to broaden a reader’s world.

you swore you started seeing him everywhere now. and every time he walked by you, he looked at you with something you couldn't quite figure out.

by week four, you were sure he was doing this on purpose.

bumping into you and slyly looking at your lips, thinking you wouldn't notice. holding your waist just for a few seconds to pass by you in tight spaces, like near the tiny elevator.

you could never escape yang jungwon.

so it didn't surprise you when you saw him cooped up, trying to work one of the machines in the laundry room. you walked down the stairs, basket in hand with a little smile seeing his confused face.

"you're supposed to insert the coin." you said, walking next to him as you saw his eyes light up at the sight of you.

"i did, about four of them." he said, scratching the back of his with an embarrassed look.

you took a closer look at the laundry machine, hitting it once or twice. you sighed as you looked back at him, crossing your arms. "you got one of the faulty machines, there's only a few good ones that work around here."

"gosh really?" he said, you swore you could hear a whimper behind the hands that covered his face.

"i wonder why they still keep this shitty place up." he said, sighing.

"swear this place is some kind of money laundering scheme." you joked, trying to cheer him up due to his loss of four coins. "i'm telling you, i heard a slot machine at the back the other day."

jungwon laughed, his voice like honey. you've never heard his laugh before, but now you'd give anything to hear it again.

"didn't know you've got a sense of humour, honey." there it was again, that damn nickname. your breath hitched as he looked at you with his dreamy daze.

you cleared your throat, reaching for your basket but he moved faster. fast enough to block any exit for you to escape. his hand slid next to the machine next to you, leaning into you. everything moved so fast yet so slow.

"jungwon─" the air between you thickened as you let his name out your mouth.

"funny...we keep seeing each other everywhere." his eyes now locked onto yours.

"well, we live next to each other." you shrugged, trying to act unfazed by how nervous he made you.

"just feels more than a coincidence, yeah?" jungwon raises his eyebrow with a smirk plastered on his face.

"i don't...believe in fate." you say, looking away from him with a flushed face. truth is, you actually didn't believe in the word fate, not one bit.

it was merely a myth your mother told you during your nightly bedtime stories, it never felt realistic to you. so why did it feel like it was just out of arms reach now?

"mm, but i do, honey." jungwon leaned in closer, his lips just an inch away from yours. gosh, the things you'd do to pull him by the collar and join your lips together.

his eyes fell down to your lips, plump and so kissable. if only he could ditch everything that was hiding him back and pull you into his arms in that laundry room. your back pressed against the machine as his hand came incredibly close to your waist, but he never quite touched you.

he could see how nervous you looked, jungwon could almost hear your heart pounding out of your chest. it was the cutest sight he'd ever seen.

his eyes shifted, away from your lips and away from your face. he plucked a stray coin from the machine you were resting against.

"lucky penny." jungwon stepped back as he whispered.

you broke away from your daze immediately, clearing your throat quietly. jungwon smirked again, looking back at you with those eyes again, the eyes that said everything his mouth couldn't.

"see you around, honey." he said, leaving your place, going to the other room of the laundry place, leaving you there a blushing mess.

one more 'honey' from his mouth and you swore you would be his.

𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗕𝗙! 𝗛𝗘𝗘

he pretends to be unbothered whenever you tease him to death. he thinks hes soooo nonchalant. but internally, he's a blushing tomato and you could tell to when his ears turn red whenever you call him your 'pretty boy'.

other people call him aloof. aloof my ass! the moment your clumsy self trips on air and falls on your face, he comes running from the other side of the hall to see if you were bruised.

he'd scold you as he gently patches you up. you roll your eyes playfully at him with the way he nags so much for a rather cold guy.

he'll also walk you home everyday, without a miss. you'd ask him if your house is this way ( it's not ) but he'll act like it is, even if it means detouring his route. cutie

𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗕𝗙! 𝗛𝗘𝗘

he's not really good with words, you can't expect any love letters either or long speeches from him. but rather, you can see his love from the way he acts.

heeseung gives you forehead kisses from time to time, backhugs you and never lets go, whispers sweet nothings to your ear and makes you giggle all the time.

he's the first one to know if you're upset. it's like his boyfriend senses tingles whenever you pout. but he really doesn't know what to do. he just hugs you and runs his fingers through your hair.

although it doesn't mean as much, you know it's his way of showing you he cares.

you know he never says it. but you can tell from the way he acts, he loves you a lot.

⠀ join the taglist 💌 @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @voikiraz @miumura @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @aishigrey @firstclassjaylee @rikislove @hynjinnnnnnnn @flwrstqr @manariee @rue-jenni @kristynaaah @wooonter

You both giggled as you headed to your literature class. The two of you entered the classroom and took your seats—Minju slid into a spot a few rows behind you.

Your back straightened against the seat and a fresh page turned on your pink notebook, you waited for the teacher to settle down to start teaching about poetic devices or whatever was in the syllabus. Everything flew smoothly for you.

The peers around you seemed a bit confused, struggling to take down notes, but with your black gel pen and the stickers you set aside, it was a piece of cake.

Academics were never a problem for you. Always present and ready to learn, mathematical formulas and physics concepts flew into your mind with ease. Your essay skills were impeccable, and many teachers were impressed with your memory. Well, no wonder you were the top student. You had everything—looks, brains, and luck by your side.

Class ended sooner than you had expected. You were already out of your seat, packing your things, waiting for Minju. You closed your notebook when someone approached you. Still focusing on your books, you didn’t bother to look up.

He cleared his throat, hands in his pocket. “Hey.”

You looked up at him with a smile, even though his face was quite unfamiliar. His hair fell in soft waves above his eyes. His lips were pouty with a soft pink dew on them. A faint blush lingered on his cheeks as if it belonged there—everything about him looked natural. From his brown eyes that met yours to his backpack that slung over his shoulder, he seemed put together.

His uniform was neatly ironed, yet he draped a gray hoodie over his frame. His shirt was tucked in his slacks, though his tie hung loosely around his neck. You looked over at his name stitched on his badge.

Yang Jungwon.

The name left an unfamiliar trace in your mind. You felt like you had seen him around, cooped up in a corner or getting banana milk with his friends, but the memories of him sat at the back of your mind. Of course, he was simply a background character in your life, simply existing, never colliding with your world.

Until now.

“What’s up?” you asked him, confusion laced in your voice.

“Uh, nothing much? Just wanted to ask you if you were free this weekend?”

Oh?

Wow, you must be on a roll today. Already getting a confession before the clock even struck nine. A confession in broad daylight. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged the ends of your lips.

It was sweet, really. The cute nerdy guy who seemed like he has never had the courage to speak to you finally does. Though he does seem like your type, you barely knew the guy—only hearing about him from your friend’s daily gossip sessions sometimes.

He never crossed your mind once. His name falling out of your friends’ lips, your mind barely registering it, and to be forgotten in a few minutes when Minju brings up her new crush or what she had for lunch that day.

Yet here he was, standing in front of you.

A shameless yet sweet confession out of his mouth already.

“So fast? We just met.” You couldn't help but giggle.

Though, Jungwon’s face stayed the same.

“I mean, I get it,” you went on. Your voice seemed a bit too confident. “It’s not the first time this has happened. You seem like my style, really! But I mean, we don’t even know each other. I’m sure there are other girls willing to spend time with you. You seem like a great guy—handsome even.”

You offered him your signature smile—the kind that made the seniors fall on their knees and the shy boys leave letters in your locker.

Though Jungwon didn’t waver. Instead, he turned his head in confusion.

“Huh?”

How cute! He’s embarrassed.

You giggled at him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be shy about it. Everyone has crushes. I’ve heard lots of confessions that end this way. But I think it's cute you have the courage to ask me out.”

“I’m sorry—confessions?”

You nodded.

He let out a breathy laugh and turned his head to the side, almost as if he was in disbelief. He was amused by your… confidence. Suddenly, you were the confused one.

“You thought I was asking you out?” Jungwon raised a brow.

“Weren’t you?” you said, slower this time. The confidence that was radiating out of you dimmed down and crumbled into a little ball.

Jungwon bit back his smile, shaking his head. “We’re project partners,” he explained. “Miss Bae gave the list of partners yesterday.”

Everything fell into place.

Idiot!

If only you had dragged yourself to school yesterday instead of laying in bed all day and binge-watching Gossip Girl, you wouldn't be standing here utterly humiliated. You felt like the stupidest person alive. Not only did you assume he liked you when he barely talked to you—you rejected him!

You blinked, your lips parting in horror. “Oh.”

Jungwon looked over at your name on your badge and back at your flustered face—red as ever. “Y/N, is it?”

He didn’t even know your name!

You sighed and nodded, holding your books tight. The chestnut-haired boy could only be amused by your embarrassed state.

Jungwon pursed his lips into a line, his grip on the strap of his bag tightening. “So, this weekend? I'll send you the details.”

“Huh—oh, right. For the project.” You gulped and nodded quickly, your eyes darting anywhere but at him.

“For the project,” Jungwon chuckled. “See you then.”

He turned to leave but paused at the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder—his expression remained unreadable as always.

“And thanks for the compliment, by the way, Y/N,” Jungwon said before disappearing into the hallway.

Rejecting someone who wanted nothing to do with you romantically was probably a new low for you. What was worse was that you would have to meet him again and work with him. You gulped at the thought of it, already dreading the awkward tension you would have to face this weekend.

You groaned, looking back at your desk, only to be met with Minju’s amused face. Was she watching the entire time? Oh gosh.

Minju opening her mouth to say something was definitely a snarky remark, only for you to shut her down. “Don’t even start.”

You glared at her. Because she was the last of your worries. She wasn’t what was going to kill you.

This project was.

You would never recover from this. Ever.

Minju sat with you at lunch alongside Moka, both of them still giggling at what had happened yesterday in literature class.

“Guys, can you cut it out?” you groaned, putting your head on the table. At least the cafeteria helped drown out the whines you let out due to your embarrassment.

You were sure of it—they would write about this in the textbooks. Your face on the cover and the word “delusional” written under it in big red letters. You were always lucky. Everyone was sure of it. So why wasn’t it helping now?

You waved at the universe, looking for any sign of the luck that drowned out the moment you had your first conversation with Yang Jungwon. Why did your luck run out the moment he stepped into your world? You’d never have this problem with any other guy.

Why him? Why now? Why!

You tried to gulp your embarrassment away with the banana milk you drank, hoping it would help at least (it did not). Moka and Minju were amused—they’d never seen you like this. Heck, you’d never seen yourself like this.

You always had a smile on your face, giggling about some stupid thing. Whether it was a new David Corenswet picture or brand new gossip that had erupted from the girls’ locker room, you had never had a bad day.

Only able to sigh, you accepted your fate. This was your final form—you could only embrace it.

You raised your head again to take a sip from your miserable banana milk (much like how you felt), only to spot the same chestnut-haired boy again. That same tie that was there yesterday still hung loose around his neck. A taller boy by his side had his arm around Jungwon.

You huffed. “No seriously. Who even is he?”

Moka giggled at your state. You crossed your arms and scrunched your eyebrows as you darted your eyes over to the boys across the room.

Minju shrugged. “I’ve seen him around. Once or twice maybe. He doesn’t really talk much.”

Moka nodded at Minju’s statement. “He’s always hanging with that Riki guy.”

“Riki?” You turned your head to Moka.

Moka nodded as she ate her food, her mouth full. “He’s oddly quiet—other than with Riki. I’m surprised they’re friends when Riki’s, like, really loud.” Moka snorted, joking after gulping down her food.

Your gaze turned back to the elder boy, joking around with the younger. They both looked happy, not having a care in the world. Riki poked his chopsticks into Jungwon’s food, stealing some of his snacks while giggling.

Jungwon’s face formed a smirk, similar to the one he’d had yesterday. The shame from yesterday came wallowing back to you. The unsettling memories left a fresh stain on your mind.

“This project is going to kill me, literally!” you whined once more, pouting at your friends as you looked up at them.

“One embarrassing moment won’t end you, Y/N,” Minju reassured you.

“Yeah, welcome to the world, Y/N. People get embarrassed on the daily. C’mon, I literally tripped on air in front of Jake yesterday,” Moka joked, while Minju snorted.

“Hey, if it helps, we are going to that party later. Maybe getting wasted is what you need right now,” Moka nudged your shoulder.

Your lips twitched as you blinked at Moka. You muttered under your breath, “Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, leaning on her shoulder.

“Hell yeah, you are going to forget about him the moment you dunk down that soju,” Minju giggled enthusiastically.

Minju was right. Maybe getting absolutely drunk off cheap alcohol from Jay’s party was what you needed. Maybe—just maybe—you would finally forget about Jungwon and that stupid smirk of his that kept running around in your mind.

You brushed him out of your mind. You only had one plan now: getting absolutely wasted.

You had already downed your second drink, feeling the slight burn in your throat when Minju shoved half an empty carton in your face.

“Trust me,” she said enthusiastically as she poured the juice into your glass filled with vodka. She seemed far too excited for someone who was trying to mix alcohol with the cheapest juice she could find. “This is like, life changing.”

You could barely hear her over the speakers that shook the walls. Jake’s house was hot and stuffy, filled with teenagers who had a far lower tolerance than they bragged about. You swore you could hear someone throwing up in the corner of the house. Gross. But this was the default pack of a badly thrown party at some teenager’s house while their parents were out and about, blindly trusting their children to behave.

And you were supposed to be enjoying it.

“Minju, you just made vodka cranberry,” you deadpanned, sighing after you took a sip from the drink.

“The vodka cranberry,” she insisted, pushing the drink back to your face as she forced you to take another sip—clinking her glass against yours. “Cheers!”

So this is why Moka left the both of you the moment you stepped foot here.

One more minute with Minju would make your head explode. You knew she would be drunk off her ass in about another thirty minutes or so and you would have to hold her hair while she threw up in the toilet.

You glanced around the room for any sign of Moka, but she was nowhere to be found. That fucking genius—you should’ve known when she went to take a fifteen-minute bathroom break. The music that bounced off the walls drowned out Minju’s loud voice as you looked around the room.

Just then, your eyes landed on him. Yang Jungwon.

What the fuck?

Why was he even here? You narrowed your eyes as you watched him lean against the wall, talking to Jake.

“Y/n, look!” Minju said, unusually bubbly—the vodka had gotten to her. “It’s Jake!” She squealed like she hadn’t seen him yesterday.

Before you knew it, Jake was already waving at you both, signalling you over. Minju grabbed you, pulling you through the sweaty bodies of teenagers packed in the living room.

“Hey guys! I didn’t know you were coming.” Jake greeted you both with a grin. “Oh! By the way, have you met Jungwon?” Jake asked, his gaze flickering over towards you.

You caught Jungwon’s faint smirk out of the corner of your eye as he stared intently at you. Jungwon shoved one hand in his pocket while the other held a drink as he leaned against the wall again—his eyes never leaving you.

“Oh, she knows him alright.” Minju giggled, nudging you playfully, which made you elbow her lightly in the ribs before faking a smile.

“I’ve seen him around,” You said, your gaze falling on Jungwon for a second.

“Me too,” Jungwon said, and you could almost hear the smugness in his voice.

You swallowed the sudden tightness that settled in your throat. The air surrounding you felt warm suddenly as you looked at him again. This time, that smirk of his was replaced by a genuine smile, like he was amused to see you. His smile ran through your mind and made you weak in the knees.

Why was he already getting in your head?

“Right, I’m going to get some more drinks,” Jake said, clapping his hands before you could speak.

Minju’s eyes lit up—of course they would. She tagged along before Jake could say anything, already on her way to the kitchen.

So that just left you and Jungwon here in the corner of a stuffy living room while other teenagers were either throwing up or making out.

“You’re drinking?” you asked him.

“No, before you start assuming again, it’s grape juice.” His words brought back flashbacks you wished you could forget.

“I wasn’t—” you groaned. “I’m sorry, alright?. You would assume too if you got confessions almost every day.”

“Oh, right. Who knew the pretty girl had real problems too.” Jungwon chuckled, taking a sip of his grape juice, looking smug.

You mentally scoffed, ignoring how your heart skipped a beat when that nickname rolled out of his mouth so smoothly and the way he looked at you.

Jungwon’s smirk wasn’t just teasing you—he was enjoying watching your nervous self, like seeing you fumble over your words was peak entertainment. You caught yourself fidgeting with the hem of your tiny skirt as his words echoed through your head.

“Are you… mocking me?”

“No, I’m amused,” Jungwon corrected you.

Tilting your head slightly, you asked, “Yeah, amused how?”. For a moment you could see something flicker over his eyes before it returned to his smug self.

He leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving you. “You know, Moka and Jake are right there, waiting for you to join them,” he said, jerking his head towards the pair behind you.

“And I know you saw them.” He was insanely close to you; the distance between you and Jungwon was shrinking by the second, and every alarm in your head went off, screaming at you to step back—except you didn’t.

What shook you more was how he noticed. He noticed every single detail about you: how your hands were slightly trembling and how your eyes shifted to Moka and Jake earlier, yet you stayed still, talking to Jungwon. He read you like an open book, and that terrified you.

“Yet you’re still standing here, talking to me.” Jungwon finally looked at you again, his gaze towering over you, making your knees buckle.

Jungwon’s eyes held a thousand unspoken words, yet none of them were easy to read. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding so fiercely that Jungwon could have heard it too if he listened close enough. The music, the people, the chaos all faded into the background. At that moment, it felt like it was just you and him.

“I could ask you the same,” you whispered, barely able to hear your own voice. “Why haven’t you left?”

“Maybe I like what I’m seeing.” He had that shit-eating grin on his face again, which you wanted to rip off so badly.

Because, fuck, no matter how hard you tried to stay steady and unfazed, your heart fluttered and your mind spun. And this time, you knew it wasn’t the alcohol hitting. It was the boy in front of you making your knees weak.

By the end of that party, you learned three things: Minju was shit at taking shots, Jungwon was a big flirt, and your heart was definitely swelling.

The café seemed calm while your mind buzzed with chaos—thoughts roamed around your head, each one ending with the boy you were dreading to see: Yang Jungwon.

You sat stiffly on the chair, gulping down your matcha, surprised at yourself for getting out of bed early and spending quite an amount of time on what your outfit would be. This wasn’t like you at all.

You glanced at your phone again; ten minutes had passed yet still no sign of the boy.

So you were now early and nervous. Fuck, how much of a loser were you?

Hunching your back, you rested your head in your hands. You tried to ignore the relentless thumps ofin your heart. You were never like this. Being nervous about a boy you met less than two days ago. It felt unfamiliar and annoying, that uneasy warmth in your heart that made your stomach turn.

Usually, it was you who made people nervous. Never the other way around. You were the girl that made boys fall to your feet when you flashed them a smile. So thoughts of a boy who had ticked you off at that party not even ten hours ago made your skin crawl—or worse, it made you flustered.

You? Flustered? You’d laugh at the assumption, but then again it was true. The heat on your cheeks alone was enough to give it away. It was ridiculous. Thinking of a boy who made your knees buckle when you made others stammer and fumble their words.

With the thoughts of the boy out of your head, your fingers tapped against the ceramic mug in your hand. You remained relaxed and composed, yet your heart was pounding in your chest. All you could think of was when he’d walk through that door.

Just then, the boy you dreaded to see finally showed up—clad in a hoodie he threw on with headphones around his neck. His hair was messy yet effortlessly chic as always, and his cheeks had that same blush which you recognised from the other day—the one where you were utterly humiliated by him.

“You’re late,” you spoke, looking up at him.

“By ten minutes. I hardly call that late.” Jungwon chuckled—bringing butterflies to your stomach as he threw his bag on the table, taking a seat in front of you.

“We could’ve gone through the entire overview of the assessment by that time,” you huffed. You really didn’t know why you were already putting up a fight; maybe you wanted to raise your walls up or strengthen your defenses before he made a blushing mess out of you again.

“Sure. Whatever you say, pretty.” Jungwon pulled out his laptop, the nickname rolling off his tongue naturally, like he always called you that.

You were already blushing. Get it together!

You rolled your eyes, hoping he didn't see the warmth creeping up your cheeks. You opened your own laptop, finally starting to work.

“What part are you doing?” Jungwon asked, his eyes prying away from the screen.

“The research. You’ll be handling the analysis and the conclusions,” you said, typing away on your keyboard, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that.

“Mhm,” he hummed. The more you looked at him—through the secret glances amidst your typing—the more effortlessly handsome he looked. Fuck, you couldn’t let him get to your head.

You tried to focus, typing a few notes here and there and jumping to different websites from time to time, yet you couldn’t shake that feeling off your head.

That feeling when your heart skipped a beat whenever he looked in your direction. Your ears grew red whenever he muttered something under his breath or whenever he made a flirty remark, calling you pretty again like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Does this make sense?” you asked him, pointing at your laptop.

His eyes shifted in a second; he looked at you and then your laptop. He needed a better look, so what better than to sit next to the empty seat beside you. Without another thought, he plopped right into the chair beside you, his shoulders brushing over yours.

“Hmm? Which one?” he said, his eyes scanning over the document.

“This part. I think I should be a bit more specific, but it could be interpreted in many ways, you know,” you explained, your hand steady on the mouse as you pointed to the paragraph you’d been eyeing for the past few minutes.

“Yeah, but it’d help if you made it clearer,” Jungwon said, leaning over to see your screen better. “Like this part.” He said, his hand slowly sliding over yours on top of the mouse and dragging it around to highlight some words.

Jungwon was going to be the death of you.

The document in front of you was long forgotten; you could only think about the boy next to you and how he held your hand. His palm was soft and warm. The background music from the café became a blur as the faint chatter faded into the background.

It felt like time stopped and you could only hear your heartbeat. And you were pretty sure he could hear it too.

“You don’t have to be this nervous, pretty.” He whispered, not looking at you but his hand stayed on top of yours, not moving an inch.

“I’m not—don’t call me that.” You muttered, a desperate whine escaping your lips before you could stop it.

He only chuckled at you. “You’re shaking.” Jungwon finally met your gaze with a lazy smile. He was way too close. Like if he moved another inch closer, your heart would explode.

The boy looked down at your legs which were slightly shaking to the side. A chuckle escaped his lips as he looked back at you, knowing you basically proved his point.

“Relax, it’s just me.” He said, this time his smile wasn’t teasing—It was soft and genuine. Like he wanted to ease your mind, which wasn’t helping.

Instead, you were a mess inside. Your breath hitched as your fingers tightened around the mouse. The composure you’d held until now was fleeting away. He was calm and you were the exact opposite. Chaotic and a blushing mess.

Relax, it’s just me.

The words replayed in your head as he looked at you. It was just him, and that’s what frightened you.

Meeting him once already sent your heart to cardiac arrest, but meeting him multiple times over the days prior to the presentation; you ascended into the afterlife. Though there wasn’t any tension between you too, there was a warm feeling rising over you that you couldn't exactly put your finger on. 

You’d smile at his silly jokes he’d crack when he’d get bored of whatever he was typing down and your heart would slightly flutter when your hands brushed against him.

You swore your heart skipped a beat when he pulled out a chair next to him for you to sit and when he would adjust your work with your laptop, leaning over so he could get a better look. You were slightly embarrassed ( that was an understatement, you were tomato red ) when your cheeks felt warm after his cologne filled your nostrils. 

After working with Jungwon over the weekends and during the evenings after school, you came straight to bed hating the entire time you spent with him, but why were you waiting for the next time you saw him?

It was all a big mess in your heart—you didn't like the boy but you blush every time he looks at you. You hated thinking about him yet he always finds a place in your mind. You hated that little smile he does whenever he glances over at you or whenever he teasingly crosses out whatever you wrote on your shared google docs. So why did it bring a smile to your face? The boy you loathed and swore to make him feel the humiliation you felt bringing butterflies to your stomach?

Over the weeks, he had grown increasingly comfortable with you. Instead of sitting in front of you, he’d now take his place beside you claiming it was ‘easier to see your work’. With shared earbuds, drinks with two straws in one and far too many accidental brushes of his hand against yours—your heart was completely doomed. 

Jungwon had caught you staring sometimes. Sometimes was an understatement, it was many times actually. Yet he never said anything. That stupid smirk was on his face again whenever you looked at his direction a bit too long. It was like he knew, he knew the mess going on in your head and the relentless thuds from your heart. 

It wasn’t fair. It was never fair. The way he leaned in to hear you better and how he always smelled like vanilla and cologne. The way his voice dropped whenever your name rolled off his tongue like it was made for him. 

But it was especially unfair when he called you ‘pretty’.

He had no right to make your heart beat like this whenever he called you his adored nickname. ‘Pretty’ was the name he’d give to the girl he loves, not to you. Not to the girl who mistook his conversation for a confession. 

What you didn’t like the most about Jungwon was how he noticed you. Not the girl you claimed to be—the pretty, lucky junior who made boys fall to her feet.

It was the girl who secretly liked watching Gossip Girl and always snacked on sweets at midnight. It wasn’t Miss Perfect with Jungwon, it was just you. Just Y/n. You never had to be someone else, someone the world had wanted. He never expected anything from you— not your perfect image or the version of yourself that you put out. 

Sure, you loved being confident and a girl everyone adored, but a routine that had been your second skin was tiring. Knowing you could never step out of that without other people criticizing you was suffocating.

But with him, everything changed. Your laughs had become more genuine, your eyes had that glimmer in them that meant something. It was the real you.

“You know, you do that thing with your nose when you’re focused.” Jungwon had said once. It was a casual observation that you knew no one had noticed.

“What thing?” You turned your head towards him.

“That little scrunch. Like this.” He scrunched his own nose, showing you.

You blinked, letting out a breathy laugh. “No I don’t!”

“Hmm, but you do. It’s cute, really.” He said with that same teasing smirk. With that he returned to his work, acting like it wasn’t a big deal not knowing your heart kept pounding for the next few minutes. 

You weren’t used to that.

You were never really used to being seen. Never really used to being noticed past that perfect girl facade. You were just a lucky girl in front of everybody's eyes—a thing with Jungwon was to his eyes, you were Y/n. The girl who always took the last chip whenever he shared a snack ( which he leaves it for ) and the girl whose eyes lit up whenever she finished a part of the project. 

He got to know you. Through your stupidly cute anecdotes or your habits like doodling on the side of his notes. He’d catch himself smiling at the little things you wrote on his book when he went back home or how you’d be rambling along about something that happened in your day.

“Minju genuinely hates me, I swear!” You sighed, typing something on your document.

You kept rambling on about something that happened at school, “Why would she put me on the spot like that? In front of the teacher too!” Jungwon leaned his hand on his palm, completely disregarding his work.

Jungwon watched you with an amused smile, “I mean, you did forget the work. You’re lucky  he gave you an extension.” He said, tilting his head slightly.

You looked at him, “You’re taking her side?”

“No, I’m just saying.” He shrugged, innocently.

You darted your eyes at him, “And when I thought I needed you. You take someone else’s side. Wow.” You sigh, a pout forming on your lips.

“You know I'd take your side, pretty.” Jungwon looked straight at your eyes. His hand slowly came up near your face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “All I’m saying is let her go this once.”

You stopped breathing. 

He was so close to you. So close. The world around you blurred until it was only the two of you—sitting in that cafe. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed ever so lightly against your cheek as he retrieved it back.

You swallowed hard, looking away as his smile deepened. “Whatever. Get back to work, Wonie.” You muttered, trying to ignore that unfamiliar feeling in your chest.

Before you realized, you let out a nickname that was unfamiliar to you. But now it was too late to take it back. Jungwon on the other hand froze. His smile shifted into something different, something softer. 

“What did you call me?” His eyes gleamed as his voice dropped. Jungwon tilted his head, his tone playful as he looked at you with that little grin of his. 

You blinked. “No–nothing!” You looked away as you stammered over your words. Gosh, he was never going to let this go.

“No, you called me something.” Jungwon’s voice was soft, he seemed to actually like what you said. So much so, that your heart fluttered at his dashing smile. “Wonie.” He smiled, saying it outloud. “I like it, you should call me that more often.” 

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Don’t make it a thing!”

“Nope, too late.” He chuckled as he crossed his arms. “Wonie’s my name now, right, pretty?”

“Whatever.” You mumbled, getting back to your work. 

But your breath hitched, you could feel your throat tightening as you looked at him. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He leaned back against his chair as he turned to his laptop, starting to type again. 

Was he ever oblivious to the fact that he made you crazy? Did he realize that your heart swelled up whenever he was around or how your cheeks turned red when he looked at you with those eyes.

He never knew how you felt when his voice softened when talking to you—or how he noticed every little thing about you that other people would look past by. He always listened, even if it was as stupid as Minju snitching on you or how you were almost late to class. 

You looked back at Jungwon, leaned back against the chair and focused on his screen. He always managed to look this effortlessly good. Like he didn’t care about anything yet making your heart run marathons. 

You almost caught yourself smiling yet you stopped yourself before Jungwon would catch you staring at him. You turned back to your screen, only being able to focus on the work at hand rather than thinking about the boy next to you.

Minutes passed into hours and before you knew it, you were already done with going through the slides. The busy cafe from a while back had now emptied with the sunny sky turning into a dusky lavender. The stars had begun to set on the sky as the moon was visible enough. 

You stretched your arms back as you let out a quiet sigh, “I’m done.” you muttered, closing your laptop after saving everything. 

“Perfect timing,” Jungwon flashed a smile at you, as he closed his laptop. 

“You’re going home?” You said, seeing his pace while packing his bag.

To your surprise, he only shook his head no. “I can’t go home. I have to drop you off.” He said, a soft smile still on his face as he looked at you after packing his bag. 

“Jungwon, you don’t have to do that.” You glanced at him as you slung your tote bag over your shoulders. 

You both walked out the cafe, you followed him out as he opened the door for you. “You know I can’t let you go out alone this late.”

“You do realize I’m not a kid.” You scoffed at him, crossing your arms as you walked by him.

“Are you sure?” He snickered, making you pout.

You hit his shoulder lightly, “You’re so annoying.” You muttered. 

He only smiled at you, looking at your pouty face the entire time like he was enjoying teasing you. 

The city around you felt quieter now. The traffic had subsided, the buzz around the streets calming down. The wind brushed against your legs, your arms involuntarily shivered as you rubbed your hands up and down both your arms.

Jungwon without saying a word, removed his jacket and pulled it over you. You blinked as you looked around yourself as he came closer to put it on you. Your confused face was soon replaced by a blush. “Jungwon—you didn’t have to do that. I’m not that cold.”

“Sure, let’s act like you’re not freezing.” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes playfully with a smile on your face as you quietly thanked him, pulling the jacket even closer to your body. His jacket smelt faintly of cologne—his scent. His gesture left you melting, though you could never show it.

“You’re so…hard to figure.” You said, breaking the silence. The thought slipped out of your mind, with his gesture being the one to push you to it.

“Hm?” He glanced at you, his hands reaching into his pockets.

“I mean, you don’t seem like the boy I met that day in class.” You uttered. 

“Ah, you mean the boy that got rejected without even confessing.” 

You sighed, hoping he’d already forgotten about it. “Seriously, let that go!”

“No, it’s one of our core memories now.” He looked at you with that shit-eating smile again.

“Well, you looked like you were about to! And how was I supposed to know? That was the first time you’ve talked to me. Before that, I thought you were like really cold and cut off from the world.”

He giggled at your words, “You thought I was cold?”

You shrugged as you walked on the cobble path, kicking a stone on the way. “You barely talked in class. I’m pretty sure I only knew you because of Minju.” You glanced at him. 

“Well you know me enough now to know I’d never be cold, not to you, pretty.” He smiled at you, not knowing he just made your heart flutter.

You mentally screamed, trying to keep your composure in front of him. “Seriously…I’d have to ask about a thousand questions to figure you out.” Your comment piqued his interest.

“Ask away.”

You glanced at him, caught off guard by whether he was being serious or not. He looked back at you, not with those teasing eyes anymore. He looked genuine. A sincere gaze on you, making your heart do backflips. 

You blinked, needing a moment before you were sure you could ask the question that had been gnawing at you for ages. “Why do you always call me pretty?”

Jungwon was quiet, like the question caught him off guard. But then, at the corner of your eyes you saw a small, faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Because you are. You’re very pretty.”

Jungwon said those words with ease, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Seeing you around the hallways with a wide smile and you focused with that little scrunch on your nose made you the prettiest girl to him. 

Trying to hide the fact that you were already blushing hard, you let out a small laugh trying not to believe him. “Be serious.”

“I am serious. Everytime I see you at school, with your friends. You seem so fit for it. Though I didn’t notice you then. But it was when you were quiet. When you felt like yourself, I just thought you were a really pretty girl.”

You didn’t even realize you stopped walking before his words hit you. “You’re pretty like this. You’re pretty always but especially like this.” 

You stared at him, stunned. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. Not without an angle or expecting something. It wasn’t a compliment that was passed by with your friends during lunch or soft nothings that were whispered to you during parties.

You broke the silence, “This is my house.” You looked at the gate. “I should get going. “ You sent him a tight smile.

“I should go before your Mom thinks I kidnapped you.” Jungwon joked.

You laughed, a faint flush showing on your face before you realized. “Oh right, your jacket.”

“No, keep it. You look better with it.”

“Jungwon…” He managed to leave you speechless again. What could you even say? That he was sweet? That he made your heart race? He only shrugged like it was nothing. Like he hadn't just lit up something in you and made your entire week. 

“Thank you, for this… and for tonight.” You smiled at him, a shy but genuine smile.

The boy only shook his head, brushing it off. “Anytime.”

“Goodnight, Wonie.” You opened the gate and faced him one last time. You could barely hear your own voice. 

“Goodnight, pretty.” He said, his tone was warm and familiar. And with that he left as you closed the gate. 

You stood there for a moment, trying to process what just happened. Your fingers curled around the edges of his jacket, the one that brought butterflies to your stomach and the warmth you so needed. 

The night felt calm for the first time in quite a long period. It was rare to see the Moon so still and everything grounded. And you knew why. You knew the reason was the boy that made your heart flutter a few minutes earlier.

It wasn’t his actions that stirred something in you, it was his words. It was how he saw you. It was real. Everything he said to you before was what was in his mind. Your heart thudded so hard, it made your fingers twitch at your sides.

You gulped as his words played in your mind again and again. His words were the type to make you feel seen. Under all those perfect words people called you or the eyes that looked at you with admiration, it was just a girl that was trying to get on with another day of her life trying to meet everyone’s expectations.

You weren’t used to this and you think you might never get used to it. To be seen without the word ‘perfect’ or ‘lucky’. To be known as Y/n and not anything else. To have a real personality that you could share proudly. You could never get used to it when you grew up chasing people’s views of what they saw you as in your mind and never what you wanted to be. 

To say that you were shaking was an understatement, your heart was fully pounding. And it wouldn’t stop. Your cheeks were warm and your stomach turned. This wasn’t because of the presentation you were currently doing, but because Jungwon was so close to you. Your shoulder brushed against his arm as he slightly bumped into you while explaining the slides.

It felt maddening—the way he alone made you this nervous without even uttering one word to you. When it was your turn to present, your fingers tightened on the iPad in your hands as you tried to keep composure and breeze through the slides easily.

And you were doing so good, amazing even. You tried to focus on the slide in front of you, looking back and forth between the class and the screen, but Jungwon leaned in ever so slightly as he adjusted his laptop and whispered, “You’re doing good.”

You swear you choked. You breath hitched as your eyes glanced at him for a split second. Clearing your throat, you continued on with your presentation, trying to focus. By the time you reached to the end, your palms felt sweaty and your head felt light. Jungwon stared at you the entire time with a faint smile on his face, his eyes not leaving you once. 

A polite wave of applause ( war flashbacks ) rose across the class as you flashed a smile, thankful that you were done. As you returned to your seat beside Jungwon, you finally could breathe as you sat down.

“Oh my gosh, I was about to pass out.” Though he would never know it was because of him and not the presentation.

Jungwon turned to look at you with that smile of his, “Really? You couldn’t tell at all.”

You let out a small laugh as you tucked your hair behind your ear. “I guess so. It was kinda hard since I was so nervous, but I guess I worked past it.” You grinned.

“Oh yeah?” His gaze deepened, he looked almost proud. “Good girl.” 

Oh my gosh. You almost lost it. You blinked at the boy beside, wondering if you heard that correctly. He only turned back and looked at the front of the class, not knowing his words made your heart swell twice the size it was. He was messing up your head without even knowing it. 

You looked away quickly, your eyes darting to the screen as you hoped he wouldn't see the rising heat on your cheeks. It took everything in you to not collapse in front of the whole class. All it took was one phrase, one look to make your stomach turn and your heart flip.

And it wasn't fair how easily he got you blushing. You busied yourself and continued listening to the lecture. You just hoped he didn't catch how you would glance at him every now and then, and how your ears would turn slightly red when his arm brushed against yours.

Class wrapped up sooner than you expected, comments about poems and proses died down as you stood up from your chair. You felt a small wave of relief wash over you. The boy next to you slung his bag over his shoulder as he waited for you to arrange your things.

Before you even knew it, a classmate approached you—the tall boy with a charming smile, everyone knew him and everyone liked him. “Y/n, your presentation was flawless by the way. You always manage to pull it off.”

And just like that, the switch flipped.

Your relaxed shoulders straightened and you put on a smile that never reached your eyes. You tucked a loose strand behind your ear as you replied, “You’re too sweet. I wouldn’t call it flawless, but thank you. I’ll accept your compliment this once.” You giggled. 

“Just once?” He joked, as he tilted his head slightly.

“Well, I can’t accept all compliments. My ego would be too big.” The laugh you gave was polite. It was short, it was rehearsed. You commented just enough for small talk, but nothing further than that. It was like muscle memory. It was the cost of being the perfect, adored girl.

But from the corner of your eye, you could see Jungwon. He had this smile on his face. One you haven’t seen before. It was more of an amusement rather than his regular one. He seemed surprised, almost like he was seeing an entirely different person. As the classmate left, you faced him. He raised an eyebrow as he met your eyes.

“What?” You asked him, confused.

“Nothing.” He dismissed it. “I’m starving, do you want to go eat? I know this good place down the street that serves pho.”

You nodded as your lips formed into a tight smile, “That sounds good.” 

The walk to the restaurant was quiet enough for your thoughts to roam. Jungwon next to you seemed completely oblivious to the heart ache you were having. He seriously cannot be this blind to how you blushed at almost anything he did.

Or he knew exactly how your heart swelled every time he called you pretty. He knew how you would internally melt whenever he did those small gestures that you didn’t even think he’d notice. Maybe he knew it all along and just didn’t say anything—and that somehow made it even worse.

The little pho place was tucked at the end of the street, next to a bakery. It seemed quiet and warm, you could already taste the pho from here. You entered the restaurant, the bell above you chimed as Jungwon opened the door and led you in.

You settled for a quiet spot, near the window and away from the crowd. Jungwon slid on the seat across yours. He barely glanced at the menu while you took yours in your hands and zoomed through it. It seemed like he visited this place a lot.

“You come here a lot?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Jungwon who was looking out the window finally looked at you, “Yeah, this place is quiet. Helps me think.”

“About?” Your curiosity piqued. “You talk like you're a philosopher, Wonie” You giggled. 

Jungwon let out a quiet laugh, his eyes crinkled as he shaked his head. “Well, mostly things in my life. Just when I need to get some peace and quiet.” 

Your shoulders relaxed as you leaned against your chair, “So what? This is your escape? The place that serves pho?” You asked, looking around.

“It might not be much, but it helps.” He shrugged, his hands played with the ends of his hoodie.

You almost seemed to notice Jungwon—you noticed his stillness against the buzz of the restaurant. His edges softened here, his guard let down and his thoughts flew all around the place, they were all raw and real. He seemed effortless to your eyes, but here, he felt like another boy who came to eat pho and nothing more. He almost seemed distant to the boy that bruised your ego weeks ago. 

The butterflies in your stomach rested, the blush on your face faded. The warmth that rested on your chest wasn't as uneasy as it was. You weren’t nervous. No, not anymore. You felt comfortable. 

You let yourself go from the facade that you held up. Your smile came easier, they reached your eyes and your laughs felt full and real as Jungwon and you both joked. Words from each other fell rhythmically like a harmonious ballad, 

When the waiter arrived, Jungwon let out his order without looking twice at the menu, “You should get the beef pho.” He suggested.

“Yeah? Is it good?” You said, skimming through the menu.

“Mhm,” He nodded. “You’d like it,” He said it like he knew you. Maybe he really did. 

Maybe he listened to all those pointless rants you said during the time you spent together. Maybe he knew what you liked and disliked by heart and maybe, just maybe, he saw you for who you really are. For the girl that wasn’t attached to the title of being the perfect and luckiest girl. 

“Hm, I'll trust you on this one.” You muttered before you ordered your meal.

The waiter left quickly, the gentle hum of the restaurant settled around you. The soft edge of the lights reflected against Jungwon, you had to double take—was he glowing?

Every time you looked at him, he looked more perfect. The few flaws he had completely disappeared. You had to pinch yourself to know if this was real, if he was real. Snap out of it, this isn’t like you. Or that’s what you thought, this isn’t like you.

It was never like you to think of a boy for more than a week. But Jungwon has been roaming around in your mind for longer than you knew. The faint voice of the boy had rested on your mind during countless nights, his face showing up in thoughts you would have throughout the day.

You were even daydreaming. Daydreaming! The all perfect girl, who usually other people dreamed about was now falling into the charms of the quiet boy across from her.

You were doomed. Your heart knew it before you. It knew from the moment he cornered you in Jake’s party. The way his body leaned close but not enough to make you uncomfortable, just enough to make you nervous.

His eyes lingered for more than needed, itching to say what was on his mind. His lips twitched whenever you spoke, a smile broke through even though it was the most pointless thing you’d say. It was how calm he acted when your head was a mess. He brought the stillness to your chaos. He was the balance to the commotion in your life—the fresh breath in a life that was rehearsed for you. 

This was the dangerous thing about Jungwon, he never seemed like the boy that would distract you, he never seemed to disrupt your world. He wasn’t loud, he wasn’t chaotic. He was quiet, he kept to himself a lot. He was just there, in the midst of everything. Everyone else was rushing, in a hurry but to you, he was still. His feet didn’t move once, Jungwon was grounded. Maybe that's why he was so collected. He didn’t let anyone else pull him aside. He stayed through the buzz of the crowd. He stayed still.

Jungwon never saw the world the way the others did. His eyes showed him a different view. An almost calm one, a one with no expectations, just raw and real feelings. It was the one that felt like himself the most. And there, he saw you. You, the girl who was true to herself and not the ones everyone else expected you to be. 

He saw the girl who smiled genuinely, the girl who’d be sad when she was. Who felt angry and frustrated when she wanted to be. Who’d laugh at the silliest things.

She was the girl who wanted to feel whatever she wanted. Not rehearsed feelings handed on a silver platter. Not practiced smiles or polished mannerisms. No, it was the girl who had emotions that a real human felt. It wasn’t one that belonged to a porcelain doll. It was hers. 

You looked at Jungwon, he was leaning back slightly against his chair. “Why haven’t you showed me this place before?” You asked, knowing this could have been a place you both studied at.

“I don’t really bring people here.” His gaze fixed on you with a smile. “I mean, I brought Riki here once, but he was too loud—I’m pretty sure the owner glared at him multiple times.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I should be lucky that I got to come here with you.” You nodded, looking around and taking in the smell of the rich food around you.

“I wouldn’t call that lucky. Maybe I brought you here because I like you.” His smile stayed on. “I don’t talk to a lot of people, my only friends are probably Jake, Riki and the librarian. It’s kinda unexpected that I’m here with you.”

You titled your head, “Unexpected?”

“Mm, I didn’t expect to like you, Y/n.” Jungwon muttered. “I don’t think you did either. But I'm glad I’m here with you.”

“You’re right.” You said, playing with the rim of your glass absentmindedly. “You made me see a lot of things about me. Things I didn't even know I had.” You giggled, realizing how much of a blind eye you turned to yourself. “It’s just… I don’t have to pretend. It’s comfortable being around you, not exhausting.”

“Good,” Jungwon whispered. “I don’t want you to be someone else around me. I want you to be you.” Every word he said tugged at your heart as you swallowed your breath.

Just then, two steaming bowls of pho arrived—the waiter set them in front of you. You took in the scent of the rich broth as you brought your bowl near you. You picked up your chopsticks to take a bite.

Jungwon seemed to be enjoying his food, well he’s been here long enough to know the food was good. “This is amazing, Wonie.” You say, your eyes widening as the taste of the broth settles in your mouth. 

He giggles as he places a piece of his chicken in your bowl, “I’m glad you like it, pretty. Eat this too.” You took the piece of meat he placed in your bowl and gulped it down. 

“You really have good taste. I need to come here more often.” You said, taking another bite.

Jungwon laughed at your enthusiasm. “Sure, we can come here more often.” 

Your full cheeks slightly reddened as you heard him mention you both. “You’re a really good eater and I’m glad I’m eating pho here with you in a restaurant. It’s not everyday I get to eat a delicious meal with a pretty girl.”

“Shush,” You said, hiding your smile. 

You didn’t realize but there was a small splash of broth near your lips. As you continued talking, you noticed Jungwon’s smile as he laid his head against his palm. 

“What? Why’re you looking at me like that?” You asked.

“Nah, you got something.” Jungwon was swift as he leaned over to wipe off the broth with his thumb and bring it to his lips. He licked it off and went back to eating like it was the most normal thing ever. 

Now you were fully blushing. His actions made your heart strings tug violently. If only he could stop being the biggest gentleman and flirt in the world, your heart would finally have a rest. 

A few moments later, Jungwon finally spoke. “So, what’s your escape?” Jungwon asked, picking up from the question you asked him earlier.  

You paused for a minute, your chopsticks hovering over the bowl. You looked at Jungwon as the warm steam from the pho clouded your face slightly. For once, you thought of answering what was on your mind, instead of practiced words flowing out your mouth.

“I guess, I don’t really have one.” You said as you dunked your chopsticks in the bowl. “I grew up like this. I don’t think I know how to act like anything else other than this. I guess, I thought this was the real me for the longest time, but it's hard—exhausting even.” You sighed, knowing every day was a routine for you to act according to the title that was given to you. “I don’t have a place to be the real me. It seems pathetic, I know.”

“No it's not.” Jungwon’s voice was soft, almost reassuring. “Even though you can’t find the real you doesn’t make it any less real. It’s still there, I know it.” 

“You’re just saying that.” You tried to brush it off.

“Pretty, I’m being honest. I haven't been around you for long, but…well I don't know, but I don't think I’ve seen you laugh that loud. Or be so you. It seems different when you act around your friends and around me.” Jungwon confessed. 

“But…if you want a place, you can always come here. Even if it’s not with me. It’s a place that brought me the most calmness, and it might to you as well."

The thing is, you don’t think it's the place that made you calm. It was the boy in front of you. You denied your feelings for the longest time, but you don’t think you could keep it contained for any second longer. Whenever you were with him, you were always the real you, the real Y/n. 

For the first time in a while, you are finally allowed to admit it. To admit that the warmth in your heart wasn’t the unfamiliarity of Jungwon, but it was something more tender, more deeper.

It was love. It was the warmth that rested in your chest during those late evenings when you both studied together. It was the swell in your heart when he acted like a gentleman.

You were falling—deep and hard for Jungwon. You fell into the charm of his smile, his kindness and how he could see past your walls and into your heart.

In that moment, you realized that this wasn’t admiration or friendship, it was something you couldn’t deny anymore.

You were falling for Yang Jungwon.

You were sure of this, you’ve been wanting to do it for a long time. Well, it’s been a week since you were at the restaurant with Jungwon, only growing closer to the boy from there. Every shared glance, every laugh, every late night text only made your heart flutter even more. 

Nothing changed after the project, he still looked at you with that stupid smile on his face and he still called you pretty—like he meant it. Your heart only grew from all the useless but silly conversations you’d have with the boy. You couldn’t ignore that feeling in your heart anymore, it was too hard for you to turn a blind eye towards. 

Minju saw how you got all cheery around him, she saw how you let your guard down around him. How your smiles were softer, less practiced. You saw how you were growing closer and closer to the boy. It was dangerous how you were letting him in your heart. 

It was reckless even. The kind of recklessness that made you put your guard down and the kind that made you ignore the little voice in your head that told you to take a step back and remember who you were. The ‘you’ that was practiced and perfect. But you didn’t want that, not anymore. 

Not when Yang Jungwon made you feel alive and free. You wanted to live in the moments when Jungwon’s gaze lingered on you for a little longer. You cherished all those times he called you ‘pretty’ even though you acted annoyed whenever he said it. You replayed the moment where you realized you fell for the boy under the dimly lit pho restaurant. 

So you decided, you made up your mind that you weren’t keeping these lingering feelings floating anymore. You had to tell him. To tell him the words that had been breaking out of your heart, to tell him that your heart belonged to him from now on. To show him that it was Jungwon who’d you think about at the end of each day.

That’s how you ended up in front of the basketball court. The court seemed empty as the  sunlight spilled on the shiny floor. You could hear the thump of the basketball on the hard floors echoing throughout the room with the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the floor. 

You watched Jungwon from afar. He looked effortlessly good as always. The strands of his bangs stuck to his forehead as his uniform sleeves were rolled up, showing off his lean forearms. His shirt stuck to his chest, slightly damp with sweat. He seemed immersed in playing it by himself. 

He didn’t notice you—not until you called his name. 

His eyes lightened as he smiled wide. Before catching the ball he bounced it one more time. “Pretty!” He lifted his head, grinning as you headed to him. 

“Why’re you here?” He started dribbling again, slowly. “You play basketball?”

You giggled softly as you shook your head, “No. I haven’t ever.” He smiled, looking at your face before successfully throwing the ball in the hoop.

“I came here to talk actually.” You looked at the floor, not being able to look at the boy.

“Ah, figured.” He chuckled as he dribbled the ball in rhythmic beats. “Shoot.”

This was it. This was your shot.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner sometime.” You let out, struggling through the uneasy feeling that rested in your stomach.

“Sure pretty, we can go to that pho restaurant or what about the new place that serves steak?” He smiled, his eyes warm as a day.

“Jungwon, I meant as a date. A romantic one.” You quickly added before you could regret everything. “I like you.” You swallowed.

What fell after your confession was complete silence. 

“Y/n…” His voice was gentle, not louder than a whisper. He hesitated to find the words, knowing that it would break you.

“I’m sorry,” This was all he could say. It was all Jungwon could do to let you down. The words struck to your heart like a knife as it pierced through.

You bit your lips finally looking at him. You prayed to God that he wouldn’t see the tears that threatened to pour out of your eyes. Jungwon froze, not knowing what to do. 

He came closer, his hand twitched as it tried to reach out to you, but you backed away. You backed away from the pain before it would make you crumble right in front of the boy you liked. 

“Forget it, I should go.” You muttered, turning your heel before that crack in your voice would betray you. 

“Y/n…” Jungwon called out your name, his voice softer now.

You walked out the court, without looking back. The ache in your throat now burned with a sour taste. Your chest heaved as you tried not to let the tears from your eyes fall. Blinking hard, the echoes of the pain that struck your heart in the court kept lingering around your heart; a mockery of your failure.

You didn’t know what you hated the most, how he let you down so slowly or how he still said your name like it meant everything to him. He held your heart in his hands and carelessly let it slip, not knowing how easily you gave it to him—under the dim lights of the pho restaurant, when he seemed to be your boy just for a moment.

It was never supposed to be like this, you weren’t supposed to fall for him in the first place.

You were the lucky girl, lucky at every turn; with your friends, with your grades and with everything that mattered. So why not with him? Why didn’t he fall for your charms like everyone else did? Why did he slip through the cracks of your highly built walls? Why did he see past that perfected smile?

Jungwon, the only one that saw you for who you were now recklessly dangled your heart around him. He never seemed to like you, something you couldn’t understand why. He was your ‘friend’. But somewhere between the endless study sessions, the lines of friendship and love began to blur. You seemed confused on why a friend would listen to every single detail of your silly stories or walk you home, giving you his jacket even if he was cold. 

You wanted to laugh at yourself. How foolishly in love were you. How naive. The kindness he’d lend over to you was soon mistaken for love. The sparkle in his eyes you noticed was just the affection for a friend. Surely it was.

Luck carried you through everything. Through the hardest moments, when you thought you couldn’t get out of a situation it would swoop in and save you. But the last thing you felt right now was lucky. Soon realizing that love didn’t come with luck, it never did. 

But Gosh, did it hurt to learn it this way. 

Minju and Moka knew it from the moment you walked to them out on the field with a dull face. It was never like you to carry yourself with such a monotonous face, that’s basically coming empty handed to someone’s birthday. What made them terrified was how your perfect posture had a slight hunch to it and the perfect pretty girl plopped herself beside them, with a sigh.

You actually sighed. 

Minju gulped, “Is it, like, safe to talk to you?” She slowly asked, not knowing what she might’ve gotten herself into. 

You shot her a glance, unknowingly a mean one which she mentally winced at. You were just tired. Tired from crying yourself to sleep last night and tired from the heartbreak that stupid boy caused. 

“You’re not going to explode right now, yeah?” Moka added, praying to God that she defuses the time bomb in front of her before it nukes the entire class. Moka bit her lip, knowing she had so much to live for and she couldn't let her life be cut short. Dramatic? yes, but also very needed when you sat there with a sulky pout.

“Why are you guys acting like someone died?” You sighed again. Gosh, they were done for.

“Well, did they?” Minju blinked looking at your state.

“Yes, me.” You said shortly before letting your head rest in your hands.

“Mind telling your best friends what happened?” Moka titled her head, trying to get a better look at your covered face. 

You gulped, you would have to tell them some time. You raised your head as you finally looked at them. This is so embarrassing, your face turned red at the thought.

“Jungwon…rejectedme.” You said, fast enough hoping they didn’t hear.

“Wait—what?” Minju spoke up, double checking if she heard that correctly.

“Jungwon, the boy I liked, rejected me! There, I said it. That’s what happened, he rejected me and continued playing fucking basketball like it was no big deal.” You were sure your face was red by now, not by embarrassment but anger. Gosh, if you could see that brown haired boy just to choke him.

“Hold on, you liked him?” Moka said, mindlessly not knowing about the fact that you’ve been crushing hard on the boy for the past few weeks.

Minju nudged Moka’s shoulder at her obliviousness, “You idiot! How didn’t you realize? She was practically foaming whenever he was around.”

“Yeah well it doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that does is shooting balls in fucking hoops, apparently.” You groaned, the memories of the days before flushing straight to your mind.

Gosh, you were never going to live that down. 

Minju saw your sulky face, her face roamed over your eyes. “No way, don’t tell me you actually cried.” She said, a pout forming on her face.

You blinked at her. “No I didn’t.” You said, lying straight out of your teeth.

“You did!” Moka joined in, putting her hand over your shoulder for some form of comfort. “He’s seriously got you wrapped around his finger. I never thought I'd see Y/N be so down  bad.” 

“I don’t care anymore.” You sulked as you buried your face in your palms. 

“Cheer up, you don’t need him anyway.” Minju reassured you, rubbing your arm.  “He’s just a boy, it’s his loss he lost the prettiest girl.”

Prettiest girl. That name struck straight through your heart without any warning. The name you blushed at every time it left his mouth now only stung. It echoed with the familiarity that you hated now.

Jungwon had said it so many times that it was your second name by now, but what you never knew was he meant it every single time. Jungwon always liked being honest. He said what was on his mind. Whenever he called you pretty, he meant it with his heart. You felt it too, his sincerity, how genuine he was when he talked to you. 

And for a while, you believed it. You believed that maybe at least in his eyes, you were pretty. Not in the way that most people see you. Not how passerbys take a double look at you, but you as a whole. He saw a pretty girl when you were the real you. The nickname that he gave you now haunts you—a faint reminder of how he looked at you like you were his, how gentle he was with you, how he let you down slowly. 

Now you were sitting with your friends on the field, wallowing on how he crushed you. Somehow, through these past few days, he never really left your mind. Jungwon always found a place at the back of your mind, lingering around with the pain of your heartbreak as well.

Soon after, Minju and Moka left you on the bleachers by yourself after you asked for some time alone. The sun peaked behind the clouds as the breeze ran through your hair.

The field was quiet except for some distant chatter of boys wrapping up on football practice. You sat there, your mind still dazed as your chin rested on your palm. You weren’t one to ever sulk, especially over some stupid boy, yet here you were blankly looking at the grass in front of you without a thought in your head. 

Right then, you heard soft thumps against the grass. As you lifted your head up to see who was walking towards you, your heart skipped a beat. It was Jungwon, in all his glory heading to you like he didn’t just break your heart days ago.

“What’s with the pouty face?” He asked, taking a seat next to you with that soft smile of his.

You huffed, looking away. “Don’t act like you don’t know.” Your voice was low and a little too sharp.

His mouth twitched upwards, holding back a laugh as he raised his eyebrow. “Still hung up on that, I see.” He chuckles softly, looking ahead at the sun.

“Well, it’d be surprising if I didn’t.” You sighed, considering the fact that it literally just happened a few days ago. “I realized I can’t move on fast.”

“That happens. Everyone has their own pace. It’s human nature.” Jungwon comforted you without even knowing it, when he was the reason you put on a pout the whole day.

“Gosh,” You groaned out of annoyance. “Why do you have to be so nice all the time?” Looking at Jungwon at your left, he greeted you with a laugh at your huffy presence.

“You know, it’d help if you were a jerk so I could move on. Then I'd have something to hate about you.” 

Jungwon pouted, pressing his hands to his chest above his heart. “You wound me, pretty.” He chuckles, not knowing how many butterflies were reborn in your stomach once again at the sound of the nickname. “I can’t be rude to anyone who matters to me.”

The lump that used to rest in your throat was brought back again. Gosh, if he could only stop making you fall deeper for him. Jungwon, having a way with his words did not help one bit. You went quiet, there was prolonged silence between the two of you as you glanced at him long enough for him to do the same. 

You broke the silence with a whisper, “Then why say no?”

Jungwon only sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair, knowing the question would come sooner or later. Letting out a slow breath, he collected the right words to say to you—he only hoped that it would reach you as some form of comfort.

“Y/N, I’ve always liked you…since the day you rejected me without even me confessing.” He softly chuckled at the memory. “You were so interesting, such a pretty personality. I could feel your passion about everything you liked, but you hid it. You keep away from being true to yourself. What you show to people isn’t the real you. That made me sad, I kept thinking ‘how come such a pretty girl like you have to hide her personality when it’s so beautiful?’” Jungwon saw right through you, he read you like a book when others didn’t bother to look past your cover.

“It must be exhausting,” He continued with sincerity. “Always meeting other people’s expectations of you. You must’ve lost yourself through it, it feels too much sometimes…right?” You only slowly nodded at his words.

You felt seen now. You felt as if he had truly looked beyond the practiced smiles to the real girl who was underneath the rehearsals of being perfect. 

“I guess, I’ve been doing it for so long I didn’t realize it myself.”

“Figured. You didn’t have anyone to notice it. I…wanted to see you for who you are. Not the girl that other people expect to see.” Your heart thudded like a drum, you swear you just fell for him again.

“You rejected me…because of this?” You asked, tilting your head in which he chuckled at the question.

His silence answered your question as you put your head in your hands again, “Gosh, I’m so pathetic. I thought you hated me. I got too ahead of myself.”

He propped his hands against the bleachers as he leaned back. “I like you like this.”

“You’re all sulky, frustrated. It’s not pathetic. It’s human. It’s the real Y/N that I like. The one that makes stupid jokes which I still laugh at.” He joked, trying to see you slip a smile for once.

You shot a glare at him playfully as you shoved his arm. “You don’t get my humour.”

“No one does. You’re unique. Own it.” He quickly added, smiling. “It's the you that I liked all along.”

You felt your lips part, your cheeks warm as that same uneasy feeling rested in your stomach. The smile on his face lingered on your mind for a bit too long. 

“Cheer up, pretty.” Jungwon said, standing up and turning towards you. He reached out to ruffle your hair before he bid you goodbye. With that he left the field, leaving you alone on the bleachers. 

You stayed seated for a moment longer, the conversation replayed in your head. The fresh air against your skin left a reminder of the real you, the one you had to discover hiding down the practiced laughs. You let your shoulders loosen, closing your eyes. You could only hear the birds chirping and the distant buzz of the school pupils. For once, your heart felt at peace. The calm you didn’t know that you had been searching for. 

You sit with yourself at that thought. The thought of what it would feel like to be the real you in front of everyone; your friends, your peers, Jungwon. You felt something shift, it was small–you could almost miss it–yet it was meaningful. 

Maybe, it was okay to be stubborn, frustrated, messy. Maybe that was who you wanted to be from now on. 

You didn’t even realize the days that passed after you talked with Jungwon on the field. Not knowing if it was Jungwon’s words replaying in your head or how your heart slowly brought its pieces back together, but you slowly started to change. Change into the person who you longed to be. Something snapped in you to break free from the rigidness that had been holding you back.

At first, it was small. You could almost miss it, but it meant something. You didn’t have that faint smile at all times. You allowed yourself to be frustrated, happy, surprised; every emotion in the book without caring about what other people would think.

You didn’t force your laughter nor did you wait for approval from your peers. No, you didn’t care about that anymore. The world didn’t end when you people didn’t smile back at you or when you didn’t get the last banana milk in the canteen. 

You kept to yourself sometimes, not wanting to be the centre of attention all the time. Somehow, it felt lighter—almost as if the load on your back had been taken off you. Not filling the silence all the time felt almost freeing, not worried at night before you go to bed on what people might’ve thought of you today and what you could do to become better for tomorrow. 

Jungwon noticed, of course he did. He was the first person to. His eyes always lingered around you whenever you weren’t paying attention. His eyes were soft, filled with something more than love just for a friend. 

He found himself impressed when you sat next to him as always in your English Literature class, with just a smile and nothing more. Small conversations were made about the weather or the notes about the class—but it wasn’t anything practiced, nothing rehearsed. The stray strand of hair that you always tucked behind your ear was now left alone. It didn’t bother you when it fell on your cheek, it wasn’t like how it was used to—you didn’t have to spend an hour everyday correcting each of your imperfections in the mirror. 

Jungwon only smiled at your changed attitude. And somehow, the anxiousness that rested in your stomach didn’t exist anymore. Your nervousness when you were around him was now replaced with comfort. The softness that was barely there before now began to grow as Jungwon and you pulled to each other closer than before, without even noticing.

It wasn’t just in class. It was everywhere. The change inside you followed you to the cafe you regularly visit or through the school hallways. Just as you were now, walking through the halls with your hands shoved in the pockets of your hoodie. Jungwon had waved at you to come over. Before you could reach him, your foot slipped on an uneven tile causing you to fall towards the ground with a quiet thud. 

Normally, you would’ve panicked, quickly standing up worried if your peers saw your embarrassing moment. You would’ve checked multiple times for wounds that would leave a scar and if you did, you’d worry endless nights about the scar that’s left on your skin, searching for medication days on end to get rid of it.

But you, you were just sitting on the ground, a scraped knee and nothing in your mind other than if you were okay. Jungwon quickly ran to your side, yelling your name.

“Are you okay?” He asked, crouching down to see if you had any wounds on you.

He checked your knee, his hand coming in contact with your leg as he leaned in to get a better look with a worried face. But all you could do was laugh. You laughed right in Jungwon's face about your clumsiness. 

Jungwon looked up at you with confusion, “Gosh, I’m so clumsy.” You let out an airy laugh as you looked at your wound.

The boy stared at you with disbelief. You were hurt yet you were laughing. He blinked before letting out a small chuckle with you. “You know, when I asked you to be the real you, I didn’t mean clumsy.”

“What if the real me is clumsy?” You asked with a giggle, not caring about the wound anymore.

His fingers brushed around the wound over your knee, knowing you needed a bandage. But then he looked at you with a smile, “Then I’d have to support it. I’ll take care of you every time you fall.”

Shoot, you were blushing. Really hard. 

You gulped, trying to dismiss what he said. Though you couldn’t get his boyish smile out of your head. How he touched you with utmost care, like you’d break anytime. His gentleness still plucked your heartstrings, your face slightly flushed. 

He stood up, lending you his hand for you to get up as well. Jungwon tugged you up with ease. You were back on your feet again, the pain has now subsided and was replaced by the warmth that Jungwon left behind. You swore your heart skipped a beat when his hand lingered for too long against yours before he let go. 

He brought you to an empty classroom and made you sit on one of the chairs. Jungwon crouched down and rummaged through his bag for a bandage. He glanced at you for a moment after ripping open the bandage. You slightly winced at the pressure when he pressed it on your knee.

“You’re okay?” He asked, slight concern lacing his voice.

You only nodded with a smile. You were okay really, now all better from the boy who was in front of you, patching you up.

“You should watch where you’re going next time, pretty. I don’t want you to fall again.” He chuckled as you stood up from the chair. “You can walk right?”

“Yes, Wonie. I didn’t break my ankle. It’s just a scratch.” You giggled, not even realizing that nickname found your lips again.

He broke eye contact, looking away with a laugh. Was he…blushing? The faint flush on his cheeks gave it away. You could die in peace now. You finally made the boy who always made you nervous blush. You always wondered how Jungwon would look like this, a blushing mess. Now you finally got to see it in an empty classroom, and it was a sight to see.

“Yeah, well I was just checking if I had to give you a piggyback ride to your house.” He added, his usual softness mixed with playfulness laced in voice.

You giggled, shaking your head. “You think I’m that helpless?”

Jungwon shrugged, “You never know. You’re clumsy enough to need it” 

You scoffed as you shoved Jungwon’s arm at his joke, though the smile stayed on your face. Jungwon just smiled, happy to see you smile again. Even if it was his teasing or his stupid jokes, he still brought out the you he wanted to see for the longest and that was all that mattered.

The sting in your knee had disappeared. You realized it wasn’t that bad to have someone be on your side always, through your frustrated pouts, embarrassing moments or when you got hurt.

It wasn’t so bad when there was someone like him being there to help you whenever you needed it. His actions more than his words made you feel that warm sensation tingling around your stomach, you felt something that you were yet to discover. 

And for the first time in a long time, you finally knew what it meant to be true to yourself.

You decided that today was the day your luck had finally been against you. The rain poured in front of you, making you stranded inside the school entrance. You sighed, hoping the rain would magically stop until you walked towards your house. The sleeves on your hoodie were slightly damp from the raindrops that had somehow got behind the roof that was protecting you from the rain ahead of you. 

You crossed your arms, bringing them close to your chest—too stubborn to walk home in the rain. But the cold made you move a step forward, your body knew your dignity could wait. 

Then an umbrella appeared over your head. 

With the sudden dullness over your head, you looked to your side to see Jungwon hovering one above you. The stands of his hair stuck to his forward as his uniform sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, his tie hung loose.

“Genuinely, what would you do without me?” Jungwon dramatically said with a smile. 

You giggled, “Jungwon, I thought you left.” You said, coming closer to him.

“Nah, I had some work left so I stayed at the library. Didn’t realize it was raining. Thank God I stole this umbrella from Riki.” 

The soft sounds of your laugh escaped your lips, you swore you could see Jungwon’s eyes light up. He props the umbrella more towards you, making you come closer.

“Thanks for stealing his umbrella. You didn’t have to, but whatever makes me walk home not soaked.” You say, pulling your hoodie sleeves further down your hands to keep you warm.

“Would I do anything less?” His voice seemed too casual for the way he showed he cared about you more than anyone else. 

Before you could process anything he said, he added. “Cmon, let me walk you home. Can’t let a pretty girl go alone in the rain.”

You blushed at his comment and came closer to him so you both could equally share the rain. You both stepped through the pouring streets and across the street, his arm brushing over you a few times just enough to make your heart race.

The rain around you filled the silence in between you both. It wasn’t awkward, it was almost comforting. All you could focus was on the drops falling on the ground and how dangerously close Jungwon was to you.

“You hungry?” Jungwon asked, his voice cutting through the rain.

By now the rain had calmed down, not pouring anymore. You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes as you nodded. Without a second thought, he steered his way to the nearby tteokbokki stand. The old lady behind the stand smiled warmly at you two as Jungwon took out his wallet to pay for one portion of tteokbokki as he couldn’t eat with his hands busy holding an umbrella. 

“I’m not hungry anyways,” He says before giving the cup to you, happy at the fact that he’ll be sending you home with a full stomach.

You blew onto a piece before taking a bite. Your eyes widened at the flavours melting into your tongue which spread the warmth in your chest, but it was nothing compared to the way Jungwon looked at you with his doe eyes and comforting smile.

“You should eat too…” You said, blowing onto another piece before holding it out to him. He was taken aback for a moment, but slowly leaned in, taking a piece from your skewer.

You giggled at his lips which were covered in the sauce from the rice cakes. “You got something,” Now it was your turn to do the same to him. You held your hand out and wiped his lips before licking it away from your thumb. Now you got to see how hardly he was blushing, looking everywhere but you. Cute, you thought. 

The world around you both seemed to shrink. Nothing really mattered as long as he was next to you, sharing the warmth under his tiny umbrella. The rain had seemed to stop completely, the smell of the fresh water comforted you as the sun hid behind the clouds. It was beginning to set as you both walked through the streets side by side. You knew you had to savour every moment you had with him. 

Before you knew it, you were already at your house, standing in front of your door and Jungwon entered through your gate, shaking his umbrella a bit to dry it. He ruffled his hair, the wet stands now free, hanging over his forehead. 

“Thank you…for not letting me go home soaked.” You said, looking at him with just a smile. 

“I’d do it for the girl I like.” His lips slipped out the words before he could stop himself. 

Your heart skipped a beat as Jungwon realized what he said. You blinked, checking if you heard that correct or were you imagining it all along. But the blush on Jungwon’s cheeks said otherwise. 

You stepped closer to him, but you didn’t dare say a word. He chuckles, knowing he’d have to do this anyway. Jungwon bit his lip, knowing he was confessing to the girl he adored, this wasn’t a dream. The boy who you rejected on the first day of meeting him is finally confessing to you. 

“Pretty, I like you. I think I can say it properly now. I think that day in the field made me fall harder, you really changed. You are yourself and I can’t even begin to explain how happy I am to see the pretty girl being her true self, I can’t believe I’m standing in front of you, confessing. Just… don’t reject me this time, yeah?” Jungwon chuckled, leaning in.

His hand reached out to cup your face, soft against your cold skin. You could only giggle at his words and shake your head, you wouldn’t dare to reject the sweet boy in front of you. For the first time, from the countless confessions you’ve received, you’re finally accepting one. One that you don’t regret one bit. 

“I couldn’t imagine saying no.” You whispered, your voice like silk which made Jungwon lose his mind. 

He smiled, his thoughts portrayed through his eyes. “Pretty, pretty girl…” His face was inches away from you, you could feel his breath on yours. “My pretty girl.”

That’s all he said before his lips met yours in a sweet kiss under the dim glow of the streetlight that entered your little porch. Time seemed to slow, the only thing that existed now was the warmth of his lips.

Jungwon’s hand snaked around your waist as you tugged on his tie, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, Jungwon wanted you to know how much he needed you, how much he wanted you. And for the first time, everything left unsaid was poured into the kiss; quick glances, soft touches and quiet giggles melted into the kiss you both shared.

When he finally pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath, you still stayed still, not taking your hands away from his chest. Jungwon rested his forehead against yours. 

“You’re a good kisser.” He chuckled, giving another quick yet firm peck against your lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Wonie.” Smiling at his face, your eyes made him weak in the knees.

He finally stepped back, he gave you the space you needed. But you wished he stayed in your arms for a moment longer, or maybe for however long forever was. 

“My mom’s probably waiting for me inside.” You putted, knowing he had to leave.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s best I leave.” He looked up at the night sky, knowing it was late. “It’s getting dark out.”

You titled your head, your eyes speaking for you. Jungwon could only try and calm his heart down when you looked at him like that. 

“Cmon pretty, how am I supposed to leave if you look at me that way?” Jungwon leaned in again to give you a kiss again. This time it was longer than his peck, but still had the same impact making you giggle.

“You should still go, it’s late.” You said, pushing him away from your lips. 

Truth is, now that he got a taste, he can’t let go. You were his weakness, your lips his addiction. Everything about you made him go crazy. The feelings that he kept inside his heart was finally out to the girl who had been real with him all this time. The only girl he saw past that façade. The girl he fell hard for. 

He said a small goodnight before stepping back. He gave you a small smile and turned around to leave. Jungwon paused mid way, turning around faster than he could think and came jogging back to your doorstep to steal another kiss from you, he couldn’t get enough.

“Last one,” He said, holding your waist as he gave two urgent pecks as you giggled. Jungwon laughed with you, knowing he was a goner.

“Jungwon!” You whined, your hands pressed against his chest as he leaned back. He groaned slightly, getting off your doorstep and back into the front yard. 

“Goodnight, for real this time, pretty.” He whispered with a smile.

“Goodnight Wonie.” You breathed, your heart still racing, mind still floating. 

You stood right on the doorstep where Jungwon had kissed you senseless long after Jungwon disappeared into the street. You could still feel the faint memory of his lips on yours.

Thinking about the way he looked at you, the way he kissed you and held you close. You knew without a doubt that your heart would never be the same. Your heart would flutter every time you thought about him, bringing you back to the night where you kissed the boy you cherished the most.

Dating Jungwon was nothing like you had expected. He only grew more playful and childish. The young boy started opening himself up to you, only pulling you closer to his heart. You could be yourself with him, you didn’t have to rehearse anything; always saying what was on your mind.

You were yourself, the one he wanted to be with. He wanted to be with the girl that didn’t pretend anymore. He loved that about you more than anyone. He loved your laugh, how you didn’t hold back anymore. He loved how you didn’t bother having a perfect mask on all the time, he noticed it all. 

As days passed, the small kisses you shared with him, the silly moments you had were the ones you treasured the most. It wasn’t anything grand, you could almost miss it, but that’s what made you fall harder and harder for him. 

Everyone noticed. You seemed happier, more real—not an unreachable doll that everyone could only admire. They whispered about the subtle glow on your face, the smile that you hid from the world. How Jungwon held your hand firm, never letting it go—you both were now practically joined at the hip. 

Of course, Minju and Moka were the first to know. You practically ran to your bedroom to call them and stay up at night to talk about every little detail. How the sun was barely peaking through the clouds, how Jungwon called you ‘his pretty girl’, how he kissed you. 

Jake and Riki teased Jungwon on how he smiled like a dork every time you walked by, giving him a blowing kiss. They were merciless with Jungwon, calling him ‘loverboy’ and ‘down bad’ every five minutes. You knew they were exaggerating, but for a minute you could almost believe them with the way he looked at you.

You loved how he looked at you, how he kissed you. Everything about him. Most of all, you loved walks with him. The ones with quiet and silly jokes whispered under the sunny sky. One of them, you and Jungwon shared a laugh with some stupid anecdote you told him before. 

Jungwon held your hand as he swung them back and forth slightly, “You’re such a slow walker.” 

“Slow?...Well excuse me, but I wanted to spend some more time with my boyfriend.” You playfully pouted as you glanced at him. “Don’t you wanna?”

He squeezed your hand, “‘Course I do, pretty. I thought you would be giving that excuse of being clumsy again for your slow walking.”

“Well, that too.” You giggled as you leaned into his warmth.

“But you’re one to talk. You almost fell, looking at me that day near the tteokbokki stand.” You joked, remembering his clumsy trip that day he kissed you.

“Alright, that was a minor slip! You said you didn’t even see it.” He whined, his voice made your heart flutter, admiring the adorable boy in front of you. “Plus, I was just trying to see if my pretty girl wasn’t burning her tongue.”

“Gosh, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love.” He added, his smooth talk making your knees weak. 

You shoved him playfully, “Jungwon! How do you even come up with this?” You giggled, trying to not meet his gaze, so he wouldn’t see your flushed face.

“Guess you just make me cheesy.” He smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, getting a better look at your face.

Your cheeks burned at his touch as he leaned in to peck your cheek. “You’re insufferable.”

“Still here though,” He said, gripping your hand again to continue walking down the street again.

“Sometimes, I wonder how I even managed to make you fall for me.” You smiled at the memories you both created ever since that day in your English Literature class. “Guess I got lucky after all.”

His gaze was soft and steady, his eyes carrying everything as he looked at you for a moment. “No, this time you weren’t lucky.” He mumbled, his voice certain. “This time, it was just you.” 

For once, you didn’t have a smart comeback up your sleeve, nothing to throw back at him. You only smiled, admiring how much love he had for you. Instead you just let the silence speak as you lightly squeezed his hand. His shoulder brushed against yours as you both conversed with anything that was on your mind, walking along the dimly lit street. 

You couldn’t help but smile as his hand held you tighter, almost afraid that you would let go. But you wouldn’t dare. Not when your heart already belonged to you. Maybe you used to believe that your life was set in luck, it was already prepared. But with Jungwon, it was different. It wasn’t by anything that you expected nor was it luck, it was his choice, it was yours. To choose each other every time. 

lucky girl syndrome tags . @ikeulove @hollxe1 @llearlert @blooqz @maewphoria @ysenik

⠀ join the taglist 💌 @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @voikiraz @miumura @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @aishigrey @firstclassjaylee @rikislove @hynjinnnnnnnn @flwrstqr @manarieee

“lastly, y/n and riki.” your history teacher’s eyes glanced over to you and the boy who sat a few rows behind before looking back at the big stack of papers sitting on his desk.

your jaw dropped.

there was no way you were working with him—the boy you’d set on fire if given the chance. absolutely not. you slowly turned your head around, dreading the sight behind you.

and there he was, with the same irritated expression as you. the attitude was through the roof. whatever. the sooner this was over, the better.

over the past few weeks, you both barely made it work. with snarky comments being passed every minute and riki throwing paper balls at you just to annoy the life out of you, you ended up doing the majority of the work.

every meeting ended with you storming out after having enough of the boy’s comments—or him leaving you stranded after calling you every insult in the book.

you swore your head was about to explode at the sight of him.

but one day, something shifted. you were tireder than usual, your eyes heavy and your head in a daze.

you weren’t bickering—well, not really. it was quieter, which made riki lift his head, wondering why you hadn’t snapped back at his usual remarks.

your fingers hesitated with every word you typed, a lump forming in your throat. everything was already going wrong, and somehow riki made it worse.

“so, we should lead with the causes of the depression—” your voice was shaky.

“that’s boring. i’d fall asleep if i listened to that.”

“well, do you have something better in mind?” you asked, trying to keep your composure.

“no… i don’t know. just anything but that.” riki didn’t really have a problem with it. he just wanted to provoke you. he wanted a reaction.

“riki, this is due in two days.” you sighed, fingers running through your hair.

“so that means i don’t get a say in this?” he said, leaning forward.

“not when you’re slowing us down.”

he clicked his tongue. “see, this is what i hate about you. that fucking attitude. you think you’re better than everyone else so you put them down and act like they don’t matter.”

something inside you twisted. “what? i don’t think that—”

“yeah? then why act like everyone else is beneath you? you never even listen. you don’t care. you think you’re right—you think you’re perfect. but you’re not. i could see your flaws from a mile away.” he scoffed.

you looked down now, not having anything to say. you couldn’t look him in the eye. not anymore.

riki didn’t like that. riki hated that. he hated how you didn’t have a comeback up your sleeve. he hated the silence gnawing at him.

“i don’t… want us to fail.” your voice broke.

fuck.

“i try to do what’s best,” you said, not letting the tears fall. not in front of him. “i’m sorry.”

you sniffed.

and that’s when riki knew he fucked up.

he watched you pack your bag in a rush and leave the library before he saw you break into a sob.

riki shifted slightly in his seat, the alarms in his head ringing when he saw you walk away. before he knew it, he was chasing you down the empty hallway.

“fuck, wait,” he said, catching up.

riki grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking further.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asked, voice soft, as you slowly turned towards him, your head still facing the ground.

“i tried to be nice, riki.” you let out a sob. “you make it so hard.”

“i work so hard and you act like it’s a joke. i’m not a joke.”

he didn’t say anything for a minute. he just stood there, watching as you let out silent sobs, trying not to fully break down in front of him.

and in that moment, he really saw you. not the girl who fought over maths results or stole the last milk carton—the real you. it wasn’t his enemy standing in front of him. it was a girl he saw clearer than anyone else.

a person he noticed.

a person he made cry.

“i know you do,” he finally said. “i know.” and with that, he pulled you gently by the hand and embraced you.

riki was hugging you—your sworn enemy since freshman year. his tall frame engulfed you as he rubbed your back, trying to soothe you.

that was all it took for you to break. you started sobbing, his shirt now wet with your tears as he held you tighter, muffled cries spilling out into his chest.

he couldn’t believe he made you cry. and the worst part? he hated himself for it. and he didn’t know why.

riki always imagined hurting you. he always thought seeing you cry would give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d won. so now that you were right in front of him, hurling your eyes out—giving him exactly what he wanted—why did he feel like the biggest jerk alive?

he wanted to kiss all those tears away. he’d die to see that smile he once claimed to hate appear on your face again.

neither of you pulled away. both of you leaned into each other’s warmth—a silent, lingering embrace that neither of you knew you needed until it happened.

sure, nishimura riki hated you. he hated that smile on your face and those eyes that glowed in the sunlight. but he was the only one who noticed. he noticed how your face lit up when things worked out in your favour and how your eyes gleamed when you beat him. he was the only one who noticed everything about you.

and that didn’t feel like hate.

not anymore. not with you in his arms, your face pressed against his chest.

it was something far scarier than he had imagined.

something that made his blood run cold and his heart beat twice as fast.

nishimura riki was falling for you.

⠀ join the taglist 💌 @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @voikiraz @miumura @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @aishigrey @firstclassjaylee @rikislove @hynjinnnnnnnn @flwrstqr @manariee

you didn't bother taking off your sunglasses much so look at him. instead you sat there, letting out a quiet hum at the sound of your nickname.

"knew i'd find you here." jay smiled, looking at you with admiration.

"will you ever quit, jongseong?" you sighed, finally looking at him as your voice was stern.

"when you accept me." he quickly added, another flirty comment out his mouth.

you took off your sunglasses, intentionally showing that you were rolling your eyes at the boy's words. you sat front looking up at him. though you were supposed to ignore him, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked under the evening light.

you stood up, you were face to face with him. his grin only deepened knowing he was getting the attention he needed. what a lovesick fool he was.

"I'm surprised you haven't given up. you've been courting me for months, you know that right?" you made sure he was listening as you titled your head, but he just looked like he was struck by one of cupid's arrows.

"mhm, I don't regret a day of it." jay was always smooth with his words, that you knew. but you never expected your heart to flutter at them.

"gosh, you're impossible." you muttered, your cheeks warm.

"determined." he corrected you as he came closer. your heart was now beating twice the speed.

gosh has he always been this charming. you didn't even realise how dashing he looked just like this. his locks fell right above his eyes as his lips formed into that smirk that he always had.

"doll, please." his voice softened, you could feel the sincerity laced in it. "just let me prove it to you. one date, one chance."

now, you knew the right thing to do was to laugh at his face and walk away. so, why were you staying still. your feet didn't move an inch, in fact you almost came closer to the boy in front of you.

your breath hitched, your cheeks were flushed now. oh gosh, you couldn't falter now. but the facade that you wore all this time was slipping away slowly as he snaked his arms around your was it while you said nothing.

it was quiet, it was tender. it was like he actually meant everything he did for these past few months. you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him in closer.

he searched your eyes for permission and when he didn't see you pull away, he knew there was only one thing to do. so he did the right thing; he kissed you.

he kissed you like the world would end tomorrow. his lips melted into you. he was greedy with the way he kissed. he wanted to savour every single second of it, not letting any of it get away. his lips moulded perfectly with yours like it was made for you, like he was made for you.

pulling away was hard but you did so anyways, out of breath. you looked at him with nothing but a smile and a twinkle in your eyes.

"one chance?" he whispered with hopeful eyes.

after a long yet warm silence, you spoke up. "one chance."

⠀ join the taglist 💌 @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @voikiraz @miumura @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @aishigrey @firstclassjaylee @rikislove @hynjinnnnnnnn @flwrstqr @manariee

you had asked him with a smile, reaching out and taking his hand in yours, “what do you want to do for your twentieth birthday?”

he’d pondered your question for a few moments, returning his gaze to the wide expanse of seoul before you. letting you rub your thumb against his skin, he’d traced the dark outline of distant hills against the night sky with his free hand. “i don’t know,” he’d finally said. “maybe we should skip the gala our club is organizing and dip. go someplace where we can see the stars. that sounds like a memorable birthday escapade.”

the night breeze swirled around you, cold air lifting the ends of your hair. sanghyeok wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “look at you finally using your brain for once,” you’d teased, and yet sanghyeok could hear the excitement in your voice. he’d smiled, tilting his head to rest on yours.

“you like the idea though, don’t you?”

“of course i do. i’ve always wanted to go stargazing,” you sighed, “i’ve only ever seen the stars from my window.” 

after a moment, you poked his cheek. he’d turned, only to see a mischievous smile pulling at your lips. “you don’t miss getting to dance? to waltz?”

“y/n, i don’t know how to waltz,” he’d said, “so how could i?”

sanghyeok remembered everything about you.

he remembered the way you said his name, he remembered the sparkle in your eyes. he remembered the way you’d stood up from his embrace that night, and now he felt as if he should have held onto you for just a little bit longer. 

even now he remembered you so clearly, as if you were standing in front of him. your hair, your touch, your gentle grasp on his arm as you pulled him up to stand next to you. “i’ll teach you,” you had whispered, and it was almost as if he could hear your delicate voice right next to his ear. you’d taken his wrist, placing his hand on your waist, and he could feel the soft, slightly scratchy fabric of your cardigan under his fingers. you’d smiled up at him, and he’d smiled back.

he blinked, and your smile was gone.

he looked around at the dark room he was in. the blinds were half-drawn, letting moonlight spill onto the empty burners and cabinet doors. a record player sat at the center of the table he was sitting at, an empty glass cup in front of him refracting diamonds onto the darkened walls.

now he remembered. 

he wasn’t perched at the edge of a university rooftop, gazing over the glowing capital city of korea with his best friend’s hand in his. he was here, sitting at the head of a table in a moonlit kitchen, alone.

yet when he blinked once more, he could see you standing there in front of him.

“i’ll take one step forward,” you had said, having taken his other hand in yours. gently, you’d pushed his shoulder until he stepped back, moving with him. “good. now take a step to the side. then we’ll repeat, but doing the opposite.”

he’d obliged, stepping to the side and forward in a rhythm that started to feel natural. you had smiled in his arms. “and then we start all over again. just follow my lead, okay?” 

standing up from the table, sanghyeok reached over and turned a dial on the record player. after a moment, soft notes of music floated through the room, and he turned around. you smiled at him, reaching out your hand for him to take.

oh, how he loved your smile.

alas, when fate tore you away from his grasp, all he was left with were his memories.

i stay up all night, tell myself i’m alright, baby, you're just harder to see than most.

he stepped towards your silhouette, outlined in silver by the filtered moonlight. those memories now swirled through his mind: of your laugh, of your hugs, of waking up and reaching out for your hand - only to realize that even though you were supposed to be, you weren't there.

but you were standing in front of him now, a smile on your face as he took your hand, soft moonlight glowing in a halo around your head. he rested his hand on your waist, smiling back at you as he felt the scratchy fabric of your cardigan against his skin.

i put the record on, wait ‘til i hear our song, every night i’m dancing with your ghost.

memories felt like reality, so at that moment, sanghyeok let the rest of the world fall away; let himself float around the kitchen, slices of cake forgotten as the moonlight guided him across the wooden floor, with you twirling in his arms.

every night i’m dancing with your ghost.

lee sanghyeok was twenty years old that night.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

PARK JONGSEONG

“We’re so glad you’ve come, Jay!” Your mother sighed, holding onto her clutch and shawl. Jay nodded and smiled, adjusting his suit tie nervously under the glare of your father leaning on the couch. “It’s my pleasure to come to your family dinner..” he said with a soft nervous chuckle. he didn’t even know how he got here. one minute, his annoying girl next door came knocking on his door, asking him to be her date for a family dinner. and the next minute, he was in the middle of you living room in a suit and tie, while everyone was waiting for you to come downstairs.

“Kay—I’m coming down!” you cooed, walking out of your room. your parents sighed in relief, as they started to leave the living room, following your annoyed little brother playing on his ipad. but Jay just.. couldn’t take his eyes off of you, in just a simple lilac maxi dress as you struggled in those heels, waddling over to him. he didn’t know his whiny neighbor could be this.. charming. “Like my dress?” you hummed, flowing the skirt lightly and wrapping your other hand around his arm.

he looked down at your figure, before gulping and shrugging, elevating his eyes to yours again. “I don’t like purple.” he mutters, his shaky voice and wandering eyes betraying his snarky words, making you raise an eyebrow. yet you had no room to argue, because of Jay’s tug to leave the house. “Oh-!”

SIM JAEYUN

“Look here!” “Jake!” “Pose for us!” the paparazzi exclaimed while flashing lights, snapping photos at every second. Jake looked down, following his guards and snapping a few poses at times. who even was this jake guy? you wondered. you were just a bit annoyed at how on your first day of this job, you were already being shoved against sweaty bodies of photographers trying to snap a photo of him.

when you finally escaped the giant crowd, you propped up your camera, finally able to catch a sight of this alleged mega—celebrity. but just as you were about to snap a photo, you finally understood all of the mass paparazzi following him.. he was just gorgeous. wearing a black long sleeve, hair styled away from his face, almost as if he was a disney prince. and like it was a string of fate connecting himself to the clueless photographer, his eyes caught yours — and life seemed to be going in slow motion for a second.

his eyes froze, smile dropping for a second as he blinked. amidst all the flashes and fans, he could only focus on the paparazza a few feet away from him, who seemed awestruck in her own spot. the way your scarf was about to fall, the wind from the open airport doors blowing your hair away, how your eyes seemed to look so lost in his. he felt like he was being pulled in.. “Jake—shi!” his bodyguard spoke, as he was pushed by the large crowds, losing his eye contact with the pretty photographer. you gasped at the interaction, feeling your heart race at the 2 seconds of contact.. who was this guy?

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon knew what he was doing when he came to this party. he knew he couldn’t survive here sober, he was always the life of the party — dancing, drinking, yelling, turning a college party to something more than just a rave, more of a moment, the moment. meanwhile, you were still navigating the social life of this college as a fresh transfer student. you followed your friend closely, trying not to get lost in the club—like area..

“Sunghoon, get off!” his friend yelled with a grin, as hoon laughed loudly, drunk off the radar as he lazily climbed down the table. but the mention of the name sent your heart into shock, as you froze in your spot. you looked at where the familiar name was yelled, where you heard the same laugh. and sure enough, park sunghoon was there. your ex from freshman year of high school, your first boyfriend. “Y/n, follow me!” your friend called out, and like your name was the only thing he heard as well, his head shot towards the call.

suddenly the blinding lights didn’t matter, the blasting music went silent. he didn’t expect his ex, from his first painful, young, messy, misunderstood break up years ago, to be here, out of all places. the second—long eye contact made shared all the adolescent memories, as his eyes leered over how much more.. grown.. you had become. but you were dragged away by your friend, making his eyes chase you again. and this time, he didn’t hesitate to run after you.

KIM SUNOO

the sun was beaming on the streets of the parisians. but your sun was beaming right in front of you, grinning as he chowed down the ice cream you treated him. you chuckled at how cute he looked, keeping your hands interlocked on the cafe table, while tasting your own ice cream cone. you found yourself playing with the shiny rings on your and his ring fingers, the new accessory adorning your relationship since last month.

you didn’t expect to elope. you always wanted a fancy, big wedding. and a part of you had doubts but right now? with your now husband — struggling to keep his ice cream from melting and dripping, yet still trying to keep your hands interlocked, in the sunny streets of Paris on your honeymoon — it all seemed just right with him. a chuckle escaped your lips at how cute he looked, pushing your ice cream away and pulled him closer by his shirt collar.

“You clumsy..” the words lazily left your mouth. “Mph-” Sunoo’s voice muffled against your lip.. as your own reached to the sides of his chin where mint chocolate was dripping. you giggled at how fast he heated up, his ears immediately turning red. it was safe to say right now was the moment you both found yourself falling in love all over again — but for you, it was appreciating your sun—kissed husband in your Paris honeymoon, and for him it was in a cheeky little kiss.

YANG JUNGWON

going to prom with jungwon wasn’t on your bingo card. but after your boyfriend of a year had broken up with you the night before, leaving you crying in your prom dress like the cliches, jungwon stepped up immediately. “Don’t cry over a scum like that..” he whispered as you sobbed into his neck on the night of the break up, while you were huddled up next to him on your bed. jungwon didn’t think a guy like your ex deserved you at all. no one did.

they never treated you right, you always ended up in his arms at the end of the day, sobbing about how no one was right for you. he struggled everytime to not pull you closer, kiss you senseless and lift you off your feet, showing you that the right guy was just in front of you. so even if he was ‘friend’ date for prom, he was going to make this night your best.

jungwon leaned against the stairs handle, still waiting for you to finally get down. but when he heard the footsteps down the stairs, his head shot up. and the sight did not disappoint him at all.. as you walked down the stairs in a light pink, mermaid dress. you smiled down at him, standing in front of him. his heart started to race again, not only seeing his best friend from freshman year, but his crush — his grown, beautiful, mature crush.

“Like my dress?” you cooed softly, as you did a little spin, turning around and showing your dress. while Jungwon stood — lips slightly parted, eyes blank as he gazed over your figure. he shook his head, blinking as he got back to his senses. he gently wrapped his arm around your waist, other hand still holding your purse, while nuzzling into your neck to hide his raging blush. “M-mhm..”

NISHIMURA RIKI

he was a punk, she did ballet. you were simple — girly, put-together, graceful, smiley. riki was complex — gruff, punkish, tatted, pierced. he worked at hot topic, you couldn’t even enter the store without a shudder. despite your polished image, you, along with your ballerina friends, were a cold hater of the punk rockers, the skater boys, the ‘scary’ and ‘intimidating’ guys who wore band shirts and had dyed, spiky hair.

as you left practise with a hot latte in your hands, your friend scoffed as she leered at the skaters across your ballet school. you looked up, noticing her annoyance, as you noticed what she was glaring at. you let out a chuckle and shook your head. “What airheads.. look at those chains and saggy pants and.. weird hair.” she huffs, shaking her head at their odd fashion. you almost followed her, but paused when you heard something hit on the gravel below. “Dropped something, princess?” Riki says, his large fingers holding the keychain of your mini ballet flat accessory.

you turned around and widened your eyes.. his silvery blonde hair, hand shoved into his pocket, bending down slightly to reach your height and tilting his head with a pout, as if he was mocking you. his deep voice matched his scary-looking clothes, band shirts, baggy jeans, a chrome hearts beanie, you’d be too scared wear. he was scary.. too scary. so scary, you just wanted to stare into his sharp eyes and learn more about him.

but you cleared your throat, eyes glaring up at him as you snatched the keychain from his hand, not saying a word as you walked away from the ‘scary’ boy. niki scoffed, annoyance filling his body at the snobbish girl. but the moment you tripped slightly on the sidewalk, he remembered how pink and flustered you got when you were staring at him, and suddenly he felt a bit more cocky. a bit more interested..

🐰 © weoris | tumblr.

신 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗗𝗘. inspo from the song and jake.. @enhablr @kflixnet @kwritersworld @sgz-net

❪ taglist open ❫

PARK JONGSEONG | MARRIAGE

his penthouse was one less person lonely after the arranged marriage, but it still felt excruciatingly empty. Jay’s bed was cold, the house was dark, and he barely wore the ring on his finger. but there were differences — his bed was always made, his suits were always ready, his lunches had little notes on them. and there would be the same stranger at the dinner table, waiting for him to come back home.

it happened again, the same routine every night. your smile lit up the dim room, as you placed down the last plate on the dinner table. “You’re back early.” you chirped, while Jonseong took off his coat and glasses, pinching the top of his nose. he didn’t even say anything, just loosened his tie and sat down. despite feeling ignored, you put on an awkward smile and started to dig in, occasionally glancing at him to see if he liked it.

he didn’t say a word, when he got up from the table, entered your bedroom, got out of the shower — silence. you rested in bed, going on your phone for a bit before falling asleep. but in minutes, Jay was completely out, exhausted from work. you didn’t even notice till you felt an arm hooked around your waist, and his gentle mumble, “Thank you..”. it was enough to have you turning red, a shy smile creeping up on your lips as you turned around and gently cuddled him back to sleep. ( and him completely forgetting any events of that night )

SIM JAEYUN | BEST FRIENDS BROTHER

jake tried. so damn hard. he ignored your presence when you came over. he never came downstairs when you and his sister were in the living room. even when you tried to talk to him, he left one-word answers, or sometimes just shrugged. and it sucked for you, because you wanted to actually interact with your .. kind—of crush. but your feelings had been too obvious to jake, and it was dangerous — because his had always been growing.

especially since as you all grew up, he became more distant, you became more active, and his little sister became more absent. her part—time often called her to take emergency leaves from hangouts. when he heard the door close, he thought you were finally gone, so he left his room after what felt like ages. but he was so wrong, because there you were, sitting on his couch, in his house, wearing his hoodie — the one he accidentally left on the couch arm earlier.

the sight of him caught your attention, and your eyes lit up. but you couldn’t act too excited. “hi..” you let out, just as his heart started to thump like crazy. jake knew this was wrong, thinking of you like this, wanting to hear your voice. “Hey.. is that my hoodie?” he said back. you looked down, raising your eyebrows as you heated up in embarrassment. “Oh.. I guess so.. i saw it on the table and thought it was your sisters-” he couldn’t take it. “It’s fine, keep it.” he hurriedly muttered out, leaving the kitchen empty handed. he had to leave before he did something stupid. but all he left was a pouting, confused you on the couch.

PARK SUNGHOON | BULLY

“can’t even look at me?” sunghoon whispered, hand against the wall behind, caging you. you gulped, as he chuckled at your vulnerability, holding up the pack of cigarettes you had gotten for him. “these are the wrong fucking ones, doll. I told you that.. can’t you ever do anything right?” hoon coos again, a sickeningly sweet tone laced in his mocking words.

you would held onto your bag straps shakily, your breath would quicken, your heart would race every time you saw him. and not because his eyes sparkled in delight, or if his teeth would reveal a charming little smile. but because there would be an evil glint in his pupils and those smiles were hidden sick grins. only causing fear to bubble in your stomach..

“stop.. please.” you whispered, cornered by a guy from another class. “Awh, rejecting me so fast? just one date, c’mon..” he smirked, leaning closer to you, trapping you against the wall. you closed your eyes out of fear — “Hey..” a voice, all too familiar, suddenly came out of the hallway. “Leave her alone..” sunghoon spoke, walking up to you both, towering over the guy’s figure. you didn’t know whether to feel shocked or utterly terrified, as sunghoon slung his arm around your shoulder, walking away from the other guy.

“Don’t let them hurt you. that’s my job.”

KIM SUNOO | SERVANT

an exhausted sigh left your lips, as you swept the never-ending dust on the castle walls. maybe cleaning the royal walls would’ve been a more relaxing chore if the other maids weren’t constantly watching you from the side or shit—talking about you. but the sudden silence from all the usual teasing and mocking confused you. did they finally decide to quit it?

you had never really noticed the prince, being that you never saw him around — the palace walls went on for days. but on the rare occasion you did see prince sunoo, he always seemed quiet and introverted, and all the other maids seemed to have always tiptoed carefully around him. unbeknownst to you, the prince had noticed you far more times than you had realised.

he would shut his arrogant lips when you were around, he would sometimes even leave messes near his sleeping quarters just for you to clean up, watching from afar as he sipped on a drink worth more than your whole savings. but when the two gossiping servants near you had suddenly stopped giggling and ran away, you were left puzzled again.. and you were answered when your eyes were met with the royal behind you. “Your highness..” you whispered, starstruck while bowing immediately to him. “Work in my quarters from now on..” that was his order, quiet, yet not as cold as you thought.

it was protective, but hushed. like he knew he shouldn’t be telling you that, showing how much he cared.

YANG JUNGWON | RIVAL

for months, jungwon had been your biggest rival in any sort of grade. anything became a competition, even if you both weren’t supposed to be competing against each other. “Hah! 95!” you exclaimed, waving your paper around before showing him your mark. Jungwon rolled her eyes, acting sulky and disappointed before smirking lightly, placing his exam sheet down, with the marks ‘97’, as he watched the colour drain out of your face. it wasn’t even like you wanted to be in competition, it sort of just happened.

and there were times when you didn’t feel like competing at all, like now. you both were trying to grab the last spots of the decathlon lineup, and it’d mean the world if you could actually be apart of your first academic decathlon.. but the team doesn’t care about your dreams — they only care about the GPA.. and the boy you constantly bickered with about the last spot, Yang Jungwon, took the spot right under your nose. and with that stupid smirk on his face again, he left the auditorium with a high head, and a relaxed stride.

he one-upped you again, he could mock you on a deeper level. but jungwon definitely didn’t expect you to be against a locker, crying because of it.. the grin on his face fell. you wanted to stop crying, but the embarrassment and heartbreak was overwhelming.. “what? you gonna tease me now? mock me again?” jungwon stood in front of you, looking at your teary eyes, as his breath began to tremble. he didn’t think you’d be this vulnerable about it, knees tucked, as you tried to look down and cover your sobs. something about you made his heart shake. you paused suddenly when you felt the touch of his thumb wiping your tears away. “Don’t cry. I was supposed to make fun of you..”

NISHIMURA RIKI | CRUSH

your friends all knew about your raging crush on him. although they couldn’t understand why, since he barely talked to you, and always seemed dry and hostile towards anyone, they revelled in teasing you about it. lunch times when they’d make little jokes, try to seat you to together in class, using flirty and playful glances with you and riki, even if he never even interacted with you, despite being in the same friend group.

it wasn’t like he hated you, he was a hard shell to crack. he never got close to the other girls in the group. in fact, his own friends noticed him acting a weirdly around you. he didn’t look comfortable, he looked like he was trying something new. suddenly, you were the first person he’d ask for stationary, the one he sat next to in the cafeteria table, he’d ask what you’d eat before buying lunch, he’d draw little doodles on your homework just so you’d get mad at him and bicker.

but it was hard for you to notice his little tries. they were too subtle. it often frustrated you, you kept trying to talk to him, but he seemed to uninterested (shy). and it didn’t take him long to notice, he was an observer. “You said you liked chocolate milk.” he muttered, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing to buy you your favourite drink. ‘lmfaoo don’t do the hw~ I can’t be in trouble alone’ he’d text, letting the conversation continue on till midnight. “it’s fine, just get on my back. you’re not that heavy..” he chuckled again, when you had gotten a little too tired on a late night.

your cold crush was warming up. just slowly, and subtly.

🐰 © weoris | tumblr.

신 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗗𝗘. first headcannon in a while .. @enhablr @kflixnet @kwritersworld @sgz-net

❪ taglist open ❫

he froze, heeseung physically turned red at your comment. he couldn't believe his ears.

he blinked, "what?"

you sat up straight again, trying to steady yourself. "i want to marry you." you repeated yourself, making you loud and clear now. "let's get married now."

your eyes were wide open now, your face stoic amidst the flushed cheeks. "look, i'm wearing white. i'm ready." you looked down at yourself as you fixed your hair, trying to make it look presentable.

"baby, you cannot be serious." he tried to laugh it off, oh but you'd never let this go. not now. not on the day of your marriage of course.

"dead serious." you nodded.

he chuckled, not believing what he was hearing. heeseung always knew he was going to marry you. he knew at the end of the day, it was always you who he'd come to.

"alright, i'll marry you. i was going to do it anyways." he sighed as he spoke, in hopes of getting you home.

"where's my ring?" you pouted, crossing your arms.

he blinked again. oh this girl could not be serious.

heeseung looked at you with the biggest smile on his face, "you want a ring?"

"how else are we getting married? c'mon, quick!" you rushed him, tugging at his sleeve.

he sighed, looking down at his hand and tugging the ring that rested on his pinky finger.

"this good enough?" he asked you.

"perfect." you said, that smile on your face rested on your face again.

he took your hand in his, almost about to put his ring on your finger. that was before it hit you.

you suddenly jerked your hand away from his making him confused. "what about your vows?" your voice was soft amidst the crowd of the bar.

heeseung sighed again, smiling at your silliness. "vows?"

"yeah, how else am i supposed to know we are going to last forever. what if you leave me because you didn't say your vows? do you hate me?"

"woah, baby. i won't leave you. i'll say my vows." his words were full of promise as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i will be there by your side. i won't ever leave you. i promise to be there when you're happy, sad, drunk and out of your mind." heeseung said this with the biggest smile on his face. getting married in a bar was the last thing he thought he'd be doing, but he wouldn't be anywhere else.

you giggled at his words, "my turn, i promise to be there whenever you lose in league, or when you get sick and i have to hold up your hair. i'll be your biggest supporter and fan, and um, i love you."

heeseung laughed softly, you swore you could see his eyes tearing up but he'd deny that forever.

without saying anything else, he took your hand and slipped his ring onto your finger. it was a little loose but it was perfect. you looked down at it and wiggled your fingers.

you laughed, squealing even at the fact that you got married to the boy you loved. you were now sober enough to realise what was happening. it was surreal and beautiful. now, you were married to a boy who's seen you through your worst and your best, on a random saturday night with a hangover headache awaiting you the next day.

you looked up at him now, "well... you may kiss the bride now."

heeseung's smile only deepened, without hesitation his arms were wrapped around your waist. "c'mere."

he leaned in slowly, his lips brushed gently against your plush lips. it was everything you dreamed about. your first kiss as newlyweds. the bar you were in didn’t matter, the wine stain on your white shirt didn’t matter nor did the bartender looking at you both from time to time. the world around you slowly faded away. it was just you and him.

heeseung finally kissed you. he kissed you as your husband who had promised to cherish you forever. you pulled him in by the tie and deepened the kiss. your heart raced and you were sure his did too. your lips melted against his, like it was made for him.

you were sure to cherish him as well. to be by his side tomorrow and the day after that too. you were sure to change his contact name to 'hubby' the moment you get home and cuddle him when he gets under the sheets.

you pulled away from the kiss, breathless. he looked at you with nothing but adoration. "let's go home, wifey."

⠀ join the taglist 💌 @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @voikiraz @miumura @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @aishigrey @firstclassjaylee @rikislove @hynjinnnnnnnn @flwrstqr @manariee

“What the hell,” you hiss, shaking her off. “Do you mind? I like having blood in my hand.”

She stares at the notice like it’s about to lunge off the board and strangle her. “Oh my god,” she whispers. “Oh my god.”

You glance between her and the paper. “What?”

Yizhuo swallows hard. “I'm not going to freak out.”

“That’s literally what people say right before freaking out.”

She ignores you, steps forward, and points at the paper without actually touching it. Like it’s a crime scene. “That’s my letter.”

You blink. “What?”

“The one in the notice!” she snaps. “I typed it out last week after the midterms, when we got drunk. Printed it and then panicked and threw it away. Now—” She waves at the paper like it’s personally offended her. “—this is happening.”

You actually read it this time.

Notice: Lovers and Cowards Did you (or someone you know) pour their heart out into a love letter, only to chicken out and toss it near the dorm printer? Bad news: I found it. Worse news: it’s going public. Unless the rightful owner steps up, this masterpiece of romance will be read dramatically during Movie Night this Friday. Don’t make me do this. (Actually, please do—I love the drama.) Claim it before then, or prepare to be exposed. No judgment… maybe.

You look back at her slowly. “…You wrote a love letter.”

“Yes.”

“And threw it away by the printer.”

“Yes.”

“And now some lunatic has it and is threatening to read it in front of the whole dorm.”

She throws her hands up. “Not just some lunatic. Look at the name! It's Zhong Chenle. He'll fucking humiliate me in front of everyone. If he reads it on the day of the movie night, the person I wrote it to will figure it out."

You lean back a little. “How?"

“It's Jun—" She stops herself, looking around before leaning in to whisper into your ear. "It's Junghoon. You know I talk to him a lot. He'll easily know that it was me and that is the last thing I want right now."

You nod slowly. "Okay… So just go claim it? That way he won't reveal anything."

Yizhuo backs up and sighs, palms fisting at her hip. "Babe. So you clearly don't know Zhong Chenle that well."

She takes the quizzical look on your face as the sign to continue. "I've known the guy since middle school, and for some reason he just likes pissing me off. Even if I owned up to it, he would go and tell Junghoon."

You open your mouth to retort, but she beats you to it. "Trust me. I know."

"What will you do then?"

Yizhuo stills, eyes narrowing in on you. Softly, she brings up her palms to grip your elbows. "My love. My darling friend. The one who's got my back at all times—"

You shake your head, trying to pry her fingers off. "No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"Well, it can't be great if it needs a build-up like that. So no."

"Please," she pleads, calling out your name. "All you'd have to do is go up to him and say it was yours. He won't care if it's you because he doesn't know you."

"And why would I embarrass myself in front of a total stranger?" You sigh, walking away from the notice board and over to the couches.

Mark Lee—you recognize him because he shares a class with you, one that you can't recall at the moment—sits on one of the couches with his girlfriend, and you'd rather not listen in to their conversation. So you plop down onto the farthest seat and watch as Yizhuo dramatically falls to her knees in front of you. The carpet hasn't been cleaned in, well, god knows how long, and you try to pull her up.

She swats your hand away.

"Please. Embarrassment is not a word in your dictionary, and honestly, it isn't one in his either. Which is why he would do such a thing." She rolls her eyes before muttering to herself. "God, that fucking idiot. Always up in everybody's business."

You watch her with equal parts disbelief and amusement as she flails around. The dust and questionable stains cling to her jeans, but she’s too focused on her theatrics to care. You reach down again, this time tugging a little harder at her elbow. “Get up before you catch something.”

Yizhuo finally gets up with a small grunt, dusting her knees off before putting the same palms on your shoulders. You flinch with disgust.

"Come on. You just have to go up to him, tell him that it was you and that he should never bring this up again and walk out!"

“Okay, okay. I don’t really know Chenle that well,” you admit, glancing toward the notice board like it’s the root of all your problems. “But from what you say, he sounds like exactly the kind of guy who would make this hell for you.”

She nods, relieved. “Right? He’s like the unofficial dorm detective—except instead of solving crimes, he just digs up everyone’s secrets and spreads them for fun.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “So, you want me to be your shield. Walk up, claim the letter like it’s mine, and then pray Chenle doesn’t turn it into some dorm-wide scandal.”

Yizhuo’s smile widens. “You got it. You’ll save me from eternal humiliation.”

You shake your head, already feeling the weight of this terrible favour. “Fine. But if Chenle makes a mockery of me, you owe me. Big time.”

She throws her arms around you with a squeal, and your eyes flicker over to where Mark and his girlfriend watch you two with thinly veiled concern. You shoot an awkward smile and a thumbs-up at them.

So you make the walk of (slight) shame over to Mark who sits, bent over a mass media law textbook. Ah, that's the class you share.

You realise, soon enough, that you might have to confront Zhong Chenle earlier than you expected. The pinned message in the dorm's group chat stares at you in all its glory.

Gentle reminder, D-2 to the movie night. Hope everybody is excited! (and please, bring your own snacks. We're uni students, not billionaires)

"Hey." You poke his shoulder, a bit awkwardly.

Mark startles, looking up at you before pulling his wired earphones out. "Hi. Can I help you?"

"You're friends with Chenle, aren't you?"

He nods, glancing at his phone that lights up before turning back to you. "Yeah. Is there a problem?"

"Oh, no." You shake your head. "I was just wondering, what room is he from?"

Mark's eyes narrow in on you. "Hold on… are you the one—"

"God, no." You clarify, waving your hands in front of him. "I forgot to take my USB out after using the printer. Someone told me they saw him taking it."

It's a lie, obviously, and you surprise yourself a little with how easily it slips out. The things you'd do for Yizhuo.

Mark stares at you for a few seconds like he’s weighing whether you’re telling the truth or just wasting his time. Then he shrugs, like whatever. “Alright. That makes sense. Chenle lives in 130 with Jisung. But he's in class right now, actually."

"Oh? I'm sorry, but it's kinda urgent. What class is he in?"

"Uh…" he trails off, scrolling on his phone to find the man's contact. "I'll ask him. The kid doesn't pay attention in any of his classes anyway."

You nod and awkwardly stand beside him while he waits for the reply. Pulling your phone out, you're met with a string of texts from Yizhuo asking if you got the job done. You type out a passive-aggressive 'not yet' followed by five rolling eyes emojis and mute her number temporarily.

Mark's feet tap on the ground rhythmically, probably along the tune of whatever he's listening to. After about a minute, he perks up.

"He's in Ethics in Journalism. C block. Says he doesn't have any USB, but he forgets stuff, so you should probably go and talk to him. He's almost done, so he'll be out by the time you reach."

You nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Ethics in Journalism sounds ironic for whatever you've heard about him. A blabber-mouth like him couldn't possibly be a good thing for journalism, could he?

You thank him, making Mark shrug before turning back to his textbook and putting his earphones back in.

The afternoon sun hangs high, casting short shadows across the cracked pavement as you make your way toward the main campus buildings. The familiar buzz of students rushing between classes fills the air—laughter, distant music, the occasional shout—but none of it reaches you today. Your mind is too busy rehearsing what’s about to happen.

Ahead, the modern brick facade of the journalism building rises into view, old and intimidating. You glance up at the small sign near the entrance: C Block, Communications and Media Studies.

The heavens seem to be slightly on your side today, for Zhong Chenle walks out just as you walk up to the entrance. You recognize him from the photos Yizhuo has showed you. Plus, you were told that if you saw anyone boring enough to be out and about wearing a Stephen Curry jersey, then that was your guy.

True to her word, Chenle wears a royal blue Golden State Warriors shirt, headphones slung around his neck and eyes on his phone as he skips down the steps, taking two at a time.

He glances up just as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, locking eyes with your waiting figure for a moment before pulling out one earbud. "Hey. Are you the girl that lost her USB?"

You blink, startled that he already knows. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.” You shuffle your feet, suddenly aware of how awkward this whole situation is.

Clearing your throat, you try to sound casual. “Listen, could we maybe, uh, go somewhere a bit more private? To talk?”

"About your lost USB?" Chenle laughs out, before smirking. "Dude, if you like me or something… I don't know, just say it here. I don't really care."

You scoff out of disbelief, crossing your arms. Somehow, he's already managed to irritate you. "Okay, stuck-up much? No. Listen, I didn't even know who you were until like, a day ago."

He nods slowly, like he finds your rambling amusing. "Sure."

"No, seriously. It's something important, so I'd appreciate if we went somewhere a little—" You look around at the influx of students that are leaving the building, "—less exposed."

He laughs again. It's an easy, contagious laugh that somehow makes you want to punch him and grin at the same time. “Fine, fine. Lead the way, mysterious USB owner.”

You take in a deep breath and start walking toward a quieter corner of the campus, away from the crowds milling between classes. Chenle trails behind, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the scene with that casual confidence that’s somehow both annoying and impressive.

The air feels cooler under the shade of the tall oaks, leaves rustling softly as you reach a bench tucked away near a side path. Chenle leans back against the bench, crossing his arms.

"You didn't even tell me your name? What's up, anyway?" He exhales loudly, throwing his head back and slouching in the seat.

You give him your name. He says it once, lazily almost before glancing at you. Somewhere on the way, he's put on black shades. You don't like how you can't see his eyes, but you continue anyway.

"So… about the notice that you put up in the dorm."

That makes him straighten up. Chenle almost squeals before fully turning his body to face you. He claps his hands once as he brings his leg up to sit on it, like this is some picnic that the two of you are having. "That was you? Oh my god, I can't believe that worked!"

"Yeah, so just—" you cut yourself off with a sigh, "please don't read it out on movie night?"

He smirks, tilting his head. “What were you thinking anyway? Love letters? Who even writes those anymore? Especially ones they immediately throw away? That’s some dramatic behaviour. You sure you weren’t drunk?”

You flush, eyes flicking away. “Okay, yeah. Drunk after exams. Tired and emotional. Can you just not make a big deal out of it?”

Chenle chuckles, a slow, teasing sound. “No promises, but—"

"Hey!" You retort. "You said you'd keep it hush if the person revealed themselves!"

"—Okay, okay. I will. I'll cut you some slack." He throws his hands up in defence.

You sigh, looking away. You don't even know this guy, but you already know that there's a but at the end of that sentence. "But what?"

"Only if you read it out to me right here."

Your mouth falls agape as you turn back to him. There's no way he's being serious about this.

"Come on." Chenle urges, the grin never leaving his face. "Be brave! It was fun to read on my own, but it would be even more hilarious coming from the writer herself."

"Dude, what the hell? This was not what you said on the notice."

"A man can change his mind. Come on, be quick." He shrugs as he pulls his bag forward, unzipping it to rummage through the loose papers dumped in it. "I have it in here somewhere."

"Do you not have people dedicating love letters to you? Is that why you want me to read it out, you sicko." You grumble, grabbing the letter from his hands.

It makes him laugh again, and you watch, a little dumbfounded at the way he throws his head back. You would hate to admit it, but there's something charming about the guy.

You shake your head, curse Yizhuo a thousand times before clearing your throat and holding the paper up. The edges crease where you grip the letter tightly. Chenle leans back, almost vibrating with excitement.

“To the one who makes my heart do somersaults,

Every time you walk into the room, it’s like fireworks explode inside me—bright, loud, and completely impossible to ignore. You’re the melody I hum in the shower, the warmth I crave on cold nights.”

You pause, blinking at the words like you can’t believe someone wrote this. Chenle snorts quietly behind his sunglasses.

You press on, cheeks heating despite yourself. Fuck Yizhuo, fuck that stupid little girl.

“I know I’m probably a mess right now—drunk on exams and bad decisions—but damn, I had to tell you. You’re the kind of beautiful disaster that makes my world spin faster and slower at the same time.”

Your voice cracks slightly on “beautiful disaster,” and you clear your throat.

“If loving you is a mistake, then I don’t want to be right. So here I am, a hopeless fool scribbling my heart out on paper, hoping maybe you’ll catch the fever too.”

There's about two more paragraphs left, but you fold the letter back up and look at Chenle with a face so full of pain that he almost pities you. You stand up, shoving the paper into one of your pockets and glare at the man who's barely managing to hold back his laughter.

"There. Done. Can you shut up about it now?"

He nods, lips still split into a shit-eating grin. "One last thing. Who was this even written to? And I swear I won't go around telling people."

You eye him suspiciously. What could possibly happen? As long as you make it out of this alive and as long as it isn't revealed that the actual writer was Yizhuo, you'll be fine.

"Junghoon." You state, pursing your lips. "You may not know him, he's in a different dorm."

"I think I've heard his name, yeah." Chenle nods, also getting up from the bench. "But damn, you were brave. I acknowledge and respect that, although I was hoping you'd be a no-show and I'd get to read it out."

You step away, throw up a sign heavily relying on your middle finger and turn around to walk back.

His giggles ring in your ear and you resist the urge to turn around and punch his stupid, infuriating, good-looking—no. No, just stupid and infuriating face.

"What a fucking sadist, really." You mutter to yourself, stomping across the footpath. "Well, at least it's over now."

The common room buzzes with the low hum of chattering students and the clatter of drinks and popcorn buckets being passed around. In the kitchen, you hear the RAs arguing about seating arrangements and the lack of beanbags that they've borrowed from the college club rooms.

The couches have been moved to the sides, and upon your insistence, the carpet has been replaced, so it isn't as much of a hazard to just sit on the ground anymore. Behind you, someone is setting up the projector and fiddling around with the size of the projection on the wall. Yizhuo has managed to catch hold of a bean bag big enough for the both of you to sit, and you have a thin but soft blanket, folded in your arms in case they decide to turn the air conditioning up like the theatres. There's nothing that could go wrong.

Or so you think.

Because half way through the opening credits, someone settles down on the ground beside your bean bag with a loud exhale, making you twitch and turn towards them to throw a stink-eye.

Chenle.

He shifts lazily, propping himself up on one elbow as his eyes settle on you.

Yizhuo stiffens beside you, fingers clutching the blanket a little too tightly. Her gaze flickers to Chenle with something close to disdain, and you catch the subtle but unmistakable chill radiating between them.

Chenle’s dark eyes flick over to Yizhuo for just a moment, a flash of mild annoyance crossing his face before he looks back at you.

"Where's loverboy?" he asks, low enough for only you and Yizhuo to hear it. She scoffs lightly and turns back to the movie. "Didn't invite him?"

You roll your eyes. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering." He shrugs with a smile, "I thought you'd be here cozying up to him instead of… Yizhuo."

"Shut up, Chenle." She grumbles from beside you.

"What is up with you two anyway?" You ask, straightening a little with curiosity.

"I was just better than her at everything."

"He's a stuck-up asshole." They both answer at the same time. You bite your lip to not let the smile show.

"Our mothers are friends." Chenle hums. "So we kind of grew up together, unfortunately."

You blink, caught off guard by the casual confession. “Oh wow, that explains a lot.” You glance between them, the familiar sibling-like banter oddly endearing, before turning to Yizhuo.

"So you don't actually hate him, do you?"

Yizhuo shoots him a glare, but there's traces of amusement in her eyes. "Yes, I do."

"She doesn't." Chenle scoffs, pointing his chin towards the movie. "Turn back around."

“So,” you say, nudging Chenle lightly, “are you here just to torment us, or do you actually like the movie?”

Chenle shrugs again, eyes twinkling. “A bit of both, honestly. Plus, I figured sitting here would be more interesting than wherever the hell I was before.”

Yizhuo groans beside you. You look behind, eyes catching on the group of six that are slowly settling down towards the back of the room. "Really? They do look like they'd be fun."

"Eh, at times." He admits, "But honestly, I'm also here to ask about your little crush."

"No." You reply sharply, and he only lets out a breathy laugh before settling into the side of your bean bag. It surprises you how easily he gets comfortable, but you don't mind—weirdly enough—and Yizhuo doesn't seem to either, so you let him be.

"You're interesting, actually." Chenle mumbles, eyes still on the wall. "How have we never met before?"

You blink at him, caught off guard by the honesty that’s so casually dropped between the flickering shadows of the movie. “I have no idea,” you say, voice low enough not to disturb the others, "but it's probably for a good reason anyway."

Chenle throws an irritated glance at you, scrunching his nose. "Your loss. I'm a really fun person to be around."

When you reply with a snort, he stretches his arms above his head, eyes still half on the screen but now relaxed, like the casual companion he somehow is tonight. “So, tell me,” he says, voice dropping to a teasing drawl, “how much of that letter was real, and how much was drunk poetry."

"Man, let it go." You groan, pushing back into your seat. "Everything was drunk poetry. I'm not usually like that."

Yizhuo pinches your thigh under the blanket with a laugh, and you have to force yourself to hold back and not expose her then and there.

"Okay, you know what. I'm nosy. Tell me about this guy."

"What are you going to do?" You roll your eyes, "Play wingman?"

"Hey," Chenle protests, "I could if I wanted to."

But still, you stiffen. Truth is, you barely know Junghoon beyond a few passing hellos in the dorm hallway and a handful of vague group chats. Your mouth opens to answer, but the words stick in your throat.

Before you can stumble over some awkward excuse, Yizhuo leans a little closer, her tone smooth but firm. “Junghoon’s alright. Quiet, keeps to himself mostly. Not much for the spotlight. Probably why you don’t really know him,” she says, eyes flicking to Chenle with a hint of challenge.

Chenle raises an eyebrow, smirking at the subtle jab but not pushing back. “Ooh, protective, huh? Nice.”

You shoot Yizhuo a grateful glance, silently thanking her for the rescue as Chenle nudges the conversation forward with a lazy grin. “Well, quiet types can be interesting. Mysterious. But if you don’t know him well, how do you even… like him?”

"I do know him," you protest weakly, "he's a nice guy. I wouldn't like him otherwise."

"So that's your type? Nice, quiet guys?" He hums. "Didn't expect that, lowkey."

"Guess so, yeah." You nod slowly. You hope you're a good liar, because the way Chenle seems to look right at you makes you feel like you aren't. "Focus on the movie, would you?"

Chenle chuckles, shaking his head like he’s amused by some private joke. “You’re good at dodging, I’ll give you that."

You bite your lip, trying to keep your expression neutral. He notices, maybe, because he shakes his head, his black mop of hair swishing around.

You palms roll up into fists under the blanket to resist from reaching out and running a hand through it.

Zhong Chenle. Who is this guy?

The laundry room smells strongly of detergent pods, a quiet refuge from the usual dorm chaos. You lean against the wall near the row of dryers, phone in hand, eyes half-watching the soft white numbers counting down.

Your laundry’s nearly done, and you’re just killing time, thankful for the rare moment to yourself, when the door swings open with a muffled creek and in stroll two people, one with a familiar voice.

"I swear to god, you need to ask one of us to make something for you or at least to teach you how to use kitchen appliances without making it a safety hazard for every one involved." Chenle lets out exasperatedly, dumping his laundry bag into one of the baskets.

The other boy—Jisung, whom you've heard of before from Yizhuo—whines lowly. It's a sound you don't expect to hear from a man of his height, his brows furrowed and feet stomping lightly on the tiles, so you almost let out a small laugh.

It catches Chenle's attention, and he whips around to meet your eyes. He waves with one hand, shooting a grin, the other hand busy stuffing his closed into the washing machine.

Jisung eyes you a little curiously, nodding once in acknowledgement before he turns back to his friend. "Get off my back, dude. It's not my fault the toaster seems to malfunction every single time I touch it."

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Chenle scoffs. "Jisung someone had to call you out using the notice board. You realize how embarrassing that is for you?"

"You don't have to tell me." The taller boy grumbles. "It's okay. I'll go apologize later. At least I'm not ignorant like Mark was."

Chenle shakes his head, slamming the washing machine door shut. "Just ask, next time."

He glances over at you again, eyes sharp but friendly. "Why are you alone here? Where's the little devil?"

You sigh, slipping your phone back into your pocket. "She's bunked too many classes and is facing the consequences now. Studying in our room. Is this your roommate?" You ask, tilting your head at Jisung.

"The one and only," Chenle grumbles affectionately. "One hell of an idiot is a more apt description."

"Hi." Jisung waves awkwardly. "I've heard of you before."

You pointedly stare at Chenle, who simply shrugs.

"What can I say? He was the one that sat and watched me type the notice up. He's so non-committal, I tell you. Wants to know what happened but doesn't want to be directly involved."

"I don't want to be an ass like you." Jisung wraps an arm around his roommate's shoulder. "Being nosy isn't as big of a crime."

You exhale loudly just as the dryer beeps. "Hold on to that thought." You say as you turn back around to load the clothes into your bag.

"I don't judge, unlike him." Jisung points out, making you giggle.

"He wasn't too judgemental, I guess." You admit. "Although he did—wait, no. He was. He made me read out the letter to him."

Chenle's eyes glint as he leans slightly forward. "Well… I have to say, you have a really nice voice. Made the whole thing sound way better than I expected."

You pause for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. A faint blush rises to your cheeks as you glance up at him.

"Is that your way of saying I should read more often?" you tease, folding your laundry with a sly smile.

Chenle shrugs, grinning. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like hearing you talk."

Jisung rolls his eyes but can’t hide the amused smile tugging at his lips. "Easy, there. She likes someone. Don't try to make moves on her."

It makes you laugh out loud despite yourself, and the smart retort that he was about to say dies on Chenle's tongue as he watches your palm come up to cover your mouth, your eyes crinkling before you turn away.

Why is he making moves on you? And worst of all, why do you not seem bothered by it?

"I'm not." He responds defensively, clearing his throat and shooting Jisung a look that clearly says shut the fuck up.

But he says nothing more, his attention fixed on you again. There’s a pause, the hum of the machines filling the silence.

“So,” you say absently, checking the number of clothes in your bag to make sure you left nothing, “what’s really got you so worked up about the kitchen?”

Chenle smiles. “Right, the toast is Jisung’s problem. I'm pretty good in the kitchen."

You look up at that, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You can cook?"

"Why is that so surprising?" He asks, sounding slightly offended.

"I don't know…" You mumble, pulling the strings to close the bag. "You look—"

"Good? Yeah," he waves you off with a sly grin, "tell me something I don't know."

"—like you survive off Red Bulls and instant noodles." You finish with a light-hearted scowl. "Where do you get all that confidence from, really?"

"I am a good cook." Chenle replies, sounding like he's challenging. "If you don't believe me, you can see for yourself. Or rather, taste for yourself."

"He does make really good scallion oil noodles." Jisung admits airily, slightly zoned out of your conversation.

Chenle raises an eyebrow at you. "So?"

“Okay, chef,” you say, tugging the laundry bag over your shoulder. “You owe me a taste test. When and where?”

Chenle taps his chin thoughtfully. “How about this weekend? I’ll cook, you judge.”

You smile, feeling a spark of something unexpected but welcome. “It’s a date.”

He nods, stepping back with satisfaction and slight determination. Another thing you've heard about him from Yizhuo is that he's competitive. Almost to a fault. But maybe… maybe you like that.

As you gather your things to leave, Chenle calls out your name, like he's just remembered something. "You sure your quiet boy won't mind you eating with another guy?" He teases cheekily.

You groan. "I'm allowed to have friends, thank you."

When you leave, Jisung turns to his roommate with a grin. "Why the hell are you hitting on her, dude?"

"I'm really not, Jisung." He sighs, pushing the taller boy away. "Maybe you'd know if you ever managed to speak to a girl who was interested in you."

"Rude." He mutters, a little dejectedly. "She seems nice. She called it a date. Why would she do that?"

Chenle hums, looking up to let out a small noise of confusion before he brushes it off, already opening his notes app to make a checklist of ingredients.

The setting sun's rays slide in through the library’s tall windows, casting long stripes of pale gold and pink light across your cluttered table. You’re buried under textbooks and scattered notes. The faint smell of recycled paper from your notebook and the sickly sweet coffee from the canteen has begun to make you gag. Your eyes flick over the same sentence for the third time, but it refuses to stick.

You groan. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Yizhuo stretches beside you, cracking her neck like it’s been ages since she last moved. “Break. Now.”

You shove your stuff into your bag, following her out. The quad is alive with the buzz of students—laughter, conversations, a frisbee sailing somewhere in the distance. Yizhuo wanders over toward the basketball courts, where a small crowd has formed.

When the two of you finally make it past, she scoffs. "Of course, it's him. That little attention-seeker. Bet he's just showing off."

It takes you the first four words to figure out who she's talking about.

You spot Chenle easily—darting between players like he owns the court, the bounce of the ball synced perfectly with his steps. His bright blue jersey stands out, like a beacon daring anyone to challenge him. You watch him spin, dribble, and then launch the ball into the net with that effortless flick of the wrist that gets the crowd cheering.

Yizhuo snorts beside you, crossing her arms. “Typical. Full of himself.”

You can’t help but smile, even though you try to play it cool. “He’s good.”

“Yeah, but he’s also an annoying show-off.”

You shrug, shifting on your feet. “Maybe. But he makes it look good. I kind of get why people watch.”

Yizhuo raises an eyebrow. “Don’t get too soft on him now. You’re supposed to be focused.”

You huff out a breath, stealing a glance at Chenle again. His laugh is loud and easy, the kind that makes the whole court seem a little brighter. There's a lot about him that you didn't expect, and somehow, he just keeps catching you by surprise.

You turn your gaze back to the game, but something about the way the sunlight hits Chenle’s face makes you pause. His hair is tousled just enough to look effortless, and when he smiles—really smiles—it’s like the whole crowd fades out for a second.

You catch yourself watching the way his muscles tense as he dribbles, the way his eyes sharpen when he focuses on the basket. It’s not just the game. It’s him.

You clear your throat, suddenly aware that you’ve been staring a little too long. Yizhuo nudges you with a reluctant sigh. "Please don't tell me you think the rat is handsome."

Her words are so random that you laugh out loud, maybe a little louder than you intended. The noise catches Chenle’s attention. He looks around, eyebrows raised as if trying to figure out where it came from. Then his eyes settle on you.

A slow grin spreads across his face as he waves, calling out, “Hey! Watching the game or just here to make fun?”

You and Yizhuo exchange a quick glance before you wave back awkwardly. Chenle shrugs and turns back to the game.

But you notice something subtle. His next moves are a little sharper, a little more precise—not like he suddenly decided to play seriously, but like he’s enjoying the extra attention. There’s a flicker of something playful in his eyes whenever they flick back to where you sit.

Yizhuo watches him too and mutters, “Okay, what the fuck is he doing?”

You turn to face her, raising an eyebrow.

"Like he's clearly trying to impress you, or whatever. But why? He thinks you like someone else, doesn't he?" Yizhuo asks , eyes focused somewhere past the courts as she thinks.

"Unless…" She snaps her fingers before turning to you and gripping you by the shoulders. "Did you tell him the truth?"

"No," you argue, "why would I do that?"

Yizhuo sits back again. "Sorry, you wouldn't. That was a moment of weakness."

Shaking your head, you lean back with her and continue watching. After a few seconds of silence, she pipes up again.

"Then why in the world has he developed home-wrecking tendencies? Trying to flirt with a girl who's heart is technically taken."

You shrug, cheeks warming.

Yizhuo rolls her eyes and stands up, throwing her hands up. “Alright, I’m done. This is weird. Let’s bounce before he starts trying to throw in slam dunks or something.”

"He's going to cook for me this weekend, by the way." You inform her as the two of you leave the court, not before you throw a small wave at him.

Yizhuo stops in her tracks, jaw hanging slack in astonishment. "He's going to what?"

You shrug. "We were just talking about cooking and he said he was good and I didn't believe that. Think he took it as a sort of challenge."

"Oh my god. What the fuck. I'm going to tell him to back off."

"Hey!" You protest weakly, "let me make friends too."

Yizhuo shakes her head before smiling and looping her arm through yours. "Hmm honey, I don't think he wants to be your friend. But alright, he's not the worst person out there."

On Saturday morning, your phone buzzes with a series of texts.

Almost instantly, he replies.

Chenle (130)

hey 121

isn't the little devil out all afternoon today?

my mum said she's visiting home

You

yeah! i think her cousin is home.

You pause, considering it. The dorm kitchen is usually a hassle on the weekends, and your own room is much more calming. Your phone pings with another text before you can respond.

Chenle (130)

can i cook in your room then?

i mean i've already got the scallion oil ready in a jar lol

so really i only need to make the noodles but

Chenle (130)

i'd offer my room but

jisung cannot get his ass out of bed and he's clumsy and awkward

do you fw that energy?

You

poor him…

he's so sweet why are you mean to him

and yeah my room's fine. will clean up a little though, so let me know when you're coming around

You react with a thumbs-up and throw your phone onto your bed before staring at the mess that your room has become after Yizhuo spent the entire morning deciding on outfits.

Chenle (130)

in like half an hour or so?

You start picking things up slowly, trying not to overthink why your heart beats a bit faster at the thought of him walking through that door. It’s silly. You tell yourself it’s just noodles, just cooking. But there’s a strange warmth in your chest that you don’t bother naming.

Halfway through, you catch yourself smiling quietly at the floor, like you’re keeping a secret you don’t want anyone to find out about. It’s awkward and a little thrilling all at once.

Your phone buzzes, dragging you out of your thoughts.

Almost there. Hope you’re ready for the best noodles of your life.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks warming just a little. Then, the soft knock on your door breaks the silence.

“Coming!” you call out, before shuffling over to the door.

When you open it, you're met with Chenle's dazzling face (as he says it himself) and a hand held out with a glass jar of scallion oil.

You take it with a small smile, your fingers brushing his just long enough to notice but not enough to care too much. Chenle steps inside, surveying your room with that familiar cocky grin.

“Nice setup,” he says, nodding toward your cluttered desk. “Looks like someone’s been pretending to study.”

You shoot him a side-eye. “Pretending? I’m multitasking.”

He laughs and pulls out the portable stove and pot from his bag like a pro. Watching him unpack, you settle on the floor nearby, arms crossed, trying not to look too interested.

“Hey, don’t think I didn’t see you stealing glances,” Chenle says without looking up.

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Please. I’m here for the noodles, not the show.”

He flicks a glance your way, amused. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Chenle sets the pot on the stove, the faint hiss of boiling water filling the quiet room. He moves with easy confidence, but you notice the brief flicker in his eyes when they meet yours—something softer, quieter, that he quickly hides behind a casual grin.

“So,” you say, folding your arms and leaning back against the bed, “how long have you been cooking like this?”

“Long enough,” he replies, stirring the noodles gently. “Used to watch my mum. She’s got this way of making simple stuff taste amazing.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Mums are always like that, aren't they?"

“Yeah, exactly.” He shrugs. “It’s all in the timing. Too long and they get soggy. Too quick and they’re hard.

You grin, clearly entertained. “And how much time did it take you to learn that, Mr. Zhong?"

He waves the chopsticks at you. "Almost none. I'm a pro."

The soft clatter of the chopsticks, the gentle bubbling of the water, the quiet comfort of the room—it all feels strangely calming.

“So,” you say after a moment, “do you always cook for people? Or is this just a special occasion?”

He pauses, glancing at you briefly before turning back to the noodles. “I don’t know. I guess... I like it. The cooking part, and maybe the hanging out part too.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Just maybe?”

Chenle laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe more than just maybe.”

You grin, leaning back on your hands. “I’m starting to think you might actually enjoy my company.”

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” he teases. “I enjoy a lot of things.”

But the smile he gives you feels softer, like it’s meant just for you. You don’t press it, just watch as he slides the noodles into a bowl, topping them with a generous drizzle of the scallion oil.

Chenle sets the bowl down in front of you, and you reach for your chopsticks, smacking your lips in anticipation. You wait for him to settle down in front of you with his own bowl.

“So, what’s the verdict?” he asks, eyes bright.

You take a bite, the warm noodles slipping easily between your chopsticks, the scallion oil fragrant and rich. “Not bad,” you say, “for someone who claims to be a pro.”

Chenle grins, watching you carefully. “Told you."

As the conversation flows—bits of teasing, shared stories about family dinners and awkward kitchen mishaps—Chenle’s gaze drifts to you, not just hearing your words but noticing the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, how easy it is to be here, like this, just talking and eating.

He thinks about how simple it feels, this rhythm between you two. No pressure, no pretence. But beneath that ease, a quiet ache presses at him.

You like someone else. He knows he’s not the one you want. And that knowledge stings, sharper than he lets on. Yet, despite that, he finds himself here. Choosing to be near you, drawn by something he doesn’t quite have the words for yet.

Chenle wipes his face lethargically with a towel, sweat dripping down onto the concrete ground as him and Jisung leave the courts, duffels hanging on their shoulders.

"Hey." Jisung nudges his elbow, nodding towards a bench near the quad. "Remember you were asking who Junghoon was? That's him."

Chenle follows his gaze and freezes. “Wait… what the hell is Yizhuo doing sitting practically on top of him?”

Jisung shrugs. "Beats me. I've seen them hanging out a lot, but I assumed that was how 121 and him met."

"Yeah, bullshit. She's sitting way too close for him to just be a friend." Chenle scowls.

"Hey, be glad. If they have something going on, that just means your chances with 121 increased."

Chenle laughs, but it’s tight, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Shut up."

He watches as Junghoon leans in closer, Yizhuo laughing way too loud, her hand brushing against his arm in a way that makes Chenle’s stomach twist in pain for you. Do you know about this? Why would Yizhuo do this to you? He thought you guys were inseparable.

It’s dumb. He knows it’s dumb to care this much. But the heat rising in his chest says otherwise.

Jisung claps him on the shoulder. “Come on, man, time to hit the showers before you start inventing conspiracy theories.”

Chenle grumbles but follows, his mind buzzing with half-formed thoughts.

Shower steam and hot water usually help clear his head, but not tonight. When he steps out, he’s still chewing on the scene, replaying it like a bad song stuck in his brain.

Pulling on a hoodie, Chenle grabs his phone and calls you before putting it on speaker.

You pick up on the fourth ring. He hears a little shuffling before your voice comes through in a whisper. "Hey? What's up. Sorry, I'm in the library."

"Which one?" Chenle asks, dropping his phone onto the bed and already pulling on the first pair of socks he can find.

"Uhm, the one near the engineering department." You inform, albeit a little confused. "Why? Are you going to study as well?"

"Uh—" Chenle mutters from the corner of his room as he slips into his shoes, "yeah, kind of. Stay there, I'm coming soon."

You say goodbye quietly. Chenle pulls his hood over his head and begins the short walk over to the engineering department. The street lamps are beginning to switch on, and the cool air hits his face, sharp and clear, but it doesn’t clear the clutter in his mind.

He just cannot wrap his head around it all. Chenle's known Yizhuo like you would an annoying sibling, and if there's anything, she would never do that to you. But he's seen it with his own two eyes. Why would Yizhuo go for the guy you liked?

The library door swings open with a quiet creak as he slips inside. The familiar smell of old books and polished wood settles over him, and he spots you almost immediately—head bent low over a pile of notes, your hair falling in soft waves that catch the light just right.

He stops short, blinking. There’s something about the way you look right now—soft, tired, and completely unguarded—that catches him off guard. His chest tightens in a way he hasn’t expected, a strange ache that makes him want to reach out and brush that loose hair from your face.

Before he can overthink it, he clears his throat, making you look up. Your eyes meet his, and there’s a flicker of surprise before you break into a small, tired smile.

“Hey,” you mumble when he nears you. "What are you planning to work on?"

Just as he's about to answer, Yizhuo emerges from the shelf behind you two, balancing the three thickest books he's seen in his life in her hands before dropping it onto the table, beside you. She huffs out, blowing the baby hairs away from her face, and Chenle controls the urge to lash out at her then and there when he sees the way you smile at her antics, eyes softening in affection.

“Hey,” he replies, voice rougher than he means it to be. "Don't know. I'll see."

Chenle slides the chair out noisily and lowers himself beside you, his gaze flicking briefly to Yizhuo, who’s still bustling about, her energy loud and bright in contrast to the quiet library. She shoots him a grin and waves before retreating back toward the stacks, leaving him alone with you.

He watches you for a moment, then without really thinking, he slides his chair a little away and pulls yours toward him without much warning. You startle with a gasp, looking at him incredulously. "What the—"

"Can we talk?" His voice is low, barely above a whisper.

You blink up at him, surprise flickering in your eyes, but you nod, pushing your notes aside and lean in close enough that he can smell the faint hint of your shampoo and feel the warmth radiating from you.

Chenle clears his throat, suddenly not knowing how to break the news to you. He glances around, making sure that Yizhuo isn't in the vicinity before talking.

"Don't freak out, but I saw Yizhuo with… Junghoon a little while ago." He studies your face carefully, and is slightly perplexed when you give away nothing. "They were being kinda touchy, I don't know. Not the way friends act."

"Yeah? Okay.” Your tone is casual, like it’s nothing important.

Chenle blinks, a bit thrown off by your reaction. “You’re not... bothered?”

You shake your head slowly. “No. Him and Yizhuo know each other and are friends. I don't really mind.”

He lets out a frustrated noise. "Listen, I know it's not my place and you probably believe her more than me, but I swear that the way they were acting was not appropriate. Aren't you bothered that your friend may be hitting on your crush?"

There’s a beat of silence between you two. Then something clicks in your mind, and your eyes widen just a little as you realise you’re supposed to care.

Chenle watches this shift with quiet surprise and much more confusion than he'd walked in with.

"It's okay," you wave him off, "it's nothing. Don't worry. She would never do that."

He watches with thinly veiled disbelief as you turn back to your textbook. Maybe you're just… much more open-minded than he thought you were. Maybe he's just reading too much into it—letting his feelings get the better of him because he's started to care more than he should

The next day, you find Chenle waiting for you outside your building when you walk out of class. He doesn't say anything, and only drags you—fingers wrapped gently around your wrist—to the same bench you sat at when you first met.

He sits you down, pays absolutely no regard to the confusion on your features and sits down next to you before removing the sunglasses he's wearing.

"I’ve been thinking,” he states confidently, “like… the entire night, actually.”

You glance up, brow raised, but he doesn’t waste time.

“The only thing that makes sense,” Chenle continues, “is that you lied. You came in place of Yizhuo.”

Your eyes flicker in surprise before he goes on. “Remember when I asked you about Junghoon? You didn’t have anything to say. If you liked someone, you’d probably mention him a bit more, right? But I’ve literally never heard you talk about him.”

"And in the short while that I've known you, it's become very obvious, if I think about it, that you are not the type to write love letters and cringey poems to someone. Like, that's Yizhuo's territory. Why didn't I think of her before?"

You open your mouth to protest, but he holds up his palm and continues anyway.

"And she was the one who spoke about him during the movie night. You just sat and nodded along!" He exhales with exasperation. "On top of that, you didn't even care when I told you about that entire ordeal yesterday. And I know that Yizhuo is one stupid girl, but she would never do that to a friend, no matter how much of a fucking devil she is."

Chenle's gaze sharpens in on you. "And you let me in your room, let me cook for you, and did not push me away when I lowkey flirted with you, so there's no way you like Junghoon. And you're the only one who would do the little devil's dirty work for her." He pauses, glancing away with annoyance, "What a coward, she is."

"Chenle—" you try to interrupt, in vain. "You've got it all—"

"So here's my final theory." He interrupts, placing his palm on your lips to stop you. You swallow, eyes widening in surprise. "Yizhuo likes Junghoon, wrote the letter when she was drunk and was stupid enough to get caught. She freaked out, asked you to go in her place, and you being the sweetheart that you are, agreed. And thus, you've been lying to me."

He watches you for a long moment, until you feel vulnerable enough to give up and nod under his gaze. With a triumphant fist pumping into the air, Chenle lets his palm drop from your face.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, looking away.

He turns to you immediately, heart sinking. "Hey, no. I mean, that was a dirty move, but I'm not upset. Don't worry. Just slightly confused and overall shocked that I didn't figure out sooner."

You nod, cheeks warming. "Yeah, I do not like the guy… Don't even know him that well."

Chenle bobs his head up and down, unable to stop the grin that stretches his lips. Your eyes narrow.

"Why do you care so much anyway?"

His smile drops a little before he brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, um." He looks away for a beat, then meets your gaze again, a little softer this time. "Isn't it kinda obvious that I'm like…into you?"

His honesty catches you off guard, and you look away, letting the wind brush your hair onto your face to hide the colour rising up your cheeks. "I don't know… I guess so."

"Okay, um. Well, I like you. And I was a little bummed because I thought you liked that guy or whatever, but clearly you don't. So can we…" Chenle trails off as he gets up from the bench to look at you.

"Start over?" You mumble.

"Yes, exactly." He grins, reaching a hand out.

You grab it and stand up along with him, and he lets it fall between the two of you. "This time, Yizhuo stays the fuck away from us."

You laugh softly at that, the tension breaking like a snapped rubber band.

“Deal,” you say, your smile returning, bright and a little mischievous. "But only if you promise not to blow up on her."

Chenle shrugs, clearly amused. “No promises. Do you really not agree with my nickname for her? It's perfect.”

"She's an angel to me," you quip cheerily, swinging his hand slightly. "Okay, okay, wait. Do we do it like the movies?"

Chenle clears his throat and lets your hand go. He brushes a hand through his hair and falls one step back before shoving his hand in your face.

"I'm Zhong Chenle. I'm a sport journalism major, I live in room number 130 and I'm like, kinda sorta into you."

You nod solemnly, biting back a laugh before shaking his hand and telling him your name. "Good to know. I agree with you."

Chenle quirks an eyebrow. “Well, that was surprisingly formal for two people who basically just admitted to crushing on each other.”

You grin, bumping his shoulder lightly. “Hey, gotta keep it professional. Can’t just spill feelings like that."

He laughs, then steps closer, lowering his voice a notch. “So does this mean I can actually take you out on a date that we don't spend pretending we're into other people?"

You smirk, folding your arms. “Depends. What are your negotiation skills like, Mr. Zhong?"

He pretends to think hard, tapping his chin exaggeratedly. “I’m pretty good, if I say so myself. Especially when the prize is dinner with you.”

You roll your eyes but your smile widens. “Okay, I’ll hold you to that.”

Chenle’s grin deepens. “You won’t regret it.”

The only thing you knew for sure was that your phone wasn’t in your bag.

You patted down every pocket, dug through your things with increasing panic, even circled back to the hallway. Still nothing. Practice room 3, the one you always borrowed after hours, had already gone dark by the time you returned, your heart sinking.

But when you walked in, the lights were on.

And K was there.

He held your phone in one hand, brows drawn slightly as he glanced up. “I figured you’d come back.”

You stopped in the doorway, confused. “You… found it?”

“I heard it buzzing after you left.” He lifted it toward you. “You left your lock screen open. I saw your name.”

“Oh,” you said, your fingers curling against your palm as you walked forward slowly. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize I’d—”

“You dance here every night,” he said, his voice quiet, cutting through your words in the softest way possible. “You always stay after everyone’s gone.”

You froze, fingers brushing the back of your phone before you took it. “You… noticed?”

“I always notice.”

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like it didn’t hold weight. But it did. You felt it in your ribs, like something shifting into place.

K stood there for a moment, looking at you. Then, voice a little gentler: “You practice more than anyone I’ve ever seen. Even when there’s no one to see it.”

You glanced down. “I just… I don’t want to fall behind.”

“You’re not,” he said. “But I get it. That drive. That fear.”

You looked up, and his eyes held yours like he’d been waiting for you to finally see him clearly.

“Do you want help?”

You blinked. “Help?”

“I’ve seen your choreography.” He said it simply. “It’s good. But you look like you’re dancing alone. You’re not supposed to.”

You wet your lips, hesitant. “You’d really… teach me?”

He tilted his head. “If you’ll let me.”

That night, you didn’t leave.

K dimmed the lights, just enough to take the edge off the fluorescent glow. The mirror caught his reflection in soft shards as he pulled his hoodie off and stepped toward you in a tank top and sweats, his hair slightly tousled.

“You lead,” he said, “and I’ll follow. Then we’ll switch.”

It was simple, at first—mirroring steps, matching rhythm. He moved cleanly, with purpose. You’d watched him dance before, sure, but it wasn’t the same as dancing with him.

Every time he stepped toward you, it felt like your breath shortened. Every brush of his hand near yours, every shared glance in the mirror—it all lit something in your chest that you weren’t ready to name.

He was close, but never too close. Sharp, but never harsh. When he corrected your posture, he did it with a featherlight touch on your lower back. When you stumbled, he steadied you with just a glance.

“You have good instinct,” he said, panting slightly between reps. “But you don’t trust your body yet.”

You looked down. “I’m trying to.”

“You don’t have to try alone.”

You turned to look at him, and his voice softened. “I meant that.”

The room felt heavier than before, weighted with the warmth between you.

You looked up at him, a question forming on your tongue, but then he reached forward and offered his hand.

“One more time?”

You nodded, letting your palm rest in his. It was warmer than expected—solid, steady, grounding. He spun you gently into place, guiding you through the start of the routine, but slowed his steps enough that it no longer felt like performance. It felt like conversation. Like something private.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his in the mirror. He was already watching.

Something buzzed low in your chest, something you couldn’t push down anymore.

“I keep wondering,” you said, breathless, “why you’re really doing this.”

He stopped moving.

“What do you mean?”

You swallowed. “You’re the last person I expected to care about someone like me staying late to practice.”

K turned, fully, facing you. “Then you haven’t been looking closely enough.”

Silence stretched.

He stepped in, just enough for you to feel it — the tension, the pull.

“I’ve seen you more times than you think,” he murmured. “But I never said anything, because I didn’t want to mess it up. You looked so determined. So lost in your own world.”

“I thought I was invisible.”

“Not to me.”

Your breath caught.

His fingers brushed yours again — lightly, hesitantly — and this time you didn’t move away.

“You came back for my phone,” you said, voice low.

“I came back for you.”

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet and honest and real.

You barely had time to react before he leaned in — slow, deliberate — like giving you time to back away.

You didn’t.

His lips touched yours, featherlight at first, then firmer when you leaned into it. His hand found your jaw gently, thumb grazing your cheek as he deepened the kiss. It was soft but purposeful — like he was pouring everything he hadn’t said into the space between you.

It felt like time stopped.

Like the room quieted, holding its breath.

His forehead rested against yours when he pulled away, your eyes still closed.

“That was...” you whispered.

“Me saying thank you,” he murmured. “And I like you. In case I wasn’t obvious enough.”

You laughed, breathless, your hand still curled in the fabric of his shirt.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Then here’s me saying it back.”

And you kissed him again.

Slower this time.

Like it was yours now, too.

That night, you didn’t dance to be seen. You danced with someone who already had.

And for once… you let yourself be held in it.