바보라도 알아.

“He added dog lover. You love dogs and… music?” She goes over his interests quickly, eyes scanning his profile like a pro. You suppose it’s because she’s used to it, quick to read a guy’s intentions just by their Tinder profile.

“I like assembling computers. Oh, this guy’s a dork, you’d love him.”

Right.

It’s a match!

“Yunjin!” You shift in your seat, immediately grabbing your phone from her grip before she can do any further damage. Sure, you had humored yourself into downloading the app for Yunjin but you never thought of actually swiping right for anyone.

“What? He’s cute, and you matched!” She giggles, trying to grab your phone back so she can craft you the perfect first message.

She knows you won’t do it yourself.

You lock your phone before she has a chance to do anything stupid, shaking your head in reprimand. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not happening.”

She simply smiles at you, shrugging her shoulders and calling it a day for her trial in meddling with your love life. “Well, I tried. Alright, I have to go. I’ll be back late, you sure you don’t wanna come with?”

You return the smile, shaking your head as you drop yourself to lay down on the entirety of the couch once your roommate gets up. “I think my computer parts are coming in today so I have to be here to sign off the delivery.”

“Nerd.” She snorts, waving you goodbye and locking the door behind her. It’s your cue to grab your laptop and continue binging that new drama that had just been released.

This is your ordinary Friday night, curled up on the sofa with your most comfortable blanket and your laptop on your lap. Despite the desire to socialize sometimes, you think nothing else really goes above wearing your favorite PJs and eating snacks without guilt as the opening song of your new drama plays.

Though, you only get to finish one episode when your doorbell rings, and you waltz yourself to your front door to happily accept the package sent by your parents. They had won it as one of the raffle prizes in a foreign business trip, and since your parents had no use for a computer, they decided to ship it off to you. “Could help with college,” is what your dad says.

It’s only when multiple boxes come rolling in when you realize one small problem. You don’t know how to fucking assemble a computer, and you doubt Yunjin would know how either.

“That’s it. If you could please sign here, here, and here.” The mailman still sounds enthusiastic despite having done hours of his shift already, and you comply immediately as to not add on to the downpour of stress that’s handed to them every single day.

When you shut your door, you quickly turn around to stare at the multitude of boxes on the ground. Maybe Beomgyu would know how? He looks like he’d know a thing or two about computers. So, you shoot him a text.

Turns out, he doesn’t know how. And he’s currently scamming Yeonjun out of a free dinner, and so even though he tells you he’ll try to be there, you know he probably won’t arrive (unless to laugh at your situation).

You think, maybe you can just go to the Computer Engineering department and ask someone to help you, but could you risk socializing with numerous college students face to face? Absolutely the fuck not.

You’ve just about given up when your head strikes an idea and your back immediately straightens in posture at the stupid thought. “Should I?”

You rush towards where you had left your phone, letting out a sigh as you stare at the one person on your Match list. Lee Felix who likes assembling computers.

Lovely fucking timing.

Fumbling with the device, you finally decide to shoot him a message. What are the odds of him responding, anyway?

You’re tempted to throw your phone while waiting for his response, though your plan goes down the drain in a second when he responds almost immediately.

yn (6:03pm): hello!

felix (6:04pm): hey! i didn’t think you would message first :))

yn (6:06pm): oh, i’m sorry i hope you don’t get my intentions wrong. it’s just that … my parents sent over some computer parts and i rly don’t know how to assemble a computer

yn (6:06pm): i know it’s kind of random, but could u possibly help me by any chance?

yn (6:07pm): i don’t rly know anyone who knows how to and you’re the only person that came to mind

You cringe at yourself for triple messaging, face visibly scrunching as you let out a pained noise. And then he replies, and your hand shoots to grab your phone and stare at his message.

“Yeah, why not?” is what he replies, followed by where he should meet you. Is it a good idea to invite a stranger to your dorm? Probably not, but you can’t possibly assemble your computer somewhere else and bring it back to your dorms. So, you tell him to meet you at a cafe nearby – to test out the waters and see if he isn’t some variant of a serial killer.

“Be there in 15,” is his next reply.

15 minutes?!

You look down at yourself in sudden panic, still clad in a big shirt and some shorts. How were you supposed to pick something decent to wear in 15 minutes without Yunjin? You suppose could facetime her but you know it takes her hours to even decide on what to wear for herself.

Bringing your feet towards your closet, you say a silent prayer and start picking out what to wear for yourself. While this wasn’t technically a date, Lee Felix from Tinder is still fucking cute and you would hate for him to think he got scammed into swiping right on you.

You double check yourself in the mirror, chewing at your lips thoughtfully before sighing out in approval. At least you looked as if you put some sort of effort into what you’re wearing. That should be good enough in itself.

The nerve of meeting an entirely new person begins to set in when you repeatedly dart your eyes from the coffee shop back to your phone to try and see if anyone who looked like Felix was in the coffee shop. It’s like watching a game of ping pong the way you repeatedly look back and forth. And when it seems that no one with long black hair is here yet, you take it upon yourself to take a seat by the window where he can find you easily.

The scraping of the chair catches your attention, and holy fuck. Lee Felix is not a catfish. He is way far from it, and you think you might’ve lucked out when he takes the seat in front of you.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t startle you.” Deep, thick accent. It feels like shots of espresso when he speaks and it physically manifests goosebumps from you. You shake your head, telling him you’re fine. “(Name), right?”

He smiles, and it feels like your whole world stops.

“Uh, yeah. You must be Felix?” The man in question nods his head, reaching out to shake your hand and the gesture has your cheeks flushing. It’s an act of basic human decency, but can you really be blamed for acting like a shy little school girl when someone as beautiful as Felix is sitting and talking to you.

The coffee shop is still bustling, and everyone around you converses as if the most beautiful man hadn’t just stepped foot into the coffee shop. The freckles sitting just below his eyes look like constellations, and his black hair is styled just messy enough to achieve the hot boy who doesn’t know he’s hot look.

“Do you want some coffee before I set your computer up?” You shake your head, suddenly feeling shy.

Instead, you tell him to get whatever he wants so you don’t feel guilty enough for taking time out of his evening just to assemble your computer. He accepts your promise in pretense, but he comes back with his order and a few pastries and it’s clear he’s already paid for it from the way he ignores any mention of how much it cost.

“I didn’t know what you preferred, so I got a bit of everything.” There’s a crinkle just at the corner of his eyes when he smiles, sitting back down adjacent of you as he pushes the plate closer to you.

You look at the array of pastries, a little hesitant. “Please don’t feel shy. Here, let’s take one together.”

He grabs a cookie from the platter, and you shyly follow by grabbing a strawberry muffin.

“Mmm, strawberry muffin. Very good choice.” Felix comments, watching you closely as you take a bite out of the muffin. “Is it good?”

Your eyes widen in delight, nodding your head as you chew slowly. “So good.”

Your words come out as a mumble, and it triggers a sweet laugh out of Felix. You feel familiar, the way you smile with your eyes and close them shut to savor the taste.

“You’re cute.” He says unabashedly, as if his words won’t cause drastic consequences.

A chunk gets stuck on your throat.

Felix is quick to hand you a glass of water when you start choking, rushing to stand by your side. You would’ve hoped the first skinship for the evening would be handholding, and not repeated pats on your back to remedy your choking.

“Are you okay?” His hand is still on your back, gently running small circles as he leans down to check on you. You think you might start choking again if he keeps looking at you like that, 1080p view of his eyelashes and the specs splashing his irises.

“Mhm, sorry.” You put the glass down, refusing to meet his eyes as he remains hovering over you. You want to leave out of embarrassment. He notices your silence, notices the way you cross your arms in mock defense.

“Don’t worry, I still think you’re cute.” There’s a smirk on his face. You can tell without even looking up at him. “I’ll take these out.”

He says it so casually, as if he’s simply asking about your day. His outward flirty-ness is new, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“Ready to go?”

With the plastic bag in his hand and his order in a takeout cup, you sigh gratefully. “Yeah.”

The walk to your dorm is short, but it’s spent in conversation. Lee Felix is talkative, has lots of stories to offer. Whatever it takes to make you laugh.

You like that about him. You like that you don’t have to talk so much. He doesn’t even force a comment out of you. Just needs to know you’re listening.

So you do. You listen intently as he shares pieces of his life with you—his friends, his course, games he plays. He’s chatty, and the way he smiles with every word reminds you of a cat. Deep whiskers and crescent eyes.

“So, really, this is a great way to end the day, assembling a pretty girl’s computer.”

His mouth drops a little when he realizes he’d vocalized the latter part of his sentence, yet he doesn’t make a move to take it back. You are pretty, one of the prettiest he’s ever seen. And the blush on your face is well worth the slip of his tongue.

“As long as you’re sure this isn’t a hassle.” You mumble, looking down at your feet as you reach your building.

That you aren’t getting anything out of this.

Though, before you can step forward, you’re tugged back to where Felix is standing. He’s holding your hand now, grabbing your full attention. “I promise this isn’t a bother.”

The way he looks at you answers your silent question—he doesn’t mind that you’re simply asking for his help without any intention.

“I enjoy building computers, especially with good company. You don’t even have to do anything. Just sit there and be yourself.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He squeezes your hand for extra measure, allowing you to drag him to your dorm room.

True to his word, Felix doesn’t so much as let you lift a finger. You stay seated on the couch, watching as he sets to work on the floor. From time to time, he’d tell you what he’s doing. Something about screwing some parts in and a mother board? You don’t understand much, but you listen as much as you can.

“Tell me about yourself.” Felix looks up from his work, and your eyes widen a little at the boy’s sudden request.

You’re sure you’re simply imagining the gentle interest in his eyes. “Hm?” You ask him to repeat himself, even though you heard him loud and clear.

“I’ve been yapping about myself all night. I wanna know more about you.” He teases.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Soooo… do I start with the year I was born?” You laugh when he throws you a look, quick to throw your hands in the air in mock surrender. “Joking, joking.”

“You’re an interesting girl, (Name).” Felix grins, locking eyes with you for a second and a half before turning back to his work.

“There’s nothing much to me, really. I go to school and go home and that’s about it. I just try and survive college the best I can.”

He shoots you a disapproving look. “Well, I beg to differ.”

“What do you mean?” You bring your legs up on the couch, sitting cross-legged as you wait for what he had to say.

“For one, your eyes lit up when I talked about Chan’s Pokemon collection, or how Seungmin is obsessed with Kdramas.” He points out, reaching for his takeout drink and taking a few large gulps. “And you smiled when I mentioned the little chicken plush I own.”

You don’t expect Felix to notice any of this, and the thought that he did has a blush fighting to creep up your face.

You grab a throw pillow to hide behind.

“Oh, and you like strawberry muffins. So, I’d say there’s a lot to you. And I’m hoping to learn everything more.”

You have to force your eyes to look away from him in fear that your flustered cheeks would appear too obvious to the boy. Though, if he’d noticed the mere brightening of your eyes, you’re sure he’s already caught on to the silly schoolgirl smile on your lips.

“Stop looking at me.” You mumble, burying your face in your pillow. All you can hear is his sweet laughter.

“Come here, I’m just about done.”

You clap your hands in small when he turns on your computer, fully functioning and fully assembled. It surprises you how a task that would’ve taken you 6 hours is done in under 2 by Felix. Even more that it didn’t even feel like two hours.

You suppose that’s just the thing with Felix. He makes it so that time disappears with the whole night sky in his eyes—the moon for eyes and stars littering his face.

“Thank you, Felix. Like really.” He dismisses you, telling you it was nothing. The satisfaction on your face is enough compensation for his work.

There’s a few do’s and don’t’s that he mentions, and you try to list them down the best you can.

“Or, I can just text it to you?”

You pause mid-writing, looking up at him. “Sure, that’s… that’s fine with me.”

You’re unsure of how to say goodbye to him after giving him your number, unsure even of how you can make it up to him for the 3 hours you’d taken away from him. If it were anyone else, you would’ve said it in ease, so you don’t know why you can’t do the same for Felix.

It’s different with him because you don’t want to say goodbye. You could go hours longer listening to him and watching him assemble your computer. Though, before you can contemplate to do anything, Felix interrupts your inner monologue.

“Actually, I have an idea on how you can make it up to me.”

You look up at him expectantly, and you see the hint of a smirk tracing on his features.

“Let me take you out on a date. A real one.”

“A date?” You stutter.

“I know you said you texted me just because I could fix up computers, but I really enjoyed talking to you today.” He’s holding back a smile. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” His eyes light up, glazed with happiness as he processes your response.

“Okay? As in, I can take you out on a real date?”

“Yes.”

Felix can feel something sweet in his heart, can feel it flutter like it’s being squeezed. To his surprise, you’d actually agreed, and the genuine excitement in his smile is too wholesome to not stare at.

“So… goodnight then?”

“Goodnight.”

“I’ll text you?”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

Felix fixes you with a look one last time, almost romantic with the soft glaze in his eyes. And then he’s stumbling out into your hallway.

With a second glance, he turns his back away from you and walks away. You can’t help but still feel the warmth of his smile.

road trip (lee know)

After years of being friends with Jisung, you thought that you were able to handle it, handle him. It was no secret that Jisung was not only close friends with you, but with his coworker Minho as well. The both of them were glued together by the hips, and when the time came and Jisung moved away from home to go to university, Minho followed and they both moved in together. 

At first, it was okay. You felt indifferent about Minho. He was kind to Jisung and that was all that mattered to you. He was also insanely gorgeous, so you felt shy to talk to him, anyway. He was friendly to you and you were nice to him, even developed something of a crush on him not long after. It was not until the both of them moved in together that Minho’s behaviour towards you started to change. 

Whenever you came over, he would just stare at you until you went into Jisung’s room. It was almost scary how his eyes would just follow you around whenever you went, without him saying a single word. His comments turned more snarky, and soon enough, you actually dreaded being around him.

Jisung, however, was none the wiser. He absolutely loved having both of his best friends around at any given time, especially because he thought that the both of you were getting along well, too.

“Minho just likes to tease,” Jisung had said one day after you complained about Minho’s attitude towards you, “this is how he shows his affection.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

The semester break came soon enough after and Jisung invited you and Minho on a road trip.

“It will be so much fun!” he promised and you sighed to yourself, “Minho is already planning our route. All you need to do is sit in the car and be pretty.”

“That’s gonna be something,” Minho commented. You looked over at him. He was sitting on his laptop in the kitchen, while you and Jisung were sitting on the couch in the living room. 

You rolled your eyes, “I’m already dreading being stuck in a car with you.”

Minho smirked, “I think we should worry about your cooking skills. Jisung mentioned that you wanted to bring something along?”

“I didn’t,” you huffed and hit Jisung on his arm. Your best friend glared at you.

“You did. You said you would bring snacks.”

“I won’t make them. I’m gonna buy them.”

Minho chuckled, “That sounds like a good idea.”

You sighed and put your head on Jisung’s shoulder.

“Does he have to come?” you whispered and Jisung snorted, “I’m shit at driving. He kinda has to.”

“I heard that,” Minho yelled and closed his laptop, “And you asked me first. I need a break, please don’t do this to me now.”

Jisung laughed, “You’ll both go. It’ll be fun, don’t be so cranky.”

And cranky you were.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

The first hour of the road trip went well. Jisung and Minho did most of the talking and you were sitting in the back of the car, just silently looking out of the window. At your first stop, Jisung left the car first to run to the bathroom. Minho looked after him, before he turned around to look at you.

“What’s up with you today? You usually never stop talking.”

You rolled your eyes, “There’s nothing to talk about with you.”

“Whatever you say. You could’ve just stayed at home if you won’t even pretend to enjoy being here,” Minho answered and you huffed.

“I would enjoy it more if you weren’t here. You’re a shit driver, by the way.”

Minho chuckled, “I’m sure that’s why Jisung didn’t ask you to drive us.”

“You’re annoying,” you answered childishly and crossed your arms over your chest. Minho smirked, “Oh yeah?”

Before the squirrel continued, Jisung opened the passenger door again.

“Guys, can one of you go with me? It looks so sketchy, I don’t think that I can piss here.”

“Gross,” you said, “I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll fill up,” Minho added and looked at you through the mirror in front of him, “Just be quick.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“He hates me,” you said when the car was out of sight, “He doesn’t even want me here and it’s only been an hour. An hour. Why didn’t I stay at home?”

“Because you love me,” Jisung answered, “And because I need someone to protect me from piss-killers.”

“Piss-Killers?”

“People who kill you when you take a piss,” he said as a matter of factly, “Especially when it’s a gas station in the middle of nowhere.”

“Alright,” you said and just stared at him in confusion, “Can you go in alone or do you want me to join you?”

“I’m an adult. I can do this,” Jisung answered, but didn’t move forward to go to the bathroom, “Actually, if you want to stand in front of the door, that would be great.”

You snorted and did as he asked. You quickly used the bathroom yourself after Jisung was finished, and he waited for you outside of the door, “just in case.”

When the both of you walked back to the car, Minho was already waiting for you. He was leaning against the driver’s door with his lips pressed together.

“What took you so long?” Minho joked and you looked at Jisung. 

“Nothing,” your best friend blushed, “We’re completely fine.”

You grinned, “Sure we are.”

Minho looked at you and his frown darkened. 

“Alright then,” he said quietly and opened the car door, “Let’s get going, shall we?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

It was silent. Jisung had tried to get the conversations back going when Minho started the car, but neither him nor you actually answered Jisung and he soon stopped talking. All that could be heard was the music playing. It was from Jisung’s playlist that he made specifically for your trip. Now, instead of screaming the lyrics to Taylor Swift songs, you just looked out of the window, wondering why you agreed to this awkward trip in the first place.

Eventually, Jisung fell asleep. It would still take you about an hour until you reached your hotel for the night, so Minho kept driving. He looked at you from time to time through the mirror above the steering wheel, but you proceeded to ignore him.

Finally, Minho spoke up.

“You’re weird,” he said quietly and you sighed.

“Not now, please.” 

Minho furrowed his eyebrows, “What’s up?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because Jisung does,” he said. Minho started to drive a little bit slower and added, “Are you still upset because I’m here? Is that it?”

You locked eyes with him in the mirror, “And what if I am? You can’t stand me, anyway.”

Minho pressed his lips together. His hold on the steering wheel tightened, “Why do you always say that?”

“Because it’s true,” you said a bit louder this time. Jisung stirred in the passenger seat, but Minho paid him no mind.

“It is not.”

You sighed, “Minho, I’m just here because-”

“Because you and Jisung have this thing going on, I get it.”

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows, “Are you jealous because we’re close?”

“I’m jealous because you like him and not me.”

Your heart stopped. You tried to find Minho’s eyes again, but he avoided you. His knuckles turned whiter and his ears were blushing faintly.

“I keep teasing you. I do it again and again in hopes that you know that I just want to… That I just want to see you smile. I just want to make you laugh, and all you do is go back to Jisung. All you do is smile at him and you don’t even think about me. I know that it’s selfish of me to be jealous, but god,” Minho exhaled and rubbed his eyes with a sigh before staring back at the road in front of him, “I just wish you would look at me the way you look at him.”

You did not say anything. You just looked outside the window to gather your thoughts for a brief second.

“Minho,” you started, but he shook his head.

“It’s whatever, okay? Just pretend I never said that.”

“Are you guys okay?” Jisung asked sleepily from beside Minho. You shut your mouth and Minho just nodded.

“Everything’s fine. We’re almost there.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Fortunately, the hotel Minho chose was, despite being cheap, clean. The receptionist was nice and helped you get to your room quickly. Unfortunately, Minho had rented a room for the three of you together to save money. 

The room itself was simple. There was one king size bed and a couch, and it all looked very comfortable and perfect for one night. Jisung made his way inside first and put all of your belongings on the small table in front of the sofa.

“So, who’s sleeping where?” He asked and Minho answered immediately.

“I’ll take the couch,” he said and threw his bag on top of it, “You guys can sleep in the bed together.”

Jisung stared at him, “Are you sure?”

Minho nodded shortly. Jisung looked at him for another moment, before he turned to you.

“I’ll only sleep in bed with you if you keep your cold feet to yourself this time.”

You huffed, “They wouldn’t be so cold if you wouldn’t hog the fucking bedsheets all the time.”

Minho behind you sighed quietly and walked past you out of the room. Jisung looked after him and then at you.

“Did you guys fight while I was asleep? He’s kinda odd today.”

You shrugged, “I’m not sure. We had a conversation about his feelings, I guess.”

Jisung’s eyes lit up at what you said, “His feelings? Did he confess?”

You stared at him with wide eyes, “Did he what?”

“Oh, you know,” Jisung answered nervously and took a step back, “That he definitely does not have a crush on someone in this room? Because that would be so silly?”

You glared at your best friend.

“You’re telling me that you knew?” You pressed your finger into his chest threateningly, “You knew the entire time and just let me believe that this man hates me?”

Jisung took a step back and stumbled slightly. He fell onto the couch and stared up at your glaring form.

“To be fair, it was a secret.”

“A secret!” You exclaimed and threw your arms up, “A secret. You dumbass.”

You took another step towards Jisung to threaten him a little bit more, before turning around to follow Minho.

“Good luck,” Jisung exclaimed and you huffed, “Idiot.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Minho was standing beside the car when you found him. He still got some more stuff out of the trunk and barely even looked up when you approached him.

“Aren’t you guys busy? I wanted to give you some time alone,” Minho said nonchalantly. You sighed.

“I don’t hate you,” you said. Minho stopped what he was doing and looked up at you.

“Just forget about what I said.”

“I don’t want to.”

The both of you stared at each other.

“I don’t want to forget about what you said. It’s true that I’m close with Jisung, but that’s because he’s my best friend. I’ve known him forever, and you… I don’t like looking at you because you make me nervous.”

Minho frowned, “Why do I make you nervous?”

“Because you’re you,” you confessed and broke the eye contact you had, “You’re just so gorgeous and I genuinely thought that you hated me for the longest time. I never wanted to speak to you because you are… you. I even had the biggest crush on you when you were still working with Jisung. You were so funny and so charming, I just don’t know what I did for you to start being mean to me.”

“Mean to you?” Minho took a step closer to you. He was now standing right in front of you, his chest barely grazing yours, “I’m obsessed with you.”

You looked up at him, his eyes softening.

“I absolutely adore you, and I…” Minho took a deep breath. Gently, he lifted his hands closer to your face. Before he touched you, he looked into your eyes for confirmation. When you nodded slightly, he exhaled and cupped your face into his hands.

“I’m genuinely and truly so into you. I’m so sorry if my teasing came across as me hating you. I don’t, I truly do not hate you in any way. I was hoping that it would make you smile, I know that Jisung thinks it’s funny.”

You snorted and leaned closer into Minho’s hands, “Jisung thinks that he’s gonna get murdered when he’s on the toilet. I don’t think that you should trust him with this.”

Minho chuckled and pulled you closer to him. Your chests were touching now and it sent a warm feeling through your entire body. 

“I’m sorry if I was rude to you back,” you said and Minho shook his head.

“Don’t. I really thought you were flirting with me.  I was hoping that you were, but then you left with Jisung today and I just… I sound so pathetic, but I really thought you guys were making out.”

Minho blushed when you laughed, “Making out? I mean it, he really thought someone would murder him mid-piss.”

You leaned closer to Minho, his forehead now touching yours.

“If there’s someone I’d make out with in a sketchy gas station bathroom, it would be you.”

Grinning, Minho pulled your face even closer to his. Your lips were barely grazing each other now and you both smiled.

“I’ll take your word for it on the way back home.”

And then, he kissed you.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

He returned to the city you had left all those years ago, the same city that he adamantly refused to leave and you never knew why. These days, you're not busy with work, and all of your friends are travelling to the nearest beach - you don't have to, you have the pool. These days, all you can do is sit and stare at it, wondering if you should ask him to come visit. You knew Jeongin would obey in a heartbeat, and that's what you feared the most.

That's exactly why you did it, and he obliged. You two had a predictable relationship: you ask him for anything and he will say yes, even if he has to lie; you stay away from the other but never far enough to forget the other; you see the possibility of what could be both of you, and he sees the wraith of what you two were.

You hear the doorbell from across the house, and then you wait for him to call out your name as if the ringing sound from before wasn't enough. You hadn't heard your name dripping from his lips for so long, you just had to enjoy it a little bit more. "Are you home?"

He hears a laugh and your feet being dragged against the floor, his heart thumping and a persistent thought in his head, "you two are just friends". Just that, nothing more.

A lot more, if he remembers it well.

If his memory isn't failing him, then he remembers trying not to confess his feelings to you back when you were gossiping with him while skipping school. He remembers seeing you talking with some guy when you left for college and he remembers cursing himself for not confessing, and he also remembers trying not to do it when he slept over the last time. He recalls having you trace his features while he promised you to never leave, and he also remembers coming back home after promising you not to.

If he remembers it well, and he does, you hated everything about the city he called home and would never come back, even if he begged you to. He would beg, but only silently.

"Just friends," he repeats mentally when you open the door and with a shining smile you throw yourself into his arms, your silk shirt cold against his hands - this city was always cold, never warm enough for you.

Friends don't kiss each other like you two always end up doing. They don't end up tangled up under sheets and they definitely don't need the other to breathe. Jeongin doesn't think friends should be as dependent on each other as you two are, but you like it that way. You like thinking of him like he's oxygen for you to fill your lungs with after all this time suffocating.

"You're late," you happily murmur as you take his hands and guide him to the couch, "I ordered so much food. Couldn't remember what was your favorite so I ordered almost everything. Was it shrimp?"

"Shrimp, yeah. I'm so moved," Jeongin drops his bags, the loud thump - way louder than usual - making your ears perk up, "traffic was hell, this city has too many people with cars."

"Your bags are heavy."

"Yeah. Don't worry, I'll take care of them."

You clean your throat, sitting cross-legged on the sage green couch he liked so much, his frame towering over you, "you're staying?"

"For the week, yeah."

"The week?"

He nods, "stay forever" is what you want to say. He would answer "of course!" and you would loathe him for months after he had left you again. So you don't say anything, deciding to simply wrap yourself up with your robe and sporting a grin to mirror his.

You follow him around like a puppy, he had been in your apartment just once and already had memorized every door and window — he remembers how you looked pressed against some of them; how you looked smelling the morning air next to each of the windows and remembers closing them right after. That city was too cold.

You see him organizing his clothes in your wardrobe and smile at yourself. It was such a natural scene, his black glasses and black fluffy hair reflecting coziness that never echoed in that platinum hair he had while you lived in the same city. Gray sweater, jeans and soft purple socks - that was the most stunning boy you had ever seen. "How have you been? You never text back."

"Busy. Very busy," he smiles, dimples appearing with hinted mischief as he gently walks to where you sit on the bed, "guess what."

"What?"

Jeongin violently shakes his head, "guess."

"Innie, with the way you live your news could be located anywhere between 'just killed someone and ran away' and 'just ate ten burgers in twenty minutes', you know?"

"Why do you treat me like I'm some kind of juvenile delinquent?"

"You're flattering yourself if you think you're juvenile."

"I'm twenty two."

"Are you?" you take his hand and force him to flop in the bouncy bed, pointing a finger to his forehead, "The wrinkles are taking over your face."

"You're mean," a breathy laughter takes over him as he lies down and his heart almost stops when he sees you settling into the warmth of his arms, "I still have something to say."

"How am I stopping you?"

You feel the gentle shove to your shoulders and his shy voice returns, "You're not. Anyways, it's nothing, I just wanted to mess with you."

It was something. His parents had a pretty big business in town, a ton of people worked for them - including your parents -, and was rapidly growing. So rapidly, soon they would open an affiliated company in another country. Away from them, away from you. And they wanted him to take care of it.

He was the one who dropped out of college because it reminded him of responsibilities and was in love with his best friend. Him, who had to take care of his best friend's parents, because he felt like he owed them for raising his first love and his favourite person in the whole world. He was the one who couldn't leave the city because it was the last reminiscing memory of when you two saw each other every day and felt each other's warm skin every day. In a new, faraway city, there is no you, and there is no warmth at all.

But he wouldn't think about this at all, not when you sat up with your pretty face and took his phone to snap a few pictures of yourself to put it as a wallpaper; not when you took his head to your lap and started ruffling his hair to annoy him.

"Why do you always order shrimp burgers? Everyone knows that mushroom burgers are superior."

"They aren't! I don't think you have what it takes to appreciate good cuisine."

You smack your hand on his chest playfully, Jeongin's hair tickling your chin when you laugh at the force used and come to soothe the sting with a kiss on his cheek, "fast food is good cuisine, now?"

"Why are you policing my eating habits, are you my mom?"

"I'm not! But shrimp burger is just-". He keeps your face smushed against his, dopey smile and shimmering eyes appearing as he presses it even further to shut you up, "I get hungry, alright?"

A giggle leaves your lips as your nose continues smushing against his skin, "let me smell you for a bit."

"You're weird," he blushes before he can finish the sentence, praying that you can't feel his heated face.

"So are you, but I don't hold it against you," you speak against his neck, inhaling deeply before letting his scent fill your lungs. He always smelled like soap, a faint cologne you never learned the name of, and there was always something more. In his scent, there was a strange feeling of home, and the crevice of his neck was where you found solace on many different occasions. Now, all you want is to bury yourself in him, to breathe into him and never forget what it feels like; to freeze the picture of him grazing his fingers in your legs and scrolling absentmindedly on his phone, a vague flush on his face and his glasses moving whenever you nudge your face even deeper into him.

"How's life away from me?" Jeongin questions after some time, the words waking you up from the haze.

He's still looking at his phone, but you know he isn't paying attention to it. There were some limits for questions between you two, "what are you up to?" means "who are you seeing?", "how are your friends?" is "are you just friends with them?" and "how's life away from me" means "do you miss me?". These limits were built by years of silent pining and the acknowledgment that you could lose the other by demanding something.

Love me in the way I want to be loved, don't leave me and stay with me forever.

These promises were too big, and the consequences too hard to face when you had so much of life to uncover, but the extreme ache, the invisible chains that constricted your hearts were even harder.

"It's good, don't flatter yourself with this treatment," you kiss his cheek, moving to smell his hair and earning a chuckle from him, "it's just that your shampoo is hard to find."

"And you're trying to memorize the notes to search it up?"

"Exactly. You're so smart, Innie."

You already know by heart every note and scent of his shampoo. You also know the ones in his moisturizer, toner, and sunscreen. Strawberries, grapes and chemicals. Their names, prices and replacements are stored in the back of your mind; you know how to use and slather each one of them— you did it countless times before, sitting down with him and washing his frail hair and applying his endless skincare routine.

Sometimes you wonder how you two would look in a few years; if he would smell like soap and strawberries still; if he would keep this haircut and colour; if he would still love you. You never imagine you two married, you know you wouldn't be, and none of you would risk losing what you have now for uncertainty—or certainty.

Jeongin wonders if you would ever cross these lines for him, if you would beg and plead and cry for him to love you. He imagines what it would look like if this situation happened to his more intense, less lowkey friends.

With Hyunjin and his newest fling, things would happen somewhere between the lines of "I will stay" and a teary "don't tell me that, you never do. Don't lie to me anymore," he was sure of it. Jeongin cringes at that, it was nothing like you two. With you two, things would end in silence and awkward moments. Someone would cry, probably him.

"What was that?" he hears your indistinct words.

"Nothing. Thought about Hyunjin. He's dating this new girl."

"Mhm, good for him. Is she pretty?"

"Way out of his league," he laughs as you kiss his forehead, an exasperated sigh stuck on both of your throats. Dating, he's dating.

"Good, maybe now he can stop stealing you away from me," you slip out of the bed holding a hand to him, "don't wanna share you."

He grabs your hand almost immediately, blindly following you as he always did, then don't, he wants to say. "You do have a problem with sharing stuff," is what he says. He means it.

You stop in your tracks, hastily turning to him and looking deep into his eyes—gleaming, twinkling and making a mess out of his feelings. Planting a kiss on his lips, your fingers enlace his locks as you feel his hands on your waist, and you cackle shortly after, "I don't think I'm ever sharing you with someone."

'I like to pretend you're mine', is what it means.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," and you have no words for him. I like you, I love you, you're mine, "you have no game, loser. Let's go eat."

"I'm still tired," he pulls you into him again, smirking while pecking your lips, pink lipgloss staining his skin and leaving squeaking shiny patches on yours, "let's go back to bed."

You don't open your lips to speak, his remarkable scent that now you yearn to inhale asphyxiating you and engulfing your body until you're sick, needing him but hating to live without a definite answer, every part of you begging, claiming and calling do you love me, do you love me?

It almost leaves your lips when you part his' with your tongue. It almost leaves his when you do it. Just friends, he repeats. It pains you to repeat yourself, "Stay with me. This can be your house too."

"Don't ruin the moment," yes.

You sigh. "Let's eat," don't lie to me.

You two weren't Hyunjin or any of his friends, so there was no need for an intense and passionate fight, a full-blown tantrum and artistic sentences. You pass the ketchup to him, he passes the napkins, and you two have a nice, mild conversation about the horrible weather.

After the meal, you wash his hair with your shampoo. He tries to memorize the smell and the texture for when he moves away from everything that reminds him of you—he doesn't need to try to memorize you, he knows how you look, sounds and feel.

He smells like you now, and for the following week you try to make him more and more yours. You wash his clothes, spray your perfume on them, and kiss him with your pink cherry lipgloss. He notices, of course, and so desperately prays for some force to abruptly make him more outspoken, more demanding and less avoidant; he needs someone to cast a spell on him so that he will be obliged to say the three words out loud before he hops into that plane and leave you for good.