry!" Sunoo's voice breaks with dread, and his eyes widen as he sees Dayoung's body contort even more. Her short, raspy gasps get faster and more frantic as she struggles against the collar's inexorable tightening. She can't even fight with her body, all of her limbs being held together by straggled pieces of muscle and cartilage. If you were to describe it, you would say what should be her arms and legs have turned into those childhood blankets that disintegrate through years of wear and tear. Yet this only happened in a matter of minutes.

Your fingers fumble with the cables, shaking with every quick movement. You cross some over, hoping that by some miracle, your desperate efforts may put an end to the horror unfolding right in front of you. The air is heavy with tension, and each breath is weighed down by fear and powerlessness. But suddenly, amidst the metallic clinks and grinding hum of the machine, you hear it: the unmistakable click.

The machine surges, accelerating with terrifying speed”

"Y/N! Stop it! Stop it!" Sunoo’s voice is raw, squeaking with sheer panic, but the horror is already set in motion. The machine lets out a final, deafening whir, as if announcing its triumph, and then it happens.

The sound is an abomination - a sharp, bone-splitting crunch that reverberates through the room like a gunshot. It’s not just a snap; it’s a sickening, wet crack and squelch that makes your skin crawl, as though the very marrow inside her bones has been torn apart. 

Dayoung’s head shifts distortedly as it falls forward, barely hanging on. Her eyes are wide, lifeless - once filled with terror, now emptied of everything. There’s no struggle left in her, no more screams, no more gasps. The frantic twitching of her body ceases in an instant, the fight drained from her all at once, leaving only a horrifying stillness. Her limbs hang limp in the restraints, the tendons and bones within mangled beyond recognition.

Blood runs from her neck and down her body, creating a deep, black pool with a sticky surface that gleams in the harsh lights above, almost acting like a mirror. Every morsel of life have been drained from her, oozing into the concrete floor and merging with the carnage that has already taken her legs and arms. The machine comes to a slow, halting end, seemingly content with its work, leaving nothing but shattered quiet in its wake.

The silence that follows is oppressive, an emptiness so profound that it feels as if the room is closing in on the three of you. The weight of the terror bears down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe, and your pulse hammering in your ears as the realisation of what has just happened sets in. As you walk around to see the mess that you helped cause, you place a hand over your mouth, masking your emotions as your eyes trail every piece of her. Dayoung’s mutilated body hangs before you, a disturbing wreckage of blood, bone, and twisted flesh. Her limbs, once full of life and motion, now hang like shattered remnants of a body that once moved, once breathed. The machine has reduced her to ruin, her final scream still echoing faintly in your mind, haunting and relentless.

Sunoo backs up and you catch him before he falls, your left arm scooped around his waist as you hold him steady. You pat his head with your free hand, lulling him to calm down, but no amount of shushing or empathetic words can stop him from shutting down. So, you gently place him down on the ground, facing away from Dayoung’s mangled body.

The clock behind you switches from the dreaded countdown to Jaeyun, his eyes lighting up with joy as he takes in the pretty sight before him. 

“Wow. That was a mess huh?” The pout on his face makes him look young, but no matter how baby his face might look, he is still evil throughout his bones. "That is such a shame, guys. Really, I am so sorry. All you needed was one mor-" he stops suddenly and it's quiet as you’re all left in suspense. He giggles and gasps in mocking shock. "Oh no…guys this is all my fault…I didn't put in the right keys...my bad" 

The taunting lilt in Jaeyun's voice makes your skin crawl, the shine of the correct keys in his hands only adding insult to injury. The weight of Dayoung's lifeless body settles heavily on your chest, but Jaeyun’s words rip through that veil of despair like a sharp blade, twisting the knife deeper.

"You sick bastard!" Jaehyun shouts out, veins popping from his forehead. Hearing the murderer through a tannoy is one thing, but for Jaehyun, seeing him is so much worse. The smug grin that never leaves, the sheer enjoyment that vibrates through his body as he talks you through the torment, he can’t fucking stand it.

"Even if the correct keys had been in place, Dayoung would still be nothing more than a twisted wreck. This doesn’t change anything. Her fate was sealed the moment this game began. You didn’t find the last key."

Frustration mounts, fists clenched and knuckles whitening. There’s an instinct to lash out, to break something, to do anything to fight the powerlessness suffocating the room. "You’re lying!" Jaehyun snaps, refusing to believe or accept his own downfall in finding the key. "You hid that last key! There was never a chance to save her!"

The murderer on the screen gives a cold laugh, eyes gleaming with perverse pleasure. "Now, now," comes the taunting coo, "I wouldn’t be screaming at your potential future employee, Jaehyun."

A sharp bang fills the space as Jaehyun’s fist slams against the wall, the thud reverberating through the air. "Where is it?" The demand is firm, the need to know outweighing the anger. “Tell me where the last key is!”

A soft, condescending sigh follows. "Why do you care, hmm? Dayoung is already dead, her neck squished like a grape. Why does it matter?" The question is laced with cruelty, the words designed to provoke.

Taking a breath, Jaehyun forces the anger down, his voice dropping to a low growl. He needs to remain calm and focused right now. "Call it curiosity."

Silence hangs for a moment before Jaeyun leans forward, his gaze dark with amusement. "Curiosity, huh?" he muses. "I like that in my workers." The pause stretches on as if savouring the tension. Then, his voice takes on a more dramatic tone. "The last key…is in the eye of the beholder." 

“What the fuck does that mean?" The sneer from Jaehyun is filled with disdain as his eyes narrowed in frustration. "Quit with your cryptic bullshit!"

Jaeyun’s grin widens into something grotesque. He doesn’t explain, not even a blues clues crayon drawing to help you understand. Instead, he adopts a chirpier demeanour, clapping his hands together and bringing back that game show host vibe he had at the very beginning. 

"Who’s ready for round three?" The shift in tone is as jarring as it is maddening, the man’s sadistic pleasure in his own game shining through.

A whisper breaks the silence. "W-what is it?" Sunoo’s voice trembles, his body shaking and eyes glistening with tears.

"Glad you asked, Sunoo!" The glee in Jaeyun’s voice is palpable, oozing cruelty. "Round three is a favourite in our household. We like to call it...Key Cutter."

A thrill spikes as you glance toward the screen, dread and curiosity settling deep in your stomach. "What...what does that mean?" you ask, voice tight.

"It begins with a scan," he replies, his tone dropping lower and more sinister. “Y/N, why don’t you be a doll and grab the brown envelope on the table to your right?”

Swallowing hard, you nod and move stiffly toward the table, legs heavy. The envelope sits there, innocuous in appearance, yet you know that whatever it contains will be anything but ordinary. With trembling hands, you tear it open and pull out the contents. A stack of MRI images stares back at you, cold and clinical. At first, you don't register what you're seeing, but then the truth hits like a sledgehammer. 

The scan shows a skull, some side view and others straight on, but within it, lodged behind the eye socket, is something metallic.

A key…the key.

“What the hell is this?” Your voice barely escapes your lips as the images tremble in your hands.

Jaeyun’s laughter reverberates through the room. "Oh, it’s actually kinda funny. The fifth key you need? It’s hidden inside someone’s skull."

A wave of nausea washes over you as his words sink in. One of you is carrying the key inside your own head.

“How the hell were we supposed to know that?” Jaehyun barks, snatching the scan from your hands quickly, eyes narrow as he studies the image and muscles tensing with each second that passes. His knuckles turn white, gripping the paper so tightly that it threatens to tear. There’s a fire in his eyes - rage, frustration, and helplessness all coiling into a dangerous tornado inside him.

“Didn’t you say you were good at finding things? You should’ve figured that out, Jaehyun.” The taunt from Jaeyun cuts deep, aimed with precision to needle Jaehyun's already strained patience, and clearly it’s working.

Sunoo, wiping his tear-streaked cheeks, takes a trembling step forward. His body is still shaking but there’s a determination now - a need to understand what the fuck is going on, even as fear gnaws at him.

“I...I want to see it,” Sunoo mumbles softly, his voice cracking as he approaches. His hand reaches out, fingers quivering as they touch the edge of the scan and pull it from the man’s grasp. Sunoo doesn’t like anger or confrontation and although he understands Jaehyun and his right to be mad, it doesn’t make him any less frightened of him.

His eyes flit across the image, tracing the lines of the skull, the shape of the eye socket, and finally, the small key embedded within. His breath catches in his throat. “Whose... whose eye is it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

A sinister chuckle echoes through the speakers. “Why don’t you take a closer look, bud?” 

Sunoo’s fingers tighten around the paper, pulling the image closer to his face and his brows furrowing as he focuses. There’s something familiar about the shape, the positioning of the skull. He’s seen this before...in a different context. His eyes widen suddenly, like a jolt of icy realisation has shot through him, freezing him in place.

“N-no...” he breathes, the colour draining from his face. His lips tremble, and his whole body runs cold, every part of him going rigid as his heart pounds in his chest, desperate to keep his blood pumping. "I-it’s...it’s mine."

Both you and Jaehyun turn toward him, the air in the room thickening with dread. Sunoo stares at the scan, barely able to process what he’s seeing. His hand lifts shakily to his face, fingers hovering near his right eye, as if he could somehow feel the key hidden inside, buried in his skull. "I-I recognise the fracture," he says, voice trembling. "I...I had an accident a few years ago...a fall. They did a scan, and it looks just like this...This is my skull."

A suffocating silence falls over the room as the three of you stare blankly at the scan, any hope that it was a hoax now ripped away from each of you. 

Sunoo is the one. The key is inside him. And now, the terrible weight of what that means settles over the group like a dark cloud.

Jaeyun’s voice, dripping with delight, breaks the tension. “That’s right, Sunoo! You’re the chosen one. You’ve been holding onto the key this whole time. Isn’t it funny how life works?” The sound of his laughter twists the knife further into the collective horror.

Sunoo stumbles back, his legs giving way as he crumples to the floor, shaking violently and backing up to the wall. "No...no, no, no...this can’t be real!" His hands grasp at his face, desperate and terrified, as if he could pull the key out by sheer will alone. Tears stream freely now, the terror overwhelming him completely. It might be his imagination but as the salty liquid hits his lips once again, there’s a metallic taste to it, the key dissolving into his tears.

"Hey, hey, it's okay! We don’t need the key anymore, Sunoo. You’re safe,” you rush to comfort him, your voice strained but hoping that somehow your words will break through his panic. After all, Dayoung’s fate was sealed without that final key. What difference would it make now?

But the instant Jaeyun’s voice cuts in, your skin crawls, and you feel a chill deep in your bones. "Weeeelll..." Jaeyun drags out the word, dripping with sinister delight. You freeze. His tone alone tells you that something much worse is coming. You glance at Sunoo, who is still sitting in a broken heap on the floor, and your stomach turns.

"You see," Jaeyun continues, "those keys you’ve been gathering? They weren’t actually for task two... but you do need them for task three."

The room seems to close in as his words seep into your mind. You can feel Sunoo next to you, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. His eyes glaze over in shock, and he looks like he’s going to be sick - and you wouldn’t blame him if he projectiled all over the floor right now. 

The sharp stench of fear and sweat fills the air. His throat bobs, dry lips parting as if he wants to say something, but nothing comes out because there’s nothing to say, nothing that can get him out of this. His chest rises and falls rapidly, breaths shallow, and you see the terror completely take over.

"Y-you’re lying...we don’t need the key..." Sunoo mumbles, but there’s no conviction behind his words. His body betrays him, curling in on itself, as though he’s trying to make himself small enough to disappear.

Jaeyun hums thoughtfully, as though considering. "I wouldn’t lie to you. I make it habit never to lie to my employees. You see, task three? It’s a blood sport. Literally."

A low, ominous hum begins to vibrate in the room, coming from somewhere deep in the walls. The tension mounts as Jaeyun’s explanation continues. "There’s a box in front of you, you see it? That box needs to be filled with blood. When it’s full, the door to the final interview will open. Easy enough, right?" His voice is light, almost playful. But the implications hang heavy in the air, crushing your hope.

Your eyes dart around, searching the dim room until they land on the glass box that had gone unnoticed until now, nestled against the far wall. It's ominous, with measured lines down the side of it, indicating the measurements of what it’s supposed to hold.

"The catch," Jaeyun goes on, relishing every moment of your growing horror, "is that you need all the keys to unlock the cabinet where some special tools are stored. You can’t spill a drop until you have every key in hand because you can only use the tools that I give you! And before you think about it; no, you cannot use Dayoung or Heeseung’s blood, that would be waaay too easy."

Sunoo stifles a sob as he listens, hands clenched at his sides. His breath comes out ragged, and his whole body seems to shake with barely contained hysteria. “N-no...I can’t...I can’t do this!” His voice wavers as his panic deepens. The vomit threatening in his throat seems to rise, and he swallows it back, his face going pale as his lips tremble.

You kneel down beside him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Sunoo, listen to me," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "We can figure this out. Just breathe."

Sunoo shakes his head frantically, panic surging through his veins. "I can’t...I can’t-"

Jaeyun cuts in again, casually flipping the mood. "Of course, you don’t have to volunteer yourself, Sunoo. You all make it a team effort. It’s up to you, I’m all for teamwork, although, I would like it if my new assistant had most of their body intact." He chuckles darkly, the sound grating in your ears like nails on a chalkboard.

Your heart sinks as you absorb his words. You glance at the others, trying to read their faces, but the reality of what’s being asked of you makes everything seem surreal.

"Fill the box with blood, and the door opens. Simple as that." Jaeyun’s words echo, cold and final. "If you want a shot at getting out of here, you're going to need that key. So, what’s it going to be?"

Sunoo squeezes his eyes shut and wraps his arms around himself, trying to keep from falling apart completely. Fresh tears fall down his cheeks and he’s breaking down right in front of you, shaking like a leaf from the wind that Jaeyun has just knocked out of him.

His panic spirals rapidly out of control; breaths come in short, erratic gasps, his chest heaving as if he can’t get enough air. His eyes dart around wildly, searching for a way out, but there is none. His entire body trembles violently, and you can see the sweat gathering at his hairline, his skin pale as death…which is all his body is gearing him up for.

“I can’t…I can’t…I can’t!” His voice cracks, hysteria rising, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He starts backing away, his legs stumbling over themselves as he moves like a cornered animal. “Don’t make me! Please, I can’t do it!”

The desperation in his voice rips through you, and you can’t help but feel awful. Every instinct inside you screams to comfort him, to tell him it will be okay. But the truth is, it won’t be. There’s no escape from this. You’ve seen it too many times already. If you don’t get that key, you’re all going to die.

Your throat is tight, and the words feel like acid on your tongue as you step closer to him, trying to keep your voice steady. “Sunoo…listen to me. We…we don’t have a choice.” You swallow hard, the weight of what you’re about to say crushing you. “If we don’t get that key, we’re all dead. We need it. You know that. You’ve seen what happens here.”

Sunoo shakes his head furiously, his hands coming up to clutch his head as if trying to block out your words. “No, no, no…Please…There has to be another way.”

Jaehyunhis face is twisted in frustration. His fists clench and unclench, but you can see that same terrible understanding in his eyes. He knows there is no other way.

“There’s no time, Sunoo!” Jaehyun snaps, his voice harsh but cracking with the weight of the situation. “You heard him! If we don’t do this, we’re all going to end up like Dayoung and Heeseung. Do you want that?”

Sunoo’s face crumples, his hands dropping from his head as a sob escapes him. He shakes his head weakly, his voice just a titter or a whisper. “I don’t want to die…I don’t want to…” His wide, tear-filled eyes lock onto yours, pleading for some other solution, for some mercy that clearly no one is willing to give him.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to gently take his nervous hands in yours. The moment your skin touches his, you feel how ice-cold he is, his body in shock. “I don’t want you to die either, Sunoo. None of us want this. But if we do this right, then you won’t. If you lose an eye you can still survive.”

His breath hitches, and you can see the conflict raging inside him. He doesn’t want to do it - no one would - but deep down, he knows you’re right. You can see it in his face, the crushing weight of the truth bearing down on him.

‘I can’t believe this is happening…” he whispers, his voice fragile, broken.

“I’m sorry…” You choke on the words. “I’m so sorry…but we need that key.”

For a long, horrible moment, the room is silent except for Sunoo’s ragged breathing. He’s staring at you, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nods. It’s the smallest, most reluctant gesture, but it’s enough to get the ball rolling.

Jaehyun, seeing the acceptance wash over Sunoo, lets out a harsh, shaky breath. “Okay. Okay. We can do this. We’ll…we’ll be quick, alright?”

But you all know there’s no way this will be quick. Not if you want him to live.

You scour the room, and Jaehyun eventually finds a rusted metal spoon, one he skidded across the floor in the manic panic of the last task. He holds it up, his hand trembling as he looks at it with disgust. The idea of using something so crude for this…it’s unthinkable. But you have no other choice.

Sunoo is seated against the wall, his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them tightly. His breathing is uneven, and the tears have dried on his cheeks but his quivering lips tells you the fear he’s feeling.  His eyes are wide, staring off into space as if he’s trying to disassociate, trying to be anywhere but here. He knows what’s coming, and the terror is palpable and paralysing.

Quickly, Jaehyun places the spoon in your hand, dissolving himself of all responsibility in the matter. You don’t argue with him about it though, deciding that at least you can show some compassion in the moment, unlike someone…

“Sunoo, we’re going to do this together, okay? You’re not alone.” Your voice wavers, barely able to keep steady under the pressure.

He doesn’t respond at first, his gaze locked on the floor. But finally, he nods weakly. He looks up at you, eyes glistening with tears. “Just…do it quickly, please…”

You give him a reassuring - if be it fake - nod, but your hands begin to mirror hisnshaking form as you hold the spoon, the weight of what you’re about to do making your entire body feel cold. Jaehyun stands over you, watching intently.

“We have to be careful,” Jaehyun mutters, his voice strained. “We can’t mess this up.”

Ignoring Jaehyun, you and Sunoo look into one another's souls, knowing that there’s no careful way to do this. It’s going to hurt, no matter what.

Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself, and gently place your hand on the side of his head, positioning him. His breath hitches at your touch, and you can feel him trembling beneath your fingers, vibrations trepidation making your hand unsteady. You hate yourself for what you’re about to do to this innocent little lamb, but there’s no going back.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice cracking, and then you bring the spoon to his eye. “I am so, so sorry, baby.”

The second the cold metal touches his skin, Sunoo jerks instinctively, letting out a strangled whimper. “No… no… please-”

“It’ll be over soon!” Jaehyun snaps, his voice tight with panic and impatience. He isn’t a nurturing person, you can tell that much about the enigmatic man, but you guess he is trying to soothe the boy in his own, fucked up way.

You press the spoon against his lower eyelid, feeling the resistance as it digs into his flesh. Blood wells up immediately, dark and thick, as you force the spoon deeper, pushing it into the socket. Sunoo’s screams fill the room, high-pitched and desperate, his body convulsing in pain.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry! Shhh,” you let a few tears fall, voice jittering as you work, your hands slick with his blood which now drips freely from the socket. The flesh tears as you force the spoon in deeper, scraping against bone and wiggling it around to break the tether, until you feel the pop - the horrifying, wet pop - of his eye dislodging from the socket.

Sunoo’s screams reach a fever pitch, his hands clawing at the ground and your chest, his entire body thrashing in agony. Blood pours from his ruined eye, streaming down his face in thick rivulets, soaking his clothes, those cute characters on his hoodie now looking like they’ve failed to survive a Jason Voorhees attack.

You force yourself to keep going, tears blurring your vision, and with a sickening squelch, you pull the eyeball free, catching it in your hand as it flies free from its home. Blood drips from the dangling nerve, pooling on the floor as Sunoo’s sobs turn to broken gasps, his body convulsing in shock and pain. The once-beautiful eye now sits useless and mutilated.

“There…there…” you whisper, voice shaking. But it’s far from over.

With nervous fingers, you reach into the hollow space behind his eye, feeling the sticky, wet mess of blood and tissue. You dig deeper, wincing at the sound of Sunoo’s raw, guttural cries, apologising profusely along the way, until your fingers brush against something cold and hard.

The key.

Sunoo's soft, pitiful sobs bounce around the room as you lean closer, brushing your lips against his forehead and trailing down to kiss away the tears that spill from his remaining eye. His whole body trembles beneath you, the shock of the impromptu surgery overwhelming him, and you feel a fierce protectiveness welling up inside you. He’s like your little brother, fragile and broken, and all you want to do is shield him from the horrors that keep crashing down on him.

You whisper soothing words, your hands gently cradling his head, but it does little to comfort him. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, each one laboured as he fights to keep his grip on reality. You stroke his hair, once blonde now dying red with the blood on your hands.

Jaehyun, meanwhile, is moving swiftly. He yanks the other keys from Sunoo’s blood-soaked pocket, his face a mask of determination, and then reaches out to take the key you’re still holding, your fingers slick with blood. His hand lingers for just a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as if to say ‘good job’, but the compliment lacks conviction. He just wants out of here, and granted you do to, but a little sympathy for the boy in your arms wouldn’t go amiss.

The metal locks clink against each other as he hurriedly makes his way to the box and tries each key, his hands shaking but focused. He jams the first key into the lock, twists it with a click, and tosses it aside. The second follows suit, then the third, each unlocking with a sharp clank that reverberates through the room. Your heart pounds in your chest with every click, the sound marking your descent deeper into this nightmare.

When he reaches the final key - the one you pulled from behind Sunoo’s eye - he hesitates, his thumb brushing over the bloodied surface. He turns to look back at Sunoo, whose broken body is slumped against the wall, pale and drenched in blood. Sunoo’s single eye is half-closed as he fights the sleep that pulls him. Jaehyun’s jaw tightens, and then with a final, decisive twist, he unlocks the last lock and throws the box open.

Inside, the contents are far from what any of you expected. A thin, transparent tube lies coiled neatly next to a length of what looks like wire - flimsy, almost like dental floss. Jaehyun’s face contorts in confusion as he pulls them out, holding the tube and wire up to the dim light.

“What the fuck? How are we supposed to get blood with this?” he mutters, examining the odd materials in his hands. His voice wavers slightly, betraying the exhaustion and frustration that’s building beneath the surface.

You tear your gaze away from Sunoo’s spent body, trying to focus on what Jaehyun is holding and your mind races, trying to make sense of the strange tools laid out before you. Honestly, you expected a knife or a saw, but not this.

Sunoo, still groggy and weak from the pain, turns his head toward Jaehyun, squinting with his one remaining eye. He looks disoriented, his face pale and drawn, but his voice comes out in a weak rasp. “Put the tube…in my socket…” His words are a breathless whisper, as though each one costs him more strength than he has to give.

“There’s not enough blood in there, baby,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice calm, though every part of you is screaming. “We need more than that…” You pause, staring at the box, dread curling in your stomach. “What does it say on the box?” you ask, hoping there’s some instruction that might make this clearer. “How deep is it?”

Jaehyun glances down at the lid of the box, his brows furrowing as he reads the small print engraved there. His lips tighten as he processes it. “It says…the container can hold 1 litre.”

Your heart sinks at the words. A litre of blood. That’s more than any eye socket could ever give, no matter how gruesome the idea. You cast another glance at the tube in Jaehyun’s hand, and that horrible idea solidifies even further in your mind. You’d need to draw blood directly from someone’s veins, from their body - slowly, methodically, until the box fills with enough to unlock the next stage.

“Jesus…” Jaehyun mutters, running a hand through his hair. His eyes dart back to Sunoo, then to you. “We need to decide. There’s no other way, is there?”

You shake your head, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a boulder. “No. There isn’t.”

Sunoo turns his head slightly, trying to make sense of what you’re saying, his face drenched with sweat as he goes through a cold flush. He’s still coming to terms with the loss of his eye, his body limp from the trauma, but he knows there’s more to this task and he has to push through.

His lips part as if he’s going to say something, but no words come out at first. His breath is ragged, and for a moment, you think he might pass out from the stress. But then, he swallows, his throat bobbing, and he looks at you, resignation written all over his face.

“I’ll…I’ll do it,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “If it’s…if it’s the only way…”

“Sunoo, no-” You start to protest, but the look he gives you is so filled with sorrow and determination that it makes your heart break all over again.

“I can,” he breathes, shaking his head weakly. “I’m already…dead anyway. It might as well be me…”

Jaehyun steps forward, his eyes softening as he kneels beside Sunoo. “We’re not asking you to die, Sunoo. We just need enough blood to get through this. We’ll stop before it’s too much, alright?” His voice is low, almost gentle, trying to reassure him, but you can see the strain on his face. 

None of you are sure how far this will go.

Sunoo takes a shuddering breath and closes his eye, giving the faintest of nods. He knows there’s no escape, no mercy here, and it crushes your soul to see him like this. You can only begin to imagine how vibrant and charismatic he is outwith the circumstances.

You carefully wipe the blood from his cheek and cradle his face in your hands. You can feel his body trembling beneath your fingers, the fear coursing through him and shock from the blood loss overtaking his nerves, but he’s trying to be brave. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again, voice breaking. You wish there were something else you could say, something more you could do to make this easier. But there’s nothing.

“If you make it out, can you…please tell my mum I love her?” It’s a simple last request, but one that tugs at your heartstrings.

Tell my mum I love her. Such a simple, human request - one that breaks you more than any of the blood and horror surrounding you. You press your forehead against his gently, tears brimming in your eyes as you try to find some semblance of strength to give him the answer he needs, even if you are unsure about the fate.

“You’ll tell her yourself, Sunoo,” you whisper back, though the words feel hollow even as you say them. You both know the chances are slim but you cling to the lie because the truth is too unbearable.

His lips quiver, and for a moment, he tries to offer you a smile but it falters before it fully forms. Instead, his eye glimmers with dread and tears, his breath shallow as each exhale hitches painfully in his chest.

“We…we can do this,” you continue, voice shaking. “We can cut through your leg with the wire. I saw it in a movie once.” You don’t know if the suggestion is even realistic, but the desperation in your voice makes it sound plausible - you suppose anything can be justified if it means surviving this. “There’s a lot of blood in the leg…and then we can tourniquet it. We can use Jaehyun’s tie and wrap it around tightly to stop the blood after we fill that stupid box.”

Sunoo’s eye widens, the reality of what you’re suggesting setting in. His whole body tenses, his remaining hand clutching weakly at your sleeve, holding onto you for some last semblance of comfort. The fear is obvious in him, but so is his trust in you. It’s the worst thing - knowing he trusts you to guide him through this but also knowing you’re about to lead him into more pain.

“I know,” you murmur, brushing your thumb against his blood-smeared cheek. “I know it sounds fucking awful and scary…but I promise I’ll stop the bleeding before anything bad happens, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

His chest shudders with a sharp, ragged breath, already foreshadowing his fate with a death rattle. Still, he gives a shallow but definitive nod; he’s surrendering to the outcome that has formed in his head, giving up his life for you and Jaehyun, and it breaks something in you.

Jaehyun watches from the side, his face a stony mask, though you can tell he’s struggling, the weight of what you’re about to do hanging over all of you all like a death sentence. He moves closer, his voice low and controlled, though there’s a slight undercurrent underneath it. “Let’s get it over with. The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be.”

You nod, trying to swallow down the bile rising in your throat. Jaehyun holds out the thin wire, its appearance belying the horrific task it’s going to perform.

Laying back against the wall, Sunoo’s body stiffen, his breaths coming in quick, panicked bursts. His lips are dry and cracked, his whole form trembles as the fear tears him apart from the inside.

“Sunoo,” you say softly, “look at me. Just focus on me, yeah? We’re going to get through this.”

His eye locks onto yours, wide and full of terror, but he nods weakly, his chest rising and falling erratically. His lips quiver, his breaths shallow and quick, as he braces himself for what’s coming next. 

You quickly take off his jeans, discarding them and gently lifting his thigh over the wire, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. The thought that in a few minutes his leg will be severed and bone sawed makes your hands shake, but you force yourself to keep moving. You can’t falter. Not now.

Jaehyun steps in to help, holding Sunoo’s ankle firmly and holding his leg in place. He glances at you, his jaw set. “Ready?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Let’s do this.” 

That might be the biggest lie you’ve ever said…or one of them at least.

“I’m so sorry, Sunoo,” you whisper, and with a deep breath, you begin to saw.

The wire digs into his flesh, slicing through the skin and muscle like a knife through butter, its flimsy appearance teaching you never to judge a book by its cover.

Sunoo screams - a raw, gritting sound that rips through the room, filling the air with his agony. The sound pierces you to your core, every second of his suffering echoing in your head as the wire cuts deeper, exposing the red tissue beneath the skin.

Blood spills instantly, thick and dark, pouring from the wound and pooling on the floor. It’s warm, sticky, and the metallic of it all stifles the room, making your stomach churn.

Sunoo thrashes in your grip, his hands clutching at the ground as his scream dissolves into sobs. He’s in agony and his body convulses as the wire digs deeper into his flesh. His face slick with sweat, his eye squeezed shut as he tries to block out the pain, but it’s useless. 

You keep pulling the wire back and forth, your hands covered in blood, trembling as the wire grinds through his leg, severing muscle, tendon, and bone. It’s a gruesome, horrific scene, the wet, squelching sound of flesh being torn apart filling your ears. 

“Hold on, Sunoo,” you whisper for his comfort, though your voice shakes. “Just a little longer…”

His cries are ragged and throat hoarse from screaming, his whole body is shaking violently, his face twisted in pain. You can see the life draining out of him, the blood loss taking its toll, and you know you have to act fast.

With a final, desperate pull, the wire severs through the leg with a sickening slce, and Sunoo’s leg comes free. His scream echoes through the room, a sound so full of pain and fright that it feels like it’s tearing your soul apart. 

Sunoo is barely conscious now, his body limp, his eye fluttering as he teeters on the edge of passing out. His breaths are shallow and rapid, and his face is ashen, the life draining from him with every second.

You drop the wire, horrified by what you’ve just done, but there’s no time to dwell on it because you have to finish this. You have to fill the box or it will all be for nothing.

Jaehyun grabs the tube, plunging it into the open wound, sucking on it to get the flow started,  and soon enough the blood begins to flow through it, filling the container. The sight of it makes your chest tighten but you force yourself to watch, to make sure it works. Thick and dark crimson pumps into the small tube you’ve inserted.

It starts slowly - drop by drop, the blood pooling in the bottom of the box, each splash of liquid a reminder of the life draining from him. It feels like time is slipping through your fingers, just like the life from Sunoo’s body. 

“Stay with me, Sunoo,” you whisper, voice breaking as the tears build in your eyes. You can barely see through them, but you refuse to let them fall. Not now. You reach out, carefully wiping away the blood thats still falling from his socket and smeared over his clammy skin.

Sunoo’s one good eye flutters weakly open, overridden with pain, yet still trying to focus on you. The sight of him like this - broken, scared - it tears at your heart in ways you can’t describe. “I’m sorry,” you say again, voice cracking under the weight of your guilt. You wish there was something, anything, that could make this easier, but there isn’t.

“Tell me it will be okay,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet the words hit you like a freight train. You swallow hard, a sob rising in your throat, but you push it down. You can’t promise him a lie, but you can’t vocalise the truth either.

You steal a glance at the box as the blood continues to flow into the container, the level slowly creeping higher. It’s almost full, almost there but it feels like it’s taking forever. And Sunoo…Sunoo is fading faster than you can process.

Jaehyun watches in tense silence, his knuckles white as he grips the tube, his face hard but his eyes betraying the same fear and helplessness you feel. His jaw clenches as he steals a look at Sunoo, then back at the box, calculating the blood flow, his mind racing against the ticking clock that seems to be counting down to Sunoo’s last breath.

Finally, the blood reaches the top of the container, the dark liquid filling it to the brim and Jaehyun curses under his breath, his eyes flickering to you, waiting for you to take the next step.

But Sunoo’s body has already gone limp. His breathing has slowed to a near stop.

“Sunoo…” you murmur, panic rising in your chest. You can’t lose him. Not after this. Not now.

“Quick!” you blurt, hands fumbling as you reach for the tie around Jaehyun’s neck. You pull it off in one fluid motion, shaking, and wrap it tightly around his leg, above the gaping wound. You’re gripping it so desperately that you lose sensation in your fingers, but the blood just keeps coming despite your efforts.

“Come on,” you beg, tears streaming freely now, desperate to stop the vicious flow of blood. “Please. Please just hold on!”

You knot the tie with shaking fingers, doing everything you can to slow the torrent, but it’s already too late. His body is cold beneath your hands and the life that was once in his eyes is slowly fading away.

The blood has poured out too quickly, too much of it lost in too short a time. You glance at the box and see it screaming victory - but at what cost? The success feels hollow, a sick joke in the face of Sunoo’s fading life.

“Sunoo, please…please stay with me. You’re going to be okay. You have to be…”

As you mutter the words, you can feel his body grow still, his breath stutters and falters. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your tears falling onto his cold cheek. You kiss away the blood and tears, desperate to bring him comfort, to let him know that he isn’t alone in these final moments.

Sunoo’s lips part, a faint sound escaping him, but it’s not a word - it’s just a weak, broken breath. His chest rises one last time, then falls with finality, and you feel the last of his warmth leave him.

“No…” Your voice is barely a whisper, breaking under the weight of your grief. You can’t look away from him, even as the silence fills the room, thick and suffocating.

Jaehyun steps back, his hands falling to his sides as he watches the scene unfold. The tie around Sunoo’s leg is soaked with blood, useless now and only acting as a symbol of your failure to save him. 

The door creaks open, signalling the end of the task, but there’s no relief, no victory. Only loss. Only the hollow, aching void left behind as Sunoo’s body lies motionless before you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper one last time, though it feels empty now. You hold onto him, even though he’s already gone, the weight of his loss crushing your chest, making it hard to breathe.

_______

The door that you hoped would lead to freedom opens into something far worse. Instead of the grim, blood-soaked chaos you’ve become accustomed to, you're met with a blinding light so harsh that it feels like needles piercing your eyes. 

You squint, trying to adjust, and the scene before you slowly comes into focus. It’s jarring - the sterile whiteness of the room, the gleaming tiles that cover the walls, floors, and ceiling, all so clean, so pristine, it feels unnatural. There's no trace of death here, no hint of the violence that has marred your every step. The air smells faintly of disinfectant, as though someone had meticulously scrubbed away any sign of life.

Your eyes are drawn to the centre of the room where a steel table sits. Its surface gleams and has two folding chairs on either side. The setting feels clinical, almost surgical, like a place where emotions have no home, and only cold, calculated decisions are made. 

As your vision clears fully, you notice something on the table. It stands out against the spotless surroundings, its presence contrasting. 

A gun. Black, sleek, and menacing, it rests atop the table like a predator waiting to strike. It glistens under the fluorescent lights, polished to perfection for this exact moment - a moment you don’t know if you’re prepared for.

Without hesitation, Jaehyun is the first to move. His eyes lock onto the weapon, drawn to it like a moth to a flame, his hand reaching out to grab it. His fingers are mere inches away when the room is filled with a slow, deliberate clap, echoing off the walls with a mockery that makes your stomach twist.

Both of you freeze, turning towards the sound, your hearts hammering in sync. There, stepping calmly into the room, is Jaeyun, the man responsible for all this suffering. But this time, he’s different. The game show host energy that once radiated from him has dimmed, replaced with an eerie calm. His movements are fluid and his face wears an expression of utter contentment. 

“Congratulations on making it this far,” he says smoothly, his voice carrying twisted pride. “It was a tough interview, huh?” His smirk widens as he speaks, his eyes flicking between you and Jaehyun, watching your reactions like a predator savouring its prey’s final moments.

The words hit Jaehyun like gasoline on fire. He sees red, the pent-up rage, fear, and exhaustion now coming to blow. With a feral growl, he lunges at Jaeyun, fists clenched, ready to pummel him into oblivion. But before he can reach him, Jaehyun’s body jerks violently. His scream of outrage is cut short and replaced with one of agony as he collapses to the ground, muscles spasming uncontrollably.

You stare in horror, your brain struggling to comprehend what the fuck just happened. Jaeyun’s face remains neutral and his expression almost bored as he watches Jaehyun writhe on the floor. He looks at you, shrugging with casual indifference. “You didn’t think I’d walk in here without some form of protection, did you?” His voice is soft and conversational, like he’s discussing the weather and not the violent collapse of the man before you.

Jaehyun’s body finally stills, but he’s left trembling on the ground. With sheer effort, he manages to push himself up onto his knees, his face contorted in pain and fury. 

“What the fuck was that?” he spits out, his tone raw with rage.

Jaeyun raises an eyebrow, almost amused by Jaehyun’s defiance. “Just a little insurance,” he says with a smirk. “A key in Sunoo’s eye wasn’t the only action my medical table got.”

You blink in confusion, trying to process his words. Jaeyun, ever the showman, sighs dramatically and points at the back of his neck. “I installed a little chip into each of you, right at the base of your skull. A ‘zapper,’ if you wanna call it that. I didn’t think I’d need to use it, but it’s nice to have, don’t you think? Keeps things…civilised.”

Digging his fingers into the back of his neck, Jaehyun’s expression twists with shock and anger. “You chipped us?” The words shake as he spits them out, his eyes wild with disbelief. “You’ve tortured us, and you’ve got the nerve to call this civilised?”

Jaeyun’s smirk widens, enjoying Jaehyun’s reaction. “Tortured? Naaah, torture is messy. I gave you choices. Every step of the way. This?” He points to Jaehyun’s shaking body. “This is just an incentive to play by the rules.”

“This is a fucking game to you,” Jaehyun growls through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

“It’s not a game, Jaehyun. It’s an interview. And you’ve done so well making it to the final round.” He gestures toward the gun resting on the table, its dark presence looming like a shadow over the room. “Call this the work trial.”

The silence that follows is thick, suffocating, as the weight of what comes next begins to sink in. You can feel the tension crackling in the air between the three of you, like a wire pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment. The gun, once a distant threat, now feels like an inevitability.

Jaeyun’s voice cuts through the tense silence, as smooth as ever. “Can you both take a seat, please?” 

You glance at Jaehyun, then at the gun resting ominously on the table, before you both lower yourselves into the cold metal chairs across from one another.

The gun, gleaming under the fluorescent light, is the unwelcomed third party in this macabre meeting. You can feel the weight of it, the way it pulls all the air out of the room, making it difficult to think or breathe. Across from you, Jaehyun is just as tense, his eyes flicking between you and the weapon. Although, while you’re scared of the outcome, Jaehyun looks determined, willing to do anything.

Jaeyun leans casually against the wall, arms crossed, observing the way you both wriggle in discomfort, a fun source of entertainment. “Now, this is the easiest task of all. No wicked schemes or brilliantly designed traps.” His tone is boastful, an artist revelling in his own masterpieces. “All you have to do…is shoot.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and cold like a death sentence. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, your gaze darting from Jaeyun to Jaehyun and back to the gun. There’s a pit forming in your stomach, because whatever happens next, you know you’re going to be unprepared every minute of it.

“The rules are simple,” Jaeyun continues, his voice disturbingly cheerful. “One of you picks up the gun and shoots the other. I need to make sure you’ll kill who I tell you to.” He pauses to gage your reactions, and when he sees your shaking hands and Jaehyun’s mutter of disbelief under his breath, there’s a mocking lilt to his voice. “C’mon, don’t make this harder than it needs to be, guys. I mean, you’ve already killed before, right, Jaehyun? Why hesitate now?”

Jaehyun freezes and face hardens as Jaeyun’s words strike a nerve. The shift is subtle, but you notice it - the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darken with something unreadable. You furrow your brow, confused and suspicious.

“What is he talking about?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your eyes search Jaehyun’s face, looking for answers, but he avoids your gaze, his shoulders tightening.

“Nothing,” Jaehyun mutters with his voice now gruff and defensive.

Jaeyun’s smile spreads wider, almost gleeful. “Oh, you wanna keep it a secret? Okay, that’s fine.” He lifts his hands in mock surrender, but his eyes are gleaming with malice. “But, Y/N, he has killed someone before. What’s to say he won’t do the same to you? You should consider taking the shot. Self-preservation, you know?”

With your mind swirling with doubt, you stare deep into the man’s deadpanned face. The Jaehyun you’ve fought beside, suffered with, suddenly seems like a stranger. To be fair, he is a stranger, yoy don’t know him from adam. 

Jaehyun’s fists clench on the table, his knuckles white. “Don’t listen to him,” he snaps, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “He’s just trying to get inside your head.”

“Am I?” Jaeyun’s tone is laced with cruel taunt now. He takes a step forward, his eyes shining with the pleasure of watching your doubt grow. “Or maybe I’m just telling the truth. I mean, how well do you know him? He’s desperate, Y/N. Desperate men will do anything to survive...ain’t that right, JaeJae?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jaehyun growls, obviously not content with the nickname nor the underlining accusations.

Jaeyun, of course, is unfazed, his smirk never faltering. “What’s wrong, Jaehyun? Can’t handle the truth?” He leans in slightly, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Face it - you’ll do anything to get ahead. All you have to do is pull that trigger, and you get to live. Easy, right?”

Every part of you wants to scream, to run, to make this nightmare end, but you’re trapped. Trapped between Jaeyun’s manipulations, Jaehyun’s anger, and the gun on the table.

For a moment, everything is still. Then Jaehyun moves.

In a blur of motion, Jaehyun’s hand shoots forward, grabbing the gun with a speed that startles you. He stands, his chair screeching as it scrapes against the floor, and before you can even react, he’s pointing the barrel straight at your head.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he strainly mutters, a hint of regret lacing his tone. “I’m more valuable alive than dead. I’ll make sure this bastard pays, for all of us.”

It doesn’t take him two seconds to pull the trigger, and the moment his does, time itself seems to slow. The world around you shrinks to the narrow tunnel of focus between you and the gun, its evil barrel aimed squarely between your eyes. 

The sterile white walls reverberate the sudden echo of violence, making the shot even louder, more deafening. The bright lights overhead seem to flicker for just a second, casting shadows across Jaehyun’s face as he stares at you, frozen in place. The gun in his hand shakes violently, his knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping it. 

For him, the world has gone silent. His ears are ringing, his heart pounding so loudly that he can hear absolutley nothing else.

You, however, remain perfectly still.

The moment stretches on forever. The smell of gunpowder lingers in the air, sharp and bitter, mingling with the sterile scent of the room. You watch Jaehyun’s face twist from anger and sorrow to confusion. His brows furrow and eyes deplete in size as the seconds tick by and the smoke from the gunshot dissipates. 

He blinks, disbelief spreading across his features. His chest rises and falls as the enormity of what should have just happened sinks in. Key word being should.

But you’re still there. Sitting calmly, untouched. Not a drop of blood, not a flicker of pain or fear on your face. In fact, there’s something else entirely.

Your lips part in a smile, a soft laugh bubbling up from deep inside you, completely at odds with the life-or-death moment that just unfolded. The sound cuts through the tension like a knife, light and eerie in the quiet aftermath of the shot. Jaehyun flinches at the noise, his eyes darting wildly between you and the weapon in his hand. His pulse quickens, his breath hitching, and you can see the tremor in his hand growing stronger as he tries to make sense of the situation.

He blinks again, harder this time, as if trying to wake himself from a nightmare. But no matter how much he wills it, you’re still sitting there, your expression composed, your eyes gleaming with something - something he can't quite place. It’s not fear. It’s not shock. It’s not even anger.

It’s amusement.

“What the hell…” he breathes, barely above a whisper. His words are broken, disjointed as his mind struggles to form any coherent thought. “I shot you. I…I shot you.”

You tilt your head, your smile widening as you lean back in your chair. There’s a smugness in your posture, a confidence that sends a chill down Jaehyun’s spine. His heart is racing, his chest tightening with a feeling he can’t quite describe. Fear? Confusion? Betrayal? Maybe all three.

“For a detective,” you murmur, your voice low and mocking, “you sure miss the mark.”

He stares at you like you’ve just spoken in a foreign language. “What-what are you talking about?” His voice wavers, the certainty he once had crumbling as the pieces of the puzzle scatter before him.

Your soft giggle echoes in the room again, and you watch as his hands shake, the gun slowly lowering from where it had been aimed at your head. He looks down at it, something he uses almost every day now something he can’t understand. 

“I don’t get it…” His voice is weak now, the bravado from moments ago completely gone. The gun in his hand feels heavy, useless almost. “Why are you - what’s going on?”

Before he can even gather a clump of understanding, Jaeyun’s lips brush against your head, soft and tender, the casual affection jarring against the brutal backdrop of the room,making Jaehyun wonder if it’s the smoke or the panic of the ‘work trial’ that’s making him see illusions.

"Good job, baby," Jaeyun murmurs, his words oozing with pride.

“Baby?” Jaehyun echoes, his voice strangled with disbelief.

You stand up slowly, brushing off your clothes and shaking off the last remnants of the innocent facade you wore. Now, you’re free to reveal the truth, and the satisfaction rolls off you in waves. You tilt your head, eyes shining as you lock onto his shattered expression. “What?” you ask, pouting in mockery. “Didn’t suspect me? This is why you’re so terrible at your job, Detective Jeong.”

Jaehyun’s face twists in horror as your words settle in. You were in on this. All of it. “What sick joke is this?” he growls, desperation creeping into each syllable, thick and bitter.

You giggle at his choice of words, filling the sterile room with an eerie playfulness that makes the bewildered man’s skin crawl. "Sick? I don’t know if I’d call it sick.” You glance over at Jaeyun, who’s watching with an amused smirk, before turning back to Jaehyun. "It's so fucking funny from where I’m standing."

Jaehyun’s body jerks as he tries to push himself to his feet, the fire of defiance still burning inside him. But Jaeyun casually pulls out the small remote from his pocket and presses the button without hesitation once again. The sharp, electric snap crackles through the air, and Jaehyun screams just as before, collapsing back into his seat. His muscles lock, spasming as the shock courses through his nervous system.

Keeping his thumb on the button just a fraction longer than necessary, Jaeyun watches with an almost clinical detachment as Jaehyun’s body finally stills. His breath is ragged, and he coughs, choking on the pain. “W-why?” he hisses out, his voice barely more than a rasp, his whole body trembling from the shock.

You casually sit upon the steel table, crossing your legs with the same nonchalance you’d have if you were sitting in a café. Your smile is soft, almost affectionate, as you look down at him. "Well, I hate to pin blame on people, but this is actually your fault."

Jaehyun’s brow knit together, his mind struggling to process everything. "What...what do you mean? How the fuck is it my fault?" His voice is hoarse, broken.

“You see, we know how long you’ve been after Jaeyun. Two years, is it? You've been so relentless, so close, but never quite enough," you give as half an answer and keep your tone light, so scarily similar to Jaeyun’s, yet you sound more evil. Perhaps it’s because Jaehyun not 5 minutes ago had perceived you as a scared girl, trapped in a nightmare.

"My baby has been following you, actually. Quite closely. You spent years interviewing every possible witness, arresting suspects, trying to catch the ‘Midnight Murderer’ and yet, despite all your efforts, you couldn’t quite figure out who or where he was." You pause, watching as Jaehyun’s expression shifts, the pieces clicking together painfully. “Then, you got a tip that he was hiding in the Avenue Garage. You were so desperate for his blood, so eager to finally catch your big break, that you didn’t even question it. You just barged in and killed the first guy you saw.”

Jaehyun’s face pales, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes widen with realisation dawning slowly but surely, like a weight sinking into his gut. “No…” he breathes out, shaking his head, as if denying it could change the truth.

You lean in close, your lips dangerously close to his ear as you whisper, “But it wasn’t him, was it, Jaehyun? You knew it right after you pulled the trigger. The guilt hit you like a freight train, but yet, you still called it in. You claimed your hollow victory and got promoted from Officer to Detective.”

His eyes glaze over with the memory of that night - his hands trembling over the body of the man he killed, the overwhelming rush of panic and regret he’d shoved down deep just to survive the lie. It all happened so quickly, his head not thinking clearly - or practically not at all - just trying to find a means to justify his actions.

“And yet," Jaeyun pipes up, picking up the gun from the table and twirling it effortlessly in his fingers, "you couldn’t let me go, could you? You’ve been trailing me in secret, obsessed, haunted by the ghost of your mistake.” He chuckles darkly. “That’s why you answered the ad I so perfectly orchestrated to catch your interest. Cleaning up a ‘midnight mess,’ right?”

Jaehyun swallows thickly though his mouth is so dry it does nothing for him, his heart thudding in his chest. His worst fear, the nightmare he’s tried to bury is now staring him in the face. His entire career has been twisted into this sick, elaborate game. “So it’s both of you?” he croaks, voice trembling as he finally connects the dots.

“Oh, not me,” you giggle, twirling a lock of your hair with playful ease. “I’m a new-ish addition.”

“The best addition,” Jaeyun coos, kissing your temple and then your lips so lovingly you almost melt onto the table.

Jaehyun’s face contorts with disgust, his eyes darting between you and Jaeyun, trying to find some sense of logic in this twisted reality. “And how did he drag you into this?” he spits out, desperation bleeding through his words as he tries to prolong the conversation, desperately begging his mind for an idea that will help him escape out of this nightmare.

You lean closer, your breath fanning over his face, intimate and unnerving all at once. “Oh, it didn’t take much convincing,” you whisper, smirking as your eyes dart to Jaeyun. "He has a very persuasive tongue." You wink before sitting back up, taking the gun from Jaeyun’s hand with a playful twirl. “That, and, well...you killed my brother.”

“What? When…when did i-”

You smile sweetly, almost pitying the man before you. “That’s right, detective. The man you murdered in cold blood - he was my brother.”

The truth hits him like he just got punched by Muhammad Ali, and for the first time, Jaehyun feels truly, utterly defeated. You can see the exact moment Jaehyun breaks. His expression goes blank, his face ghostly pale as the truth settles over him, suffocating and inescapable. He opens his mouth to say anything but no words come. Because what can he say to a bereaved family member of a man whose blood is on his hands? 

"My brother was innocent, Jaehyun," you continue, and for the first time, your voice trembles, just a little. “He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A good man, with a family, with dreams.” You pause, staring at the floor in an attempt to find some strength there. “He wasn’t a criminal, wasn’t a part of anything dark or twisted, he didn’t even have a fucking parking ticket. But you didn’t care. You didn’t even stop to think. You were too blinded by your ambition, too eager to make a name for yourself. You saw a body, and you pulled the trigger. ”

Jaehyun winces as your words slap him straight across his cheek. His breath quickens, his mind racing back to that night, the moment he saw a shadow move in the dimly lit garage, the way his heart pounded in his ears. He hadn’t thought twice before firing. He couldn’t afford to. It was best for catching the Midnight Murderer, or so he told himself. But now, staring into your eyes - those eyes filled with fury and loss - he knows there’s no excuse that can absolve him.

“And after you killed him,” you whisper, your voice growing hard, “you didn’t even have the decency to admit your mistake. You lied. You built your career off of that lie. How does it feel, detective? Knowing that every time you got promoted, every time you were praised for your ‘brilliant work,’ it was all built on the blood of an innocent man? My brother has been painted a murderer all because of you.”

Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, forcing them down. You won’t cry. Not here. Not for him. Instead, you steel yourself, wrapping your pain in a cocoon of rage. 

Jaeyun who is standing just behind you, places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently as he grounds you and massaging the pain away as best he can. His touch sends a wave of warmth through your body, a reminder that you're not alone in this. You lean into him slightly, drawing strength from his presence.

Jaehyun’s voice finally breaks through the silence, shaky and weak. "So what now?" His voice is hollow, like he already knows the answer, but he asks anyway, clinging to the last shreds of hope. "You gonna kill me?"

You smile, a cold and calculating curve of your lips. “Better,” you say, that peak of vulnerability you showed now pushed back to make way for your wicked side to take over once again. “You’re going to kill yourself. And we’re going to watch.”

Jaeyun steps forward as you hop off the table, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close. He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin, his breath warm against your neck. “You did so well, my love,” he murmurs softly, nuzzling into your hair. His voice is sweet, intimate, that side of him reserved only for you.

Jaehyun stares at the two of you, his eyes widening in disbelief. “And if I don’t?”

Jaeyun chuckles softly against your skin, his lips brushing your ear as he replies, “Then we release all your dirty little cover-ups.” His voice is still blasé. “Because, Detective Jeong, there’s a lot more than just my girls’ brother.”

Jaehyun’s breath hitches, pinpointing the moment the words sink in - the moment he realises just how deep the hole he’s in really is. His mind races, replaying every cover-up, every questionable decision, every corner he cut to get to where he is. It wasn’t just your brother. There were others. He had made too many mistakes, too many wrong choices. And now they’ve all come to bite him in the ass.

"Did you think it was just my brother we knew about?" You ask, your tone deceptively light as you tilt your head and study his expression, watching the colour drain from his face. "No, Jaehyun. You’ve been sloppy. So many good people - innocent people - fell because of you. We have everything. All the proof. Every lie, every falsified report, every life ruined by your hands. And all we have to do is press send."

Jaehyun’s eyes widen in terror. “No,” he breathes, his voice cracking. He starts to shake his head, as if denying it could somehow make it untrue. "Please…no."

“You could’ve stopped after my brother. You could’ve fixed it. But you didn’t. You kept going. You chose this.”

Trembling now, the detective’s entire body shaking with the weight of his sins. He swallows thickly, mind spinning as he desperately tries to find a way out, but there’s no escape. Not now. Not anymore. If he refuses, his entire career, his reputation, everything he’s built will go up in flames. And the world will know him for what he truly is - a fraud, a murderer.

“You never wanted this life, did you, Jaehyun?” you whisper, your voice soft, almost sympathetic. “You wanted to be a hero. But somewhere along the way, you got lost. You let the pressure, the ambition, the fear of failure consume you. You couldn’t afford to make mistakes, right? But the mistakes just kept piling up.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his hands fisting in his hair, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I didn’t…I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just…I couldn’t-"

“You couldn’t afford to be wrong,” you finish for him, nodding as if you understand. “But now, there’s no way out. You have two choices, Jaehyun. Kill yourself, or we expose you for what you really are. Either way, your life is over.”

Jaeyun moves around you, stepping toward Jaehyun with a cold, predatory smile. He kneels down in front of him, swapping the blanks for real bullets in the magazine of the pistol. “You see, Detective, you’ve already lost. The only decision left is how much pain you want to feel on the way out.

Every instinct in Detective Jeong screams to fight, to resist, but deep down, he knows. He knows there’s no escaping this. His hands shake violently, the weight of his choices now crushing him.

“You’re fucking monsters. How dare you lecture me when you kill innocent people all the time! It’s hypocritical!”

A cold laugh escapes your lips and you step closer, leaning down so you’re eye-level with him, letting your eyes glimmer with a blend of amusement and scorn. “Hypocritical? Oh, hun, we kill for fun, we know we are evil. But you act innocent, gain from the lives you steal. You’ve made your entire career on the backs of the dead and innocent. You’re the real monster.”

Jaehyun’s breath hitches, and for a moment, you think you see regret flicker in his eyes, but it’s quickly swallowed by anger. “I had no choice! I was trying to do my job! You think I wanted this?” His voice rises, the desperation spilling out of him like a dam bursting. “You think I wanted to become what I am? I didn’t know it was him! I didn’t-”

“Exactly,” you interrupt sharply, straightening up. “You didn’t know because you didn’t care enough to find out. You were too busy fucking chasing glory, too focused on your own pathetic ambition to see the truth right in front of you. But now you have a choice to make, and this time, it’s not about your career. It’s about your life.”

“So, this is it?” he rasps, his voice cracking under the strain. “You think you can just toy with me and I’ll roll over?”

“Toy with you?” You scoff, placing a hand on Jaeyun’s arm, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. “No, this is about consequences, Jaehyun. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and whether that means taking the easy way out or letting us destroy you…well, that’s entirely up to you.”

Jaehyun’s hands shake as he grips the gun tighter, his knuckles going white. “I can’t-”

“But you can,” Jaeyun interrupts smoothly, lowering himself closer, the gun now resting against his thigh. “You can end this, Detective. You can make this your final act of bravery. You can take the burden off your shoulders.”

“And leave you both unscathed? You think I’ll just sacrifice myself to protect your twisted little game?” Jaehyun sneers, his voice gaining a hint of strength. But it’s a facade, a last-ditch effort to regain control.

“Oh, it’s not about protecting us,” you say, tilting your head slightly, a smirk tugging at your lips. “It’s about protecting yourself. The truth will come out eventually. Your secrets will spill, and trust me, it won’t be pretty. If you have any semblance of dignity left, this is your best option. But if you refuse,” you lean in, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “you’ll find yourself at the center of a scandal bigger than you could ever imagine. Your career will go up in flames, and you’ll be left with nothing but the ghosts of those you’ve wronged.”

You step back, glancing at Jaeyun, who is watching Jaehyun with a predatory gaze, a hint of excitement dancing in his eyes. “So, what will it be, Detective?”

You wave the gun in Jaehyun’s face, your movements slow and deliberate, offering him a priceless gift. His eyes follow the barrel intently as it sways in front of him. Shame flickers in his expression, but it’s quickly replaced by something darker - his pride, rising like a beast refusing to be caged.

His mind is a battlefield, caught between the unbearable truth of his crimes and the desperate need to preserve the image he’s built. Hero. Detective. A man untainted by the blood on his hands. He’d rather die with that lie intact than face the disgrace of being unmasked as a villain.

His shaking hand reaches out, fingers ghosting over the cool metal of the gun you’re dangling before him. He takes it, trembling as though the weight of the weapon is the weight of all his lies finally coming back to take revenge. 

As he raises the barrel under his chin, pressing it to the fragile skin there, his eyes glisten, but whether it’s from fear or a final surge of regret, you can’t tell.

Jaeyun watches him with quiet fascination and joy, his lips curling into a cruel smile. There’s no sympathy in the room, only cold satisfaction as Jaehyun contemplates his final act. 

You and Jaeyun exchange a mocking glance, and then you lift your hands, giving a small, sarcastic wave. “Goodbye, Detective~” you mock in sing song.

Jaehyun’s grip tightens, his knuckles paling. His teeth grit together as his finger hesitates on the trigger, the seconds dragging out like an eternity. His face twists into a mask of anger and despair - remorse simmering just beneath the surface, but drowned out by the relentless need to protect his pride. 

“I hope you both fucking rot in hell.”

With one last shuddering breath, he pulls the trigger.

The gunshot echoes through the room, deafening in its finality. His body jerks, his head snapping back as blood and bone splatter the walls behind him. He collapses in a lifeless heap, eyes still open, reflecting the briefest remnants of the man he was - or pretended to be.

As the bounce of the gunshot fades into silence, you finally let out a long, shuddering breath. All the tension that had built up over the course of this cat and mouse game unravels, leaving you feeling light, almost weightless. It’s finally fucking over. You can hardly believe it. 

Jaeyun spins you around, his hands gentle as they pull you away from the gruesome sight, forcing your gaze away from Jaehyun's crumpled body. His expression softens, a loving twinkle in his eyes. “How do you feel, baby?” 

The sense of victory allows a grin to stretch across your face as you finally allow yourself to revel in it. “Fucking fantastic,” you reply, the words leaving your lips in a breathless rush. 

You can’t believe you survived - not just this, but everything that came before. All the games, all the manipulation, all the close calls. Deep down, you know Jaeyun would’ve never let anything happen to you, not really. Worst-case scenario, he’d have stepped in, come up with some excuse to save you. But now, knowing Jaehyun is gone, and your brother’s death is finally avenged, you feel truly free.

Jaeyun’s eyes gleam with approval, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You were really good in there,” he murmurs, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I almost believed you were scared for your life.”

You chuckle, looping your arms around his neck, leaning in closer. “I really got into the acting,” you admit with a teasing smirk. Then you tilt your head, feigning a pout. “But did you really have to knock me out, though?”

Your boyfriend’s grin widens as he leans in, stealing a quick kiss that leaves you giddy. It’s exactly what you needed - this closeness, this moment of calm in his arms. You had missed him, and even though you’d only been apart for two days, it felt like too long. 

“It’s all part of the experience, baby,” he whispers against your lips, his voice playful. His hands rest at your waist, pulling you close as his warmth melts away the last remnants of tension.

“It feels so much more vindicating when there’s a reason behind it,” you murmur slyly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. For months, you’ve been trying to shape Jaeyun’s approach to this game. Killing for no reason is great and all, but taking down people who deserve it - those who harass or harm others - that’s a thrill with purpose.

Jaeyun rolls his eyes, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “Are you telling me that seeing Heeseung’s head explode or Dayoung’s neck snap wasn’t entertaining?” His eyebrow arches in challenge, already well aware of how much you enjoyed yourself. No one else in that room had a clue, but Jaeyun knows you too well. He knows the rush you get from this, the thrill of taking control.

When he first met you, he saw it - that sadness buried deep within. He knew how to turn it into something else, something darker but freeing. He twisted your pain into anger, and then into joy, showing you how much fun life could be when you channel your rage outward. He’s been there with you ever since, your partner in every sick trap.

You can’t help but laugh, the memory of the ‘interview’ sending a spark of excitement through you. “Okay, okay,” you admit with a wide grin. “I loved it, especially the crucifix. You didn’t tell me you were going to add that!”

Jaeyun chuckles, leaning in to plant soft kisses along your nose, your cheek, and then your lips, each one a tender reminder of his adoration and pride. “Thought I’d surprise my baby since I know it’s your favourite,” he whispers between kisses. “But seriously, good work on speeding it up, that was clever.”

His praise sends a warm flush to your cheeks, though it’s hidden beneath the dried blood that still clings to your skin. “I remember you teaching me how it works,” you say modestly, still basking in his approval. Then a frown touches your lips, and you pout slightly. “I feel bad for Sunoo though. He was so sweet.”

“Yeah, he was cute,” Jaeyun agrees, shrugging slightly, brushing off the death of yet another innocent. He doesn’t care about people. Not unless it’s you, you are the only one in this world that gets to feel his heart beating.

He reaches down, casually plucking the gun from Jaehyun’s cold hand, inspecting it for a moment before glancing back at you. “C’mon, we should clean up.”

“Or…” your voice drops into a whisper, playful and suggestive as you jump on the table and spread your legs, giving Jayeun a clear signal.

The change in his demeanour is immediate. His eyes darken, trailing over your body with a hungry intensity that makes your pulse race. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, hard enough to show he’s seriously considering your offer. “I always forget how needy you get after a game,” he teases, his voice low and laced with desire as he steps toward you.

He’s right, the rush of excitement and adrenaline always does this. You remember the first time you watched him kill, how it awakened something in you, that desperate need to have him right there and then. The blood dripping from his fingers, the splatter across his face…you’d never seen him look more beautiful.

That’s when it hit you. All those dark romances you devoured, Rina Kent’s books that filled your mind with dangerous fantasies, altered your brain chemistry in ways you hadn’t expected. Maybe that’s why it hadn’t taken long for Jaeyun to pull you into his wicked world. 

Or maybe you’re just really fucked in the head.

Jaeyun’s eyes gleam with dark amusement, fully aware of what’s racing through your mind. His confidence radiates as he steps between your legs, his lips hovering inches above yours. “What’s it gonna be, baby?” he whispers, his voice a low, seductive drawl, dripping with intent.

Feigning thoughtfulness, you tilt your head, looking off into the distance as if contemplating his question. But it’s just an act, one he knows too well. You feel the corners of your lips twitch upward before your entire expression shifts. Your eyes lock with his and a smirk etches on your lips as you slowly reach for the gun, your fingers grazing the metal. You bring it to your lips, the weight of it pressing against your mouth.

Jaeyun’s breath hitches and his throat bobs, eyes following your every move with rapt attention. You tilt your head slightly, letting your tongue slip out, brushing over the sleek barrel. The taste of cold steel and blood floods your senses as you drag your tongue teasingly, savouring how his eyes darken with every secondof your display. His gaze is glued to your lips, watching intently as you lick the gun, your lips grazing over the tip, his cock twitching in jealousy.

You open your mouth, taking the barrel between your lips, wrapping them around the gun with a sensual slowness that has Jaeyun’s chest rising and falling faster. The sight of you, so bold, so shameless, has him swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly as he tries to keep sane and not rip your clothes off right here and now.

His breath becomes ragged, gaze locked on how your lips wrap perfectly around the barrel. You pull back slightly, your tongue flicking over the metal one last time before your lips curl into a wicked smile. “I think I’ve made my choice,” you whisper, voice sultry and teasing.

"Oh yeah? Tell me, baby," Jaeyun murmurs, his smile widening as if he already knows exactly what you’re about to do. 

Your hands move with purpose, putting the gun in his hands. Slowly, you guide it down your body, the metal pushing past your main organs, sending shivers through you. The exhaustion from the game still clings to your muscles, a dull ache in your bones, but none of that matters. Not now. Not when the thrill of Jaehyun’s death and the freedom it brings pulses through you.

Plus, all you can think about is Jaeyun - his touch, his heat, and the way his eyes devour every movement you make. His hands tighten their grip on your thighs, fingers pressing into your skin as he gets worked up in excitement over what is about to happen.

He is so fucking lucky he found you.

As the gun reaches just above your aching heat, The tension between you intensifies, each breath you take beaming with excitement. The gun is more than a weapon in his hands because right now it’s an extension of the fun you’re both going to have.

His gaze flickers back to you, eyes dark with intent as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants. Without a word, he pulls them to the side, exposing you to the cool air. A shiver runs through you, but it’s not from the chill - it’s from the way Jaeyun looks at you, relishing in every second, every inch of you.

The barrel of the gun slides between your legs, the surface brushing against your heat. The contrast between your warmth and the icy, hard steel is electrifying, making the moment more intense. A low moan slips from your lips, your thighs instinctively parting wider like a silent prayer for more.

Jaeyun leans in, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “You love this, don’t you?” His words are lustful, knowing exactly how much you crave what’s coming next. His lips graze your earlobe before he pulls back just enough to watch your reaction, the smirk on his face deepening as your chest rises and falls with anticipated breath.

Without another word, he tilts the gun to press gently against your entrance, teasing you. You can’t help the way your body reacts - hips lifting, muscles tightening because you want nothing more than to have this gun shoved deep inside of you. Jaeyun holds you steady, fingers digging into your thigh as he slowly pushes the gun into your cunt.

The metal stretches you, the sensation making you gasp and your body instinctively tensing as you adjust to the intrusion.

The feel is foreign, dangerous, and exhilarating all at once. The weight of the gun inside you is unlike anything else, making you feel a twisted pleasure that only Jaeyun can swirl inside of you. The cold metal slides deeper and a tremor of pleasure ripples through your core.

“Oh god…Jaeyun…” you moan out, hips bucking up to let the pistol slip in deeper.

Jaeyun watches you, eyes locked on the way your body responds to his every movement, his lips parting slightly as he savours every moan, every shiverbhe’s drawing from your perfect body. His control is maddening, slow and deliberate as he moves the gun in and out of you, pushing just deep enough to make you ache for more but never fully giving in.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. His eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you fall apart under his touch, his thumb brushing against your clit, adding just enough pressure to make your back arch off the table. “No one else could handle this. Could handle me.”

Your mind is hazy, overwhelmed by the feeling of the gun filling you, stretching you, while his thumb expertly circles your swollen clit. Every movement sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, the tension in your body building as Jaeyun continues his torturous pace.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice dark and possessive. His hand tightens on your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh as he thrusts the gun deeper, the grooves of the gun dragging along your tight walls and you gasp, your body trembling with the intensity of it. The mixture of the gun inside you and his thumb on your clit is almost too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re always gonna be mine.”

Hiis smirk widens as he watches the way your trying to fuck yourself on the pistol and match his rhythm. “Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride and desire. “Look at you, falling apart on my gun.”

The click of the safety being pulled off fills the room, adding a harmony to your moans and the thrill of danger just turned up to 100. There’s something about being on the end of a fully loaded gun, no safety, and your boyfriend’s finger on the trigger that makes you squeeze and suck in the barrel deeper.

It’s reckless, scary, and everything you could ever want.

You’re completely at his mercy now and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your legs begin to rise as you lean back, searching for a deeper angle, which Jaeyun happily gives you, twisting the pistol with each thrust inside of you.

You grip the edge of the table, knuckles white as your body tenses, the heat pooling in your core ready to erupt. Jaeyun’s heart picks up pace as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours, barely a whisper of a kiss. “Cum for me, baby.”

And you do.

The pleasure surges through you like a tidal wave, crashing over every part of your body, leaving you breathless and gasping for air. The combination of the weapon deep inside you and Jaeyun's thumb working expertly against your clit sends you spiralling into a blissful frenzy. You feel the tension coil tightly in your core, your stomach twitching with each pulse of your orgasm.

“That's it,” Jaeyun encourages, his words vibrating through you, adding to the delicious intensity of your release. “Let it go, baby. I want to see you shake for me.”

A cry escapes your lips, a mix of pleasure and relief as you lose yourself completely in the moment. You can’t hold back, not when he’s watching you so intently, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction.

Your back arches off the table, and for a brief moment, the world around you fades into nothing but the pure bliss that consumes you. Every inch of your body tingles, pulsing with the aftershocks of your climax, and all you can think about is Jaeyun and the way he makes you feel - like you’re both powerful and utterly vulnerable at the same time.

As your body starts to settle, Jaeyun doesn’t stop. He maintains his rhythm, thrusting the gun inside you a little faster, a little deeper, as he prolongs your high, milking every last drop of pleasure from you. “Look at you,” he breathes, his voice thick with lust. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come apart like this. Just for me.”

You moan in response, the sound escaping you unbidden as you feel another wave of pleasure cresting, threatening to pull you under once more. Jaeyun’s fingers work tirelessly, teasing your clit, drawing out the remnants of your orgasm as the intensity builds again. The world around you fades further, Jaehyun’s body long forgotten, and it’s just the two of you - lost in your own wicked game.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration and need. “I can’t get enough of you.” He leans in closer, his lips finding yours, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss that sends sparks flying through your body. You can taste the lingering traces of adrenaline and excitement on his tongue, and it only deepens your desire.

Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you pull him closer, desperate for more of him. The gun, once a symbol of your wild game, fades into the background, eclipsed by an undeniable craving for his body. Each thrust blurs the line between pleasure and pain, sending thrilling sensations coursing through you.

“Jaeyun,” you gasp against his lips, your voice barely a whisper, heavy with desperation. “Please…”

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes darkened with a mix of passion and mischief. “Please what?” he teases, a smirk curling his lips that sends a shiver cascading down your spine.

“More,” you breathe, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer, each syllable thick with longing. “I need more. I want you - your cock, please, give me your cock.” The urgency in your voice is embarrassing as it rises, a fire igniting deep within you. “I need you to fuck me.”

“Is that really how you want it, baby?” His voice is a low growl, sultry and commanding, wrapping around you like a velvet chain, tethering you to him for life. “Beg for it.”

Your breath hitches, excitement flooding your veins as you lock your gaze with his. “Jaeyun, please,” you plead, not even wasting a minute. You need his cock and you need it now. “I can’t get enough of you. I want you to fill me up, ruin me, do whatever you want with me. I’ll do anything - just don’t hold back.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, and you can see the hunger in his eyes, the way your desperation ignites something primal within him. “That’s what I like to hear,” he growls, his voice thick with lust and possessiveness. “You’re so beautiful when you’re begging.”

With that, he pulls back, putting the gun back on safety and tossing it on the table, it’s work done for the day. His hands fumble with his jeans as he pushes them down along with his boxers, both just sitting at his thighs. 

Gripping your hips as he positions himself at your entrance. “Say it again,” he commands, his tone firm yet teasing. “Beg for me to take you.”

“I need you, Jaeyun, fuck,” you cry out, feeling the heat pool low in your belly. “I need you inside me. Please, don’t hold back. I want to feel every inch of you.”

His breath hitches at your words, and with a fierce intensity, he thrusts into you, filling you to the brim, his tip kissing into your cervix straight away. A gasp escapes your lips as you adjust to him, the delicious stretch making your head spin. “God, yes,” you moan, your body arching toward him, urging him to move faster. 

Jaeyun grits his teeth, his eyes locked on yours as he begins to thrust, hard and deep. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice thick with desire. “You’re mine, all mine.” Each thrust drives you higher, the heat pooling in your core as he takes you further into ecstasy.

“Jaeyun, yes!” you cry out, your body responding eagerly to his every movement. The thrill of his control, the way he possesses you completely, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, and you can’t help but beg for more. “Please, don’t stop!”

He responds with a wicked grin, increasing his pace and angling your hips as he drives deeper into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “That’s it, baby. Let go. I want to hear you scream for me.”

With every powerful buck of his hips, the table rattles, mirroring your trembling form. You can feel the pressure building again, the heat pooling in your belly as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s drawing from you. 

The gun is great, but your man will always be better.

“Cum for me again, baby” he urges, his voice low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. “I want to feel you squeeze me.”

With his words echoing in your ears, you surrender completely, spiralling into ecstasy as your body convulses around him. Your scream fills the air, raw and unrestrained, as the world explodes into a kaleidoscope of colours. He’s the best fuck you’ve ever had, and you’re hoping he’ll be the only one from now on.

You love him, every disgusting, brutal, tender, imprefect, beautiful piece of him. 

Jaeyun groans in response, his grip tightening on your hips as he feels you clench around him, lost in the moment. “Yes, just like that,” he praises, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking perfect.” 

As the aftershocks of your climax ripple through you, he doesn’t relent, maintaining his powerful rhythm as he pushes you higher and higher. You can feel yourself teetering on the brink once more, the world fading away as all that matters is the connection between you. His kisses are cleaning up the blood from your face and his hands are massaging your aching bones as he piledrives into you.

He leans down, pressing his lips against your ear, his voice a low growl laced with affection. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just keep letting go.” His words send shivers down your spine, a mixture of dominance and tenderness that makes your heart race.

“Jaeyun,” you moan, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through you. “I’m yours. I love you so much.”

His grip on your hips becomes almost possessive, yet there’s a warmth in his hold that reassures you. “That’s right,” he whispers, a grin tugging at his lips as he drives deeper, his thrusts growing more urgent, more passionate. “You’re fucking perfect for me. The only one in this world that deserves to live.”

Jaeyun doesn’t know if he believes in love, or if he’s even capable of producing that emotion, but he thinks he found it in you. You’re the only shining light in this shitty world, you’re his everything.

The combination of his strength and the tenderness in his voice makes you feel cherished even as he claims you. You can feel the familiar knot tightening within you, your instincts taking over as you arch your back, pushing against him, begging for everything he has to offer. “Please, Jaeyun! Don’t stop! I’m so close!”

He rewards your eagerness with a low growl, quickening his pace as he drives deeper into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Let go, baby. You’ve earned all of this,” he urges you on.

And then, with one last powerful thrust, the pressure within you snaps, and you’re sent tumbling over the edge, your body clenching around him as you cry out in pure ecstasy. Your senses explode, pleasure radiating through every fibre of your being as you shatter around him, the world fading into nothingness.

“Fucking perfect,” Jaeyun breathes, his voice heavy with lust as he follows you into bliss, losing himself in the moment as he releases inside you, filling you up, shots of white rope painting his name all over your cunt. The warmth of him spills, a mark of possession that ignites another spark of ecstasy within you.

As you both ride out the waves of your euphoria, your bodies entwined, you realise this moment is everything - raw, passionate, and undeniably yours.

The intensity of your shared climax begins to fade and you both sink into a comfortable silence, the aftermath of your passionate encounter wrapping around you like a warm blanket. The room, stark and gritty with the remnants of the chaotic scene you just orchestrated, contrasts sharply with the tenderness that unfolds between you and Jaeyun.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes softening as they meet yours. The moment gives way to something sweeter, and his lips curl into a genuine smile. "You okay, baby?" he asks, his voice low and warm, filled with concern even amid the chaos. You know he's asking about more than just the sex.

"I feel perfect. Thank you for letting me do all of this, Jaeyun." You press a soft kiss to his nose, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear, feeling that familiar surge of affection for him.

His smile widens, and for a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. You nuzzle your noses together, sharing a moment of softness that contrasts with the bloody carnage around you. Jaeyun’s fingers brush lightly against your skin, and you lean into his touch instinctively, savouring the warmth before reality creeps back in.

"We really should clean up this mess," he says, his tone suddenly practical as he pulls away, adjusting his clothes. His fingers deftly work the zipper of his pants, yet, his eyes never lose that lingering warmth, the way they stay soft for you, even amid the chaos.

Just as the haze of passion begins to fade, a soft, broken whimper echoes from the other room, making both of you freeze. Your heart jumps as you lock eyes with Jaeyun, confusion flickering between you. Everyone is dead - aren’t they? Who could possibly still be alive?

"Stay close," Jaeyun murmurs, his tone low, protective. His fingers find yours, gripping tight as he picks up the gun and leads you toward the source of the sound. You nod, heart pounding as adrenaline floods your veins once again.

As you step into the room, the sight that greets you is almost surreal. Among the wreckage and ruin, you find Sunoo - alive, but barely. His face is smeared with crimson, blood pumping steadily from the empty socket where his eye once was. His leg, grotesquely amputated, drags uselessly behind him as he weakly attempts to pull himself across the floor. It’s a pitiful sight, one that tugs at something deep inside you.

You weren’t lying when you said you felt bad for him. Sunoo didn’t deserve any of this. He wasn’t like the others - he was sweet, cautious, always thinking before acting. But his so-called friends had dragged him into this nightmare, trying to shame him for his care.

You release Jaeyun’s hand, crouching beside Sunoo’s trembling form. His half-conscious eye flickers up toward you, and you can’t help but throw a sympathetic pout his way as you brush a lock of blood-matted hair from his face. His body trembles as he coughs, the wet sound grating against the silence. You gently lift him, cradling his fragile body to help him sit up.

Behind you, Jaeyun clicks the safety off hisngun, this time not in the thrill of sex but the anticipation of death.  

“I’ll make it quick,” he says, his tone nonchalant, like this is just another part of the routine. He wasn’t fazed by Sunoo’s suffering, wasn’t trapped in the same space as you, listening to Sunoo’s whispered pleas, hearing him beg to tell his mother he loved her before he thought he’d die.

The sound of Jaeyun pulling back the pistol’s slide makes you flinch, and without thinking, you wrap your arms protectively around Sunoo’s shaking frame. "No! Don’t," you protest, surprising even yourself with the sudden urgency in your voice.

Jaeyun stops, his brow arching in confusion. “Why not? If we let him live, he’ll just run off and tell the first person he sees.” He shrugs, shifting his grip on the gun. His impatience is palpable now like a man denied his final course after a bloody feast.

"We don’t have to kill him," you murmur, keeping your voice soft but firm, hoping to reach the part of Jaeyun that always listens to you. "Why don’t we keep him?"

Jaeyun’s incredulous chuckle fills the room. "Keep him?" He shakes his head, exasperated. "He’s not a pet, baby. He’s a boy, and a weak one at that. He’s not going to be any use to us."

You feel Sunoo shudder against you, his body convulsing as it fights to stay alive. He’s terrified, and rightly so, but there’s something in you that refuses to let go just yet. You rub small circles into his back, hoping to soothe him, even as your gaze locks with Jaeyun’s, pleading silently.

“He could help us,” you argue, voice soft but insistent. “He’s not like the others. He’s...sensitive.” You hesitate, watching Jaeyun’s expression closely. “No one would ever suspect a sweet boy like him of being involved. He could lure people in for us. Or clean up. He could take care of things while we’re busy.”

Jaeyun’s expression hardens. “Y/N, he’s not going to kill people. He’s not like us. He’s a liability,” he snaps, voice edged with frustration. Jaeyun gets like this when he can’t kill, the same way people do when they’re hungry. He’s starving right now despite the murder three-course meal he’s just devoured, and he is not appreciating the hold-up on dessert.

"Maybe not right away," you concede, "but he could be. He just needs time. We could toughen him up...just like you did for me."

The mention of your own transformation makes Jaeyun pause. His gaze softens slightly as the memory of what you once were flickers in his eyes. He’d seen potential in you, had taken you under his wing when you’d been weak, unsure. You hadn’t let him down. Maybe he could do the same with Sunoo.

You watch as Jaeyun’s expression shifts, a battle waging within him. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving loose ends, of anyone weak in your little circle. But you can see the doubt forming, the way his eyes linger on Sunoo’s frail form.

"Move out of the way," Jaeyun says finally, his voice more tired than angry now.

Sunoo’s remaining eye widens as his thin fingers clutch your shirt, his body jerking in fear. He knows what’s coming, and the thought of dying after surviving this far terrifies him. Tears spill from his eye, the hopelessness so raw it makes your chest tighten.

"No," you whisper, holding Sunoo tighter. Then you look up at Jaeyun with the soft, pleading eyes that have always been his weakness. "Give him a month," you suggest gently. "Let’s see what he’s made of. If he’s no good - if he runs or tries anything - then I’ll kill him myself."

A heavy silence hangs between the three of you, the only sound the soft dripping of blood onto the floor. Finally, Jaeyun lets out a long sigh, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile.

"Okay, baby," he murmurs, lowering the gun. "Anything you want." His tone softens, a warmth slipping back into it. "You know I can’t say no to you, especially when you look so pretty all roughed up like this." His eyes sweep over you, lingering on your blood-splattered face, and there’s something both tender and dangerous in the way he looks at you.

Relief washes over you as Jaeyun finally concedes. He steps forward, his fingers brushing your cheek before he bends down to kiss you, the gesture both possessive and reassuring.

“One month,” Jaeyun adds, his voice playful but tinged with a dark edge. "But if he screws up, if he even thinks about betraying us - you’ll do what you said."

You nod, feeling Sunoo’s trembling body slacken slightly in your arms as hope, fragile as it may be, flickers in his eye. For now, at least, he’s safe.

Jaeyun straightens, holstering his gun with ease. “Come on,” he says, tossing a glance at the carnage around you. "We’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do."

_____

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the game's description was too daring, almost too challenging, you are afraid to admit.

"wanna have your sweet affectionate yandere fawning all over you? no worries! however, as the old sayings goes; without efforts, you may never achieve anything—nothing is free in this world. therefore, why don't you sweat a little, get upset a little, cry a little, break a little—like your beloved yandere would once they fall for you? do your very best to get them to say yes to your love confession just once, and all of them—they will give to you.

blood, sweat, and tears; all of them shall be yours as long as you can make them say yes."

© 2024. all rights reserved xo, (only if you say yes)

and now you found yourself on the final level spending atleast, or disappointingly a huge sum of bucks on the game with currency of gems just to speed up the process, with your eyes bearing a newfound dark eyebags as an extra package of consequences.

you swore by your life and on god himself that you're only playing this for fun out of pure boredom and insomnia, however as you thumb through the game's introduction of yandere as it's dominant themes paired with a comprehensive summary of them; you questioned yourself with sheer shock as to why you've never find an ounce of existence about yanderes for the past eighteen years of your life despite being chronically online.

since yanderes are the exact definition of your overly high standards for men, ever since. no wonder you've never found a men like this before, turns out they only exists in fiction—you scoffed at yourself, filled with disbelief as you roll your eyes.

but! who cares if they don't exist in real life? they're now on the tips of your finger, waiting earnestly and eagerly for your love. a giggle so obnoxious escapes your lips, you feel like you are once a schoolgirl again, but without the experiences of one, actually.

but again who cares!

the game flashes a new pop-up, telling you the next step—choose your yandere character to play with. it shows you a list of seven yanderes illustrated on their respective cards, clad in coquettish-sort-of highschool uniforms; pink ties, beige vest over a dark blue shirt and pants paired with their set of flirty gestures as your thumb glided through each character—reading their descriptions; interests & dislikes, hobbies & talents, a little trivia about them, and of course—their strengths and weaknesses.

surprisingly, they had a range of informations so complete it felt like they were real humans. the developers did quite a spectacular job on it, don't they? and even the fact of how their weaknesses remains the same although with differences in how they would act on it or how far they would go; obsession, possession, and damn psychotic—willing to kill for you.

how romantic. . . in a psychotic way, of course. you hummed unconsciously, letting out a sigh after at the disappointing fact of how you still find it strangely attractive in your late twenties.

are you really that of a single pringle? pfft!

as you giddily spend your time trying to choose one of all characters. they're just all too good, looking too good for your heart to take. but one particular character catches your eye, intrigues you even with those pair of eyes—goosebumps ran down your spine as you could feel him gazing back at you.

like at you, literally.

or was it just the game's tactic to make the players like you fall deeper? hm, probably! it definitely was, unless a random ghost must've possessed your phone but that can't be right?

right?! you yelled the same word out loud, snapping your head around your room—looking for any potential jumpscares, but to your relief—thank god. now you can play your little new obsession in peace!

snapping your head back at your phone, eyes lit up in immense stars as you've made up your mind, heart thumping loudly as you scanned his unique features—tapping the "play with me?" soft pink button below the name 'yang jungwon' aka the mischievous leader kitty of the group.

in yandere academy, this group is called enhypen—and they have a bunch of fangirls, and it's not even a 'bunch', the size of their fandom is almost half of the female population in the academy and even outside of its territories—there is this ridiculously long line of female students from other academies. a feat that cannot be totally underestimated, and it's not even surprising as they are packed with dazzling visuals, and a set of numerous talents of their own.

they catch hearts everywhere, left and right, back and forth with their grand entrance to the school. each of them has their own separate fandoms too, and yang jungwon's taekwondo club practices are always filled with hearty eyes paired nerve-wracking screams that his coach spends half an hour yeeting them out.

"huh?" you let that out a tad bit too loud, almost exaggerated even. the game surely didn't turn out the way you thought, as you had the initial assumption that the yandere you chose already fell for you, and that you just had to spend those lovey-dovey levels roleplaying with them with a one or a few more predetermined routes to choose from.

the rules was pretty simple; try to get his heart—make him fall for you in the set duration of thirty days. in other words, there are ninety-nine percent possibility that he might reject your confession out of pure lack of interest. get that three row of bars; friendship, love, and yandereness as high as you can because if you were unable to do so then there will be no second chances of playing the yandere of your choice without paying an excessive sum of bucks, so you just had to do it once and make sure to do it right.

quite a challenging mission, huh? no it really is challenging but you were determined as your nostrils flared out a puff of air, straightening your posture as

the adorable motion logo of the game plays out, loading in a bunch of texts meant to help you along the way;

'yandere has each of their own unique love languages, pay attention!'

'little misfortunes are often a blessing in disguise, sometimes redirecting you away from what we call a 'disaster.'

'completing side tasks will increase your yandere's love bar by two percent!'

it soon pops up a bunch of pinky hearts and sparkling stars after all those introductions and guides before switching to a scene of him, jungwon—standing before you, and as expected, you were instructed to approach him.

the location in his taekwondo club, all while sandwiched in between his die-hard fangirls with those screams that you had to turn down your volume to zero. talk about in starting a cool first impression—well never mind, two choices popped up on your screen.

choice one: wait for him after his taekwondo practices (20% of working out)

choice two: act like a damsel in distress (5% of working out)

"uh," your thumb hovered over the two choices, is this a trap? act like a damsel in distress—what in the actual fuck? who would even do that in 2024?! you begrudgingly tapped on the first choice, and the scene switches to a pop up message:

try again, jungwon left a couple minutes earlier for a dinner with jay!

[ retry? ] [ exit? ]

your eyebrow twitches, what the fuck? just like that . . .? there's even barely a progress and you just have to fucking retry?

and jokes on you as your jaw dropped on the floor with the new set of choices presented before you, four choices—actually.

"what is this?!" you yelled so loud you immediately covered your mouth, peeking outside the window.

day three.

the love bar ain't going the fuck up, it's still there glaring at your face with it's zero percent. well that's fine, atleast the friendship bar goes up a tad bit—by five percent. a progress is still a progress!

but the game is just so greedy! you can't skip a day? sure then! but you only had three gems a day, one is to play the major mission, second to power up your aesthetics, skills, and status. third, to complete your side tasks such as running errands for your home or completing school assignments!

that even takes a whole day to refill back up, and it's not even enough with these thirty days you got and with this slow ass rate of getting jungwon to fall for you! you threw your phone on the bed, huffing like a madman—contemplating whether to spend a few bucks on it or just drop the game altogether. surely, you can't be that too attached with a yandere character, right?

right?!

jokes on you, your fingers find itself on the payment method against your will. ultimately cashing out a few bucks from your bank account with a single tear trailing down from your eye, all of this would be complete waste of money and effort if you fail to reign over his heart.

you let out an almost animalistic growl—filled with downright spite, actually. is this game even for real?! the choices they gave you are almost like deliberately setting you up for failure, definitely is! you were almost sure that is—to the point of contacting the developers themselves but you held yourself in sheer strength of self-control at last-minute, at the last digit of contacting them.

"it's okay, pampering myself isn't a sin." you pat yourself on the back, comforting yourself with a huge pout reaching the floor. it's okay! with a newfound determination, you're sure you'll make it!

day ten.

hopeless! utterly hopeless even the god of romance and cupid's themselves would laugh at you. you would, too. due to the fact that you went as far as googling on how to 'win over a man's heart" or "list of dialogues and actions that makes a man gain interest in you".

one of them even says food, that it is the way to a man's heart. but how the heck are you even going to feed a fictional game character? it would be easier if there was a food dialogue!

right, when is your character—or the game itself deciding to send a heart shaped box of chocolates? that would atleast give you a few percent to his love bar!

throwing yourself at your bed like a ragdoll, groaning and kicking your feet in the air. why do you even bother? for what? your search history is so hopelessly embarrassing, and even more embarrassing was when your co-worker had their eyes ogling at it. your mistake for letting your phone screen lit up for everyone to see, thank god she was the only one. patting you on the back that it was okay, and that she too had her fair share of struggles on fictional men.

truly a fellow comrade, you almost shed a tear.

day seventeen.

is this damn game trying to get on your nerves?

deciding to show a new bunch of rules that they didn't bother to show at the first day—set of rules you mustn't do while proceeding with the act of winning a yandere's heart, that is—you were not to skip a single day of playing—in other words, not spending a time with your yandere as in the game's words itself; they will be lonely and might end up throwing tantrums—loathing you for doing so, ignoring you for a short period or even longer depending on how long you were gone, thus risking the amount of effort you've spent so far down the drain.

and you actually skipped not one but two days because of your hectic work piling up after a fellow coworker's taking a sick leave for a week. . . and that was also after finally getting his love bar up to two percent and friendship bar reaching whopping sixteen percent.

yeah, it's sadly a 'whopping' one for you.

and now it's back at zero, with his friendship bar down to crashing down to nine digit and just as exactly the rules stated; every choice, dialogues, and routes you picked ended up him ignoring you with that furrowed eyebrows and slight pout on his lips, or responding to you in a flat out cold tone.

he's not even in love with you, so what are you even throwing a tantrum for?! you screamed that question at the animated game character on your phone's screen.

day twenty-four.

nah, this won't do. it definitely won't so why are you still trying? you bit your lower lip as you look for cheats, hacks, and tutorials online, praying to atleast find some miracle that could miraculously rocket you to ninety percent of love bar atleast!

since all you have left is six days.

you've spent an embarrassing amount of hours and days on this shit, even more dedicated and focused than you do back in your days as a student. you were so sure by this point that you could actually become a relationship therapist with all these accumulated knowledge!

day thirty.

eyebrows and lips twitching, it is.

level thirty, it is—ending on quite a horrible note, or actually, a total doomsday glaring back at you with all your nonexistent experience combined into a recipe with the title "never been in a relationship before".

a helpless laughter escapes your throat, of course—how can you catch a yandere's heart? much less make him your lover? you've never even caught a human's interest over the past twenty years of your life!

how cruel, how utterly cruel! god truly has it's ways of playing jokes. tears, laughter, giggles, sweat, money and effort—all gone down the drain.

all because of that one sentence ending it all, each word literally jumping out from his animated lips in a bold ass pink letters,

"i'm sorry but i can't accept it. i only see you as a friend, (name). i hope you could understand. . i'm sorry, but no—you're just not my type."

huh?! seriously?! a compelling urge, or a really tremendous one so colossal you can break your table into two parts—all that set of routes you've chosen so far with a careful decision and thoughts just for him to say this? just for the love bar to be at total ten percent?

jungwon, how could you? only ten percent? there's no hint of romantic affections found in his eyes or gestures, his friendship bar only by forty percent (a low score of only being his 'school' friend), heck you didn't even trigger his yandereness. like look at him! his yandere bar is at zero looming percent!

a trace of the pink love bar and red yandere bar nowhere to be seen, this is a pure scam! a love scam in the form of a game! meant to target single old ladies like you, fucking hell!

out of pure rage and disappointment, you slammed your phone on the bed—burying your face on your pillows as you let out a long drawn out, muffled scream. downright mad at yourself for even being so triggered by this whole shit, and at the fact of you acting like teenage girl imbued with hormonal changes,

"can't even get a fictional men to fall for me, i'm totally screwed for life!—"

you're so going to uninstall that shitty game, there's no point in playing anyways when you can't have the same character of your choice.

a notification 'tings' up, interrupting your bursts of tantrums—you look over at your phone with the game still up, a big pink heart-shaped bubble pops up on the screen—slowly draining into a pathetic colour of white, ultimately shredding it apart into a broken heart, mocking at your misery.

however the next message pulls outs a gasp from your throat, appearing in its usual glossy pink heart but a little redder at the bottom.

💌 2:09AM

hey there, our precious darling!

we totally get how you feel, there's no need to fret anymore! here we present to you an exclusive package where you will be given a final chance to retry for jungwon! this is a one in a lifetime chance for you—our dear player!

tempting almost, yet you're definitely not falling for that anymore.

and it's all free, let yourself fall deeper and deeper into this world of obsession. you can't really give up that quickly, right?

yanderes never knows when to give up, anyways ♡

free? there's nothing free in this world, even the game itself stated the same words. you've wasted your time, money, and effort on this dumb game and now it's giving a package that is exclusive only for you?

what dirty trick is this game trying to pull off once again?